domingo, 5 de noviembre de 2017


Almost a week into the takeover and things aren’t looking particularly good. It has become clear by now where we can find support for our struggle. Answer, nowhere. We have been thrown back in time, or perhaps forward, from our peaceful and democratic, if somewhat haughty, republic to traditional Madrid misrule. It has always been like this and it will always stay this way, that seems to be the message we have received these days from our various “partners” and enemies. You thought you lived in Catalunya, you thought you had the right to create your own society, you thought that your relative success was a measure of the viability of your visions, you thought the only way was up – but no, sorry, you lot, you happen to live in Spain. Spain is different, remember? Now deal with it. After months, weeks and days of anxiety, hope and euphoria, reality has sunk in. We are beginning to get a picture of where we are heading. What we now know:

Podemos are traitors. They side with Rajoy to defend the holy unity, whereas every politician worth their salt could have seen that the Catalan Question was an ideal chance to rally many of Spain’s malcontents against the central government, after all the main culprit of their sorry state, and demand the change at national level they claim to seek. Podemos are nothing but words, with Pablo Iglesias the pied piper who leads the innocent away from their destiny. It makes me retract what I wrote about Ada Colau for president, though I do appreciate her as maire. It’s her job to improve the town and so far she has been doing that. I was inspired to these harsh conclusions by the excellent blog elrobotpescador, in Spanish.

Podemos’ treason has inevitably turned our struggle into a total loss. We have not managed to escape in time, if ever we stood a chance, and are at the mercy of those who have called for our punishment on nationwide television, with their local representatives buddying up with the most rancid of anti-Catalunya organisations. It is our task to calm these nervy types down to avoid malice. Nothing easy, as the growing number of incidents involving hardcore unionists beating up bystanders indicates. Surely no politician or medium is going to help out, pretending it’s all our own fault. It’s this type of irresponsible idiocy which makes you feel most vulnerable and alone. Moreover, the complete lack of understanding for our predicament by the European Union is starting to feel unpleasant once again. The careful optimism of only last Monday is quickly fading.

There’s no denying any longer, all this was a play, a psyop, written well in advance. La burgesia catalana has sold us out once again. I can’t imagine it was their initiative this time around, as there was nothing to fear from Barcelona’s thriving middle class, though they eagerly offered us as bait for Madrid’s insatiable usurpy. The rich get to keep their town, so who cares the price the working classes pay? They are, as always, left to their own devices. The script was written in Madrid, by the most despicable of characters, only interested in keeping their fellow men poor and uninformed, and likely edited in Brussels. The weeks leading up to December’s Xmas elections will be full of minor surprises, but the end is there for everybody to see. How on earth can Madrid grant administrative powers back to ERC unless it is completely sure of their adherence to the new status quo? Expect dirty tricks by the truckload and distrust any positive result.

Under all these pressures, the movement is inflating. Late arrivals are the first to leave. People are tired, they want to go back to their lives. Winter is coming. The great demonstration against the imprisonment of the govern, which should have taken place yesterday, is called for next weekend. What are we protesting by that time? I guess ANC and Òmnium want their leaders out of jail and have decided to throw the towel. With Barcelona’s main newspapers against us from the beginning and now calling for Puigdemont to end the farce and give himself in, our president is the last man to defend the purpose of our struggle and somehow influence the outcome. It is important to remember that psyops can never be written until the last page. They draw up the roadmap, but unforeseen circumstances, having mostly to do with the resilience of the losing side, may slightly adjust the end result. You sometimes get the feeling that putting up a good show is minimal requirement to be considered for favourable intervention from above, in recognition of an entertaining episode in the great work in progress called human history. So I say, stay free, Puigi! Don’t let those bastards get their dirty little hands on you.

Among its opponents, FC Barcelona is known as Farsa. El més que un club is just as ugly and greedy as the rest of them, and their titles just as unjustifiably won, the reasoning goes. You can say the Catalan independence movement has been a farce. History repeated itself, but this time without casualties. In the archives of the city of Barcelona there is news film about the militias leaving for the Aragó front in the summer of 1937. The camera is following the open cars and trucks full of young men and women turning from Passeig de Gràcia onto La Diagonal, cheered on by large crowds. A couple things are noticeable. People are very stylishly dressed, men in high-waisted wide trousers with a white, blousing shirt, the women in skirts which only just cover their knees. Men wear their hair short but thick, with locks freely flowing in the wind. People’s manners and faces are decidedly modern. They are sure they are going to successfully defend their accidental republic, not realising that some in the crowd are fully aware they have been sold out. Knowing all was lost less than two years later, makes looking at this beauty heart wrenching. Now we have written a similar story, only this time we won’t grab for arms to defend ourselves. We walk out on the street when everybody does and we meme our disappointments. Another glorious defeat.

I guess it’s always good to know who your friends are. We have none. That is nothing to get embittered about, it’s just a realisation. If you want to change your world, know that nobody will come to your rescue and that the story of your little revolution has already been written and is waiting in some drawer to be used against you. Still, if you feel you are right to fight injustice, don’t let certain defeat hold you back. Feeling all those different emotions run through your body is a most enlightening experience. And, as easily as you lose friendships, you are bound to make new ones. Therefore, outcasts of this world, dream on. Keep rising up and keep questioning. For one things is sure, you will never trust authority again, and that shall be your greatest victory.

Fins la república sempre!

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