Key Facts
- ✓ Spanish political culture is deeply influenced by the proverb 'Al enemigo, ni agua,' which translates to 'To the enemy, not even water.'
- ✓ In the 19th century, governments in Palma repeatedly covered and uncovered the chests of sphinx statues on the Paseo del Born based on their political affiliation.
- ✓ The Burgos AVE station is currently dedicated to the socialist figure Rosa Manzano, while a similar dedication to conservative Loyola de Palacio is considered politically impossible.
- ✓ Since the Transition, political sensibilities in Spain have skewed significantly to the left, making recognition for right-wing figures increasingly rare.
- ✓ Even a critical assessment of former Prime Minister José María Aznar required extensive archival research to find, and was limited to acknowledging slight improvements in unemployment and administrative efficiency.
A Tradition of Denial
Political discourse in Spain has long been characterized by a particular cultural phenomenon: the systematic refusal to grant any concession to political opponents. This is not merely a modern development but a deeply rooted tradition, captured in the Spanish proverb "Al enemigo, ni agua" (To the enemy, not even water).
The sentiment transcends borders, but its expression in Spain has taken uniquely visual and public forms. From the naming of streets to the dedication of public monuments, the political landscape has often been a battleground for memory itself.
"No es solo una tradición española, pero es una tradición muy española no concederle nada al adversario político."
This enduring dynamic shapes how history is remembered and how political legacies are constructed, revealing as much about contemporary sensitivities as it does about historical grievances.
The Battle of the Statues
The 19th century provided an early and vivid illustration of this political back-and-forth. In his book about Palma, author Valentí Puig documents how successive governments treated the city's iconic sphinx statues on the Paseo del Born.
Conservative administrations would cover the statues' chests, while progressive governments, upon returning to power, would immediately uncover them. This cycle repeated itself once after another, turning public art into a political pendulum.
The modern era has simply updated the medium. The conflict has moved from marble and cloth to the naming of infrastructure and public spaces.
Today, the Burgos AVE station is dedicated to the socialist figure Rosa Manzano. In contrast, the idea of dedicating a station to a popular conservative figure like Loyola de Palacio is considered politically unthinkable.
"Al enemigo, ni agua"
— Spanish Proverb
The Asymmetry of Recognition
The competition in political pettiness is fierce across the spectrum, yet the ideological tilt has been pronounced since Spain's democratic transition. The political sensibilities of the nation have leaned decisively to the left.
This shift explains a peculiar contemporary phenomenon: certain figures on the right now speak of former socialist Prime Minister Felipe González with a degree of nostalgia or simplicity. Meanwhile, any acknowledgment of right-wing leaders requires a deep archaeological dig into the archives.
Even among his own political family, recognition for a figure like José María Aznar is scarce. It requires what the source describes as espeleología en los archivos—speleology in the archives—to find any substantive acknowledgment from the left.
The assessment that does exist is telling. Socialist intellectual Ignacio Sotelo, described as a black sheep of the left, granted Aznar only a "leve reducción del paro" (slight reduction in unemployment) and a "Administración un poco más eficiente" (slightly more efficient administration).
A World in Transition
The source suggests that a sense of weariness with an old world has given way to a new one. Yet, the world in which the popular leader served as president still offered certain qualities that are now being revisited.
This reflection is not merely about nostalgia for a specific political era. It is about the enduring patterns of political memory and the difficulty of achieving a balanced historical narrative in a polarized environment.
The patterns of erasure and honor continue, shaping the public square and the collective memory of the nation. The battle over who gets remembered—and how—remains a central, ongoing feature of Spanish political life.
The Enduring Pattern
The tradition of denying water to the enemy remains a powerful force in Spanish politics. It manifests in the naming of train stations and the covering of statues, revealing a culture where political victory often includes the power to define historical legacy.
As the political pendulum swings, the question remains whether future generations will be able to see a more complete picture of their history, or if the patterns of the past will continue to dictate the memory of the present.
The key takeaway is that in Spain, the political landscape is not just about who holds power today, but about who gets to be remembered tomorrow.
"No es solo una tradición española, pero es una tradición muy española no concederle nada al adversario político."
— Source Text
"una leve reducción del paro y una Administración un poco más eficiente"
— Ignacio Sotelo on José María Aznar










