THE PRESS AND ITS LEADERS
Perhaps there are few countries where the influence of the Press is
greater than in Spain, and this is largely due to the fact that while
the journals are read by everyone, for a great number of the people they
form the only literature. The free library is not yet universal in the
country, though, doubtless, in the near future it may become general. In
the meantime, every imaginable shade of political opinion has its organ;
even the Bull-Ring has at least two excellently illustrated newspapers:
and the extra sheets, printed hastily and sold immediately after the
_corrida_ has terminated, have an enormous sale. Deserving of mention is
the curious little paper known as the "Night-cap of Madrid," because it
is supposed to be impossible for anyone to go to rest until he has read
the late edition, which comes out not long before midnight. It is said
to have no politics, and only pretends to give all the news of the
world. There are many illustrated papers, both comic and serious. The
charmingly artistic little _Blanco y Negro_, beautifully gotten up, is
at the head of all the more dignified illustrated journals of the
country. There are no kiosks; the papers are sold by children or by old
women in the streets, and the Madrid night is rent by the appalling
cries of these itinerant vendors of literature. For the Spanish
newspaper is always literature, which is a good deal more than can be
said for some of the English halfpenny Press. Whatever may be the
politics of the particular journal, its _Castellano_ is perfect; perhaps
a little stilted or pompous, but always dignified and well-written.
The journalists of Madrid have a special facility for saying with an air
of extreme innocence what they, for various reasons, do not care to
express quite openly. Allegories, little romances, stories of fact full
of clever words of "double sense" make known to the initiated, or those
who know how to read between the lines, much that might otherwise awaken
the disagreeable notice of the censor, when there is one. There is an
air of good-natured raillery which takes off the edge of political
rancour, and keeps up the amenities and the dignity of the Spanish
Press. Only the other day one of the leading English journals pointed
out what a dignified part the Press of Madrid, of every shade of
politics, had played in the recent effort made by some foreign
newspapers--of a class which so far does not exist in Spain--to make
mischief and awaken national jealousy between England and Spain on the
subject of the works now being carried out by the English Government at
Gibraltar. The Spanish newspapers, of all shades of opinion, have made
it abundantly evident that their country entertains no unworthy
suspicion of England's good faith, and has not the smallest intention of
being led into strained or otherwise than perfectly friendly relations
with their old allies of the Peninsular War, to gratify the rabid enmity
of a section of a Press foreign to both countries. This is, perhaps, the
more remarkable because a certain amount of misunderstanding of England
exists among some elements of the Spanish Press.
The Liberal party in Spain is, in fact, the party of progress, and the
nation has at last awakened from its condition of slavery under unworthy
rulers, and is practically united in its determination to return to its
place among the nations of Europe.
There are many shades of Liberalism, and even Republicanism, but, as
will be seen in another place, the real welfare of the people, and not
the success of a mere political party, is the underlying motive of all,
however wild and unpractical may be some of the dreams for the carrying
out of these ideas of universal progress. It is impossible for a
Spaniard to conceive of maligning or belittling his own country for
merely party purposes; and, therefore, when he finds an English
newspaper calling itself "Liberal" he imagines the word to have the same
signification it has in his own country. So it has come to pass that
many of the worst misrepresentations--to use a very mild term--of a
portion of the English Press have been reproduced in Spanish newspapers,
and believed by their readers.
Among the principal newspapers, in a crowd of less important ones, _La
Época_, Conservative and dynastic ranks first; this is the journal of
the aristocrats, of the "upper ten thousand," or those who aspire to be
so, and it ranks as the _doyen_ of the whole Press. Its circulation is
not so large as that of some of the other papers, but its clientèle is
supposed to be of the best. _El Nacional_ is also Conservative, but
belonging to the party of Romero Robledo. What the exact politics of
that variation of Conservatism might be, it is difficult, I might almost
say impossible, for a stranger to say. If you were told nothing about
it, and took it up accidentally to read of current events, you would
certainly suppose it to be independent, with a decidedly Liberal
tendency. Still it calls itself Conservative.
_El Correo_ is Liberal, of the special type of Sagasta, the present
Prime Minister. _El Español_, which also gives one the impression of
independence, is Liberal after the manner of Gemaro. _El Heraldo_,
calling itself _Diario Independente_, is credited with being the Liberal
organ of Canalijas. _El Liberal_ and _El Pais_ are Republican, and _El
Correo Español_ is Carlist, or clerical. This paper appears to be looked
upon a good deal in the nature of a joke by its colleagues, and
quotations from it are always accompanied by notes of exclamation.
_La Correspondéncia de España_ is a paper all by itself, an invention of
Spanish journalism, and its unprecedented success is due to many of its
quite unique peculiarities. Its originator, now a millionaire, is proud
of relating that he arrived in Madrid with two dollars in his pocket. He
it was who conceived the brilliant idea of founding a journal which
should be the special organ of all. "_Diario politico independiente, y
de noticias: Eco imparcial de la opinion y de la prensa_," he calls it,
and the fourth page, devoted to advertisements, would make the fortune
of ten others. His boast was that it had no editor, paid no writers, and
employed no correspondents. It simply possessed a certain number of
"caterers" for news, who thrust themselves everywhere, picking up
morsels of news--good, bad, and indifferent, for the most part scribbled
in pencil and thrown into a receptacle from which they are drawn in any
order, or none, and handed to the printer as "copy"; coming out in
short, detached paragraphs of uneven length, ranging from three lines to
twenty. Extracts from foreign newspapers, official news, provincial
reports, money matters, religious announcements, accidents, everything
comes out pell-mell--absolutely all "the voices of the flying day," in
Madrid and everywhere else, in one jumble, without order or sequence,
one paragraph frequently being a direct contradiction to another in the
same sheet. There are three editions during the day, but the
"Night-cap," which sums up them all, appears about ten o'clock or later,
and it is scarcely an exaggeration to say that it is bought by almost
every householder in the city.
The nature of the _Correspondéncia_ has changed very little since its
earliest days. It is a little more dignified, condescends even to short
articles on current subjects of interest, but it is the same universal
provider of news and gossip as ever. It goes with the times; so far as
it has any leanings at all, it is with the Government of the hour; but
it is for the most part quite impersonal, and it makes itself agreeable
to all parties alike. Santa Ana, the clever initiator of this new and
highly successful adventure in journalism, has two other very prosperous
commercial enterprises in his hands--the manufacture of paper for
printing and the supply of natural flowers. He himself is an enormous
and indefatigable worker, personally looks after his various businesses,
especially the _Correspondéncia_, and, mindful of his own early
difficulties, he has created benefit societies for his workmen.
He who, being a foreigner, would attempt to understand Spanish politics,
deserves to be classed with the bravest leaders of forlorn hopes. In the
first place, it is doubtful whether Spaniards understand them
themselves, although they talk, for the most part, of nothing
else--except bulls. Whenever and wherever two or three men or boys are
gathered together, you may be quite certain as to the subject of their
conversation--that is, if they show signs of excitement and interest in
the matter under discussion. Each man you meet gives you the whole
matter in a nut-shell: he has studied politics ever since he was able to
talk; all the other innumerable parties besides his own are _nada_! he
can tell you exactly what is wrong with his country, and, what is more,
exactly how it may all be made right. The only thing which puzzles one
is that all the nut-shells are different, and, as there are an unlimited
number of them, all that one carefully learns to-day has to be as
carefully unlearned to-morrow, and a fresh adjustment made of one's
political spectacles. After all, however, this is very much what would
happen in any country if we were in turn to sit at the feet of
successive teachers, and try to bring their doctrines into any kind of
accord. The peculiarity in Spain lies rather in the multiplicity of
private political opinions and the energy with which they are expressed,
and in the fact that they are all honest.
Emerson has somewhere said that "inconsistency is the bugbear of little
minds." The Spanish politician has evidently not a little mind, for he
has no fear whatever of inconsistency, nor, in fact, of making a
_volte-face_ whenever he sees any reason for doing so. There are
Conservatives, Liberals, Republicans, Radicals, Socialists, as in other
countries, but there are, besides all these, an infinite number of
shades and tones of each political belief, each represented, as we have
seen, by a newspaper of its own, and, for the most part, bearing the
name of one man. It would seem, then, that you have only to make
yourself acquainted with the opinions, or rather with the political
acts, of that one man, and there you are! Vain and fond fancy! He has
been a rabid Republican, perhaps, or he has belonged, at least, to the
party which put up in Madrid in conspicuous letters, "The bastard race
of the Bourbons is for ever fallen. Fit punishment of their obstinacy!"
but you will find him to-day lending all the force of his paper to the
support of the Queen Regent, and at the same time allying himself with
the various classes of Republicans, even to the followers of Zorilla,
who have, at any rate till now, been consistent enemies and haters of
the Bourbon.
Señor Don Romero Robledo, one among the politicians of the day who
possess the gift of perfect oratory, so common among his countrymen, is
an example of this puzzling "open mind." He appeared first in the
character of revolutionist in 1868; then he became the Minister of the
Interior in Amadeo's short reign, held somewhat aloof from the wild
experiment in a republic of Castelar, joined the party of Don Alfonso on
the eve of its success, and supported Cánovas del Castillo in his
somewhat retrograde policy in the restoration of the very Bourbon whom
he had announced as "banished for ever," and, in fact, by his admirable
genius for organising his party, enabled the Government of Cánovas to
continue to exist. It is said of him that he "buys men as one would buy
sheep," and that he will serve any cause so long as he has the
management of it, or rather so long as he may pull the wires. Comte
Vasili says of him: "In politics, especially Conservative politics, men
like Romero Robledo are necessary, finding easily that 'the end
justifies the means,' energetic, ambitious, always in the breach
opposing their qualities to the invasions of the parties of extremes."
This was written of him some fifteen years ago by one eminently
qualified to judge. At the present moment we find Señor Romero Robledo
refusing office, but consulted by the Queen Regent in every difficulty.
In the late crisis, when the Conservative party under Silvela, called
into office for the sake of carrying the extremely unpopular marriage of
the Princess of Asturias with the Count of Caserta, had nearly managed
to wreck the monarchy, or, at any rate, the regency, and to bring the
always dangerous clerical question to an acute stage by suspending the
constitutional guarantees over the whole of Spain, it was Romero Robledo
who told the Queen quite plainly that before anything else could be done
the guarantees must be restored, that the liberties of the people could
not be interfered with, and that, in short, the Liberal party must be
called into office. Then we find him holding meetings in which
Conservatives, Republicans, even Zorillistas, all combined,
enthusiastically declaring that they are on the side of order and
progress, agreeing to hold up England, under her constitutional monarch,
as the most really democratic and free of all nations, since in no other
country, republican or otherwise, is the government, as a matter of
fact, so entirely in the hands of the people; swearing eternal enmity
against the interference of the clergy in government or in education,
but counselling "quiet determination without rancour or bigotry in
dealing with those of the clergy who openly, or through the
confessional, attempt to usurp authority which it is intended they shall
never again acquire in Spain." In fact, to read Señor Romero Robledo's
discourses on these occasions, and the excellent articles in the
newspaper which represents his views, _El Nacional_, one would imagine
the Golden Age to have dawned for Spain. Liberty, honour, real religion,
progress in science, art, manufactures, trade, the purification of
politics, the ideal of good government--these are only a few of the
things to which this amalgamation of parties is solemnly pledged.
One thing, at least, is promising among so much that might be put
down as "words, words": a general agreement as to the wisdom of making
the best of the present situation, opposing a firm resistance to any
attempt at a return to absolutism on the part of the monarchy, or
domination in temporal matters by the Church; but no change, no more
_pronunciamientos_, no more civil wars. Whenever the political parties
of a country merge their differences of opinion in one common cause, the
end may be foreseen. This was what happened in 1868; and if the party of
Romero Robledo is what it represents itself to be and holds together, we
may hope to see the reign of the young Alfonso XIII. open with good
auguries this year (1902), as it seems to be certain that he is to
attain his majority two years in advance of the usual time.
The life, political career, and retirement of Emilio Castelar is one of
the most pathetic pictures in history, and one altogether Spanish in
character. It was after Amadeo had thrown down his crown, exclaiming, "A
son of Savoy does not wear a crown on sufferance!" that the small party
of Republicans--which Prim had said did not exist, and which had in fact
only become a party at all during the disastrous period of uncertainty
between the expulsion of Isabel II. and the election of the Italian
prince--edged its way to the front, and Castelar became the head of
something much worse than a paper constitution--a republic of
visionaries. Don Quijote de la Mancha himself could scarcely have made a
more pure-intentioned yet more unpractical President. Castelar, with his
honest, unsophisticated opinions and theories, his unexampled oratory,
which is said to have carried away crowds of men who did not understand
or hear a word that he said, with the rhythm of his language, the simple
majesty and beauty of his delivery, launched the nation into a
government that might have been suited to the angels in heaven, or to
what the denizens of this earth may become in far distant æons of
evolution--a republic of dreams, headed by a dreamer. The awakening was
rude, but it was efficient. When Castelar found that in place of
establishing a millennium of peace and universal prosperity, he had let
loose over the land all the elements of disorder and of evil, he had the
greatness to acknowledge himself mistaken: his own reputation never
troubled him, and he admitted that the Cortes, from which he had hoped
so much, worked evil, not good. It is said that he himself called on
General Pavía, the Captain-General of Madrid, to clear them out. The
deputies--Castelar had withdrawn--sat firm: "Death rather than
surrender," they cried. Pavía, however, ordered his men to fire once
down the empty lobbies, and the hint was enough: the Cortes dispersed,
and Pavía, had he so minded it, might have been military dictator of
Spain. But he had no such ambition, though there were not wanting those
who ascribed it to him.
[Illustration: THE ESCURIAL]
As for Castelar, when angrily charged with inconsistency, he said:
"Charge me with inconsistency, if you please. I will not defend myself.
Have I the right to prefer my own reputation to the safety of my
country? Let my name perish, let posterity pronounce its anathema
against me, let my contemporaries send me into exile! Little care I! I
have lived long enough! But let not the Republic perish through my
weaknesses, and, above all, let no one say that Spain has perished in
our hands!" Castelar went back to his chair of philosophy, which he had
never resigned, poor as he left it, to the modest home and the devoted
sister whom he loved so well--and no one laughed! Is there really any
other country than Spain where such things can happen? His enthusiasm,
his high-mindedness, his failures, his brave acknowledgment that he had
failed, were accepted by the country in the exact spirit in which he had
offered himself to her service, and the memory of Castelar stands as
high to-day as ever it did in the respectful admiration of his
fellow-countrymen.