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30 de gen. 2016


New Government in Catalonia Looks to Speed up Secession From Spain 


JANUARY 11, 2016, 4:58 AM EST 

The pressure is now on the national politicians to form a government in Madrid. 

On Sunday night, after more than two months of failed negotiations, bitter public recriminations, and a supposed do-or-die vote that ended in a 1,515-1,515 tie, the two secessionist parties in the parliament in the Spanish region of Catalonia managed what seemed impossible only days before: they agreed on a new prime minister and, just two hours before hitting the midnight deadline that would have forced new elections, formed a government. 

“The [independence] process is saved. The Parliament will begin to function immediately,” Artur Mas, the outgoing Catalan Prime Minister, said when the preliminary agreement was reached on Saturday evening. 

And with that, the already unstable Spanish political situation got even more complicated.

In Sept. 27 regional elections, the two pro-independence groups—the anti-capitalist leftist party Candidatura d’Unitat Popular (CUP), and Junts pel Sí (Together for the Yes, or JxSí), a coalition of center-right, center-left, and civil society groups—won a majority of 72 out of 135 parliamentary seats with about 48% of the vote. 

But the two quickly deadlocked over who would be prime minister, as the CUP refused to support another term for Artur Mas, who pushed austerity policies during Spain’s economic crisis and who heads a political party (Convergència Democràtica de Catalunya, or CDC) that is the focus of multiple corruption investigations. Mas, in turn, refused to back down.

On Saturday afternoon, however, the groups reached an agreement: Mas, 59, would step aside and be replaced by Carles Puigdemont, 53, the mayor of the Catalan city of Girona. In return, the CUP agreed to vote for Puigdemont and declared that it would not vote against JxSí in any situation where parliamentary “stability” was at stake. 

“Next stop, Independence!” Oriol Junqueras, the leader of the Esquerra Republicana de Catalunya (Republican Catalan Left) party, which forms part of JxSí, tweeted minutes later. 


Spain's Catalonia Secession Drama Is About to Get a Lot Worse

It didn’t have to be this way.

After the 1975 death of dictator General Francisco Franco, the birth of Spain’s democracy was midwifed by the Pacto del olvido—the Pact of Forgetting.

In what Omar Encarnación, the director of the political studies program at Bard College, calls “Democracy Without Justice,” political leaders both left and right informally agreed to move forward by ignoring the atrocities committed during and after Spain’s Civil War. A comprehensive amnesty law was passed; there would be no truth and reconciliation committees, no wrestling with the past.

This willing refusal to look in the rearview had gone a long way to help Spain build a vibrant democracy and modern society in the ensuing 40 years. But it has also saddled Spain’s political class with an unfortunate unwillingness to address problems directly.

The challenges of this willful ignorance became clear when two secessionist parties in the wealthy region of Catalonia formed a government over the weekend, just hours before a deadline would have sent the region to new elections. Immediately, pressure heightened on lawmakers in Madrid—who have been bickering since December elections left the country without a ruling party or coalition—to form a national government and deal with Catalonia.

Until the two opposing Catalan pro-independence parties came to their unlikely eleventh-hour agreement, it seemed like the national parties might be able to again join in a pacto del olvido. The odds had been that Catalonia would go to new elections and that support for the secessionist parties would recede.

If that happened, the thinking went, the future would be clear. Afraid to face new elections amid his own declining support, Pedro Sánchez, the leader of the center-left PSOE party—the second group in parliament with 90 of the 350 seats—would feel obliged to tragarse el sapo (make a painful decision; literally, “swallow the frog”) and allow the re-election of current Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy of the arch-rival center-right Partido Popular (PP), which controls 123 seats. And Spain would return to its regular programming.

The deal in Catalonia has killed that potential scenario.

Now, the independence movement in Catalonia does not have majority support. In September regional elections, the two secessionist groups received just short of 48% of the vote (or, viewed more broadly, the support of 36% of the electorate). That’s not enough to claim a mandate for secession. But because of election rules, the parties received 72 of the 135 seats in Catalonia’s parliament. With seats in hand and no government in Madrid, the opportunity was too good to let percentages stand in the way. And so, on Sunday evening, new Catalan Prime Minister Carles Puigdemont declared that his government was embarking on an 18-month roadmap to a Catalan republic.

It didn’t have to be this way.

Tensions have risen in recent years in part because Prime Minister Rajoy and the PP have exhibited a mix of antipathy towards the regional government and an almost pathological inability to address the Catalan issue openly. When the region negotiated an autonomy statute with the government of Prime Minister Zapatero in 2006, Rajoy and his party responded by appealing—successfully—to have Spain’s Constitutional Court strike down large parts of it. He did the same when the Catalan government tried to hold a regional referendum-opinion poll on independence in 2014.

These moves made Rajoy’s later suggestion that the Catalan government should stop complaining and seek more autonomy through constitutional reform—which would have required support from the PP—seem disingenuous, to put it mildly.

Rajoy’s strategy has inflamed tensions. While, by all measurements, most Catalans do not support secession, a clear majority wants more regional autonomy and the right to be heard. As a Catalan friend — who is no fan of secession — asked me recently, “Why are they so afraid of a referendum?”

Faced with the increasing possibility of a political train wreck, Spanish intellectuals have floated solutions. Political scientist Ignacio Sánchez-Cuenca, a professor at Madrid’s Carlos III University, has pushed for a two-step process of constitutional reform, then referendum.

First, Spain’s Parliament would negotiate a constitutional reform that would give more powers to the nation’s regions, and Spanish voters as a whole would vote on it. If the reform passed nationally and in Catalonia, the issue would be considered closed. But if the reform failed, or if it passed nationally but a majority of Catalans voted against it, Catalonia would go to the polls and vote on a binding referendum with a clear question (in or out), a high threshold (half the electorate, as a proxy for a true majority), and limited repeatability (no sooner than 10 years).

While this may seem logical, it does not benefit those who are currently in power. The PP appeals to its core conservative supporters as a defender of national sovereignty. And the best, albeit small, chance that Catalan secession parties have for independence lies not in negotiation but in taking provocative steps—by creating an independent tax authority, for example—that could inspire the central government to respond with heavy-handed measures, such as eliminating the region’s self-government powers, that might move the international community to get involved.

There are obstacles beyond the political. Constitutional reform requires an ample majority in both the Parliament and the Senate, which means that the PP would have to be somehow convinced, however grudgingly, to let it pass. But it is worth the effort. While another 18 months of inflexible standoff probably won’t lead to independence for Catalonia, it will almost certainly lead to more bitterness, recrimination, and pain.



Farewell to Catalonia? Spain Confronts a Rebellious[1] Region 

Omar G. Encarnación 

In mid-January, Catalonia inaugurated a new government that promised to bring independence to this fiercely [2] separatist region of 7.5 million people sandwiched between Spain and France. Perhaps only the Basque Country, where separatist politics are intermingled with violence, terrorism, and even racism (Basque nationalism is rooted in the idea that the Basques are a separate race[3]), matches Catalonia’s desire for nationhood among the regions of Spain, and maybe in all of Europe[4]. Ironically, although the Basque independence struggle is the one that usually captures international headlines, the Catalans have the stronger historical claim for statehood. Catalan nationalism [5] dates to the Middle Ages, when the region existed as the Principality of Catalonia, before it was engulfed [6] into the Kingdom of Aragon and later into the Kingdom of Spain, when the crowns of Aragon and Castile were united [7] in the fifteenth century. Basque separatism, by contrast, dates only to the late nineteenth century, when the Basque nationalist movement was founded, although Basque nationalists tend to dispute this view by tying the contemporary Basque nationalist movement to the fueros, rights and privileges granted by the Spanish monarch to the Basque people going back to feudal times.

For Catalonia’s newly inaugurated government, the stakes could not be higher. It is likely now or never for the proponents of Catalan independence. For the first time since Spain became a democracy in 1978, after four decades of dictatorship under the regime of Generalissimo Francisco Franco (a regime so profoundly antiregional[8] that it banned all symbols of Catalan culture, such as the Catalan language and flag), a political movement laser-focused on independence has won the majority of seats in the Catalan parliament. Junts pel Sí (Together for Yes), a coalition of Catalan parties supportive of independence, won last September’s Catalan regional elections. Upon assuming power, Catalonia’s new premier, Carles Puigdemont, announced plans for the creation of the Republic of Catalonia within 18 months. To underscore the seriousness of his intentions, Puigdemont, in open defiance of tradition and the law[9], did not pledge loyalty to the Spanish constitution or the Spanish crown. Adding insult to injury, the portrait of King Felipe, which hangs in the chamber where Puigdemont’s swearing-in took place, was covered with a veil during the ceremony[10].

For the central administration in Madrid, the standoff with Catalonia, which accounts for 20 percent of Spain’s economic activity and represents about the same percentage of the Spanish population
[11], could not have come at a worse time. Spain is politically deadlocked after the inconclusive results of the December 20 national elections, which generated a fragmented parliament. Neither of the two parties that have ruled Spain for decades won a sufficient number of parliamentary seats to form a government without needing alliances with other political parties. Led by incumbent Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy, the conservative Popular Party (PP) won 28.7 percent of the vote to emerge as the winner, and the Spanish Socialist Workers’ Party (PSOE) won 22 percent of the vote, enough to become[12] the second most important party in the new parliament. Together, two new upstarts, the left-wing Podemos (We Can) and the center-right Cuidadanos (Citizens), got a third of the vote, a testament to the dissatisfaction of the electorate with the traditional parties. The PP and PSOE’s share of the electorate fell from 80 percent in 2011 to 50 percent in 2015.

Two options for a coalition government in Spain — which would be the first government of this kind for the country since the tumultuous Second Republic, the interwar regime that ushered in the Spanish Civil War — are generating the most buzz. The first one is a grand right-left coalition between traditional opponents PP and PSOE. It would be modeled on Germany’s current government, which incorporates former rivals Christian Democrats and Social Democrats. The second option is a leftist “coalition of the losers”, similar to the one currently in power in Portugal, encompassing the PSOE, Podemos, and Izquierda Unida (United Left), an assortment of left-wing parties including the once mighty
[13] Spanish Communist Party and the Verdes (Greens). If neither option materializes, Rajoy will be forced to call new elections. Polls suggest that the majority of Spaniards want the parties to agree to a coalition rather than to holding a new election.


As might be expected, all the talk of independence in Catalonia brings to mind last year’s epic struggle for independence in Scotland. Despite the heartbreaking outcome for Scottish ationalists, Scotland’s independence referendum is the source of inspiration for the Catalans
[14]. Yet there are many compelling reasons to believe that the Catalans face a considerably steeper struggle for independence than the Scots ever did. For one thing, a legally binding referendum, the main vehicle to potential independence for Scotland, is not a realistic option for Catalonia. Madrid has at its disposal a large arsenal of tools to block any referendum on Catalan independence, including, most notably, the Spanish constitution, which explicitly forbids any region in Spain from exercising self-determination. 

Indeed, last fall, the Constitutional Tribunal, Spain’s highest court, ruled that any unilateral move by Catalonia toward independence would be unconstitutional. In making this determination, the tribunal relied on section two of the constitution, which asserts that the Spanish national territory is “indivisible” while acknowledging the right to regional self-governance. Since the transition to democracy, this concession has opened the way for the growth of regional home rule, especially in the so-called historic regions — Catalonia, the Basque Country, and Galicia — which had secured an autonomy arrangement (or were in the process of securing one, as in the case of Galicia) from the central government in Madrid during the Second Republic. Franco abrogated these agreements at the end of the Civil War in 1939[15].

Madrid can also block an independence vote in Catalonia by working through the national parliament
[16], which would have to approve any referendum on independence in Catalonia or any other region. There is a history[17] of Spanish political administrations, from both the left and the right, using the parliament to block separatist movements. During the middle of the first decade of the 2000s, the socialist administration of Prime Minister José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero used a series of parliamentary votes to derail a drive for independence[18] in the Basque Country. Last fall, the Rajoy administration secured a vote in the parliament declaring any Catalan referendum illegal and nonbinding[19]. That vote enjoyed the support of all the political parties represented in the parliament, save for the Basque and Catalan nationalist ones.

Additionally, the central government in Madrid could always force Catalonia into abandoning its independence ambitions. It could financially starve the regional government by, among other things, moving state resources
[20] outside of Catalonia. It could move the national military into the region to intimidate the local government and secure pledges from foreign nations and the European Union not to recognize an independent Catalonia. If all else fails, Madrid could pick the nuclear option: canceling outright Catalonia’s regional self-governance charter, something permitted under the constitution[21]. Of course[22], no one in Spain expects the present standoff to come to any of this, but Rajoy has made it clear that he will use any means necessary to protect the integrity of the nation. “I will not allow anything that could harm the unity and sovereignty of Spain,” said Rajoy as the Catalans were about to vote in a new separatist leader.


A bigger obstacle to Catalan independence rests within the byzantine world of Catalan politics. The recent bitter fight for political control of the region, which nearly derailed the current effort for independence, broadly illustrates the point. In the Catalan 2015 regional elections, the separatist alliance, which comprises four different parties from both the right[24] and the left, fell short of a handful of parliamentary seats to form a government[25], forcing it into a pact with the Popular Unity Candidacy (CUP), a small, far-left party whose platform is so out of the political mainstream that it calls for Spain’s withdrawal from NATO and the European Union. The CUP is also at odds with the separatists’ mostly conservative economic program[26]

To entice support from the CUP, the separatists embraced some of the party’s economic program, such as assistance to those struggling to pay their mortgages. But even that did not do the trick. What the CUP wanted most was the resignation of Artur Mas as Catalonia’s top chief executive. Mas had led Catalonia since 2010 and had been expected to lead the independence struggle beyond 2015, but the CUP viewed him as corrupt, untrustworthy, and too cozy with the local and external actors that brought Spain to the brink of economic ruin in 2011. To prevent the CUP from walking away from the coalition, which would have triggered new elections, at the eleventh hour, the separatist alliance unceremoniously dumped Mas[27]. They[28] replaced him with Puigdemont, at the time the mayor of Girona, a city north of Barcelona that is generally regarded[29] as the most separatist of Catalan cities, who had no experience in dealing with Madrid[30]

The drama over the leadership of the Catalan government reveals broader instability within the coalition, since its various members often[31] work at cross-purposes. Indeed, the alliance hangs together by a thread[32]. In the vote that brought Puigdemont to power, 70 were in favor, 63 were against, and two abstained. Moreover, Puigdemont is an independence hard-liner, quite in contrast with the pragmatist Mas. This might do more harm than good since it is not a foregone conclusion that the majority of Catalans favor independence. Polls show that the majority of Catalans wish to remain part of Spain, although they favor greater autonomy[33]. So, as the separatists are the first to admit, any successful effort toward independence hinges on persuading those currently sitting on the fence[34]. Puigdemont’s tactics, such as the disrespect shown for the crown at his swearing-in ceremony, could well serve to undermine that effort[35]

Podemos and Ciudadanos, the new stars in the Spanish political firmament, add another layer of complexity and unpredictability to Catalan politics. These parties channel the anticorruption movement that has rocked Spain’s political establishment, including the Catalan nationalist movement, since the financial crisis. Jordi Pujol, the father of Catalan nationalism in the post-Franco era (he and his Convergence and Union coalition ruled Catalonia from 1980 to 2003 and often worked with the national parties in Madrid to expand regional autonomy), recently admitted to hiding millions of euros in offshore accounts after prior denials that such accounts existed[36]. Both newcomers are power players in Catalan politics: Podemos controls[37] electorally rich Barcelona, Catalonia’s glittering capital city, and Ciudadanos is the second political force in the Catalan parliament (after the separatists), where it controls 25 seats. Neither party is an advocate of Catalan independence. 

The Madrid-based Podemos is committed only to supporting a referendum on Catalan independence, not to independence itself. This support will likely be sacrificed on the altar of political expediency should Podemos join the PSOE to form a new government in Madrid. Ciudadanos, which is based in Barcelona, actually opposes independence for Catalonia. This stance, alongside the party’s center-right political profile, makes it an ideal force to join in a government led by either the PP or the PSOE. Ciudadanos’ potential for playing the role of power broker on the national political stage was demonstrated at the reopening of the Spanish parliament on January 11. The party joined the PSOE in a pact to elect Patxi López, an old socialist hand who served as the president of the Basque Country from 2009 to 2012, as the next Speaker. The PP abstained from putting forth its own candidate, implicitly supporting the PSOE-Ciudadanos Speaker’s pact. This is the first time since democracy was restored that the Speaker is not from the party in possession of the majority of parliamentary seats. 


Finally, Catalan independence seems unlikely because separatist battles in Spain have historically been driven less by the desire for independence than by the more realistic goal[38] of expanded autonomy — especially in Catalonia. During Pujol’s long reign at the helm of the Catalan government, Catalan politics was all about keeping the separatists at bay and securing the best autonomy deal from Madrid. Even though the current impasse between Madrid and Catalonia can be traced to the enactment in 2006 of the Nou Estatut, or New Statute, a revamping of the Catalan autonomy charter that referred to Catalonia as “a nation,”[39] it was the reluctance[40] of the Rajoy administration to accommodate the Catalans’ request for greater control over their finances that brought the current crisis to a boiling point[41]

If anything, the constant drive for autonomy is fed by the imperfections and shortcomings of Spain’s existing system of autonomous governments. When the system was set up, following Franco’s death, the country struck an exquisitely[42] ambiguous constitutional compromise between the regions demanding autonomy, led by the Basque Country and Catalonia, and a central administration that, still imbued with Francoist visions of a culturally homogenous Spain, was fiercely opposed to federalism. At the heart of the compromise was that Spain would retain its traditional structure of a unitary state (the 1978 constitution studiously avoids the term “federalism”) but that the regions would be entitled to individually petition autonomy from the central government, a process concluded in 1981 with the creation of a system of 17 autonomous regions[43]. Cementing the compromise was a long history of failed attempts to decentralize Spain. In the nineteenth century and during the Second Republic, this effort led to civil wars. After Franco, a similar outcome seemed likely[44]. The granting of autonomy to the Catalans and the Basques triggered an aborted military coup in February 1981, the most serious threat to Spanish democracy since Franco’s passing. 

Spain’s piecemeal decentralization has resulted in a process that is dictated more by politics than by logic, with each region having its own autonomy charter with the central government and its own range of regional powers. Thus, certain regions, especially the Basque Country, enjoy an extraordinary level of autonomy, which they have secured over the years by coercing and even bribing the central government[45]. For instance, alone among the regions, the Basques are allowed to collect and administer their own taxes. The majority, including Andalusia, Spain’s most populous region, have limited autonomy and are administered by Madrid like colonial possessions[46]. This asymmetry in autonomy among the various regions encourages constant bargaining with the state for greater autonomy as well as confrontational stances between regional leaders and Madrid, with regional leaders often acting as victims of an oppressive central government. From this perspective, the recent eruption[47] of separatist demands in Catalonia is hardly unexpected. In fact, it is what Spaniards have come to expect. 


A full jump to federalism, which would allow each region in Spain significant administrative responsibilities and the same level of autonomy[49] from the central government, makes the most sense for the country, especially now that the ghosts of civil war and the Franco dictatorship have been fully exorcised. But major obstacles stand in the way. For one thing, the constitution will need to be amended[50] before a federal structure can be imposed. Since 1978, this has happened only twice: to allow EU citizens the right to participate in local elections and to introduce a cap on the public deficit. Moreover, there is a dearth of political will by the major political parties to pursue federalism. The PP, which barely tolerates the current system of regional autonomies, will do everything in its power to stop any attempt at federalization, which it views as one step closer to the disintegration of Spain. Although a historic advocate of federalism, the PSOE has taken no steps to push for it in the many years it has ruled the country in the post-Franco years. 

Oddly enough, in the topsy-turvy world of Spanish separatist politics, the biggest obstacles to federalism are the regions themselves. In 1982, when the socialist administration of Felipe González Márquez[51] tried to even out the differences in autonomy among the regions, with the Law on the Harmonization of the Autonomy Process, the Catalan and the Basque governments took the central government to court, arguing that equality in autonomy among the regions would violate their constitutional status as “historic” regions. They reasoned that if every region in Spain had the same level of autonomy, their uniqueness would be rendered unrecognizable. The Constitutional Tribunal apparently agreed with this reasoning, allowing unequal autonomy to persist and actually increase in subsequent years[52]

But the time has come for Spanish regional and national leaders to rethink their aversion to federalism, since it is clear that the current system of regional autonomies, although a useful arrangement for getting the nation out of the Franco dictatorship and through the post-transition years, no longer serves the regions or the central state. In fact, as the current standoff in Catalonia suggests, it undermines both. 

See also

JAN 27, 2016
How Catalonia is the key to Spain's current political deadlock, by Adrià Alsina and Krystyna Schreiber 

SEP 11, 2014
The View from Catalonia: The Ins and Outs of the Independence Movement
Carles Boix and J.C. Major

13 de gen. 2016


In defence of Carles Rahola and Carles Puigdemont
Ignasi Aragay

I was moved on re-reading, at a single sitting, "Carles Rahola, afusellat" (Carles Rahola, executed), a book by Josep Benet, published in 1999.

I was saddened and angered at Franco's unjust decision, on 15 March 1939, to have that good man shot, and at the ignominious use that some media and some politicians have now made of his memory. How dare they? Do they really know who Carles Rahola was, what he thought, what he did? Democracy cannot be defended with lies and forgetfulness. Democracy cannot be defended by distorting the figure of a peaceful, democratic and deeply human civic example of tolerance, as many letting figues have left testimony, from Tomàs Garcés to Josep Pla, or as corroborated by the failed efforts by conspicuous Franco supporter who tried to prevent his supposedly legal murder, such as historian Fernando Valls Taberner and soldier Antonio Correa Véglison (at that moment civil governor of Girona), Miquel Mateu i Pla (mayor of Barcelona at the time) or bishop Josep Cartañà.
To no avail: the Caudillo signed the order.  In a farcical court martial, with no legal guarantee, the fact that Carles Rahola had helped save priests during the war years was ignored. He was sentenced to death for something he was not: a "separatist". One of the pieces of the incriminating evidence was an article that has now been used to brutally attack the new president of the Generalitat, Carles Puigdemont, a man who loves Girona and Catalonia, just like Rahola.

He was a leftist, Republican catalanist, a profoundly believer, a man of letters and a family man who never belonged to any party, and above all an excellent person . Even the president of the military court, in an unusual gesture for that time, he disagreed with the conviction, with a dissenting vote.

He was a member of the Royal Academy of History in Madrid and the Royal Academy of Literature in Barcelona, overwhelmed by the revolution and war, in those years of war Rahola had virtually stopped writing in the press. He had been buried himself in his work, his files, in his home. Given his spirit of concord and peace, everything had been shaken up. He only published a few texts of historical dissemination, with just two exceptions.  
When in 1938 Franco's aviation, consisting mainly of Italian and German pilots, intensified their bombing he broke his silence to write against these barbaric acts. On 8 February 1938 he published in "L'Autònom", a Girona newspaper run by his brother Darius, the article "Shelters and gardens" in which he decried the renovar of a garden for children to make an air raid shelter. And on August 6 of the same year he wrote "Heroism", in which he used the prologue written years earliest for the translation of the homonymous work by Maeterlinck and in which, as explained by Josep Benet, he spoke of the heroic behaviour of the Belgian people in the face of the invasion of their country by the German armies during the First World War. The article ended with a brief reference to the peoples suffering from the war in Spain.
It read: "Using the same methods, the Germans, along with the Italians, are today engaged in the methodical, scientific and systematic destruction of Catalonia and other sister lands. And today, as yesterday, our hope is firm and fervent. The invaders will be expelled from Catalonia, as they were from the peaceful Belgium, and our land will, under the Republic, once again, in work in peace, bé master of its freedom and its destiny." Puigdemont has now been reproached for the last sentence of this quote, taken quite out of context. Is any comment required? The two articles were the main pieces of evidence used to get Rahola executed.

In 1934 Rahola had published a historical monograph on the death penalty in Girona in the 18th and 19th centuries . It ended as follows: "It is to be hoped, on the grounds of humanity and with a Christian spirit [...] , that the gallows will never again be erected in the august space of the noble and beloved Girona." Two years later there were executions once again (three soldiers accused of having taken part in the Franco uprising). During the war the Republicans executed 15 more. At the beginning of the dictatorship executions soared. They peaked at 69 in a single day.

Hours before his execution, on death row, Rahola, 58, wrote to his family: "My dearest Rosa, my beloved children, Ferran, Maria and Carolina: I take leave of you for eternity. You all know how pure and bright my life has been; you all know how honestly I have lived; how I have worked with faith; how intensely I have loved you. I go towards the afterlife, quietly and serenely. [...] I do not leave any enemy in this land, in the beatiful Catalonia that I loved, in my beloved Girona, nor outside it."
Let us show respect for this great man.

7 de gen. 2016

Ens és igual

"Ens neguem a reduir el debat a quina mena de president investirem, és a dir, ens sembla absolutament ridícul i ens sembla absolutament esperpèntic que alguns vulguin reduir el moment polític històric d'aquest país a qui serà el proper president.

El proper president que necessita aquest país és el president que vulgui declarar la independència.

Ens és igual com es digui."