Hands up who remembers back in the day, at the height of hype on the IT economy, when every half witted career guidance counsellor in the country did their best to pilfer leaving cert students of their dreams by forcing them into dead end computer courses in preparation for a career in call centers? The mass media cheer-led us into a new millennium and we awaited the collapse of work as we knew it Jim, ready to lap it up in the leisure society, with dreams of flexible working from home wearing headsets and tapping keyboards. Then the repetitive drone of the dot com boom was suddenly slapped aside and the realization dawned that while Gates may have got his millions - millions of others were left with nothing but repetitive strain injury and flexiploitation. It’s admirable the myriad of ways they make us swallow their bullshit. They repackage it every once and awhile in a never ceasing effort to make old lines of conflict and tensions once spotted, less obvious.

Related Links:
Class Struggle in the New Economy A Ballad Against Work
Prol Position, home of the Hotlines inquiry into resistance in call centres.
Slavery Calling
The Simon Jones Memorial Campaign a campaign against the casualisation of labour, named after a man killed in a 'workplace accident', due to casualisation and workfare.
Video games on the theme of precarity
Working in a Music Store Interview with a HMV worker.
Green Pepper interview with Chainworkers

Once this was a place of great hope. During the late 1980’s, the Sandinistas were consolidating the revolution in Nicaragua, the FMLN were on the brink of overthrowing the government in El Salvador and the radical movements in Guatemala and Honduras were gaining ground. Today it is a region convulsed by massive delinquency and chronic state corruption whose economies are surviving tenuously on remittance money sent by migrants. The defeat of the revolutionary movements has ushered in an era of social disintegration resulting in a veritable neo-liberal dystopia.

Diary Extract: I scurry over to barrio Martha Quezado – Gringolandia - where once there was a scattering of bars and cheap hotels, the main hang for all the international solidarity activists, Central American guerillas and various renegades and desperados. Today it’s a curious mix of back-packers and local hipster hangouts. The infamous Sara’s bar, where once you could sit around a merry table of quite serious international revolutionaries plotting all kinds of trouble, there is a bunch of ubiquitous students of Spanish and a group of Australian tourists talking about new age spirituality. Up the street, I can’t find the Bobby Sands Bar. Maybe it’s that cell phone dealers store. Or maybe it’s the cobblers. The barrio is unrecognizable. I am quite lost in a place where once, 15 years ago, I spent many days and nights of intrigue and adventure.

I stumble upon an Irish bar called The Shannon. Now here’s a pleasant surprise! Lured by the prospect of a cead mile failte (big welcome), I take a peep. But this new bar is fancy, and populated by a hip crowd. Its reminiscent of a typical Irish theme bar you encounter anywhere across the globe, corny Guinness posters and soccer paraphernalia decorating the walls. I’m disappointed to be told by the standard gorgeous barmaid that they don’t actually serve Guinness. It’s not like the ramshackle Bobby Sands Bar of yesteryear, filled with provos on the run romancing heart-wrenching Salvadoran political refugees.

So I decide that this place, this pastiche representation of a global Irish bar is a symbol of all that has changed in Managua. A neo-liberal outpost trading a cultural brand, profiting upon other peoples misery. I’m appalled: so this is the new Nicaragua, where once there was authentic international solidarity as people shared a common purpose, coming together in the bars at night to exchange experiences of struggle and plot. Now there’s a bunch of random trendy people gathered in a commercial space to have vacuous fun. Revolutionary Nicaragua is dead and gone; it’s with the Bobby Sands Bar in the grave.

Read The Complete Diary Here