The year 2024 began for EFE with a beautiful metaphor: in January, we placed part of the agency’s legacy—built by generations of journalists over its 85-year history—into the Caja de las Letras at the Instituto Cervantes. The idea, launched in 2007 by its then-director César Antonio Molina, was as simple as it was profound. The old safety deposit boxes—once used to conceal reptiles or diamonds, the legendary vaults of the Banco Central, hidden behind a multi-ton armored door—had been transformed into sanctuaries for words, for poetry, for photographs.
Seventeen years after the birth of these time capsules, EFE was also able to preserve several of its treasures inside one of them: the agency’s New Urgent Stylebook, its first story in digital format, and the historic photographs of the attempted coup on February 23, captured inside Congress by our esteemed photographers Manuel Hernández de León and Manuel Barriopedro. The death of Hernández de León in August 2024 is one of the somber events we must reflect on in this review of a year now gone. As for the latest edition of the Stylebook, the Instituto Cervantes provided us with a welcoming space, hosting presentations throughout the year at some of its most prominent branches, including Madrid, Rabat, Beijing, São Paulo, and New Delhi.
That act of deposit at the Cervantes Institute concluded with its current director, Luis García Montero, presenting EFE with a golden key to open and close “our box.” It is a powerful symbol. If we were to imagine, figuratively, that this key unlocked the year 2024—what a dizzying thought—it granted us entry to both paradise and hell.
2024 was not an easy year. War fronts continued, soaked in blood and fire, and persist in Ukraine and Gaza. The images and footage from inside Gaza reach the public through EFE and other agencies, thanks to Gazan reporters who risk their lives daily. Many have died in the bombings, while the Israeli army prevents the free press from entering.
But the region saw new wounds open in 2023 as well—in Lebanon, with regular bombings until September, and in Syria, where the collapse of Bashar al-Assad’s regime ended in December with the dictator’s flight and the formation of a new transitional government. EFE correspondents, deployed swiftly from the Syrian–Lebanese border, were among the first to arrive in Damascus. Our bureaus in Jerusalem and Cairo continue to provide coverage of events in one of the world’s most tormented regions—a further demonstration that EFE is always present.
Just a few weeks earlier, in November, the United States held presidential elections, ushering in a new era with the victory of Donald Trump. During the campaign, in early July, a lone gunman opened fire on the Republican candidate during a rally in Pennsylvania. Bullets whizzed past, one of them grazing his ear. An EFE journalist and an EPA photographer were there to report it to the world. They were the only ones working for a Spanish-language media outlet. The photo of Trump, blood streaming from his torn ear, along with the first-hand, ground-level account by our journalists, filled us once again with deep pride in our work at EFE.
And what can be said about the efforts of our bureau in Venezuela during the tense and dramatic presidential campaign ahead of the July 28 election? EFE and other international agencies were recognized by pro-democracy groups for their coverage, while also receiving disdain and insults from those who reject press freedom. The Caracas government called us ‘trash’ for reporting too much. Never before had being labeled ‘trash’ so motivated us to continue reporting.
And so, EFE was where it needed to be. And, sometimes, in the rush, where it shouldn’t have been. In October, we made several serious errors in a row. Unfortunately, one of them occurred just hours before the opening in Madrid of the leading exhibition commemorating the agency’s 85-year history. It was a challenging situation, to which EFE responded with speed and responsibility: subscribers were notified, the mistakes were immediately corrected, and apologies were issued. Rightly so—truthfulness and traceability are the hallmarks of EFE‘s reporting.
Tragically, October ended in Spain with a catastrophe that overshadowed all else. On the morning of the 29th, severe warnings of torrential rain were issued for the eastern part of the country, especially the Valencian Community. By mid-afternoon, the skies burst over the headwaters of several streams, unleashing a deadly surge of water toward the southern farmland and nearby areas. Two hundred and twenty-eight people lost their lives.
For weeks, the professionals at EFE‘s Valencia bureau walked the same mud as the victims, scouring every corner to tell and document the devastating aftermath of the storm. Their dedication knew no bounds—and neither does our gratitude. For nearly a month, the agency provided free access to its text and photo services to fulfill its duty as a public media outlet: to offer accurate, reliable information amid flood and mire.
These are some of the defining moments of the year 2024, reflected in this annual report. With this letter, I’ve sought to highlight them: the journalists and reporters, those who strike the anvil of facts every day. To them—and to those they report on—we are indebted.
The year 2024 began for EFE with a beautiful metaphor: in January, we placed part of the agency’s legacy—built by generations of journalists over its 85-year history—into the Caja de las Letras at the Instituto Cervantes. The idea, launched in 2007 by its then-director César Antonio Molina, was as simple as it was profound. The old safety deposit boxes—once used to conceal reptiles or diamonds, the legendary vaults of the Banco Central, hidden behind a multi-ton armored door—had been transformed into sanctuaries for words, for poetry, for photographs.
Seventeen years after the birth of these time capsules, EFE was also able to preserve several of its treasures inside one of them: the agency’s New Urgent Stylebook, its first story in digital format, and the historic photographs of the attempted coup on February 23, captured inside Congress by our esteemed photographers Manuel Hernández de León and Manuel Barriopedro. The death of Hernández de León in August 2024 is one of the somber events we must reflect on in this review of a year now gone. As for the latest edition of the Stylebook, the Instituto Cervantes provided us with a welcoming space, hosting presentations throughout the year at some of its most prominent branches, including Madrid, Rabat, Beijing, São Paulo, and New Delhi.
That act of deposit at the Cervantes Institute concluded with its current director, Luis García Montero, presenting EFE with a golden key to open and close “our box.” It is a powerful symbol. If we were to imagine, figuratively, that this key unlocked the year 2024—what a dizzying thought—it granted us entry to both paradise and hell.
2024 was not an easy year. War fronts continued, soaked in blood and fire, and persist in Ukraine and Gaza. The images and footage from inside Gaza reach the public through EFE and other agencies, thanks to Gazan reporters who risk their lives daily. Many have died in the bombings, while the Israeli army prevents the free press from entering.
But the region saw new wounds open in 2023 as well—in Lebanon, with regular bombings until September, and in Syria, where the collapse of Bashar al-Assad’s regime ended in December with the dictator’s flight and the formation of a new transitional government. EFE correspondents, deployed swiftly from the Syrian–Lebanese border, were among the first to arrive in Damascus. Our bureaus in Jerusalem and Cairo continue to provide coverage of events in one of the world’s most tormented regions—a further demonstration that EFE is always present.
Just a few weeks earlier, in November, the United States held presidential elections, ushering in a new era with the victory of Donald Trump. During the campaign, in early July, a lone gunman opened fire on the Republican candidate during a rally in Pennsylvania. Bullets whizzed past, one of them grazing his ear. An EFE journalist and an EPA photographer were there to report it to the world. They were the only ones working for a Spanish-language media outlet. The photo of Trump, blood streaming from his torn ear, along with the first-hand, ground-level account by our journalists, filled us once again with deep pride in our work at EFE.
And what can be said about the efforts of our bureau in Venezuela during the tense and dramatic presidential campaign ahead of the July 28 election? EFE and other international agencies were recognized by pro-democracy groups for their coverage, while also receiving disdain and insults from those who reject press freedom. The Caracas government called us ‘trash’ for reporting too much. Never before had being labeled ‘trash’ so motivated us to continue reporting.
And so, EFE was where it needed to be. And, sometimes, in the rush, where it shouldn’t have been. In October, we made several serious errors in a row. Unfortunately, one of them occurred just hours before the opening in Madrid of the leading exhibition commemorating the agency’s 85-year history. It was a challenging situation, to which EFE responded with speed and responsibility: subscribers were notified, the mistakes were immediately corrected, and apologies were issued. Rightly so—truthfulness and traceability are the hallmarks of EFE‘s reporting.
Tragically, October ended in Spain with a catastrophe that overshadowed all else. On the morning of the 29th, severe warnings of torrential rain were issued for the eastern part of the country, especially the Valencian Community. By mid-afternoon, the skies burst over the headwaters of several streams, unleashing a deadly surge of water toward the southern farmland and nearby areas. Two hundred and twenty-eight people lost their lives.
For weeks, the professionals at EFE‘s Valencia bureau walked the same mud as the victims, scouring every corner to tell and document the devastating aftermath of the storm. Their dedication knew no bounds—and neither does our gratitude. For nearly a month, the agency provided free access to its text and photo services to fulfill its duty as a public media outlet: to offer accurate, reliable information amid flood and mire.
These are some of the defining moments of the year 2024, reflected in this annual report. With this letter, I’ve sought to highlight them: the journalists and reporters, those who strike the anvil of facts every day. To them—and to those they report on—we are indebted.
The year 2024 began for EFE with a beautiful metaphor: in January, we placed part of the agency’s legacy—built by generations of journalists over its 85-year history—into the Caja de las Letras at the Instituto Cervantes. The idea, launched in 2007 by its then-director César Antonio Molina, was as simple as it was profound. The old safety deposit boxes—once used to conceal reptiles or diamonds, the legendary vaults of the Banco Central, hidden behind a multi-ton armored door—had been transformed into sanctuaries for words, for poetry, for photographs.
Seventeen years after the birth of these time capsules, EFE was also able to preserve several of its treasures inside one of them: the agency’s New Urgent Stylebook, its first story in digital format, and the historic photographs of the attempted coup on February 23, captured inside Congress by our esteemed photographers Manuel Hernández de León and Manuel Barriopedro. The death of Hernández de León in August 2024 is one of the somber events we must reflect on in this review of a year now gone. As for the latest edition of the Stylebook, the Instituto Cervantes provided us with a welcoming space, hosting presentations throughout the year at some of its most prominent branches, including Madrid, Rabat, Beijing, São Paulo, and New Delhi.
That act of deposit at the Cervantes Institute concluded with its current director, Luis García Montero, presenting EFE with a golden key to open and close “our box.” It is a powerful symbol. If we were to imagine, figuratively, that this key unlocked the year 2024—what a dizzying thought—it granted us entry to both paradise and hell.
2024 was not an easy year. War fronts continued, soaked in blood and fire, and persist in Ukraine and Gaza. The images and footage from inside Gaza reach the public through EFE and other agencies, thanks to Gazan reporters who risk their lives daily. Many have died in the bombings, while the Israeli army prevents the free press from entering.
But the region saw new wounds open in 2023 as well—in Lebanon, with regular bombings until September, and in Syria, where the collapse of Bashar al-Assad’s regime ended in December with the dictator’s flight and the formation of a new transitional government. EFE correspondents, deployed swiftly from the Syrian–Lebanese border, were among the first to arrive in Damascus. Our bureaus in Jerusalem and Cairo continue to provide coverage of events in one of the world’s most tormented regions—a further demonstration that EFE is always present.
Just a few weeks earlier, in November, the United States held presidential elections, ushering in a new era with the victory of Donald Trump. During the campaign, in early July, a lone gunman opened fire on the Republican candidate during a rally in Pennsylvania. Bullets whizzed past, one of them grazing his ear. An EFE journalist and an EPA photographer were there to report it to the world. They were the only ones working for a Spanish-language media outlet. The photo of Trump, blood streaming from his torn ear, along with the first-hand, ground-level account by our journalists, filled us once again with deep pride in our work at EFE.
And what can be said about the efforts of our bureau in Venezuela during the tense and dramatic presidential campaign ahead of the July 28 election? EFE and other international agencies were recognized by pro-democracy groups for their coverage, while also receiving disdain and insults from those who reject press freedom. The Caracas government called us ‘trash’ for reporting too much. Never before had being labeled ‘trash’ so motivated us to continue reporting.
And so, EFE was where it needed to be. And, sometimes, in the rush, where it shouldn’t have been. In October, we made several serious errors in a row. Unfortunately, one of them occurred just hours before the opening in Madrid of the leading exhibition commemorating the agency’s 85-year history. It was a challenging situation, to which EFE responded with speed and responsibility: subscribers were notified, the mistakes were immediately corrected, and apologies were issued. Rightly so—truthfulness and traceability are the hallmarks of EFE‘s reporting.
Tragically, October ended in Spain with a catastrophe that overshadowed all else. On the morning of the 29th, severe warnings of torrential rain were issued for the eastern part of the country, especially the Valencian Community. By mid-afternoon, the skies burst over the headwaters of several streams, unleashing a deadly surge of water toward the southern farmland and nearby areas. Two hundred and twenty-eight people lost their lives.
For weeks, the professionals at EFE‘s Valencia bureau walked the same mud as the victims, scouring every corner to tell and document the devastating aftermath of the storm. Their dedication knew no bounds—and neither does our gratitude. For nearly a month, the agency provided free access to its text and photo services to fulfill its duty as a public media outlet: to offer accurate, reliable information amid flood and mire.
These are some of the defining moments of the year 2024, reflected in this annual report. With this letter, I’ve sought to highlight them: the journalists and reporters, those who strike the anvil of facts every day. To them—and to those they report on—we are indebted.
