HARD ROCK
Simon Young on the humbug in
Spain's negotiating position over Gibraltar
SPAIN and Britain can, at first glance, seem like very different places. Viewed dispassionately, however, the two quickly prove to have a surprising number of things in common. Both are composites: mongrel nations made up of a collection of different peoples. Both are dominated by a pivotal central group: the English/the Castilians. But both, too, have dissatisfied junior partners — Wales, Scotland/Galicia, Catalonia; and a region — Northern Ireland/the Basques — that stands constantly on the brink of civil war, Then there is their imperial legacy. Both have a valued and heavily defended archipelago far from home: the Falklands/the Canaries. And, of course, both countries govern a foreign pocket of territory surrounded by a neighbour that wants the territory in question back: Ceuta (Morocco) in the case of Spain, and, in the case of Britain, Gibraltar.
Gibraltar, as recent events have shown, should dispel any idea that the similarities between the two nations increase understanding. Britain and Spain have argued over that unhappy peninsula for 300 years, and at times — for example. the Spanish blockade in the 1970s — tension has reached dangerously high levels. However, the negotiations begun in November have a different feel to them. For the first time since the Treaty of Utrecht in 1713 the British government really seems prepared to accommodate Spanish claims to sovereignty. Gibraltar's politicians are frantic, Madrid jubilant. The long road to Spanish rule looms.
The affable negotiator from Madrid will no doubt tell his British counterparts that it is all for the best. After all, the UN's Committee for Decolonisation has the Rock in its cross-hairs. Most of the 30,000 inhabitants speak Spanish as their first language, not English. And geography is hardly in Britain's favour: there are 3,000 kilometres between Gibraltar and the English Channel. As this ever so reasonable negotiator from Madrid will soon be saying to London's delegation, 'Isn't it time for history to return to the peninsula and for the Rock to be given back to its rightful owner?'
If Gibraltar were on the Baltic or in Tuscany, these arguments might prove awkward. However. Britain's rival in this case
is not Denmark or Italy, but Spain; the same Spain that has, as we have already seen, its own Gibraltar. Ceuta, on the Moroccan coast, is a mere 50 kilometres from the British colony, while another 'Spanish' city, Melilla, lies 200 kilometres to the east, again on the African coast.
For years Morocco has demanded that these two cities be returned. In fact, in the past few weeks the issue has contributed to a nasty diplomatic spat between the two countries. But Spain stands firm. The two cities have been Spanish for centuries, and there is every indication that the population wants to remain under Spanish rule. So, not surprisingly. the Spanish foreign minister, Josep Piqué, had some strong words for his Moroccan counterpart when the subject was broached recently. Ceuta and Melilla. he said, are Spanish and will always be Spanish'. Full stop. End of story.
Piqué does not seem to see any schizophrenia in furiously fighting off the Moroccans, while at the same time coaxing the British into surrendering Gibraltar. In fact, he will often refer to the two subjects passionately in the same interview or speech. That Gibraltar has belonged to Britain for three centuries, and that in a referendum a generation ago 99.6 per cent of the inhabitants of the Rock insisted that they wanted to remain British, is never mentioned. However, in the case of Spain's African territories a shared history and popular support is the well-publicised seal on Madrid's rule.
Of course, contradictions are the norm in relations between Spain and Britain. Take, for example, Spanish perceptions of Northern Ireland. If any European country should understand Britain's duty in the Six Counties, it is Spain. But ask a Spaniard about the Troubles, and you will most often hear give-Ireland-back-to-the-Irish sentiments; sentiments that are more characteristic of French intellectuals or Italian university professors than of fellow sufferers.
And it is exactly the same with the Falklands. Spain has the Canaries. She should understand. After all. the Canaries, like the Falklands, have been a crown possession for centuries, and both island groups have a population that overwhelmingly wants to belong to the mother country. But in the terrible summer of 1982 most Spaniards opted for the Argentinian junta over Britain in that act of international terrorism remembered as the Falklands conflict. Resurgent Spanish democracy in bed with the caudillo Galtieri? It is difficult to believe. But not as difficult to imagine as the fury that the average Spaniard will display if you suggest that the Canaries be trussed up and handed over Malvinas-style to Western Sahara.
So what should Britain do about Spain's inconsistent views on overseas possessions? Take a leaf out of Madrid's own book, perhaps? The real failure of Spain to understand Britain's dilemmas in foreign climes does not come down to some evil or irrational Spanish gene; rather it is a result of a very different way of looking at historical accidents such as Gibraltar.
The British tend to treat washed-up pieces of empire as, well, washed-up pieces of empire. Lands are guarded, not according to the desires of the population, but at the convenience of Her Majesty's government. It was indicative of this that some of Gibraltar's 'friends' in Britain defended the Rock last week as an exotic version of the Treaty Ports, which might prove useful to the British navy. Its 30,000 inhabitants were all but forgotten.
Spain, on the other hand, has enthusiastically embraced the last relics of its once mighty empire. Ceuta and Melilla and the Canaries are all represented in the Spanish parliament. Spanish children learn about them at school, and Spanish people tend to think of them not as 'territories' but as part of Spain — an important distinction, The national newsreader announces at the beginning of the bulletin that 'It is 12 o'clock and one o'clock in the Canaries'. Can you imagine a BBC news bulletin beginning with 'It is 12 o'clock and one o'clock in Gibraltar'?
Britain has left it too late. The last few years have seen a movement in Gibraltar from a pro-British position to a pro-independence position, so little faith does the population have in London's will to protect it, And who can blame them? After serving Britain loyally for so many years, the Foreign Office's escapades in Madrid must seem like betrayal: what is more, it is unnecessary betrayal. After all, Britain has all the best cards. The vast majority of the people of Gibraltar are opposed to Spanish rule. World opinion would support Gibraltar against Spain: 'decolonisation' — a disgusting euphemism for 'colonisation' in this case — would make for ugly television. And finally, adding insult to indifference, lying only 50 kilometres across the water is Ceuta — the final proof of Spanish double-standards and Britain's neglect.
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