Unravelling the great secret behind Pedro Sánchez's letter
Keep in mind that the verb ‘resign’ is not in Pedro Sánchez Pérez-Castejón's personal dictionary. But, if you have nothing better to do, you can waste your time racking your brains and continue plucking the daisy: if he will resign, he won't resign, if he will resign, he won't resign...
The three-page letter he circulated on Wednesday afternoon, 24 April, has been scrutinised in minute detail by the most prestigious political analysts. However, none of them have found the key to one of the phrases that his ardent admirers say the beloved leader himself has written.
And yet the decision to be taken by the president is already expressed in the text. It is there, right under our noses. Had it not been for my masked infiltrator in the BATAPLOF, the Battalion of Advisors of the Moncloa Palace, the surprise we would have been in for next Monday, with the whole of Spain and the world in a state of shock, would have been morroccotic.
As is well known, the President's missive, disseminated via the Social Network X, reveals that he is reserving five days to ‘reflect and decide which path to take’. I underline it and put it in italics: to reflect in order to decide the WAY he is going to take.
The way, that's the key
Attention! Pedro Sánchez is going to announce on Monday urbi et orbe that he is going to apply to join Opus Dei. This has been discovered by my astute spy, whom I will call ‘El topo de la Moncloa’ (the Moncloa mole) to preserve his identity.
The president has granted himself a period of five days to meditate on his immediate future. He has locked himself in the Moncloa Palace and is living like an anchorite, on water and garlic soup.
He is dedicated body and soul to reading, rereading and reflecting on the contents and recommendations of ‘The Way’, the book written by St. José María Escrivá de Balaguer, the guide of the members of the Prelature of the Holy Cross, better known as Opus Dei, to whom I dedicate all my consideration and respect.
As a repentant sinner, Pedro Sanchez wants to join the Work as a supernumerary and put his sorrowful life back on track. And two of his most faithful and blessed squires in the Executive are advising him and accompanying him in the momentous step he is about to take.
They are the first vice-president and head of the Treasury, Maria Jesús Montero, who applauds the president's every word and gesture. And the minister, Félix Bolaños, who identifies the right-wing political parties as a pack of hounds. But he does not dare with his Catalan and Basque separatist allies, who show no interest in condemning those who have shot innocent people in the head and in the back.
With a cilice to mortify himself
So I anticipate that on Monday, the television cameras will be able to observe a totally changed Pedro Sánchez. They will see a humble person, who has ignored his admirers and who is going to make public his firm decision to join Opus Dei. He is ready to abandon his path of sins and dedicate himself to a Christian life, devoted to doing good to left and right... especially to the left.
My mole in the Moncloa, looking through the keyhole of the president's office, tells me that he has seen that Sánchez has already made a kind of act of contrition. His new ideal is to reinvent himself and stop being considered a bad guy by a large part of the Spanish population and abroad.
Pedro wants to join the Opus Dei Prelature and dedicate himself to redeeming his great faults against all or many of the ten commandments of the Tablets of the Law. As a first step, the new Sanchez is going to recommend to his wife Begoña and his brother David that they divest themselves of whatever remains of the business set-up they have each built up.
The millions of euros that Begoña and David have allegedly earned by the sweat of their brows, Pedro seems to have asked them to please spend it on charity, on helping the underprivileged, on providing decent housing for squatters.
By the way, my mole in the Moncloa clarifies that the apparent anger shown by Pedro Sánchez in his appearance in Congress on 24 April was not such. His sorrowful, regretful face was due to the pain caused by the sackcloth he wore under his shirt. With this instrument of mortification around his waist, he was beginning the journey of purging his sins.
Others are not of the same opinion. They envisage that the president's last speech from his seat in Congress was the first act of a performance in front of the gallery, an operation organised by the BATAPLOF. Those who think so recall the tune sung back in the 1960s by the Cuban singer La Lupe, entitled ‘Teatro, lo tuyo es puro teatro’ (Theatre, yours is pure theatre). Monday will clear up the mystery, although as I have said on other occasions... I know you bacalao, even if you come in disguise.