La Diada 2012 – When It All Began

As I continue with my new writing project, here I look back on the first Diada 2012, when for most of us the independence movement kicked off in earnest. I thought the project was going to be about Artur Mas but this looks like an ideal first/introductory chapter to me. Actually, if I think back to Catalonia is not Spain, it took me about five log posts until I really knew what the book was going to be about, so here’s another working title The Process: Catalonia’s Journey to Independence, but as I’ve said before nothing is written in stone.

La Diada 2012 – When It All Began

Black upon white, the silhouetted forearms of the bastoners banged out the rhythm of the traditional Catalan stick dance. Over the percussion, famous Catalan actors and musicians recited the central section of Salvador Espriu’s emblematic poem The Bull’s Hide. “We will try to build in the sand the dangerous palace of our dreams. Dreams. Dreams.”

Amongst the famous faces, there were others as yet still completely unknown to me. “And we will learn this humble lesson throughout the whole tiring time.”

In effect, it was the presentation of Carme Forcadell, Muriel Casals, Joan Rigol and Ferran Requejo to a wider public. “Because only then are we free from fighting. Fighting.”

These people were soon to become the leaders of a popular movement that was about to burst into life. “For the final victory over fear. Listen, Sepharad. Listen.”

The message was clearly addressed to the Catalan people, the Sepharad of the poem. “For humans cannot be unless they are free. Free. Free.”

This was a direct call to action to the Catalans to return from the wilderness and reclaim their identity. “Understand Sepharad that we will never be unless we are free. Free. Free.”

The poem had acted as a rallying cry for the Catalans under the oppression of Franco’s dictatorship. “Let the voice of all the people shout.”

And now the ghost of Espriu was rallying the Catalans to call for independence from Spain. “Amen.”

The poem finished. The percussion stopped. Silence. The words “Independence is Freedom” came up on the screen. White on black. In capital letters. “We March on Barcelona on September 11th”.

September 11th was the Catalan National Day known as La Diada. This commemorated the abolition of all Catalan rights and freedoms when, after a fifteen-month siege Barcelona fell to the troops of the King of Castile, Felipe V, on September 11th 1714. For most of the time I’d been in Barcelona, La Diada had been little more than an excuse to wave Catalan senyera flags from the balcony and watch TV coverage of slightly tedious ceremonial events and sentimental patriotic speeches by local dignitaries.

The March towards Independence spot on TV in early September clearly announced that something was in the air, but thinking back to the summer of 2012, the subject of independence had been on everybody’s lips for some time.

The Indignats movement of peaceful demonstrations against the economic crisis had fizzled out a year earlier and then Mariano Rajoy’s anti-Catalan Partido Popular had won a comfortable majority in Congress in the Spanish General Elections of November 2011. Badly hit by the crisis, Catalans began looking around for ways to improve the situation without permission from Madrid.

Unbeknown to most of us, in early March 2012, an organisation had been created to coordinate and promote the growing calls for independence for Catalonia. Its name, Assemblea Nacional Catalana, was chosen to echo the Assemblea de Catalunya, the organisation that had coordinated protests against Franco at the end of the dictatorship, and like its predecessor ANC members came from all shades of the political spectrum.

Alongside the Assemblea stood Òmnium Cultural, the organisation founded to defend Catalan culture and language at the height of Francoist repression. Two of the unknown faces in The Bull’s Hide video were Carme Forcadell and Muriel Casals, presidents of the Assemblea Nacional Catalana and Òmnium Cultural respectively. Social, economic, cultural and linguistic reasons for independence from Spain were well-covered by the incipient movement.

As the big day approached the sense of expectation increased. By the evening of September 10th everyone knew that the Diada would be a historic event no one could predict quite how historic and emotional the day would turn out to be.

I live about 15 minutes walk from Plaça de Catalunya, the centre of Barcelona. On the morning of September 11th, the streets of the Eixample, were bright and sunny. Catalan flags fluttered from the balconies along Carrer Mallorca. There were plenty of traditional senyeras with their four red stripes on a yellow background. In fact, I’d spent part of the previous evening struggling to attach a 15-metre-long Catalan senyera to the outside of our building.

This year there were many more esteladas, though. This senyera with a blue triangle and a white star at one end harks back to the independence flag of the former Spanish colony of Cuba and is a symbolic call for Catalan independence from Spain.

Occasional tourists were making their way along Mallorca in the direction of Gaudí’s Sagrada Familia but even this early in the morning, they had been joined by another kind of visitor – out of town Catalans, who had come to Barcelona for the big event. A little after nine, I went down to the bar for breakfast and there were already a couple of coaches parked along the street.

A group of country Catalans had already occupied the tables on the terrace so I went inside and sat down with a copy of La Vanguardia newspaper. The headline read “A Diada That Looks Towards Europe”, echoing the demonstration’s slogan Catalunya, Nou Estat d’Europa – Catalonia, New European State. Six months ahead of schedule, FC Barcelona had announced that the 2013-14 season’s away kit would be the red and yellow stripes of the senyera. It seemed everyone was jumping on the Catalanist bandwagon.

In typically relaxed Mediterranean style, the march was planned to start sometime after lunch and would work its way from La Diagonal down Passeig de Gràcia. Rather than stopping at Plaça de Catalunya as most Barcelona demonstrations do, it would veer off to the left along Gran Via before it got to the main square and then make its way down Via Laietana along Marquès de l’Argentera. The end point would be a rally at 6 pm outside the Catalan Parliament in Parc de la Ciutadella, the site of the hated citadel built by Castilian military engineers in order to subjugate the Catalan people following the fall of Barcelona in 1714, a fittingly symbolic end point.

The main article briefly gave the background to the pro-independence aspirations of the Assemblea Nacional Catalana and mentioned that many Catalan politicians who were definitely not in favour of independence for Catalonia felt obliged to attend the demonstration. The principal discussion point, though, was Catalan President Artur Mas’s official Diada speech that he had given the previous evening.

As President of all Catalans, not just those in favour of independence, Artur Mas would not be attending the demonstration but reminded the Catalan people that “Your protests are mine”. Diplomatically, he avoided use of the word independence, preferring expressions such as sovereignty and fulfilment of national ambitions whilst reiterating that his government’s main objective was to reach an agreement with the Spanish central government, known as the fiscal pact, whereby Catalonia would have control of his own taxes in the same way as Navarre and the Basque Country do.

“It is totally clear that Catalonia’s legitimate national aspirations are inseparable from the wellbeing of its citizens. For this reason, fiscal sovereignty is at the same time an act of national affirmation and social affirmation to the extent that those who suffer through not having it are individual and specific people with Christian names and surnames. We aspire to more as a nation because we aspire to more as a society.”

I closed the paper and paid up. As I left another group of Catalans with estelada flags draped around their shoulders entered the bar. By now the street was lined with coaches and the pavements were beginning to fill up with people in festive spirit.

Back at the flat, the television was on and the official Diada ceremonies in Parc de la Ciutadella. Muriel Casals, the President of Òmnium Cultural, who alongside the Christian charity Caritas had been awarded a Medal of Honour by the Parliament of Catalonia was being interviewed on the importance of the day’s events for Catalonia, a country in the process of being built. Cameras cut to the traditional floral offerings at the Monument of Rafael Casanova, the First Minister of the Generalitat during the Siege of Barcelona in 1714.

Back in the Parc, Catalan politicians and dignitaries began to arrive for the ceremony on the main stage, which backed on to the lake. Representatives of the central Spanish government, who normally made an appearance out of courtesy, were conspicuous by their absence. A Sardana cobla band played traditional Catalan music as the local police, the Mossos d’Esquadra, paraded in 18th century uniform. In proper countries, the army go on parade on the national day. In Catalonia, it’s the police and choirs and people reading poetry rounded off with the building of some human castles. It’s a strange place, Catalonia.

The morning moved on and the streets outside filled up with people, young, old and in-between. I put chickens in the oven to roast and potatoes in to bake. Given our proximity to the city centre, our flat is always a meeting and stopping off point for friends and acquaintances. The troops needed feeding. I just hoped they’d bring enough liquid refreshment.

By the time our friends arrived sometime after 2 o’clock the street outside was a sea of yellow and red. Shouts of “In-inde-independència” drifted in through the open window. Groups of teenagers banged drums and I could hear the reedy strains of traditional Catalan gralla wind instruments playing ‘We Are The Champions’ in the distance.

About ten of us sat down to a picnic lunch and the mood was exuberant. We talked of independence as if would happen like magic the next day. Somebody commented that Catalan independence used to be the subject of family dinners on New Year’s Day. It was brought out, dusted, briefly discussed and then put away until the following year. This time the subject wasn’t going to go away so easily.

We made our way down to street at around four thirty. The idea was to try to get to the main procession about 10 minutes away on Passeig de Gràcia but there were so many people that it was impossible to even think about turning right into Mallorca. Shuffling along at a snail’s pace, we tried to make our way down Carrer Bruc.

Parents, grandparents, children, aunts and uncles, people of all ages moved along like a slow-flowing human river. Catalan flags of all sizes, esteladas and senyeras, were waved above our heads. A group of teenagers improvised a castell, a Catalan human castle, off to our right. “Molt bé, nen” came the shouts of approval in Catalan. “Olé, chiquillo” came the shouts of approval in Spanish.

After about an hour and a half, we were still only down as far as Carrer Aragó. Most of the group were set on get to the front of the procession. I just wanted to enjoy the celebration.

I was wearing my UE Sant Andreu first team football shirt with its senyera design emblazoned on my chest and was getting plenty of slaps on the back and shouts of “Sant Andreu! Oe! Oe!” I was befriended by a group of CE Europa fans from nearby Gràcia and we made a beeline for the nearest bar. Packed in shoulder to shoulder, we drank and sang until the beer ran out a couple of hours later. I made my way back up the street making another beer stop on the way.

I got back home around 9.30 and the flat was full of revellers. The TV was blasting out the end of demonstration rally. A soul singer sang “We Shall Overcome” in Catalan. Independence messages were read out in different languages. The massive crowd outside the Parc de la Ciutadella shouted “In-inde-independència!”

The coverage cut to inside the Parliament of Catalonia building, where the leaders of the Assemblea Nacional Catalana, Òmnium Cultural and the Associació de Municipis per la Independència were being officially received. Carme Forcadell insisted that the President of the Generalitat should “begin secession from a state that doesn’t accept us how we are or how we want to be”. She demanded “the first firm steps be taken on the road to independence because the Catalan people cannot wait”.

Figures came in that 1.5 million people had attended the biggest demonstration in the history of Europe. Catalonia would never be the same again.

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