The British Prime
Minister has ruled out war with Spain over the status of Gibraltar.
No, not a headline from 1745, but from 2017. On Monday afternoon
Theresa May laughed off suggestion of military conflict with Spain,
something seemingly suggested by former Conservative leader Michael
Howard on Sunday. Meanwhile, Lord Tebbit, writing in this
newspaper, made headlines in Spain for his suggestion
of inviting Catalan nationalists for a chat with the British
government.
This is plainly a
massive overreaction.
Call it spin if you
like, but the government sees the apparent Spanish veto as a misstep
by the EU, and a sign that divisions among the EU27 are already
causing trouble. It’s not hard to agree. Yes, the EU is meant to
defend the interests of its member states, but does that really mean
scuppering a trade deal for 500 million Europeans over a small town
on the Mediterranean?
Spain is currently
governed by a minority government of the centre-right Partido
Popular, a party that upholds the mantle of patriotism, opposes
separatism, and and has form when it comes to taking an aggressive
stance on Gibraltar. So yes, it rattles the cage every so often to
stir up a bit of nationalist support and distract from domestic
woes. Witness the chaos at the border in 2013 created by
Spain after Gibraltar built an artificial reef.
The difference this
time, of course, is that Spain has the much bigger platform of the
Brexit negotiations to make its point. The Partido Popular could
hardly pass up the opportunity. That the EU chose to agree to
the demand is its problem not ours.
The same thing goes for
the Spanish foreign minister’s statements about Scotland and
the EU. Yes, it’s clearly manoeuvring by Madrid. But it’s also a
simple continuation of Spanish domestic policy, and of common sense.
Spanish constitutionalism sees Spain as indivisible, and the actions
of Catalan separatists as illegal. Neither of those things are true
for Scotland. Madrid would never countenance Catalonia becoming
independent, and a threat to veto Scotland’s membership would
undermine that stance by implying that it foresees Catalan
independence. Spain is also a strongly pro-EU country and so its
government would struggle, both domestically and in Brussels, to
justify vetoing membership for a stable, relatively wealthy, and
European nation.
What Spain’s foreign
minister also stated was that Scotland would have to go through the
normal process of application to the EU, something it took the most
recent member, Croatia, a decade to work through. Both Catalan and
Scottish nationalists talk of being independent nations within the EU
to give themselves credibility. Ten years in the wilderness is a far
more subtle and politically viable threat for Madrid to make towards
the Catalans.
On Scotland, Spain is
playing its own intricate domestic game with separatists, not winding
up Britain. On Gibraltar, Madrid clearly is winding up the UK. But
again, it’s also playing to the domestic gallery.
It’s worth asking
what Spain actually wants from all this. Spanish demands are always
for co-sovereignty. Not a return to Spanish rule. This isn’t a sop
to self-determination – the government in Madrid has clearly shown
it isn’t interested in the opinions of Gibraltarians, otherwise it
would have listened to the result of the 2002 referendum which
rejected co-sovereignty by 99 per cent to 1. Instead, it is an
acknowledgement that Gibraltar is an economic lifeline in the
otherwise economically depressed region.
Thousands of Spaniards
drive across the border at La Linea every day to work in Gibraltar.
They’re only able to do so because the low regulation low taxation
system on the Rock has created economic prosperity. Make Gibraltar
part of Spain and that disappears. (Full autonomy Honk Kong
style wouldn’t work. It would destabilize Spanish federalism
as Catalonia would almost certainly demand matched powers and it
represents an enormous chunk of Spain’s economy.)
So what does Spain
really want from Gibraltar? Co-sovereignty would salve a wound to
national pride (though not one felt by all Spaniards) and perhaps
provide a large short-term boost, or even an election win to the
party that achieves it. Nevertheless, status quo ante
Michael Howard’s bellum come 2019 would leave the Partido
Popular with its favourite nationalist chew toy to distract from
corruption scandals or economic trouble.
For Gibraltar as for
the UK, the negotiation of Brexit will be complicated, nerve
wracking, and hinge on both huge and small points.
Gibraltar does not have
a soft border with Spain. It isn’t even in the customs union of the
EU. 90% of its trade is with Britain. The real question around
Gibraltar’s future is not trade, but what will happen to the huge
flow of skilled workers who everyday queue at the border crossing.
Without a suitable replacement or some kind of opt-in to freedom of
movement, the Rock’s economy will be sunk. Much hinges on the
outcome of the negotiations, but as in the bigger picture, both sides
can do immense damage to each other, and both sides have more to gain
from compromise than confrontation.
GILES TREMLETT ON ANGLO-SPANISH HISTORY
The absurd history of
British-Spanish rivalry, from Henry VIII to Gibraltar Giles Tremlett
Brexit began in 1527.
It was, in essence, a spat with Spain. The man responsible for
this dramatic and deeply unsettling change in Britain’s
constitution was a fat, childish and overindulged English monarch
called Henry VIII, who became obsessed by something we might call
“control”.
Henry seemed like a jolly chap. He liked
music, drank beer, danced a good jig and also liked women –
although he was somewhat scared of them, which explains why he
chopped off their heads. He came from an England with big ideas about
itself, but which was essentially in decline. It had lost most of its
territory in France and, in comparison to bold and dynamic Spain, was
decidedly puny.
The Columbus family had tried but failed
to interest the Tudors in exploring the Atlantic Ocean and backing a
venture that would change the next 500 years of world history. But
the Tudors were inward-looking, insular types. Instead, a female
Spanish monarch – Isabella of Castile – backed Christopher
Columbus. The next two centuries of European history, and the first
global empire on which the sun did not set, belonged to Spain –
“which, to say truly, is a beam of glory,” as Francis Bacon later
observed.
It is not surprising that the insecure
Tudors were thrilled when Isabella’s daughter, Catherine of Aragon,
arrived in England as a young bride-to-be. It meant that they had
managed a tie-up with the great Spanish royal family. Whereas England
was in retreat, Spain was widely admired as a nation of plucky
fighters who had just conquered the Muslim kingdom of Granada.
Henry VIII’s first major decision as monarch was to marry
Catherine, who was his brother Arthur’s widow, and maintain the
Spanish alliance. But Henry also saw himself as a manly man – and
one who needed another man to reign after him. Catherine, however,
failed to produced a son.
Henry thought he was cleverer than
those in charge of the great European union of the time. This was
known as Christendom and was run from a foreign capital by the pope.
Most importantly, England had recognised for centuries that the
senior court for matters such as divorce also lay in Rome. A
self-deluding Henry thought he could out-argue Catherine, but she was
smarter and stronger. Henry was always going to lose, but the
absurdly high esteem in which he held both himself and English
history made him blind to this. In the end, Catharine won the
argument and the pope refused him a divorce. A petulant Henry cursed
wretched foreigners and launched his own Brexit by leaving the church
of Rome.
Bloodshed followed as the English turned on one another and
squabbled over the country’s new, non-European identity.
While Spain swam in wealth from South America, it took Britain
centuries to achieve global prominence. Only bad weather helped it
avert a true disaster when the Spanish armada tried to invade in
1588. Eventually, however, England grew and spoiled Spain went into
decline.
In 1704, a combined Dutch-English force took Gibraltar –
a barren rock of limited material value, but one that provided a key
strategic port at the mouth of the Mediterranean Sea. Spain’s
decline coincided with Britain’s rise, but they were united by a
hatred of the French. When Napoleon’s troops invaded and the brave
Spaniards turned on his troops, inventing guerrilla warfare, Britain
sent an army to help. Wellington achieved handsome victories in what
became known as the war of independence in Spain and the peninsula
war in Britain. Drunken British troops murdered or raped much of the
population of Badajoz and gained a reputation for heroic, foolish
failure at Corunna (now La Coruña). But Spain was glad to win the
war and, with the exception of Gibraltar, largely remained a friend.
Wellington walked away with a lot of great paintings – especially
by Velazquez – but cultured Spain had lots more, and
greater painters than England, so it did not really miss them.
Things were mostly rosy from then on. British mining companies showed
the Spaniards how to play soccer – and they learned well. The only
real black spot was that a cowardly Britain stood by in the 1930s and
allowed Hitler and Mussolini to help General Franco win the
Spanish civil war, pushing it into dictatorship and encouraging Nazi
Germany to launch the second world war. Many Britons died as a
result, while Spanish republicans (the same people Britain had
refused to help) volunteered to fight the Nazis and were the first to
enter Paris.
There was, however, one major problem. General
Franco wanted Gibraltar. He closed the frontier for many years,
bringing suffering to the poor people of Gibraltar and preventing the
Royal Navy from sneaking over the border for tapas. The rest of the
world generally agreed that this was an absurd spat. What sort of
people would get belligerent over Gibraltar?
Of all the big
countries in Europe, Spain is now the one most enamoured of
Britain. It wants a soft Brexit. It owns British banks, tolerates
drunken tourists and is happy to have large populations of English
people who do not speak its language – some of them undocumented,
so much like illegal immigrants – on its coasts. It is, in other
words, highly tolerant. But it still wants Gibraltar.
This does
not mean it is about to invade. In fact, all it wants is a veto on
future deals between Gibraltar and the EU. Thanks to Brexit, it now
has that. Sensible Gibraltarians knew the risk – and voted
massively to stay in the EU. The suggestion that all this might
now get out of hand and that gunboats should be used is a purely
British one. Which seems as absurd now as Franco’s decisions to
close the border did back then.
