If you have visited Barcelona in the
past two years, you may have seen, alongside the senyera estelada, the pro-independence flag, yellow ribbons looped
around railings, graffitied on walls, or hanging on flags from balconies with Llibertat Presos Polítics (Free
Political Prisoners) emblazoned across it. The yellow ribbons are used to show
solidarity for the Catalan politicians and activists who were jailed after the
attempted illegal referendum in October 2017, and to demand their freedom.
Catalonia is a north-eastern
autonomous region of Spain with its own regional government and a separate
cultural identity because of its language, traditions, and distinct history.
Since modern Spain was formed from the union of different kingdoms, Catalonia
has had a complex relationship with Spain’s central government.
When my grandparents were growing
up, they had to be careful when and where they spoke their language, for fear
of repercussions. In my time,
the pro-independence movement in Catalonia has grown rapidly, arguably due to
the refusal of successive Spanish governments to establish any meaningful
dialogue about an independence referendum, or even a moderate constitutional
reform to accommodate Catalan demands for a more effective self-government. In
truth, it was the overturning by the Constitutional Court of the Catalan
statute of autonomy in 2010, which the people had already approved, that first
led many Catalans to demand independence. As I write, the president of the
Spanish government is refusing to even pick up the phone to the president of
the Generalitat (Catalonia’s
government) to discuss how to address the crisis in the streets.
This culminated in the Catalan
government (whose majority party at the time was a coalition of
pro-independence parties) unilaterally deciding to hold a referendum on 1
October 2017. On that Sunday, over two million people came out to try to vote.
At this point, the Spanish government responded with disproportionate violence.
The people who left their houses to vote were met by the Guardia Civil, Spain’s national military police force, who beat
them with batons as they tried to place their ballot papers, and who smashed
into polling booths, harming many civilians. In the days that followed, most
members of the Generalitat, the
speaker of the Parliament, and two leaders of grassroots pro-independence
movements, Jordi Cuixart and Jordi Sànchez, were arrested. Others, including ex-President Puigdemont, chose exile rather than trust
the Spanish judiciary, which has proved notoriously partial on this issue.
Those arrested were tried for up to thirty years in prison on the
charges of rebellion and sedition. Last Monday, after a two year investigation
and trial, the sentences were announced.
Was this jailing proportionate
according to the legal system? Although the referendum was not legal, the
demand to have the right to vote on the independence of a region and the
attempt to have a referendum were completely peaceful. Some people held flowers
in their hands as the riot police beat them with batons, and the phrase “som gent de
pau” (‘we are people of peace’) became popular on placards and in chants. Yet,
these politicians and activists were charged and tried for rebellion, which is
by definition a violent act – “an act of armed resistance to an established government or leader”, and
found guilty of sedition, with sentence lengths comparable to those reserved
for terrorism and rape. Should political dissidence make you a criminal? I
believe that these sentences were not justice, they were revenge. One could
even argue that they were a tool to further immobilise the pro-independence
movement.
Last
Monday, most of the leaders were sentenced to between nine and thirteen years
in prison. In response, people in Barcelona and all around
Catalonia took to the streets to protest, and on Monday thousands of people
occupied Barcelona airport. Constant protests every day this week have seen
police brutality to an extreme not seen in Catalonia since the death of Franco.
This week, for the first time some of the protesters, albeit a
minority, resorted to some acts of violence, with a few policemen injured from
rocks thrown by protestors. Protestors have also been burning bins in the
streets of Barcelona in order to create barricades between themselves and rows
of riot police. It is important to note, however, that this small number of
acts is in response to police brutality: I follow various Instagram accounts to
which people have sent in videos of policemen beating people that they have
already arrested, of people who are sitting or walking peacefully being
bombarded by four or five policemen beating them at the same time. I have seen
videos of a child being hit, police vans purposefully driving into protestors,
and four people have lost one of their eyes; just on Saturday, nearly two
hundred people were injured. Rubber bullets have also been used, and tear gas
thrown by police from the top floors of buildings. My friends in Barcelona have
sent me photos of huge purple bruises that spill over their arms and legs, and
a friend of a friend has had the top of their head split open by a baton.
These
videos cannot be found in the mainstream Spanish media. Amongst the violence
this week and in general since 2017, the Spanish press has been giving a biased
and distorted account of the political conflict in Catalonia. This week’s
reports from Spain’s main newspapers, in particular ABC and El Mundo, have
focussed on victimising the few wounded police, and not reporting the wounded
protesters. They have also expressed their belief that the Spanish government
is not being harsh enough to protesters, and that it should intervene
immediately and take over the Generalitat.
When the Spanish justice system
tried the two main leaders of the grassroots pro-independence movement, the
“two Jordis” as they are known, they unnecessarily imprisoned leaders that had
always defended explicitly peaceful civil disobedience. After years of
protesting massively and peacefully, of making pacifism a core belief of the
pro-independence movement, this week people questioned why they should not turn
to aggression if they would be imprisoned anyway. If you come to protests,
exercising your civil right to political demonstration, with your hands held
up, but leave with your face stained with blood, would you hold strong in your
belief for absolutely no political violence? Most pro-independence Catalans
still do, but the more radical ones, particularly young people, are beginning
to question this.
In the place of the two Jordis came
Tsunami Democràtic, another grassroots movement which organised the
demonstrations this week. Yet, this movement is less explicitly pacifist than
the one that came before, and seems prepared to disrupt on a more extreme
level: for example, the occupation of the airport on Monday, and the burning of
bins in the streets. What happens when you remove the peaceful leaders, and
sentence them to disproportionate sentences? Something more provocative comes
in its place. This does not make violence justifiable, but it helps to explain
how people turn to it.
The justice system
in Spain is clearly flawed: by unnecessarily criminalising leaders committed to
a peaceful democratic process, after the government had already treated
peaceful demonstrators with police brutality, it has further radicalised the
independence movement.