Rosa Lluch: "I spoke with the Basque nationalist left to finish a job my father had been involved in."

BarcelonaOn November 21, 2000, ETA assassinated former Socialist minister Ernest Lluch in Barcelona, ​​in the garage of his home. This Friday marks the 25th anniversary of that assassination, and one of his daughters, Rosa Lluch, director of the history and archaeology department at the University of Barcelona, ​​speaks to ARA.

How do you feel when, 25 years after your father's assassination, he is still being honored?

— I feel immense gratitude that so many people remember him, continue to think about him, and still identify with him. He's a character who has become everyone's, who in no way belongs to us or to anyone in particular. He belongs to everyone.

How do you move on after a murder like that?

— I don't know. I was very clear that I wanted to continue on my path, that I wanted to keep doing what I had started doing. I was 30 years old, my life's trajectory was set. It hasn't been a linear recovery; there are times when you relapse. November is a tough month. Twenty-five years have passed, and you end up living with that death.

He says that sometimes he dissociates the figure of his father from that of Ernesto the politician, whom everyone talks about.

— It's one of the things that has allowed me to overcome everything. My father and the memories I have of him—the man I called father, with whom I could argue and learn—are one thing. And then there's the figure who became everyone's figure. Perhaps he already belonged to everyone a little before, but the fact that he was murdered made him everyone's. If he had died a different death, I don't know if there would have been so much solidarity and recognition.

After Aiete's statement, he decided to speak with members of the Basque nationalist left. What led him to do so?

— To finish a job that had been started, one that my father had been involved in, but which he hadn't finished for obvious reasons. I got involved because I believed the violence had to end, that it was senseless, it never had been, and it was becoming less and less so. It had to be brought to a close in the best way possible, keeping in mind that closures are gradual, that nothing happens overnight, and that it would be a very long process. All of this helped to ease the pain, the grief, the sorrow, because you end up establishing a personal relationship with the person on the other side, whether it's a little or a lot. Therefore, you also humanize the other person and their needs and suffering.

What did it contribute?

— It helped me, but I didn't do it for that reason; I did it because I believed I had to, that it was my duty. If someone comes to you asking if you can lend a hand, as was the case, to end the violence, I feel I had no other option but to say yes. Not because I wanted to, but out of social conscience, conviction, and stoicism. There are times when you have to do what you have to do, even if it's difficult, because these aren't easy tasks.

Would other victims have had to do the same?

— They had done it, or similar things. I, for example, have never had a meeting with a perpetrator, at least not consciously, and other victims have. Everyone should do what they can, what they want, what they feel comfortable with. It's also true that I am Ernest Lluch's daughter, and that he has a name and a power, a symbol, a recognition that other victims don't have. The commando that killed my father killed more people, and more people here in Barcelona on the same days. All of this had to end. It's not just you, but I have a platform and I have the opportunity to speak out. There's also another difference: being a victim of ETA in Catalonia is not the same as being a victim of ETA in the Basque Country; at least in 2000, I don't know about today. Therefore, I will refrain from judging and observing how other victims acted. The day after [the murder], all of Catalonia was in the streets. They told us they were as devastated as we were, that they didn't understand anything, just like us. We heard from Catalonia itself, and this will be very different if you find yourself in an environment where the next day everyone is happy about the misfortune you're going through.

Have you felt the need to talk to your attacker?

— No. I was never offered it and I haven't needed it. I get information, news about it comes up from time to time, but I don't need it.

A few months ago he tweeted, highlighting the recognition received by Pernando Barrena from the Navarrese government for having been tortured.

— Their acknowledgment that they tortured people in the 1980s was very important. It was an acknowledgment that there had been other forms of violence, which doesn't negate the fact that the main violence was perpetrated by ETA—I'm absolutely clear on that. I don't equate them; the main violence came from one side, but we must also recognize that on the other side, lines were crossed that should never have been crossed. And torture, kidnapping, and murder took place. With Pernando, after so many meetings, you establish a minimum level of rapport. States, not just the Spanish state, also make mistakes, just like individuals.

Why doesn't he like to present himself as a victim of terrorism?

— Because I'm not one. The victim of terrorism is my father; I wasn't killed or injured, I didn't see it, I have no memory of it. I'm someone affected by terrorism, but not a victim of terrorism, no matter what the law says. And above all, because I don't think I've ever needed to be. I was very clear that my life would go on, and my life has. I didn't want to be stuck in the role of the victim. But everyone is who they are, and I don't have the heart to judge others. I didn't choose to be a victim; it's not what defines me. Naturally, it has influenced me and my way of thinking, my relationship with certain ideas. But it's not what defines me most.

He also refused to participate in victims' associations.

— The largest associations should take a count of the members who are up-to-date with their dues, those who acknowledge that they are still involved. I only know victims who want to leave these associations but are prevented from doing so. They continue to be counted even though no one ever asks for their opinion. I think victims' associations shouldn't be involved in politics. They should be improving the lives of victims. They shouldn't take political stances. Some have taken a position on abortion. I thought it wouldn't benefit me, and that I wouldn't contribute anything.

He often criticized the right wing for politicizing the victims. Has he ever been able to convey this message?

— I've never been able to tell them. There's none so deaf as those who will not hear. They are fully aware of the harm they are doing to us, and I say this explicitly. I've never been able to tell them because in public they talk a lot about the victims and how they defend them, but they have never contacted me or any other victim I know—and I know quite a few—to ask what they need. When Núñez Feijóo mentions my father's name at a public event, I think that 10 minutes later, or even 10 minutes before, he should have called and asked, "Is he okay? Could he hurt himself?" They don't ask. If they truly care about the victims, they must allow us to grieve, to go through it at our own pace, and above all, they must not use us.

Does he maintain that he doesn't need them to apologize to him?

— Yes, I stand by that. I need the guarantee that they won't hurt me again, but I don't need them to apologize. That's why ETA's disarmament was so important to me, because it meant that no one would ever have to suffer that pain again. If a group that has hurt me disappears as a group, the possibility of them hurting me again disappears. While ETA was killing, it was much harder, because it was like a constant reminder. I also maintain that if there are people who need an apology, they should be asked for it. And not just an apology. Action must be taken: they must apologize and they must never kill again.