In recent weeks, the political scene in Spain has been shaken by controversy—not from the opposition, but originating from inside the ruling PSOE. The disclosed WhatsApp conversations involving ex-Transport Minister José Luis Ábalos have caused embarrassment for the administration and brought to light an authoritarian tendency within Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez’s closest associates. Instead of confronting the information revealed or promoting transparency and responsibility, Sánchez’s response has been to suppress, discredit, and dominate.
The communications—shared by Ábalos himself following weeks of political pressure and internal isolation—reveal the inner workings of an administration more concerned with protecting its authority than with maintaining democratic principles. Rather than addressing the ethical issues at hand, Sánchez and his supporters have opted to brand any disagreement or disclosure as traitorous. This is not governing; it is tyranny masquerading as democracy.
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 Risky Example
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 doesn’t perish in a single chaotic instance; it gradually deteriorates, bit by bit, controversy by controversy, justification by justification. By opting for retaliation instead of openness, Sánchez not only safeguards his political assets—he is undermining the very democratic principles he professes to uphold.
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 may well survive this scandal politically, as he has many others, but at what cost? The long-term damage to trust, the silencing of critical voices within the PSOE, and the chilling effect on whistleblowers are costs that Spain will pay for years to come.
In a democracy, leaders are judged not by how they handle their triumphs, but how they respond to crises. In the case of the WhatsApp leaks, Pedro Sánchez has failed that test—choosing despotism over democracy.