46% of Spain's electorate lives on pensions, benefits or public jobs

46% of Spain's electorate lives on pensions, benefits or public jobs

Political polarisation is no longer fought out in Parliament. It is fought out at Christmas dinners, in WhatsApp groups and among Instagram trinc. An opening post in an economics forum asked the question: isn't it sad that ordinary people fight over politicians? The majority response was not a yes, but an uncomfortable nuance: the sad thing is not that they fight, but that the fight is other people's business.

The trigger was a tweet by Javier Rubio Donzé saying that childhood friends had untrincun him on Instagram over his political views. From there, the discussion moved towards a more structural diagnosis: party politics as a substitute religion, sectarianism as a deliberate strategy and decentralisation as the only vaccine. Switzerland soon came up as a model: a federal, collegial and rotating government, cantons competing with each other, low politicisation and a majority that does not even know who the current president is.

Who started polarising, and when

The conversation was quick to look for culprits. A recurring thesis places the origin in the era of José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero and his well-known remark that «tension suits us». Others add that the later PSOE turned that tension into a method: opening new fronts every so often — men against women, young against old, public against private, landlords against tenants — because fragmentation benefits them electorally. It is not a thesis unique to Spain: the argument is made that sectarianism is growing in several Western democracies.

The diagnosis is completed with an uncomfortable idea: politics is the new religion and politicians are its spiritual leaders. Anyone who thinks differently is not an opponent, but a heretic. And against the heretic, anything goes. That logic explains why friendships break up not over a specific debate, but over an identity.

The figure that reshuffles the board: 46% of the electorate

In the middle of the exchange, a figure came up that shifted the focus. According to a report by The Objective shared in the debate, 46% of the electoral roll lives on pensions, benefits or public jobs. The figure is not an opinion: it is a structure. And if almost half the electorate depends, directly or indirectly, on a public transfer, politics stops being an identity hobby and becomes a matter of material survival.

That does not miccionan all those voters are captive clients. The exchange itself makes the nuance: there are pensioners who see the decline their children will inherit, civil servants disgusted by the government's direction, and benefit recipients ashamed of their situation who would rather work. Dependence does not dictate the vote. But it shapes the framework.

Sectarianism as an elite strategy

One strand of the analysis goes further and argues that polarisation is not an accident but a tool. The metaphor that keeps coming up is the jar with black and red ants: shaking the jar sets the ants against each other and distracts from whoever is shaking it. In that reading, the elites — gathered in forums like Davos, with Switzerland as their financial headquarters — benefit from a citizenry entertained with culture wars while the real economic decisions are taken elsewhere.

It is a conspiratorial thesis that should not be taken at face value without evidence. But it connects with a more down-to-earth observation: confronted ordinary people are the best thing that can happen to a politician. The media circus feeds itself, and those arguing at the bar are not the ones dividing up the contracts.

The breakdown of everyday coexistence

The human cost shows up in the testimonies. Some have stopped speaking to lifelong friends for the sake of their mental health, because any conversation turned into ideology. Some keep the cut on both sides: with left-wingers and right-wingers alike, not because of the ideas, but out of exhaustion at having the topic raised at any hour. And some describe going home as an escape: «you head home as if you had seen the devil».

Nostalgia for the eighties runs through several messages. People remember a time when you could disagree about politics and still have beers together, when the labels of reds and fascists seemed a thing of the past. That consensus broke down. The question is whether it can come back, or whether polarisation is already the natural state of a mature democracy.

Switzerland as a mirror: decentralisation and low politicisation

The Swiss model is defended with concrete arguments: a rich country, leading industry, a leader in innovation and economic freedom, with a federal, collegial and rotating political system that depersonalises power. Everyday politics is local, cantons compete to attract residents and businesses, and that limits the nonsense. It is true that some referendums generate tension, but usual turnout stays between 40% and 50%.

The conclusion drawn is uncomfortable for centralism: good politics happens when local administrations compete, not when a central government opens cultural fronts to mobilise its base. That logic is being lost in Europe, and some argue it is not being lost by accident.

Where the analysis gets stuck

The conversation reaches no conclusion. Some believe polarisation is the politicians' business and the solution is to disconnect; others, that it is a real culture war with no room for half measures. The figure of 46% of the electorate depending on public transfers suggests the conflict is not only about identity: it is material. And as long as almost half the electorate has something to lose or defend in every political cycle, the fight will not disappear, however tired ordinary people get of it.