Spain: There could still be a grim joker or two in ETA's cards, writes Paddy Woodworth.
Terrorist groups very rarely do what is expected of them.
The rumours that ETA would call a ceasefire on Easter Sunday have been circulating for months. They were amplified by the Basque group's unprecedented, and repeated, condemnations of the Islamist bombings in Madrid last month. They sounded around the world when Arnaldo Otegi, the leader of Batasuna, the banned party close to the thinking of ETA, was thought to have said in a Good Friday interview that a ceasefire was imminent.
But Sunday morning came, and though even the BBC, which broke the story of the 1998 ETA ceasefire, was still predicting an announcement from the group, nothing happened.
Perhaps the group simply did not like the impression being given that it was dancing to anybody else's tune. As a dancemaster, Arnaldo Otegi does not have the same influence on ETA's rhythm as Gerry Adams has on the IRA's.
Perhaps the organisation simply never had any intention of calling a ceasefire. The only certainty is that no one outside its hermetically-sealed structures is certain what is going on.
But the fact is that the moderate Basque nationalist newspaper Deia, which published the original Otegi interview, did not even mention an ETA ceasefire in the headline. Instead, it focused on Otegi's demand that the incoming Spanish government allow his party to run in the European elections. He did start off by talking about Easter Sunday being a "big day", but he was referring to the announcement of new political proposals for Basque "nation-building", not a ceasefire.
Much further down the interview he certainly had interesting things to say about - and possibly to - ETA. Challenged as to whether an ETA ceasefire was not a precondition for any political progress for Basque nationalism, he said: "Well, I don't know, that's like the fish biting its own tail." He continued, perhaps recalling Gerry Adams's catchphrase to David Trimble about both sides having to "jump together" to move forward: "I've only found one solution to that conundrum, which is that if everyone has to take decisions, we are going to take them together." He added that he was "convinced" that ETA was willing to give up armed struggle and that its statements after the Madrid bombing, calling for talks with the Spanish government, "point in that direction". But he did not say under what conditions, or when, such a cessation might occur.
Before the Madrid bombings, well-informed observers on the ground in the Basque Country were inclined to dismiss talk of a ceasefire, which emanated from non-violent Basque nationalist groups who have long wanted ETA to end its armed campaign. ETA then announced in mid-February that it was already on ceasefire in Catalonia, but that the rest of Spain was still being targeted. This was widely seen as a coldly cynical manoeuvre, since ETA knew it was unacceptable to any Spanish - or indeed Catalan - political party.
Even a week after the Madrid bombings, with both Batasuna and ETA condemning the terrorist attacks in terms never heard before, wise voices counselled caution. "There is no 'chatter' within ETA itself," one experienced Basque journalist told The Irish Times in mid-March. "There are no internal communiqués, no unusual meetings that we know of. All this talk is coming from people who want it to happen, not those who can make it happen."
Nevertheless, the pressure on ETA to hang up its guns is now enormous, and may be irresistible. Many members of Batasuna were disgusted when ETA ended its 1998/9 ceasefire. The party lost half its support in the subsequent Basque elections and has had to accept the humiliation of being made illegal with minimal popular outcry in its own heartlands.
Most senior figures probably now want an end to violence, and Otegi may be using megaphone diplomacy with the armed leadership with his recent public statements.
However, Otegi is not Adams and Batasuna is not Sinn Féin. A leading terrorism adviser to the outgoing prime minister once complained privately that "there is no point in my talking to Batasuna, these people carry no weight with ETA". He was exaggerating, but history shows that the military tail has wagged the political dog in almost every ETA debate.
The current leadership of ETA is not well-known, but it is thought to be inexperienced and more radical than its predecessors. Even these leaders will be aware, though, that Spanish public opinion will be firmly set against any deal with domestic terrorists post-March 11th. Yet the incoming prime minister, José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero, will probably deal more flexibly with Basque nationalist demands after a ceasefire than the outgoing Partido Popular would have done, although he is not saying so publicly.
That stick and that carrot should prove attractive, if rationality prevails.
Continuing police success against ETA should also be persuasive. Several alleged senior figures have been captured in the past two weeks. The group's infrastructure is at one of its weakest points in 45 years.
The final internal argument for a ceasefire now is probably a brutal and pragmatic one: killing some unfortunate policeman or local councillor on a Basque back road has no media impact after March's carnage, and ETA's own statements suggest that it has no stomach to compete with al-Qaeda in the atrocity stakes.
So a ceasefire is on the cards, but not inevitable, and there could still be a grim joker or two in ETA's pack.