Fernández Díaz, Spain’s anti-system minister

We are hardly naive. We already knew that, as Michel Foucault rightly put it in 1976, “politics is the continuation of war by other means”. We already knew that Felipe González had buried the well-meaning Spanish left —and squandered the moral credit it had accumulated whilst fighting General Franco’s regime— when he tried to justify the GAL death squads (1) and admitted that “the rule of law is also enforced from the gutter”. Likewise, we already knew that when you get mired down in such shady, unconfessed (and unmentionable) doings —the kind that got a minister and several top PSOE officials (as well as Guardia Civil senior officers) decades of prison time— you leave behind you a trail of irreparable distrust towards some forms of State policing.

We already knew that Spain’s ruling Partido Popular has never formally condemned Franco’s regime and that some of its founders —not the least Manuel Fraga— emerged from the ranks of Francoism’s officialdom to embrace democracy without the slightest hint of self-criticism or any of the bare-minimum cleansing measures that you would expect in such cases. We already knew —and we are getting further evidence of this on a daily basis— that the PP is involved in so many institutional corruption cases, at all levels, that it has become one of the most corrupt political parties in Europe’s democracies.

We also knew that Jorge Fernández Díaz, Spain’s Home Secretary, had a natural penchant for the grotesque, like when he awarded the highest honour of Spain’s police force —the Gold Medal for Police Merit— to Mary, Our Holiest Lady of Love. We also knew that no modicum of political prudence could prevent Fernández from awarding a medal to the eight Guardia Civil officers who were tried for abusing a migrant at the Melilla fenced border line. And we also knew that he lied when he denied that the Guardia Civil had fired rubber bullets on migrants who were trying to swim ashore in Ceuta (one of Spain’s enclaves in northern Africa). Fifteen of them died as a result of this armed response.

Still, —and despite widely-shared suspicions— none of that had prepared us for the uncovering of the conversations between no other than Home Secretary Fernández and the Director of Catalonia’s Anti-fraud Office. Over the last few days, we have all got to hear them both —loud and clear— conspiring explicitly to use the State’s institutions and instruments to plot smear and libel campaigns —certainly by twisting facts— against their political rivals with a view to destroying them and influencing public opinion and even government alliances.

This is far from just another piece of news or a minor issue. From a political and institutional point of view, it is exceedingly grave. Ethically, it is most repugnant. Therefore, it is odd and surprising —and I am being deliberately restrained in my choice of adjectives— that the Spanish media should approach this news story in such a circumspect manner (except, of course, the paper that got the scoop). In a mature democracy —of which Spain is no example, by a long mile— this event would have triggered a true state crisis. For this reason, it is equally surprising that minister Fernández Díaz was not been sacked on the spot once the recordings of his conversations were released and their veracity was ascertained. That’s why it is surprising that Spain’s General Attorney —whose job it is to ensure that the justice system strives to enforce the law— has failed to take urgent action against the minister, given the gravity of his words on the recordings. Finally, it is surprising that Fernández Díaz, who tops the Barcelona PP slate in the Spanish polls of June 26, has not been forced to withdraw from the election: after what we have learnt, could any slate led by such a character get a single decent vote?

Actually, this comes as no surprise when you consider that this gutter conspiracy was aimed at the institutional core of Catalan separatism, a political option as legitimate as any other, but one that has been derided, slandered, compared to Nazism and insulted by land, sea and air. And it is no secret that, as far as the Spanish State and its main political parties are concerned, when it comes to fighting Catalan independence, no holds are barred.

Why is this so serious? Above all, because Spain’s 400/2012 bill states that the Home Secretary is the one cabinet member whose remit includes national security matters and he must ensure that civil rights are protected, particularly individual freedom and security, and because he commands the State’s police and security forces. Regardless of what a court of law might ultimately rule, today Fernández Díaz is a true public enemy, a famished wolf watching a herd of sheep, a fox inside the chicken coop. There is a befitting term that Fernández often uses to scorn his political rivals and he has earned it for himself over the last two days: he is truly anti-system. Out of sheer decency, but also for security reasons, he must be sacked without delay. Every hour that goes by is an hour too late.

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(1) N.T. In the 1980s Spain’s Grupos Anti-terroristas de Liberación (GAL) were an off-the-books, government-sponsored police and mercenary gang that murdered and kidnapped Basque separatists.