IN 2013 Alejandro García Padilla, the governor of Puerto Rico, did his best to tell the territory's jittery creditors what they wanted to hear. He called servicing the American-controlled Caribbean island’s $72 billion debt load a “moral obligation”. He reassured holders of its general-obligation (GO) bonds that the government could not default on them even if it wanted to, because the commonwealth’s constitution gave those securities priority over all other payments. He highlighted the swingeing package of tax increases, spending cuts and pension reform that he was implementing, and said that he would do whatever it took to honour the island's debts.

But after more than two years of stonewalling, Puerto Rico’s governor could keep up appearances no longer. “The public debt…is unpayable,” he admitted in an address on June 29th. He announced he would seek to restructure the territory’s liabilities. “It is time for lenders to join the table of sacrifices.”

Of course, in most of the world, Mr García Padilla’s solemn about-face did not make the day’s biggest debt-crisis headline. Greece, whose fiscal predicament is often cited as a cautionary tale for Puerto Rico, overshadowed it by shuttering its banks and stockmarket as its standoff with European lenders came to a head. But the spectre of a chaotic Greek exit from the euro—if voters reject their country's creditors' latest set of demands in a referendum due to be held on July 5th—gave credence to Mr García Padilla’s stern warning about what would happen if Puerto Rico’s bondholders refuse his demand for a multi-year moratorium on interest payments. “The alternative,” he said, “would be a unilateral and unplanned non-payment of obligations.”