Owned by pigs, we’re stuck in a pit of snakes

We already knew that bloated corruption and snake-eyed greed has long been the currency which governs us; the Panama leaks were just the proof, writes Suzanne Harrington

THERE are a lot of animal metaphors in this column. I apologise in advance to any animals who might be massively offended at being compared to politicians and the so-called capitalist elite. Sorry about that, furry friends.

Let’s start with this one, and see if you can spot the inaccuracy — “A nation of sheep, ruled by wolves, owned by pigs.” Yes, it’s nation. Or rather it isn’t. It’s an entire world of sheep, ruled by wolves, owned by pigs. As we bleat about, cowed by debt, financial anxiety, and a terrible confidence trick called austerity, the wolves and pigs have been playing away. Turns out refugees are not the only thing they prefer offshore.

The Panama Papers come as no surprise. We already knew that bloated corruption and snake-eyed greed has long been the currency which governs us; the Panama leaks were just the forensics. The actual proof.

How can it still be like this? Words like democracy and egalitarianism are rendered meaningless when social mobility based on graft and merit has been replaced by a game of snakes and ladders where a tiny few have pulled up the ladder, leaving everyone else trapped in a pit of snakes.

It comes as no surprise that the wealthy elite respond to money the way crack addicts respond to your handbag — smash and grab, more and more, hide it away — but what is genuinely shocking is how we, the global millions, continue to allow this to happen.

Tax is not just for the little people. As my accountant always reminds me, when I twice yearly burst into tears as he calculates my pathetic bill, tax is the admission ticket to a civilised society, where everyone contributes so that the society can remain civilised. Roads, schools, hospitals, that kind of thing. The alternative is a kind of feudal two-tier society, where the elite are ferried to hospital in gold-plated helicopters, while the poor perform their own dentistry with pliers and kitchen cutlery. You know, like America.

We sheep know the importance of tax — and if we ever try to duck out of it, we are persecuted, prosecuted, harangued — but the wolves and pigs across the planet have devised all kinds of cunning, shameless, and crucially, legal strategies so that they and their mates pay as little as possible. Preferably none.

From Beijing to London, the political elite have been squirrelling away their millions and billions, individually and corporately. Charles Haughey excelled at this. David Cameron says it is a private matter. Imagine writing that on your tax return form. Imagine wanting to.

Ireland has just spent considerable energy commemorating a rebellion from 100 years ago, which reminds us that we are capable of such acts when needed. This is encouraging.

While not advocating an actual French revolution — bit messy, frankly— we need to remind ourselves that the tiny elite, whom 30 years ago Tom Wolfe ironically called The Masters of the Universe, are exactly that — tiny. We are many, they are few. How can we make things fairer and kinder?