Raúl del Pozo: A Journey Through Time and Words
Raúl del Pozo, a figure synonymous with journalistic integrity , once remarked, “leaving Madrid is always a mistake.” His journalistic universe can only be understood from inside the M-30, which he portrays as an amusing whirlwind, dense with conspiracies and dealings. It resembles the Patio de Monipodio , albeit with a more cynical political atmosphere: in Madrid’s social circles, the first person to excuse themselves from the table for a bathroom break is often the first to be betrayed .
This time, however, he made an exception after six long years, returning to Seville , his “Guadalquivir of the stars.” A place that holds precious memories from the 1980s when he spent countless nights of revelry with Jesús Quintero , for whom he wrote radio scripts, and his dear friend José Antonio Gómez Marín . They would play bingo with El Beni de Cádiz , who would sing out the numbers in soleares , before losing themselves in taverns , casinos , and wherever the warm nights of the city led them.
On a scorching Tuesday, at 39 degrees Celsius and at the age of 88, equipped with a sturdy leather briefcase containing a brown portfolio and fresh clothes, Raúl del Pozo broke his vow of never sleeping outside Madrid. The occasion was too significant: he was to accept the last major award missing from his trophy cabinet . The esteemed ABC of Seville awarded him the Joaquín Romero Murube Prize , one of the most prestigious in Andalusia. Raúl, who feels at home in Seville, earned this accolade for a column about the Machado brothers.
In the heart of a summer reminiscent of Machado’s childhood , Raúl’s article serves as a sliver of unity amid a landscape punctuated by division. Titled “The Machado Brothers Loved Each Other,” it was published on December 15, resonating with a recent exhibition in Seville that sought to reclaim the literary genius of these poets, dispelling myths surrounding their political rift. “For both Spains, they were either good or better, depending on the cainism of the times. They eclipsed each other amid the geography of the front but loved one another and never clashed over ideology,” he wrote.
A proud son of Cuenca , awarded honors from both the Community of Madrid and Castilla-La Mancha, Raúl considers Seville a third homeland. “I am half Andalusian,” he declared one morning while seated on the AVE train, taking in the views approaching Córdoba. That evening, he proved his sentiment during his acceptance speech, delivering his heartfelt acknowledgment in front of renowned figures such as Juanma Moreno , the mayor of Seville José Luis Sanz , Alberto García Reyes , and other colleagues and fans.
To Raúl, Andalusia symbolizes “the final remnant of Paradise.” In the words of Schlegel , it is “the only Western town that remains true to a paradisiacal ideal of life.” “Andalusia has given Spain its melody, its narrative, its duende ,” he intoned with the resonance of a night owl. He added that the defining comment on Seville could only come from Cervantes : “Great Seville, a triumphant Rome in spirit and nobility.” Yet, he humorously noted, “Not everything is bliss: summers do come with heat,” delivered with a British grace .
Raúl possesses a unique writing style: “Everyone changes upon discovering the talent and mystery of Andalusia. Arab princes would forsake the Quran , indulging in the wines produced from the grapes brought back by the sailors of the caravels.” If El Beni had been present that evening, he would have serenaded the gathering with a soulful rendition and rhythmic chants.
A champion of authenticity, Raúl articulates thoughts seldom spoken today. In the tradition of Cela , who regarded him as a son, his columns combine sharp phrases with a rhythm akin to gypsy songs . All wrapped in what Dámaso Alonso once summed up: the finest Spanish imaginable, as echoed by Ignacio Camacho during the event.
From his columns, Raúl is also among the most insightful reporters, often dubbed the leader of the tribe of rogues . He does not tolerate superficiality; each political article uncovers some fresh insight. His dedication to authentic reporting keeps him eternally youthful. When straying from current events, he continues to captivate, whether enlighting readers about a parrot feasting on pomegranates in his garden or referencing the classics as he reflects on spring rain.
During the ceremony, Juanma Moreno , the President of the Andalusian government, hailed Del Pozo as “one of the most indomitable, long-lasting, and remarkable journalists in contemporary Spain.” He characterized Raúl as “a journalist without formal attire, more at home recounting the noises of the streets than occupied on a plush sofa in fancy gatherings.”
Ignacio Camacho further described him as the “elder brother of the sacred confraternity of the Sacred Column and a living legend of Spanish journalism, illuminating each day with the brilliance of his magnificent prose.” Camacho, who had won the IX Raúl del Pozo Columnist Award , remarked that “no government, corporation, or even women—whom he cherishes as much as words—has ever swayed his pen.” This embodies the essence of his life lessons and craft: embracing freedom as a supreme principle, honoring dignity, and maintaining unwavering resolve amidst societal pressures.
Today, Raúl del Pozo boasts a remarkable array of accolades, including the Cavia , González-Ruano , Francisco Cerecedo , and ABC Cultural Prizes , alongside the newly earned Romero Murube. While he may not have been born in Seville like the Machados, his contributions are undeniably profound, and his legacy continues to resonate within the realm of journalism, illuminating the path for future generations.