1Dependence and Autonomy
The peasant utopia is the free village, untrammeled by tax collectors, labor recruiters, large landowners, officials.
âEric Wolf, Peasant Wars of the Twentieth Century
The peasant-utopia has . . . never existed. There has never been a peasant-community completely free of taxes, rents, fees, tithes or labor-services, a âfree villageâ in which smallholders have had absolute security of tenure and freedom from subjection. . . . The aspirations of peasants for this kind of independence have, however, made themselves felt in various waysâin peasant-rebellions, in political and religious movements, and in cultural traditions.
âEllen Meiksins Wood, Peasant-Citizen and Slave
DURING MY FIRST visit to Southern Catalonia, on a sunny spring morning in 2010, I was struck by the impression of a farmland without farmers. The stone walls and terraces filled with vineyards, olive groves, and hazelnuts bore unmistakable signs of human action and appeared to be in full production, yet this landscape was remarkably empty of people. Indeed, the most visible active presence was that of the groups of workers involved in two infrastructural projects: the construction of wind farms and a government-funded, countywide irrigation project.
Within a few weeks, I discovered that in the evenings and on weekends, those empty fields acquired new life: men and often entire families tending their fields and gardens with small tractors, or socializing, mostly during the weekend, in their masos.
âIn the city they go to the gym after working, here our workout is going to the fields,â people often told me. During those first weeks, in my conversations with local residents about the wind farms, I often interjected questions about the irrigation project, conceived in the official jargon as a âsystem of supportâânot to promote crop replacement but to alleviate the effects of extremely dry summers on hazelnuts, almonds, grapes, and olives, the traditional commodity crops of the region. The answer was invariable: âI donât think Iâll pay for the connection; it comes too late, anyway, twenty or thirty years too late. Then, it could have made a difference, now there are no peasants anymore.â
This sense of despair infused Southern Catalansâ views of agricultural activities, a feeling ossified in a common series of complaints: âIt is impossible to make a living from agriculture,â âWhat can you do with these prices?â, âThis is not the right way to farm, it is just suffering,â âWe will all end up living cramped into cities,â âSometimes I think they should just finish us off.â
This last statement always intrigued me, not so much for the elliptical character of the subject âtheyââsometimes replaced with âthose in chargeâ (los que manen)âas for the ambivalence of the object âus,â which seemed to invoke a nebulous collective identity, simultaneously the peasantry, the rural world, and Southern Catalans. Yet in all its fuzziness and simplicity, the statement captured not only a local experience of rural exodus and anxiety about the future, but also an awareness, however abstract, of the structural dynamics fueling that experience, which Marx condensed in a famous sentence: âthe bourgeoisie . . . has made the country dependent on the towns.â1
As months went by, I also observed how this overwhelming sense of despair coexisted with more subdued yet no less unconcealed feelings of pride and joy in farming activities and the condition of pagèsâa cousin term to the French paysan that translates as âpeasantâ or, in some circumstances, âfarmer.â
âHere, weâre all pagesos,â local men and women of all ages would say, suggesting the existence of reproductive logics that escape official statistics. This became clear on my visit to the field in the early fall of 2012, around harvest time, when, in addition to the usual gifts of hazelnuts, wild mushrooms, and grapes that my family and I used to receive from neighbors and friends, we were inundated by a daily bounty of garden produceâtomatoes, melons, zucchini, watermelons, eggplants, peppers of all sizes and colorsâthat the villagers foisted on us as we passed in the street. Carrying baskets and boxes of vegetables, they excitedly compared the treasures nourished by newly arrived water, despite the skepticism that I had previously recorded. âI donât know about the hazelnuts, because with these prices . . . but in the winter, the pantry will be a joy!â
These feelings and responses, contradictory and oblique, are the structurally contingent product of a long history of material relationsâinstitutionalized in local culture, imprinted in historical consciousness, and inscribed in the landscapeâthat permeate daily practice. At the center of this historical process we find the âcrisis of traditional agriculture,â2 a term that identifies the obverse of the modernization process initiated by the Spanish economy in the 1960s, often known as the âSpanish Miracle.â Depeasantization, massive rural exodus, and a structural crisis in family farming became the negative image of industrialization, urbanization, and extension of wage relations. Rural areas and small farming were sacrificed on the altar of growth and economic development.
This chapter situates this epochal transformation within a broader historical analysis of the development of material relations in Southern Catalonia since the late nineteenth century. Adopting such a long temporal perspective makes it possible to examine historical dynamics governing the transformation and continuity of the Southern Catalan rural world. This examination will focus on the articulation between two problems: on the one hand, reproduction, or the drive of people to reproduce their livelihoods and how they understand their actions; on the other hand, production, or the drive of capitalists for accumulation and how they try to manage other peopleâs lives to that end.3 The history of the Southern Catalan countryside may be described as a permanent struggle to reproduce autonomous livelihoods in the face of manifold political and economic structures producing dependence and marginalization.4 On some occasions, this struggle emerges as open conflict. More often it manifests in daily practices of carving out autonomy, in the stubborn unwillingness to be finished off, and in identity claims that escape capitalâs law of value. Only through this historical lens, attentive to the precarious, shifting balance between autonomy and dependency generated in the dialectic of production and reproduction, can we understand the rejection of energy facilities in Southern Catalonia.
Dependence, Struggle, and Violence in Southern Catalonia (1874â1939)
Southern Catalonia is an area of dryland farming of Mediterranean commodity crops, predominantly grapes, olives, hazelnuts, and almonds. Specialized agriculture has been a characteristic feature since the eighteenth century, when the region tripled its population and agrarian production soared.5 Throughout the nineteenth century, as Catalonia became the first Spanish region to industrialize (especially along the coast), the livelihoods of the Southern Catalan peasantry progressively deteriorated, principally as a result of the worsening of the terms of trade, rising taxation, and the state-led privatization of common lands.6 These factors combined with increased demographic pressure to produce heightened class differences. My description of the system of dependencies structuring the Southern Catalan âtraditional agrarian societyâ focuses on this period, which politically corresponds with a regime known as RestauraciĂłn (1874â1931). During this period, successive governments dismantled the democratic reforms introduced between 1868 and 1874 and implemented an infamously fraudulent electoral process that effectively reinstated the power of the landowning elites at the national and local levels.
Nested Dependency Ties
The settlement pattern in Southern Catalonia wasâand remains to this dayâquite uniform, creating a structure that may be described as an archipelago of villages. Southern Catalans lived in small- and medium-sized villages, generally between five hundred and two thousand inhabitants, separated by regular distances (five to ten kilometers). Villagers rarely owned land outside of their terme municipal (âmunicipal territory,â the area administratively controlled by the municipality), creating a strong correspondence between landownership borders and administrative units. Dispersed habitation was uncommon, and distance to the agricultural fieldsâwith each household typically cultivating several plotsâwas often considerable, a circumstance that helps explain why âfarmingâ is locally referred to with the expression anar al defora (âgoing outsideâ). With the exception of the Ebro riverbanks, the terrain is rugged, dry, and full of stones, and has historically been made arable through the construction of a complex system of terraces and stone walls. The area was isolated, with the main communication lines being the river Ebroâlinking the area with Tortosa, the regionâs historical capital and its only sizable townâand a railroad to Reusâthe trading market for the regionâs agrarian productionâbuilt in the 1850s.
Each village in Southern Catalonia may be described as a constellation of cases (literally âhouses,â yet roughly translatable as âhouseholdsâ and âfarmsteadsâ) operating as units of both production and consumption.7 The region thus offered a fairly typical picture of petty commodity producers combining the sale of agricultural commodities with a noncapitalist organization of the labor process. Every household complemented the production of commodity crops with self-provisionâraising small animals and pigs, growing fodder for mules, tending vegetable gardens and fruit trees at the edges of the fieldsâand exploitation of forested areas for wood, herbs, mushrooms, and, probably most important of all, hunting.8 The casa operated as a central cultural category evoking cooperation, affection, and unity of purpose, playing a central role in the definition of a personâs place in society. Thus, to this day Southern Catalans tend to hypostatize the casa as a subject of social relations, saying, for instance, âcasa X married casa Y,â or âJoana is a sister of casa Z.â
The notion of casa thus possessed a strong ideological component stressing its organic unity, thereby obscuring the fact that the relation to the means of production within the household (fundamentally, landed property) was not collective or homogeneous. Indeed, the ideal of undivided inheritance through primogeniture structured a double axis of inter- and intragenerational contradictions. The former tended to be expressed in conflicts over decision making within the casa between the parents of the heir (amos), who tended to retain ownership of the estate until their death, and the heir and his wife (or the heiress and her husband). Within the same generation, lines of power and economic prevalence set cleavages between the prospective heir and his or her siblings, who could only remain in the casa as unmarried dependent laborers. Marriage decisions were crucial for the reproduction of the casa, and they tended to be monopolized by the amos and the married heir.9
Moving from the social relationships within the casa to those between cases, we observe that differential access to landed property was key to the hierarchy of cases and the relations of dependence between them. At the top of the pyramid we typically encounter a small number of relatively large landowners (cacique or senyor) whose land was not cultivated directly, but by poor peasants in sharecropping arrangements. Senyors not only possessed more, but also better land, situated on the plains closer to the village. They also enjoyed a position of semimonopolistic control over the transformation and commercialization of the agrarian produce. Their control over the life of the community was reinforced by their tight grip over the electoral processes and through the support of the church, the administrative apparatus, and the repressive forces. These landowners were the nodal points in a complex structure of power, known as caciquismo, that blossomed during the RestauraciĂłn. JoaquĂn Costa described it in 1901:
Each region . . . was dominated by a cacique. . . . To know how a legal matter would be resolved, it did not matter whether you were right or whether the...