Alvise’s unproven European election fraud claims

Alvise and the unproven European election fraud allegations

Neither the fraud nor the hoax has been fully resolved. Alvise Pérez, leader of Se Acabó la Fiesta (The Party Is Over), gains traction whenever an alleged message of his spreads faster than its denial. The latest episode trinc this pattern: a screenshot supposedly showing him disparaging his voters. It does not appear on his official Telegram channel. On Instagram, it surfaces only as a repost from another account, lacking original metadata. Yet it has been shared widely as if it were an official statement. In electoral politics, the line between a hoax and a fact is defined by who withstands scrutiny.

Verifying the hoax: Empty Telegram and borrowed Instagram

Those attempting to verify the claim have failed to close the case. Investigations agree: nothing similar exists on the official Telegram channel, and the Instagram post is merely a third-party re-share. This alone does not prove the message false, but it shifts the burden of proof. A hoax cannot be refuted with another hoax. Some label it outright fabrication, noting that such screenshots often emerge when the figure is under intense media focus.

Distrust stems from more than just this incident. Capture and run: the pattern repeats whenever Alvise is attributed an uncomfortable statement. First comes the image, then the denial, rarely the original source. A poorly constructed hoax harms its creator more than its recipient.

Why suspicion of vote rigging in the European elections?

Because many results do not align with sociological voting maps. Junts per Catalunya appears as the most voted party in areas without traditional Catalan nationalist support: Lavapiés, Madrid neighborhoods, Zaragoza, Oviedo, Asturias. The phenomenon even has a nickname: "Castizo" votes for Junts. When a party wins where unexpected, the simple explanation—a shifting electorate—competes with the uncomfortable one—a flawed count.

This is compounded by testimonies from polling station members. One observer claims to have counted 175 votes at their station, with only 7 going to Alvise, while the majority went to PSOE among older voters. Another reviewed their school, consisting of two sections, stating that 3 votes for Frente Obrero—all they had—disappeared in one section, while the other showed the 2 votes recorded in the minutes; Vox and Junts received between 50 and 70 votes per section. These are isolated testimonies, lacking official verification, and must be read as such.

Why can’t you see photos of your polling station’s minutes?

The central question is not who won, but why the count is accepted blindly. Photos taken by polling station presidents and uploaded to the platform are not publicly accessible. As long as this remains true, any fraud allegation lacks the simplest form of evidence. Proponents argue that publishing these images would be the greatest democratic advance in years, surpassing any cosmetic reform.

The bait, the recount, and who pays the price

There is a cynical interpretation that currently best explains the noise: Alvise sets the bait, and parties take it. The argument is that he forces others to demand a recount of minutes, something they wouldn't do without the scandal. Vox has already announced it will attend the review. The underlying bet is that a handful of miscounted stations suffice to shift seats.

If the recount confirms what algorithms suggest, there will be political upheaval. If it does not, the accuser loses credibility. And if no one verifies anything, everyone remains equally convinced, except that the hoax has already done its work.