Nobody in Madrid Is Shocked by This

Party financing in Spain is publicly funded to a significant degree, but the amounts are tied to election results, which creates a perverse incentive to find other sources when results are bad.

I've seen this pattern in other countries too, it's not unique to Spain, but the Spanish case is particularly chronic.

Y la gente sabe esto.

And people know this.

Los ciudadanos no confían en los partidos.

Citizens do not trust the parties.

The polling on institutional trust in Spain is sobering.

Political parties consistently rank near the bottom, below banks, below the church, even in a country where the church has its own complicated history.

And yet people keep voting, which tells you something about the limits of that cynicism.

Votar es importante.

Voting is important.

Pero la corrupción cansa.

But corruption is tiring.

Let's talk about Pedro Sánchez specifically.

Because he's made transparency and democratic integrity a centerpiece of his public persona.

He's positioned himself as a defender of the rule of law, particularly against the right.

And now his party's headquarters gets searched.

The irony of that is not subtle.

Sánchez dice: «No soy responsable.» Pero es su partido.

Sánchez says: 'I am not responsible.' But it is his party.

The people charged include the party's manager and two former senior officials.

So this reaches into the apparatus of the party.

Sánchez can maintain personal distance, but the organization around him is directly implicated.

That's a meaningful distinction but also, you know, a limited one.

En España, el partido es muy importante.

In Spain, the party is very important.

El jefe controla todo.

The leader controls everything.

And Sánchez, more than almost any other Spanish politician in recent memory, has centralized power within himself and his inner circle.

Which is precisely why the claim that none of this reached him is one that a lot of Spanish observers are looking at very carefully.

Los periódicos hacen muchas preguntas ahora.

The newspapers are asking a lot of questions now.

Es normal.

It is normal.

Good.

That's exactly what newspapers should be doing.

I want to come back to the specific allegation that there was an operation targeting the judicial police, the very people whose job it is to investigate corruption.

Because if that's true, it's not just corruption, it's an attack on the system designed to catch corruption.

Es muy serio.

It is very serious.

Atacar a los jueces es atacar la justicia.

Attacking judges is attacking justice.

I spent a long time reporting in countries where the judiciary had been hollowed out, where judges who asked the wrong questions had accidents, or suddenly found themselves under investigation for things that never quite made sense.

Once you've seen what that looks like at the extreme end, you pay close attention when you see early versions of it in democracies.

España no es eso.

Spain is not that.

Pero hay que proteger a los jueces.

But you have to protect judges.

Siempre.

Always.

Agreed.

And Spain's democracy is genuinely robust.

The National Court issued this order, the Civil Guard carried it out, the process is working.

But that's also partly the point: the institutions held, and we should notice when they do, not just when they fail.

Sí.

Yes.

El tribunal trabaja.

The court works.

La Guardia Civil trabaja.

The Civil Guard works.

Eso es bueno.

That is good.

Let me ask you something that might sound naive but I think matters.

For ordinary Spaniards, not the political class, not journalists, just people going about their lives, does this particular raid change anything?

Or does it disappear into the general noise of scandal?

La gente habla de esto en los bares.

People talk about this in the bars.

Pero después, la vida continúa.

But after, life continues.

The bar conversation.

There's probably no better barometer of what ordinary Spaniards actually think than what gets argued over a caña at eleven in the morning.

I've been in those conversations.

They're remarkably informed and remarkably cynical at the same time.

Los españoles son muy inteligentes con la política.

Spaniards are very intelligent about politics.

Y también muy cansados.

And also very tired.

That combination of intelligence and exhaustion is actually quite politically dangerous in the long run.

Because when people are both well-informed and deeply cynical, they start making decisions based on who they distrust least rather than who they actually believe in.

That hollows out democracy more slowly than an assault on the courts, but just as surely.

Sí.

Yes.

Los jóvenes no votan.

Young people do not vote.

Eso es un problema grande.

That is a big problem.

Youth turnout in Spain has been declining, particularly among people under thirty.

And when you ask those young people why, corruption comes up.

Not in an angry way.

Almost in a resigned way.

Like they've absorbed the cynicism of their parents and just gone one step further.

Y la corrupción no termina.

And the corruption does not end.

Los jóvenes ven esto y dicen: «Para qué.»

Young people see this and say: 'What is the point.'

"Para qué." That's a devastating two-word summary of political disillusionment.

Listen, something you said earlier is sitting with me.

You said Sánchez says he is not responsible, but it's his party.

That formulation stuck with me because in Spanish, you said something slightly different.

You used "responsable" but in a construction I want to ask you about.

Sí.

Yes.

«No soy responsable» significa «I am not responsible.» Es fácil.

'No soy responsable' means 'I am not responsible.' It is easy.

Right, but here's what tripped me up when I was starting to learn.

In English, "responsible" can mean two very different things: you caused something, or you're trustworthy and reliable.

We use the same word for both.

Spanish doesn't quite work that way, does it?

Bueno, «responsable» en español también tiene dos usos.

Well, 'responsable' in Spanish also has two uses.

Pero usamos «culpable» para «guilty» o «at fault.»

But we use 'culpable' for 'guilty' or 'at fault.'

Culpable.

And that's a word English speakers will recognize from law, actually.

Culpable, culpability.

So when a Spanish politician says "no soy culpable" versus "no soy responsable," they're making a subtle but meaningful distinction: I didn't do this versus I'm not in charge of this.

Exacto.

Exactly.

Y los políticos usan «no soy responsable» mucho.

And politicians use 'no soy responsable' a lot.

Es conveniente.

It is convenient.

Of course they do.

The language gives them a little bit of cover.

I'll admit I've confused those two enough times that I now pause before I accuse anyone of anything in Spanish.

It's a survival instinct at this point.

Fletcher, recuerdo que tú dices «soy muy embarazado» cuando cometes un error.

Fletcher, I remember you say 'I am very pregnant' when you make a mistake.

¡Eso es diferente a culpable!

That is different from guilty!

And on that note, we'll leave Spanish politics where we found it: complicated, occasionally humiliating, and never, ever boring.

Thanks for listening to Twilingua.