The true nature of the situation in Catalonia is very largely
unknown outside Spain. Briefly, this is due to a mixture of the Black Legend, a
failure to understand the history of Spain in the 20th century (and
in particular the consumption without proper digestion of George Orwell’s
Homage to Catalonia), and a large-scale propaganda exercise by the Catalan government. This article, which was published in the British Liberal Democrat
magazine Liberator on 20 November 2017, offers a true description of the
situation. It is reproduced here with the author's approval.
Beyond the smoke and mirrors
There is a place in Europe where
- an ethnic minority of people, identifiable by their surnames,
govern the rest
- the government will only communicate with the people in the language
of an elite minority
- most children cannot be taught in their own language and are
punished for using it in the school playground
- shopkeepers who use the wrong language in their signs face hefty
fines
- schools display government propaganda in the classrooms
- the parliament has not met for weeks because the government wants
to avoid debate
- public TV and radio are under the iron control of the government
- the government has territorial ambitions on the land of four other
countries
- an important sports club changes the colour of its strip to show
that that it publicly supports government policy.
That place is called Catalonia.
Catalonia led Spain’s industrialisation, with many people coming
from poorer parts of the country to find work, just as the Irish and others
flocked to the North of England. They worked in the factories and produced
wealth for the Catalan bourgeoisie who owned them. But power remains in the
hands of those old families, whose names are almost the only ones to be found
at the top of politics and business: Puigdemont, Pujol, Ferrusola, Colau,
Forcadell, Turull, Forn etc. In Catalonia as a whole the 20 most common names
are Spanish: they end in ‑ez like Hernández and Pérez as well as Garcia (itself
a Basque name) but very few of them are to be found at the top. Of the 16
ministers of the present Catalan government, only two do not have traditional
“Cathar” names as they are sometimes known. The people whose families originate
from other parts of Spain, and who overwhelmingly speak Spanish, feel
discriminated against. It is as if power in Yorkshire were in the firm grip of
the Arkwrights, Oldroyds, Sutcliffes and Hardakers while the Joneses,
Robertsons, Murphys and Patels are scarcely visible. And a knowledge of
Yorkshire dialect is essential for employment.
Let there be no doubt. Catalan independence is driven from the top
by the wealthy classes. And the imminent EU-Andorra banking agreement, which
will end banking secrecy, is believed to be behind the desperate move to get
Catalonia out of the EU before January. They have €55bn at stake up in the
mountains. At the other end of the spectrum, there has been vociferous
opposition to independence from Catalonia’s gypsy community.
Language is a potent tool by which these 400 families maintain
their position. Although Catalonia is officially bilingual and has a
Spanish-speaking majority, the government only uses Catalan in official
communications; if you write a letter to a public authority in Spanish, the
reply will come in Catalan. It may be that you exercised your constitutional
right to use Spanish because you can’t understand Catalan. Hard luck mate, find
a translator!
Catalan is the only language that can be used for teaching all
subjects in schools (expect for Spanish, which is taught as a foreign
language). Inevitably, children from Catalan-speaking families (i.e. the elite
minority) have an advantage – not to mention the problems facing
Spanish-speaking children with mental illness and/or learning difficulties. A
family in Balaguer that tried to enforce their right to have their child taught
in Spanish were run out of town and lost their business.
A qualification in Catalan is required for any public post.
Protectionism is hardwired into the Catalan upper class who became rich behind
huge tariff walls on textiles. They can’t do that now so they use language as a
non-tariff barrier to employment of non-Catalans.
Shopkeepers and other business-owners are required to label their
businesses in Catalan at least. In practice that means Catalan only and hefty
fines are applied to even the most humble tradesman who puts up a shop sign
that is not in Catalan – unless it’s in Chinese or Urdu. The main thing is that
it must not be in Spanish.
Schools that are allowed only to use the Catalan language are
easily persuaded to indoctrinate government policy, and that is what has
happened. Many schools have banners and posters calling for independence and
display the “estelada”, the independence flag with the star on it. Teachers
take children out of school to participate in pro-government demonstrations.
The Catalan parliament has not met for almost two months, apart
from set-piece sessions to do with independence. The government can rule
without it, so what's the point?
Catalan TV (TV3) costs €225m and employs 2,312 people (2016) for a
population of seven million. It is used shamelessly as a propaganda station. It
works with a loyalty that makes the old Soviet Pravda and Radio Moscow look
like positive models of pluralism. The Catalan government also pays cash
subsidies to private media. The leading Barcelona paper La Vanguardia got a
bung of a million euros last year; not surprisingly, it follows the
government’s pro-independence line slavishly.
The nationalists are not content with taking control of what is
commonly known as Catalonia. They want the Països Catalans (Catalan lands),
which include three separate parts of Spain as well as Catalonia, parts of
France and Italy, and all of Andorra. These are the places where Catalan is
spoken. Language drives everything – Catalonia must comprise all the lands
where Catalan is spoken. The weather map on TV3 shows all of this area.
Football fans may have noticed that a few years ago Barça started
playing in a yellow strip. Yellow is the colour of independence and Barça
officially supports independence. The club has been in trouble with FIFA for
allowing political (pro-independence) flags and symbols at its matches. It
usually plays now in a strip that has the red and yellow stripes of the
constitutional Catalan flag, but a blue trim round the neck and shoulders is a
clear gesture to the blue triangle on the independence flag.
The referendum
The 2015 Catalan election was called as a plebiscitary election (a
tool of 1930s dictators) to endorse independence rather than to elect a
parliament. Unfortunately for the government, the result was a disaster for the
government party. Instead of the absolute majority that it confidently
expected, it lost seats. In order to stay in power it had to do a deal with an
anti-system party (CUP). We thus have the sight of, in British terms, a Tory
government relying on George Galloway for its majority. Even together, this
unholy alliance got only 47% of the votes cast (no election has ever produced a
majority of votes for pro-independence parties) but the heavy bias in
constituency boundaries in favour of the nationalist areas gave them a small
majority (72/135) in the Catalan parliament.
This majority of seats (but not of votes) was taken as a mandate
for a declaration of independence. In the night of 6/7 September the Catalan
government broke parliamentary regulations to force a bill through without the
requisite prior scrutiny. This became an Enabling Law that allowed the
government to override the Spanish Constitution and the Catalan Statute of
Autonomy, which needs a two-thirds majority for amendment. The parliament’s own
lawyers left no doubt that the government was acting contrary to their explicit
advice.
They then passed a law calling a referendum, as is known. What is
not so well known is that a second law called for the automatic declaration of
independence by the parliament in the event of a Yes vote. The Spanish
government referred all this to the Constitutional Court claiming that the
Catalan government was acting ultra vires in trying to change the Spanish
Constitution. The Court accepted the referral and thus automatically suspended
it for five months for consideration. That is why the holding of the referendum
was illegal: it was done in contempt of court. The referendum went ahead
despite that. The British equivalent would be Holyrood applying for a
referendum under the Scotland Act, being refused, and holding it anyway.
The Catalan Supreme Court ordered the Mossos (Catalan Police) to
seal and guard the polling stations during the Saturday night so that voting
couldn’t even start. The Catalan police chief said expressly that he accepted
the order. Then early on Sunday morning he stood his people down and ordered
them to do nothing. That is a matter of incontrovertible fact for which he will
face a charge of sedition in the Catalan Supreme Court (he is already facing
one for a different matter). That left the Spanish police and Guardia Civil to
act late, without preparation, in hostile territory, in front of carefully
placed TV cameras, and amid a barrage of fake news coming out of Moscow. During
all that day the Mossos used a special (and illegal) communication system that
kept no record of messages exchanged and orders issued.
Hundreds of people injured? According to the Catalan health
service only four were hospitalised. One of those was a bystander who had a
heart attack and two others were discharged within 24 hours. But yes, hundreds
were attended to because every bump and bruise was taken to swell the records
of an organisation whose staff were under orders to allocate a special code to every patient who arrived that day,
whatever the actual cause of their injuries.
The police may indeed have overstepped the mark. On referendum day
itself the Catalan prosecutors opened investigations into police actions.
Such is the mistrust of the Mossos that the Catalan Supreme Court
has removed their responsibility for security in the courthouse and handed it
to the Spanish Policía Nacional.
When a regional government drives a cart and horses through any
kind of legality, the central government has to act. That is what is happening
now.
Political prisoners?
Finally, a lot has been said about the two Jordis. Let’s get this
clear. In the run-up to the referendum the Guardia Civil were executing an order
from the Catalan Supreme Court to search the Catalan Economy Ministry. While
they were there a mob assembled outside the building, trapping them inside. The
mob trashed three Guardia Civil cars, stealing the weapons and ammunition that
were inside them. The two Jordis were the leaders and instigators of that mob. They
are remanded in custody awaiting trial; they are not prisoners serving sentences.
The Mossos, who had responsibility for guarding and protecting the
Guardia Civil, were nowhere to be seen that day, leaving them in the building
for 14 hours. A court secretary who was witnessing the search escaped over the
roof and mingled with a crowd of theatre-goers. A Catalan Supreme Court judge had
to phone the chief officer of the Mossos personally and order (sic) him to get
off his backside and do the job he was paid for. The chief is under formal investigation
for sedition as a result of that incident.
What now?
This text is closed on the afternoon of Thursday 26 October with
the situation changing by the minute. Earlier today the Catalan First Minister postponed
and then cancelled an appearance in which he was expected to announce
elections. It is expected that tomorrow the Spanish Senate will trigger Article
155 of the Constitution, which gives the Madrid government the power to take
over and manage, but not modify or abolish, the Catalan regional government. It
is not clear what the reaction will be. This morning the Spanish police
prevented the Catalan police from burning a large number of documents.
The Watcher adds these personal anecdotes.
On Thursday 26 October, the day on which this article was closed. I
happened to spend the evening in a rooftop bar in Roger de Lluria near to Paseo
de Gracia. We looked down towards the Catalan Parliament and saw a considerable
amount of helicopter activity. We could do nothing, but there was an atmosphere
of great uncertainty among our group of friends.
Not long before that, on Tuesday 10 October 2017 I happened to be at
María Cristina in the Sarrià district of Barcelona at about six o’clock in the
evening when I heard a helicopter overhead flying along Avenida Diagonal. I looked
up. It was a police helicopter of course, for in the circumstances no other
aircraft could possibly have been flying so low over the city. The question, however,
was whether it belonged to the Guardia Civil or Spanish Policía Nacional and
was keeping watch in defence of the constitution and rule of law, or whether it
was from the Mossos (Catalan police) preparing for the occupation of the port
which was known to be their intention. It was dusk and I couldn’t make out the identification.
I got on a bus to go home and took out my phone to call my wife. Then I found
that the mobile phone network was down. I started worrying. I saw no sign of trouble in the streets (but I was in a peaceful
residential area far from the city centre) and in the end the phone came back
and all was normal. But that is how we lived in Barcelona at the time.
As if that
were not enough, the city’s buses and metro stations have started sporting pro-independence
advertisements sponsored by a secessionist group called Òmnium and referring to
an event in the Supreme Court trial when one of the defendants said “We’ll do
it again.”
