Medical teams rushed to Spain's Congress after a sharp, burning smell forced several offices to close. About a dozen people needed help. The source was a can of pepper spray that Ana Vázquez, a Partido Popular (PP) deputy, had displayed in the chamber. Her move turned a political point into a real emergency.
It began when Vázquez, who often targets the Interior Minister, pulled out the spray during a heated session. She called it the “basic school supply” now needed in Ceuta for self-defense against “assailants.” Chamber president Francina Armengol ordered Vázquez to leave and hand over the can, saying it was a weapon banned inside. PP deputies shouted and waved, urging Vázquez to resist. EFE and El Español reported that Armengol cited Article 101 of Congress rules and the arms registry, which classifies pepper spray as a weapon inside the building, even though it is legal to buy elsewhere.
Within half an hour, the fallout was clear. Police blocked off parts of the complex after a Mauritanian delegation reported a harsh smell in a bathroom in the Ampliación III area, near party offices. The odor reached Vox’s offices and the cafeteria. Official sources said a dozen staff suffered eye irritation or vomiting and needed medical care. At first, the PP denied any link. Two hours later, a party press adviser admitted he had released the spray at Vázquez’s request, saying she told him to “wash it.” Spanish media, including El Constitucional, reported that Congress’s concern was the spray’s status as a regulated weapon inside the building, regardless of its legal retail status.
The session, intended for routine government oversight, quickly spun out of control. The opposition was already on the attack before the spray appeared. Vox’s Pepa Millán accused Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez of running a “regime of terror” and plotting election fraud. PP’s Miguel Tellado called the Interior Minister a “hitman” and “a minister of Spain who hates Spain.” Vázquez accused the minister of “defending assailants” in Ceuta and “laughing at Spaniards.”
Armengol’s order to expel Vázquez only fueled the uproar. PP deputies stood and cheered, while a few remained seated, looking uneasy. Party leader Alberto Núñez Feijóo backed Vázquez in the corridors and blamed Armengol for making things worse. Another PP deputy, Jaime de Olano, called Armengol an “activist of sanchismo.” Armengol shot back, calling him a “coward” and noting that he had no right to reply. Several Spanish outlets emphasized that expulsion from the chamber is a disciplinary measure imposed by the president for the session and does not cost a deputy their mandate.
Vázquez spoke to the media, calling her expulsion another injustice. But the pepper spray incident overshadowed everything. The fumes forced closures and medical calls, turning a gesture into a real hazard. The PP’s changing account, first denying any link and later admitting what happened, made the scene look even more farcical. EFE and Democrata reported that Vázquez claimed the can was empty and said she would repeat the act “as many times as necessary.” The fight over security and rules is far from over.
The clashes continued. The opposition raised unrelated claims about a lawyer tied to the Socialists and alleged threats against a judge in Badajoz. De Olano called the government a “probably criminal gang.” Jaime de los Santos returned to the pepper spray, saying women in Ceuta now arm themselves because of a “government-enabled invasion.” He accused the government of turning Spain into a “paradise for human trafficking” and called ministers “criminals” who ignore borders and laws. De los Santos insisted his words came from fear, not hate.
After a day of insults and real danger, most Socialists had stepped back. The noise faded, but the message was clear: Spain’s parliament has become a stage for outrage and spectacle. The pepper spray disrupted the session and showed how far things have slid: stunts and provocation now spill into real life.
