@Joan Barrera

English:

The heirs of the transition: the pro-independence parties that have lived off Spanish charity and betrayed national freedom

The Spanish Transition of 1978, this supposed democratic miracle that some still venerate as an altar, was in reality a pact of silence about the closed wounds of Francoism. In the midst of that theater of reconciliation, parties that called themselves pro-independence were legalized, such as the Socialist Party of National Liberation (PSAN) on September 10, 1977, or precursors such as the National Front of Catalonia (FNC), which had already been operating clandestinely since the 1960s and helped to articulate the pro-independence space during the transition. These parties, or their direct heirs—the Republican Left of Catalonia (ERC), which was refounded in 1977 after its ban during Francoism and was officially legalized in August of that year despite its historical existence since the Second Republic; Together for Catalonia (heir of Convergència Democràtica de Catalunya, which embraced independence in 2012), and the Candidatura d'Unitat Popular (CUP)—were born or refounded under the shadow of the 1978 Constitution, accepting the rules of the Spanish game in exchange for public salaries, privileges and warm seats in Parliament. But all of this cannot be explained without the prophetic denunciation of Lluís Maria Xirinacs, who from the Assembly of Catalonia and as an independent senator cried out against the betrayal of the Catalan leaders, who abandoned the path of rupture for the reform agreed with Madrid, renouncing self-determination for a few alleys in the sun. Today, forty-seven years later, time has shown what Xirinacs already suspected: they are a gang of lifers who have parasitized the independence movement without advancing one step in national freedom. They should fold, and make way for new forces like Aliança Catalana, which, despite the hasty criticism, at least deserve a chance to demonstrate their commitment. Let's remember the facts more precisely. ERC, founded in 1931 during the Second Republic, was banned and dissolved after the Civil War, but survived in exile and underground. PSAN, legalized shortly before the Constitution, was a reference point for the Marxist independence left, with roots in the underground struggle against Franco since 1968. It inspired coalitions like Independentistes dels Països Catalans and influenced the sovereignty space, but ERC was not a direct heir; However, in 1977 it resolved its internal division and was officially legalized in August of that year, after being unable to run in the June elections due to its defense of the Republic and self-determination—it went into coalition as Esquerra de Catalunya and obtained one deputy. The FNC, another pillar, had already been active since 1960 and collaborated in the Conference of Independentist Organizations of November 1977, attempting to reorganize the sovereignty space. The CUP, for its part, was born much later, in 2001, as a synthesis of former far-left pro-independence groups, indirect heirs of those years of forced legalization: it is the culmination of the Popular Unity, a movement that dates back to the 1990s with the Vinaròs Process and the Assembly of Independentist Left Municipalities (AMEI), inspired by the radical left of the PSAN and the Moviment de Defensa de la Terra, but which did not become a structured party until the 2003 municipal elections. And Junts? It is the direct son of CiU, which Jordi Pujol refounded in 1974 as Convergència Democràtica de Catalunya (CDC), but which only jumped on the pro-independence bandwagon when it was convenient, after decades of managing autonomy as a family business. All of them, legalized or refounded under the 1978 regime, accepted the constitutional framework that denies self-determination, in exchange for public funding and immunity. They were the "good guys" of the State: money for campaigns, deputies with millionaire salaries and licenses to talk about sovereignty without doing it. And in this context, as Xirinacs points out in La traïció dels líders (1993-1997), the Catalan leaders —from Pujol to the Socialists— betrayed the popular hope of the Assembly of Catalonia, opting for integration into the State instead of the sovereignty-based rupture.Time, however, is a relentless judge. Since 2012, when the independence movement exploded with the Montjuïc referendum and the human chain of the Via Catalana, these parties promised paradise. They filled squares with millions of people, won absolute majorities in 2015 with Junts pel Sí, and proclaimed the republic in 2017. But what have we gained? Nothing, except a pile of ruins. On October 1, 2017, the referendum that should have been the definitive step, was a scandal of collective cowardice. While the Spanish police beat up pedestrians and volunteers —with 1,066 documented injuries—, the leaders of ERC and Junts looked at each other's fingers from their offices. Puigdemont, instead of firmly defending the ballot boxes, fled to Brussels, leaving behind a paralyzed government. ERC, with Oriol Junqueras at the helm, opted for "disobedience in dialogue", a euphemism for "agreed surrender". The CUP, which called itself the radical alternative, ended up voting in favour of Spanish budgets and making an agreement with the PSC on local issues. That day was not just a tactical defeat; it was the revelation of a political elite that prefers salaries to risks, exactly as Xirinacs denounced that the transition parties had abandoned the popular struggle for seats of power. And then? Even worse. The following years were a festival of betrayals. The 2023 amnesty, negotiated by Junqueras and Aragonès with Pedro Sánchez, released prisoners, yes, but in exchange for silence on independence. ERC entered the Spanish Government with ministries and commissions, placing its own in public companies of the State - a scandal that reveals how they have exchanged the republic for wallets. Together, since Puigdemont's symbolic exile, he has spent more time blackmailing Madrid than building a real alternative; his "leadership" of the pro-independence bloc in 2024 was a mirage, with only 35 seats and a growing dependence on the PSC. The CUP, diluted in its verbal anti-capitalism, has even lost its radicalism, ending up with 4 deputies and pacts with the local right to not disappear. Today, in 2025, the pro-independence bloc is a minority in Parliament —59 seats compared to the 86 of the PSC, PP and Vox—, and support for independence has fallen to 55% among its potential voters, according to the CEO. Where are we in terms of national freedom? Backwards, with a Spanish State that injects millions into surveillance against us and a Catalan Government that talks about "new Catalanism" instead of a republic. This action is not accidental; it is the fruit of a structural dependence. These parties live off public salaries: MPs with 80,000 euros a year, parties financed with millions from the State, and privileges such as official cars and advisors. They are lifers who criticize the "regime of 1978" while sucking its blood. And now, when Aliança Catalana appears —a new party, founded in 2020, that defends unilateral independence with firm policies against uncontrolled immigration and insecurity—, it attacks them without giving them time. "Extreme right!", they shout, as if they had not been the first to make a pact with the Spanish extreme right to stay in power. Aliança won Ripoll in 2023 with 30% of the vote and entered Parliament with 2 seats in 2024, defending a sovereign Catalonia that prioritizes Catalans. Personally, I have no idea how they will do it if they come to power — they may fail, like everyone else — but at least they haven't lived through decades of empty promises. What I do know is how this gang has done it: with inflammatory speeches to win votes and lukewarm negotiations to avoid losing privileges. They have left the process in a cul-de-sac, with independence movements in Quebec and Scotland advancing towards real referendums while we get entangled in dialogue tables that only serve to make a fool of ourselves. It's time for them to fold. The heirs of the transition have shown that their freedom is subordinate to salaries and pacts with Madrid, just as Xirinacs prophesied when he denounced that the transition was a scam that robbed Catalonia fiscally and culturally. They are leaving behind an exhausted movement, with a disillusioned young generation and a country still a prisoner. If they want coherence, they should hand over the baton to forces that, like Aliança Catalana, at least try to break the cycle. Otherwise, history will judge them not as leaders, but as opportunists who sold the national soul for a comfortable chair. Catalonia deserves more than this: it deserves action, not excuses.

@Roko

English:

Chronicle of an Illusory Possession, or of the Book One Has Without Having.

My dear reader,

Allow me to invite you to a brief reflection on these marvels of our century. I speak of those thin, luminous pages that promise us the world, or rather, all the worlds that the written word has ever conceived. The wisdom of Alexandria in the palm of our hand; what ambition! And how easily we surrender to it. The touch of a finger, an invisible snap, and behold, a new volume is added to our collection. We feel like patrons, bibliophiles of a new era.

The sensation, I tell you, is that of purchase, of possession, of dominion. But sensations, as we well know, are the most cunning of deceivers. Hidden in the fine print of a pact that no one reads—for haste is the currency of these days—lies a truth that is utterly uncomfortable: you did not buy the book, my friend. You rented, at most, the privilege of leafing through it on your screen.

While the polemic between the ancients and the moderns gets lost in petty squabbles about the aroma of paper or the cold convenience of glass, the heart of the drama goes unnoticed. I speak of possession, that right so dear to man. On your rosewood or pine bookshelf, you are the sovereign of your domains. Each volume there is a loyal subject. In the ethereal library of your device, however, you are nothing more than a tenant. And the landlord, a distant and faceless being, reserves the right to evict you at any whim.

From Invisible Shackles and Their Barbarous Name
The executioner of this servitude of ours goes by a barbaric word: DRM — Digital Rights Management. To a naive ear, it would sound like the fair management of the author's rights, and who among us does not value the work of the writer? In practice, however, it is quite different. It is a bolt, a mechanism of ironclad control over that for which you have already spent your money.

A paper book, that tangible object, brings with it a retinue of freedoms. You can lend it to a friend, a gesture that cements the strongest friendships; you can sell it to a second-hand bookstore, giving it new life and recovering some money; or you can, in a gesture of detachment, bequeath it to your descendants. The book, in short, is yours. However, this DRM thing annihilates these basic freedoms. Electronic books are not shared, not resold, not inherited. You remain captive in the digital fiefdom of the one who sold it to you, and your library, which you consider yours, truly belongs to the platform.

From the Specter in the Library, or the Book that Vanishes
The most astonishing corollary of this absence of ownership is impermanence. The digital work, which today adorns your collection, may tomorrow, by some remote whim, vanish into nothingness, without asking your permission. This is not conspiracy theory, but a true story, and an irony that would make fate itself smile. A few years ago, the large company that sells these devices—Amazon, to name a few—removed copies of "1984" and "Animal Farm" by the late Orwell from its customers' readers. Yes, the reader is not mistaken. The company, exercising power worthy of Big Brother, erased the work that precisely denounced totalitarian power. A trick that life, that old playwright, plays on us to remind us of its farcical nature.

The message was crystal clear: your library is not a sanctuary, but a service. Contract disputes, bankruptcy, a simple change in the terms of use can cause your intellectual and financial treasure to dissipate like smoke. Such a threat is unthinkable for the physical book. No corporation would dare enter your rooms to steal a volume from your shelf.

On the True Freedom to Read
The convenience of these modern e-readers, I confess, is undeniable. But the price we pay for it is our own autonomy. By accepting this licensing model, we relinquish a concept of ownership that, for centuries, has defined man's relationship with wisdom.

The choice of the paper book, therefore, is much more than sterile nostalgia. It is a declaration of principles. An act of resistance against these invisible fiefdoms that want to make us mere usufructuaries of knowledge. It is the affirmation that a work, once acquired, must belong, body and soul, to its reader.

So, the next time your finger itches to "buy with one click," ask yourself, dear reader: are you acquiring a perpetual asset or a revocable privilege? The answer, perhaps, will make you look with renewed appreciation at the old and faithful wooden bookshelf. There, each spine is a certainty. There, your library is, without a doubt, yours.