When Trump launched the ongoing trade war (on what he called "Liberation Day", and which in The Economist renamed "Ruination Day"), the Spanish Popular Party thought that the time had come for it to play the role of a systemic, structural party, capable of acting with a sense of state when the occasion calls for it. So Feijóo declared that, in the face of an aggression like the tariffs, the PP would stand by the Spanish government. What's more, he accused those who did otherwise of being unpatriotic (alert), referring to Vox.
That was last Thursday. By Wednesday, unified patriotism had already vanished. Two things are happening: the relationship with Vox can't be too bad, because the PP needs to negotiate again on the continuity of the governments of several autonomous communities (it has already done so in the Valencian Community, and is also doing so in the Balearic Islands and Aragon), and, on the other hand, the PP can't give Pedro Sánchez and his government even a breath of fresh air. This is also, or especially, in critical situations. In reality, Spain's leading party (as Feijóo himself likes to say, and he's right, because it is) is constantly focusing on this: seeing how it can take advantage of the current situation to turn the tables on the PSOE, bring about or force elections, and replace it in government. This is the legitimate desire of every opposition party, of course. Provided, of course, that this desire to seize power doesn't override the general interest. We already saw this with the pandemic and at the start of the war in Ukraine, and we see it again in the tariff crisis. The idea is to combine the corrosion of these moments of uncertainty with the dirty war in the courts and media, letting the wear and tear do its work.
Even this approach would certainly fall within the cynicism that is almost inherent to politics, provided the strategy does not involve violating coexistence and cohesion. But it does: specifically, it involves Catalanophobia, the instrument that Spanish nationalism of all stripes always has at hand when it wants to easily stir up tempers. Thus, the PP's change of heart, from supporting the Spanish government on tariffs to no longer supporting it in less than a week, is justified because Sánchez, the swindler, has once again "sold out" to the Catalans: in this case, to Junts, with whom the amounts of aid for the tariffs have been agreed upon. Therefore, it is a matter of demonizing agreements that the PP itself would sign if it were in power and needed the support of "the Catalans," this population group presented as Spain's problem. Which leads us to a reflection: when Pujol—and, later, Maragall, and, in their own way, Montilla and Mas—were teaching plurality and diversity, the Spanish governments were missing the opportunity to do the same. But they preferred to retain the easy catchall of Catalanophobia, and now they're forty years behind on this, too—especially.
