‘Polarization’ was the trend of the past year, and its merit cannot be denied. Polarizing means steering in two opposing directions. For far too long, Spanish politics has operated by opposing someone whenever action is taken. A Democracy Report 2022 from the University of Gothenburg shows that political polarization in Spain rose by 114 percent over the last decade. Where did this mess come from? When did Spanish politics go wrong? No one has a definitive answer, but March marks the moment to reflect as twenty years have passed since a seismic event with lasting aftershocks.
The cost of the 11M attacks was paid in lives cut short, in shattered families, in a deep collective pain. The tragedy at Atocha also seeded a fracture that has grown, fed by political parties, new communication forms, and stubborn social discontent following repeated economic crises. Various experts examine some of the consensuses that broke on that March morning.
The truth: “Not in distant deserts or in faraway mountains.”
The remarks by the former president at a parliamentary commission continue to echo, fueling doubts about who was responsible. Post-truth. Alternate facts. Conspiracy theories. These concepts describe the international political drift in the last decade. But in Spain they carried a founding moment during those days. “The 11M anticipated Trumpism, QAnon, conspiracy theories, and electoral denialism from neofascists,” says Victor Sampedro, a professor of Political Communication at the Rey Juan Carlos University.
The expert points to a difference. Unlike conspiracy theories circulating on social networks today, the problem here was not born inside the political or information systems. Sampedro, author of Voices of the 11M, argues it comes from one of the two main governing parties and from some media outlets that gain viewers by feeding these lies, a phenomenon the author labels as victims of deceit.
The scale of information at those hours is one aspect currently being reviewed: the insistence on ETA as the author, pressure on editors, maneuvers before the UN which issued a resolution condemning the terrorist group, TVE’s veto of an interview with a former U.S. president on the eve of the election, and long-run theories celebrated on certain covers or in Congress. The issue, the professor argues, is that Spanish democracy failed to deliver results. “The gravity of what happened then is extraordinary. A lack of accountability from politicians and journalists has produced a state of democratic introversion that threatens freedoms and the regime. All political actors feel exonerated, free to tell the biggest lies every day.” Journalism has not recovered a single protocol to ensure professional journalism stands out or a viable business model to support it, he notes, pointing to a broader decline in standards and profitability.
The distrust: “Who did it?”
Lying as a political communications tool is not new, says Xavier Coller, professor of Sociology and Political Science. “Perhaps what was new is the intensity and reach. The mobilization sparked by the sense of being deceived was significant,” he notes.
For some voices who lived through those days, the 11M planted a seed of distrust. The former director of a major newspaper has traced there the germ of the No nos representan movement and the 2011 indignados. The divide between representatives and the governed fed Podemos later. “Until that moment you could suspect the government was propagandizing, but the revelation of so many deaths was a social shock with major political repercussions,” says Isaura Navarro, one of the younger deputies to enter Congress that March day with a leftist coalition. “When it becomes obvious, a tremendous social unease follows. That is when many things started moving in Spain. The 2008-10 crisis added to it: crisis management meant budget cuts. There was a political crisis, a loss of trust toward institutions,” she adds.
Coller argues that the issue was not merely a crisis of a political elite but a demand for truth from a government. Victor Sampedro senses a first divorce between the population and institutions as many Spaniards protested and questioned the government of the day with the essential question: “Who did it?” The professor outlines a continuity between the social fabric fighting misinformation around the Prestige and the Iraq war, the protests at party headquarters, and the post-crisis discontent that fueled the 15M movement. “There is a social fabric with enough vitality to express itself autonomously,” he notes.
The mobilization: “Spread the word.”
It became the most important SMS in Spain’s history. “Aznar with a clean slate? The day of reflection and Urdaci working? Today, March 13, at 6 p.m., party headquarters at C/Génova 13. No parties. Silence for truth. Share it.” That call marked an unprecedented moment in Spain: direct protest became normalized. The entire political spectrum has faced sit-ins and closures at party headquarters in various years and places. “I recall that moment as a time when the PSOE surrounded PP offices nationwide on election night. It wasn’t just about protesting at offices; it was about opposing what the PSOE did on the day of reflection. It was inexcusable,” says Miguel Barrachina, then a new deputy from Castellón in 2004.
The day of the Spread story foreshadowed the era of mobilizing through social networks. “The 11M was the first major digital activism in Spain,” notes Alex Comes, a political consultant. “Messages focused on personal spheres but were also used by various organizations for promotional actions and, as shown after the 11M, as tools of citizen mobilization,” he adds.
The impact of social networks has surpassed being a mere channel. They now help shape the message: “Hoaxes have always existed, but the rise of messaging and networks makes their diffusion and credibility far greater. These messages contribute to the current climate of extreme polarization that our society experiences and fuel political disengagement,” the expert explains.
Polarization as a political legitimacy issue: “A government viewed as illegitimate.”
Before questioning a prime minister, the idea of illegitimacy had already echoed after the 2004 election and the 14M victories. Some forums echoed the notion that the government won the elections but violated voters by attacking them. “There is no heavier charge against a political rival than that a government that won in the polls could endanger or harm the voters themselves; such a claim persisted for twenty years,” Victor Sampedro asserts.
The following legislature became a battleground for a louder dose of disagreement. It marked periods of the phrase “Spain is breaking apart” and “You betray the dead and revived a dying ETA” from different political leaders. The back-and-forth and heightened rhetoric created a long-lasting pattern of division that still reverberates in the national conversation.
“From that moment on, debates lost their rigor. They turned into personal attacks and insults among politicians. It was unprecedented,” Navarro reflects. Barrachina recalls a contrasting view: “Both Zapatero and Pedro Sánchez, in strategic calculations, believed that by intensifying politics and widening ideological divides, the left would prevail. The moment exposed intolerance in the leadership and in the political discourse.”
Is it polarization or mere spectacle? Xavier Coller’s new book, The Theatricalization of Politics in Spain (2024), argues that despite ongoing clashes, party agreements still exist and legislative cooperation remains relatively high. “On average, laws are passed with only about 10 percent of votes against them. This was higher at the start of democracy and has declined since then,” he says.
Navarro also emphasizes the advances seen in the early years of democracy, such as the Dependency Law, gender violence law, equality law, same-sex marriage, and rapid divorce. Several of these laws were achieved with a high degree of cross-party support. Barrachina even recalls contributing to parts of the Dependency law’s preamble.
Yet the consequences of this era were real. Coller’s research shows that parliamentary strife translates into social tension, including symbolic violence, radicalization, disengagement, distrust, and the erosion of institutional legitimacy. In short, a retreat of public institutions.
“I am very pessimistic because I see who sits in the seats, what they do, and what they say. You cannot wake up every day to a shout. For citizens, it is disastrous. There is a real risk that some people will question the value of democratic institutions. The Chinese model becomes more appealing to the young. That is the bigger problem,” he concludes.