New names of public figures who have allegedly been banned by Tele 5, part of the Mediaset empire, are circulating. In the first blacklist, even invitations, mentions, and photography were forbidden for Rocio Carrasco, Fidel Albiac, Jose Ortega Cano, Gloria Camila, Rocío Flores, Olga Moreno, Rosa Benito, Amador Mohedano, Kiko Rivera, and Barbara Rey.
We have seen before how programs adjusted to comply with the veto decisions, sometimes in comically careful ways. When quoting becomes unavoidable, Kiko Rivera, also known as Paquirrín, is not named; he is simply referred to as “brother.” When a clip features Rocío Carrasco or Ortega Cano and cannot be removed, the footage is pixelated or blurred. It is as grotesque as it is ridiculous. New names have emerged as banned: the socialite Carmen Lomana, the influencer Georgina Rodríguez, Cristiano Ronaldo’s wife, and the humorist nicknamed Piticlín Piticlín, whose surname has been reduced to a playful shorthand.
People express frustration at what appears to be a government-licensed broadcaster applying broad censorship. With constitutional rights in hand, uncertainty grows: can a television company with a government license openly veto individuals who have used the platform for years to conduct business and reach audiences? There may be not one, but several avenues for challenge. Vetoes exist, yet they often operate differently—more subtle, more decisive, and less transparent. The concept of a formal “blacklist” is rarely public, surviving instead in quiet, often opaque channels. Some describe it as a form of apartheid, carried out in whispers rather than in the public eye.
On Friday, Albert Boadella appeared on a program titled Public Shot on TVE’s La 2. He remarked that the older he gets, the more radical his stance becomes, perhaps because there is less to lose. As a young man, he endured fourteen years of Francoist censorship. Today, he notes that subsidies can act as coercive tools. Observers wonder how long TV-3 may have silenced him as an artist, given that premieres, productions, and successes have not been given fair coverage. Boadella is often perceived as a controversial Catalan figure, and on TV-3 he seldom appears in a prominent role.
In another interview, Nuria Espert spoke during the Col·lapse program on TV-3 on a Sunday. She sat in one of the Romea theater’s chairs and spoke with calm resolve: a choice that led to a path some called useless in Catalonia had nonetheless been pursued, and ultimately there were no alternatives left. The sentiment she expressed struck a somber chord: the situation carries deep sadness and signals a broader cultural challenge for the region. Those voices underscore a climate where suppression of dissent can feel systematic, affecting artists and public figures alike and fueling a sense of cultural erosion.