Peter II of Catalonia and the Canigou

Quin abast històric té el relat que apareix a la “Cronica Fratris Salimbene di Adam Ordinis Minorum” la qual en dona fe d’una hipotètica ascensió del rei En Pere II el Gran al cim del Canigó, l’any 1285? I quina relació hi ha entre aquesta narració i la revolta popular esdevinguda a Sicília la primavera de 1282, coneguda com les vespres sicilianes?

A finals del segle XIII, el vell frare franciscà Salimbene d’Adam o de Parma (1221-1290), reclòs en el monestir de Montefalcone (Itàlia), tot realitzant un acte de memòria, redacta les seves impressions personals sobre la seva atzarosa vida. No es tracta d’un cronista apocalíptic, sinó profètic. No proposa una visió tremendista del seu món, sinó que narra uns fets per a la seva posterior reflexió. La seva “Cronica Fratris Salimbene di Adam Ordinis Minorum” escrita entre 1283 i 1290, és una mica de tot: autobiogràfica, història de l’orde, història de les ciutats del nord d’Itàlia, crònica universal del temps de Frederic II Hohenstaufen “stupor mundi” o diari de viatges a França i Itàlia.  

L’origen del mite

La tardor del 1889, G. Uzielle publicava dins del “Bollettino” del Club Alpí Italià un extens article titulat: “Leonardo da Vinci e le Alpi”. Aquest treball estava complementat per tres apèndixs, el tercer dels quals responia al títol: “Ascensione di Pietro III d’Aragona al Canigou”. De fet, es tracta d’un fragment (pàg. 354 – 355 de la primera edició) de la cèlebre crònica d’en Salimbene d’Adam. 

La primera edició moderna de la crònica es va realitzar dins de l’obra “Monumenta Historica ad provincias Parmensem et Placentinensem pertinentia, III” (Parma, 1857). La segona edició, més completa i elegant, fou dirigida per Oswald Holder-Egger i la podem trobar al “Monumenta Germania Historica: Scriptores, llibre XXXII” (Hanover, 1906). Així doncs, la importància de Salimbene d’Adam pel Pirineisme es deu al foli 459 (pàg. 597 – 599 de la segona edició) que duu per nom: “Sobre la mort del rei Pere d’Aragó”.

El context en el qual apareix l’article d’Uzielle al “Bollettino” italià és el context en el qual s’està a punt de materialitzar la gran obra del Pirineisme escrita per Henri Beraldi: “Cent ans aux Pyrénées”. Amb l’edició d’aquesta magna obra —set volums en total— es comença a edificar el corpus de coneixements que posteriorment coneixerem com a Pirineisme el qual es tracta d’una barreja entre la pràctica esportiva combinada amb l’emoció estètica i cultural, sempre desenvolupada dins la serralada dels Pirineus. D’alguna manera, el Pirineisme va ser creat com l’antagònic a l’Alpinisme perquè aquest només representava la pràctica esportiva.  

Beraldi, com a bibliòfil empedreït, crea tot aquest món; rescata personatges del passat: De Carbonnières, Russell, Cadier, Passet, els enginyers geodèsics, Brulle o Lister, etc. Els grans mites de les grans gestes pirinenques hi són presents. Però la cosa no acaba aquí. Cap a 1911, Beraldi signa un article titulat “Tentative de Pierre III au Canigou”, publicat a “Le passé du Pyrénéisme”, on escriu: “Finalment, ens trobem davant d’un primer fet ben caracteritzat d’alpinisme. Pujar per pujar, per conquerir un cim. Tres anys després de les Vespres Sicilianes. Ascensió per Vallmanya o Taurinyà, ascensió dels Cortalets seguida fins al clot dels Estanyols, un lloc molt impressionant amb un temps fosc; sobrevinguda brusca d’una broma negra. Amb poques paraules, temptativa al Canigó el 1285.”

Així doncs, arran d’aquests dos articles i de posteriors treballs més actuals, la historiografia situa com a primera ascensió al cim d’una muntanya la protagonitzada pel rei En Pere II el Gran l’any 1285, al cim del Canigó. Com veurem, el foli 459 de la crònica de Salimbene d’Adam ha estat erròniament interpretat com a verídic, quan en realitat és un tractament metafòric de les disputes de poder entre dos reis —Pere de Catalunya i Carles d’Anjou— i dos territoris, Catalunya i França.

La tessitura a la qual Salimbene d’Adam escriu la seva crònica es realitza dins d’un context molt particular. I és per això que cal analitzar tot el text de la crònica amb rigor i contextualitzar el succés narrat dins d’ella amb la mentalitat social i política del segle XIII. La mirada del present cap al passat s’ha de fer amb ulls crítics perquè, si no ho fem, estem condemnats a deformar la realitat històrica.   

Per tant, tot el que estigui fora d’aquesta línia de treball —rigorositat i contextualització— genera un debat estèril. La principal tasca de l’historiador és crear coneixement i, per a fer-ho possible, no hem de desvincular els esdeveniments ni del seu espai ni del seu temps. Perquè això no succeeixi, tenim al nostre abast un conjunt d’eines —documents, cròniques, anals, cronologies, restes arqueològics, història oral— que ens ajudaran a apropar-nos amb la transparència possible a l’estudi del passat. Però això no acaba aquí. Així doncs, apareix la segona norma que hem de seguir: la lectura de la documentació. La simple lectura no ens porta enlloc, sinó tan sols a la distorsió històrica. Per tant, cal saber llegir entre línies. I aquest és l’error el qual es pretén reparar.

Una mirada rere la crònica

Per a comprendre el rerefons que amaga la crònica de Salimbene d’Adam sobre la narració del Canigó, hem de realitzar un doble esforç: per una banda, hem d’entendre el context sociopolític en la qual fou redactada la crònica i, per l’altre, hem d’analitzar pacientment els successos esdevinguts entre 1280 i 1285. Aquests cinc anys són la clau que ens permetrà desemmascarar el mite.     

El foli 459, apartat A, comença amb el significatiu títol: “De la mort de Pere, rei d’Aragó”. Malgrat aquest inici, Salimbene ja ens ho adverteix en el foli 445, apartat B, quan ens comenta: “Coneixent per avançat, que en menys d’un any, quatre il·lustres personatges, seran lliurades a la mort per voluntat de Déu, allí on es troba el sepulcre de tot vivent” seguit de “El primer serà el rei Carles, el segon el papa Martí, el tercer Felip, rei de França, el quart Pere, rei d’Aragó.” Així doncs, el rei En Pere d’Aragó (de Catalunya) serà la quarta persona rellevant del panorama polític internacional de l’època que passà a millor vida durant aquell any de 1285. 

Recordant el que s’escriu anteriorment, Salimbene comença el text dient-nos que “De la mateixa manera, en el present mil·lenni, durant la vetlla del beat Martí, Pere, rei d’Aragó, va tancar, va concloure amb la seva pròpia mort, el darrer dia; en aquest, el menor dels germans, el guardià que el va escoltar en confessió; fou enterrat a Vila-Nova, en el mateix lloc que els germans menors.” Efectivament, el rei En Pere II de Catalunya va morir la nit del 10 a l’11 de novembre de 1285 —diada de Sant Martí— a Vilafranca del Penedès, encara que el cronista escrigui Villa-nova. De fet, ja feia unes setmanes que havia caigut greument malalt mentre es dirigia cap a Salou per embarcar-se direcció a Mallorca, per arreglar les qüestions familiars amb el seu germà Jaume, donat que aquest havia pres part activa en favor de la croada francesa contra ell rei En Pere. Feia una mica més d’un mes —l’1 d’octubre— que l’exercit del rei En Pere havia vençut les tropes croades al Coll de Panissars.

Les vespres sicilianes 

Però els conflictes no només es reduïen a qüestions familiars. A l’origen de la croada s’hi trobava la qüestió siciliana. Veient-se la mort de prop i sota pressió, el rei En Pere va demanar que Sicília tornés a l’Església i va demanar “enviar una ambaixada al papa Honori —quart—, per a obtenir concòrdia entre els fills de Pere d’Aragó i els fills de França que es comentava que eren consanguinis” i així resoldre el conflicte polític. 

Finalment, el darrer problema que havia de solucionar —arran de la croada francesa— era la qüestió castellà per la Regió de Múrcia. Però ni els problemes familiars, ni la qüestió siciliana i, ni de bon tros, els problemes amb Castella pogué fer-se’n càrrec, ja que la malaltia va posar fi a la seva vida.

El foli 459, apartat B, comença amb el suggerent títol: “Sobre la recomanació de Pere, rei d’Aragó, que queda evidenciat amb un exemple del que s’ha exposat amb anterioritat”. Aquest exemple és el que més controvèrsia ha suscitat dins del panorama historiogràfic.

Salimbene d’Adam ens presenta el protagonista de la seva narració, elogiant-lo de manera heroica “Aquest rei Pere d’Aragó fou un home de gran cor, un fort soldat, i savi en la guerra” i demostrada per mitjà d’actes passats. “Doncs aquest home tingué una gran audàcia, i molta empenta”, i més concretament pel “… que es fa palès en l’empresa del regne de Sicília, que contra el rei Carles —d’Anjou— i el papa Martí —quart— es va atrevir a envair-los.” Al llarg de tota la crònica, Salimbene d’Adam ens descriu detalladament tot aquest afer. De fet, el tema sicilià serà un dels grans conflictes del segle XIII. A l’origen del conflicte s’hi troba la qüestió de qui ha de posseir l’illa. L’interès sobre Sicília es deu, principalment, a què l’illa és el graner de la Mediterrània i la clau de la ruta del comerç cap a orient.

Carles d’Anjou havia cercat projectar la seva persona per tota la Mediterrània per mitjà d’una nova croada. Amb la intenció de donar un cop d’efecte als seus adversaris, projectava un nou saqueig sobre Constantinoble, reproduint els esquemes de la quarta croada (1204). Però la situació es va torçar quan el sud italià s’enfrontà obertament a la seva política personal. Els sicilians havien començat a comprendre que la seva projecció com a república —similar a la de Gènova o Venècia— estava en greu perill. Aquest debat, Carles no el va entendre i va preferir destruir tal iniciativa.

Seguint la política insular del seu pare —el rei En Jaume el Conqueridor—, el 30 d’agost de 1282 un poderós estol català comandat pel rei En Pere va desembarcar a les costes de Sicília —concretament a Trapani—, provinent de la costa tunisenca d’Al-Coll, on hi havia anat a ajudar el seu vassall i aliat Abu-Bekr, senyor de Constantina. Un cop a Sicília, el rei En Pere es dirigirà cap a Palerm per ser coronat rei el 27 de setembre de 1282. La seva presència allí no era gratuïta: la seva esposa era Constança de Sicília, neta de Frederic II Hohenstaufen “stupor mundi”. Amb aquest acte, el rei En Pere reivindicava la memòria del passat de la família Hohenstaufen a l’illa, el passat que havia intentat esborrar la política de Carles d’Anjou. Els sicilians estaven convençuts que aquesta —la catalana— era la millor opció i la més encertada per a forjar el seu projecte. És per això que els sicilians, el 31 de març de 1282, s’havien alçat en armes contra el domini francès a l’illa. Aquest fet fou conegut com la revolta de les vespres sicilianes.

El conflicte va posar en escac la política de Carles, conduint-lo a una situació tensa. La negativa del rei En Pere d’abandonar Sicília el va conduir a dos nous horitzons: la disputa bèl·lica contra Carles i la disputa legal contra el papa. D’ambdues en va sortir victoriós. Mentre que a Carles el va esclafar a Nicotera —Calàbria— a les forces del papa les va destrossar a Panissars.

Un exemple per l’audiència 

Salimbene ens explica que per a demostrar tot això, posarà un altre exemple sobre la valentia demostrada pel rei En Pere: “Evident, encara que seguit d’un altre exemple, amb això que clarament exposem”. Cal dir que a l’edat mitjana era molt normal recórrer a exemples fantàstics, impossibles de realitzar pels mortals, un terreny reservat tan sols per als herois. La finalitat de l’exemple és captar millor l’atenció del lector, com així ha estat. Aquest recurs de ficcionar un episodi per reforçar la imatge d’un rei valent no és un cas aïllat en la literatura medieval. Per exemple, en la tradició francesa, es troben històries similars sobre Carlemany i la seva llegendària ascensió als Pirineus, on es diu que va rebre una revelació divina sobre la seva missió a Hispània. Aquesta narració simbolitza la seva campanya per expandir el cristianisme i el seu paper com a defensor de la fe. De la mateixa manera, també es poden trobar paral·lelismes amb Ricard Cor de Lleó i les seves aventures a Terra Santa, així les novel·les cavalleresques franceses, situa l’heroi dins d’un espai d’incertesa —d’aventura— com és el bosc, per reafirmar el seu poder i coratge.

Salimbene ens situa el seu exemple en un espai concret “En els confins de Provença i d’Hispània” i ens presenta l’objectiu “s’aixeca una alta muntanya, que la gent del país l’anomena Mont Canigó” i l’envolta de misteri “encara que nosaltres podríem anomenar-la Mont Tenebrós.” Atès que el protagonista de l’exemple és el rei català, Salimbene, segurament va optar per escollir un espai geogràfic del territori del rei.

Des de temps llunyans, el Canigó havia estat considerada com la muntanya més alta de la serralada dels Pirineus, impossible d’arribar-hi. Però per si no havia quedat prou clar que l’empresa és molt arriscada, recorre a una descripció geogràfica que li ofereix el gram geògraf grec del segle II, Ptolemaeus d’Alexandria a la seva “Geographia” el qual va recollir observacions empíriques que permetien identificar punts de referència geogràfics rellevants per a la navegació: “Doncs, aquesta muntanya que els mariners veuen primer a l’arribada, després de partir és el darrer punt que podem veure, perquè quan ha desaparegut, cap altre és visible.” D’aquesta manera, l’objectiu impossible ha quedat fixat. Malgrat haver tingut alguns problemes interns, com ara les guerres amb els sarraïns, la revolta dels barons o els problemes familiars, la política insular iniciada pel rei En Pere arran del seu casori amb Constança de Sicília —el 13 de juny de 1262— ja no tindrà fre. El rei En Pere seguirà la seva política fins a les darreres conseqüències, encara que això esdevingui una qüestió personal.

Després d’emfasitzar sobre la perillositat de l’empresa plantejada pel rei En Pere, el cronista continua escrivint: “Mai cap home hi ha habitat, ni cap fill d’home s’ha atrevit a pujar-hi a causa de la seva alçada extraordinària, per la dificultat de l’itinerari i per l’esforç”. Malgrat haver tingut alguns recels importants a l’interior del reialme, sobretot per part de l’Església sobre les seves intencions d’envair Sicília, el rei En Pere va persistir en la idea inicial i va decidir tirar endavant amb l’aventura. En un primer moment, el rei En Pere comptarà amb el suport polític de dos importants aliats: Castella i Constantinoble. És per això que Salimbene ens diu: “Doncs bé, Pere d’Aragó havent decidit a pujar a la muntanya va cridar al seu costat a dos cavallers, amics íntims, que ell honrava amb el seu afecte, cosa que li prometeren no separar-se mai d’ell.”

Com ja hem dit abans, la campanya de Sicília va començar el 30 d’agost de 1282. Un cop iniciada, aturar-la era quasi impossible, malgrat l’excomunicació papal del 9 de novembre de 1282. En aquest punt, Salimbene ens parla que “Mentre pujaven sentiren trons espantosos i del tot terribles sentiren trons espantosos i del tot terribles” fins que els seus companys “caigueren a terra, morts de por sota el pes de la por i de l’espant d’allò que els havia vingut” que malgrat els esforços del rei En Pere per a restituir la situació, els dos companys “fins a perdre el coratge.” En realitat, les dues aliances que havia signat amb Castella i Constantinoble mai arribaren a fer-se efectives. Per altra banda, vist que l’excomunicació papal no havia donat resultats, el papa va lliurar els regnes del rei En Pere a qualsevol príncep cristià que els volgués conquerir. Per això, el 27 d’agost de 1283 l’oferia al rei de França i el 27 de febrer de 1284 —en una cerimònia celebrada a París— donava la investidura a Felip III de França, l’Ardit. Des d’aquell moment, la croada començava a dibuixar-se. Malgrat tot això, el rei En Pere va continuar amb la seva empresa.

El desafiament de Bordeus 

Però hi ha un fet que encara honra més la figura del rei Pere. Al foli 427, Salimbene ens explica amb gran detall el famós desafiament de Bordeus. Carles d’Anjou havia comunicat, per mitjà d’una ambaixada al rei En Pere, que aquest no havia estat cavalleresc i que havia entrat a Sicília sense raó. Per tant, aquesta qüestió l’havien de solucionar cavallerosament —o sigui, a cops d’espasa— i per aquest motiu se citaren per l’1 de juny de 1283 a la ciutat de Bordeus amb la finalitat de solucionar la qüestió siciliana. Ràpidament, el rei En Pere, s’adonà que es tractava d’una maniobra de distracció del rei francès per allunyar-lo i matar-lo lluny del seu regne —com li havia succeït al seu avi a Muret— cosa que l’alertà a marxar prematurament de Bordeus. I preveient la imminent invasió de Catalunya per les trobes croades del papa i del rei francès, el rei En Pere va demanar ajuda als seus aliats. La negativa fou total i al rei En Pere no li va quedar cap altre remei que afrontar la situació tot sol. És per motiu que Salimbene ens diu que davant d’aquest fet “Pere va decidir pujar amb grans dificultats tot sol.”

Així doncs, el rei En Pere va disposar el seu exèrcit —per tal de barrar al pas a les tropes croades— en els principals colls de la serra de l’Albera: Panissars, Pertús i Banyuls. Malgrat els intents dels croats per passar-hi, les tropes del rei En Pere van poder frenar els intents. Però va ser l’abat de Sant Pere de Rodes qui va mostrar a les tropes croades el pas del Coll de la Maçana —prop el castell de Requesens—, la qual cosa els va permetre travessar l’Albera —12 de juny de 1285— i arribar ràpidament fins a Girona per posar-hi setge. Després d’uns mesos d’intensos combats —terrestres i navals— les tropes catalanes venceren les tropes croades. Potser, de totes elles, la coneguda és la batalla del Coll de Panissars de l’1 d’octubre de 1285. 

El doble sentit de la crònica

I ara entrem en la qüestió més delirant de la narració. Salimbene ens explica que “I quan fou al cim de la muntanya —el rei En Pere—, hi va trobar un llac” i en veure’l “aquell lloc, hi va tirar una pedra. Aleshores sortir un drac horrible, de gran dimensió que es va posar a volar per tot l’aire que omplia d’ombres i que l’enfosquia amb el seu alè. Després —d’aquest succés— el rei En Pere va iniciar el descens.”

Aquest és el fragment on rau la gran metàfora que amaga el text de Salimbene per explicar el regnat d’En Pere II el Gran. La política insular del rei En Pere el va conduir a fitxar com a objectiu principal Sicília (el llac); després de temptejar la zona amb les campanyes de Tunísia, finalment hi ha el desembarcament a Trapani (tira la pedra); el papa Martí IV l’excomunica i posa tot els seus regnes sota la jurisdicció del rei francès (surt un gran i horrible drac); els francesos envaeixen Catalunya seguint la proclama de la croada dictaminada per la Santa Seu (el cel s’enfosqueix amb l’alè del drac); finalment, el rei En Pere surt victoriós de Bordeus i de la croada contra Catalunya (inicia el descens).

Finalitzada la seva aventura, Salimbene li reconeix els seus mèrits i les compara amb les empreses realitzades pel gran heroi llatí: Alexandre el gran. És per això que Salimbene ens diu: “Segons jo —Salimbene—, la gesta de Pere d’Aragó es pot comparar amb les gestes d’Alexandre, que amb moltes terribles empreses i gestes es va esforçar per a merèixer els elogis de la posteritat.”

La fi del mite

La figura del rei En Pere II el Gran de Catalunya no deixa de ser interessant pels esdeveniments que són lligats a ella. No es va astorar davant de tantes adversitats, arribant a meravellar als seus adversaris. Va saber afrontar el seu repte i el va superar. I aquesta és la seva metàfora; la seva existència personal. I aquesta és la mirada que recull Salimbene a la seva crònica. És per això que el context en la qual apareix la figura del rei En Pere II de Catalunya (d’Aragó) dins la crònica és sempre relatiu a la problemàtica siciliana. Aquesta qüestió, Salimbene la descriu d’una manera clara, descrivint l’evolució des de l’època de l’emperador Frederic II Hohenstaufen “stupor mundi”, passant pel període del rei Manfred i Carles d’Anjou fins a arribar al rei En Pere II de Catalunya.

Salimbene intueix que el rei En Pere II el Gran de Catalunya —igual que ho serà Carles d’Anjou— serà un dels personatges rellevants del panorama polític del segle XIII. Ho creu perquè coneix de primera mà els esdeveniments. Sap que el rei En Pere va haver de recórrer un llarg camí i va haver d’afrontar-se a tota mena de penalitats per assolir el seu objectiu final. És per això que Salimbene, reconeixent-li la seva tenacitat i la seva convicció de si mateix, ens mostra una certa simpatia vers el rei català. I per aquesta raó no ens ha d’estranyar la lloança metafòrica que realitza a la seva crònica un cop s’assabenta que el rei ha mort.

El problema —com sempre— rau en la mirada amb la qual ens apropem al passat. Des d’un punt de vista rigorós, tothom sap que l’existència d’un llac al cim d’una muntanya és més que improbable, perquè si així fos estaríem desafiant a les lleis de la física. És de sentit comú. Per no parlar sobre l’existència de dracs. Si neguem aquestes dues premisses, el nostre pensament com a historiadors ens ha de situar enfront d’una pregunta clau: Què ens intenta explicar el cronista a través de la seva narració? 

En canvi, si no realitzem aquest petit esforç i reconduïm la narració fictícia cap a la realitat, amb la finalitat de donar-li veracitat, ens endinsem per un camí molt perillós. Malgrat això, hom s’hi ha endinsat. És per això que trobem datacions a l’acció que narra en Salimbene. Ni el 1276, i encara menys el 1285 són possibles. No ho són perquè mai va existir l’aventura del Canigó, encara que la idea romàntica d’un feudal davant la muntanya sigui tan suggerent: La veritable aventura fou Sicília. El Pirineisme comença quan l’home té curiositat per entendre la realitat i es llança a l’aventura de l’observació, però… això són figues d’un altre paner. 

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El procés genètic i cultural que els humans vam experimentar ara fa uns cinc milions d’anys ens va capacitar per transformar objectes en utensilis, fet que ens va permetre adaptar-nos amb més eficàcia als diferents climes de la terra. La mobilitat va ser clau per a la nostra supervivència. Però, ara fa 10.000 anys aproximadament, aquest nomadisme es va veure alterat per un descobriment encara més revolucionari: l’agricultura. 

La possibilitat de produir l’aliment propi va comportar que ens establíssim en zones aptes per al conreu i, al mateix temps, ens va permetre estabular els ramats salvatges per a assegurar-nos la proteïna de tot l’any. Aquestes societats sedentàries primitives van quedar condicionades per sempre més per un calendari agrícola i ramader. Serà aleshores quan apareixeran les primeres evidències del culte als déus, a les deesses i als avantpassats. 

I què hi té a veure tot plegat amb Tot Sants? Doncs que l’antropologia ha estudiat a fons com, en l’origen de la festivitat hi ha un patró, una creença, que es dona de manera similar en infinitat de cultures d’arreu del món. El seu punt de partida sempre és el mateix: la celebració del naixement d’un període d’obscuritat que s’allarga fins a un període de llum. Així és com trobem festivitats com les de la Pomona romana, la del Samhain celta o l’Udazkena basca. 

D’aquesta manera, el Samhain o l’Udazkena marcaven l’inici en el calendari agrícola del període en què els camps i les terres semblaven ermes —similar al món dels difunts— fins que, amb l’arribada de la primavera, tot tornava a començar. S’iniciava així un nou cicle de la vida. Aquestes creences paganes que practicaven els habitants del ‘pagus’ —els pagesos— van mantenir-se ben arrelades durant mil·lennis fins a la irrupció del cristianisme al segle I. 

El món catòlic s’apropia de les tradicions paganes

L’inici de la fi del paganisme va venir de la mà del Papa Bonifaci IV, que l’any 610 va consagrar el Panteó romà d’Agripa, que fins aleshores s’havia dedicat al culte pagà de Júpiter. Aprofitant aquest fet, va instituir una festa que commemorava tots els sants desconeguts i anònims de la cristiandat i que se celebrava el 13 de maig. 

Però no va ser fins a mitjans del segle IX, arran del Renaixement carolingi, quan s’instaura, definitivament i per tot l’occident medieval, el que coneixem com la festivitat de Tots Sants. L’encíclica papal de Gregori IV de l’any 840 va promulgar la cristianització definitiva de tots els territoris de l’imperi i va obligar a substituir les festes paganes, com ara el Samhain o les de Pomona, per la de Tots Sants, canviant la data de celebració a l’1 de novembre. Durant centúries, el món catòlic va continuar la seva política de suplantar tradicions ancestrals paganes per esdeveniments d’església, mentre que al món anglosaxó, on el protestantisme era preeminent, va relaxar aquesta pressió. 

Avui dia, observem que mentre Tots Sants és més aviat fosc, trist, de plorera i silenci, en canvi, Halloween —‘All Hallow’s Eve’— és festiva, dolça, divertida i, això sí, molt amplificada per l’aparell propagandístic nord-americà. A la resta del món, com ara Filipines o Mèxic —i sobretot arran de la pel·lícula ‘Coco’, de Pixar—, la festivitat té, encara més, un caire festiu: no només es visita la tomba del difunt, sinó que se celebra un pícnic familiar al seu voltant, on es col·loquen màscares, cintes de colors i, fins i tot, es cuinen plats especials. 

A Catalunya, alegria i severitat

Pel que fa a la nostra cultura, segons narra el folklorista i etnòleg Joan Amades al seu conegut ‘Costumari català’ (Salvat Editors, 1982), el dia de Tots Sants té dues cares ben diferents: l’alegre i festiva del matí i la rigorosa i severa de la tarda. Això és així perquè, tal com recorda Amades, hi ha una creença molt popular que, just quan fa mig dia de l’1 de novembre, les persones que han mort fa poc temps tornen unes hores a viure amb la família. 

Fins i tot hi havia la tradició, en algunes cases de Barcelona, de posar el plat a taula per al difunt, com si fos un convidat més. Així mateix, era molt comú, l’1 de novembre, convocar els difunts a casa, però també ajudar-los a tornar a l’eternitat. Per això, a la façana de les cases era habitual penjar-hi uns fanalets, i també s’hi posaven sobre les tombes. 

Al costumari, Amades també rememora un costum típic de les poblacions rurals, on era popular fer ofrenes de pa als difunts dins els cementiris. Aquesta tradició va evolucionar fins als populars panellets, que els forners van convertir en un negoci. 

Seguint amb la gastronomia, per aquestes dates les castanyes, els moniatos i els panellets han estat i són els aliments més usuals. A tall d’anècdota, per exemple, s’explica que en algunes zones de Catalunya hi havia la superstició que menjar castanyes feia caure els cabells i, per això, les dones no en volien menjar. Per aquest motiu, les castanyes se substituïen per pinyons. Potser per això molts panellets s’embolcallen amb les llavors del pi.

En definitiva, la festivitat de Tot Sants, d’avui, d’abans i de molt abans, sempre respon al mateix esperit: mantenir viva la memòria dels nostres avantpassats i venerar el cicle de la vida que tan bé s’expressa en el món de pagès. 

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In the European Union, women earn on average 13% less than men. And the pay gap in Catalonia is even wider, reaching 20%. Latvia and Estonia are the only EU states with a higher pay gap. Fortunately, the problem could be reduced thanks to the new pay transparency rules.

According to the latest data from Idescat, women in Catalonia earn 20% less than men. While the average gross annual salary for men was over 30,000 euros in 2020, the average gross annual salary for women was less than 24,100 euros. This is significantly worse than in the European Union, where women earn on average 13% less than men per hour worked. In fact, Latvia and Estonia are the only EU states with a wider pay gap than Catalonia.

The principle of equal pay is enshrined in article 157 of the founding text of the European Union. However, the gender pay gap has barely decreased in a decade, from 15.8% in 2010 to 13% in 2020. This is why 22 February marks European Equal Pay Day, which aims to put the spotlight on the problem so that EU members take action.

It should be borne in mind that there are a number of inequalities underlying the pay gap. It is not only that women earn less than men when doing the same job. In addition, women are over-represented in relatively low-paid sectors such as care and education, while the so-called glass ceiling leads to the under-representation of women in managerial positions.

Transparency against inequality

Fortunately, the Czech presidency and the European Parliament reached a provisional agreement on pay transparency rules in December. This will empower women to apply the principle of equal pay for equal work through a set of binding measures on pay transparency.

To avoid discrimination, companies will have to ensure that their employees have access to the criteria for determining pay and possible pay increases. Employees and their representatives also have the right to request and receive information on their individual pay levels and on the average pay levels of employees performing the same work or work of equal value, broken down by gender.

Companies with more than 100 employees will also have to report on the pay gap between male and female workers. Where there is an unjustified difference in the average wage level between men and women of at least 5%, the employer must carry out an assessment including measures to correct the unjustified pay gap.

Penalties for violators

Employees whose employer has not respected the principle of equal pay are entitled to claim compensation. The courts may order the company to put an end to the infringement and take corrective measures. Both equality bodies and workers’ representatives will be able to act on behalf of one or more employees to enforce the principle of equal pay.

Hopefully, these are the first steps towards real equality between men and women in terms of pay and job opportunities. All that remains is for the EU member states to bring their legislation into line with the new directive. They have three years to do so.

It is curious that Luxembourg, the country with the highest average wage in the EU at more than 70,000 euros per year, is also the country with the smallest gender pay gap: women earn only 0.7% less than men, according to Eurostat.

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Va ser a finals del segle XI quan el feudalisme finalment s’imposaria. Els senyors feudals, nobles o membres de l’Església, obligarien els camperols a entregar un excedent sobre la seva feina, castrant les seves llibertats i forçant l’endeutament d’una gran part de la població. Oriol Garcia Farré, agent d’11Onze i historiador, ens ho explica.

Es tractava d’un sistema polític, econòmic, jurídic i social establert durant l’Edat Mitjana per tot el continent Europeu. Els regnes es dividien en petits territoris que tenien certa independència, els quals eren administrats pels nous senyors feudals, laics i eclesiàstics, que proporcionaven ‘protecció’ als camperols adscrits a la terra, a canvi de tributs i treball.

Almenys aquesta era la retòrica oficial, com explica Garcia, “la majoria de la documentació existent sobre el procés de feudalització només explica el que als senyors o als eclesiàstics els interessà documentar”, i continua, “tingueu present que en aquesta documentació quedaran al marge amplis sectors de la societat, com per exemple els pagesos”.

Obligatorietat de generar un excedent

Amb la imposició del feudalisme, la producció agrícola i ramadera va convertir-se en el pilar de l’economia. L’explotació sistemàtica dels pagesos a través del cobrament de tributs, sense els quals “no hauria estat mai possible la construcció de castells, torres, monestirs o les portalades romàniques”, apunta Garcia, donarà pas a la necessitat de “demandar i lligar noves terres de conreu”.

Així doncs, es va produir una intensificació de l’agricultura esperonada per la coerció dels senyors feudals exercida sobre les comunitats de pagesos lliures, “que durant tot aquest procés de feudalització van estar empeses a abandonar la seva economia de subsistència, amb l’única finalitat de generar un excedent”, afirma Garcia.

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We end the chronological journey that has brought us closer to the history of the vindication of the ‘feminine self’, through five women who have marked the course of contemporary history, written from a feminine perspective. Centuries of history have given rise to small and great victories for the normalisation of a point of view based on pure social conventions that have little to do with human nature. Now, feminism in the 21st century continues to raise its voice for one of the oldest historical demands: equality between women and men.

Looking back, we can see that, despite the fact that history has been written by men, women have played a key role. In all areas and in all struggles. Protagonists in the shadow of human history, where every struggle and every right acquired in favour of the female gender has been debated again and again. A circular history that constantly and independently of the country or the time takes us to the same point: the travelled road has allowed us to advance, to a greater or lesser extent, depending on the society and the subjective prism through which we look at it. A step forward, but not enough. The struggle does not stop. Equality is still a long way off for the younger generations.

Male superiority and #patriarchy

Moral superiority (and nothing else than moral) between sexes, ethnic groups, cultures or social classes is nothing more than evidence of a desire for control that, far from being natural, is born out of social constructions based on power, often linked to money or directly to physical force. Any reasoning or behaviour born from superiority cannot be considered just and, therefore, should not be considered feminist. The perpetuation of the feminist struggle evokes multiple conclusions. We put one on the table: in order to continue to advance, men have to join in.

History has been written by men, the world has been led by men and even religions are highly masculine. Can we talk about progress if we still count every woman who for the first time gains access to a place of power? If laws are needed to achieve parity in the workplace? If women’s bodies, maternal decisions or the way they dress are decided by men all over the world or if machismo violence continues to murder and rape girls, girls and women at home? If all this is what constitutes the current world we live in, changing it must surely be a gender issue. You cannot redefine the role of women without redefining the role of men. And it all comes down to education, which has to move away from patriarchy, the term that defines a male-dominated social organisation.

#NotAllMen, but #AllWomen

Half of the population still lives under the stigma of the weaker sex, under the control of patriarchy and with the certainty that despite not being directly affected by it myself or the women around me, looking at both sides everyone has a story nearby that shows how much work remains to be done. Throughout history, feminism has gone through various stages which, depending on the context of the time, have involved one type of struggle or another, based on conservative, liberal or vindictive ideals. There are many women to whom we can put a face and whose history we can explain. Some of them have achieved great advances for women, while others have simply paved the way with ideas, works or by opening doors that until then had remained closed.

Feminism, understood as the search for equality between men and women, has as many interpretations, currents or meanings as there are people who talk about it. Interpretations vary according to the education received, family tradition or the behaviour that each person has seen at home. It is understandable, therefore, that thoughts such as that feminist women are “exaggerating”, that “there are no inequalities nowadays” or that life has to be lived “as it always was” justifying that traditions, however misogynist they may be, have to be respected instead of changing them to achieve parity. Faced with this reality, it is all the more important to emphasise that feminism must be based on respect, the basis on which to aspire to freedom. Can anyone who lives with their eyes fixed on others be free?

From liberation to sexual normalisation #lovewins

Many societies have accepted that sexual orientation does not have to be a reason for hatred, let alone aggression or legal sentences. Sexual freedom is normalised and some stigmas linked to sexuality are left behind, especially among the younger generations and in Western countries. Destigmatization is born in the awareness of one’s own body, freedom of decision, and respect for other ideologies. Also, the construction of rapidly proliferating partnerships such as polyamory or open relationships, which, beyond the yearning of any generation of young people to discover themselves, try new things and live experiences, also shows and gives hope for a future that is predicted to be respectful and open-minded. The least moral judgements, and freedom and respect above all else.

Unfortunately, once again there is no situation or context free of aggression by people who, because of their sex or sexual orientation, feel superior to those who are different. Sexual orientation is still a justification for aggression, and conservative love relationships with gender roles marked by the male presence are not stopped either. Forced relationships, physical, mental and sexual violence against women, the sexualisation of the female body or the social and individual judgement of women to enjoy sexuality that is full and grounded in their freedom are not stopped either. Freedom, however, which society strives to emphasise is limited, always within social canons, standards and subjected to multiple criticisms in the eyes of the world. Perhaps for this reason, because advancement is never enough or generalised, the feminist struggle constantly shares space with the struggle of other minorities or collectives in search of the freedom that by nature should be granted to them.

The struggle will be shared, or it will not be #MeToo

The reality of movements such as #MeToo corroborate that when a woman raises her voice to make a complaint, thousands appear by her side who have experienced the same thing and, whether out of ignorance, fear, or a feeling of normality in the face of attitudes that should not be normal, have preferred to remain silent for years. And what kind of normality can it be to live in the 21st century, where a few minutes of a man’s sexual satisfaction prevails over a woman’s life? Many are the battles won, the advances and the scenarios where parity is being achieved. There are many men who have been educated and educate from this prism of respect, regardless of sex or sexual orientation, and there are also more and more young people who grow up without the stigma of the patriarchal base and young women who identify and denounce any situation that goes against their freedom.

Of all the positive things we could list and be proud of, mainly because of all those who have dedicated their lives to the cause and even lost them, there is one thing that stands out above all: the struggle for life. When the moral superiority that sentences a life in exchange for ideals all over the world disappears, feminism will be able to take the final step and start talking about freedom.

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Traditional Spanish historiography, centred around the Royal Academy of History —with its permanent headquarters in Madrid— still, upholds the concept of the “Reconquista” in the 21st century. This term is laden with political intent, serving to fuel the most Unitarian postulates of Spanish politics—especially on the right and far right—which perpetuates a monolithic and teleological view of the peninsula’s past.

Fortunately, since the end of Franco’s dictatorship, a new generation of historians has broken with the dogmas imposed by the regime, drawing inspiration from the methodologies of the Annals School and the French scientific model. This shift meant accepting that documentary sources did not reflect the entirety of social reality, but only what those in power had decided to record. Thus, most of the society—especially peasant communities—had been deliberately excluded from this official epic narrative.

The progressive incorporation of archaeology as a primary source made it possible to compensate for the documentary bias. This renewed perspective dismantled the traditional narrative and opened the door to studying forms of social organisation and settlement models that had historically been invisible. Thanks to this, it became possible to investigate productive dynamics, distribution processes and territorial reorganisations that until a few decades ago had remained hidden.

Furthermore, this methodology has revealed flagrant contradictions between the documentary record and archaeological remains, exposing numerous cases of falsified documentation, especially in disputes between ecclesiastical institutions and peasant communities, particularly with regard to property, exploitation rights, and territorial boundaries. This has shown that power not only controlled the production of surplus, but also legitimised its right to do so.

Today, the historiographical consensus is clear: the formation of feudalism in the Iberian Peninsula cannot be understood as a linear or homogeneous process. The most recent research shows that there was no single ‘peninsular feudal model’, but rather a constellation of territorial processes with diverse chronologies, intensities, and forms of articulation. Far from being a simple importation of the Frankish model, Castilian-Leonese feudalism was built on a complex foundation that brought together structures inherited from late antiquity, internal transformations derived from military pressure on the border with Al-Andalus, and the concentration of territorial power in the hands of a minority of local elites.

In short, these studies have shown that, over the centuries, power structures have exerted systemic coercion on the subordinate classes, progressively imposing the generation of surpluses to sustain the most unproductive sectors of society. Only through a multifaceted approach—economic, social, cultural, and mental—will it be possible to understand the complexity of a radically plural and diverse peninsular reality, far removed from the simplification that revolves around the supposed and unalterable essence of Spain.

The creation of a new historical reality

The Castilian-Leonese expansion can be interpreted, if one wishes, as a story of the Wild West due to the striking similarity between the two expansions, both in terms of the dynamics of employment and transformation and in their subsequent territorial consolidation. Thus, if we replace Arab scimitars with Indian bows and arrows, swords with cowboy revolvers, and stone castles with the wooden forts of the Seventh Cavalry, the result is a story worthy of the Western film industry.

However, this analogy should serve to distance us from the Spanish epic based on “destiny in the universal” and to accept — once and for all — that the process experienced by the Asturian world at the end of the 8th century is not an isolated event, nor, by any means, the result of a substantial idea. Rather, these events were very similar to those that occurred in other territories of the Hispanic world.

A paradigmatic case was the kingdom of Pamplona, which, only half a century later, adopted a very similar mechanism of legitimisation: the proclamation reigned —without Carolingian endorsement or immediate Caliphate pressure—, supported by the Church and by a heroic narrative —Roland and Roncesvalles— which, in the image of the Asturian model.

Based on this premise, we can understand how the new political reality of the north-west of the peninsula developed from the 9th century onwards. The emergence of a new oligarchy of Oviedo magnates, enriched by an efficient economy of pillage –on Caliphate lands– altered the tribal status quo of collective election, replacing it with the hereditary transmission of power within a single family. This break with the past took concrete and lasting shape with the founding of a new capital on the remains of an ancient Roman military camp. In this way, León became the new epicentre of Asturian-Leonese royal power.

This gesture not only involved the displacement of the political epicentre from Oviedo to León, but also the adoption of a new title — Rex Hispaniae — which evoked the plural notion of Hispania, configured from the ancient late Roman provinces. However, the Navarrese proclaimed Eneko Aritza—or Íñigo Arista—as Rex Pampilonensium, a title that emphasised their autonomy and, in turn, claimed power anchored in a specific territory and a distinct political community. The coexistence of these two formulas—one with a peninsular scope and the other with strictly regional roots—perfectly illustrates the fragmentation of power and the plurality of political projects that characterised the Iberian Peninsula in the early Middle Ages. In short, the notion of “Hispania” was far from being unified under a single crown, but rather became a disputed space, where each kingdom sought to legitimise itself on the basis of its own tradition and genealogy.

The new Leonese dynasty reorganised its political space into four territories: Galicia, Asturias, Cantabria and Bardulia—known from the 10th century onwards as Castile—linked by a modern urban network designed to meet the needs of an aristocracy increasingly dependent on the royal expansionist policy. At the same time, the south was the subject of intense military fortification to guarantee the security of the kingdom. From then on, the territory south of the border was known—both as a political entity and as a defensive space—by the name of Extremadura, from the Latin Extrema Durii, “the end of the Duero”.

Unlike the Asturian valleys of the north, this Extremadura—that is, the strip between the Duero and Tagus rivers—offered wide plains and forests suitable for the progressive and coercive imposition of large-scale cereal and livestock production, the basis of the survival of the Kingdom of León.

Only this perspective explains the enormous economic dynamism that the Leonese dynasty experienced throughout the 10th–12th centuries. Therefore, continuing with the analogy of the Far West—like a gold prospector gone mad— the kingdom of León always needed new territories to continue feeding its greed and that of its allies in order to maintain the political, economic and cultural structure of the kingdom.

Propaganda as a weapon of mass destruction

Whenever the coffers of the Kingdom of León demanded greater revenues, the recipe was invariable: expand at the expense of the lands under Caliphate jurisdiction. This constant thirst for resources was due, above all, to the whims of the elites: the enlargement of a palace or cathedral, the commissioning of a mural painting that responded to purely ornamental and ideological tastes, the acquisition of relics of dubious origin, the purchase of lavish jewellery with spices from the East, and, even more importantly, several devout—and very costly—journeys to venerate the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. In short, these were expenses that were absolutely essential for the smooth running of the kingdom’s internal economy.

In addition, it was necessary to maintain a warrior elite that would guarantee the status of the elites, which represented such a huge economic drain on the royal coffers—and, incidentally, on the peasant communities—that the only way to legitimise it was to keep these warriors constantly on the move. This was to prevent them from becoming bored and starting to look for enemies at home, as numerous episodes documented in the 11th century show. Faced with this danger, the Leonese elites chose to channel feudal violence outwards, inventing and magnifying an external enemy: the infidel of the Caliphate, who, by defending himself against feudal attacks, further justified Leon’s expansionist policy.

But no conquest can last without a narrative to give it moral cover. The chronicles – like television or cinema today – were the perfect amplifier: they decided the plan, cut out reality, inflated the smallest victory and hid the most humiliating defeat. All wrapped up in heroic discourse that turned looting into a pious work and an unworthy manoeuvre into a founding feat. They did not explain what happened, but rather what was convenient for posterity.

And this is where the Albeldense, Rotense and Sebastianense chronicles come into play: pens that write to the rhythm of the sword, drafted ex post to create a tailor-made memory. Thanks to them, the usurpation was disguised as a feat and the Leonese dynasty proclaimed itself the direct heir to the legendary kingdom of the Basques. The ultimate paradox: the same dynasty that, at the time, had done everything possible to differentiate itself — or even renounce — that legacy, now claimed it as its founding pedigree.

To give substance to the legend, they did not hesitate to invent heroes such as Pelayo and battles such as Covadonga—episodes that, at best, are only mentioned in passing in accounts written centuries after the events they purport to describe. In fact, contemporary Arab chronicles do not even mention them, revealing the extent to which these myths are political constructs rather than historical accounts.

These chronicles—the foundation on which the historiographical idea of the ‘Reconquista’ is built—are not a transparent window into the past, but rather a showcase for political and economic propaganda at the service of a dynasty and an aristocracy hungry for land and eager to perpetuate their status. Far from merely explaining events, they anchor the fiction of a historical mission and construct an invented right to intervene in territories and communities that, until then, had lived on the margins of the new machinery of power. A fiction that, more than a millennium later, still breathes… and which, in some Castilian academic circles, continues to be venerated with the blind faith of a dogma.

A territory of “free people”

From the beginning of feudal expansion in the early 9th century, the territories of the north-western peninsula were organised under the legal and administrative formula of dominium, based on Roman law, which designated a dominus or lord as the owner of the land. Therefore, the king or count became, from the outset, the ultimate owner of all the land that was expropriated.

No lord would have any interest in owning land, water, livestock, or mills if there were no peasants capable of organising stable work processes that would convert their efforts into income. For this reason, from the 10th century onwards, León’s expansionist policy was implemented through the communities of ‘town and land’, which would become the key element of political and legal organisation within the newly expropriated territories.

Contrary to what traditional historiography maintains, these territories were not a desert in the literal sense of the word, i.e. completely unpopulated. The term desert has been used in a self-serving way to justify the use of force, when in reality it referred to areas that were not under the effective jurisdiction of Leonese or Castilian power. Free peasant communities lived there, with their own forms of self-government and resource management, which escaped the fiscal and jurisdictional control of the new lords.

The real danger to the aristocracy was not, therefore, a supposed demographic void, but the existence of these independent groups to be subjugated. To achieve this, brutal debt mechanisms were created — letters of settlement, ‘presura’ contracts — which immobilised the population, tied them to the land and allowed large-scale cereal and livestock production to be imposed, with the aim of ensuring the continuity of the lords’ incomes.

Over time, the lands ended up being ceded to other lords, ecclesiastical entities or monasteries, generating a diversity of property regimes — royal, abbatial, ancestral, behetría — which, from the 14th century onwards, would lead to the concentration of power and land in a few hands. Historiography has defined this process as Lordship.

However, at the beginning of the 13th century, this territorial policy ended up suffocating León society. The ambition of the rentiers—the nobility and clergy—demanded more land and, therefore, more peasants to turn it into income. However, since part of the indigenous population had been expelled or massacred, León—now more than ever—found itself with large unpopulated territories. Furthermore, the population of León did not have sufficient demographic capacity as a result of an insufficient birth rate, which prevented the situation from being reversed. For this reason, the Leonese feudal model became, in the long run, inflexible; and, despite providing social stability, it ended up stifling innovation and expansion.

At the same time, Castilian feudalism, which had also originated on the border with Al-Andalus, was shaped by an even more militarised society, where peasants were both farmers and soldiers, forced to defend the territory while producing surplus crops. Therefore, each new conquest required the construction of fortifications and the establishment of settlements that transformed entire communities into defensive units.

This dynamic made Castile a society that was extremely adaptable to the different expansionary circumstances of the successive centuries. For this reason, both the aristocracy—and the clergy—and the peasants shared the same social function: to guarantee territorial dominance. While León preserved a conservative feudalism, Castile deployed a much more aggressive, adaptable and dynamic feudal system, capable of projecting itself hegemonic over the rest of the territories. This model worked as long as there was enough territory to implement it, that is, until the 14th century.

Faced with this scenario of structural exhaustion, the royal family of León opted for a “pragmatic” solution: to sell the kingdom of León to Castile for an annual sum of 15,000 maravedis — about €2 million today — for each member of the family until their death. The agreement was sealed in the Concordia de Benavent (1230).

The Castilian extractive model

Following the purchase of the Kingdom of León, its integration into the Castilian sphere not only transformed the political balance on the peninsula, but also marked a turning point in the model of land exploitation. The former diversity of political and economic structures was absorbed by a system of government that concentrated power and land in the hands of a rentier minority, often absentee landlords, who lived far removed from productive activity. These elites, whether the monarchy, the high nobility or the upper echelons of the church hierarchy, gradually detached themselves from the material needs of the population and focused on perpetuating their privileges.

The Castilian peninsular economy evolved into an extractive model in which wealth did not come from innovation, manufacturing or internal trade, but from the ability to extract agricultural and fiscal rents from a subjugated peasantry, after having experienced the process of seigniorage or loss of freedoms. The territory was now perceived as an inexhaustible source of exploitation, rather than a space for innovation. This logic consolidated a structure of systemic inequality, in which productive work was relegated to the lowest strata, while the elites concentrated wealth and political power.

When, from the 16th century onwards, massive shipments of gold and silver from America began to arrive on the peninsula, this colossal influx of precious metals was not used to diversify the economy, create infrastructure or promote an industrial base of its own. On the contrary, it became fuel to finance distant wars, sustain a deeply corrupt court, maintain an increasingly parasitic aristocracy and pay perpetual debts to German and Italian bankers. Corruption was not a deviation from the system, but a pillar of its functioning: the distribution of honours, positions, and privileges served to ensure political loyalties and perpetuate the rentier circle. The result was that, while the Castilian royal coffers saw tons of gold pouring in, internal productive structures remained anchored in medieval patterns and dependent on rent extraction.

Thus, at the dawn of the 18th century, Castile was burdened with a structural deficit that turned the weakness of the urban fabric, the fragmentation of markets and the persistent concentration of land into insurmountable obstacles to modernisation and industrialisation. The feudal structures, the lack of an autonomous bourgeoisie capable of challenging aristocratic power, and the pre-eminence of agricultural rents over manufacturing production had shaped a dual country: a north with some dynamic urban centres but no capacity for traction, and a south dominated by large, unproductive estates.

This imbalance was not the result of specific circumstances, but rather the continuation—under new forms and new names—of the economic and political model born with the integration of León into Castile. A model that survived intact through each change of dynasty and which, with the arrival of the Bourbons, would not only remain unreformed, but would end up being amplified.

A dynamic that continues to this day

In the early 18th century, the death of the last Habsburg triggered a bloody war of succession. When the Spanish throne finally passed to the Bourbons, many believed that this would mark the beginning of a profound reform of the state, given that Philip V inherited a healthy treasury thanks to the management of his predecessor, Charles II, and the first documented controlled deflation in Western Europe. The royal coffers showed a surplus, an unheard-of situation for a monarch accustomed to the French court, which was permanently in debt due to the extravagant luxuries of Louis XIV.

But in less than ten years, that economic cushion evaporated. Bourbon centralism did not reform the system, but rather shielded it. The state continued to live off rents and depend on external resources, while public assets remained at the service of the private interests of the circles of power—an inertia that, in fact, has continued to this day.

The new administrative apparatus, modelled on the French system and marked by the French mentality—the conception that France is not just a state, but a territorial project that always seeks to be more compact, more controlled and with “perfect” borders—served to control all the peninsular territories and the flow of wealth they generated more directly. Therefore, this system was not used to modernise the economy, let alone to redistribute opportunities. Cronyism, corruption, and the distribution of positions to loyalists not only continued, but became systemic. In this way, the historical imbalance between the peninsular territories was perpetuated.

The hexagon that never closes

Ultimately, the change of dynasty did not mark the birth of a modern Spain, but rather the continuation of a secular mechanism, now with a French accent and wrapped in a more polished narrative. A narrative that drew on the expansionist mentality of the hexagon, but which remains unfinished to this day.

Following this political logic, Castile reached the Cortes of Cadiz (1812) —in the midst of the war against Napoleon— to formulate ‘Spain’ as a unitary state for the first time. The underlying objective was territorial homogenisation, something that was never achieved due to the existence of internal linguistic, legal, cultural and economic diversity.

Napoleon’s defeat and the subsequent Congress of Vienna (1814–1815) drew up a new continental map. The great European powers, obsessed with containing France, created several ‘buffer states’ —such as the Netherlands, Bavaria and Piedmont-Sardinia— to curb possible future French expansion. In this context, Catalonia, due to its geographical position, historical identity and political tradition, had the opportunity to become the fourth leg of this defensive belt in the south. However, the combination of a Spain ruled by an absolutist and discredited Ferdinand VII and Catalan economic elites more interested in maintaining commercial privileges in the empire than in redefining their sovereignty closed that historic opportunity. This episode demonstrates that borders are not always marked by geography, but by political decisions—and renunciations.

Since then, Spain’s clienteles system and structural corruption have not only survived, but have adapted to each regime: from the networks of influence woven during feudal expansion, later evolved through the process of lordship under the Old Regime, to the caciques of the 19th century, the elites of the Restoration, and the intermediaries of the 20th and 21st centuries. The mechanism has always been the same: to concentrate power and resources in a like-minded minority, while proclaiming a unifying discourse that ignores or erases internal differences.

And this is where the concept of ‘Reconquista’ becomes the cornerstone of all Spanish political ideology over the last two hundred years. Through an apparently historical narrative—spanning an uninterrupted period of about a thousand years—this concept was used by the Castilian elites not only to justify unity, but also to present it as an indispensable condition for sustaining the very structure of the state. This structure is nourished by creating economic and political dependencies of the territorial elites on the centre: privileges, contracts, positions, and aid that ensure their loyalty and neutralise any dissent. Without this network of dependencies—where corruption acts as cement—the system would become ungovernable.

Likewise, this dynamic of the Spanish state has also generated internal resistance in some territories which, despite pressure, have managed to fight to preserve their uniqueness, language, culture, and institutions. But this resistance —often underestimated— has also had to combat not only the offensive from the centre, but also the betrayal of those who, without scruples, have sold their country in exchange for favours and perpetual income.

Thus, the imposition of Castilian supremacy over the peninsular plurality is the mechanism that allows this architecture of power to be perpetuated. The hexagon is still unfinished, not because of a lack of centralising will, but because the peninsular reality—radically diverse since its origins—has never been homogenised towards the centre. Only a multifaceted approach would allow Spain to finally take shape.

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The European Union is facing political, economic and military decline in the world. The special interests of individual states deprive it of a strong voice on the international stage, where it usually acts at the beck and call of the United States. In this context, Europe’s real sovereignty is almost a utopia.

Turbulent times lie ahead in Europe. The war in Ukraine has heightened tensions with Russia, which is increasingly tightening its ties with China. The conflict has led European governments to strengthen their alliance with the United States and rethink their defence and energy policies. Moreover, the war has provoked tensions within the EU itself, which are likely to grow.

Where can we go from here? It is hard to say. Europe has come a long way since the 1950 Schuman plan and the 1957 Treaty of Rome, which has made it the world’s second-largest democracy and third-largest economy. But after the dream of European Union and prosperity brought about by the fall of the communist bloc in 1989, European idealism has melted like a sugar cube. It has done so in an “international disorder” under US tutelage and marked by economic crises, pandemics, a process of partial deglobalisation and conflicts between the great powers. 

Never before has the EU had to face an international situation that is moving towards multipolarity and is plagued by crises that pose numerous threats and challenges. And it has not even been able to develop the long-awaited Common Foreign and Security Policy (CFSP). 

One certainty: foreign policy remains one of the least integrated elements of the EU. This was demonstrated, for example, by German Chancellor Olaf Scholz on a trip to China in early November 2022. This visit was met with a barrage of criticism from European partners for denoting unbridled unilateralism, as Germany’s interests clashed with those of the other EU members. 

European disunity

It is no secret that each country defends its own interests. As Martin Wolf, economics editor of the Financial Times, recently warned, some main problems facing the EU stem from the fact that it is not a state but a confederation of states. From this stems the difficulties of managing divergent economies within a monetary union, in which the European Central Bank plays an essentially political role to avoid insurmountable imbalances between the different economies. 

True integration is lacking. The reality is that the European single market is not integrated in the same way as the American market, for example. The lack of dynamism in a crucial sector today, such as information and communication technologies, is largely explained by this fact. It is symptomatic that only one European company, ASML, is among the ten most valuable technology companies in the world. 

There is nothing to be optimistic about. In a more fragmented international context with greater nationalist impulses, even Germany, the real engine of Europe, is finding it increasingly difficult to find markets to absorb its production. High energy costs are a threat to its heavy industry. And then there is the push from China and the United States’ move towards an interventionist and protectionist policy. 

This situation means that there is a lack of a real common European policy, weighed down by individual national interests, which even threaten the existence of the single market. 

Europe’s role in the world

A vital question for Europe, as Wolf points out, is to define what role it wants to play in the world, whether it wishes to remain a ‘servile’ ally of the United States, become a bridge between blocs or regain the status of a power. The first option seems the most plausible, since to become a power again it would need a much deeper political and fiscal union, as well as overcoming internal mistrust.

The rise of China, India, Russia, and others as economic and military powers forces the EU to be a single actor with a single voice in matters of global importance if it aspires to be one of the relevant ‘poles’ in the multipolar future. But the more active and independent the EU wants to be, the more crucial it will be to deepen its federalism, a process plagued by nationalist reluctance.

The rise of populism

The rise of populist movements in Europe since the financial crisis of 2008 and the migration crisis of 2016 poses a threat in this regard. Most of them are characterised by Euroscepticism, believing that the root of Europe’s socio-economic problems lies in European integration and Brussels’ decision-making. 

This is not a marginal movement: a study by the Pew Research Center shows that Eurosceptic parties already hold 29% of the seats in the European Parliament, the highest figure in history. Thus, a significant proportion of those who make the big decisions on the future of the European Union are also those who oppose further integration. And without such integration, it is difficult for Europe to regain a leading role on the international stage.

Little progress

The EU has set a number of priorities for the period 2019-2024, including the protection and freedom of citizens, the development of a strong economy, sustainability in Europe and the promotion of European values and interests on a global scale. Unfortunately, little progress has been made in these areas.

We live in a world characterised by disorder, growing protectionism and conflicts between great powers. It is certainly not the world of which the founders of the European Union dreamed. But if its current leaders wish to preserve something of the original spirit, they should strengthen the foundations of the project and move towards real European sovereignty. This would require halting deindustrialisation, driving digital transformation, deepening integration and establishing a single voice in the world.

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Equality between women and men is not only achieved through universal suffrage. Full equality lies in changing the deepest structures of patriarchal society. We must work for a society that reflects a true relationship between equals. We continue with the historical exercise on great female figures of our contemporary history.

At the beginning of the 19th century, Catalonia embarked on the road to modernity through the process of industrialisation. The mechanisation of the textile industry and the structuring of the territory, with the construction of the railway and road network, enabled the country to become one of the most dynamic economies in Europe.

The capitalism that emerged from this process generated great profits for the few at the expense of great social imbalances. Inevitably, the workers’ movement emerged, forcing the better-off classes to reflect on whether it was permissible to make steady profits without a fair distribution of wealth. Then came the key question: is class struggle inevitable?

History has seen countless theorists address the question over the past centuries. Many have theorised and legitimised workers’ wills against bourgeois labour exploitation. And countless trade union movements have worked to liberate the worker from the oppression of the boss.

Competing interests

The class struggle has led the workers to use the right to strike and, as a last resort, physical confrontation to achieve their demands. And the bourgeoisie, supported by the power of surplus value, has been able to put pressure on public institutions to counteract the legitimate demands of the workers. When this understanding has been impossible, war and concentration camps have appeared.

The dialectic of revolutionary strategies for the abolition of capitalism and the processes of achieving an egalitarian society – which would also mean the end of the oppression of women – became the workhorse of radical feminism in the early part of the 20th century.

Many believed that, in order to eliminate gender inequality, it was first necessary to fight to end social classes, the patriarchy and the Church. After all this, the real emancipation of women would be achieved. Universal women’s suffrage would not be enough, just a progressive illusion to control their voice. Therefore, for the anarcho-feminists, it was necessary to go much further: would it be the dictatorship of the proletariat which would bring full equality of both genders? In this process, would it also be necessary to destroy the state, the symbol of bourgeois control?

A libertarian leader

No one would ever have imagined that an anarchist leader like Frederica Montseny i Mañé (1905-1994) would go so far. The only child of a married couple who were militant in the incipient libertarian ideas, she forged her revolutionary character at a very early age. The acquisition of knowledge, through her mother’s side of the family, imbued her with a strong sense of freedom, which shaped her character as a woman.

Frederica Montseny understood that the class struggle was the necessary path to achieve full individual freedom, the power of decision and the choice of a way of life. All this would shape the essence of the individual within society. And in this process of liberation, for both women and men, the acquisition of knowledge would be of vital importance.

This anarchist leader understands that women have to live in absolute freedom and that there must be a perfect balance between women and men. Her frame of mind was therefore far from the feminine “I” as a complement to the masculine “you” that prevailed at the time, which led her into exile from January 1939 onwards.

She soon stood out for her flair for writing, so she began to collaborate in the anarchist press and eventually joined the Confederación Sindical de los Trabajadores (CNT). Both ‘La Revista Blanca’, the theoretical organ of Spanish anarchism, and the more satirical newspaper ‘El luchador’ became excellent loudspeakers for disseminating her anarchist thought: between 1923 and 1936 Frederica Montseny wrote more than 600 articles.

An anarchist in government

History had an enormous challenge in store for her, one of those that place you in front of a major existential dilemma. A few months after the outbreak of the Civil War, the trade unionist Francisco Largo Caballero formed a government of national unity, in which all the progressive and revolutionary forces that made up the political landscape of the state had to be represented. His government was to include republicans, liberals and members of the PSOE, the PCE, the POUM and also the CNT.

Frederica Montseny thus became the first woman in the history of Spain to hold a ministerial post, as was the portfolio of Health and Social Welfare. The decision had not been an easy one because of her ideology and the pressure from the most purist sector of anarchism, which demanded that she resign from the post.

Stubbornness and the timeliness of the situation led Montseny to push through the first decree legalising abortion. This was a fifty-year advance on women’s right to decide about their own bodies.

Forced exile

However, everything came to a halt with the triumph of fascism in Spain. In French exile she encountered Nazi fascism, which nearly ended her life. She lived in France until 1977, when she returned to rebuild the anarchist trade union and continue the work interrupted in 1939. The world had changed, however, and the revolution had been pushed aside by the welfare state.

Frederica Montseny was one of the first voices to establish a direct correlation between women’s liberation and libertarian ideas. She never considered herself a feminist, although her theses have ended up forming part of the ideological body of contemporary feminism.

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Des de temps immemorials, allò que els geògrafs grecs van definir com a Península Ibèrica, ha esdevingut el solar on s’ha construït una Història, la qual ha anat forjant diferents realitats i maneres de ser. Però amb l’esdevenir d’Espanya —a principis del XIX— diferents concepcions polítiques han cercat la manera de vertebrar-la a qualsevol preu. Per aquest motiu, alguns s’han entestat a demostrar una fictícia uniformitat històrica i territorial, pel simple fet de compartir una mateixa geografia. Catalunya ha compartit aquest solar, però la seva realitat històrica és una altra i és bo recordar-ho, ara que el debat torna a estar obert.  

La història tradicional d’Espanya s’ha construït d’acord amb la premissa d’atorgar un protagonisme únic a Castella —perllongada amb Andalusia i Extremadura— la qual ha estat exclusivament identificada amb Espanya. A la perifèria, especialment el llevant mediterrani i el nord-oest peninsular, se li ha permès tenir o bé un paper secundari o bé adquirir una certa rellevància de manera puntual, sobretot en els moments on la decadència castellana es feia més palesa. 

Així doncs, Castella —sempre sota una òptica negacionista— ha fet creure que existeix una “nació espanyola” i unes identitats “perifèriques” que les ha autodefinit com a nacionalitats. Però la realitat és una altra. La nació espanyola com la nació catalana o la nació basca són, existeixen, perquè són viscudes i percebudes pels qui així mateix diuen formar-ne part. Per tant, es torna a fer ús de la banalització per tal de confondre l’opinió pública i intentar evitar qualsevol procés d’autodeterminació legítim. En aquest sentit, la construcció identitària de la nació espanyola es torna ben sovint una destrucció sistemàtica de les “perifèries”, és a dir, l’espanyolisme acaba construint la seva identitat a còpia de reprimir les diferències del territori que considera nacional. 

Aquesta visió ha posat de manifest el greu problema sobre la realitat històrica d’Espanya. En primer lloc, ha evidenciat la imperfecció d’Espanya com a projecte polític atès que ha mostrat reiteradament els continus problemes d’adaptabilitat a l’estàndard occidental, sobretot pel que fa a dinàmiques d’adopció del capitalisme, el liberalisme i el racionalisme en el triple aspecte de l’econòmic, el polític i el cultural. I, en segon lloc, i encara més important, el fracàs més absolut de Castella en la seva tasca de fer d’Espanya una comunitat harmònica, plenament satisfeta amb ella mateixa i tolerant amb la resta de territoris que la componen. Si s’amaga la plurinacionalitat de l’estat, es deforma el passat.

Esmicolant “la unitat de destí en el fet universal”

Dins del sistema escolar franquista, la historiografia es va articular en funció del concepte de “Reconquesta”, el qual es tracta d’un concepte historiogràfic —emprat encara en els currículums de secundària de Castella— que descriu el procés de recuperació —puix els musulmans no eren legítims propietaris de la geografia hispànica— del món feudal per sobre del món musulmà i jueu. Aquest procés arrencaria poc després de l’arribada dels àrabs a la península Ibèrica (segle VIII) i finalitzaria amb els Reis Catòlics (segle XV), els quals acabarien unificant “Espanya” com un Estat integral. Aquesta Reconquesta acabaria forjant “l’esperit espanyol”. 

A mitjan segle passat, un conjunt d’historiadors —a fi de legitimar els vencedors de la Guerra Civil— emprengueren la tasca de construir els arguments històrics on se sustentés el nou règim. El corpus teòric es va basar a trobar “l’essència d’Espanya”. Per tant, la historiografia espanyolista va arribar a “demostrar” que realment existien uns trets distintius de continuïtat entre el passat prehistòric fins a l’actualitat els quals defineixen aquest “esperit espanyol”.  

Actualment, les investigacions tendeixen a trencar l’homogeneïtat territorial de les províncies i mostren una predisposició cada vegada més clara a realitzar recerques que subratllin més les diferències socials i territorials, com per exemple els darrers estudis sobre els hispanogots del segle VIII, on es constaten diferències significatives entre les societats peninsulars, principalment condicionades pels hàbitats on desenvolupen les seves activitats. Les evidències arqueològiques —sense defugir de les fonts documentals— demostren fefaentment que el procés de romanització les va afectar de manera molt diferent.  

Per tant, les crisis de l’antiguitat tardana dels segles III al VIII provocarien canvis molt més profunds, els quals afectarien de manera desigual als diferents territoris peninsulars. En conseqüència, l’arribada dels àrabs a la península Ibèrica també afectaria aquestes societats de diferent manera, per la qual cosa, la idea de la continuïtat entre el regne visigot i les consegüents formacions polítiques es diluiria com el sucre.

L’arqueologia ha confirmat que la penetració del món musulmà dins el territori peninsular no va ser tan traumàtic com s’ha volgut fer creure. Les restes arqueològiques revelen que, després de la conquesta, el territori peninsular mai va ser abandonat. Per tant, tot això demostraria que molts hispanogots van professar la nova fe musulmana, no tant per convicció com per mantenir la propietat de la terra. I aquesta terra es veurà transformada per la introducció de nous sistemes de producció agrària, basats principalment en la gestió i la força de l’aigua.

Deslegitimar l’origen per anul·lar la diferència 

A partir del segle IX, la majoria dels territoris peninsulars s’organitzaran com a regnes, i el rei esdevindrà el seu màxim representant. En canvi, als territoris del nord-est peninsular el comtat serà l’estructura administrativa que s’implementarà, i el comte —imposat des d’Aquisgrà— s’encarregarà d’administrar justícia, garantir l’ordre públic i gestionar la fiscalitat.

Aquest element diferenciador —com fou l’organització carolíngia del territori català— serà àmpliament combatut per la historiografia franquista a través d’una política de disminució de la seva rellevància. Per aquest motiu, se la considerarà una estructura de govern amb poca rellevància històrica i, per això es durà a terme una nul·la voluntat de difusió —tant en els cercles acadèmics com en els currículums escolars— la qual cosa afectarà el seu coneixement. 

Per tant, no ens ha de resultar estrany que aquests d’historiadors no vulguin entendre que la nostra singularitat és el resultat d’un enquadrament jurídic diferent de la matriu hispànica. El territori català serà adscrit seguint la política carolíngia de la Renovatio Imperii. Segurament, fou per aquest motiu la seva nul·la difusió, atès que l’essència d’Espanya quedava molt llunyana! 

Certament, el títol de rei és un dels càrrecs polítics més antics i coneguts. L’arrel més antiga de la paraula la trobem a l’indoeuropeu REG (regir/governar) la qual evolucionarà al llatí com a REX. En el context de les transformacions polítiques que es van succeir a partir del segle IV a l’occident europeu, amplis territoris seran governats per líders militars d’origen germànic, els quals progressivament s’alliberaran del domini de Roma i s’organitzaran com a regnes. Els nous cabdills territorials —siguin gots, francs o sueus— seguiran la seva tradició jurídica i adoptaran el títol de rex com a màxima figura política. 

Per tant, tots els sobirans peninsulars seran continuadors de la seva legalitat jurídica. Mentre que les dinasties astur-lleonesa o na­varresa o castellana continuaran utilitzant el títol de rei, el sobirà català utilitzarà el títol de comte, atès que legalment continuarà lligat a la dinastia francesa —hereva de la legalitat carolíngia a través de la família Capeta— i legitimada pel Papa, fins a la signatura del Tractat de Corbeil i ratificat al Tractat d’Anagni de mitjan segle XIII. A la pràc­tica, tots seran sobirans amb la mateixa potestat, tant si són reis com si som comtes.

El fet més paradoxal sobre la història d’Espanya —edificada a partir del concepte historiogràfic de la Reconquesta— és que es construeix a partir d’una falsa premissa com és la d’assignar una legitimitat continuadora del regne visigot vers el regne astur. 

Està àmpliament estudiada que aquesta màxima no és certa. Els experts han demostrat que les poblacions indígenes cantàbriques —siguin asturs, càntabres o vascons— sempre van mantenir una relació molt distant i bèl·lica amb el món romà, visigot, àrab o carolingi. Per tant, el seu aïllament es deuria més per un problema d’escàs enquadrament administratiu que no pas per una resistència ferotge contra uns conqueridors romans, visigots, àrabs o carolingis. En conseqüència, el pamflet propagandístic que suposen les tres cròniques d’Alfons III d’Astúries —sobretot l’Albeldense, que de fet és d’on surt el famós concepte de Reconquesta— s’han de llegir com allò que són: una legitimació jurídica davant l’opinió pública (i Déu) de l’agressió efectuada contra una part de la població hispànica que l’única cosa que tenen de diferent —respecte a la resta de la població— és que professen una religió diferent.

La voluntat d’alterar la realitat

“In Dei nomine. Ego Ramirus, Dei gratia rex aragonensis, dono tibi, Raimundo [Berengario], barchinonensium comes et marchio, filiam meam in uxorem, cum tocius regni aragonensis integritate, sicut pater meus Sancius, rex, vel fratres mei, Petrus et Ildefonsus…” és, sens dubte, un dels fragments claus de la història de Catalunya que ha suscitat major bel·ligerància historiogràfica, sobretot per la part aragonesa. 

Aquest fragment correspon a les famoses “Capitulacions Matrimonials de Barbastre”, les quals van ser ratificades amb la “Renúncia de Saragossa” —ambdues de l’any 1137— per la qual el rei Ramir II d’Aragó, el Monjo, comunicava públicament als seus súbdits que donava la seva filla, el seu regne i els seus honors al comte Ramon Berenguer IV, comte de Barcelona, i que aquesta donació se segellarà a través del matrimoni entre el comte de Barcelona i la seva filla, Peronella.  

En conseqüència, el comte de Barcelona serà nomenat príncep hereu d’Aragó, i Ramir —tot i mantenir el títol— retornarà al monestir de Sant Pere el Vell d’Osca, d’on va sortir a correcuita per ser coronat rei. Per la seva banda, Peronella —amb tan sols un any— serà enviada a Barcelona per ser educada com a futura comtessa consort de Barcelona i reina d’Aragó. Tretze anys més tard, el comte Ramon Berenguer es casarà amb ella a Lleida, un cop va tenir l’edat legal per fer-ho, o sigui, catorze anys. Aleshores, serà el primogènit d’aquesta unió —Alfons el Trobador— qui esdevindrà la primera persona que ostentarà els dos títols —el de comte i el de rei— la qual cosa legitimarà la nova concepció política sorgida d’aquella donació. 

La realitat històrica no manipulada referma el fet que després de la “Renúncia pública de Saragossa” el regne d’Aragó quedà en un segon pla polític, atès que voluntàriament s’havia desposseït del seu valor successori, element clau al segle XII. Malgrat això, els successius comtes de Barcelona respectaran i mantindran sempre totes les institucions aragoneses, marcant l’inici de la Confederació Catalanoaragonesa. 

Per tant, és bàsic no caure en el parany polític que circula entre certs cercles espanyolistes, els quals argumenten que Peronella d’Aragó fou l’element clau que va permetre annexionar els comtats catalans al regne d’Aragó. Voler fer creure que una princesa d’un any enamori a un comte de Barcelona de vint-i-quatre anys, i que aquest —en plena expansió dels seus dominis— ofereixi els seus territoris a Aragó a canvi d’obtenir “un títol de més prestigi”, és ser un neci! I per reblar el clau, el fet de construir dues genealogies paral·leles —Alfons I de Catalunya és el mateix que Alfons II d’Aragó— demostra que existeix maldat i voluntat de tergiversar la realitat. 

La veritable problemàtica a la qual s’enfronta Aragó a principis del segle XII és la de trobar una solució jurídica al testament del rei Alfons I el Batallador, el qual havent mort sense descendència, havia donat tots els seus territoris als Ordes militars, i això va provocar un terrabastall institucional. Els castellans —aprofitant aquest buit de poder i legitimats per la repudiada exmuller del rei— iniciaren la invasió de Saragossa, seguida per la desconnexió de Navarra a través de la figura de Garcia Ramírez, conegut com el Restaurador. D’aquesta manera, Aragó quedava molt debilitada econòmicament amb el consegüent risc de desaparèixer. 

En contra del que han difós els extremistes aragonesos, la unió d’Aragó amb els comtats catalans va ser l’única sortida viable per a l’oligarquia aragonesa. Va ser l’única forma per frenar la pressió exercida, tant per castellans com per navarresos, i així poder potenciar la seva economia agrària i ramadera amb una sortida clara als mercats mediterranis.

Posar els límits al poder

A finals del segle XI, una nova mentalitat aparegué dins la societat barcelonina, la qual es basà en el treball, la moral empresarial i l’amistat. Per aquest motiu, Barcelona va poder desenvolupar una forma pròpia d’acumulació de capitals, assentada en l’augment i la millora de la producció agrícola del seu territori, cosa que li permeté esdevenir l’epicentre administratiu dels comtats catalans. Les nocions de benefici, d’inversió i de capital cristal·litzen al llarg del segle XII i condueixen als comtes de Barcelona a la conquesta de les ciutats de Tortosa, Lleida i Balaguer, i a l’intent frustrat de conquerir Mallorca. 

I tot plegat serà possible gràcies a un clima d’estabilitat social que després del terrabastall polític que havien suposat les revoltes feudals, es van acabar imposant les convenientiae o pactes feudals entre iguals. A partir d’aleshores, la cultura del pacte es va anar generalitzant per tots els comtats catalans i esdevindrà una de les particularitats de la nostra manera de ser. Fruit d’aquell pacte, es redactaria la primera versió dels Usatges de Barcelona, base del dret consuetudinari català. 

De manera gradual, la sobirania catalana s’anirà repartint entre els diferents braços —comte, noblesa, clergat i ciutadans honrats— que representaran gran part de la societat. Per tant, aquesta política constitucionalista serà un dels trets distintius de la Corona que a partir del segle XIII s’anirà ampliant a mesura que es continuïn executant les polítiques expansionistes comtals. Aquests nous territoris seran configurats com a Estats, on la Corona vetllarà per a mantenir les particularitats de cada territori. Aleshores, Catalunya passarà a definir-se com a Principat, atès que la seva màxima autoritat serà la figura d’un príncep o el primer entre iguals. 

A diferència de la resta de territoris peninsulars —on la problemàtica del poder se centrarà sobre la sacralització— a Catalunya, el conflicte se situarà sobre el seu ús. La constant evolució del dret català acabarà atorgant poder al comte per cessió (entre iguals). Per tant, se l’obligarà a gestionar correctament la seva despesa i a respectar els diferents furs, costums, privilegis o usatges dels seus territoris. D’aquesta manera, es fomentarà el pactisme entre iguals, amb la finalitat d’equilibrar els interessos econòmics entre la noblesa, el clergat i la burgesia, a fi de mantenir l’estabilitat social.  

Com a resultat —i molt abans que els anglesos— les Corts Catalanes esdevindran el model perfecte de parlamentarisme, les quals constituiran el nucli de la tradició pactista catalana que ha arribat fins als nostres dies. Malauradament, amb la derrota del 1714 i la implantació del Decret de Nova Planta, la Confederació Catalanoaragonesa va ser fulminada i esmicolada en diferents províncies d’una nova monarquia centralitzada que governaria per a tota la península Ibèrica sense diferències legals.  

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Newton’s first law states that an object always tends to be either at rest or in motion, rectilinear motion, unless an external force alters its state. Therefore, if a centripetal force acts on this object, it will be trapped by an invisible force called the central force. In this way, the object will see its movement altered, its inertia modified, and it will be difficult for it to return to its original physical state.

The Aragonese economist and historian José Larraz López, a distinguished member of the Royal Academy of Moral and Political Sciences, wrote an interesting book on economics in 1943 entitled ‘La época del mercantilismo en Castilla (1500-1700)’. He was a procurator in Franco’s Cortes and Franco’s minister in 1939, just after the end of the civil war – and therefore a man committed to Franco’s dictatorship to the bone – and when referring to the unity of Spain, he argued that the political reality of that time – between the 15th and 18th centuries – had been very different from that of his own time. Consequently, we could not speak of the existence of a single unitary state – Spain – for all those centuries, which would be the case after the arrival of the Bourbons.

The fact is that both Galicia, Asturias, Cantabria, León and Castile – the original core of the kingdom – and the three Basque provinces – Alava, Guipúzcoa and Vizcaya – plus Extremadura, Andalusia and Murcia will end up forming part of the same integrated body. In this way, the central part of the Iberian Peninsula – the area stretching from the Cantabrian coast to the Strait of Gibraltar – will end up sharing the same border, and the same Cortes will legislate the territories – the Castilian Cortes – which will use the same currency and all together will follow the same economic and fiscal policy. Pardon, except for the three Basque provinces which, from the 14th century onwards, would be exempt from all Castilian taxes. It is therefore clear that the other peninsular territories – Portugal and the Catalan-Aragonese Confederation – were never part of this Castilian matrix.

Indeed, in the mid-15th century, the Iberian Peninsula was divided into five political blocs of unequal importance: Portugal, the territories of the Crown of Castile, the Kingdom of Navarre, the Catalan-Aragonese Confederation and the Muslim Emirate of Granada. In fact, by the middle of the 15th century, each of these groups of territories would eventually acquire a very distinct personality and become original societies with their own customs, their own legal peculiarities, their own institutions and even their own language.

That a historian of the darkest period of the dictatorship – such as José Larraz López – should serve to combat the colossal misinformation or ignorance wanted by current Spanishism should shame a part of the political class, the media – including the ‘influencers’ hidden behind the networks – who time and again, from their supreme tribunes, have not tired and will never tire of proclaiming the existence of a unitary Spain for more than five hundred years.

The Castilian oligarchy -for too long and although speaking Catalan in private-repeats over and over again the same mistake when they speak of Spain as a political reality since the 15th century, referring to it as ‘the oldest nation in Europe’. If they understood once and for all that from the 15th century to the early 18th century, Castile pursued a policy of zero integration of the Mediterranean – and Portuguese – world, and that this was only possible through the use of force, combined with persistent repression and a constant plundering of economic resources in order to modulate their legitimate aspirations, it would surely help them to understand many issues that happen to us today as a state. More specifically, it would help them to understand that the Spanish project – as it has been set out since the arrival of the Bourbons – is totally unsustainable.

The beginning of the Hispanic divergences

After the Navas de Tolosa, Castile definitively entered the interior of the lower Meseta, which provoked a period of extreme euphoria in view of the possibilities offered by the new territory. But it soon realised that, despite its determination, it was encountering the same problem that León had encountered at the end of the 12th century. It was after the Concordia de Benavent – the agreement on the purchase of the kingdom of León by Castile – that Castile – except the Nazarí Kingdom – acquired practically the current perimeter.

The lower plateau, with its mountainous and rugged terrain -especially in the areas closest to the Central system-had land that was unsuitable for agriculture -except for the Guadalquivir valley-, with scarce and poor quality pastures, which, added to the strong climatic variability between summer and winter, were too adverse factors to be able to take control quickly. In addition, there were three even more determining factors: the low birth rate of the population in the north, the lack of mobility of inhabitants from the north to the south – despite the promotion of the ‘presuras’ or territorial divisions – and the consequences of applying an excessively repressive policy against the native population – by arguing nonsense – which culminated in the expulsion of the Andalusian Moriscos.

All these factors would have a very negative impact on the Castilian economy because any manufacturing and commercial activity, such as trade with the East or Africa across the Straits of Gibraltar, would be nipped in the bud. In any case, the Monarchy – in order to prolong its expansionary policy – continued to need to increase its regular income, which contributed to a situation of extreme inflation, resulting in a monetary alteration and generating a permanent deficit in its balance of trade.

As a solution, the Monarchy exerted strong fiscal pressure on some sectors of the population – such as the Jews, for example – but above all on the great transhumant herds of the upper plateau, just at the time when both Flanders and northern Italy were becoming the great buyers of Castilian wool. This plains traffic had catapulted Burgos to the forefront of European cities and turned the Cantabrian Sea into an important maritime axis towards Europe, which stimulated the birth of a textile industry. But all this faded away as soon as the interests of the nobility – the owners of the land, based on ancient rights of conquest – prevailed over any private initiative of the plainsmen, which made it impossible for the economy to flourish in the following centuries.

Faced with economic suffocation, the Monarchy – in order to boost the economy – resorted to the credit offered by the Jewish communities settled in the main Hispanic cities. So it was, sooner rather than later, that kings, nobles, military orders, ecclesiastical communities and ‘councils’ – and even individuals or ‘situados’, as they were known at the time – ended up abusing credit, which in the long run became a real internal problem. Faced with the heavy indebtedness of the Castilian public treasury, the Monarchy – as a result of the generalisation of non-payments – began to reform its financial system, although the real trigger was the promulgation of the Edict of Granada – also known as the Decree of the Alhambra – by which the Catholic Monarchs decreed the expulsion of all Jews from the Hispanic territories, which meant obtaining large assets for the Monarchy in the short term.

As for the rest of the peninsular territories – above all the Mediterranean and the Portuguese Atlantic world – they were able to find in the sea a lever for growth that allowed them to continue with their expansionist policies. For example, the Catalan commercial bourgeoisie was able to take advantage of the consequences of the war with France – the famous crusade of Philip Ardid – to boost its manufacturing industry. The creation of the Consulates of the Sea and the extension of old maritime routes – begun in the 10th century – were the mechanisms of penetration that the Catalan-Aragonese Confederation used to satisfy the demand for its products – rags, iron tools, coral, leather, spices and slaves – both in the mainland markets – Lisbon, Donostia, Bilbao and Seville – and in the foreign markets of Sardinia, Sicily, Bruges, Constantinople, Tunisia and Alexandria.

A territory made up of free people

From the beginning of feudal expansion – at the beginning of the 9th century – the territories of the northwest peninsular were configured under the juridical-administrative formula of ‘dominium’, based on Roman law, which meant that the holder of the land property was a ‘dominus’ or lord. Therefore, the king or the count – the highest figure in the social pyramid – from the beginning became the final owner – directly or indirectly – of all those lands that were expropriated.

It should be borne in mind that no lord would have the slightest interest in owning land, water, herds or mills if there were no peasants capable of organising stable work processes that would lead to the conversion of effort into income. Therefore, with the creation of Extremadura from the 9th century onwards, the Castilian-Leonese expansionist policy was implemented by means of the ‘villa and land’ communities, which would become the key element of political-legal organisation within the ‘new expropriated territories’. In this way, the landscape of the Meseta was articulated on the basis of the foundation of a series of major towns – walled and with representation in the Castilian Cortes – on which depended six or eight unwalled hamlets located around the main town.

For the lords, the real danger lay in the existence – within that vast territory – of free peasant communities that could escape the new jurisdiction. For this reason, they created mechanisms that involved a brutal indebtedness of those communities of ‘villa and land’ through the famous settlement charters or ‘asentamientos’ and the ‘presura’ contracts, so that they would lose all possible mobility, remain attached to the land and, in this way, ensure the return of the debts contracted.

And since the king’s life was so ‘sacrificial’ – it still is today when they indulge in the luxury of elephant hunting – they ended up ceding the land for services rendered to other lords, ecclesiastical bodies or monasteries. Therefore, it depended on who was the final rentier – that is, the owner – whether the land was known as ‘realengas’, if it belonged to the king; if it belonged to an abbot or a bishop; ‘de solariego’, if it belonged to a nobleman or a military order; or de ‘behetría’, if it was the villagers themselves who chose the lord. In the long run, all these types of property would contribute to the formation of the large estates of the region – known as the process of ‘seigniorialisation’ – which, from the 14th century onwards, would lead to the concentration of much power, both economic and territorial, in a very small part of the Castilian population.

Towards a new conception of the state

At the end of the 15th century, the Castilian-Leonese world would end up ‘expropriating’ some 385,000 km² of land – between the upper and lower plateau – on which nearly four and a half million people would live, including the Nassari population. In the rest of the peninsula, the population would be distributed as follows: in the territories of the Catalan-Aragonese Confederation, about nine hundred thousand people would live on about 110,000 km²; about one hundred and twenty thousand people would live on 11,000 km² in Navarre; and in Portugal, one million people would live on 88,000 km².

Castile, although it was the largest territory in the Iberian Peninsula, continued to experience continuous economic and demographic problems, mainly driven by the process of consolidation of ‘seigniorialisation’, to the detriment of the exhausted expansive economy, which had been based on the indiscriminate expropriation of land and the reallocation of property through physical coercion.

Then, during the second half of the 15th century, the Castilian Monarchy began a process of economic transformation through monetary and fiscal reform, which led to a major social imbalance, to the point that it ended up having a direct impact on noble interests. As a result, major disturbances broke out throughout the kingdom and, unable to calm things down, the Monarchy applied a policy of manorial satisfaction by offering more land, more rights and more pensions for life at the expense of the public treasury and financed by a special tax on the population of the towns of the ‘Comuneros0. To top it all off, in the early 16th century, the main Communities of Castile were forced to assume a considerable tax to cover the purchase of the Imperial title – by the Habsburg family – which led to the famous Revolt of the ‘Comuneros’.

Even so, this policy had an insufficient impact in placating the ambitions of the nobility, which brought to light the existence of a much deeper division within the Castilian aristocracy. The existence of two politically antagonistic factions soon became apparent: on the one hand, there were the Pacheco, Villena and Girón families, who were in favour of taking a more active part in the kingdom’s major political decisions and therefore saw the need to weaken the Monarchy in order to control it. On the other hand, there were the Santillanas and Mendozas who understood that the time had come to abstain from power because the Monarchy was the one that had to guarantee the stability of the kingdom to ensure its ‘seigniorial’ privileges… ‘in saecula saeculorum’.

After the Castilian Civil War (1475-1479), the two largest territories of the Iberian Peninsula – the Kingdom of Castile and the Catalan-Aragonese Confederation – created a new political entity known as the Hispanic Monarchy, which was soon joined by Granada (1492), Portugal (1497) and Navarre (1512). That new dynastic state was shaped by the union of only two key elements: the army and foreign policy. For the rest of the elements that would make up the modern state, such as borders, currencies, laws and institutions, they remained completely separate.

Thus, the configuration and distribution of power – agreed by both sides at the Concordia de Segovia – was structured as follows: while Castile was structured according to the sacralised authority of the queen and always above the nobility and the church – thanks to an effective policy of numbing the Cortes – the Catalan-Aragonese Confederation was organised around the Constitution of Observance, which would always oblige the king to govern and make agreements in accordance with the laws of the Principality.

In the long run, Castile would offer less resistance to the Hispanic monarchs, something that would not happen within the Catalan-Aragonese Confederation, which, while respecting all its legal-political realities, would end up limiting the non-agreed initiatives between the different arms – count-king, nobility, clergy and honest citizens – that would represent part of the confederate society. The historian John Elliott in his famous book ‘Imperial Spain (1469-1716)’ very aptly defined it as follows: the Spanish sovereigns (Castilians) were absolute kings in Castile and constitutional monarchs in Aragon (Catalonia).

The unconscious empire

Only chance and the trade winds led the first navigators of the Catalan-Aragonese Confederation to the most populated area of the American continent. From the very beginning of the westward voyages, the first navigators were certain and aware that where they had arrived was not the East Indies, but a completely different territory. Realising this fact, the Castilian Monarchy deployed all its modern legal and administrative machinery to legitimately possess it. Without entrusting itself to anyone and by right of conquest, the Monarchy once again claimed ownership of those territories, ignoring the indigenous population.

The discovery of important deposits of precious metals – between Mexico and Peru – led to the founding or re-founding of important American cities, which acquired a new territorial role in order to ensure a regular flow of wealth to Castile. Thus, acting as nouveau riche, Castile would spend an indecent amount of economic resources to build its concept of civilisation, based on Catholicism. This obsession – sometimes uncontrolled – would lead them to embark on a myriad of conflicts of all kinds, such as theological disputes, family conflicts, commercial affairs or lavish megalomaniac constructions.

However, at the beginning of the 17th century, the American mines began to show signs of depletion, which became more pronounced as the century progressed. Faced with this slowdown, and in order to maintain the same rate of expenditure, the Monarchy resorted to loans from German banks – the Fuggers and the Welsers – and the Genoese banks of the Spinola, Centurione, Balbi, Strata and, above all, Gio Luca Pallavicino families. It would then be forced to raise taxes and exert fiscal pressure on the whole of Hispanic society. We remember the famous ‘Union of Arms’ of the Duke of Olivares. Faced with a generalised avalanche of non-payments, the State entered into a process of successive bankruptcies (1627, 1647, 1652 and 1662), which contributed to projecting a very unfavourable image of Spain in the eyes of the other European chancelleries.

Spain’s history is still stigmatised today by a ‘black legend’ conceived between the 16th and 17th centuries – both by the Lutherans of Wittenberg and the Dutch of Dillenburg – which sought to chip away at its hegemony in the world. Subsequently, in order to control the raw materials of the Castilian and Portuguese colonies, the English would amplify Protestant propaganda as a key element of discrediting the colonial elites, something that would help them to initiate and finance the independence processes of the Spanish colonies throughout the 19th century.

The Bourbon drift

Castile – and later Spain – has always found itself in a dangerous vicious circle, in which the State’s expenditure has been excessive, and it has needed to continually increase taxes to balance its income, which has led – over a prolonged period of time – to an excessive fiscal pressure on the population as a whole.

With the entry of the Bourbons – after a long campaign to discredit the Habsburgs – the economic problems worsened when, through the use of continuous loans, on-lending, negotiations and renegotiations, these only served to satisfy their personal ‘grandeur’, to the detriment of the modernisation of society by the Enlightenment spirit that prevailed throughout Europe.

The Bourbons were always aware that the only way to economically sustain the entire Hispanic kingdom was to annex all the peninsular territories and thus form a new geopolitical hexagon. However, this was not possible because from the end of the 17th century, Portugal was no longer part of the Hispanic Monarchy, although attempts were made to annex it on three occasions during the 19th and 20th centuries. Therefore, efforts could only focus on the territories of the Levant peninsular which, first with the War of Succession and then with the Nueva Planta Decrees, allowed the Bourbons to link productive sectors – master craftsmen and merchants – to the new centralist system. As a result, this loyalty to the Bourbons allowed those who supported the new regime to gain access to large public contracts, which led to their absolute dependence on the new centralist system, which ended up weaving a web of widespread corruption at all levels of public administration.

There is no shortage of examples, such as when at the beginning of the 19th century Queen Maria Cristina – widow of Ferdinand VII – handed over power to the Spanish liberals, who at the same time made a pact with the Catalan industrial bourgeoisie to forge a self-interested political and socio-biological alliance that would materialise with the institution of a protectionist system. In this way, the Catalan mercantile tradition was squandered and the spirit of 1705 was betrayed, because the Bourbon refusal to free trade the Principality with England and the Netherlands – its main trading partners – initiated the whole process that would converge on 11 September 1714.

Nor did the establishment of the ‘democratic regime of “78” improve matters for the interests of the Levant peninsular. In fact, we Catalans, Valencians and Balearic Islanders suffer the consequences on a daily basis when, year after year, we contribute a massive amount of our GDP to the State coffers for the sake of a ‘solidarity-based centrality’ and, let us remember, with the approval of politicians, industrialists and bankers. And the story continues to the present day, when after a politically and socially intense decade, the State has just proposed to Catalonia – soon it will also propose it to Valencia and the Islands – a singular financing, surely conditioned by a great solidarity.

History had already warned Philip II when he visited his father, Emperor Charles of Habsburg, for the last time in the monastery of Yuste, when he advised him that if he wanted to increase the empire, he should locate the capital in Lisbon, because this would mean linking it to the New World; if he wanted to preserve it, he should locate it in Barcelona, in other words, link it to the classical tradition; and if he wanted to lose it, he should locate the capital in Madrid. And indeed, Madrid was the most poorly communicated capital in Europe until the beginning of the 20th century, when, thanks to the development of airlines and the construction of reservoirs, it managed to revitalise that solitude in the middle of the Castilian plateau.

We return to Newton. And how can we move from a centripetal force to a centrifugal force? Well, this will only be possible if there is a tangential acceleration that allows the velocity modulus of the object to vary and, in this way, it will be able to return to its original physical state. So, will technological innovation bring about an acceleration of the economic movement that, by taking advantage of ‘Open Banking’ and ‘Embedded Finance’, will bring about the tangential force that will make it possible to return to our original stage? It is up to us to achieve this!

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