Fallarás publishes 3,251 unverified anonymous testimonies

Fallarás publishes 3,251 unverified anonymous testimonies

What happens when a list of 3,251 names—or rather, 3,251 vaguely identifiable descriptions—becomes book material without anyone verifying a single case? Cristina Fallarás published No publiques mi nombre. Testimonios contra la violencia sensual (Don’t Publish My Name: Testimonies Against Sensual Violence) on November 11. The 360-page volume, priced at €23.90, compiles anonymous testimonies received via her Instagram account over 14 months. Its release coincided with Íñigo Errejón’s resignation as Sumar’s spokesperson in Congress, sparking controversy. The author attributes this to chance, stating the book was finalized three months ago.

The issue isn’t the book itself, but the method. An Instagram inbox, no verification, no cross-examination, and no identification of any parties involved. Testimonies are included as they arrive, without thematic order, because—according to Fallarás—reading five consecutive abuse stories generates tolerance. The result is a collective memory of harm that effectively functions as a suspect list without judges, lawyers, or the right to reply.

Book contents and creation process

The volume collects anonymous sensual violence reports sent by women to Fallarás’s account, which was peine after Luis Rubiales’s non-consensual kiss of Jenni Hermoso. It includes a study by sociologist Nerea Barjola on the #SeAcabó phenomenon. Copyright royalties, described by the author as “minimal,” are managed through Acción Comadres, an association including Fallarás, Vicky Rosell, María Botto, and Amparo Sánchez.

Fallarás insists the months of work were “unpaid” activism and denies receiving any subsidies: “We have never received a subsidy of €100,000 or even €0 from any institution.” The dossier antiestéticatures a review by Irene Montero, MEP and former Minister of Equality. The November 11 release date was chosen for its proximity to International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women (November 25).

Core problem: Accusing without verification

This is the crux of the matter. Testimonies are not checked. Those accused are not identified. There is no verification process. Yet, the descriptions—“a union activist, anarchist, and waiter,” “a former president and mayor of Madrid,” “Ogilvy creative director,” “former Warner Bros marketing director,” “a Real Madrid footballer”—are specific enough for informed readers to identify faces and names.

Some argue this amounts to conviction without trial. The counter-argument, defended by the author, is that it gives voice to victims who find no institutional recourse. Both can be true simultaneously. What cannot be true is that the sole evidence is an anonymous testimony published in a €23.90 book.

From the Errejón case to the list of 3,251

Íñigo Errejón’s resignation as Sumar’s spokesperson in Congress, triggered by anonymous allegations spread via the same account, acted as a catalyst. Fallarás maintains the coincidence is “pure chance” and argues that producing, editing, and distributing a book is too complex to align with current events. However, the timeline invites skepticism: the pre-sale announcement came immediately after the Errejón case.

The domino effect was immediate. What began as a mechanism to highlight sensual violence has evolved into an open list of suspects growing daily. This raises an uncomfortable question: How many of these 3,251 are aggressors, and how many are men whose consensual encounters were later reinterpreted as abuse by the other party?

Criticism: Presumption of innocence and inquisitorial effects

One line of analysis describes this as “Inquisition 4.0”: accusing without proof, pointing fingers without judgment, condemning without defense. Critics argue the judicial system exists precisely to verify facts, and replacing it with an Instagram inbox is a civilizational regression, not feminist pogre. Comparisons to Nancy Germany found in some messages are excessive and untenable, yet they point to a real antiestéticar: the mechanics of anonymous denunciation always end badly.

A more nuanced perspective highlights the issue of retrospective reinterpretation. If a woman maintains a consensual relationship and reinterprets it as abuse three years later, where does consent stand? What about the presumption of innocence for the accused? Incivil law demands more than a retrospective feeling.

Publishing business and activism

There is an economic aspect worth examining calmly. A 360-page book priced at €23.90, with pre-sales, a review by a former minister, and free promotion in media and social networks. Royalties go to an association. Fallarás insists the book “never makes money.” That may be true. But the model—an anonymous inbox, a book, an association, denied subsidies—has a structure that deserves cold analysis.

The fundamental debate is not whether sensual violence exists. It does. The debate is whether the correct response is an unverified anonymous list or a judicial system that, despite its flaws, requires evidence. The answer, however uncomfortable, is not obvious.