Pinned with Pins, Bound with Wire

The coalition that keeps Pedro Sánchez in power today resembles a haphazard contraption more than a stable government — pinned together with makeshift safety pins and bound with wire, functional only as long as it serves its purpose.

Fragile. Improvised. Barely holding on. That, in a nutshell, is the reality of Sánchez’s ties to his most marginal allies. For a moment, this scrappy alliance seemed to deliver political results. But now the seams are splitting, and each actor is beginning to reveal his true interests. The central question is no longer whether Sánchez wants to stay in power — that’s obvious — but whether he still can.

There is no denying Sánchez’s political skill. He may not be the most honest or transparent leader in Spanish politics today, but he is undoubtedly the most adept. He moves through the wreckage of his own broken promises with chameleon-like agility — shifting positions without a hair out of place, retreating only to leap forward two squares on the board. He has perfected that sleight of hand so well that you only notice he’s changed stance after he’s already there.

In that sense, he resembles one of those carnival illusionists who have the audience applauding while they quietly empty your pockets.

But the true measure of leadership isn’t theatrical flourish or tactical acumen alone — it’s the capacity to sustain authority. And here Sánchez’s power has visibly eroded. The fissures within his own ranks are no longer discreet or whispered — they are open and widening. Some withdraw out of sheer weariness. Others because they are beginning to realize the music the Titanic was playing was never a serenade.

What’s striking — and deeply troubling — is that this decomposition is not confined to the PSOE. It is occurring across the political spectrum, even within Vox. Degradation respects no ideological colour; it afflicts both radical left and brash right with equal disregard.

Sánchez has so far demonstrated an almost surgical talent for withstanding crossfire. His alliance strategy is a blend of unscrupulous pragmatism and stylish cynicism. What in another politician might be a stain is, for him, merely a footnote. It’s as if every blow simply slides off that institutional impermeable jacket he wears.

But politics is not merely rational calculation or cool arithmetic of forces. Invisible variables — egos, moods, signals, gestures, betrayals, collective temperaments — operate in the shadows. Sánchez has benefited from the luck of circumstance: a weak and fragmented opposition, a media environment that generally preferred to look elsewhere, and timing that favoured his survival. Yet all of that has an expiration date.

Power appears solid — until it is not. And when a leader as accustomed to setting the rules as Sánchez puts a knee to the ground, politics becomes cruel. Very cruel. In this line of work, like in the octagon, the fallen are not forgiven.

He has used every resource at his disposal with virtuosity. The problem isn’t his lack of talent — it’s that talent without ethical limits becomes toxic. And that poison is now beginning to reach those who once accompanied him.

As Talleyrand once put it, “All excess is insignificant.” In its zeal to control everything, Sánchez’s coalition is becoming insignificant itself. The more it negotiates, the more it dissolves. The more it clings to survival, the clearer it becomes that — in truth — it is merely surviving.

If this balance finally breaks, if the cracks become open fissures, what comes next won’t be glory nor a dignified exit — it will be a fall.

One might ask if this situation is fixable, if there’s still a compass inside this carnival of power. But then real politics — the daily grind of corridors, whispers, betrayals, silences, hidden polls and brooding feuds fermenting like over-pressed cider — makes it clear: collapse is not an event, it’s a process.

In politics, as in climbing, when the abyss draws near, hands let go. They always let go.

Albert Camus wrote, “The absurd is born of this confrontation between the human demand and the unreasonable silence of the world.” In the end, Sánchez’s Sanchism clings by nails and teeth to absurdity — but absurdity has limits, and gravity — whether political, ethical, or literal — always does its work.