Alvise Pérez Cancels El País Interview Over Recording Rights

Alvise Pérez Cancels El País Interview Over Recording Rights

Analyst and elected official Alvise Pérez has cancelled an interview scheduled with El País for Thursday, June 13. According to Pérez, the PRISA-owned daily refused to grant him written permission to use unedited recording footage if he believed his answers had been manipulated. He claims this is not the first time such issues have arisen with the outlet, justifying his demand. "I will not attend Spanish media outlets that do not guarantee our ability to defend against immoral manipulations and distortions," he wrote. The newspaper's refusal leaves the politician, who secured over 800,000 votes, without any interviews five days after the elections—a situation his supporters describe as unprecedented in 45 years.

What Exactly Was Demanded and Why El País Said No

The condition on the table was specific: access to raw footage—unedited material—and a written right to use it if he felt his responses were altered. El País rejected this. In practice, the dispute centers on who controls the final version of an interview: the editing media outlet or the interviewee granting it. Some view the demand as a preventive pretext to impose their own narrative; others see the newspaper's refusal as proof that prior editing did not suit them.

This episode occurs within a broader context. The government's upcoming "democratic quality" package reportedly includes heavy fines for those labeled disinformers, bans on public contracts for companies or individuals funding such profiles or media, and an expert committee chosen by the executive to close social networks and media outlets without judicial order. Against this backdrop, the refusal to record the interview shifts from a scheduling anecdote to a symptom of deeper tensions.

Alvise's Response: Lawsuits and an Information Freedom Law

Pérez has announced defamation and slander lawsuits against several journalists. One cited case involves Javier Ruiz, who stated during prime-time TVE coverage that Pérez had requested the rape of Pedro Sánchez's daughter while the national anthem played. Pérez demands €20,000, which he will donate to the Association of Orphans of the Civil Guard. He also targets Nacho Abad's program on Cuatro for claiming he lost a trial that, according to Pérez, he won definitively at the Supreme Court.

He adds a legislative promise: an Information Freedom Law that would penalize with imprisonment politicians who pressure or obstruct the publication of information in media. As proposed, this clashes with the current constitutional framework but serves to mark territory—the same ground the government aims to occupy with its expert committee.

The Battle Over Fake News and Control of the Final Version

The paradox highlighted by his defenders is simple: the outlet accusing Pérez of spreading fake news refuses to allow the interview to be fully verified. If the issue is manipulation, why not leave the raw footage on the table? The standard response is that editing rights belong to the media, and ceding them sets an uncomfortable precedent for future interviews.

There is a notable precedent. Milan Kundera stopped giving interviews because, he said, his words were always twisted. The difference is that Kundera renounced the media; Pérez uses them as a battlefield. Here lies the crux: transparency demanded of the interviewee is not always applied to the interviewer.

The CGPJ, Navarre, and Background Noise

While the standoff with El País continues, other fronts remain open. Spain's largest judges' association has described Sánchez's assault on the CGPJ (General Council of the Judiciary) as "unacceptable and a genuine constitutional abusa." Navarre's socialist president, Chivite, allegedly demanded media conceal attacks by North Africans on gais, according to circulating accounts. Meanwhile, internal criticism grows within Vox for merely creating a coordination desk in Barcelona for unconstitutionality appeals, with officials urging Abascal for greater firmness.

The result is an ecosystem where the interview format is no longer neutral. Each refusal, each demand, and each unrecorded raw clip is read as a war position. The unanswered question remains whether the interviewee demanding recording does so to protect himself or to control the narrative—and whether the media refusing does so based on editorial criteria or something less confessable.