What is this, Minister?

The facts... It's been years since the Jewish community in Guayaquil has been asking me to attend one of their big events. I was finally able to arrange the dates so that I had the honor of participating in Yom Hazikaron, the day of the fallen, and to be the speaker at the central event, Yom Hazmaut, Israel's independence day. It was a spectacular crowd, with more than 500 people and many Guayaquil politicians, business leaders, and journalists... As was logical, my speech focused on the problems in the Middle East, the values of freedom, the risks of Islamic radicalism, and so on. The event concluded with a youth choir performance and afterwards we had lively, relevant discussions. In the interim, there were many meetings with journalists, politicians, and even a visit to the stadium of the Ecuadorian Barcelona soccer team, thanks to the governor. Intense days that enrich one's outlook. Completely peaceful and constructive.

Completely? Well, not quite, because just as I was about to head home, they told me about the pressure the organizers were under to rescind my invitation. This is the story: as soon as they heard I was to be the speaker, Spain's Ministry of Foreign Affairs made a little call to the Israeli Ambassador in Spain. Seems that the fact that I go around the world talking about whatever I might talk about is an international hazard. Given the logical response, diplomatic-style, of butting your nose into other people's affairs, the Spanish Embassy in Ecuador also made a quick little call to the Israeli Ambassador in Quito. Same story again. And since the honorable pressure didn't seem to be having the desired effect, the Spanish Consul in Guayaquil, with the illustrious name of Sir Álvaro de Salas Giménez de Azcárate, called the Israeli Consul, and not only made him aware of his exceeding dismay, but also said he would not attend the event, who knows if because he was tired or out of fear that this speaker would pass on some Catalan virus. And that is how, despite his aristocratic absence, and the litany of diplomatic measures employed to silence me, a certain Rahola made her speech, which was greeted with overwhelming applause, and spent a pleasant evening. My success was their embarrassment.

The questions. Esteemed Minister, is this how you spend your time? Does the Ministry of Foreign Affairs have blacklists of those who are not allowed to speak abroad? Is it part of your official duties to pressure groups, universities and consulates of other countries not to invite particular citizens? And I ask because it happened to me as well at a university in Chile, with the same lack of success on your part. Have you all gone so crazy with the Catalan question that you have gone to the extreme of persecuting any of us who speak abroad, even if all we're talking about is bread with tomato? What is this, a police state? Because let me remind you and your ambassadors, that your salaries come from my taxes, and I am not paying you to persecute me as if we were in the Soviet Union. It is truly surreal. So much so that in the end, you all make fools of yourselves.

Pilar Rahola is a writer, columnist, and member of Catalonia's National Transition Advisory Council. This article appeared originally in "La Vanguardia" and is translated and reproduced here with the author's permission. 

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This is the story: as soon as they heard I was to be the speaker, Spain's Ministry of Foreign Affairs made a little call to the Israeli Ambassador in Spain.

Have you all gone so crazy with the Catalan question that you have gone to the extreme of persecuting any of us who speak abroad, even if all we're talking about is bread with tomato?