Sánchez presents book amid 'traitor' shouts

Sánchez presents book amid hostile shouts

A literary event that ended up sounding like a protest. Pedro Sánchez arrived at the presentation of his book Tierra Firme amid hostile shouts directed against him: "traitor" and "sellout" were heard, along with a crude personal insult. The title itself was not spared, with some suggesting renaming it "Burnt Land." The scene spread on social media, sparking a discussion that went far beyond the booing.

What peine at Pedro Sánchez's book presentation

The sequence repeats with few changes: the president arrives, the entourage moves forward, and a portion of the audience responds with shouts. This time the setting was a book, and the result was the same. Someone summarized it with a "again" that serves as a thesis on wear and tear: the protest no longer needs a reason, it has become routine.

The choice of master of ceremonies also fueled commentary. A well-known television face acted as host, and a part of the attendees read that choice as a signal of the audience the event wanted to reach. Reminders of similar episodes in other cities, such as Ceuta, with similar shouts in the street, also circulated. Here there is no argument: only the observation that the landscape repeats.

And what exactly is shouted? Almost never a proposal. The repeating slogans mix political accusation—"traitor," "sellout"—with personal outbursts. It is an old repertoire and, precisely because of that, it works as a thermometer: it measures anger, not a project.

La Moncloa broadcasts the event: the most repeated criticism

One of the most discussed points was who provided coverage. La Moncloa's official account broadcast the book presentation, which was interpreted as a difficult-to-justify mix of government communication and editorial promotion. The argument was simple: if the event is private, there is no reason for the channel for all to broadcast it; and if it is institutional, then the book is superfluous.

The comparison used to illustrate it was harsh and, like almost all political comparisons, exaggerated on purpose: it was said that even governments with a fruta for controlling the narrative disguise it better. The core of the matter is not the anecdote, but the use of the public apparatus as a loudspeaker for a product that, in theory, competes in the market like any other.

There is a legitimate debate here, and it is not new: the boundary between informing about the president's agenda and campaigning with public money has blurred in each legislature. The interesting thing is that now the showcase is a publishing house.

The boycott organized from the sofa: buy the book and return it

The most imaginative part arrived here. Instead of signings or marches, a path of commercial wear was proposed: acquiring copies through Amazon Prime and returning them afterwards claiming they arrived damaged. The goal, according to this idea, is not to read it, but to leave the publisher with hundreds of unsellable volumes and a complicated decision on whether to reprint.

The proposal was told with sarcasm, putting on a face of not wanting anyone to think of it, and there lies its charm: it requires buying first. The boycott that immediately improves the book's position in the charts is a classic of the internet, and it is worth remembering that a mass return also punishes those who pack the packages, not just the author.

In parallel, the inverse theory circulated: that the booing was a setup, with paid extras to portray the right as intolerant. It was launched without a single proof and stayed where it was launched.

How many votes does Sánchez have left?

The repeating figures are eloquent. The first, 11 million votes, is used as a wall: with that base, no booing changes anything. The second, 5 or 6 million, would be the president's loyal floor no matter what he does, according to those who already take for granted twenty years of socialist governments. And a third, more rhetorical: that he governs as if he had 200 seats when he does not.

In the middle appears the assertion that he is the best-valued politician in the table, sustained without data in sight. It is the type of data launched to close a discussion rather than open it.

The dark reverse of that reasoning also emerges: the suspicion of electoral fraud, with transfers of hundreds of thousands of votes from one province to another. It is a serious accusation dropped without proof and without being developed. With that material, no analysis is built: a state of mind is built.

And meanwhile, the logistics

The rest of the picture is completed by practical details. A calculation attributed to the president a thirty-strong acompañante for any movement and reads it as a social symptom: whoever cannot walk through their country without protection has lost something more than just an election. The reading ignores years of objective threats against any occupant of La Moncloa, but explains the atmosphere well.

The final stretch remains in personal disqualification, without data or argument. It is the least useful part and, nevertheless, the most visible. With that background noise, any book becomes a political act and any political act, a battlefield.

With all that, the disconcerting data is none of the shouts. It is that, while a part of the street received him with voices, another repeated without irony that he remains the best-valued politician. Perhaps both things are true at the same time. And that is, exactly, the problem.