Laura Masvidal: ‘They want to frighten us by keeping them in jail’

On August 17 2017 a van drove down Barcelona’s La Rambla aiming to mow down as many people as possible. Only a few hours later, members of the same jihadist cell struck again in Cambrils. They were intercepted and shot dead by Catalan police. Nobody has been able to forget those hours and that day. The dead and the wounded have not been forgotten, either. Nor the fact that the culprits were a group of youngsters raised in Ripoll whose neighbours were under the impression that they led a mostly trouble-free life. Amidst the darkness, the work of the Catalan police and first respondents received much praise, particularly from the general public. Leading them was Catalan minister Joaquim Forn.

Nowadays Joaquim Forn is locked up in a Spanish prison cell. On his request, a court hearing is to be held on Thursday. He intends to refute the charge of violent sedition and ask the judge to reverse his decision to hold him in remand, which Forn believes is unjustified. Together with Forn, pro-independence grassroots leaders Jordi Cuixart and Jordi Sànchez will also be appearing in court. The Supreme Court’s ruling last week to keep Catalan vice president Oriol Junqueras in custody, even though there is no flight risk, has rattled their nerves. In this context Vilaweb has interviewed Laura Masvidal, minister Forn’s wife, who describes the difficult situation which her family is going through. Masvidal does not skirt any questions. She speaks with lucid candour about the unexpected turn of events in her life. A real maelstrom. She asks the public not to remain silent now that some have become emboldened. She calls on civil society to get organised and denounce the situation at every opportunity. Her clarity and serenity are truly unusual. It is best if you read her own words …

—You’ve just visited your husband in prison. How did you find him?
—Joaquim has surprised us positively, he is a strong person. He realises that he can do nothing there, he is keen to get out and is readying his statement for January 11. He is calm because he has a clear conscience and that brings him peace and strength. He actually calms us down. During our visits we end up sorting out the logistics, because visits are limited and you need to make the most of the available time. He tells us anecdotes of his life in prison. He writes them down so he doesn’t forget them. He always tries to learn something new from his experiences and turn them into something positive. When I leave, it’s always a tremendous shock and I get very angry. I despair when I see that he is stuck in there. The last time we saw each other without a glass partition, with our children and a sister-in-law, it was more relaxed.

—Do you need to learn to relate to each other in that environment?
—Even though we have been married for a long time, the distance means you find many resources which you didn’t know you had in you. Still, intimacy is something that gets eroded slowly. Phone calls are four minutes long and the call gets cut off after that. We both say we are fine, but we know that’s not really true. Every time I hang up, I get very upset and he must feel the same way. When I visit with friends, it is less obvious. But when we meet by ourselves, in a freezing prison room with a bunk, in what is supposed to be an intimate setting … you are afraid of showing intimacy because you don’t want to break down. We read each other between the lines and stay strong. As a couple, it is very tough. It’s ok if the time in prison prior to the trial is short, but otherwise it might damage what we have. Our family is our strength. I am outraged because this is very unfair.

—Not long ago it was your twenty-fifth wedding anniversary …
—When I approached our priest about doing something at church, there were two possibilities. One: that Joaquim might have been released by then and we might give thanks. The other, to say a prayer during a service, if he was still locked up. Once I realised that he would still be in jail, I rang him and said: “Now that we know where we stand, let’s do the prayer”. It got a bit out of hand because people love him very much and they came along in droves to show their heartfelt support. Many people turned up. I am very glad we did it. It gave me a lot of strength. Joaquim is a person of peace. We have discussed it many times: his political action and public service are, in part, the result of his Christian humanistic calling. As an individual, he has faith.

—Getting to Estremera prison can’t be easy.
—If you drive to Estremera, it’s heavy going because it means many hours behind the wheel for the sake of a forty-minute visit, with a glass partition that separates you, as well. It’s more comfortable to travel by train because you can get some work done and make the most of the journey. When I go by train, I hire a car at the station and drive to Estremera, and the other way round on my return journey. I barely have a chance to have lunch because time is tight. Now that he has been transferred to a different wing, we can visit him on Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning at 10. If you aim for Sunday, you need to spend Saturday night locally or else you won’t make it. Anyway, all the prison logistics is something from the 19th century. The other day I was discussing that with minister Romeva, his former cell mate, and he explained that they were expected to fill in forms using three carbon copy sheets. Can you imagine? Carbon copies. Then, once you have completed the request form, it takes five or six days before getting a reply from the prison management. That’s how you get what happened to bishop Novell, from Solsona: even though he had every permit, when he got to Estremera the prison director denied him entrance. It’s all very absurd. For instance, Joaquim asked us to get him some music, but we’ve had to forget about it. It seems that it’s a huge problem. They can’t have any music in that prison. They are not allowed access to any electronic devices while on remand awaiting trial.

—Were you mentally prepared for a situation like this?
—Obviously, we had discussed many things. One thing is to imagine it, but when it actually happens … I used a comparison with Joaquim. I told him that this is like when you are afraid of having some serious medical conditions which you know that statistically you could get one day. Thinking that you might become ill one day is very different from getting an actual diagnostic. And he said “You can’t compare that. Being ill is much worse”. Indeed. He is absolutely right.

—When you came back from Brussels you had a very unpleasant incident at the airport with a group of far-right militants, you had no protection …
—It was most unpleasant. But we have experienced so many difficult situations in such a short time that I prefer to think about the good stuff. On new year’s eve everyone kept saying “Hopefully this year will be better because 2017 was horrific”. I stopped to think about their words. It was hard for me before the arrests because I had injured my knee badly in an accident. I was in a wheelchair until June and could not go back to work until September. Sill, I like to think that even though 2017 was horrible, we have experienced some beautiful things which will stay with us forever and won’t be forgotten.

—What would you include on the plus list?
—As a human group, we have had some very nice experiences and we are still enjoying them, despite our personal situation. It is very touching for me to see the reaction of Catalans. Sometimes, when I visit, Joaquim gives me a stack of letters. On some journeys back on the fast train we read some of those from people that we don’t know. They come from all over the world. Some Catalans write from the bottom of their heart, others use irony, some people send him drawings, poems … As a people, we are having an indescribable time that has brought us together, has given us an identity and made us stronger. I don’t want to stop looking on the bright side of it all. Since Joaquim was sent to prison, I have been making a note of the bad stuff in my bad books, but also making a list of all the beautiful, positive things. The list keeps growing and growing.

—Could you mention some of those positive things?
—I have become friends with all the residents in our apartment block, regardless of their ideas. This has nothing to do with one’s ideas. People love Joaquim as their neighbour and they appreciate him. These sincere shows of love from people who think it’s unfair for him to be in jail are good. Some people say they’ve got into arguments. I haven’t. Some of my friends do not hold the same views as we do, by they have stood by my side at all times. One of our daughters had a different experience, but she has been able to have a friendly discussion … Ultimately, that has also made us stronger. These days Joaquim told us: “Celebrate Christmas and think about its meaning. Some inmates are very lonely here. I understand that being locked up I will not be able to spend it with you, but I have you. Our friends have given us an extraordinary response, everyone is showing their support, I am not alone”.

—From then onwards, things have become much harder for you.
—I am very hopeful that Joaquim will get out. In principle, the law is supposed to work and we have engaged the services of an excellent professional who is taking care of his legal counsel. In theory that should make me feel at ease. But when you see that their argument is that he may stir up violent clashes [if they set him free], my hair stands up on end. Joaquim is a very peaceful man. I do not see any risk of violence at all. What other risk can they claim? Flight? He came back from Brussels [to appear in court when he was summoned]. I told him to stay abroad …

—You didn’t want him to come back?
—On impulse, and without thinking about it, I told him: “Don’t come back. Wait there”. Now I don’t know what I would say. It’s really tough that they had to leave and stay abroad. I’m not sure about the whole thing …

—When you came in you mentioned how perplexed you are by this situation.
—Yes, I’m perplexed by what I hear them say. They have put together a series of talking points to justify keeping him in jail. I can’t see them respecting the principle of In dubio pro reo [presumed innocence], I can’t see it, it’s not happening. The judge should rule on facts, not opinions. Joaquim has never been coy about his. Everyone knows his opinions and nobody hides them. Whether he is willing to uphold the law, is a different matter. He believes in the rule of law … Keeping someone on remand pending trial is unjustified. Now he has requested to be heard in court about the substance of the matter. I am certain that when the judge hears him, he will be released. But, of course, that’s just me.

—You have denounced that a friend had been warned for having explained the situation of the Catalan prisoners and you said that we shouldn’t keep quiet, that we shouldn’t just grin and bear it.
—Yes, a friend of mine who is a university professor gave a lecture and at the end he added that “Today some people are missing. I have friends in prison …”. That’s called academic freedom. But the presenter or chair admonished him. All that reminds me of stuff which I had been told about and I never thought I would see myself. When we must watch our own words and censor ourselves, when we tolerate very harmful situations, that’s when I think that perhaps we have been quiet for too long. That’s what my mum tells me. It didn’t happen overnight that so many of us began to make certain demands. This movement is growing because there is a growing feeling of being treated unjustly. That’s why I say that: if we feel that some situations are unfair and we do not feel we are being treated properly, it is time we said so. Myself, I have kept my mouth shut many times at school and university. When I was studying law, asking for lectures in Catalan was a big deal: not only was it impossible to have our lessons taught in Catalan, but many students were abusive towards us. We have felt small for far too long. That can’t happen again. And if people think that a situation is unfair, that we are being treated unfairly, that prison without bail is outrageous, then we should say so everywhere.

—Are you afraid that we might get used to the current state of affairs?
—Something as embarrassing as this can’t possibly become normal. I intend to remain an activist. I won’t accomplish anything by myself. We can’t remain outraged forever, we would regress otherwise. We must channel our outrage positively. We must get organised. Now they are questioning our right to hold meetings. It boggles the mind. That’s precisely what Catalonia pioneered. Many times civil society led the way ahead of politics: in culture, art, education … this society has tremendous value.

—But sometimes people make a huge effort, for example to attend a rally in Brussels. And when the crackdown goes on, they feel impotent.
—We certainly feel impotent. But it’s a feeling. I want to tell the people that we have the power. They want to frighten us by keeping them in jail. They think we must all be taught a lesson, that we should be afraid and think that none of this was worth our while and we should go back to what they regard as “law and order”. I no longer know if I can speak or not, but I do know that we mustn’t allow that. Wanting freedom, wanting culture and wanting to manage things better on your own cannot be a crime and cannot be banned.

—Do you get the feeling that because of your ideas your life is different from the life of someone who agrees with the Spanish authorities?
—I certainly do. I don’t quite understand news outlets, either, and I feel hurt by them. Obviously they are all free to give their opinion, but lying and smearing are unacceptable. It’s unacceptable that Spanish people should see things in a certain way because they have been fed no end of lies. I need to tell them that. Many people I know who have family in Spain are very upset. They say it is hard to understand how their Spanish relatives would rather believe what they hear on telly than what their own family tells them. I want to reach out to them. Journalists shouldn’t be spreading lies.

—In August you had a front row seat when the terrorist attacks happened. It is shocking to see in jail the Catalan minister whose work everyone praised under such testing circumstances.
—Something awful happened in Catalonia last August. But so much has happened since then that we have not been able to find closure yet. That’s not on. What happened was awful. When you look at Joaquim now, despite his current situation, he looks relaxed. In August he was very tense. Having to handle the events in August, when he’d only been appointed a month earlier, was a shock to his system. It’s a good thing he was not off on holiday. Although he is strong, he is also very sensitive. He suffered a lot because of the attack on La Rambla and he acted responsibly. At work he always relies on team efforts. The Mossos d’Esquadra [Catalonia’s police force] were totally ready and our first respondents are a model in Europe. Joaquim is a generator of teams. He loves working closely with people and he kept the experts in the limelight. Spain’s law enforcement felt very uncomfortable. I don’t want to think that this is retribution for Joaquim handling that situation the way he was supposed to. My mind cannot and will not process that sort of thing, although some have mentioned it to me. I couldn’t put up with that. Any police officer should be glad when other law enforcement agencies do well.

—When did you begin to support Catalan independence?
—I’ve been pro-secession from a young age in a matter-of-fact way. I couldn’t tell you why. At home many things were not discussed. My mum has opened a drawer that she had never opened before. Her parents had opposed Franco during the 1936-39 war and they didn’t have an easy time. My grandma was jailed with my mum, her daughter, when she was still a baby for having taught ERC girls how to sew. When the Catalan government recognised the civil servants from Republican times, my mum began to broach the subject. She never had before. They started mentioning stuff, but very little. Mum was a prudent woman. Whenever I told her that I was going to a demo, she always used to say: Watch out! Now she’d be at the head of any march. As I said, she has opened a drawer and she is beginning to realise how awful what her parents went through must have been, so awful that they preferred not to discuss it. She is living the present moment as if we were back in the days of General Franco.

—It’s truly impressive to see how they used to be gripped by fear but no more.
—That’s true, fear no longer stops them.

—Does is strike you that fear has vanished?
—It makes me very hopeful. It means that we can only move forward. Now we know where we are.

—I read that in 1991 [just before the Barcelona Olympics] you were detained outside the olympic stadium for carrying a “Freedom for Catalonia” banner.
—I don’t recall that. At the opening ceremony of the olympic stadium I had a Catalan flag and the police officers at the entrance said I wasn’t allowed to go in with such a big flag, that I should tear it up. I refused to and they said they’d seize it. I replied that I’d be back to collect it at the end. When I returned, besides being humiliated like you wouldn’t believe, they said that they’d thrown it into a rubbish bin because the Catalan flag was rubbish and that is where it belonged. I was very young at the time and couldn’t believe my ears: what? they’d put it in a bin? They told me to file a complaint, which I tried to do, but they were having none of it. So I went to a police court to lodge my complaint. Later I received a court summons for staging a disorderly protest and people at work asked me “What have you done?” I had done nothing wrong, I only wanted to go into the stadium with a Catalan flag. That day I began to intuit that something was wrong in this country. We do not hide our past, but our opinions cannot land us in jail.

—The families of Catalan political prisoners and those in exile have set up an association for civil rights.
—People want to help us and it’s important that they know about this association. When a family’s main breadwinner winds up jobless and in jail or exile, it is a heavy blow for them. The association belongs to all its current members and any future ones. It is a long list. Travelling to Estremera is expensive. I have to get time off work, my daughter has to skip school, buying three or four fast train tickets, hiring a car. Imagine those who are having to travel to Brussels. It amounts to a lot. The solidarity fund raised money for bail bonds but, of course, legal fees also have to be paid. All legal counsel is very expensive. People ought to know that the Associació pels Drets Civils [Association for Civil Rights] accepts donations to cover the expenses incurred due to our situation: essentially, travel expenses, lodging and food, plus the solidarity fund to pay for bail.

—Is it a bleak outlook, then?
—It’s looking increasingly bleak. They said they were giving us a tool (a democratic election), but that was a lie because we are not allowed to do anything. It’s like a fiction that we all must accept, and this is where we stand and they will tell us how to move forward on the board. They should also give us a hint to help us get out. We are growing angrier and angrier.