El presidente Sánchez viaja en sus aviones privados del Estado, incluso en trayectos cortos que pueden cubrirse en coches.
Tres ejemplos del drama político español: el país tiene más aforados que el resto de la Unión Europea junta; el presidente del gobierno tiene más de mil asesores a su servicio y la mayor flota de coches oficiales del continente; España tiene más políticos en activo que Inglaterra, Alemania y Francia juntas.
El aforamiento reserva un fuero especial ante el Tribunal Supremo, alejando sus causas de los juzgados ordinarios; sus sueldos, ya elevados de partida, se multiplican con dietas, complementos, indemnizaciones y gratificaciones que convierten la actividad política en una profesión de lujo; las pensiones vitalicias siguen protegiendo a quienes acumulan años en el cargo o alcanzan determinadas posiciones; y a ello se suman exenciones fiscales, coches oficiales con conductor, escoltas, asistencia letrada pagada con dinero público y una protección institucional que convierte cada denuncia en un trámite interminable.
El resultado es una casta que vive al margen de las reglas que impone a los demás, con jueces a menudo complacientes, una tolerancia crónica hacia la corrupción y un poder que carece de controles y contrapesos efectivos.
Estos privilegios no se justifican por mérito, esfuerzo ni resultados. No responden a una escasez de candidatos capaces ni a una exigencia excepcional del cargo; responden a la captura del Estado por parte de quienes lo administran.
Mientras un funcionario medio o un trabajador del sector privado asume riesgos, rinde cuentas y puede ser despedido, el político profesional mantiene su estatus, sus ingresos y su impunidad incluso cuando sus decisiones provocan despilfarro, ineficacia o escándalos reiterados.
El mejor ejemplo de esta injusticia brutal es el del ministro español de Transportes Oscar Puente, que se niega a dimitir a pesar de que es responsable de dos accidentes de trenes de Alta velocidad en pocos meses, con más de un centenar de muertos.
La ausencia de mecanismos reales de responsabilidad —listas cerradas, partidos que actúan como máquinas de colocación, y un sistema que premia la lealtad sobre la competencia— convierte esos beneficios en un premio automático, no en una contraprestación por un servicio bien prestado.
El contraste con la realidad que sufren los ciudadanos es demoledor. La sanidad pública acumula listas de espera que convierten tratamientos urgentes en esperas de meses, pero el político es curado sin tener que esperar su turno; la educación entrega generaciones con resultados mediocres en las evaluaciones internacionales y con un sistema lastrado por la politización y la falta de exigencia; los transportes, especialmente el ferrocarril y las infraestructuras críticas, sufren retrasos, averías y sobrecostes que se pagan con los impuestos de quienes no viajan en coche oficial.
Al mismo tiempo, una parte sustancial de los medios de comunicación son del Estado o depende de subvenciones, publicidad institucional o favores regulatorios, lo que amortigua la crítica y convierte el escrutinio en un ejercicio selectivo.
El balance de décadas de poder en España es una clase dirigente podrida por la corrupción, sin apenas controles democráticos y un Estado hipertrofiado, endeudado y poco eficaz en lo esencial.
Semejante desequilibrio no es un accidente ni el precio inevitable de la democracia; es el producto de un diseño institucional que protege a los gobernantes de las consecuencias de sus actos. Mantener aforamientos, pensiones vitalicias, coches oficiales y el resto del repertorio de ventajas mientras los trenes chocan y los servicios básicos se degradan constituye un abuso evidente y una afrenta a la igualdad ante la ley.
Reducir esos privilegios al mínimo imprescindible —el que correspondería a cualquier cargo público temporal y sujeto a rendición de cuentas— es la condición necesaria para que el cargo público deje de ser un refugio y vuelva a ser un servicio.
Mientras eso no ocurra, la distancia entre quienes deciden y quienes padecen las decisiones seguirá creciendo, y con ella el descrédito de las instituciones, el empobrecimiento y la debilidad de la nación que los privilegiados corruptos gobiernan.
Francisco Rubiales
English version:
Spanish Politicians and Their Enormous Privileges
By Francisco Rubiales
The greatest scandal in Spanish politics, even greater than corruption, the abuse of power and the colonisation of institutions, is the immense array of undeserved privileges enjoyed by politicians, privileges that have no place in democracies.
Spanish politicians are today among the most privileged in Europe and probably in the world.
By contrast, they are also among the most despised and poorly regarded by the public, who frequently boo and jeer at President Sánchez and his ministers when they attend public events.
Being a politician in Spain is the shortest and easiest route for a mediocre individual to enjoy abundant power, influence and money, as well as a high degree of impunity.
Spanish politicians enjoy a catalogue of privileges that no ordinary citizen possesses or needs in order to do their job.
They are barely required to have any qualifications or merit. What they do need, however, is to have no scruples, to hate the truth, to be hypocritical, to know how to speak and lie, and to submit completely to the wishes of their leader.
It can be said without fear of error that Spanish politics is a closed preserve where the worst are rewarded and those with values and merit are kept out.
The visible result is a badly governed nation, in continuous decline and dominated by injustice, plunder, abuse of power and appalling corruption at the highest levels.
Three examples illustrate the scale of Spain's political problem: the country has more officials entitled to special jurisdiction than the rest of the European Union combined; the prime minister has more than a thousand advisers at his disposal and the largest fleet of official cars on the continent; and Spain has more active politicians than England, Germany and France combined.
Special jurisdiction gives certain officeholders access to a special legal forum before the Supreme Court, taking their cases away from ordinary courts. Their already substantial salaries are multiplied by allowances, supplements, compensation payments and bonuses, turning political activity into a luxury profession. Lifetime pensions continue to protect those who spend many years in office or reach certain positions. Added to this are tax exemptions, official cars with chauffeurs, bodyguards, legal assistance paid for with public money, and institutional protection that can turn every complaint into an endless procedure.
The result is a political caste living outside the rules it imposes on everyone else, with judges who are often accommodating, chronic tolerance of corruption and power lacking effective checks and balances.
These privileges cannot be justified by merit, effort or results. They do not respond to a shortage of capable candidates or to exceptional demands inherent in public office. They are the consequence of the capture of the State by those who administer it.
While an ordinary civil servant or private-sector worker takes risks, is held accountable and can be dismissed, the career politician retains their status, income and impunity even when their decisions cause waste, ineffectiveness or repeated scandals.
The absence of genuine accountability mechanisms — closed electoral lists, parties operating as job-placement machines, and a system that rewards loyalty over competence — turns these benefits into an automatic reward rather than compensation for a job well done.
The contrast with the reality faced by ordinary citizens is devastating.
The public healthcare system has waiting lists that can turn urgent treatment into months of waiting, while politicians receive treatment without having to wait their turn. Education sends out generations with mediocre results in international assessments and a system weighed down by politicisation and a lack of high standards. Transport, especially railways and critical infrastructure, suffers delays, breakdowns and cost overruns paid for by taxpayers who do not travel in official cars.
At the same time, a substantial part of the media is state-owned or dependent on subsidies, institutional advertising or regulatory favours, which dampens criticism and turns scrutiny into a selective exercise.
The balance sheet of decades of political power in Spain is a ruling class rotten with corruption, virtually devoid of democratic controls, and an oversized, indebted State that performs poorly in essential areas.
Such an imbalance is neither an accident nor an inevitable price of democracy. It is the product of an institutional design that shields those in government from the consequences of their actions. Maintaining special legal privileges, lifetime pensions, official cars and the rest of this catalogue of advantages while trains collide and basic services deteriorate is an obvious abuse and an affront to equality before the law.
Reducing these privileges to the bare minimum — what would be appropriate for any temporary public office subject to accountability — is a necessary condition for public office to cease being a refuge and become a service once again.
Until that happens, the distance between those who make decisions and those who suffer their consequences will continue to grow, along with the loss of confidence in institutions, impoverishment and the weakening of the nation governed by these corrupt beneficiaries of privilege.
Francisco Rubiales
El aforamiento reserva un fuero especial ante el Tribunal Supremo, alejando sus causas de los juzgados ordinarios; sus sueldos, ya elevados de partida, se multiplican con dietas, complementos, indemnizaciones y gratificaciones que convierten la actividad política en una profesión de lujo; las pensiones vitalicias siguen protegiendo a quienes acumulan años en el cargo o alcanzan determinadas posiciones; y a ello se suman exenciones fiscales, coches oficiales con conductor, escoltas, asistencia letrada pagada con dinero público y una protección institucional que convierte cada denuncia en un trámite interminable.
El resultado es una casta que vive al margen de las reglas que impone a los demás, con jueces a menudo complacientes, una tolerancia crónica hacia la corrupción y un poder que carece de controles y contrapesos efectivos.
Estos privilegios no se justifican por mérito, esfuerzo ni resultados. No responden a una escasez de candidatos capaces ni a una exigencia excepcional del cargo; responden a la captura del Estado por parte de quienes lo administran.
Mientras un funcionario medio o un trabajador del sector privado asume riesgos, rinde cuentas y puede ser despedido, el político profesional mantiene su estatus, sus ingresos y su impunidad incluso cuando sus decisiones provocan despilfarro, ineficacia o escándalos reiterados.
El mejor ejemplo de esta injusticia brutal es el del ministro español de Transportes Oscar Puente, que se niega a dimitir a pesar de que es responsable de dos accidentes de trenes de Alta velocidad en pocos meses, con más de un centenar de muertos.
La ausencia de mecanismos reales de responsabilidad —listas cerradas, partidos que actúan como máquinas de colocación, y un sistema que premia la lealtad sobre la competencia— convierte esos beneficios en un premio automático, no en una contraprestación por un servicio bien prestado.
El contraste con la realidad que sufren los ciudadanos es demoledor. La sanidad pública acumula listas de espera que convierten tratamientos urgentes en esperas de meses, pero el político es curado sin tener que esperar su turno; la educación entrega generaciones con resultados mediocres en las evaluaciones internacionales y con un sistema lastrado por la politización y la falta de exigencia; los transportes, especialmente el ferrocarril y las infraestructuras críticas, sufren retrasos, averías y sobrecostes que se pagan con los impuestos de quienes no viajan en coche oficial.
Al mismo tiempo, una parte sustancial de los medios de comunicación son del Estado o depende de subvenciones, publicidad institucional o favores regulatorios, lo que amortigua la crítica y convierte el escrutinio en un ejercicio selectivo.
El balance de décadas de poder en España es una clase dirigente podrida por la corrupción, sin apenas controles democráticos y un Estado hipertrofiado, endeudado y poco eficaz en lo esencial.
Semejante desequilibrio no es un accidente ni el precio inevitable de la democracia; es el producto de un diseño institucional que protege a los gobernantes de las consecuencias de sus actos. Mantener aforamientos, pensiones vitalicias, coches oficiales y el resto del repertorio de ventajas mientras los trenes chocan y los servicios básicos se degradan constituye un abuso evidente y una afrenta a la igualdad ante la ley.
Reducir esos privilegios al mínimo imprescindible —el que correspondería a cualquier cargo público temporal y sujeto a rendición de cuentas— es la condición necesaria para que el cargo público deje de ser un refugio y vuelva a ser un servicio.
Mientras eso no ocurra, la distancia entre quienes deciden y quienes padecen las decisiones seguirá creciendo, y con ella el descrédito de las instituciones, el empobrecimiento y la debilidad de la nación que los privilegiados corruptos gobiernan.
Francisco Rubiales
English version:
Spanish Politicians and Their Enormous Privileges
By Francisco Rubiales
The greatest scandal in Spanish politics, even greater than corruption, the abuse of power and the colonisation of institutions, is the immense array of undeserved privileges enjoyed by politicians, privileges that have no place in democracies.
Spanish politicians are today among the most privileged in Europe and probably in the world.
By contrast, they are also among the most despised and poorly regarded by the public, who frequently boo and jeer at President Sánchez and his ministers when they attend public events.
Being a politician in Spain is the shortest and easiest route for a mediocre individual to enjoy abundant power, influence and money, as well as a high degree of impunity.
Spanish politicians enjoy a catalogue of privileges that no ordinary citizen possesses or needs in order to do their job.
They are barely required to have any qualifications or merit. What they do need, however, is to have no scruples, to hate the truth, to be hypocritical, to know how to speak and lie, and to submit completely to the wishes of their leader.
It can be said without fear of error that Spanish politics is a closed preserve where the worst are rewarded and those with values and merit are kept out.
The visible result is a badly governed nation, in continuous decline and dominated by injustice, plunder, abuse of power and appalling corruption at the highest levels.
Three examples illustrate the scale of Spain's political problem: the country has more officials entitled to special jurisdiction than the rest of the European Union combined; the prime minister has more than a thousand advisers at his disposal and the largest fleet of official cars on the continent; and Spain has more active politicians than England, Germany and France combined.
Special jurisdiction gives certain officeholders access to a special legal forum before the Supreme Court, taking their cases away from ordinary courts. Their already substantial salaries are multiplied by allowances, supplements, compensation payments and bonuses, turning political activity into a luxury profession. Lifetime pensions continue to protect those who spend many years in office or reach certain positions. Added to this are tax exemptions, official cars with chauffeurs, bodyguards, legal assistance paid for with public money, and institutional protection that can turn every complaint into an endless procedure.
The result is a political caste living outside the rules it imposes on everyone else, with judges who are often accommodating, chronic tolerance of corruption and power lacking effective checks and balances.
These privileges cannot be justified by merit, effort or results. They do not respond to a shortage of capable candidates or to exceptional demands inherent in public office. They are the consequence of the capture of the State by those who administer it.
While an ordinary civil servant or private-sector worker takes risks, is held accountable and can be dismissed, the career politician retains their status, income and impunity even when their decisions cause waste, ineffectiveness or repeated scandals.
The absence of genuine accountability mechanisms — closed electoral lists, parties operating as job-placement machines, and a system that rewards loyalty over competence — turns these benefits into an automatic reward rather than compensation for a job well done.
The contrast with the reality faced by ordinary citizens is devastating.
The public healthcare system has waiting lists that can turn urgent treatment into months of waiting, while politicians receive treatment without having to wait their turn. Education sends out generations with mediocre results in international assessments and a system weighed down by politicisation and a lack of high standards. Transport, especially railways and critical infrastructure, suffers delays, breakdowns and cost overruns paid for by taxpayers who do not travel in official cars.
At the same time, a substantial part of the media is state-owned or dependent on subsidies, institutional advertising or regulatory favours, which dampens criticism and turns scrutiny into a selective exercise.
The balance sheet of decades of political power in Spain is a ruling class rotten with corruption, virtually devoid of democratic controls, and an oversized, indebted State that performs poorly in essential areas.
Such an imbalance is neither an accident nor an inevitable price of democracy. It is the product of an institutional design that shields those in government from the consequences of their actions. Maintaining special legal privileges, lifetime pensions, official cars and the rest of this catalogue of advantages while trains collide and basic services deteriorate is an obvious abuse and an affront to equality before the law.
Reducing these privileges to the bare minimum — what would be appropriate for any temporary public office subject to accountability — is a necessary condition for public office to cease being a refuge and become a service once again.
Until that happens, the distance between those who make decisions and those who suffer their consequences will continue to grow, along with the loss of confidence in institutions, impoverishment and the weakening of the nation governed by these corrupt beneficiaries of privilege.
Francisco Rubiales