In the office of a town hall in San Bartolomé de Tirajana, amid official seals and hallways carpeted with silence, a battle is being waged that goes far beyond municipal management. There are no barricades or sirens, but there is conspiracy, power, betrayal. What is happening in San Bartolomé de Tirajana is not a simple political disagreement: it is an exposed fracture of party democracy in the Canary Islands.
Samuel Henríquez, leader of the municipal opposition, has thrown down the gauntlet. A statement, laden with tension and warnings, directly accused Nueva Canarias heavyweights Carmelo Ramírez and Román Rodríguez of maneuvering behind the scenes to oust him from the political scene. A pact with Marco Aurelio Pérez, mayor of the People's Party (PP), would be the key element of this operation, which, according to Henríquez, has one objective: to silence the uncomfortable adversary.
The words are clear: "A pact of that old politics that citizens so detest." Old politics, old guard, old style. And yet, in 2025, that formula remains effective. If the request to declare the five municipal councilors unaffiliated is successful, they would lose their voice, resources, and visibility. They would be administrative dissidents, ghosts within the plenary session.
But the story doesn't end with the statement. According to sources within the council, the request didn't come from Ramírez, but from Román Rodríguez. A relevant detail. It also asserts that the decision doesn't depend on the mayor, but on the municipal secretary, a legal entity who, by law, acts as a neutral balance.
The deadline is ticking: ten days for objections. A short period for a long struggle.
From oversight to crossfire
In recent months, Henríquez has been a vocal opponent. He has criticized hiring, delays, and urban development plans. And he hasn't held back. The opposition in San Bartolomé de Tirajana is no stage set. His group, Municipalistas Primero Canarias, was a split from NC, and that split lies at the root of the conflict.
What's at stake now isn't just whether council members are elected or not. It's whether the government can punish dissent by the rules of the game itself. Whether those who leave the party lose their voice by decree. Whether internal party democracy, the kind that is so often talked about but so rarely enforced, can be replaced by bureaucratic purges.
Henríquez sees it this way: "They monopolize the acronyms as if they were their exclusive property." Harsh words that point to a leadership that hasn't let go of the helm. An aging structure that, according to the councilor, doesn't allow for renewal or criticism. A cold war in the corridors that is now becoming public.
The Canary Islands, a political laboratory in tension
San Bartolomé de Tirajana is one of the most important municipalities in the Canary Islands. Not only because of its size or budget, but because of what it represents: tourism, development, inequality, power. What happens in its town hall sets trends. And what's broken here can't be fixed with a headline.
Shadow pacts between parties, meetings without minutes, technical decisions disguised as political strategy... all of this has been part of the Canary Islands ecosystem for decades. But now, transparency turns it into a scandal.
And while it may seem like a minor dispute between southern council members, the truth is that this story raises a bigger question: can a party expel its critics without breaking the spirit of democratic representation? To what extent is it legitimate to use the rules as punishment?
The municipal clerk will have to decide. But the impeachment trial is already underway. And the verdict, perhaps, will be handed down by the voters in 2027. Or by the streets, much sooner.
