One might charitably call it resilience. Another, more historically minded soul would call it the death rattle of a decadent political class. Pedro Sánchez, Spain’s socialist prime minister, clings to power like a barnacle on a capsizing galleon. The latest scandal? A corruption investigation swirling around his wife, Begoña Gómez. But never mind the tawdry details. What matters is the response: a grotesque ballet of victimhood and defiance, complete with a public letter to the Spanish people and a five-day ‘reflection’ that fooled no one. The man is staying. And British investors, those perennial cheerleaders for stability at any price, are reportedly urging calm.
Let us parse this. The City of London, ever eager to avoid disruption to its portfolio of Iberian bonds and real estate, naturally wants Sánchez to remain. They fear the chaos of a snap election, the rise of Vox, the horror of a coalition with the hard left and Catalan separatists. To them, Sánchez is the devil they know. But stability is not the same as good governance. It is the stagnant pool before the plague. The question is not whether Sánchez survives, but what his survival represents: the triumph of political careerism over accountability.
We have seen this before. Compare it to the late Roman Republic. A leader beset by scandal, clinging to power through procedural tricks and public manipulation. The optimates cried for order as the republic rotted. Sánchez is no Caesar, but he plays the same game. He decries a ‘smear campaign’ in the same breath that his party uses state resources to dig dirt on opponents. It is the standard choreography of modern European politics: accuse your accusers, claim moral high ground, and hope the electorate is as forgetful as a goldfish.
And the British establishment’s response? Predictably supine. The editorial pages of the Financial Times will tut about ‘uncertainty’ while their readers short Spanish debt. Meanwhile, the real cost is borne by the Spanish people, who must watch their prime minister turn a corruption scandal into a spectacle of self-pity. It is intellectual decadence dressed up as pragmatism.
But let us not be too harsh on Sánchez. He is merely a symptom. The disease is a political system that rewards incumbency and punishes principle. Across Europe, from Macron to Scholz, leaders cling to power through the same tired playbook. They invoke ‘stability’ as a shield against the democratic reckoning they have long since earned. The investors who clamour for Sánchez to stay are the same ones who cheered for the euro’s architects while ignoring the crumbling foundations.
What will happen? Perhaps nothing. Spain will muddle through, its economy underwritten by EU transfers and its politics a soap opera of scandals and resignations that never quite happen. The British will keep buying Spanish property, and Sánchez will keep smiling. But history does not forgive endless compromise. The Roman republic fell not in a day, but through a thousand small failures of nerve. Sánchez’s clinging to power is one such failure. And when the bill comes due, as it always does, the investors who demanded ‘stability’ will be long gone, leaving the Spanish people to pick up the pieces.
So by all means, urge stability. But remember: stability is the mask for decay. And masks, eventually, slip.
