Press/Journalism (Spain)

Introduction

The declaration of neutrality announced by Eduardo Dato’s (1856-1921) government on 30 July 1914 did not prevent the impact of the war from being felt deeply in Spain. From the outset of hostilities, the main newspapers increased their circulation to keep their readers informed about the development of the fronts, while at the same time beginning to publish reflections on the position that the country should adopt in the face of the war. One of the most notable texts was the article “Neutralidades que matan [Neutralities that kill],” which appeared in El Diario Universal, advocating greater proximity to the Allied powers and warning of the negative consequences of a policy of equidistance. Although published without a signature, the text was attributed to the Count of Romanones (1863-1950), leader of the Liberal Party and owner of the newspaper. This early episode of dissent from the government stance was an initial sign of the profound divisions that ran through Spanish public opinion during the war. The intensity of these controversies was such that historians have defined the period as a veritable “war of words,” in which the press became the main battlefield.

In recent years, growing interest in Spanish intellectuals’ reflections on the war has prompted the study of the press as the main platform through which they disseminated their ideas.¹ At the same time, historiography focused on the analysis of international propaganda networks has highlighted the interference of the belligerent powers in Spanish newspapers, especially through subsidies and financial support.² As a result, there is now a solid understanding of the main publications of the period; however, there is still a need for an overview that addresses the Spanish press as a whole and integrates other related areas, such as the graphic design that accompanied it.

Pro-Allies and Germanophilia

The First World War acted as an accelerator for the modernization of the Spanish press that had already been underway since the beginning of the 20th century. One of the most significant changes was the diversification of international news sources. Until 1914, much of the press depended on the French agency Havas, which operated in Spain through its subsidiary Fabra. During the war, this hegemony was challenged by the growing presence of the British agency Reuters and the German agency Wolff, which broadened the range of information available. At the same time, international coverage intensified with the deployment of reporters and special correspondents to the front lines, including Agustí Calvet (1887-1964)(Gaziel) for La Vanguardia and Ramón Pérez de Ayala (1880-1962) for El Imparcial. Alongside them, some female journalists played an important role: Carmen de Burgos (1867-1932) (Colombine) wrote for El Heraldo de Madrid and Sofía Casanova (1861-1958) for ABC.³

Despite official neutrality, many newspapers’ sympathies for one side or the other became apparent during the early months of the war. This division accurately reflected the tensions within Spanish society, which was quickly split between those who favored the Entente, or pro-Allies, and those who preferred Germany or neutrality. The boundary among these last two positions was often blurred, as many Germanophiles resorted to neutralist rhetoric as a strategy, given the practical impossibility of directly supporting the Central Powers.

Within the pro-German press, media outlets such as El Correo Español, La Correspondencia Militar, La Tribuna, and España Nueva played a prominent role, generally linked to conservative political sectors. ABC, one of the newspapers with the largest circulation, was instrumental in promoting the creation of a neutralist bloc that brought together numerous newspapers, led by its editor Luca de Tena (1861-1929) in June 1915. Although it was frequently accused of Germanophilia, the newspaper continued to publish pro-Allied contributions, such as those by the writer Azorín (1873-1967), reflecting the complexity of its editorial line. In this context, the military chronicles of Francisco Martín Llorente (1869-1937), signed under the pseudonym “Armando Guerra,” initially published in ABC and from 1916 onwards in El Debate, acquired special relevance. These chronicles introduced formal innovations such as the systematic use of maps, a direct result of his military training.⁴

For its part, the pro-Allied press included major newspapers such as La Correspondencia de España, El Liberal, El Heraldo de Madrid, El País, and El Socialista. Except for the first, which was a generalist newspaper with a conservative slant, the rest of these outlets held progressive positions or were openly linked to left-wing political projects, ranging from non-partisan republicanism to socialism. A particularly significant case was that of the weekly magazine España, founded in 1915 by the philosopher and writer José Ortega y Gasset (1883-1955). From its inception, it maintained a favorable stance towards the Allies, which became even more explicit after the appointment of Luis Araquistáin (1886-1959) as director in 1916. Influential intellectuals contributed to its pages, turning the magazine into a central forum for reflection on the war and the political and cultural future of Spain.

As it became clear that the war would be long and that the international propaganda apparatus was consolidating, the polarization of the Spanish journalistic landscape intensified. New magazines created specifically for propaganda purposes emerged, broadening the spectrum of debate. Among the pro-German publications, Germania, La Protesta, and Don Quijote en Guerra stood out, while in the pro-Allied camp, magazines such as Los Aliados, Iberia, and Los Bárbaros appeared.

Illustrated Press

The role of the illustrated press was crucial in Spain, which suffered from high illiteracy rates at the outbreak of the conflict. For a large portion of the population, visual information was the main method for understanding a complex conflict taking place far away. Among the publications that included graphic sections, two types stood out: graphic current affairs magazines and the satirical press, the latter boasting a long-standing tradition.

As for graphic magazines, social interest in learning about events on the front was combined with technical innovations in photographic reproduction. Publications such as Mundo Gráfico and La Esfera devoted ample space to photo-essays that brought the reality of the front lines closer to Spanish readers.⁵ A milestone in this coverage was the September 1914 launch of the magazine La Guerra Ilustrada: Crónica de la Guerra Europea, edited by Augusto Riera (-1935). This publication stood out for its full color covers featuring the main leaders of the conflict and its interior pages, which combined an analysis of the causes of the war with updates from the front lines. Photography not only informed but also served as a testimony to a “new industrial war” characterized by unprecedented weapons and levels of destruction, which was difficult for the Spanish public to imagine through written word alone.

On the other hand, Spain had a strong tradition of satire, with dedicated publications or cartoons featured in widely circulated newspapers. With its emphasis on visual storytelling, the cartoon format allowed complex political ideas to be conveyed quickly and to a wide audience. Catalonia was a particularly active center for this type of production. Noteworthy examples include the publications La Campana de Gràcia and L’Esquella de la Torratxa, edited by the Francophile Marius Aguilar (1882-1952) from 1915 onwards and written in Catalan. Their pages were filled with constant criticism of the weakness inherent in official neutrality and open support for France and England (Russia, despite being part of the Entente, was not mentioned as often). In this context, the cartoonist Josep Costa Ferrer (1876-1971)(Picarol) published in La Campana de Gràcia the series Antología bàrbara dels temps moderns between January and May 1915.⁶ Its nearly three hundred cartoons were primarily aimed at denouncing the atrocities of the German Army in Belgium, contributing to the construction of the narrative of Teutonic “barbarism.” Another prominent figure among the pro-Allied ranks was the cartoonist Luis Bagaría (1882-1940). Although at the beginning of the war he also worked with pro-German publications, as social polarization increased, he solidified his collaboration with pro-Allied media, especially the magazine España.⁷ From this weekly publication, he constructed the graphic characterization of the internal enemy, the pro-German, by adapting the negative image of the German Army. In contrast, the pro-German media, although they had fewer visual resources of this type at their disposal, articulated an aggressive response through satirical publications such as Don Quijote en Guerra, the Carlist newspaper El Fusil, and the Maurist El Mentidero. The latter, edited by Manuel Delgado Barreto (1879-1936), featured cartoonists such as Joaquín Olaguibel Urbina (Crayón) and Gerardo Fernández de la Reguera y Aguilera (1881-1937) (Areuger), who focused their attacks on discrediting the Allies, particularly criticizing the use of colonial armies as an example of the Entente’s “false civilization.”

These visual representations were by no means isolated occurrences, but rather they formed part of an international iconographic and propaganda network. A prime example was the impact of the work of Dutch artist Louis Raemaekers (1869-1956), whose anti-German caricatures were widely distributed in Spanish, Catalan, and Basque. An exhibition of his work was even organized in Madrid in 1916, which faced serious difficulties due to diplomatic pressure from the German embassy and local pro-German sectors, demonstrating that visual satire was perceived as a weapon of war as real as those on the front line.

Propaganda and Belligerent Powers

With the common need to win over Spanish public opinion, the belligerent countries deployed their propaganda networks with varying degrees of success. Historically, Spain was under French influence, which meant that France enjoyed greater cultural and political ascendancy. However, Germany had been trying to counteract this situation since the beginning of the 20th century. This intense advance planning allowed the German Empire to have a propaganda system in place as early as August 1914, managed directly by its embassy, with a large capacity to issue materials and closely monitor the press. The oversight of the media fell to Alexander Bruns, who had excellent contacts in the sector and was supported by local offices linked to the consulates, such as the one in Barcelona, under the command of Vice-Consul Alfred von Carlowitz-Hartizsch.⁸

In contrast, the Allied systems were slower to get off the ground, much to the exasperation of pro-Allied intellectuals and journalists who watched as Germanophilia spread unchecked. The French propaganda service was not established until 1916 under the direction of Albert Mousset (1883-1975) and Louis de Vienne, with Léon Rollin responsible for the press. Rollin played a key role in liaising with the British propaganda service and its head in the neutral nation, John Walter.⁹ The Italian service lagged even further behind, with attempts at organization not coming to fruition until 1917 after the Count of Ponzone was sent to Madrid.¹⁰ All these services enjoyed the active collaboration of immigrant communities, whose work was particularly intense in Barcelona. In the Catalan capital, the French colony founded the weekly newspaper Los Aliados in November 1914. German residents created the Deutsche Zeitung für Spanien, renamed Revista Alemana de España in 1916 when it began to include content in Spanish, and the publication Die Deutsche Warte/La Atalaya Alemana (also bilingual from 1917 onwards).¹¹

Germany employed various strategies to influence the Spanish press, from creating its own newspapers such as Germania (pro-German) to hiring renowned journalists and cartoonists. However, the main approach was to grant subsidies to existing publications, a tactic that proved particularly effective due to the paper crisis.¹² From the outset of the conflict, the price of paper pulp and other essential raw materials, such as ink, skyrocketed, forcing newspapers to face prohibitive costs. Newspapers were left with no choice but to reduce their page count, eliminate color or raise their cover price, measures that caused discontent among readers who were already suffering from inflation in all areas of their daily lives.

This situation worsened in 1916, prompting attempts at joint action through the Central Committee of the Spanish Daily Press, although unity proved impossible due to ideological disputes between pro-Allied and pro-German factions. Faced with the inability of newspapers to negotiate with paper manufacturers, the government of the Count of Romanones intervened with the “Anticipo Reintegrable,” a public loan to enable newspapers to obtain paper, which would be gradually repaid through taxes. The measure was extended until 1921, but the state barely recovered its investment. In practice, it functioned as a non-refundable bailout. However, the initiative was harshly criticized because it was seen as an intervention that undermined press freedom and because it was insufficient, as it did not cover weekly or monthly publications.¹³

This stifling economic climate multiplied the impact of the financial support offered by the belligerents, which even forced changes in the editorial orientation of long-standing media outlets. Newspapers such as El Imparcial, El Mundo, and El Parlamentario were accused of selling out to the highest bidder after shifting towards pro-Allied positions following the receipt of French and British funding. The financial assistance naturally fostered a connection with the stances defended by these newspapers. For this reason, the Allies sought a balance by backing both Republican newspapers, including El País, and media outlets linked to the Restoration system. In this category, subsidies were granted to La Época (linked to the conservative Eduardo Dato) and El Diario Universal (the mouthpiece of the Count of Romanones). The same concern led the British government to withdraw their subsidies to the magazine España after a rally considered openly critical of King Alfonso XIII (1886-1941).

For their part, German networks, in addition to maintaining regular subsidies in aligned media outlets, including La Tribuna and ABC, covered the debt of España Nueva and sponsored launches such as El Día and La Nación. It is significant that Germany also bankrolled pacifist publications such as La Vérité and anarchist journals such as Solidaridad Obrera, the organ of the CNT (Confederación Nacional del Trabajo), to defend Spanish neutrality and garner the support of the working class against intervention in the war.¹⁴ In summary, this was a propaganda campaign of unprecedented proportions that raised the tension and polarization of the media in Spain to a new level.

Censorship

Faced with this complex scenario, the Spanish government resorted to censorship as a means of protecting official neutrality. From the outset of the conflict, the authorities persecuted articles and cartoons that could be considered offensive to the belligerent countries, a circumstance that the German embassy skillfully exploited as part of its propaganda strategy. The German ambassador Prince Ratibor (1847-1923) maintained constant communication with the government and with King Alfonso XIII himself to denounce what he deemed to be insults against Kaiser Wilhelm II (1859-1941) in pro-Allied publications. These protests were also directed against specific figures such as Miguel de Unamuno (1864-1936), whose status as a university professor placed him under the direct jurisdiction of the government. For their part, the Allied countries did not initially display the same vehemence in their complaints, which led to an uneven application of censorship that was only levelled out when, after observing the effectiveness of German pressure, they began to exercise greater control.

The worsening of the internal situation in Spain led to moments of heightened tension that prompted the government to tighten its control over the press. The strike of 1916 and, especially, the general strikes of 1917, when the political system of the Restoration entered a deep crisis, marked the return of prior restraint. Newspapers tried to make this state intervention visible to their readers, either through informative notes or by leaving blank columns where the deleted paragraphs should have been. With this practice, editors highlighted the repression that the government sought to keep hidden. However, when the authorities realized that these voids were in themselves a form of protest, they banned their use.¹⁵ During the most critical moments of the August 1917 strike, some newspapers were temporarily suspended, causing significant instability in the sector and encouraging self-censorship among journalists who depended on the publication of their articles for their livelihood.

In the final year of the conflict, prior restraint was imposed on an ad hoc basis and often on a small geographical scale to contain local conflicts. Nevertheless, the persistent journalistic war, coupled with the uncovering of several cases of espionage, led the government to enact the Espionage and Neutrality Defense Act on 8 July 1918. This legislation not only prosecuted the activities of the secret services on Spanish soil, but also considerably expanded the powers of censorship and the penalties for violations. The measure generated unanimous protests in the press and its enforcement led to legal proceedings against media outlets, editors, and cartoonists for non-compliance with the law.¹⁶ After the end of the war, the rules regarding war-related offences were relaxed; however, general censorship remained in place due to an internal crisis which, accelerated by the impact of the conflict, plunged the country into a process of political decay in the aftermath of the armistice.

Conclusion

During the First World War, the Spanish press did not merely inform the citizens of an officially neutral country. It also served as a fundamental vehicle for constructing discourses on the war, neutrality, and Spain’s position relative to the great European powers. In the years marked by the progressive collapse of the Restoration regime and the ensuing political, social, and economic crisis, reflecting on the conflict ultimately meant considering what future was desired for the country. The press thus became a privileged forum for these reflections, in which the fates of Europe and Spain appeared intrinsically linked.

By reproducing the social division between pro-Allied and pro-German factions, newspapers actively participated in a struggle to win over public opinion. The concept of a “civil war of words” accurately reflects the deep polarization experienced by Spanish society, which became increasingly acute throughout the conflict. However, the position taken by newspapers was neither simple nor uniform. Some newspapers changed their alignment over the course of the war, while others resorted to neutrality as a rhetorical strategy designed to conceal clear sympathies towards one of the belligerents. These dynamics were also conditioned by the direct interference of the warring powers, which deployed extensive propaganda networks in the neutral nation. Through financial subsidies to publications and intellectuals, which proved decisive in a context of rising paper prices, the warring powers sought to strengthen their support among the Spanish public. Faced with this interference, the successive governments tried to maintain a policy of equidistance and preserve public order using censorship, which was progressively intensified, especially after 1917 with the reintroduction of prior restraint and in 1918 with the enactment of the Law against Espionage and in Defense of Neutrality.

The Great War also acted as a catalyst for historical processes in Spain, including a profound renewal of the journalistic system. The war accelerated the modernization of the press, facilitating the transition to a more commercial model that was less dependent on political parties. Among the most significant changes were the deployment of correspondents abroad, the improvement of war reporting, and the incorporation of new graphic elements. The visual aspect, often relegated in a historiographical debate focused on the “war of words,” actually played a fundamental role. Through pioneering photo reports and cartoons, the front and its protagonists were brought into Spanish homes and streets. Their graphic nature facilitated the understanding of the conflict for broad sections of the population and multiplied its emotional impact.

In short, the First World War was not a distant conflict for Spain, but an experience deeply felt through the press. The media confrontation, both textual and visual, international propaganda, and growing censorship by the state permanently transformed the Spanish press and highlighted the fractures in a society that, although neutral in military terms, was intensely mobilized on a cultural, political, and symbolic level.

Berta Lillo, Universidad de Alicante