The English, American and French revolutions of the 17th and 18th centuries were marked by a decisive change in the political relations between institutions of power and the people. The establishment of written constitutions, of lists of rights and freedoms, as well as techniques for limiting power --separation of powers, the rule of law, competitive elections (in their cases, federalism)-- formed the nucleus of what would later develop into the democratic and social states based on the rule of law of the 20th and 21st centuries. It was a series of emancipatory changes that turned the former subjects of European monarchies into citizens-- in the American case by means of a war of secession from the British crown.
The modern concept of citizenship was installed, then, at the heart of the political legitimacy of liberal-democratic systems. Moreover, nationalism emerged in tandem with the concept of citizenship. The French and American Revolutions consolidated the idea of a "nation of citizens". The expression "We the People" usually refers to citizens of specific states. In fact, states have continued to be nationalist agencies throughout modern times. All states are nationalistic, a fact that brings with it lights and shadows with respect to emancipation when the societies in question are much more pluralistic that those which the traditional liberal, democratic, and socialist conceptions suppose.
In the case of multi-national societies, the emancipatory lights of classic democratic liberalism are accompanied by the shadow of a willingness to accept cultural homogenization and national uniformity on the part of the state institutions. A willingness that in practice goes against key aspects of the emancipation of citizens with different national and cultural traits than those of the majority. The United States and France present aspects that have not been exactly praiseworthy in regards to their treatment of ethnic, national or cultural minorities during the past 225 years.
The states ruled by law have been an indisputable achievement. But "progress" always involves costs, especially for the worst positioned people in society, whether defined in socioeconomic, national, or cultural (citizen groups that do not necessarily overlap) terms. This is a topic that has become important in political theory in the last three decades. Some people, however, appear not to have noticed.
Marguerite Yourcenar imagines in a magnificent way the rationally skeptical reflections of the Roman emperor Hadrian regarding the function and negative consequences that laws sometimes have: "I have to confess --says Hadrian-- that I don't believe in laws very much. If they are too harsh, they are violated with reason. If they are too complicated, human ingenuity will easily find a way to slip between the walls of this fragile web. (...) The most remote participate in the savagery that they struggle to correct, the most venerated continue to be the result of force (...). They change more slowly than customs, and are dangerous when left behind by the latter, even more so when they try to precede them" (M. Yourcenar, Memoirs of Hadrian).
In the specific case of the Spanish legal state, the disappointment is constant and permanent. It is a "rule of law" in which the absence of a real separation of powers repeatedly shows itself, in which the theoretical arbiter --the Constitutional Court-- is presided over by a member of the ruling party. It is a state of law in which the index of corruption of the main political parties is very high in comparison with other democracies, in which false and defamatory political and journalistic accusations
go unpunished, in which there is constant lack of compliance by the central government with regards to previously agreed upon pacts and commitments, and in which tax fraud is double the European average, etc. The Spanish state of law is very outdated in liberal-democratic terms. It is a state of tort law.
All of this is enlivened with cases as edifying as those of Bankia, Castor (I believe that the people should refuse to pay the compensation to this company), or the statements of some political leaders who show a proven analytical depth and great historical knowledge when they claim, unapologetically and with a firmness due a better cause, that "Spain is the oldest nation in Europe" (as Joan Culla reminded us recently), or that "the State of the autonomous regions is the most decentralized in the world". These are ridiculous assertions, the kind that you would expect from students who fail their exams time and again, which make foreign academics who know the reality of the country split their sides laughing.
Having to continue being inserted coercively into the Spanish state is frankly very annoying. Spanish liberal-democratic history is a sad history. Sad and convulsively authoritarian. Still stained today by pre-democratic attitudes and styles, both in words and deeds. Shadows within shadows. As long as things don't change radically, the costs of dependence (of non-independence) are and will continue to be very high for the majority of Catalan citizens. It is difficult --practically impossible around the world-- for many citizens to take to heart a Constitution that is systematically interpreted against the reality and aspirations of the majority of a national entity, and where State institutions systematically show an affinity for economic suffocation, recentralization of powers, discriminatory budgetary and infrastructure distributions, a lack of recognition for national and linguistic diversity, etc.
In the coming months it will be necessary to develop three things: 1) a lot of rationality on the part of the political and social leadership of the current political process, 2) an intense policy of internationalization, and 3) the continued intensity and exemplary nature of the grassroots mobilization that has taken place up to now. 2015 could be a key year. For today's Catalans and tomorrow's.
