If Aldama is the GPS of the socialist underworld, Julito’s black notebook is Zapatero’s, and Leire’s blue notebook is Sánchez’s sewer diary. There is no doubt that Marlaska and his Interior Ministry thugs have lied, and that the P.S. in Leire Díaz’s sewer diary can only be Pedro Sánchez. Now, the key is to see whether the tyrant’s bet on time as a buffer against the electoral impact of his criminal exposure will work or crash against more revelations, the papal visit, or the penalties.
The Synodal Testament of Bergoglio
The selection will be seen in a couple of weeks, once Begoña and Zapatero have completed their joint penance of testifying before the judges. The journey of Leo XIV has already begun with signs worthy of comment, both from the progressive drift of the Church in Spain, whose symbol is the red Cobo, and from the confusion in the Vatican over Bergoglio’s legacy, the so-called synodality, a word without tradition but with a clear meaning: assembly-based, the substitution, in a Protestant manner, of the ecclesiastical hierarchy by a kind of meeting where laypeople vote, on the same level as cardinals and bishops, what can be called the politics of dogma, the Revelation put to a vote.
A Third of Cobo in ABC, mediocre in literary terms and devoid of any evangelical reference, insisted on the first day of the papal visit that the future of the Church is synodal, a phrase from Bergoglio against which the elderly Chinese cardinal Zen, a victim of communist prisons, rose in the presence of Leo XIV, saying it liquidated the hierarchy and the dogma, and reduced the divine character of the Church to a matter of opinion. He has not been the only cardinal to point this out, and it is said that Leo XIV, at the last synodal meeting, seated at round tables like at a wedding, did not endorse the direction marked by Bergoglio as his testament. This has given hope to the enemies of the tumultuous church, but the truth is that the new Pope did not close the door on the dangerous invention. And Bergoglio’s followers like Cobo maintain that it is the way to go.
To dispel doubts, the Pope’s first visit, with Cobo, was to a Caritas center, those red Christians, a breeding ground for Podemos, who never say Charity but Justice, in a poor neighborhood and found illegal immigrants who call themselves migrants, and gave him a residence card and sandals as an apostolic symbol. And of the communist Enver Hoxha. If this is what they’re doing in Madrid, what they might do in the Canary Islands, with three cayucos on the altar, could be much worse, with passport burnings and condemnation of borders.
Neither to Compostela nor to the Valley of the Fallen
Bergoglio hated Spain (that’s why he never came) both for its historical significance, from the Reconquista to the evangelization of America, and for the triumph of Franco’s Catholic army and the martyrs of the Civil War, the Triumphant Church that Rome condemned to ominous silence. Cobo, the soapy altar boy whom the Argentine made a cardinal, struck a deal with Bolaños to redefine, or rather, profane, the Valley of the Fallen. And the first steps of the Pope’s visit have been overwhelmingly Cobian. He did not go to Compostela—the mention of Santiago in his first speech did not fix it, quite the opposite—nor did he pray before the tallest cross in the world, which is the one in the Valley, condemned to demolition by Cobo.
The worst, however, was not the truth of the persecuted church that he hid, nor the mess he made commenting on San Juan de la Cruz, without the ‘san,’ but the genuflection before Islam, disguised as the lie of the coexistence of the three cultures during the centuries of Muslim rule, which never existed. What there was was a contract of translators by Alfonso X the Wise, who, at the same time, waged implacable war against Islam, conquered the Guadalquivir Valley with his father Fernando III the Holy, as well as the kingdom of Murcia. The School of Translators of Toledo is not a symbol of coexistence, but of Christian tolerance, of the recovery, via Baghdad, of the Greek root of Western thought and the Hebrew and Latin sacred texts. Catholic means universal, and that was the design of Alfonso X, as it was of the Catholic Monarchs, who, after conquering Granada after ten years of war, left the Alhambra, today with the Palace of Charles V, as much a Bernini as the Vatican.
Leo XIV pretends to be the pacifist anti-Trump, not anti-Iran, not anti-Hamas, not anti-Boko Haram, not anti-Xi Jinping. The massacres of Christians concern him less than those of Islamic terrorists and their social environment. But Spain, which is to say the history of Catholicism, poses a problem for him: our nation is born or reborn with the Reconquista, has always defended the Faith of Christ. Faithful to Rome, it has fought all heresies. The Catholicism that survives today is the work of Spain with the Cross and the Sword. And the last time the faith of our people was put to the test was in the Civil War, where, after thousands of martyrs, the Catholic side, Franco’s, ultimately triumphed. Will the Church, with Leo XIV, continue—with Cobo, we already know the answer—to spit, like socialists and communists, on the grave of the man who saved it?
The miracle of beauty, the charm of the rite
It is to this revision of history, to this forgetful memory, that P.S., read P.S.O.E. or Pedro Sánchez, besieged by judges and his crimes, clings. At the end of the papal visit we will see whether it was justified or not. It is very possible that the beauty of the rites, the elegance of the Royal Palace, the charm of Gaudí, and the joy of the faithful will sow faith and reap love for Spain, on the eve of a recristianization that would mean a national recovery. Let us hope so. Meanwhile, keep an eye on Cobo, on Sánchez, and on the Vatican cayucos.