The Pain in Spain: A Banking Scandal Makes the Crisis No Joke At a convenience store just off of Madrid's Plaza Mayor this past weekend, a customer paid for a sixpack with his debit card. Noting the name of the bank on the card, cashier Juanjo Martínez couldn't resist a joke. "Sure you don't want to buy anything else?" he asked. Might as well use it while you still can. The humor in Spain has been dark ever since the crisis began four years ago. But in recent weeks, and especially in the past few days, the mood has turned decidedly blacker. On May 25, Bankia, the country's fourth largest bank, admitted that it needed a total infusion of 23 billion euros in public funds to avoid bankruptcy. That same day, and every weekday since, the spread between Spain's 10-year government bonds and their German counterparts has remained above the critical red line of 500, beyond which it becomes nearly impossible for a country to finance its debt. Gradually, the gallows humor is giving way to outrage. It's hard to say who is the bigger target of it: Spain's government or its banks. They are, in any case, inextricably linked. It was the government, after all - then led by the Socialist party - that created Bankia in December 2010 by merging seven savings banks on the verge of default in the hopes that a larger entity would be better able to withstand the toxic assets plaguing Spain's lenders. At its head was Rodrigo Rato, former IMF chief, and a high-ranking member of the center-right Popular Party, which won Spain's national elections elections the following year. On May 7, Rato abruptly resigned that position and his replacement requested that the government partially nationalize the bank. Two weeks later, Bankia admitted that, contrary to a February report that recorded 305 million in profits, it had in fact lost nearly 3 billion euros in 2011. On May 25, the bank's advisory board resigned en masse, though not before requesting an additional 19 million euros from the government - an amount which the government, despite promises not to spend public money bailing out banks, agreed to supply. Three days later, Bankia's parent company, BFA, announced that it too was 3.3 billion in the hole - the largest loss in Spain's history. The ridiculousness of the situation - it's hard to say whether its worse to believe that a bank led by the former head of the IMF deliberately lied to its shareholders or that it simply couldn't keep its profits and losses straight - has provided plenty of comedic fodder. "Government To Hand Over 700 Virgins to Bankia" ran the headline of a story in the satiric newspaper Rokambol, in reference to to prime minister Mariano Rajoy's willingness to meet the astonishing demands of the bank. One blog recently began offering a special edition Playmobil Bankia toy, with the promise that it would give kids the chance to "discover the only bank in the world where the robber sits behind the counter!" Price tag? 20 billion euros, of course. Beneath the humor lies no small amount of anxiety. Ten million Spaniards have accounts with Bankia, and another 400,000 have invested in its stocks. Mari Montoyo is one of the former, and she admits that she worries constantly about her funds. "I wake up every morning and wonder if I should empty out my account," the 47-year-old housewife says. Maybe it would be safer hidden in a drawer at home. Medium Miguel Morales, who has been telling fortunes for over 30 years, says he is seeing a lot of that kind of doubt. "I used to get very few people seeking financial advice," he says. But right now I'd say about half my clients ask if they should keep their money in one bank, or invest in another. Until now, even as the unemployment rate has passed 23% and austerity measures have reduced pensions, made it easier to fire employees, and cut social welfare benefits, Spain has largely avoided the kind of rage that has exploded on the streets of Greece. But there are signs that that may be changing. "I think this is the straw that breaks the camel's back," says Ignacio Escolar, former editor of Politico newspaper and creator of one of Spain's most popular political blogs, Escolar.net. The government is going to inject more than twice the amount of public money it has cut from education and healthcare into a bank. We have no money to pay teachers, but we have money to pay Bankia. If you look on social media, it's sparking a lot of anger. MORE: The Vanguard of Disaster There was perhaps no more potent sign of that anger than Karlos Anguiñano's outburst on television last week. As the normally jovial chef on Spain's most popular cooking show chopped vegetables for a sofrito last week, he began to describe his distress at recent cuts to education. From there, it was a short leap to the bankers. "We've all been affected by this crisis," Arguiñano said. But we're feeling it not because of teachers or students. We're feeling it because of those gangsters - those bankers who are running the crisis. Spurring the growing rage is the sense that the government is making it up as it goes along. Certain promises - like it would not raise the Value Added Tax, or create a "bad bank" into which others could offload their toxic assets - have been discarded in the face of necessity. "What the prime minister says today, he may well discard tomorrow," said Iñaki Gabilondo, Spain's most prominent television journalist in a broadcase on May 29th. Not just because he keeps contradicting himself. But because you can see that he is completely overwhelmed by what is happening. MORE: Obama's European Stimulus Challenge The day before, Rajoy had tried to be firm. Holding his first press conference since his inauguration in January, the prime minister answered a journalist's question about a possible rescue from Europe with what may well turn out to be his "Read my lips" moment: "There will be no bailout. Next question? But he also refused to hold a public investigation into what and who is responsible for Bankia's default, and in the process, only spurred more resentment. As a journalist, I know that there's not much alternative to saving Bankia with public money, says Escolar. But for them to do it without any transparency or explanation is deeply troubling. They're treating it as if it were a hurricane - a natural disaster that no one could control and for which no one is responsible. On May 29th, as the spread remained above 500 points and BFA confessed that it held 40 billion in toxic assets, Twitter lit up with the news that one of Bankia's directors had received a 14 million euro severance payment. "They're all a bunch of shameless thieves," said Monica Besado, 21, as she stopped by her neighborhood branch of Caja Madrid, one of savings banks that makes up Bankia. I would take all my money out, but I don't think anyone else is any better. Unless you want to leave Spain, there's no place else to go. MORE: Spanish Banking Troubles Keep Markets on Edge