In the current era of post-truth politics, there are two common reactions to political proclamations: either nobody believes anything or we tend to exclusively believe those of our own tribe or faction. We oscillate between radical skepticism and complete devotion to the perspectives offered by our own group. Neither attitude seems appropriate for sustaining a mature civic culture, but this is where we have ended up. Lacking public deliberation and respect for opponents, everything ultimately boils down to an effort to rationalize our own position and demonize that of our opponents. What is missing is a skepticism like that of Montaigne, the willingness to form an autonomous opinion even while maintaining doubts. This is the context in which I find myself with the much-discussed letter from President Sánchez.
I will not delve into the motives behind the gesture, as I am unaware of them, but what is certain is Sánchez’s immense capacity to surprise and not remain still, a trait that Ortega attributed to the archetypal politician, “the inertia of his torrential activism.” In this case, it manifests as the transformation of a cold politician into a “sentimental” one. I do not find reasons to claim that it is insincere, but I do lament that he did not take the opportunity to distinguish between legitimate political divergence and the meat grinder that our politics has become. Just as there is institutionalized lynching, and not only from one side, sensible criticism is also being exercised. Fusing both practices into one way of opposing effectively delegitimizes all disagreements. It is not about turning the other cheek, but drawing attention to this disastrous drift that our politics has entered. Failing to do so means deepening the trench that separates the two sides.
Whether he continues in office or resigns, he is obligated to institutionalize his gesture. This atypical form of communication from a sitting President with the citizens fits perfectly into the populist practice of eliminating all mediation between leader and people. However, in a parliamentary system, the head of government is not elected directly, but rather by Parliament, and it is before them that he must be held accountable (in addition to his own party, of course). These mediations cannot be ignored. If he chooses to resign, that is where explanations should be offered. Given the unprecedented nature of the situation he has caused, the most dignified way to remain in office would be through a vote of confidence. In both cases, he would have a solemn opportunity to turn his supposed victim status into something constructive, advocating for a different, less confrontational politics, instead of seeking acclaim among his own supporters, as it currently stands.
Beware of attacking judges and non-aligned media as a whole. Sowing a kind of systemic distrust in the mechanisms of control is the quickest way to subvert the liberal pillars of any democratic system. Sánchez found the opening for his vote of no confidence based on a court ruling, and now flirts with lawfare; the PP began by delegitimizing the government that emerged from it, following a visceral criticism of the judge who issued said ruling. And they continue to not fulfill their obligation to renew the CGPJ. Specific rulings can be criticized, and we all do so, but if our two major parties only tend to accept judicial actions that benefit them, we are in trouble.
