When the sixth anniversary of the Catalan independence referendum was celebrated on October 1st, we looked back and realized how things have changed since that historic day. It is hard to comprehend the way that time passes - we commented to each other - and it seemed to us that everything had flown by quickly since then. The velocity is relative if viewed from the perspective of exile. From the geographical and emotional distance of Belgium, that same period of time has passed slowly. Very slowly. Too slowly.
In May 2018, Josep Miquel Arenas Beltran - Valtònyc - had to emigrate to Brussels. In secret. The next day, the Spanish state wanted him to enter prison, accused of glorifying terrorism and insulting the Crown (this, when the insult to the citizenry is the Crown itself). He had to make one of those decisions you never think you'll have to make. And he did so to avoid going into a cell and to be able to defend the cause of freedom of expression from Europe. He left with pain in his heart but his head held high, just as he has returned.
Sentenced to three and a half years in prison for his song lyrics (and let's not forget that Pablo Hasél is still behind bars for the same reason), the Mallorcan rapper was 24 years old when the network of his friends helped him escape, giving the slip to spies and officers. The deadline to turn himself in was approaching and hundreds of supporters bought plane tickets in his name to different destinations, in a successful campaign to mislead the police. "Solidarity is the best weapon we have against power, repression and abuse", he declared just yesterday when he arrived in Mallorca, his so longed-for land.
For more than five years Valtònyc has been unable to leave Belgium, while the Bourbon king, who he supposedly insulted, has come and gone for yacht races and other ostentatious occasions
It has been more than five years in which he has been unable to leave Belgium, while the Bourbon king, who he supposedly insulted, has come and gone to the jailer state from time to time, for yacht races and other ostentatious occasions. In Brussels, Josep was free, yes, but far from fully. Free within borders. Always looking in the rear-view mirror in case the Spanish justice system and its arrest warrants were there. Or in case he was able to spot the profile of his island home reflected there far away. I doubt very much that any of us can put ourselves in the shoes of someone who has to live locked inside a country that is not theirs. Someone who lives in exile. "In exile", as if that were a country.
"The first thing I want to do is hug my grandma," he said. A hug to his grandmother that, unfortunately, he will no longer be able to give to his mother, who died in 2021. This is another hurtful sentence: that of the family that disappears without you being able to say goodbye to them because of the distance or the prison bars, as happened to president Puigdemont and the minister Turull with their respective fathers and the minister Lluís Puig with his mother. Or the case of Pere Comín who, seeing that his time was approaching, travelled to Leuven so that he could die beside his brother Toni and with the whole family together. In peace they all rest, the peace that those who have allowed and caused this should never find.
His return is incomplete "because we are not all there"
Valtónyc's longed-for journey of return lasted 17 hours by road, in a car driven - among others and taking turns - by fellow exiles, such as Puig or Puigdemont themselves. With you, we all return a little, declared the president-in-exile, but what matters most to Valtònyc is that his return is incomplete "because we are not all there". In 2019, when the singer-songwriter Joan Baez visited Carme Forcadell in prison and invited me to go with her, as we left the penitentiary we looked at each other with sadness: What's wrong? - I asked her - That we are leaving and she must stay, she replied. We held hands and turned our heads to see as the silhouette of the beloved speaker of Parliament was lost behind the barred door of the women's module, just as the outlines of those who cannot yet return are lost.
The song by Amics de les Arts says that 'Coming back is the best part of the adventure', a phrase used by Josep Miguel Arenas himself to announce on social media that his exile was over.
Josep, about to turn 30, returns to the Catalan-speaking lands with his crimes now prescribed - it is not that the Spanish state has rectified its position - but now he has a new threat on the horizon: on November 21st he faces a new trial, in Sevilla, for an alleged hate crime against the Civil Guard. We await to see what will happen. As Sebastià Alzamora said in 2022 in an article in the newspaper Ara: "Valtónyc is free, Spain is not".