Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Austerity From The Left Social Democratic Parties in The Shadow of The Great Recession Bjorn Bremer Full Chapter
Austerity From The Left Social Democratic Parties in The Shadow of The Great Recession Bjorn Bremer Full Chapter
Social
Democratic Parties in the Shadow of
the Great Recession Björn Bremer
Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/austerity-from-the-left-social-democratic-parties-in-the
-shadow-of-the-great-recession-bjorn-bremer/
Austerity from the Left
Austerity from the Left
Social Democratic Parties in the Shadow
of the Great Recession
Björn Bremer
Great Clarendon Street, Oxford, OX2 6DP,
United Kingdom
Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford.
It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship,
and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of
Oxford University Press in the UK and in certain other countries
© Björn Bremer 2023
The moral rights of the author have been asserted
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the
prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted
by law, by licence or under terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics
rights organization. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the
above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the
address above
You must not circulate this work in any other form
and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer
Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press
198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Data available
Library of Congress Control Number: 2023930922
ISBN 978–0–19–287221–0
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192872210.001.0001
Printed and bound by
CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY
Links to third party websites are provided by Oxford in good faith and
for information only. Oxford disclaims any responsibility for the materials
contained in any third party website referenced in this work.
To my parents, Iren and Klaus
Acknowledgements
Writing this book was a journey that I could not have completed on my own.
The book originally began as a PhD thesis and my utmost gratitude goes to
my supervisor Hanspeter Kriesi. Hanspeter gave me the freedom to choose a
topic that I care deeply about and encouraged me to explore it in many dif-
ferent ways. The final product benefited tremendously from his feedback and
the many discussions about the economic crisis and social democracy that we
have had over the past few years. Most importantly, Hanspeter’s remarkable
desire to understand the social world around us was a constant motivation
throughout this endeavour. He has become my academic role model, and I
will remain forever grateful that I had the chance to work with and learn from
him.
Innumerable thanks also go to the other members of my thesis
committee—Dorothee Bohle, Herbert Kitschelt, and Jonas Pontusson—
whose academic work was an inspiration for this book. Their exceptional
feedback on the original thesis allowed me to rethink some of the basic
assumptions behind my research, and this book would not exist without their
encouragement to keep improving. Of course, none of them bear any respon-
sibility for errors in the book, as I inevitably failed to address all of their
comments.
I am indebted to Reto Bürgisser and Sean McDaniel, who guided my
research as reliable and inspiring collaborators. Their contributions to indi-
vidual parts of this book were critical, and I am very grateful that they
generously allowed me to re-use this material from our collaborations. This
book would not be the same without them, and I look forward to continuing
to work with them in the future.
The thesis upon which this book is based was originally written at the Euro-
pean University Institute (EUI), where I was part of a research project study-
ing the political consequences of the Great Recession, the POLCON project. I
gratefully acknowledge financial support from the European Research Coun-
cil (Project ID 338875) and the German Academic Exchange Service that
funded my position as a researcher in this project. The POLCON project,
and the EUI more generally, was the best possible environment to write my
PhD thesis and I am indebted to many Florentine colleagues for all their feed-
back and help: Argyrios Altiparmakis, Abel Bojar, Endre Borbáth, Pepper
Acknowledgements vii
Despite all of this outstanding academic support, writing first a PhD thesis
and then a book can be a lonely endeavour, especially during a global pan-
demic. Countless friends in Florence, Berlin, Hamburg, the Rhineland, and
around the entire world provided much-needed distraction, and I am grateful
to all of them. Special thanks go to Andreas Winkler, Jens van Straalen, and
Lene Korseberg, who were brave enough to live with me in Florence. They
were wonderful company, ensuring that I truly felt at home in Italy.
Finally, the greatest thanks go to my family. My partner My had to endure
endless ramblings about my work and witness periods of doubts and stress.
Nonetheless, My still put up with all my quirks and bad habits, lifted my spirits
when it was most needed, and showed me that there are many things that are
more important than writing this book. Her love has been my greatest source
of strength in the past decade.
The support from the rest of my family goes back even further. My par-
ents, Iren and Klaus, and my siblings, Torben and Svea, have been my rock
throughout my entire life. Their unwavering faith that my work matters
was the best possible encouragement to complete it. Especially my parents’
unconditional love and support helped me in good and in bad times, and I
could not have written this book without them. It is dedicated to them.
Contents
9. Conclusion 228
Introduction 228
The argument in summary 229
The electoral foundations of social democratic austerity 229
The ideational foundations of social democratic
austerity 231
xii Contents
Bibliography 248
Supplementary material for Chapters 3, 4, 5, and 8 is available on a
companion site at www.oup.co.uk/companion/Austerity.
Index 271
List of Figures
6.2 Left–right position of Labour and the Conservatives over time 138
6.3 Left–right position of the Labour Party for different economic categories
over time 139
6.4 UK government spending and revenues, 1970–2015 143
6.5 UK polls, 2005–15 146
6.6 Attitudes towards government debt in the UK, 2010–15 151
6.7 UK interest rates on government bonds, 1960–2015 160
7.1 German real GDP growth and unemployment rate, 1991–2015 177
7.2 Left–right position of the SPD and CDU/CSU over time 178
7.3 Left–right position of the SPD on different economic categories over time 179
7.4 German government spending and revenues, 1991–2015 183
7.5 Attitudes towards government debt in Germany, 2010–15 193
7.6 German polls, 2005–15 198
7.7 Interest rates on German government bonds, 1991–2015 204
8.1 Support for social democratic parties in twelve Western European
countries, 2005–17 215
8.2 Average marginal effect of austerity on support for social democratic
parties by incumbency 218
8.3 Distribution of attitudes towards spending cuts and the budget deficit by
the propensity to vote for the Labour Party 221
8.4 Estimated effect of attitudes towards the budget deficit on the propensity
to vote for the Labour Party 223
8.5 Estimated effect of attitudes towards spending cuts on the propensity to
vote for the Labour Party 225
List of Tables
Introduction
Before the COVID-19 pandemic ravaged the world, the Great Recession
ranked as the greatest economic crisis in Europe since the Great Depres-
sion.1 The crisis was triggered by the collapse of the American investment
bank Lehman Brothers in September 2008, which sent shock waves through
the international financial system and created a deep deflationary spiral. The
German Finance Minister, Peer Steinbrück, later summarized the feeling that
prevailed among the governing elite at that time, saying, ‘we were all looking
into the abyss’ (Der Spiegel, 2008).
In response to this situation, almost all governments in the advanced
economies responded resolutely: they developed far-reaching government
programmes in order to save tumbling financial institutions and to main-
tain output (Armingeon, 2012; Pontusson and Raess, 2012; Skidelsky, 2010).
Three decades after the Keynesian consensus had fallen apart in the economic
turmoil of the 1970s, policymakers used ‘emergency Keynesianism’ (Hall,
2013) to prevent a depression on the scale of the 1930s. The G20 (‘Group
of Twenty’) collectively vowed to ‘use fiscal measures to stimulate demand
to rapid effect’, and neoclassical economist Robert Lucas even complained
that ‘everyone [was] a Keynesian in a foxhole’ (Fox, 2008).2 However, only
a few months after the beginning of the financial crisis, the economic winds
changed once more, and austerity came back with a vengeance.
The end of the Keynesian era began with the bailout of Greece in May 2010,
which was made conditional on the country’s adherence to strict austerity
measures. Shortly afterwards, world leaders agreed on ‘growth-friendly fiscal
consolidation’ at the G20 meeting in June 2010. According to conventional
wisdom, the Greek crisis illustrated the perils of government debt. It under-
mined arguments for further fiscal stimulus and contributed to a premature
1 The Great Recession is used here as a term that refers to both the 2007–8 financial crisis and the
eurozone crisis; i.e. it conceptualizes both crises as one larger economic crisis.
2 Five years earlier, Robert Lucas (2003) had declared in his presidential address to the American Eco-
nomic Association that such stimulus programmes were no longer necessary because the ‘central problem
of depression-prevention [had] been solved’.
Austerity from the Left. Björn Bremer, Oxford University Press. © Björn Bremer (2023).
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192872210.003.0001
2 Introduction
austerity measures for nearly a decade. Austerity, however, shifted the burden
of the crisis onto the shoulders of the weakest citizens, and the most surpris-
ing element of this settlement is the way in which social democratic parties,
both in and out of power, have acquiesced to it.3
At first, the financial crisis presented social democratic parties with a
unique opportunity to renew their raison d’être. It highlighted the vulnerabil-
ities of unfettered capitalism and undermined the legitimacy of the existing
economic paradigm. Still, social democrats were unable to formulate a coher-
ent intellectual response and largely accepted the shift towards austerity that
began in 2009. In ‘debtor countries’, the centre-left bowed to external pressure
and accepted austerity as a necessary evil (e.g. Greece, Spain, and Ireland);
in ‘creditor countries’, social democratic parties helped to impose austerity
on debtor countries and pursued fiscal consolidation at home. For example,
in Germany, the Social Democratic Party (SPD) supported the introduc-
tion of a constitutional debt brake in 2009 and the balanced-budget policy
(Schwarze Null) after 2013. Similarly, the French government increased taxes
and reduced public spending after adopting the ‘Pact for Competitiveness’
under socialist President François Hollande. Outside the eurozone, before
the 2010 election, the British Labour Party promised cuts that would be
‘deeper and tougher’ than Margaret Thatcher’s (Elliott, 2010), and included a
‘budget responsibility lock’ on the first page of its manifesto in 2015. Accord-
ing to some analyses, social democratic parties became even more likely
to implement austerity and retrench the welfare state than the centre-right
(Armingeon et al., 2016; Raess, 2021).
3 Following Kitschelt (1994, p. 1), social democracy is employed as a generic concept that covers ‘a
cohort of parties that run under socialist, labour and, social democratic labels’. I will use the terms ‘social
democratic’, ‘centre-left’, and ‘moderate left’ interchangeably to refer to these parties.
4 Introduction
democratic parties moved towards the centre at the end of the twentieth
century and adopted more liberal economic policies as part of the ‘Third
Way’(Giddens, 1998), the ‘essential and enduring’ goal of social democracy
was still to minimize the ‘cost of capitalism’ for the working classes (Hirst,
1999, p. 87).⁴ Despite the numerous historical and geographical incarna-
tions of social democracy, its adherents always attempted to decrease social
inequality by creating the conditions for (full) employment and a strong wel-
fare state. However, during the Great Recession, austerity challenged both. It
contributed to the deflationary spiral in Europe and undermined the fiscal
basis of the welfare state that social democratic parties had vigorously fought
for in the twentieth century.
Second, the Great Recession presented a unique opportunity for social
democracy to push for paradigm change after thirty years of economic lib-
eralization. Voters had already punished some social democratic parties for
their Third Way policies before 2008, and the crisis would have been an oppor-
tune moment for the left to facilitate a countermovement in the spirit of Karl
Polanyi (2001). In the past, social democrats were able to do this: in response
to economic crises, they developed and implemented new economic ideas
(e.g. Berman, 1998; Blyth, 2002). The Great Recession provided a similar
opportunity for the centre-left to experiment with new policies and reform
the dominant economic order.⁵ Seeking new alliances with actors in poli-
tics, social movements, and academia, social democrats could have rallied the
left by opposing austerity. Their failure to do so contributed to the ‘strange
non-death’ (Crouch, 2011) or ‘resilience’ (Schmidt and Thatcher, 2013) of
neoliberalism.
Third, a Polanyian-style countermovement became even more likely over
time because austerity, arguably, did not work. From a Keynesian point of
view, austerity made little sense in the post-crisis context (Blyth, 2013; Blyth
and Matthijs, 2017; Sandbu, 2015) and there is growing evidence that it made
the crisis worse by contributing to a deflationary spiral (e.g. Blanchard and
Leigh, 2013; Heimberger, 2017). It contributed to a low-growth environment,
worsening ‘secular stagnation’ (Summers, 2018) tendencies in Europe, which
in turn aggravated the fiscal crisis there. It pushed the eurozone towards the
⁴ I use the term ‘Third Way’, coined by Anthony Giddens, to describe a general turn towards centrist
policies by social democratic parties at the end of the twentieth century, which is well documented (e.g.
Callaghan, 2000; Glyn, 2001; Lavelle, 2008; Pierson, 2001a).
⁵ There was a fleeting moment at the beginning of the crisis when it seemed that social democrats were
capable of doing this again. In countries like the United Kingdom (UK), Germany, and Spain, they played
a key role in the initial response to the financial crisis, while the election of Barack Obama as US President
in November 2008 invigorated progressive forces across the world with hope. They developed a range of
demands for new financial regulation and future-oriented investment programmes and were concerned
with protecting citizens from the effects of the financial crisis.
The puzzle and research question 5
⁶ For example, Labour Prime Minister Ramsay MacDonald formed a National Coalition government to
implement austerity in the UK (Skidelsky, 1970), while the German SPD rejected Keynesian-style policies
and supported the austerity measures implemented by the government under Heinrich Brüning (Berman,
1998).
6 Introduction
30
Vote share (in %)
Party family
20
Centre−left
Far left
10
0
50
60
70
80
90
00
10
20
45
55
65
75
85
95
05
15
19
19
19
19
19
20
20
20
19
19
19
19
19
19
20
20
Year
Figure 1.1 Average vote share of left-wing parties in Western Europe, 1945–2020
Note: The figure shows the average vote share that moderate and far-left parties received in
nineteen Western European countries. For any given year, the share was calculated by taking the
average of the vote share that a given party had received in the last election prior to that
particular year. The countries included are Austria, Belgium, Cyprus, Denmark, Finland, France,
Germany, Greece, Italy, Ireland, Luxembourg, Malta, Netherlands, Norway, Portugal, Sweden,
Spain, Switzerland, and the UK.
There are several existing approaches in the literature that could explain ‘aus-
terity from the left’ or ‘social democratic austerity’, i.e. the broad acceptance
of austerity by social democratic parties in post-crisis Europe. The most
Existing explanations for social democratic austerity 7
(2013) artfully traces a range of ideational developments before the crisis and
shows that, in fact, a symbiosis or a cocktail of these ideas underpins the ways
in which its actors engaged with austerity.
These approaches are useful because they highlight how economic ideas
have fed into the post-crisis politics of austerity. However, to date, the litera-
ture has been unable to effectively explain why austerity was not challenged
by other economic viewpoints. In countries outside of Europe, governments,
indeed, pursued alternative economic policies, and it remains unclear why
other economic ideas gained so little traction in Europe after 2010. In par-
ticular, in focusing on neo- and ordoliberal ideas, the existing literature
potentially delimits our understanding of why social democratic parties
embraced fiscal consolidation.⁷ Historically, social democratic parties were
neither associated with neo- nor ordoliberalism. They developed from a dis-
tinct intellectual tradition, which still influences these parties to this day.
Nonetheless, social democratic parties adopted strategies that embraced an
element of austerity both prior to and during the crisis (see Chapter 3). Why
did the left not articulate an alternative that challenged the dominance of
austerity?
Overall, the existing literature provides several starting points to explain
the austerity settlement, which are more fully reviewed in Chapter 2. These
approaches generate valuable insights, but none of them provide a suffi-
cient explanation for austerity from the left. Unless our conception of social
democratic austerity boils down to suggesting either that social democratic
parties had little choice but to accept austerity or that such actors have merely
accepted a neo- or ordoliberal economic outlook entirely, it is clear that social
democratic austerity requires another explanation. Even today, we still have
a limited understanding of the ways in which social democratic actors have
come to engage with, understand, and ultimately embrace austerity policies,
and this book addresses this shortcoming of the existing research.
This is especially true in the context of economic crises, including the Great
Recession. Such crises are often ‘critical junctures’ (Capoccia and Kelemen,
2007; Collier and Collier, 1991) that open up the political space. They shake
the foundations of the political system and lead to a great deal of uncertainty,
which allows policy entrepreneurs to engineer change. Crises can provoke
actors to shed previous policy commitments and force them to seek new solu-
tions (Kahler and Lake, 2013, p. 10). As actors need to make decisions that
lie outside the normal pattern of politics, agency and contingency come to
the fore (Capoccia and Kelemen, 2007). Since parties serve to articulate the
interests of different social groups and classes (Hopkin, 2020, p. 23), we need
to study austerity as a partisan strategy and understand the political conflicts
behind it.
To this end, my theoretical framework integrates two distinct perspec-
tives. It combines an approach based on ‘the political sociology of political
economy’ (Gourevitch, 1986) with an approach that takes the role of ideas
seriously. Put differently, this book explores the interaction of the electoral
and the ideational foundations of social democratic austerity and studies its
political consequences. Following Beramendi et al. (2015), it highlights that
parties are strategic actors that are constrained by the institutional ecologies
that they inhabit. They are, first and foremost, guided by electoral consider-
ations and use economic policies as the bedrock of electoral strategies that
allow them to build political coalitions. Still, parties are not just conveyor
belts for electoral interests; they are also rooted in distinct ideological tra-
ditions. My framework, therefore, stresses that economic policies are also
influenced by the ideas that parties hold about how the economy works (e.g.
Blyth, 2002; Hall, 1989; Widmaier, 2016). This is particularly true during eco-
nomic crises, when ideas provide explanations of what has gone wrong and
how to fix it (Blyth, 2002; Matthijs, 2011; Widmaier et al., 2007).
by politicians and ‘when politicians make choices …their choices are con-
strained by the need to mobilize or retain support’ (Gourevitch, 1986, p. 19).
This is particularly true of fiscal policies, which are less insulated from party
politics than other economic policies, including monetary policy or financial
regulation. They have significant distributive consequences, they are highly
visible, and they receive a lot of media attention. Consequently, the supply
of fiscal policies is not independent of the demand for them: while politi-
cians can shape and influence public opinion to some extent, they are also its
servants.
To explain social democratic austerity, it is necessary to take electoral pol-
itics seriously (Beramendi et al., 2015) and to focus on the strategic choices
that party leaders faced in the context of the Great Recession. We have to
explore the interdependence between political economy and electoral poli-
tics (Kitschelt, 1999, p. 318), analysing how party leaders cope with voters’
changing demands. Party leaders are political animals, and their actions are
guided by their short-term electoral instincts. As they compete in elections,
they carefully craft their programmes with reference to electoral considera-
tions. They stay closely tuned to the dominant policy mood (Erikson et al.,
2002) or the ebb and flow of public opinion (Soroka and Wlezien, 2010), and
in recent decades, this has been especially true of social democratic parties.
During the Third Way era, these parties adopted a technocratic and man-
agerial approach to politics, viewing being in office as a means to reform
free-market capitalism.
In the context of the Great Recession, this ‘instrumental’ approach to pol-
itics also shaped the centre-left’s programmatic response to the crisis. On the
one hand, low-income households, which social democratic parties aim to
represent, were particularly at risk during the crisis. Expansionary fiscal and
social policies protected them in its immediate aftermath. On the other hand,
the financial crisis was widely narrated as a crisis that had resulted from exces-
sive liberalization of the financial system. This presented centre-left parties
with a window of opportunity to oppose economic liberalism and distance
themselves from the causes of the Great Recession. They shifted to the left on
issues relating to both welfare and economic liberalism, thereby retracting
large parts of their Third Way programme.
However, when the financial crisis turned into a fiscal crisis of the state,
leading European policymakers began to demand the implementation of aus-
terity. The case of Greece set the tone of the debate because the crisis quickly
came to be described as one that had been caused by excessive levels of gov-
ernment debt and ‘irresponsible’ behaviour by governments. Since it was no
longer viewed as a ‘crisis of growth’ but as a ‘crisis of debt’, the salience of
12 Introduction
the medium-to-long term, politicians and other elites have a greater degree of
freedom, however. They can create coalitions against the existing paradigm
by pointing out its shortcomings and proposing an alternative prism through
which to interpret the economy. This process takes time, but it relies on the
existence of leaders who play with new ideas that rally voters against the
previous paradigm and shore up support for the new paradigm.
Social democratic parties were unable to take up this role in the immedi-
ate aftermath of the 2007–8 financial crisis because they were trapped and
divided, which undermined their ability to push for ideational renewal. In
the absence of a clear new economic paradigm, they combined short-term
strategic considerations with technocratic policy initiatives and convinced
themselves that austerity was necessary.
The problem for social democratic parties was twofold. First, they faced
an electoral trap resulting from path dependency. Structural changes had
changed the electoral constituency of social democratic parties (Kitschelt,
1994; Piketty, 2020; Rueda, 2007), but this was compounded by the poli-
cies that these parties had implemented before the crisis. In general, previous
policies have distributive consequences, including the potential to fragment
and divide the electorate (Esping-Andersen, 1985, p. 322). Prior to the Great
Recession, this is what happened as a result of the Third Way. Many working-
class voters had abandoned social democratic parties, and, in the shadow of
the crisis, the complex task of building electoral coalitions became more dif-
ficult. Social democrats were squeezed between an (anti-austerity) far left and
a (pro-austerity) centre-right and faced a dilemma that was not unique in the
history of social democracy: either to promise austerity policies that would
appeal to the median voter but contribute to their own long-term decline
or to adopt policies that opposed austerity but that would keep them out of
power.⁸
Second, social democrats also faced an ideational trap because the imple-
mentation of certain ideas and policies before the crisis had destroyed alter-
natives (Galbraith, 1958). At the beginning of the crisis, observers expected
the financial crash to undermine the dominant intellectual edifice. Yet, in the
short run, the crisis only led to a narrow debate about the merits of finance.
Although the 2010s were a period of flux in macroeconomic thinking, the
basic macroeconomic paradigm remained intact for some time.⁹ Policymak-
ers were able to prevent the Great Recession from turning into another
⁸ For a similar argument for different time periods, see Kitschelt (1994, pp. 93–4) as well as Luebbert
(1991, pp. 227–32).
⁹ Arguably, and as discussed in the Conclusion, the COVID-19 pandemic and the subsequent return
of inflation contributed to a more fundamental rethinking of macroeconomics.
16 Introduction
us that paradigm change takes a long time but also highlights that the social
democratic dilemma was difficult to overcome: anti-austerity policies were
popular but were not perceived as credible in the context of the sovereign
debt crisis.
The problem was that in its search for economic credibility, the centre-left
converged with the centre-right. This undermined the functioning of democ-
racy, as voters were offered little choice by mainstream parties on one of
the most important policy questions of the time (Mair, 2013; Streeck and
Schäfer, 2013). Moreover, as social democrats watered down their economic
programme, they diluted their brand (Lupu, 2016). Although centre-left
parties often lose as a result of economic crises in the short run, they
can benefit from them in the long run (Lindvall, 2014). Embracing auster-
ity during the Great Recession undermined this because it alienated many
(potential) social democratic voters. As austerity developed its full force,
it subverted the welfare state and caused widespread economic grievances.
In this context, it was no longer sufficient for social democratic parties to
combine centrist economic policies with progressive cultural policies, as
they had successfully done during the Third Way (Abou-Chadi and Wagner,
2019). Voters no longer knew what these parties stood for and what eco-
nomic policies they would pursue, as contradictions emerged within their
programme.
Consequently, austerity failed as an electoral strategy (see Chapter 8). As
much as parties tried to win over voters by moving to the centre, they alien-
ated some on the left and failed to persuade some of those they were aiming
to move towards. Many potential centrist voters did not believe that the
centre-left would be best at fiscal consolidation, while the parties’ core voters
opposed austerity and turned away in disappointment. Similar to an earlier
process in Latin America (Lupu, 2016; Roberts, 2014), this contributed to an
electoral crisis of social democracy in Europe.
This book thus argues that social democratic parties need new economic
ideas and electoral strategies to address this crisis. In the wake of the COVID-
19 pandemic, which has led to the highest level of borrowing outside of
wartime, social democratic parties need to confront their programmatic con-
tradictions head-on and set about redefining their brand. As the fight over
budgetary priorities could intensify again in the wake of the pandemic, they
need to carve out an economic programme that is capable of building new
electoral coalitions and gives new meaning to the entire social democratic
project.
18 Introduction
To make this argument, the book uses a mixed-method research design, with
each chapter adding a new layer from a different (but related) analytic per-
spective. It draws on a wide variety of data, and it is divided into four parts,
as summarized in Table 1.1.
The first part asks whether and how the programmatic claims of the centre-
left with regard to the economy have changed during the crisis. It uses the
economic policies of social democratic parties as the dependent variable
and aims to provide a comprehensive description of the social democratic
response to the Great Recession. In particular, it analyses the programmes
of social democratic parties in three different issue areas (welfare, economic
liberalism, and budgetary rigour) and focuses on both the salience that these
parties attribute to economic issues and the positions that they adopt towards
these issues. For this purpose, it uses quantitative content analysis, relying
on a large data set that records the positions of parties in election campaigns
through core sentence analysis. The data come from the manual coding of
newspapers in eleven Western European countries (Austria, France, Ger-
many, Greece, Ireland, Italy, the Netherlands, Portugal, Spain, Switzerland,
and the UK), following the approach used by Kleinnijenhuis and Pennings
(2001) and Kriesi et al. (2008, 2012). Descriptive analysis and time-series
cross-section (TSCS) analysis are then used to explore the data.
The second part of the book studies the demand side of politics. It
analyses public preferences regarding fiscal consolidation as the dependent
variable for evaluating how strong the electoral pressure for austerity was
during the crisis. To this end, I first use data from existing surveys to
study preferences for fiscal consolidation across Europe. In particular, I pool
responses from twelve waves of the Eurobarometer and use regression analy-
sis to examine country- and individual-level determinants of ‘debt aversion’.
However, existing surveys—like the Eurobarometer—that include questions
about preferences regarding fiscal consolidation are problematic. They do not
acknowledge that austerity is potentially costly, i.e. that it is associated with
the cutting of (welfare state) spending or the increase of taxes. While many
respondents might in principle agree that balanced budgets are desirable, it
is not clear whether they are also willing to accept the trade-offs associated
with them. Hence, I also use data from a split-sample experiment and a con-
joint survey experiment (conducted in Germany, Italy, Spain, and the UK),
in which respondents were asked to evaluate different fiscal policy packages.
This allows me to further explore preferences for fiscal policies and to eval-
uate how constrained social democratic parties were in the context of the
economic crisis.
The third part studies the supply side or the ‘elite politics’ of fiscal policies.
It uses case studies to explain the fiscal policies that the British Labour Party
and the German SPD adopted in response to the Great Recession. The focus
of these case studies is not on the actual implementation of austerity measures
in government; rather, the case studies explain party strategies in the wake of
the Great Recession. As argued earlier, they attempt to determine a broadly
‘social democratic’ element of how these parties approached and internally
legitimized austerity.
Importantly, the British Labour Party and the German SPD are used as
‘crucial case studies’ because in both countries the external constraints that
political parties faced during the Great Recession were weaker than in other
European countries. Even before Brexit, the UK was not part of the eurozone
and was subject to less control from Brussels than other European countries,
while Germany emerged as the dominant country during the euro crisis.
Furthermore, interest rates on government bonds remained extremely low in
20 Introduction
both countries, as investors looked for safe havens in the wake of the financial
crisis. This allowed these countries to finance government debt very cheaply,
which meant that market pressures for austerity were effectively absent in
both Germany and the UK. This should have given politicians in these two
countries more freedom to adopt the fiscal policies of their choice, at least
compared to the crisis-ridden debtor countries. And they would have had
good reason to embrace more expansionary fiscal policies, as both of them
experienced a sharp decline in economic output in the wake of the finan-
cial crisis. Although unemployment never reached the heights seen in some
southern European countries, their economies only recovered slowly from
the crisis. Both economies were still running below their potential in 2010,
when Europe’s governments turned towards fiscal consolidation, and eco-
nomic growth remained low for some, as Germany confronted a massive
investment gap while the UK suffered from low economic productivity. In
hindsight, policymakers should have borrowed much more to finance public
investments.
Still, in both countries, social democratic parties largely accepted conserva-
tive fiscal policies and supported voluntary fiscal consolidation. In Germany,
the SPD was instrumental in the introduction of the German constitutional
debt brake in 2009, which was an early sign of the fiscal orthodoxy that would
haunt Europe in the following years. Afterwards, the SPD supported this path
of fiscal consolidation, irrespective of whether it was in opposition (from
2009 to 2013) or in government (from 2013 onwards). It supported almost
all the measures (such as the balanced-budget policy, the Schwarze Null,
and European bailout packages) that the government introduced in response
to the eurozone crisis and which enforced austerity across Europe. In the
UK, Labour lost the general election in 2010 and it was in opposition when
David Cameron implemented austerity. Still, prior to the general election, the
Labour Party had already endorsed the so-called ‘Darling Plan’, which called
for substantial fiscal consolidation and which helped to frame the economic
discourse in the UK for years to come. In opposition, under Ed Miliband,
the party then struggled to define its own fiscal policy, but eventually, it con-
tinued to support fiscal consolidation, advocating deficit reduction and ‘iron
discipline on spending’.
This support for austerity among the centre-left cannot be explained by
structural forces, given that Germany and the UK diverge on many differ-
ent dimensions, as summarized in Table 1.2: they have different economic
systems, they operate in different political systems, and their social demo-
cratic parties had different positions in government at the time of the crisis.
This leads to a ‘most different systems design’ (Przeworski and Teune, 1970),
Outline of the book 21
Germany UK
Concretely, this book is divided into nine chapters. Chapter 2 situates this
work in the context of the existing literature on political economy and party
22 Introduction
politics and outlines the analytical framework. The chapter begins by review-
ing the policies that the centre-left pursued before the Great Recession.
Afterwards, it discusses the various theories that can be used to explain aus-
terity from the left in the context of crisis. It provides a more comprehensive
assessment of these explanations and argues that they are not sufficient to
explain this phenomenon. Therefore, the chapter offers a new explanatory
framework that combines two different approaches. The framework attempts
to bring the ‘electoral turn’ (Beramendi et al., 2015) to the study of fiscal pol-
icy, but it also takes the role of ideas seriously. By analysing the electoral and
ideational foundations of social democratic austerity, it attempts to explain
partisan choices for macroeconomic policies, and focuses on public opin-
ion and its interaction with ideas and the dominant political discourse. This
model will be developed to explain the response of social democratic par-
ties to the recession, but theoretically, it should apply equally to other party
families.
The third chapter analyses how social democratic parties changed their elec-
toral strategies in the context of the crisis. It tests whether parties are strategic
actors that change their programmes in response to economic crises, i.e.
whether we can expect crises to influence party positions in the first place.
The results suggest that this is the case, given that social democrats moved to
the left in response to the crisis. However, this leftward shift did not extend
to all economic issues. On the one hand, social democratic parties defended
the welfare state and opposed economic liberalism after the 2007–8 finan-
cial crisis, which partly reverted their own Third Way. On the other hand,
many parties also supported the reduction of government deficits and taxes
during the crisis; i.e. they joined the chorus of austerity that became the
dominant tune during the euro crisis. This confirms that the positions of
social democratic parties on fiscal policies did not align with their positions
on other socioeconomic policies in the shadow of the economic crisis. The
remaining part of the book explains this incoherent platform by focusing on
the puzzling support for austerity among the centre-left. It focuses less on
the variation among social democratic parties in the extent to which they
accepted austerity, and more on explaining the broad acceptance of austerity
by the centre-left across Europe.
Outline of the book 23
For this purpose, the fourth chapter studies the popular politics of auster-
ity, i.e. the demand side. It uses existing data from Eurobarometer surveys
that ask respondents about their attitudes towards fiscal policy. In particu-
lar, the chapter shows that a large number of voters felt uneasy about their
country’s government debt and seeks to understand why this was the case.
At the beginning of the crisis, on average, 72 per cent of respondents in the
EU agreed that ‘measures to reduce the public deficit and debt [could not]
be delayed’ in their country. Even in 2015, a majority of individuals still
agreed with this statement, indicating that support for fiscal consolidation
remained high throughout the crisis. Chapter 4 analyses this staggering sup-
port for fiscal consolidation and systematically investigates the public’s ‘debt
aversion’ across a large number of countries. It uses regression analysis to
examine the country- and individual-level determinants of preferences with
regard to fiscal policy. The results show that less-well-off people are gener-
ally less concerned about government debt, generating a positive relationship
between income (or wealth) and debt aversion. On the aggregate level, voters
respond to changes in the economy in an anti-Keynesian fashion: they are
more likely to support fiscal consolidation during the bust than during the
boom. Moreover, people’s individual experiences of the economy also medi-
ate the influence of macroeconomic conditions on their support for fiscal
consolidation.
The fifth chapter digs deeper in order to understand the preferences for
fiscal policies better. It uses data from two survey experiments conducted in
Germany, Italy, Spain, and the UK to re-evaluate how strong the electoral
pressure to support austerity really is. First, it uses a split-survey experiment
to analyse to what extent and whether individuals support fiscal consolida-
tion when this comes at the cost of lower government spending and/or higher
taxes. Second, the chapter uses a novel conjoint survey experiment to evaluate
the support for different fiscal policy packages. Following existing approaches
that use conjoint analysis (Hainmueller et al., 2014), respondents had to eval-
uate different combinations of fiscal policies, including fiscal consolidation.
In other words, in a pairwise comparison, participants chose between two
simplified fiscal policy packages and indicated the degree to which they sup-
port each of the proposals. Through randomization, this analysis allows me
to identify the causal effect that consolidation has on the support for a given
24 Introduction
fiscal package. The results from both experiments show that fiscal consolida-
tion is less popular than commonly assumed. Although most citizens support
fiscal consolidation in principle, it is not a priority for them; rather, they are
more concerned about levels of government spending and taxation. This sug-
gests that the centre-left had some scope to interpret and influence public
opinion, despite the consensus for fiscal consolidation that Chapter 4 identi-
fied. The case studies will take up this finding, analysing the extent to which
social democratic parties perceived this as a possibility.
In Chapters 6 and 7, I analyse the elite politics of austerity, i.e. the supply side
of politics. Both chapters primarily use ‘explaining-outcome process tracing’,
as outlined by Beach and Pedersen (2013), to study the fiscal policies of the
German SPD and the British Labour Party in response to the Great Recession.
While Chapter 6 explores the electoral and ideational pressures for auster-
ity within the British Labour Party, Chapter 7 analyses the same pressures
within the German SPD. They situate the fiscal policies of each party in a
historic context and use quantitative content analysis to fully explore these
parties’ programmatic responses to the economic crisis (based on the data
used in Chapter 3). Each chapter then draws on over twenty elite interviews to
draw out the causal mechanisms that contributed to social democratic auster-
ity. Both chapters argue that social democratic politicians are not neoliberal
or ordoliberal ideologues that have accepted the dominance of the market.
Instead, both parties are portrayed as strategic actors that were confronted
with a common problem: the need to establish economic competence and
credibility in the eyes of voters. Faced with a great deal of distrust among
voters with regard to higher deficits and convinced that the path to power
leads through the centre, they tried to appeal to fiscally conservative voters.
They did not believe that they could change public opinion, accepting evi-
dence from conventional surveys as well as focus group research. Internally,
however, these positions were also legitimized by economic ideas that social
democratic parties had adopted before the Great Recession and that were part
and parcel of their Third Way. This ideological framework, based on New
Keynesianism, supply-side economics, and the social investment paradigm,
is distinct from neo- or ordoliberalism, but it contributed to social democratic
austerity and helped to mainstream austerity in Europe.
Outline of the book 25
Introduction
This chapter sets out the theoretical framework of the book. This framework
is based on the premise that austerity was a political choice and that indi-
vidual actors, including parties, play decisive roles in the macroeconomic
governance of advanced economies. Although capitalism is a system, there
are actors within that system whose choices matter. During economic crises,
a focus on agents and their choices is particularly important because these
events are often ‘critical junctures’ (Capoccia and Kelemen, 2007; Collier and
Collier, 1991) that open up the political space. During economic crises, ‘pat-
terns unravel, economic models come into conflict, and policy prescriptions
diverge’ (Gourevitch, 1986, p. 17). They shake the foundations of the polit-
ical system and lead to a significant amount of uncertainty, allowing policy
entrepreneurs to engineer change. Therefore, in the past, economic shocks
have led to major political upheavals, including swings in partisan politics,
institutional innovation, and changes in the dominant economic paradigm.
I thus assume that social democratic austerity was not inevitable. To make
this case, I integrate two theoretical perspectives to explain the economic
policies that social democratic parties adopted in response to the Great Reces-
sion. I combine an approach based on ‘the political sociology of political
economy’ (Gourevitch, 1986) with one that takes the role of ideas seriously
(e.g. Blyth, 2002; Hall, 1989). In doing so, I argue that neither electoral
interests nor economic ideas on their own are deterministic. Rather, it is
necessary to consider both the electoral and the ideational foundations of
social democratic austerity. Following Beramendi et al. (2015), I assume
that parties strategically respond to voters’ (perceived) preferences. They use
economic policies to build electoral coalitions and address the concerns of
particular constituencies. However, parties are not just conveyor belts for
electoral interests. They are also rooted in distinct ideological traditions,
Austerity from the Left. Björn Bremer, Oxford University Press. © Björn Bremer (2023).
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192872210.003.0002
Social democratic parties and macroeconomic policies 27
which create internal cognitive pressures within them. These pressures shape
how policymakers interpret their political interests and the economy around
them.
To develop this framework, the chapter considers the policies that social
democratic parties pursued before the Great Recession. Then it reviews the
existing explanations for social democratic austerity and their shortcomings.
Many of these explanations may contain some truths, but none can fully
explain social democratic austerity. Consequently, I set out my theoretical
framework, focusing on both the electoral and the ideational pressures that
social democrats faced in the wake of the 2007–8 financial crisis. I contend
that social democratic parties were confronted with a dilemma: although aus-
terity was largely unpopular among social democrats, they endorsed fiscal
consolidation in their quest for economic credibility. As the Great Reces-
sion was recast as a ‘crisis of debt’ (rather than a ‘crisis of growth’), they
resorted to old economic ideas with the hope that this would help their
claim to be competent managers of the economy. Social democratic austerity
was, therefore, essentially a defensive move. Since the centre-left found itself
boxed in by old electoral and ideological approaches to fiscal policy, it was
unable to lead the charge against austerity. Over time, this hurt the centre-
left because it alienated some voters on the left and failed to persuade many
of the fiscally conservative voters that social democratic parties were moving
towards.
Although there has never been a single social democratic model (Bartolini,
2000; Keman, 2017), the marriage between social democracy and Keynesian-
ism goes back to the Great Depression.1 European social democratic parties
had been born of the labour movement, a few decades before the historic
economic shock of the Depression. Closely allied with trade unions, polit-
ical parties emerged to fight for the interests of the working class. In the
wake of the Bolshevik revolution in Russia at the beginning of the twentieth
century, however, the labour movement split (Lindemann, 1983): revolu-
tionary socialists who wanted to emulate the revolution in Russia opposed
moderate socialists who sought to reform capitalism.2 In most countries, the
latter group became known as social democratic or labour parties and began
participating in the democratic process.
In 1929, when the Great Depression struck, some of these parties were
even in government; in this context, many social democrats advocated and
implemented deflationary policies, with disastrous consequences (Berman,
1998; Temin, 1989). In the UK, Labour Prime Minister Ramsay MacDonald
opted for austerity against the wishes of a significant segment of the Labour
Party (Skidelsky, 1970). His decision to form a National Government split
the Labour movement, leaving deep scars for decades to come. Similarly, in
Germany, the SPD supported Heinrich Brüning’s government, which imple-
mented harsh spending cuts that worsened the deflationary spiral.3 Only in
Scandinavia did social democrats implement a bold economic programme in
response to the Great Depression; this involved a social compromise between
labour and capital and a shared commitment to full employment (Berman,
1998; Paterson and Thomas, 1986).
After the Second World War, the thinking of John Maynard Keynes (1936)
gave social democratic parties an ideological roadmap with which to abandon
austerity. Keynes believed that the economy did not follow natural laws and
argued that market orthodoxy paid insufficient attention to the problem of
demand. According to his key insight, private investment was volatile, follow-
ing pro-cyclical tendencies and leading to booms and busts. Assuming that
demand fluctuates while supply is stable, he argued that output gaps could
emerge, leading to an under-utilization of economic resources. To address
1 Keynesianism here is defined as a macroeconomic theory which explains and influences the business
cycle. It proposes to use a variety of monetary and fiscal policies to smooth the amplitude of that cycle.
Keynesians suggest that, during economic crises, governments should use loose monetary policies and a
combination of deficit spending and tax cuts to stimulate the economy.
2 The ideological fathers of social democracy, including Eduard Bernstein, emphasized the primacy of
politics, which allowed them to reject Marxist historical materialism. They believed that political action
could significantly improve the condition of the working class.
3 Although largely forgotten in contemporary Germany, these cuts contributed to the rise of Hitler,
paving the way for the Second World War (Galofré-Vilà et al., 2021).
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
“Yes,” she said; and I knew that she had satisfied herself. “Will you
take me away now, at once, please?”
The idea of escape, of liberty once realized, it would have been
dangerous to balk her by a moment. I had acquainted mamma that I
might possibly bring her a visitor. Well, it simply meant that the
suggested visit must be indefinitely prolonged.
Miss Gray accompanied me home, where certain surprises, in
addition to the tenderest of ministrations, were awaiting her. All that
becomes private history, and outside my story. I am not a man of
sentiment; and if people choose to write poems and make general
asses of themselves, why—God bless them!
The problem I had set myself to unravel was what looked deucedly
like a tough psychologic poser. But I was resolute to face it, and had
formed my plan. It was no unusual thing for me to be out all night.
That night, after dining, I spent in the “converted” flat in West
Kensington.
I had brought with me—I confess to so much weakness—one of
your portable electric lamps. The moment I was shut in and
established, I pulled out the paper Miss Gray had typed for me,
spread it under the glow and stared at it. Was it a copy of my
circular? Would a sober “First Aid Society” Secretary be likely, do
you think, to require circulars containing such expressions as
“William! William! Come back to me! O, William, in God’s name!
William! William! William!”—in monstrous iteration—the one cry, or
the gist of it, for lines and lines in succession?
I am at the other end from humour in saying this. It is heaven’s
truth. Line after line, half down the page, went that monotonous,
heart-breaking appeal. It was so piercingly moving, my human terror
of its unearthliness was all drowned, absorbed in an overflowing pity.
I am not going to record the experiences of that night. That
unchanging mood of mine upheld me through consciousnesses and
sub-consciousnesses which shall be sacred. Sometimes, submerged
in these, I seemed to hear the clack of the instrument in the window,
but at a vast distance. I may have seen—I may have dreamt—I
accepted it all. Awaking in the chill grey of morning, I felt no surprise
at seeing some loose sheets of paper lying on the floor. “William!
William!” their text ran down, “Come back to me!” It was all that same
wail of a broken heart. I followed Miss Gray’s example. I took out my
match-box, and reverently, reverently burned them.
An hour or two later I was at Paul’s Exchange, privately
interviewing my manager.
“Did you ever employ a Miss Lucy Rivers?”
“Certainly we did. Poor Lucy Rivers! She rented a machine of us.
In fact——”
He paused.
“Well?”
“Well—it is a mere matter of business—she ‘flitted,’ and we had to
reclaim our instrument. As it happens, it was the very one purchased
by the young lady who so interested you here two days ago.”
“The first machine, you mean?”
“The first—and the second.” He smiled. “As a matter of fact, she
took away again what she brought.”
“Miss Rivers’s?”
He nodded.
“There was absolutely nothing wrong with it—mere fad. Women
start these fancies. The click of the thing gets on their nerves, I
suppose. We must protect ourselves, you see; and I’ll warrant she
finds it perfection now.”
“Perhaps she does. What was Miss Rivers’s address?”
He gave me, with a positive grin this time, the “converted” flat.
“But that was only latterly,” he said. “She had moved from——”
He directed me elsewhere.
“Why,” said I, taking up my hat, “did you call her ‘poor Lucy
Rivers’?”
“O, I don’t know!” he said. “She was rather an attractive young
lady. But we had to discontinue our patronage. She developed the
most extraordinary—but it’s no business of mine. She was one of the
submerged tenth; and she’s gone under for good, I suppose.”
I made my way to the other address—a little lodging in a shabby-
genteel street. A bitter-faced landlady, one of the “preordained” sort,
greeted me with resignation when she thought I came for rooms, and
with acerbity when she heard that my sole mission was to inquire
about a Miss Lucy Rivers.
“I won’t deceive you, sir,” she said. “When it come to receiving
gentlemen privately, I told her she must go.”
“Gentlemen!”
“I won’t do Miss Rivers an injustice,” she said. “It was ha
gentleman.”
“Was that latterly?”
“It was not latterly, sir. But it was the effects of its not being latterly
which made her take to things.”
“What things?”
“Well, sir, she grew strange company, and took to the roof.”
“What on earth do you mean?”
“Just precisely what I say, sir; through the trap-door by the steps,
and up among the chimney-pots. He’d been there with her before,
and perhaps she thought she’d find him hiding among the stacks. He
called himself an astronomer; but it’s my belief it was another sort of
star-gazing. I couldn’t stand it at last, and I had to give her notice.”
It was falling near a gloomy midday when I again entered the flat,
and shut myself in with its ghosts and echoes. I had a set conviction,
a set purpose in my mind. There was that which seemed to scuttle,
like a little demon of laughter, in my wake, now urging me on, now
slipping round and above to trip me as I mounted. I went steadily on
and up, past the sitting-room door, to the floor above. And here, for
the first time, a thrill in my blood seemed to shock and hold me for a
moment. Before my eyes, rising to a skylight, now dark and choked
with snow, went a flight of steps. Pulling myself together, I mounted
these, and with a huge effort (the bolt was not shot) shouldered the
trap open. There were a fall and rustle without; daylight entered; and,
levering the door over, I emerged upon the roof.
Snow, grim and grimy and knee-deep, was over everything,
muffling the contours of the chimneys, the parapets, the irregularities
of the leads. The dull thunder of the streets came up to me; a fog of
thaw was in the air; a thin drizzle was already falling. I drove my foot
forward into a mound, and hitched it on something. In an instant I
was down on my knees, scattering the sodden raff right and left, and
—my God!—a face!
She lay there as she had been overwhelmed, and frozen, and
preserved these two months. She had closed the trap behind her,
and nobody had known. Pure as wax—pitiful as hunger—dead! Poor
Lucy Rivers!
Who was she, and who the man? We could never learn. She had
woven his name, his desertion, her own ruin and despair into the
texture of her broken life. Only on the great day of retribution shall he
answer to that agonized cry.
THE FAIR WITH GOLDEN HAIR
Ho! bring me some lovers, fat or lean,
That I may crunch ’em my teeth between!
I could eat so many, so many, so many,
That in the wide world there would not be left any.
The peer took his settlement with a very bad grace; but he had to
take it, and there was an end of him.
“Avenant,” whispered the Fair, on the evening of their wedding
day, “I have been vain, spoiled, perhaps untruthful. But I wished to
tell you—you can put me to sleep on the middle shelf of your
cupboard.”
“It has been converted into a closet for skeletons,” he said. “I was
a bachelor then.”
THE LOST NOTES
The faculty of music is generally, I believe, inimical to the
development of all the other faculties. Sufficient to itself is the
composing gift. There was scarcely ever yet a born musician, I do
declare, who, outside his birthright, was not a born ass. I say it with
the less irreverence, because my uncle was patently one of the rare
exceptions which prove the rule. He knew his Shakespeare as well
as his musical-glasses—better than, in fact; for he was a staunch
Baconian. This was all the odder because—as was both early and
late impressed upon me—he had a strong sense of humour.
Perhaps an eternal study of the hieroglyphics of the leger lines was
responsible for his craze; for craze I still insist it was, in spite of the
way he took to convince me of the value of cryptograms. I was an
obstinate pupil, I confess, and withstood to the end the fire of all the
big guns which he—together with my friend, Chaunt, who was in the
same line—brought to bear upon me.
Well, I was honest, at least; for I was my uncle’s sole provisional
legatee, and heir presumptive to whatever small fortune he had
amassed during his career. And day by day, as the breach between
us widened, I saw my prospect of the succession attenuating, and
would not budge from my position. No, Shakespeare was
Shakespeare, I said, and Bacon, Bacon; and not all the cyphers in
the world should convince me that any profit was to be gained by
either imagining or unravelling a single one of them.
“What, no profit!” roared my uncle. “But I will persuade you, young
man, of your mistake before I’m done with you. Hum-ti-diddledidee!
No profit, hey? H’m—well!”
Then I saw that the end was come. And, indeed, it was an open
quarrel between us, and I was forbidden to call upon him again.
I was sorry for this, because, in his more frolicsome and
uncontroversial moments, he was a genial companion, unless or
until one inadvertently touched on the theme, when at once he
exploded. Professionally, he could be quite a rollicking blade, and his
settings of plantation songs were owned to be nothing less than lyric
inspirations. Pantomime, too, in the light of his incidental music, had
acquired something more than a classical complexion; and, in the
domain of knockabout extravaganza, not only did the score of “The
Girl who Knew a Thing or Two” owe to him its most refined numbers,
but also the libretto, it was whispered, its best Attic bonnes-bouches.
However, all that good company I must now forgo—though Chaunt
tried vainly to heal the breach between us—and in the end the old
man died, without any visible relenting towards me.
I felt his loss pretty keenly, though it is no callousness in me to
admit that our long separation had somewhat dulled the edge of my
attachment. I expected, of course, no testamentary consideration
from him, and was only more surprised than uplifted to receive one
morning a request from his lawyers to visit them at my convenience.
So I went, soberly enough, and introduced myself.
“No,” said the partner to whom I was admitted, in answer to a
question of mine: “I am not in a position to inform you who is the
principal beneficiary under our friend’s will. I can only tell you—what
a few days before his death he confided to us, and what, I think,
under the circumstances, you are entitled to learn—that he had quite
recently, feeling his end approaching, realized on the bulk of his
capital, converted the net result into a certain number—five, I think
he mentioned—of Bank of England notes, and… burned ’em, for all
we know to the contrary.”
“Burned them!” I murmured aghast.
“I don’t say so,” corrected the lawyer drily. “I only say, you know,
that we are not instructed to the contrary. Your uncle” (he coughed
slightly) “had his eccentricities. Perhaps he swallowed ’em; perhaps
gave ’em away at the gate. Our dealings are, beyond yourself, solely
with the residuary legatee, who is, or was, his housekeeper. For her
benefit, moreover, the furniture and effects of our late client are to be
sold, always excepting a few more personal articles, which, together
with a sealed enclosure, we are desired to hand over to you.”
He signified, indeed, my bequest as he spoke. It lay on a table
behind him: A bound volume of minutes of the Baconian Society; a
volume of Ignatius Donnelly’s Great Cryptogram; a Chippendale tea-
caddy (which, I was softened to think, the old man had often known
me to admire); a large piece of foolscap paper twisted into a cone,
and a penny with which to furnish myself with a mourning ring out of
a cracker.
I blushed to my ears, regarding the show; and then, to convince
this person of my good-humoured sanity, giggled like an idiot. He did
not even smile in reply, the self-important ass, but, with a manner of
starchy condescension, as to a wastrel who was getting all his
deserts, rose from his chair, unlocked a safe, took an ordinary sealed
envelope from it, handed it to me, and informed me that, upon giving
him a receipt, I was at liberty to remove the lot.
“Thanks,” I said, grinding my astral teeth. “Am I to open this in your
presence?”
“Quite inessential,” he answered; and, upon ascertaining that I
should like a cab called, sent for one.
“Good morning,” he said, when at last it was announced (he had
not spoken a word in the interval): “I wish you good morning,” in the
morally patronizing tone of a governor discharging a prisoner.
I responded coldly; tried, for no reason at all, to look threatening;
failed utterly, and went out giggling again. Quite savagely I threw my
goods upon the seat, snapped out my address, closed the apron
upon my abasement, and sat slunk into the cavity behind, like a
salted and malignant snail.
Presently I thumped the books malevolently. The dear old man
was grotesque beyond reason. Really he needn’t have left life cutting
a somersault, as it were.
But, as I cooled outwardly, a warmer thought would intrude. It
drew, somehow, from the heart of that little enclosure lying at the
moment in my pocket. It was ridiculous, of course, to expect anything
of it but some further development of a rather unkind jest. My uncle’s
professional connexion with burlesque had rather warped, it would
appear, his sense of humour. Still, I could not but recall that story of
the conversion of his capital into notes: and an envelope——!
Bah! (I wriggled savagely). It was idiotic beyond measure so to
flatter myself. Our recent relations had precluded for ever any such
possibility. The holocaust, rather! The gift to a chance passer-by, as
suggested by that fool of a lawyer! I stared out of the window,
humming viciously, and telling myself it was only what I ought to
expect; that such a vagary was distinctly in accordance with the
traditions of low comedy. It will be observed that I was very
contemptuous of buffoonery as a profession. Paradoxically, a joke is
never played so low as when it is played on our lofty selves.
Nevertheless, I was justified, it appeared. It may be asked, Why
did I not at once settle the matter by opening the envelope in the
cab? Well, I just temporized with my gluttony, till, like the greedy boy,
I could examine my box in private—only to find that the rats had
devoured all my cake. It was not till I was shut into my sitting-room
that I dared at length to break the seal, and to withdraw——
Even as it came out, with no suggestion of a reassuring crackle, I
realized my fate. And this was it: please to examine it carefully—
Now, what do you make of it? “Ex nihilo nihil fit,” I think you will say
with me. It was literally thus, carefully penned in the middle of a
single sheet of music-paper—a phrase, or motif, I suppose it would
be called—an undeveloped memorandum, in fact—nothing else
whatever. I let the thing drop from my hand.
No doubt there was some capping jest here, some sneer, some
vindictive sarcasm. I was not musician enough to tell, even had I had
spirit for the endeavour. It was unworthy, at least, of the old man—
much more, or less, than I deserved. I had been his favourite once.
Strange how the idée fixe could corrode an otherwise tractable
reason. In justice to myself I must insist that quite half my
disappointment was in the realization that such dislike, due to such a
trifle, could have come to usurp the old affection.
By and by I rose dismally, and carried the jest to the piano. (Half a
crown a day my landlady exacted from me, if I so much as thumped
on the old wreck with one finger, which was the extent of my talent.)
Well, I was reckless, and the theme appeared ridiculously simple.
But I could make nothing of it—not though Mrs. Dexter came up in
the midst, and congratulated me on my performance.
When she was gone I took the thing to my chair again, and
resumed its study despondently. And presently Chaunt came in.
“Hullo!” he said: “how’s the blooming legatee?”
“Pretty blooming, thanks,” I said. “Would you like to speculate in
my reversion? Half a crown down to Mrs. Dexter, and the use of the
tin kettle for the day.”
“Done,” he said, “so far as the piano’s concerned. Let’s see what
you’ve got there.”
He had known of my prospective visit to the lawyers, and had
dropped in to congratulate me on that performance. I acquainted him
with the result; showed him the books, and the tea-caddy, and the
penny, and the remnants of foolscap—finally, handed him the
crowning jest for inspection.
“Pretty thin joke, isn’t it?” I growled dolefully. “Curse the money,
anyhow! But I didn’t think it of the old man. I suppose you can make
no more of that than I can?”
He was squinting at the paper as he held it up, and rubbing his
jaw, stuck out at an angle, grittily.
“H’m!” he said, quite suddenly, “I’d go out for a walk and revive
myself, if I were you. I intend to hold you to that piano, for my part;
and you wouldn’t be edified.”
“No,” I said: “I’ve had enough of music for a lifetime or so! I fancy
I’ll go, if you won’t think me rude.”
“On the contrary,” he murmured, in an absorbed way; and I left
him.
I took a longish spin, and returned, on the whole refreshed, in a
couple of hours. He was still there; but he had finished, it appeared,
with the piano.
“Well,” he said, rising and yawning, “you’ve been a deuce of a time
gone; but here you are”—and he held out to me indifferently a little
crackling bundle.
Without a word I took it from his hand—parted, stretched, and
explored it.
“Good God!” I gasped: “five notes of a thousand apiece!”
He was rolling a cigarette.
“Yes,” he drawled, “that’s the figure, I believe.”
“For me?”
“For you—from your uncle.”
“But—how?”
He lighted, took a serene puff or two, drew the jest from his
pocket, and, throwing it on a chair, “You’ll have to allow some value
to cryptograms at last,” he said, and sat down to enjoy himself.
“Chaunt!”
“O,” he said, “it was a bagatelle. An ass might have brayed it out at
sight.”
“Please, I am something less than an ass. Please will you interpret
for me?” I said humbly.
He neighed out—I beg his pardon—a great laugh at last.
“O,” he cried: “your uncle was true blue; he stuck to his guns; but I
never really supposed he meant to disinherit you, Johnny. You
always had the first place in his heart, for all your obstinacy. He took
his own way to convince you, that was all. Pretty poor stuff it is, I’m
bound to confess; but enough to run your capacities to extinction.
Here, hand it over.”
“Don’t be hard on me,” I protested, giving him the paper. “If I’m all
that you say, it was as good as cutting me off with a penny.”
“No,” he answered: “because he knew very well that you’d apply to
me to help you out of the difficulty.”
“Well, help me,” I said, “and, in the matter of Bacon, I’ll promise to
be a fool convinced against my will.”
“No doubt,” he answered drily, and came and sat beside me. “Look
here,” he said; and I looked:—
“You know your notes, anyhow,” said he. “Well, you’ve only got to
read off these into their alphabetical equivalents, and cut the result
into perfectly obvious lengths. It’s child’s play so far; and, indeed, in
everything, unless this rum-looking metronome beat, or whatever it
may be, bothers you for a moment.”