CENO with Paco Marco in Via Veneto and Gonzalo Sivatte, partner of Molins Defensa Penal and very close to the founder of the firm, Pablo Molins, comes to the gintónics. I do not know about law, although among my dearest friends are lawyers and magistrates who do the impossible to rescue me from my stubborn ignorance. But an old list of detachments has meant that whenever I have written about Pablo it has been bad, and even worse. The first disagreement was when he assumed the defense of Félix Millet and those nights he went to give rock concerts at Luz de Gas, to take advantage of the media pull. I had a total fascination for Millet, then turned into the evil official of Catalonia, and how by stealing, he even stole from his father-in-law the part he paid for his children to get married at the Palau de la Música. Pablo ended up giving up his defense, and the portrait I made of him then, relating the frivolity of the concerts with his abandonment when things got ugly, I read it again before writing this article and I have to admit that it was hard, having Note that, despite everything, the strategy designed by Molins of confession and reparation was key to preventing Millet from going to prison for more than 10 years. But the water passed and no one remembered until the day the former president of Barcelona, Sandro Rosell, was released after two years in jail. My thesis was that it came out thanks to José María Fuster Fabra, who had begun to collaborate with the defense a fortnight ago, and had turned the situation around with the decisive expert opinion of maestro Gonzalo Quintero. Once again I was harsh with Molins, who had been Rosell’s lawyer during the two years of confinement -which I believe perfectly justified and that Judge Lamela is much more right than it seems- and I accused him of not having been to the height of the circumstances. Along the same lines, last week I wrote a profile of José María, to celebrate the recent publication of his first novel, and insisted on Pablo’s “negligence and slovenliness.”
Gonzalo Sivatte comes to the gintónics, a very nice friend of Paco, and he tells me that Pablo no longer knows what to do with me and why should I attack him if he hasn’t done anything to me. I tell you my reasons as I have related them here. And he answers three things, two of them technical and a third that gives for an elegant debate. He tells me that it is unfair to attribute to José María all the credit for Sandro’s release, and I maintain my thesis there, based much more on what the judges of the Court have told me than on any of José María’s propaganda, but I admit that I do not have sufficient legal knowledge to enter into deeper considerations and that Sandro himself claims to be delighted with Molins’ defense; And Gonzalo also reproaches me for using the word “negligence” to refer to Pablo’s actions, warning me that I am accusing him of a crime without evidence, but that in any case it is not in proportion to the effort that the office in general and he specifically you have been dedicated to this case. I wrote “negligence” as a literary device, not a legal one, and if it can really be understood that I am charging you with a crime, I have no choice but to admit that the word was poorly chosen. The effort as an argument does not seem serious to me. Effort is essential to shape talent. But what matters is winning, not trying, and when you lose it always means that you haven’t tried hard enough. In fact, if, as Pablo himself claims, Rosell was acquitted by accepting the National High Court the arguments expressed by Molins from the first minute, it is that José María did something better, and in just 15 days. Pablo and Gonzalo believe that the problem was Judge Lamela, a bit like when I said that the teacher had a mania for me. At this point, taking advantage of Gonzalo’s good humor, and that Jordi Pina is also a partner in the firm, I tell him: “We are going to put this aside, lest his explanations aggravate his attitude.” And with this quote from Judge Marchena, to whom we toasted between cheers and applause, we come to the third consideration, which is that Pablo feels hurt by my articles. It is undoubtedly an exciting affair.
Pablo Molins is, above all, a legal businessman, probably one of the most gifted in Spain. And as the main public relations officer of your company, you know that you have a business open to the public, and therefore exposed to praise and criticism. The greatest compliment is a client and I believe that Pablo has always been clear about this.However, due to the anguish that Gonzalo transmits to me, I believe that his partner is not yet fully aware that the greatest criticism is the one that you most You attach importance to it, and that feeling “hurt” by an article, even one of my articles, has more to do with your narcissism than with the objective harm it can do to you. This is probably the best kept secret of journalism in its attempt to preserve its influence, and its power, in the 21st century, but the sincerity with which Paco’s friend speaks to me seems to me that it deserves my same sincerity in return. I also explain that when I suffer a lynching on Twitter I know that it is enough to not look for two days. This social network is nothing more than a sewer and all you have to do is flush the toilet and open the window.
Having clarified this, which I believe is substantial, I do not feel comfortable with Pablo Molins feeling hurt by my articles. It is true that he has done nothing to me, it is plausible that “negligence” is a misused word, and I cannot deny that my legal knowledge does not provide for the consistent analysis of a case that, like Rosell’s, is convoluted and has more of a slope. For all of this and because my disagreements with Molins are aesthetic or moral, but never personal, I would like this article to serve – in addition to explaining that even in this fanatical, extremely vulgar and hopeless Catalonia, there are still people who think that a friendly conversation is the cultured and civilized way to resolve their discrepancies – to erase in Pablo the trace of any offense or pain. It is never what I pretend and it causes me all kinds of displeasure that the public debate ends with intimate wounds. I do not have the ability to hate and there is absolutely no one in this world who, if I were to find him injured, at night, in the middle of the street, I would not take him to the hospital to have his cures done and I would wait with him for his family will arrive.
And it’s not that I wish Pablo any accident to show him how nice I can be, just as the fact that Louis Aragon’s best poems are the ones he wrote about the Nazi invasion of Paris doesn’t mean that the Germans have to take the French capital for Mr. Aragon to write his good poems, but it seems to me that the magnificent evening we spent with Gonzalo deserves to give us the opportunity to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.