How is it that a country whose economic performance, human development and democratic integrity have improved so vastly over the past four decades is now dealing with one of Europe’s worst territorial and constitutional crises?

The answer isn’t the economy. Spain, and particularly Catalonia, is growing faster than most European countries. It isn’t a deep ethnolinguistic conflict either. The relationship between Catalan and Spanish speakers is exemplary.


Ideas are the problem. Two pernicious myths are at the root of the current stalemate. The first, shared by Catalan separatists and the global leftwing intelligentsia alike, is that Spain’s government has historically been highly authoritarian and centralist. The second, a commonplace among Spanish unionists and right-leaning thinkers worldwide, is that hawks handle such crises better than doves do.
The view of Spanish central government as an oppressor fuelled the Catalan separatist movement from the start. And this perspective has also permeated much of the international coverage of any conflict in Catalonia. But Spain was never the centralised and absolutist kingdom portrayed in, for instance, comparisons between the British and Spanish empires. Quite the contrary; as economic historians such as Regina Grafe have convincingly shown, Spain was a highly decentralised state where policies emerged as a result of bargaining between different factions.
From its inception Spain was a pluralist political endeavour. Rulers from tiny Christian states, although in constant competition with each other, granted large freedoms to the settlers of the territories reconquered from the Arabs. It is no coincidence that the first example of modern parliamentarism in the history of western Europe was the Cortes of León in 1188. Spanish cities and regions enjoyed self-governing capacities unknown in other countries. They exerted a veto over central government’s policies.
Both the successes and failures of modern Spain owe much to this pervasive legacy. On the one hand, the coexistence of different regional regulations and taxes made the creation of a unified economic market very difficult. On the other, territorial diversity encouraged the push and pull of the competition and cooperation that have driven the extraordinary progress of Spain ever since the restoration of democracy with the 1978 constitution.
The positive spillovers of these historic freedoms go beyond the economic sphere. Spaniards have a healthily sceptical view of power. This anti-elitism can be seen in the daily (and nightly) life of any town, where people from different social classes share conversations in bars and restaurants. It can also be seen in Spain’s political life. In the past, economic hardship promoted bottom-up libertarian movements, from the anarchists to the indignados, rather than far-right authoritarian ones. Likewise, Spain is an open country that has successfully integrated millions of immigrants without giving rise to a xenophobic party; it is one of the world’s most tolerant societies towards sexual minorities.

Yet instead of selling this triumph of diversity, the Spanish government has reacted to Catalan separatism with clumsily implemented aggression. As a result, Madrid has managed to appear both repressive and ineffective. Prime minister Mariano Rajoy could have allowed the Catalans to vote in a referendum that lacked basic democratic credentials and would have never been recognised by the international community. Indeed, this is what he did in 2014, when the separatists organised an illegal referendum. This time Rajoy chose not to turn a blind eye.
The decision looked sound from a cold, rational perspective. If a central government hesitates before a separatist threat, let alone offers concessions, that sends a signal of weakness. But we have now reached a heated, emotional moment. Sending thousands of police officers to close polling stations created opportunities for violence. The images of elderly women bleeding after trying to cast their votes on Sunday have naturally infuriated separatists and many other Spaniards besides. And they have prompted many Catalans who were initially opposed to the referendum to change sides.

Rajoy’s move could not have been more counterproductive. The political-bureaucratic elite that controls the ruling conservative Partido Popular (People’s party) has failed to understand that a modern state depends not on the monopoly of violence, but on the monopoly of legitimacy.
Two characteristics make the Catalan problem particularly difficult. First, Catalan society is so evenly divided that an independent Catalonia is as improbable as the disappearance of separatism from the political agenda. Second, secessionism has stronger support among the politically influential Catalan upper-middle classes than among disadvantaged socioeconomic groups.
Events in Catalonia have implications for Europe. It’s unlikely that Catalan separatism will propel similar secessionist challenges. No other separatist movement, apart from that of Scotland, has the popular and organisational support. Yet it’s likely that Spain’s internal turmoil will escalate, triggering an international crisis by forcing major diplomatic players to take sides. We are far from the incendiary secessionist tensions of former communist countries, from the Balkans to Ukraine. But we are moving in that direction.
All of this feels unnecessary. But it is what happens when false narratives poison a relatively good democracy.
• Victor Lapuente Giné is an associate professor of political science at the University of Gothenburg, Sweden, and a columnist for El País