On Thursday afternoon, after understanding that the massive entry of young Moroccans into Ceuta was, above all, a political move, from ARA we contacted several experts in the region to try to decipher the why now. The response from all of them was that it was too early to have clear clues. I especially liked the message that one of them conveyed to me: "More than me, the questions should be asked to Morocco".
At this point in the film, it would be naive to ignore the political, strategic, and diplomatic vocation of the images we saw on Thursday, which were so reminiscent of the 2021 Ceuta crisis, one of the major upheavals in Pedro Sánchez's more than eight years in office. Migratory pressure is one of the most used weapons in the hybrid warfare context in which we Europeans live. Spanish foreign policy has been conditioned by this phenomenon for decades. So has that of the European Union. The accentuated unpredictability that characterizes today's international order suggests that the hybrid warfare context will intensify and mutate in the coming years.
Spain, and also Europe, must understand that geopolitical dependencies and vulnerabilities are much more expensive today than a decade ago, and that the feeling of being unprotected against the resulting blackmail is, in many cases, real.
As a result of this position of geopolitical strength with respect to Madrid, Morocco has been, is, and will be the greatest foreign interference in Spanish politics. Rabat holds the key to triggering a migratory crisis whenever it wishes, which has a direct impact on the Congress's agenda and, even worse, on how Spaniards decide their vote. Immigration, stigmatized and instrumentalized worldwide, has consolidated itself as a highly sensitive issue for any European government. As happened in 2021, what happens in Ceuta these days, and also in Melilla, will leave a mark on the popularity of Sánchez's executive, now at a low ebb, soon in decisive moments.
If we accept that the events in Ceuta have been a diplomatic pressure move by Rabat, it obviously intrigues me to know what message Moroccan policy has wanted to send to the Spanish government. It could be a response to Pedro Sánchez's recent trip to Algeria, Morocco's neighbor and regional rival. It could also be a tantrum for the bill seeking to grant Spanish nationality to Sahrawis born when Western Sahara was a Spanish colony. Or it could arrive, as has been speculated in recent hours, as a result of pressure from Israel and the United States – good friends of Sánchez – on Rabat. It could, indeed, be a mix of everything.
At Moncloa it is often said that relations with Rabat must be handled with kid gloves. Angering the neighbor to the south has almost always resulted in a response. The aforementioned crisis in Ceuta in 2021 came after the Sánchez government allowed the leader of the Polisario Front to enter Spanish territory for medical reasons. Spain's surprising decision, in 2022, to support Morocco's autonomy plan for Western Sahara can only be understood within the framework of this blackmail strategy from Rabat. That change of stance is still Sánchez's most controversial foreign policy decision today.
And this brings us to another headline, still under construction: Morocco has been, is, and will probably be the great inconsistency of Pedro Sánchez's government's highly studied and celebrated foreign policy, which, precisely, tries to be based on coherence. And the headline is not mine. It was hinted at to me a few months ago by a group of people who are part of the Spanish president's inner circle.
Maps are maps and neighbors are condemned to always be neighbors and as long as Madrid continues to be in a position of dependence on Rabat in border management, Morocco will continue to be Spain's kryptonite.
