Basque Country: Thoughts of a return to war as unusual as the bad weather
Resistance to austerity more resigned than militant
A man walks past graffiti sprayed on a bank window in Bilbao’s Gran Via during a general strike called by Basque nationalist unions ELA and LAB. The graffiti reads: “Burn capitalism”. Photograph: Vincent West/Reuters
We were having a very good lunch, if a simple one by the standards of this city of world-class gastronomy: scrambled eggs with wild mushrooms harvested that morning, toasted goat’s cheese salad and curdled sheep’s milk with honey.
But the woman opposite me was in despair. She spends her working life promoting Basque culture abroad and always encourages foreigners to visit her country.
The previous day she had met two irate Irish women in the old quarter of San Sebastian. They had two questions that it pained her to answer.
Firstly, why were the narrow streets howling like wind tunnels, propelling buckets of rain horizontally at almost frightening speed? Wasn’t the early summer supposed to be balmy here, ideal for leisurely, sunny strolls around the city’s Belle Époque promenades?
She didn’t like to tell them that the weather had been like this throughout the month. I’ve been visiting the Basque Country since 1975 and I’ve not seen such constant rain in the worst of winters.
We are all getting used to extreme weather but what the Irish tourists could not understand was why nothing but nothing was open in the city.
Here they were, on their first day in the pintxo capital of the world, the place with more Michelin stars per square kilometre than Paris, and every door was shut, all the shutters down.
My friend could hardly bear to explain to these luckless visitors that they had happened to arrive during a general strike. Or that this was the eighth (or was it ninth?) such union protest against austerity policies since 2009.
The Madrid press, which rarely gets anything entirely right about the Basque country, described this strike as a failure.
It certainly didn’t look like that in San Sebastian, though the stoppage had much less impact in the other Basque capitals, Bilbao and Vitoria. True, public transport was still running here, but throughout the old quarter, and even in the comfortable middle-class suburb of Gros nearby, almost every shop and bar was in darkness.
The handful of places where people were still working had a shifty look about them, their lights dimmed, steel blinds sometimes half-down over the door.
The strike was successful here because San Sebastian, and the surrounding province of Guipúzcoa, is the main stronghold of a resurgent left-wing Basque nationalist group Bildu.
This movement has emerged from the ruins of Eta’s terrorist campaign for Basque independence. It has rapidly exceeded its own expectations in proving that the vote can be a lot more powerful than the bomb.