One of the objectives of such a long imprisonment with an unjust provisional detention like that the Catalan political prisoners are suffering is to dehumanise them. To make them disappear from the collective imagination not only physically but until they, literally, fall into oblivion. This, together with the chastening of the independence movement as a whole, are the two pillars of the repression practiced by the Spanish government since it decided there was no possible solution to the Catalan conflict it would want to work on. And that the only path to follow was the strict and disproportionate application of the criminal code. A total of 704 nights in prison between Soto del Real and Lledoners, the Jordis, Sànchez and Cuixart, the first pro-independence leaders judge Carmen Lamela sent to prison as leaders of the ANC and Òmnium, and as organisers of the large-scale gathering outside the Catalan economy ministry on 20th September 2017, two years ago this Friday.

Remembering the Jordis is one way, in many ways the only one, to demonstrate, on the one hand, empathy with what they did and, on the other, compassion and gratitude for the unjust situation they're living through. If, in a tainted process like the trial of the pro-independence procés, there's something disproportionately unjust and without rhyme or reason it's the case of the Jordis and that of Carme Forcadell, the speaker of the Catalan Parliament when she was driven to prison. They paid exclusively for the offices they held and for their important social leadership since, as was very clearly demonstrated in the trial, Sànchez and Cuixart, if they did anything, it was to try to redirect the rally, creating security cordons, a rally which was peaceful from beginning to end.

But, obviously, that didn't fit with the script. It was necessary to argue that there had been a tumult in front of the economy ministry to be able to justify the elevated penalties called for by the public prosecution service. Otherwise, part of the case would fall like a house a cards and the invented narrative would evaporate, leaving nothing. Today, Jordi Sànchez has made the jump to politics and headed Junts per Catalunya's candidacy in the Spanish election in April and it's more than likely he'll stand again as a candidate in November's repeat although, in the way, there's the sentence from the Supreme Court which could bar them from public office beforehand. Cuixart has kept the presidency of Òmnium and has made civil disobedience the main way to maintain the struggle against the Spanish state. His book Ho tornarem a fer (literally, "We'll do it again") is, in this sense, sufficiently eloquent.

On this second anniversary of that 20th September, Cuixart has even said he doesn't plan to ask for a pardon, that he will serve his whole sentence and won't accept prison privileges and that, with the sentence being final from the Supreme Court, the door opens to a scenario of anti-Francoist struggle. Just like the exiles in Brussels, Puigdemont, Comín and Puig; Scotland, Clara Ponsatí; Geneva, Marta Rovira and Anna Gabriel; and so many others today deprived of a situation of full liberty. It's obvious that the Spanish state has failed on this point as it hasn't managed to make them invisible, as was its objective.