On 31 May 2018, Pedro Sánchez, then the socialist opposition leader, delivered a powerful speech introducing the motion of no confidence that led to him becoming prime minister for the first time. It was a passionate speech, laced with detail. His target was the serving conservative PM, Mariano Rajoy, and his central argument for ousting Rajoy was the widespread corruption in the governing party, which Spain’s highest criminal court had confirmed just days earlier.
“Corruption acts as a corrosive and profoundly harmful force for any nation. It erodes society’s trust in its leaders and consequently weakens the authority of the state. But it also strikes at the very root of social cohesion,” Sánchez said. “Corruption undermines faith in the rule of law when it is left to run rampant or when there is no political response commensurate with the harm caused. Ultimately, corruption destroys trust in institutions, and more profoundly, in politics itself, when there is no decisive reaction grounded in exemplary conduct.”
Sánchez promised “democratic renewal” and higher standards. But seven years on, here we are, facing yet another corruption scandal, this time implicating senior figures in his own party. Allegations against party and government officials include kickbacks from companies that were awarded public contracts. Some of the business figures involved even worked for corporations named in the cases that toppled Rajoy.
To make matters worse, the affair has exposed worrying levels of machismo, with leaked audio tape emerging in which crude remarks about women and sex workers are exchanged.
Sánchez has apologised to the public repeatedly, distancing himself and the Spanish Socialist Workers’ party (PSOE) from those under investigation and launching an internal audit. He insists this is not a party-wide issue. But the damage is already done.
We still don’t know the full scope of the scandal, whether those alleged to have been involved acted for personal enrichment, for the benefit of the party, or both. Crucially, it’s still unclear whether the prime minister had any knowledge of what was going on. Sánchez firmly denies any knowledge and has dismissed the two figures at the centre of the scandal, both longtime allies: José Luis Ábalos, a former minister and now independent MP, and Santos Cerdán, one of the prime minister’s closest associates and a leading figure in the PSOE. Both men have denied any wrongdoing.
Whatever comes next, it is staggering that nearly 50 years after Spain’s return to democracy – this November marks the anniversary of Francisco Franco’s death – corruption keeps polluting politics.
The first big political scandals of the democracy era happened under the socialist prime minister Felipe González, at a time when the new administration was still immature. There was a low bar for public scrutiny and a poor regulatory framework for the booming economy of the 80s and early 90s.
But, even after public contrition and supposed lessons learned, the list of corruption scandals has kept growing – particularly, but not only, within Spain’s two mainstream parties. What’s the excuse now?
Beyond the kickbacks affair, Sánchez is also contending with investigations related to his wife and his brother. They all deny wrongdoing, and these claims appear thinner than others, but the political toll adds up.
Meanwhile, the conservative People’s party (PP) is still tainted by very serious scandals. The most notorious is Gürtel, a vast corruption network involving kickbacks for public contracts that led to high-profile convictions of party officials and businessmen.
In Madrid, the regional president’s partner is being prosecuted for tax fraud and other charges. This case has also morphed into a legal battle with the attorney general over media leaks.
So why does this keep happening in Spain?
Part of the answer lies in the lack of strong rules and independent oversight to hold politicians and other public officials accountable. Parliamentary checks are weak, transparency standards are low and the sanctions against companies complicit in corruption are insufficient. Oversight bodies are frequently toothless or politicised, and ethical codes are either vague or unenforced. This vacuum creates fertile ground for impunity.
Sánchez continues to speak of “democratic renewal”. However, like his predecessors, he has made no real effort to establish independent bodies to oversee public appointments, regulate lobbying, enforce transparency rules or protect whistleblowers. Even a basic register of lobbyists remains absent.
Sánchez is right when he says that not all politicians are the same. But his coalition government, now with only a slim majority in parliament, has fallen short in delivering the kind of reforms needed to make people see that tarring every politician with the same brush is unfair.
Sánchez has often expressed concerns about misinformation and low-quality journalism – certainly issues in Spain, as in many European countries – but he has failed to strengthen the independence of the public broadcaster, as he promised in his speech in 2018. In fact, the oversight board has been further politicised.
Civio, a news outlet focused on transparency, is taking the government to court over its refusal to disclose the names of political advisers.
These shortcomings were highlighted just weeks ago by the Council of Europe’s anti-corruption watchdog, Greco which criticised Spain’s slow pace in adopting previous recommendations, such as tougher oversight of “revolving doors” and party financing.
The PP hasn’t even been particularly eager either to strengthen transparency or public scrutiny, perhaps calculating that the system could serve its interests if it returns to power.
Miriam González Durántez, founder of the civic group España Mejor, which advocates for reform, submitted a draft ethics code to 400 public institutions and officials after touring regional and local government across Spain for months of research. As of March, not a single one had committed to adopting her proposals, she said.
No wonder there has been a collapse in public trust. Surveys consistently show that Spaniards, more than people in other European democracies, view political parties and politicians among the least trustworthy of their institutions. According to the Reuters Institute 2025 Digital News Report, 57% of Spaniards identify politicians as the main source of disinformation, 10 percentage points above the global average of the 48 countries in the study.
This pervasive disappointment must weaken political engagement, fuel apathy and feed populist and even authoritarian movements.
As the PSOE grapples with its current troubles, a familiar question remains unanswered: is this a case of a few rotten apples, or evidence of deeper rot? But the answer may not even matter to such a disillusioned public. Spain doesn’t just need a wave of resignations or dismissals, but structural reforms – oversight of public officials, tighter party finance rules, effective enforcement and a culture shift toward real accountability.
Without that, this won’t be the last scandal. It will simply be the last one before the next.