25 Jan 2012 Escòcia, regió d’Espanya

Madrid sees the map of stateless nations as a hall of mirrors about to shatter. The most recent expression of this has been triggered by the sovereignty aspirations of the Scottish government, led by Alex Salmond, nationalist leader and First Minister. Salmond wants a referendum on this issue in 2014. According to The Independent, Spanish diplomats have already informed their British counterparts that, if Scotland gained independence, Spain would veto its accession to the European Union. The reason for this is no secret: avoiding internal contagion, preventing Catalans and Basques from following suit and rooting out any precedent which might boost support for a pro-independence hypothesis here in Spain. This methodology is primitive but firm. At international forums, Spain’s  official representatives never support any secessionist process, especially in Europe. This is the case with Kosovo, the new state which Madrid stubbornly refuses to recognise. This same tradition, for example, makes Spain wholeheartedly back Russia in any of the territorial conflicts within this country. A senior official once admitted in private that, when taking part in international meetings where these issues are discussed, his approach was “to look at what the Russian guy does and vote in exactly the same way.”

Given the peculiar worldview of Spanish diplomats, symbolically speaking Kosovo, Chechnya, Quebec, Flanders or Scotland are like regions of Spain. Or – more precisely – regions within their respective states which Madrid must approach with the same caution as the Basque Country and Catalonia. Leaving aside national and ethnic conflicts in war-, poverty- and hunger-ridden countries, any instance of peaceful and democratic independence within a developed society sends alarm-bells ringing within the Spanish political scene. This reaction is very similar to that of Moscow’s rulers, which perhaps says something about the deep psychology of the political elites of states which used to be great empires.

Back in the early 1990s, the Spanish government had little choice but to recognise all the new Central- and Eastern-European states which sprang into existence with the fall of Communism. That was the last wave of independence witnessed by the Old Continent and it brought with it the collapse of the Soviet power. With this, Madrid’s civil servants and politicians warned Catalonia in unequivocal terms not to draw any parallels. However, the then Catalan president Jordi Pujol was not in a position to do so, and instead he uttered a sentence which became a famous quote and gave rise to a lively debate: “Catalonia is like Latvia, but Spain is not like the USSR.” While pointing out these subtle differences, Mr. Pujol – in a display of cunning ambiguity – travelled to Prague and, in full knowledge of the facts, stressed the remarkable historic coincidences between Catalanism and Bohemia’s cultural nationalism.

Distracted by the parade of new flags – only troubled by the disaster in the Balkans -, it has not been stressed enough that the greatest act of national self-determination to take place at the time was, without a doubt, the German reunification, applauded without batting an eyelid by the politicians in the Spanish capital. It is well-known that, for some, there are first- and second-rate nationalisms and that the hunchback does not see his own hump. Why, then, does the self-determination of small nations pose such a threat? It is true that the re-drawing of borders was and still is Europe’s great taboo because it brings to mind the worst and most painful ghosts of the 20th century. However, it cannot be denied either that, three decades after that national thawing, the classical concept of national sovereignty begins to crack in the context of a European Union which needs to rescue the eurozone by pledging its commitment to greater integration and interdependence. The Catalan Party of Europe – as imagined by my good old friend Enric Juliana – will be made up of those who have come to realise that “sovereignties become blurred”, as expressed by a senior official responsible for the politics carried out nowadays from Brussels. But we must not be naive: this blurring of sovereignties does not mean that a nation like Catalonia can easily and immediately be part of the EU without having to use Spain as an intermediary (and one which creates un unbearable fiscal deficit). An example of this attraction which some feel towards a fading world is the proposal on foreign policy which next month’s People Party’s conference will debate. This paper advocates “regaining sovereignty over Gibraltar, which Spain cannot waiver.” Ancient sovereignties, future sovereignties or liquid sovereignties, as Zygmunt Bauman would put it.

While it was true, some years ago, that Spain was not the USSR, we can nowadays state that neither is it the United Kingdom, even if Scotland and Catalonia have many similarities. Quite obviously, the Britons’ political culture has nothing in common with that of the Spaniards’. Notice that, instead of threatening or appealing for the sacred unity of the motherland, David Cameron makes his move: the Scottish referendum should be held as soon as possible and the possibility of the half-way option of fiscal sovereignty – the one favoured by most of the Scottish population – should be removed so that the No vote wins and the matter can be brought to a close. So back to the point: Artur Mas as the champion of the new fiscal agreement resembles the pragmatic Salmond; it is hard, however, to perceive Cameron’s deft touch in any politician in Madrid.