Sánchez with the punctured float

Let's call a spade a spade: if at any point it is justified to demand the resignation of President Pedro Sánchez, it would be now. The Supreme Court ruling that condemns Ábalos and Koldo leaves the president in a compromised situation. Ábalos was the head of a ministry as relevant as Public Works for three years, repeatedly endorsed by the president, he handled the internal plumbing of the socialist party and Sánchez himself had pointed him out as the person to whom he entrusted the day-to-day management. It seems clear that there has been no link between the president and the facts ruled upon. That, therefore, the corruption scheme grew without him receiving any news of what was happening, which opens up questions about the Moncloa control systems. But a head of government is responsible for their actions; for example, for the appointments they make. And even more so when they are of the highest level. Faced with such a scandal – a corruption scheme at the government's highest level orchestrated by someone from the president's immediate circle – Sánchez cannot act as if nothing has happened. Something is wrong when at the highest level of power there is a case of this magnitude and the president finds out when it's too late.

Now is when Feijóo's obsession – Sánchez's resignation, the sole theme of his opposition strategy – hits rock bottom. His repeated appeals for Sánchez to step down have trivialized the issue; the demand for the president's resignation has long ceased to be a relevant fact because Feijóo has turned it into a sing-song, almost a way of saying good morning when he wakes up. Repeating it so much no longer means anything. If Feijóo had focused on finding other topics and ideas for opposition, he would now have a resounding opportunity to demand the president's departure with full symphonic accompaniment. And he would be right. But "resignation", in the voice of the PP leader, has long been just a litany to entertain his melancholy. And every time he raises his voice, it's a case of "benefit of the doubt".

The sentence leaves a bitter taste with the favorable predisposition towards Aldama. Justice has reasons that are sometimes difficult to understand. Without Aldama, the promoter of the turbulent business, there would have been no case. Frankly put: the corrupter enjoys a surprising privileged treatment. He is convicted but spared prison, in the name of alleged contributions to public knowledge of the facts and the actors that led to the judicial process. However, it is difficult to understand that the private actor who promoted the conspiracy, the one who sought out the characters to be corrupted to enrich himself within the State, comes out much better than those who fell into his temptations. If he had not worked for complicity, the crime would not have existed. He is convicted – four and a half years – but released from prison. A strange feeling that the rigor in applying the law varies depending on whether the actor is public or private, and it is argued with reasons that reason does not understand. Let's not fool ourselves: without the corrupter, there would have been no case.

Sánchez's path is narrowing. We are talking about a corrupt scheme at the heart of the Council of Ministers, with individuals with recognized influence over the government and the party. In fact, only Feijóo's frivolity can ultimately save him. And it is a good lesson for the right: shouting for the sake of shouting leads nowhere. The opportunity has arrived for them, but their lightness can lose them. Demanding his resignation every week turns it into an irrelevant game. And it contributes to making people believe that the remedy is worse than the disease. And it probably is. At this moment, when all of Europe is turning towards right-wing radicalization, it is frightening that an authoritarian regression might arrive here. This does not prevent the Ábalos case from leaving Sánchez clinging to a punctured life raft.