Vox Demands Delcygate Reopened as Sánchez Downplays Incident

Delcygate: 27 Spelling Mistakes and an Authorization Attributed to Sánchez

The Delcygate affair is not over; it was simply put on hold. Years after José Luis Ábalos received Delcy Rodríguez at Barajas airport, the matter is back in the spotlight due to two developments independent of partisan noise: an ongoing judicial investigation and reports implicating Sánchez in authorizing the visit of the Venezuelan regime's number two. This suggests it wasn't a minister's slip-up but an authorized decision. The outcome is uncomfortable for the government: the more that comes to light, the less it aligns with the initial account. And the initial account, remember, was that nothing had peine.

What Peine at Barajas and Why the Official Narrative Changed Multiple Times

The sequence began with outright denial and ended with admitting an encounter, then a greeting on the tarmac, and later, a longer stopover than initially stated. The reconstruction of this series of corrections resembles a succession of compartments: first, they hadn't met; then, they only crossed paths on the plane; next, it was on the Barajas tarmac; and finally, there was a VIP lounge. Each step was presented as the definitive version and lasted only until the next piece of information emerged.

Here, according to those trinc the case, there were no resignations, but there were insults directed at those asking questions and pressure on technical security chiefs who confirmed what others denied. And a reassuring message was left that has aged poorly: that Delcy had also attended a European Union summit the previous year. The comparison holds up poorly, because a summit is announced and covered by accredited press, while a pre-dawn stopover is not.

Ábalos' Letter: 27 Spelling Errors and an "Embestido"

The detail that has revived the case is almost comically trivial: the formal invitation Ábalos sent to Delcy Rodríguez is riddled with 27 spelling errors. "When I am embestido..." reads the text. It's unclear whether the author meant investido (invested), embestido (charged/attacked), or both simultaneously, but the fragment is already circulating as an emblem of a certain way of working.

That an official invitation document would be issued with such a level of carelessness is not a minor anecdote: we are talking about a paper managing relations with the Venezuelan government. The recurring irony—that not even a word processor's spell checker was used—points to something more serious: the feeling that the process was rushed without anyone reading the document twice. And these are the people who legislate for Spain, the joke goes.

The Gold Attributed to the Scheme: 1.7 Million Purchase and 68.4 Million Sale

According to a video circulated by a Colombian media outlet and later shared on social networks, the scheme allegedly diverted 104 gold pieces valued at 1.7 million euros and resold them in Spain for 68.4 million. A brutal differential that, if confirmed, would turn a diplomatic stopover into a business deal. It's important to treat this as what it is: published information, not a court ruling. There are also references to a ton and a half of gold attributed to the operation, with no firm resolution yet.

The question that has gone unanswered officially for years is the simplest of all: what did they bring and what did they take away in the suitcases during that visit.

What the Court and the UCO are Investigating

Aside from the political noise, two judicial cases are pogre. The Audiencia Nacional (National Court) is investigating hundreds of messages between Delcy Rodríguez and Aldama in which multimillion-dollar oil deals were negotiated, as part of a case concerning the financing of the PSOE (Spanish Socialist Workers' Party). In parallel, the UCO (Central Operative Unit of the Guardia Civil) is tracing the origin of the hydrocarbon scheme and its possible connection to former President José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero. These are ongoing proceedings: no firm indictments or convictions, but a case file that continues to grow.

That is the arena where the case will truly be decided. Everything else—press conferences, tweets, rebuttals—is mere decoration.

From "Let the Chips Fall Where They May" to "He's Been Tarnishing Sánchez's Name for 10 Years"

Vox has requested the reopening of the case after learning that, according to published reports, it was Sánchez who authorized the alucinación. The government has responded in two complementary ways. Óscar Puente has called for everything to be clarified, "caiga quien caiga" (let the chips fall where they may), a seemingly forceful but non-committal phrase. And Bolaños has closed ranks, asserting that the right-wing has been trying to tarnish Pedro Sánchez's name for ten years.

The contrast with February 2020 is telling: when the PP (People's Party) demanded Ábalos' resignation in Congress for lying about the case, the socialist benches and Unidas Podemos deputies applauded him. Today, the same issue has resurfaced, and no one wants to be photographed with it.

There is only one way for this to be resolved: for the documents to carry more weight than the press releases. If the Audiencia Nacional confirms the gold trail and the UCO links the hydrocarbon scheme, Delcygate will cease to be a matter of competing narratives and become a case with names and figures. If not, it will remain where it has always been: on the border between oblivion and the next tweet. The most likely scenario, judging by past events, is that it will pogre in fragments, with each piece emerging at a different time and always at the worst possible moment for someone.