The possible and probable influence of Zapatero in the rescue of Plus Ultra is the matter that concerns him and the most lacerating misdeed attributed to him, also linked to the ignominy of becoming a benefactor and chancellor of the Venezuelan tyranny; the jewels constitute the most thorny issue. Compulsive liars develop a recurring tic, like comedians: their overacting is an underline. Zapatero displays a prolonged throat-clearing and an abuse of onomatopoeias that increase the gravity of his tone, a pose of anguish, astonishment, and stupefaction that this Thursday he forced ebulliently, to the point of delirium and parody, on Sánchez’s TV. Zapatero always resorted to two arts to gain credibility: his liberality and his solemnity. He still exploits them. He showed understanding towards Julio Martínez.
The faker rehearses and uses gestures and contractions to avoid voids and contradictions. He resorted to Borges to defend his delicate circumstance: the charges and his ordeal are the “raw material” for his redemption and his subsequent legend. Sánchez’s morning show host did not present him with dilemmas or undeniable facts, nor did he refute the impostor’s constant denials. The questions were general in nature, they seemed surgical and sharp, but only because of the cadence of his voice and the narrowing of his eyes; they were vague and futile: “Mr. Zapatero, did you commit a crime?”. And so it went on. Regarding the jewels, Zapatero declared that it is “a story without intention or patrimonial desire; without use or destination.” His nonchalance contrasts with the initial refusal of his revered Gertrudis Alcázar to open the safe. The morning show host remained silent.
Zapatero denied everything with restrained and courteous fury: “No, no and no.” He neither created offshore companies, nor exerted political influence, nor obtained clients for Análisis Relevante, nor mediated with the Sepi nor with anyone in the Government, nor defrauded the Treasury… He defended his work and that of his daughters. In the end, the sentimental outpouring came: the organic journalist whispered about his daughters and Zapatero pretended to falter for a moment, but immediately recovered his smile to recall that 26 years ago he became the general secretary of the PSOE. He magnified his defense: climax.
He assured that the party has not abandoned him. His defense is that of the party, he subliminally conveyed at the height of his performance. Zapatero does not want fissures in the PSOE; Sánchez cannot afford them. But they exist. Zapatero is the still invisible thread that connects with La Moncloa and with Sánchez’s destiny.