In Argentine television journalism, fights between colleagues are not simple work discussions: they function as fuel for the permanent show that sustains the field. Public exchanges, full of accusations, ironies, disqualifications and responses in real time, mix with the political agenda and turn any debate into a spectacle. Many of these disputes are fed by the rift—pro or anti-Milei alignments, defenses of Kirchnerism or anti-Kirchnerism—which guarantees polarization and, above all, engagement. From recent cases, it is clear how this climate turns television journalism into a constant drama machine.
One of the most notorious clashes in recent times was between Luis Majul and Nancy Pazos. Majul, a media reference close to the libertarian ruling party, published a message titled “The stone throwers,” addressed directly to Pazos. He accused her of criticizing the Government “without offering alternatives” and called her a “stone thrower” for warning that the Government “explodes at any moment.” He also denounced what he considers a double standard with respect to the Armed Forces: the appointment of Carlos Presti as Minister of Defense is questioned, but that of César Milani, accused of crimes against humanity, was overlooked. He added that Pazos and other critics “love dictators like Fidel Castro and Daniel Ortega” and still act as if Videla ruled the barracks.
Pazos responded with criticism of Milei’s labor reform and the economic climate: “There is no work because the country is paralyzed.”
A few months earlier, he had mocked Majul without mentioning him by name: “I received this information. On April 23, a journalist went to renew his driver’s license at the ACA headquarters. The process was withheld because he did not pass the psychological analysis.” Majul responded to two noteros who intercepted him while he was driving: “I’m all legal, I have a license.”
Another confrontation that escalated quickly was that of Jorge Rial and Jonatan Viale. Viale questioned Pablo Toviggino for acquiring a streaming platform and hiring drivers like Rial, Tinelli, Fantino, Canosa and Doman. “How did you buy a channel and hire those people?” he asked, mentioning “million-dollar loan, complaint for money laundering and suspicion of bribes.” He also spoke of the “silence of some journalists” when “Kirchnerism was stolen.” Rial responded by airing Viale’s personal issues: his alleged house in Los Cardales, supposedly visited by politicians from the current government, and a rental to Brazilian businessmen. “When I talk about you I have to put up with you crying on the phone, telling me that you love me and asking me for coffee,” he said. Viale defended himself by assuring that he lives “in a three-bedroom apartment in Belgrano”, that “he doesn’t have Ferraris” and that he doesn’t receive “neither from the PRO nor from Milei”. The tension heated up after the failed interview with Milei – interrupted by Santiago Caputo – and the versions about a “enveloped” Viale.
On another front, Marcelo Longobardi reacted to the insults that Milei directed at him: “Dinosaur, idiot, stuffed and blackmailed.” The journalist answered ironically—“I take it as an idiot”—but said that the “overwhelming” thing merited a complaint. He also criticized the violence that the President uses on the networks. And he pointed out to libertarian journalists: “Milei should look closer to him, to that entourage that surrounds him, to see who is in charge.” He also called the President an “autocrat” and questioned Donald Trump, whom he defined as an “immoral gangster and danger to the world.”
More crashes. The fights also occurred in panels: Pablo Duggan and Mariana Brey clashed after the statements of Karen Reichardt, who described the opposition electorate as a “mental illness.” Brey repudiated the expression and accused Alejandro “Pitu” Salvatierra of suggesting violence against right-wing voters. Duggan stopped her with a “shut up for a minute,” which sparked more tension. Brey called him “bad” for defending Salvatierra and the panel tried unsuccessfully to calm the situation. Another dispute again involved Pazos alongside Brey during an interview with Martín Menem over the Garrahan conflict. Pazos stated that the increase achieved “the managers did not accept for themselves,” while “the doctors celebrated.” Brey interrupted, accusing misrepresentation and reminding that the 60 percent increase was granted “now, not before.” Pazos, upset, ironically called her a “defense lawyer” and told her to shut up live.
The fight between Viale and Eduardo Feinmann also escalated into judicial territory after Cryptogate. Viale claimed that he “lacked firmness” to stop those who interrupted the interview with Milei. Feinmann called the episode “an international disgrace.” Viale counterattacked with personal references: “I remember everything about you. You grabbed it and I didn’t. I’m clean.” He accused him of supporting Larreta for money, and Feinmann took legal action.
Luis Gasulla targeted Roberto Navarro for “jumping off the path,” recalling his historic defense of Kirchnerism. Navarro responded by saying that public works were “posted before, during and after Kirchnerism” and that there were businessmen and officials who paraded before Justice. Gasulla insisted that Navarro did “shitty journalism to dirty the investigative journalism.”
Finally, Navarro also crossed Cristina Pérez for her condemnation of the “testimonial candidacies.” Pérez criticized Fernando Espinoza and described this practice as a “perversion of the representation system.” Navarro reminded him of his indignant editorials against the PJ and pointed out that now, after the decision of Adorni and Santilli not to assume their seats, he had to maintain the same standard. “Control the pressure,” he ironized, questioning the supposed independence of Pérez, who is close to the Government despite proclaiming himself a “free journalist.”
All of these episodes show how television fights—fueled by rifts, egos, and competition—not only expose contradictions and hypocrisies, but are integrated into the logic of the show. In an ecosystem where political discussion becomes entertainment, drama is part of the business: the crossings, the shouts and the passing of the bill become an addictive product that keeps the public watching and, above all, polarized.
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