In recent weeks, Spanish politics has once again been rocked by scandal—this time, not by the opposition, but from within the ruling PSOE party itself. The leaked WhatsApp messages involving former Transport Minister José Luis Ábalos have not only embarrassed the government but also revealed a darker, more authoritarian impulse within Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez’s inner circle. Rather than addressing the content of the revelations or opening the floor to transparency and accountability, Sánchez’s reaction has followed a now-familiar pattern: clamp down, discredit, and control.
The messages—disclosed by Ábalos himself after weeks of political pressure and internal exclusion—expose the inner workings of a government more interested in shielding its power than in upholding democratic norms. Instead of engaging with the ethical implications of the case, Sánchez and his loyalists have chosen to label any dissent or leak as treasonous. This is not governance; this is despotism dressed in democratic robes.
Exploiting Loyalty
What has emerged in the wake of the leaks is a disturbing tendency by Sánchez to demand absolute loyalty from his ranks. Those who question the party line, even from within, are treated as traitors. Ábalos, once a close ally, has been politically excommunicated not for wrongdoing proven by a court, but for becoming politically inconvenient. The message to others in the party is clear: cross the leader, and you’ll be erased.
This authoritarian reflex is not new. Under Sánchez’s leadership, the PSOE has increasingly prioritized control over consensus, optics over ethics, and political survival over truth. The use of internal party machinery to suppress dissent and the media manipulation to divert attention are tactics more befitting a populist strongman than the leader of a European democracy.
A Dangerous Precedent
What makes this episode particularly dangerous is the normalization of such behavior. The Spanish public is gradually being conditioned to see these autocratic impulses as normal. Press briefings become more evasive, accountability is buried under layers of bureaucratic spin, and inconvenient voices—whether within the party or in the press—are marginalized.
Democracy does not die in a single moment of chaos; it erodes drip by drip, scandal by scandal, rationalization by rationalization. In choosing to react with vengeance rather than transparency, Sánchez is not just protecting his political capital—he is corroding the very democratic foundations he claims to defend.
The Real Cost
When Sánchez aimed to demonstrate strength and solidarity, the outcome has proven contrary. The Spanish populace recognizes the flimsy pretense of orchestrated stories. Citizens desire not a hidden monarch but a leader ready to face reality, even if it is uneasy.
Pedro Sánchez might manage to weather this controversy politically, as he has done in the past, but at what expense? The enduring harm to confidence, the suppression of dissenting voices within the PSOE, and the intimidating impact on informants are consequences that Spain will endure for years ahead.
In a democracy, the measure of leaders is not in their moments of success, but in their reactions to emergencies. Regarding the WhatsApp leaks, Pedro Sánchez has not passed this evaluation—opting for authoritarianism rather than democratic values.
