A man who could be a tiger at the negotiating table and a seducer at dinner. A man who inspired equal parts terror and admiration. A man who built a media empire that for decades dictated what Mexico saw, thought, and dreamed. Emilio Azcárraga Milmo, “El Tigre” (The Tiger), was the most powerful businessman Mexico has ever seen. He didn’t inherit power. He earned it. He wasn’t content with his father’s fortune. He multiplied it, transforming it into the Televisa empire. Presidents feared him. Politicians courted him. Television stars owed him their fame. And the public, without realizing it, saw the world through his eyes. He died on April 16, 1997, aboard his yacht off the coast of Miami. El Tigre was dead. But his legacy, for better or for worse, lives on.
The most powerful businessman Mexico has ever seen. Being perceived as a ruthless, cold-blooded tiger helped him intimidate businessmen before sitting down with them to negotiate, and as a result, people often left those meetings even more impressed by his personal charm. He was a man of contrasts. Hard as steel. Sweet as honey. He knew when to attack and when to retreat. He knew when to smile and when to frown. That’s why he always won.
April 16th is the anniversary of Emilio Azcárraga Milmo’s death. That was the Tiger. A controversial man who, for better or for worse, stirred the most fervent passions. A curious man who explored almost every area of national life. A decisive and determined man. A man. Did any other Mexican have a greater influence on the economy, politics, and culture of his country in the second half of the 20th century? So far, the evidence shows no. He was unique. He was irreplaceable. He was the Tiger.
Although proudly Mexican, he was born in the United States and chose to die there. Despite being the spoiled son of a prominent businessman, believed destined for mediocrity, he defied all predictions by becoming even richer and more powerful than his own father. Emilio Azcárraga Milmo, “El Tigre,” was a Mexican businessman born in the United States on September 6, 1930. His surname has been linked for over half a century to the business world and also to the media in Mexico and Latin America, as in the second half of the 20th century, Televisa established itself as one of the leading Spanish-language television companies.
The writer Carlos Monsiváis aptly expressed his sentiment upon learning of his death: “He is one of the few heirs who overcame the fatalism of the privileged privileged class. One of the few who developed and expanded the inheritance because, in general, they tend to diminish it.” By 1993, Emilio Azcárraga Milmo was the richest man in Latin America, with an estimated fortune of five billion dollars. The question that arises, however, is whether the astonishing expansion of his company was the result of his vision and keen business sense, or whether he achieved it due to the absence of local competition and, in general, the favorable circumstances in which it developed, circumstances granted by the system. The debate remains open.
The book “El Tigre: Emilio Azcárraga and His Televisa Empire” is unique and groundbreaking: it is the first (unauthorized) biography of the man recognized as the most important Mexican businessman. It is also a history of the country from the perspective of the development of television, the telenovela, and the relationship between mass media and the government. For five years, the authors conducted extensive and exhaustive research, interviewing more than two hundred people who knew Azcárraga or had a close relationship with him: from friends, actresses, singers, and television hosts to government officials, ambassadors, and former presidents.
Nor does it erase the long history of monolithically official public support for the president, which could be said to have been Azcárraga Milmo’s true modus operandi. Ironically, behind closed doors, the personal relationships between “El Tigre” (The Tiger) and the first three presidents who coincided with his leadership—Luis Echeverría, José López Portillo, and Miguel de la Madrid—were often difficult. During both of their six-year terms, rumors circulated about a possible expropriation of Televisa. Despite Azcárraga Jean’s pragmatic change of party affiliation in 2000, this legacy was perpetuated during twelve years of unconditional support for the PAN (National Action Party) presidents Vicente Fox and Felipe Calderón. This legacy was fully evident during Peña Nieto’s six-year term. And interestingly, loyalty to the president has been evident again in these years of López Obrador.
In search of informants and following leads, the authors traveled to Miami, Los Angeles, New York, Buenos Aires, and Madrid. They confronted various facts and accounts regarding the Mexican businessman’s influence on the international evolution of Hispanic television; they documented his role in satellite broadcasting and recounted the contentious transfer of his empire to Emilio Azcárraga Jean, his heir.
“El Tigre: Emilio Azcárraga and His Televisa Empire” is an admirable biography, crafted with rigor, journalistic agility, and talent. Within its pages, readers will find previously unpublished photographs; testimonies from close associates who speak for the first time about their relationship with “El Tigre”; the deciphering of his famous nickname; the different versions of the story of his four marriages and the circumstances surrounding the deaths of two of his daughters; as well as the complete file on his interference in the Mexican political arena and his sympathies and disagreements with six presidents of the Republic, among many other revelations.
El Tigre died on April 16, 1997. He passed away aboard his yacht off the coast of Miami from pancreatic cancer. He didn’t die in Mexico. He didn’t die at home. He died at sea, like the great navigators. On his yacht, surrounded by luxury, but alone. El Tigre, who had dominated Mexican television for decades, who had made and unmade presidents, who had built an empire, left as he lived: on his own terms. Without asking permission. Without apologizing. Without looking back.
Today, Televisa remains the giant of Spanish-language television. El Tigre is gone. But his legacy, that blend of genius and arrogance, of vision and opportunism, of charm and terror, lives on in every telenovela, every newscast, every entertainment program. Mexicans watch television without thinking about who controls it. But they should. Because television, like power, is not neutral. And El Tigre knew it.
Source: asombroso
