Where will Barcelona and Espanyol play if Catalonia gets independence?
With 80% of Catalan voters keen to leave Spain, Barcelona and Espanyol could find themselves cut out of La Liga
Xavi Hernández had in his hand a piece of paper. So did his team-mates Sergi Roberto and Martín Montoya. So too did Sandro Rosell, Joan Laporta and Josep Maria Bartomeu, Barcelona presidents past, present and probably future. Pep Guardiola also had one. Barcelona’s players had travelled back from Almería the previous night, where they had come from behind to win 2-1, while Guardiola had flown in from Munich. Just after midday on Sunday he appeared at the Institut CIC, one of 1,317 polling stations in Catalonia. He was among the two million people who turned out to vote in the Catalan “referendum”, around 35% of those eligible.
There were two questions on the paper. The first asked if Catalonia should be a state. The second asked: if so, should it be an independent state? An estimated 80.7% voted yes to both questions; 10% voted yes to the first and no to the second; 4.5% voted no to both. The Spanish government described the vote as “antidemocratic”, “illegal” and “useless.” They had refused to negotiate, constitutional courts had first blocked a referendum then blocked a formal “consultation”, and those opening polling booths could theoretically be charged. But a vote went ahead anyway – a kind of statement turned leverage turned opinion poll turned dress rehearsal, from which those opposed to independence largely abstained.
The question this morning is: what now? It is a question that has been asked often and pointedly about Barcelona, the football club. On one level, it seems odd to elevate football to such a significant status when the independence process, if it does indeed continue now, would pose so many other huge questions. But it is logical enough. This is far from insignificant; when it comes to issues that have a tangible impact on people’s lives, what happens to their football team matters. And like it or not, and many do not, sport and politics do mix. On Sunday afternoon, one Catalan player celebrated a goal with his tongue wedged in his cheek and a t-shirt under his shirt saying: “Today’s goal is for you, [Spanish PM Mariano] Rajoy”
And so the question is asked. If Catalonia did at some stage become independent, what would happen to Barcelona? Could they still play in the Spanish league? Should they be allowed to?
That the question is often a loaded one is reflected in the fact that it’s repeatedly asked of Barcelona and comparatively rarely asked of Espanyol. If Espanyol are usually seen as a club caught up in a process not of their making, Barcelona are usually seen as agents of it.
While Barcelona’s commitment to political Catalanism is more shifting and nuanced than is sometimes imagined, the two clubs’ histories and identities are different. Soon after the civil war, Marca wrote of Español as a club run by people “well known for their [Spanish] patriotism” and of Barcelona as an institution that “used sport as a mouthpiece for an insufferable region.” But Espanyol, whose name, contrary to the usual assumptions, was not chosen as a Spanish rejection of Catalanism or Catalonia, have used the Catalan spelling for almost 20 years and insist that if Barcelona is more than a club, so is Catalonia. Yesterday, their president Joan Collet voted too. During their game against Villarreal there were Catalan flags at the stadium. But there were Spanish flags too, and possibly more of them.
Barcelona’s alignment with Catalanism is less ambiguous (but still contains ambiguities) and the club boasts a social and political power that is gigantic. That is something they have embraced too, of course, through the idea of being more than a club. One member of the Catalan parliament, a Catalan separatist exiled in the UK for many years, tells how his father always said: “the day there are chants for independence at the Camp Nou is the day we will get independence.” For the last two years, on 17 minutes and 14 seconds, those chants have gone round the stadium; they have simply not been carried off by the wind.
But this process has also put Barcelona in an awkward position, one that forces them to confront uncomfortable issues. So mostly they have chosen not to confront them at all; the difference between the current board and that led by Laporta, whose convictions were far clearer, is striking. There has been silence, a veneer of apoliticism, an implicit wish that the trouble would just go away. It took the club a long time to publicly back the Catalans’ right to have the vote. And a week ago, Barcelona refused to authorise the unfurling of a banner that declared Catalonia Europe’s next state. Meanwhile, the sponsor on their shirts and all over the stadium reads “Qatar”. Their focus is increasingly international; both in terms of signings and supporters.
Some accuse them of failing to take a braver, more determined political stance, more in line with their historic identity. For these critics, the Catalan question became another example of the deterioration of their club’s identity, something that extends from the court room all the way to the pitch. Guardiola’s brief return this weekend only served to heighten that feeling; his Sunday night meeting with Gerard Piqué, revealed by a fan with a phone, even more so.
Within the club, they say they are apolitical; they cannot lead in this process and must merely follow the will of the people. The Catalan people, that is. Barcelona’s current board say they have not chosen this situation, nor contributed to it. It is an argument that is only partly true and passivity and caution leaves them in a kind of vacuum, while changing little on a popular level. Elsewhere in Spain, for many the inevitable assumption remains: Barcelona are pushing for independence, using their privileged position for political means. “Y Viva España” is more regularly sung at them against a backdrop of Spain flags than it is chanted at Espanyol. Players are reminded that “Spain is your nation” and their commitment to the national team is questioned. This weekend cameras caught an Almería fan shouting at them: “Spain’s so lovely ... and you want to leave?!” As shouts go, that was one of the nice ones.
And so the question becomes a threat: “If you go, where are you going to play? Push for this and pay the consequences. If you want to leave, leave ... and you can leave the league too. See how you like that”. You can almost hear Harry Enfield: “Is that what you want? Cos that’s what’ll happen.”
At an institutional level, Barcelona have not answered the question publicly. They have preferred not even to ask it. Publicly, the same was true of the Spanish footballing authorities but as the issue grew and the date of the referendum came closer, the president of the league Javier Tebas came out and said that if Catalonia became independent, Barcelona could not play in the league. For the first time, the issue was out there, taken on by a figure of power. And his statement was stark too.
Tebas’s argument was ostensibly a legal one: the law governing the participation in professional sport in the country only allows for one exception: the only non-Spanish teams allowed to play in Spanish competition are Andorran ones. No other non-Spanish state is mentioned, thus no other state’s teams can take part.
Tebas presented the law as his trump card but it was a semantic sleight of hand: of course the law does not contemplate the inclusion of Catalan clubs as non-Spanish exceptions. How could it if Catalonia does not exist (yet)? Why would it if Catalan clubs count as Spanish (still)? After independence, it might be a different matter: then and only then would it be contemplated in law. Sport will not be the only sphere in which laws will be re-worded and terms redefined. The idea that Spain’s sports laws could not be changed in the event of a new political reality that would require the constitution to be changed is clearly flawed.
Tebas is a former member of the far right Fuerza Nueva and his words should probably be read not merely as a response to an insistent question but also as a warning, an attempt to discourage independence, using the political power football provides; being president of the league gives him considerable leverage. He admitted that as a Spanish patriot he could not remain silent and his words were surely designed not just to reflection a legal reality but to impact upon a political one.
Yet he remains the president of the league – official title: the Professional Football League, not the Spanish Football League – and he still would do after independence. But were independence to become a reality, his priorities would shift and his position might change. The league depends on the law, of course, but it is a law that could be modified and the league would still be a private body. And it is in no one’s interests to lose Barcelona (or Espanyol), least of all Tebas’s. TV deals, sponsorship and attendance would be hit hard. A league already dominated by two teams would become dominated by one and, loathe though they are to admit it, that would not even suit the one.
Barcelona and Espanyol would be hit harder. (Even if, again, the focus is invariably on the former not the latter.) There’s a belief at Barcelona, born of their size and importance and the arrogance that goes with it, that they will be OK. In the long run, they probably will be. Espanyol, largely forgotten, might actually be hurt more. Barcelona will not lack for suitors and the most important of them would surely be Spain, unless political pressure outside of football post-independence blocks that – punishment or national coherence, depending on your point of view. The alternatives are not good for anyone. A European league is not yet a viable exit, not as a replacement to a Spanish one, while accommodation in Portugal, say, or France is far from simple. And an independent Catalan would satisfy no one. The third best team in Catalonia is Girona, average attendance: 5,500.
The fourth best are Barcelona B.