THE celebration of the half-century of the newspaper El País has revealed the deep wound among some of the founders, who felt underestimated for not having been invited to the official commemorative event. No need to worry: they made up for it with a dinner washed down with wine and resentment, and have written about it. Juan Luis Cebrián, founding director and former CEO of Prisa, signs the most interesting piece, spitting at his successor at the company, Joseph Oughourlian, whom he called a vulture financier of null intellectual stature, and recalling "cancelled" journalists such as Fernando Savater, Félix de Azúa, Francesc de Carreras or Antonio Caño. Apart from himself, of course: modesty was never the main cebrianesque virtue.
The distinguished journalist, now a manager, can make great pronouncements pointing out Zapatero's influence, while omitting to mention in his written missile to The Objective a certain Felipe González, about whom legends say he had some influence in the newspaper. He can also narrate an imaginary Xanadu of freedom that respected pluralism of thought. But perhaps alongside his list of the repressed, he could have included, for example, the name of John Carlin, who was dismissed when he presided over the newspaper for daring to write a column that deviated from the rigid editorial line imposed by El País during the time of the Procés. They fired him, even though he wasn't even an independentist. Or when, in 2009, Enric González wrote someone felt offended. The old guard is right that the history of El País cannot ignore figures that are uncomfortable for it today, such as Fernando Savater, Arcadi Espada, or Hermann Tertsch. But the nostalgia they profess has very selectively clouded their memories.
