Tun Tun Quien Es Marlaska is a popular Spanish meme and social media phenomenon that playfully questions the identity of Fernando Grande-Marlaska, a well-known Spanish politician and current Minister of the Interior. The phrase “¿Quién es Marlaska?” (Who is Marlaska?) is often used humorously to highlight the public’s curiosity and bewilderment about Marlaska’s actions or decisions. This meme has gained traction on various platforms, where users creatively express their opinions and poke fun at the Minister’s public persona. The meme reflects the dynamic interaction between political figures and the online community in Spain, showcasing the power of humor in contemporary political discourse.
In 1975, Ana Belén sang “Knock, knock, who is it?” to lyrics by Cuban poet Nicolás Guillén, echoing the sentiment of opening up the walls in a world under oppressive regimes. However, half a century later, the walls in Cuba remain firmly shut, with little concern from Ana Belén. Meanwhile, the chant of “knock, knock” has resonated across the Caribbean, finding new life in Chavista Venezuela, the adopted daughter of Fidel Castro, who evaded execution and died in his bed.
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In present-day Venezuela, Diosdado Cabello, the notorious enforcer of Nicolás Maduro, has initiated “Operation tun, tun.” This operation involves hunting down, door-to-door, the young people who gathered at voting centers during the July 28th elections, inspired by María Corina Machado, a heroic figure in this struggle. Nearly one hundred thousand young volunteers certified the overwhelming seventy-to-thirty victory of democracy’s candidate, Edmundo González. These volunteers acted as an impromptu army of scribes, documenting the monster’s defeat.
Pedro Sánchez appears mainly indifferent to the atrocities committed by Nicolás Maduro. Despite the ongoing violence and human rights abuses, Sánchez seems more troubled by Israel’s defense against Iranian-backed terrorists than by the actions of the Venezuelan regime. His foreign minister, the ever-diplomatic Albares, hesitates to condemn the electoral fraud orchestrated by Chávez, demand the release of political prisoners (including a Spanish aid worker), or acknowledge Edmundo González’s legitimate victory—actions already taken by the United States and several other governments in the region.
Over the past fifteen days, “Operation tun, tun” has led to more than three thousand arrests, with countless more expected, as warned by a ruthless Maduro loyalist. Over a hundred confirmed murders and countless missing young people add to the growing list of victims under the Bolivarian regime. This brutal crackdown is happening as the PSOE, which has long had business ties in the region, nervously watches the potential collapse of the Orinoco dictatorship. The fall of Chavismo could expose a myriad of dubious deals, criminal activities, and scandalous arrangements involving critical figures in Spanish socialism—from Bono to Zapatero. Meanwhile, the Podemos leaders who once idolized Chávez, like Monedero, Iglesias, and Bescansa, were minor players compared to the PSOE’s deep-seated interests in this narco-state.
This explains the complicit silence from Moncloa, the government’s general muteness, the sudden disappearance of Zapatero from the public eye, and Sánchez’s deliberate indifference to a crisis beyond his control—one he hopes will resolve without significant disruption. Europe is transitioning between two administrations, neither of which has ever had much influence in the Americas. In Washington, they await the presidential handover between the somnolent Biden and his successor. Meanwhile, Brazil and Colombia toy with danger. At the same time, democracies in the region, like Argentina, Uruguay, and Peru, find themselves powerless against the ironclad support of the atrocious dictatorship by China, Russia, and Iran.
In an attempt to cloak his “Operation tun, tun” with a veneer of legality, the ruthless bus driver-turned-dictator has announced a law against fascism. Under this law, all dissent will be deemed unconstitutional, all criticism will be punished, and dissidents will be exiled to another neighborhood—a grim “knock, knock” to the grave.
On a slightly less extreme level, Sánchez is also finalizing his law against slander, which will be presented in Congress after the summer. This legislation may well include elements reminiscent of Caracas’s “knock, knock,” something the Interior Ministry has already mastered under Marlaska’s leadership. Recall the unconstitutional “state of alarm” and the door-kicking (with a battering ram) during the pandemic to break up a university party. This was merely a rehearsal for the totalitarian measures of Sánchez’s regime, which we are already experiencing. “Knock, knock,” here come Marlaska’s troops—disband. The TSJ of Madrid ruled against them, but that hasn’t stopped the rounding up of older people and adolescents, sometimes even with arrests, during the peaceful evening protests in Ferraz against the amnesty.
The ‘Operation Lucero’ of late Francoism
The recent arrest of Nacho Cano’s interns—young Mexicans held by police for over twelve hours—was far more sophisticated. During their detention, they were threatened with deportation and other penalties if they refused to provide statements coerced by authorities. Allegations of sexual abuse, workplace harassment, and personal blackmail were leveraged against them. These interns were treated like criminals, followed relentlessly, whether heading to the pool for training, riding the bus to the theater, or going for a night run. All this with Ayuso as the real target. It seems unthinkable, but it has happened, and it has happened now.
This scenario is reminiscent of “Operation Lucero,” a plan devised during the final days of Franco’s regime. As the health of His Excellency rapidly declined, a strategy was formulated to seize control of institutions and the media and to carry out mass arrests of prominent democratic opposition leaders, including members of political parties, unions, and student associations. Some of this dirty work was to be executed by commandos from FALANGE, Fuerza Nueva, and Cristo Rey. Even within the dying regime, the plan was ultimately abandoned by those who recognized the inappropriateness of resorting to such draconian measures. Now, however, Sanchismo not only promotes but actively pursues the persecution of judges, the assault on institutions like the Constitutional Court, RTVE, the Public Prosecutor’s Office, the legal profession, the Court of Auditors, CIS, the media aligned with the Ibex, and other bodies that should remain independent in a democracy.
“Knock, knock”—be cautious the next time someone knocks on your door unexpectedly. Before opening, ask, “Who is it?” or have your lawyer’s number ready. It might not be Ana Belén at your door but Marlaska’s forces. Only those who have lived as fugitives in Waterloo might feel truly safe.
Frequently Asked Questions
What is “Tun Tun Quien Es Marlaska”?
“Tun Tun Quien Es Marlaska” is a popular Spanish meme and social media phenomenon that humorously questions the identity and actions of Fernando Grande-Marlaska, Spain’s Minister of the Interior. The phrase “¿Quién es Marlaska?” (Who is Marlaska?) is often used in a playful or sarcastic tone to highlight public curiosity or skepticism towards Marlaska’s decisions or political actions.
Where did the phrase originate?
The phrase draws from the colloquial Spanish expression “tun tun,” often associated with a knock on the door, symbolizing someone seeking entry or an inquiry about someone’s identity. Given his controversial role in Spanish politics, the meme plays on this idea, metaphorically “knocking” to ask who Marlaska is.
Why has “Tun Tun Quien Es Marlaska” become popular?
The meme has gained traction due to Marlaska’s involvement in contentious issues, including law enforcement practices and government policies. Social media users have embraced the meme to express their opinions or frustrations or to engage in light-hearted banter about Marlaska’s public persona.
Is “Tun Tun Quien Es Marlaska” used in a severe or humorous context?
The phrase is primarily used in a funny or satirical context. It allows people to critique or question Marlaska’s actions without confrontation, using humor as a vehicle for social commentary.
How is the meme typically used online?
The meme is often shared through text posts, images, or videos on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook platforms. Users may pair the phrase with news articles, political commentary, or everyday situations where they feel a comparison to Marlaska’s actions is apt.
Has Marlaska responded to this meme?
Fernando Grande-Marlaska has not officially responded to the “Tun Tun Quien Es Marlaska” meme. Politicians typically refrain from engaging with internet memes, although they may be aware of their existence.
Does the meme carry any political significance?
While the meme is often used humorously, it can also have political undertones, reflecting public sentiment about Marlaska’s role in government. It serves as digital resistance or critique, particularly in civil liberties, law enforcement, and government transparency discussions.
Conclusion
Tun Tun Quien Es Marlaska is more than just a playful meme—it reflects the public’s curiosity, skepticism, and sometimes frustration with Fernando Grande-Marlaska’s role as Spain’s Minister of the Interior. This meme, rooted in humor and satire, serves as a creative outlet for citizens to question and critique political actions and decisions in a light-hearted yet impactful way. While it originated as a simple online joke, it has grown into a significant part of digital political discourse in Spain, highlighting the power of social media to shape public opinion and influence political narratives. Through this meme, Marlaska has become a symbol of the broader political landscape, where public figures are continuously scrutinized and held accountable by an increasingly engaged and vocal citizenry.
