In diversity policies, work is almost always done out of social urgency, often imposed by external causes. But today we need to talk about a different urgency, one that is born from our own deficits: what I call the Factor M (migration factor) of Catalonia's collective memory.Catalonia has just reached the historic milestone of 8 million inhabitants. It is a far-reaching transformation, but also a direct challenge: can everyone really feel part of this "us"? Can those who don't see their history reflected anywhere say "we are 8 million"?This urgency is manifested in three deep divides that segment our society:1. Neighborhood emptiness. The founders of our neighborhoods —those migrants from the 50s and 60s— are building their memory of heroic struggle. This history, however, seems to end with them. Today, these neighborhoods are full of new international migrants who have been giving them life for more than two decades, but who live parallel lives. They share the space, but not the history; they do not come to be fully recognized as neighbors, nor do they join associations to "build the neighborhood." This demographic change is often experienced with resistance and distrust, a scenario that feeds those who want to create fragmentation.2. The academic void. If we take the history books of Catalonia, migrations are practically non-existent; it's as if they never happened. How can we educate in a sense of belonging if the official narrative ignores the roots of more than half of the class? The children of Moroccans, Filipinos, or Ecuadorians, who are Catalans, are they not part of our history? If school explains a history to them where they appear as anomalies, we are telling them they are subordinates, not protagonists of the country where they live.3. The political vacuum. We are witnessing the advent of highly mixophobic parties that manipulate data to invent a past of non-existent homogeneity. They seek a society that does not negotiate with diversity, but rather criminalizes it, evoking past times of persecution against minorities. This discourse gains followers precisely because there is no solid public narrative about the memory of migrations — the M Factor — to contradict it.We must be brave in self-criticism: the national identity we are building cannot leave anyone behind. Catalanism cannot be an exclusive project, reserved for an elite that looks at diversity from a distance. Because without memory, identity is fragile: an identity without memory is not identity. If a citizen does not find their trajectory reflected in the official narrative, in history museums, or in the nomenclature, they will hardly feel that Catalonia's future project is also theirs. Memory is not just remembering; it is recognizing ourselves as equals in the craft of history.

The German invasion of Poland on September 1, 1939, was a spark in a context already saturated with tensions, rigid alliances (with me or against me), and powers willing, or perhaps even resigned, to enter into total conflict. Today, however, although the world remains dangerous and unstable, the logic of military escalation is not the same. Therefore, even in the face of aggressions as serious as the Russian invasion of Ukraine or the US attack on Iran, nothing resembling the start of World War III has occurred. Like it or not, a key element remains nuclear deterrence. Since 1945, the major powers have known that a direct conflict could lead to a nuclear brawl with apocalyptic consequences. This awareness has created a system of mutual restraint that, paradoxically, makes it unlikely that certain wars will escalate. In the case of Ukraine, both NATO and Russia have carefully calibrated their actions to avoid a direct confrontation. They have also measured the language used to refer to the possible use of these terrible weapons, even in the case of a verbally incontinent person like Trump.

The Barcelona Prosecutor's Office has closed the torture investigation to the activist and philologist Blanca Serra, the first victim who went directly to the Prosecutor's Office for Historical Memory and not to the courtsThus, she is recognized as a victim of Francoism, and this is done for the first time based on the 2022 Democratic Memory Law. Blanca Serra and her sister, the historian Eva Serra – who died in 2018 – were detained at the Via La7 police station in 1982. The investigation concludes that during their arrest in February 1977, they suffered "torture perpetrated in a context of crimes against humanity." The Public Prosecutor's Office adds that the Political-Social Brigade arrested them solely for their political activity opposing the dictatorship and that they "inflicted physical and psychological violence on them to obtain information and a confession, which caused them traumatic aftereffects." All of this occurred within a context of persecution and political repression established by Francoism, the Public Prosecutor's Office adds in a statement.

The High Court of Justice of Madrid (TSJM) has rejected granting the urgent precautionary measures requested by the Francisco Franco National Foundation to immediately halt its outlawing, promoted by the Spanish governmentThis is stated in an interlocutory ruling, to which ARA has had access, in which the court argues that there are no "reasons of urgency." The decision is subject to appeal.

The proposed project by the Barcelona City Council and the Catalan Government to build a Provincial Court building on the current "historic site" of the city (Passeig Lluís Companys, 1-5) is a complete absurdity. And it is absurd both in terms of its content and its procedure.

If the PP leaders are bothered by being labeled the ideological heirs of Francoism, they'd better get used to it. They will be considered as such, and more than deservedly so, as long as they make such government decisions.anti-democratic, vengeful, and painfullike the one that prevailed, with the votes of Vox and the PP itself, in the plenary session of the Catalan Parliament on Tuesday, March 10.democratic memory lawThe law, finally repealed in this session after several back-and-forths of low-level political maneuvering, was not a law against anyone, but a reparations law that offered, after more than eighty years of pain and oblivion, recognition to the victims of Francoism and their families. Destroying this law and trying to justify it with subterfuge (for example, that it wasn't necessary because a state law already exists on the same matter, an absurd way of trying to evade the issue) fails to conceal the reality: the victims of Francoism are being attacked again out of pure vengeance. The People's Party (PP) may not be willing to say it this way, but the Vox deputies are making it perfectly clear with their interventions and actions in the Catalan Parliament. The erratic interventions of spokesperson Sergio Rodríguez, or the fits of rage from President Gabriel Le Senne, are unacceptable mockery in the seat of sovereignty of a people who believe in democracy and want to live in it. Fascism is never compatible with democracy: it parasitizes it and exploits its very nature (democracy cannot deny anyone freedom of expression or the right to vote) to destroy it from within and spread its message of hatred and revenge. The Spanish nationalist right already won the Civil War and is eager to win it again: the spirit guiding the dismantling of the Memory Law is nothing other than a poorly disguised, if not entirely disguised, civil war mentality.

From cross-border routes of the Republican exile, which follow the same paths that thousands of people took clandestinely on foot during the Civil War, from Portbou to Maçanet de CabrenysThere are a lot of them. Over the last few years, the Democratic Memorial of the Generalitat of Catalonia, in collaboration with the municipalities of Alt Empordà, has worked to study and properly mark them. However, a new one has now been added to the list, which, for the first time, has also been marked in collaboration with the Occitan administrations. The first democratic memory route carried out jointly with Northern Catalonia.

Figueres was dubbed the Catalan Guernica because of the high number of deaths caused by fascist bombings during the Spanish Civil War. In the midst of one of the deadliest bombing raids, in Plaça del Gra, a nurse found little Elena crying desperately among the mutilated bodies and rubble. The girl threw herself into the nurse's arms as bombs continued to rain down on the civilian population. Elena was located years later in the French town of Fumel, where the nurse had taken her in, believing she had been orphaned. The little girl was able to return to her parents, but she could never forget the noise of the planes and bombs over the city, nor, of course, the nurse who had saved her and cared for her like a daughter. Like a nightmare, the drone of the aircraft was also forever etched in the memories of the protagonists of the six stories told in the play. Noise of airplanesWritten by Manel Puig, directed by Àngels Barrientos and Maria Rosa Oliveres, and performed by actors from two amateur theater companies, the play, consisting of six monologues—one for each of the six stories told—has been a great success in Castelló d'Empúries and Llançà, where every performance has sold out. It begins a tour of several towns in the Empordà region this January. According to Manel Puig, the play's success stems from the fact that "instead of focusing on the war at the front, soldiers against soldiers, it deals with the suffering of civilians on the home front," based on the experiences of six real people. Puig also maintains that presenting these experiences of the Spanish Civil War through theater allows "historical memory to reach the public more easily, especially young people."

"Praised be the most holy sacrament"," the nun would announce loudly in the middle of the dormitory in the morning. And they, half asleep in bed and with their eyes still stuck shut with sleep, would answer in unison mechanically:May He be forever blessed and praised"The nuns would wake them up like that day after day. Maria Forns remembers it perfectly, even though it was more than half a century ago. She was 16 years old when she was placed in a convent against her will.

Bagdad is always there. With its imposing sign, almost dazzling lighting, the obviously Arabic inspiration in its decorations and accessories, and the iconic image of the girl emerging from Aladdin's lamp. It's been around for fifty years. Yes, this December Bagdad turns half a century old. Today it's essentially a tourist attraction, which in turn is a driving force for the neighborhood where it's located, the indomitable Paral·lel, the avenue of theaters and entertainment that has seen better decades, a time of splendor that many long to revive. The revitalization of El Molino and the perennial project to reopen Arnau are epiphanies yet to be fulfilled. Joana lives on the neighboring Vila i Vilà street and remembers the times when Paral·lel was a cauldron, a hive of energy in contact. And Bagdad? It has never been inside, but it is loved all the same as an essential part of the everyday landscape of its almost lifelong surroundings.

The fifty years of the Spanish monarchy holding the head of state have fractured the right-wing bloc. The event, intended to commemorate the half-century of the Bourbons' rule since the death of Francisco Franco, will be boycotted by the far-right Vox party. Santiago Abascal's party announced on Tuesday that it will not participate and will once again snub King Felipe VI. "We are not going to participate in the farce that the government has prepared, which is an ode to Sánchez's totalitarian regime," stated Vox spokesperson in the lower house, Pepa Millán, who avoided commenting on the dictator. In her opinion, this event and the rest of those scheduled for this 50th anniversary of Franco's death are not "a tribute to democracy, the Transition, or the rule of law." In fact, the far-right party made it clear in mid-October that it would not participate in any event with the Spanish government where it could not denounce its alleged "criminal and corrupt actions." Aside from Vox's boycott, the absence of Sumar, Podemos, ERC, Junts, EH Bildu, the PNV, and also the BNG and Coalición Canaria will be repeated. Therefore, the commemoration of the 50th anniversary of the restoration of the monarchy in Congress will be incomplete: initially, only the PSOE and PP will attend, while the rest of the parliamentary spectrum will be absent.

Near Girona's train station, there's a square that welcomes travelers with cobblestones and centuries-old plane trees, home to hundreds of starlings. Most locals know it as "Bar Núria Square," a kiosk-licensed establishment frequented by early risers and those who stay out late. But what few Girona residents know is that the square's real name, Poeta Marquina, honors a Barcelonan who had no connection to Girona and who, after the war, became one of the leading figures in Falangist propaganda. He was also the author of the first official lyrics to the Spanish national anthem. Royal MarchCommissioned by Alfonso XIII. The older residents still remember that it was formerly called "Plaza del Carril" (Railway Square). The French train station was located in the section closest to the elevated tracks, until the viaduct was built in 1974. The current cobblestones bear witness: they exist because a large part of the square is still owned by Adif, the Spanish railway infrastructure manager. Now the square is in the news following the Girona City Council's failed project to change the name of Poeta Marquina, which the Francoist council imposed during the post-war period, over the popular name of "Plaza del Carril." The owners of the shops and apartments who participated in the referendum held just before the Feria de Abril (Fair) responded with a No The vote was overwhelmingly in favor of changing the street names. Turnout was very low, at 22.52%, but the result was clear: only 16 people voted in favor of the name change and 34 voted against it. In a press conference, the Councilor for Ecological Transition and Urban Planning, Sergi Font, considered it "a shame to let slip the opportunity to erase a Francoist name." The result has now been submitted to the Naming Commission, which must make a final decision, but Font had already emphasized that the result was decisive and should be taken into account.

This week, RTVE has released a short documentary film entitled At ground level about the so-called early exhumations of Franco-era graves. The broadcast was accompanied by a special moderated by Xabier Fortes. Both programs can be found on the RTVE Play platform.

Walking through the main streets of pre-Eixample Barcelona can be unpleasant due to its safety, dirt, and neglect. We can understand that the demographic and tourist pressure to which they are exposed makes it difficult to always keep them in perfect condition. What I find incomprehensible is the obsession with hiding their best features and what they represent. Everyone will have walked past the building at the end of La Rambla, going down to the left, whose possible uses have been much discussed. References are always to "the cannon foundry." There's a plaque commemorating it for both citizens and tourists.

In the very long term, forgetting is inevitable and even reasonable: it's good for wounds to cauterize. It's quite another thing to shorten their time, to force forgetfulness out of self-interest. In political terms, forgetting then ceases to be reasonable and can easily transform into irresponsibility. Let me propose an extreme example. Caesar's campaign in ancient Ilerda, present-day Lleida, was a crucial episode in the Second Roman Civil War in 49 BC. It happened very close to my town, all of that, but I would be incapable of declaring myself a supporter of Caesar, his rival Pompey, or the Ilerget leaders. There, on the banks of the same river, the Segre, which the Romans called Sícoris (Verdaguer still speaks of the golden Sycoris), the beginning of the fall of Catalonia at the end of the Civil War also became effective. In January 1938, the Republican military defense had been decapitated in Seròs, seven kilometers from Granja de Escarpe, and Colonel Juan Perea ordered the abandonment of the line of fortifications. My mother came into the world a few days later, in the midst of that chaotic and desperate atmosphere. What happened next is sufficiently well known and assumed as their own... bysome generations. For others, this knowledge is beginning to feel very schematic, or at worst, nonexistent, as can be seen in certain nonsense spread today by the acne-stricken far right. Despite referring to the same place, this second oversight has no justification; we'll see in a thousand years.

Madagascar will receive next Sunday three human skulls that the French government handed over this week, complying, for the first time, with the 2023 law requiring the return of human remains for a proper burial. It has been 128 years since French troops, in the midst of their colonial conquest of the western African island, massacred the Sakalava ethnic group, killing and decapitating King Ampanjaka Toera. The skulls of the monarch and two of his warriors were subsequently transported to Paris and have been on display for years at the French capital's Museum of Natural History.

Catalan society has long struggled, through memorial and human rights organizations, for a public policy on memory that reflects the suffering experienced, the truth that is still denied, and the democratic future we seek to build. This struggle has been constant, cross-cutting, and persistent. And, among all the demands, one stands out with symbolic force: the redefinition of the building at 43 Via Laietana.

It's already in the BOE: The Via Laietana police station in Barcelona has been declared a space of democratic memory by the Spanish government, Which means they'll put up plaques stating that torture was practiced there, but the National Police that occupies the building will not be relocated. Because, for the State, this isn't about memory but about power, specifically about the display and exercise of power, about continuing to have a Spanish flag hanging from a highly visible balcony in the capital of Catalonia, lest someone forget who's in charge here. The National Police were replaced by the Mossos d'Esquadra (Catalan police force), and therefore, Minister Bolaños's argument that the officers will not leave because it's a "very important, central, and necessary police station for the regulation of citizen security" is a pure fallacy.

The Via Laietana police station is now formally a memory space, but will continue to host the Spanish National Police. Official State Gazette (BOE) this Tuesday published the Spanish government's resolution by which "the building located at Via Laietana, 43", headquarters of the Politico-Social Brigade during the Franco regime, is declared a "site of democratic memory". Contrary to what the memorial entities claimed and the Catalan parties, however, the formal resignification of the leadership will not imply the transfer of the Spanish police.

Today marks eighty-nine years since the coup d'état in which the fascists and a portion of the Spanish army took up arms against the democratic and legitimate government of the Republic. We must begin by writing this down, which for a long time has been considered obvious, because it has begun to cease to be so. Stories blur, ideas are distorted. Denialism is the first step of far-right, authoritarian, illiberal thinking. First, they deny the existence of what bothers them; then, even though they claim it doesn't exist, the drive to destroy it appears. The memory of the Civil War is, for the Spanish far right (that of Vox, but also that of a good portion of the PP), a bastion to conquer, a banner they also need to take from the left. The Reds, the left-handed people, as they call it now, adopting the open war language of Milei and the Latin American far right. The reds, the left-handed people, all those people who hate so much.