1. Alfonso Armada, a general in the Spanish army, was sentenced to 26 years, eight months, and one day of major imprisonment for being, along with Milans del Bosch, the leader of the attempted military coup d'état in February 1981. Only seven years later, and almost as a Christmas present, the PSOE cabinet pardoned Armada. The president of that government was none other than Felipe González. Those who wanted to reverse democracy in Spain, those who sought to interrupt the Transition and return to the Francoist ways of the last forty years, were pardoned by a socialist government that had no need to. Perhaps there we already had an indication of where the character stood.
2. Forty years later, Felipe González rails against the amnesty signed by the Sánchez government for those involved in the Trial and clutches his head in shock at the Constitutional Court's approval. Not only that, he goes on Onda Cero and embraces the entire argument of the right-wing most impatient to return to power. González calls the amnesty "an act of political corruption," asserts that it is "a disgrace" and "infectious," and considers it a "self-amnesty" drafted by Puigdemont, outside of Spain and outside the Constitution. For all these reasons, adding the Koldo case and the corruption surrounding powerful members of the PSOE, he says that Pedro Sánchez should back down, call elections, not run as a candidate, and, to top it off, gives the headline of the day: that he would not vote for the PSOE again right now.
3. Didn't they always say that judicial decisions must always be respected? And even more so if they come from the Constitutional Court? Don't you remember, González, the pardon granted to Alfonso Armada? Don't you remember the Filesa case, the illegal financing of the PSOE, for which the Turkish bosses paid while he evaded the attack? Have you already forgotten the Roldán case, your head of the Civil Guard, an imposter and embezzler, for which you opened an investigative commission that was a smokescreen? And, above all, what do you have to say about the GAL (Spanish National Liberation Front), set up with secret funds and ordered by your Minister of the Interior, who committed 27 murders in the Basque Country? Mr. X came out on top, but José Barrionuevo and Rafael Vera were sentenced to ten years in prison. Now, even these two tainted—and pardoned—men are calling for Pedro Sánchez to resign "to save the party's honor." With such a dark record, González didn't make it.
4. Carlos Alsina, on Onda Cero, conducts good interviews. He doesn't try to get on the interviewee's good side, asks direct questions, is quick on the uptake in his questions, and often manages to get the guest to step into the deep end. But Felipe González goes into detail knowing what he wants to say. It doesn't slip out of his head that he wouldn't vote for the PSOE again with Sánchez at the helm. He says this with full intention. When he periodically visits The anthillGonzález unleashes the monologues he's already thought out at home. Under the guise of an interview, the former socialist throws out the stones he's carrying. His ideas, over the years, have veered toward the most rancid and recentralizing right. He's so ideologically aligned with the PP that even Borja Sémper, the PP spokesperson, says that "when González speaks, it's worth listening." In programs with an audience, he seeks applause from the stands and gets it. In Madrid, it's not necessary to buy the clapperboard. He's dedicated to the cane of Sánchez, Puigdemont, and Catalanophobia. With these hits Felipe achieves remarkable ratings on Antena 3. However, the night Lamine Yamal went to see Pablo Motos, he tripled his audience. A Catalan from Rocafonda, with a whole future ahead of him, thrashed this guitarist with a past so full of shadows that he hit rock bottom days ago.
