To begin with a positive assessment: the word Spain is sneaking into political discourses and is acquiring the tone of normality that it should never have lost, because the only thing that was achieved by replacing the name of our country with the unfriendly term “State” was to achieve that others would appropriate what is common heritage and make a rancid catalog of its essences. Spain and the Spaniards, without the need to constantly say Spanish men and women, a fussy manner that slows down speeches without adding equality to equality. So let’s return to Machado’s Spain, the one in which all Spains fit, to return to the poet who was so humorously cited on Wednesday in the Cortes. We must recognize the singer-songwriters that in a country where almost no one cites poets by heart, they have managed to ensure that some of the lyrics have stuck with us thanks to music. The Googlelesque culture, as we could see in the Congress rostrum, informs us of the verses much worse.
Spain has not been broken, nor will it be broken. I would say that, if there is such a thing as national character, we Spaniards move from one side of the map to the other between cordiality and harshness, between frankness and cockiness, between sincerity and rudeness. And this mixture of virtues and defects always in contention has been literally staged in an investiture session in which there has been no shortage of the harsh and the rude, the insult and the bad talk, but also the sincerity of confessing, on the part of the already president, that there is no choice in Spain but to negotiate with all the Spains, as on the other hand they have all done and will do, as well as the PP will do if at some point it manages to break free from its fanatical version and chooses to return to handshakes with those with whom, for economic reasons, it shares more ground in its defense of the privileged classes.
Somehow, Pedro Sánchez has managed to get his voters to swallow the truth about attending an irritating spectacle in which whoever received a measure of grace, in addition to not feeling grateful, demanded and demands that the story be told in their own way and threatens with breaking the deal as soon as the wire is crossed. Perhaps, without intending it, Sánchez has paved the way for a future and hypothetical Feijóo to become president with the support of Junts without having to face those hordes of Ferraz who wave Francoist symbols in order to save Spain from the dictatorship democratic. All very crazy, listen. Far be it from me to give advice to the popular leader, but it would be smarter to make the opposition less thuggish and from the sidelines observe how those who say they support an investiture manage by putting so many conditions in front of them that sound like severe warnings.
It will be a difficult legislature, experts say. Those of us who are not experts not only fear a difficulty that prevents the approval of laws, but that political acrimony invades everything, columns, gatherings, information, to the point that perhaps, at some point, it will sneak into our coexistence and I dirty her. That fury has already been unleashed. One hundred meters from my house, on the same sidewalk, there is graffiti that reads “Sánchez rat”, following the style of the “son of a bitch” that Ayuso whispered in Congress, or that of so many insults that have fouled the air of Ferraz all these days gone by. If the only way to oppose the PP is to delegitimize the president in his speech, we are ready; If the guirigay is imposed among the parties that support the Government, we are ready; If they are incapable of each other to give the country a little peace, to give us a truce, they will ensure that (as happened in Catalonia) we remain silent at Christmas for fear of making enemies with the family and instead of twelve grapes we swallow twelve toads .
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