Lluís Prenafeta, of power in the nightmare

BarcelonaMemory is cruel to details, even the most important ones. Since 1980, Jordi Pujol had a string of electoral victories for twenty-three years. Not all of those years were the same. As is often the case with long-term politicians, the first ones are always the most productive. President Pujol's first decade was one of great achievements, the one that defined and articulated the Generalitat we know today. Back then, Pujol did little and did a lot. From nothing. And right at his side, at that moment of dawn, was a man who would pave the way for him for a decade: Lluís Prenafeta. A man little or much forgotten, because memory is harsh.

Secretary of the Presidency from 1980 to 1990, he was one of the key players in Jordi Pujol's first governments. The key player. He recounted that when they entered the Palau de la Generalitat on their first day—after convincing Josep Tarradellas, "who didn't want to leave even with a scraper"—Pujol laconically told him: "Lluís, the Generalitat is you and me." He realized that same night. The next day, Prenafeta began to move to create everything. In the (long) shadow of the president. Stellar moments for the small humanity that is Catalonia.

Lluís Prenafeta sidestepped all the obstacles to dissolve the Banca Catalana case without taking too much damage, organized the president's most compromising trips, orchestrated the creation of TV3 and Catalunya Ràdio, and experienced the first internal ravages of governments where he felt most like a stick, because at that time, Pujol. This is what the former Secretary of the Presidency explained in the book. The shadow of powerAnd it goes without saying that the shadow was him. Stubborn, determined, decisive, mocking, manifesting, skillful… Prenafeta earned some support (a few) and some opposition (many). Miquel Roca and Josep Antoni Duran i Lleida could fill a book of anecdotes. Of certain coincidences and major disagreements.

One anecdote among a thousand? Josep Cuní recently told it. Without explicitly mentioning his name, Cuní commented in an interview that one day he called a radio station collaborator to reproach him for having asked for a pay raise from someone other than him, and that the request had come to him, well, by chance and "from above." The collaborator was Ramon Barnils; the one "above," Lluís Prenafeta. Combinations that may surprise you now. The shadow didn't spare any feints or complicity.

Back to the sun, Lluís Prenafeta tried to do the Russias –he wanted to get an oil concession with the intercession of Boris Yeltsin and failed–, he tried to face the whole world with The Observer and it didn't work out, he created a burrow of liberalism and Catalanism – the Fundació Catalunya Oberta – and he was right.

The nightmare

However, one bad day, the lights and shadows suddenly disappeared. And the nightmare arrived. On October 27, 2009, when everything was going well and everything was starting to go his way, Baltasar Garzón ordered his arrest, accused in an alleged corruption scheme that the judge called "Pretoria." A reading of the pages that make up the case file makes clear the extent to which Garzón could be arbitrary and unjust. Never mind. The Spanish justice system has since been unraveling all kinds of actions that at the time no one could reproach without being considered just another corrupt person. Lluís Prenafeta pleaded guilty to a final sentence that would have sent him back to prison. He emerged, after a month and a half, devastated. He explains this bitterly in the book. The Nightmare. When reality surpasses fiction. He never fully recovered.

A few months ago, the former secretary wrote a few lines for a tribute to Jordi Pujol. The text ended like this: "President Pujol, I have been and am a devoted legacy of Josep Pla, who introduced me to the roots of the country. With you I loved them." It was Pla who wanted to title the thirty-ninth volume of his complete works. The journey ends. Our journey, President, is coming to an end. It has been an honor to share a decisive part of it with you."

The journey is over. Prenafeta has left behind a few pages—always between the lines—of construction, of affection for the country, of working to regain lost power. Not Pujol's. Catalonia's. Whether as a rival or as an enemy, Lluís Prenafeta was a small giant. Now that politics has diminished so much, it's worth salvaging oblivion and recovering a part of the memory that made us who we are.