Monday, July 20, 2015

Gore Vidal And The Stupidity Of The PP

Sadly, given that he's dead, we will never know what Gore Vidal might have made of the bloodletting in the Balearic Partido Popular, an internecine spat of handbags at five yards involving the "unpopulares" (the official Bauzá wing) and the wannabe "populares" (the provisional wing, otherwise dubbed by the Spanish press as the "critics"). It would of course have been unlikely that Vidal would have ever paid any attention to the kindergarten politicking of an obscure island in the middle of the Mediterranean, one which, politically, is of almost complete inconsequence, but it is the propensity for PP politicians, of whom no one had previously ever heard and of whom everyone will quickly forget, to stamp their feet and demand the grown-ups take some notice of them that might have appealed to the veteran contrarian. He once said of the Republican Party in the US that the only difference with the Democrats was that it was "a bit stupider". Stupidity currently flourishes in the Balearic equivalent of the American conservatives.

It would be simple to say it's all Bauzá's doing, but simple isn't the right word. Accurate, more like, egged on by the Rodriguistas, a faction whose moniker resonates with bandit implication. José Ramón and Jose Maria (Rodríguez). Neither of them is willing to go quietly. Instead, shamelessness demands they seek to manipulate until the last drop of blood is shed. Bauzá refused to resign as party leader until a replacement candidate of consensus had been found, meaning one of whom he approved. In the end, Madrid has had to step in and force the issue. Miquel Vidal, the party's secretary-general, who had said he didn't want the leadership - out of "loyalty" to Bauzá - is the chosen one. Gore would surely have approved of the machinations and Machiavellianism that have placed his namesake at the head of a party that is stupid, stupider, stupidest.

It's not even as if this is a permanent arrangement. No, it's only until they can hold a congress and elect someone who isn't interim to preside over the yah-boo-suckers of the "unpopulares" and "populares" shouting insults across the playground at each other. God alone knows what will happen when they get round to trying sort out the real successor. Guns maybe. But even before we get to the election of JR's permanent replacement, there is the small matter of the general election. As much as all this nonsense is about the next leader, it is also about determining who gets on the local list for Congress deputies. The president of the party decides: at least in theory.

Looming, therefore, is the mother of all factional Congress battles between, in all likelihood, the "unpopulares" headed by former Palma number two Alvaro Gijón (a gun slinger with the Rodriguistas) and ex-Palma number one Mateo Isern of the "populares" (aka "critics"). And to make this later battle all the more bloody, the "unpopulares" have been smelling a rat. Firstly, they haven't taken over kindly to Madrid nominating Vidal (the Miquel one) and secondly, they sense that Vidal may be going "populares" native. In other words, he's becoming too chummy with Isern, Biel Company and the supposed leader of the "critics", Sebastià Sagreras (the mayor of Campos).

Jaume Bauça (also spelt Bauza), the puppet head of the Rodriguistas, says he won't go along with Vidal's appointment. Unfortunately for the Bauça with a cedilla, it doesn't matter what he thinks, as he is only the put-up job, just as Sagreras is for the other lot. No PP politician from either faction with long-term ambitions wants to go near the temporary leadership job: it's way too poisonous. Hence, two unknowns - Bauça and Sagreras - are thrown to the wolves. Vidal (Miquel) might actually harbour some long-term ambition. When he rejected the post through "loyalty", what he really meant was that he didn't want to have to deal with all the nutters and to be able to keep his powder dry for a possible run at the permanent job. But it seems he's going to have to accept his lot. Miquel is no Gore Vidal, more a Vidal Sassoon, desperately trying to shape a sensible cut and blow dry out of the many bad hair days left behind in the split ends of the José Ramón wreckage.

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