Spain

An ‘Islamic State of Al-Andalus’: a too distant dream?

February 10, 2021 by Georgina McDonald

By Georgina McDonald

Figure 1 The Mosque-Cathedral of Córdoba (Image credit: Author’s own, G.M.)

Cementing and expanding the Islamic State is of the utmost importance to its leaders and supporters of the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL) who, broadly, advocate for the destruction of the West, a return to traditional Wahhabism for all Muslims and the restoration of an Islamic caliphate to unite Muslims worldwide under their leadership. ISIL rejects traditional nation-state identities, instead favouring an absolutist Islamist identity. This was reflected in a 2014 speech by former ISIL leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi upon the declaration of the Caliphate, who exclaimed ‘Syria is not for the Syrians, and Iraq is not for the Iraqis’. Consequently, multiple branches of ISIL have emerged across the world. Most recently and ferociously in Africa, where the Islamic State of the Central African Province, Islamic State of Somalia, and the Islamic State in Greater Sahara, for example, have appeared to spread their influence. However, if ISIL yearns for a restoration of the Caliphate, then why has Andalusia, or Al-Andalus, the region which holds the ‘Ka’aba of the West’, been neglected from this vision? Why have we not seen an ‘Islamic State of Al-Andalus’?

Historical Background

The region of Andalusia spans nearly 90,000 square kilometres across the southern most land of Spain. It boasts incredible mountain ranges such as the Sierra Nevada and stunning beaches along the Costa del Sol. However, it is in the architecture in the cities of Seville, Granada and Córdoba where the history of the region comes to light. This history is rich in culture and by walking the city streets one is easily able to identify Andalusia’s historic rulers.

In 711 CE, under the leadership of Tariq ibn Ziyad, an Islamic army crossed the Strait of Gibraltar from Tangier. Within seven years they had conquered the region of Andalusia, ending Visigoth rule, and beginning an 800-year Muslim rule which eventually expanded as far as the borders of León, Castille, Navarra and Barcelona. During this period, the region became known as Al-Andalus. The invasion is generally viewed as an extension of the Muslim conquest of North Africa and a successful attempt to expand territory and influence.

Stability was henceforth brought to the region by the Umayyad Caliphate in 756 CE. Amir Abd al-Rahman I had travelled from Damascus to Córdoba where he united the various Iberian Islamic factions under his rule. Later, in 929 CE, Abd al-Rahman III became Caliph and so, the Caliphate of Córdoba emerged. Arabic architecture and influence can be found in almost every city and town in Andalusia as a result. In Córdoba, the mosque, or mezquita, was converted from a Visigoth place of worship by al-Rahman in 786 CE, and is the main tourist attraction, known for its hidden Christian cathedral within. In Seville and Granada, the Giralda and the Alhambra respectively, evidence the intensifying rule which swept through Al-Andalus.

The significance of Al-Andalus to the Islamic State has not been completely lost, however. After the 2017 Barcelona attacks claimed by the Islamic State, for the first time the terrorist organisation released a propaganda video in Spanish. One of the men in the video identifies himself as Al Qurtubí, the Arabic name for ‘the Córdoban’. Al Qurtubí threatened Spanish Christians, claiming that Al-Andalus will once again belong to the caliphate. Despite this acknowledgement, ISIL and its affiliates have not used terrorist tactics in the major cities of the region such as Seville, Málaga, Granada or Córdoba. Instead, their attacks have been focused on Barcelona and Madrid.

Barriers to retaking Al-Andalus

Theoretically, and historically, Andalusia should have great significance for Islamists. Reconquering the region would represent a remarkable step towards the return to the caliphate to unite Muslims worldwide. However, there are significant barriers to this vision. Firstly, the reason that ISIL was able to gain such large ground in Iraq and Syria was a direct result of existing political instability in the region. ISIL remarkably exploited the power vacuum which the US invasion and the capture of Saddam Hussein created in Iraq. Similarly, post-2011 saw ISIL exploit the collapse of the Assad regime and eventually control an area larger than the size of Great Britain. However, as an economically stable, democratic, western nation, Spain and the Spanish government have fortunately not experienced political strife on the level of that in Iraq and Syria. Without a power vacuum, ISIL could not take advantage of a lack of stable government in the same way it has done previously. Furthermore, many Iraqis and Syrians joined the ISIL citing economic reasons. In their war-torn communities where work was scarce, and with ISIL paying recruits, some felt they had no option. And some did not have an option at all. Many men were forced to join the terrorist organisation or face certain death. Fortunately, the inhabitants of Andalusia do not face the same difficulties, therefore are less likely to feel forced to seek aid from a terrorist organisation.

In Europe, ISIL has mainly targeted major cities such as London, Paris, Barcelona and Brussels. This is more than likely a strategic move, to attract attention to their cause from politicians, the press and the public. Due to not being capital cities, the cities of Andalusia are less likely to draw as much attention. However, if ISIL was to attack Córdoba, for example, and it was framed in such a way that the attack indicated a resurgence of the old Muslim Caliphate, this then may draw more European eyes and instil more fear than any attack on London or Paris. Using a historical connection to the region as reasoning for attacks would potentially add legitimacy to their stake in the land in the eyes of their believers. Fortunately, this would not stand with the Spanish government nor with any Muslim who did not hold extremist Islamist views in Spain. Therefore, any attempt at resurgence into the area would undoubtedly be suppressed by Spanish civil and military authorities.

Finally, Andalusia, while once a flourishing Muslim Caliphate, today does not have a large Muslim community in comparison to countries where ISIL thrived at its peak. In 2020, out of a total 8.4 million inhabitants in Andalusia, there were approximately 149,000 Muslims in the region with Spanish nationality, and a further 145,000 with Moroccan nationality. While a large Muslim population is of course not necessary for ISIL to commit terror attacks, it is perhaps more necessary, or at least helpful, for a realistic takeover of the region and formation of an Islamic State as seen in Iraq and Syria. ISIL attempts to use Islamic teachings in order to justify its actions, and while it could encourage a minority of those of the Muslim faith to join the cause, it is more likely fall on deaf ears of Andalusians as the majority are of different faiths or no faith at all.

Conclusion

Despite the fact that the region of Andalusia in the past has flourished under Muslim rule for an 800-year long period, it seems today that the Islamic State are not interested in developing an ‘Islamic State of Al-Andalus’. Perhaps they do not see the value of expending resources to commit terror attacks in a region in order to reclaim it as they know the Spanish civil and military authorities would quickly thwart their efforts. In addition, committing attacks in major European capital cities draws more attention to their cause. At this stage in the Islamic State’s existence, perhaps just gaining attention from the western world is more important than attacking with the aim to conquer. And in order to rule, having the popular support of the population, or at least marginal support, is significantly beneficial. Spain’s stable economy means its inhabitants are not forced to turn to extreme ideas and with only a marginal Muslim population, the Islamic States reliance on old Islamic scripture will not persuade the numbers they need to succeed in a resurgence. For these reasons, it seems an ‘Islamic State of Al-Andalus’ will likely remain a distant dream for Al Qurtubí and the Islamic State.

Georgina is a recent graduate of King’s College, London where she studied for an MA in Terrorism, Security and Society, for which she achieved a Distinction. This article is Georgina’s first contribution to Strife but she hopes to write further blogs on topics including terrorism, international relations and foreign and domestic policy.

NATO, State (Re)emergence, and Military Capabilities and Commitments: the Terms of the Debate

October 19, 2015 by Strife Staff

By: Alex Calvo

USS John Fitzerald Kennedy entering Tarragona Harbour in 2002. The city could be an alternative to Rota as a home port for the US Navy missile defence destroyers in the Mediterranean. https://www.flickr.com/photos/imcomkorea/3047221282/in/photolist-5DgNHY

The possible (re)emergence of states within NATO, at a time of renewed international tensions and widespread concern over the capabilities and commitments of existing member states, means that any such country seeking recognition will have to answer a fundamental question: will the combined capabilities and commitments of the two resulting successor states be greater or smaller than those of the existing parent state? In the run up to the Scottish referendum last year for instance, this was discussed, with some voices in the United States expressing their concern at the possible impact on the military capabilities of Washington’s first and foremost partner. The Atlantic Council, a US-based think-tank published a comparative study of Scotland and Catalonia, which praised the latter, emphasizing plans for naval specialization which fit with perceived US and NATO needs. At the political level, US President Barack Obama expressed his hope that voters would support Scotland staying in the UK, while remaining silent on Catalan independence and deploying USS Philippine Sea (CG 58) to Barcelona a few days before the 9 November semi-official referendum.

The report by the Atlantic Council, and President Obama’s different attitude towards Scotland and Catalonia, are a reminder that each case is different. The (re)emergence of a state within NATO is neither good nor bad in and of itself. It would be as irresponsible to oppose any such internal expansion without a detailed look at the particular case as it would be to blindly welcome it without applying the same careful examinatio. The purpose of this paper is to contribute to the debate, both in general and abstract terms, drawing on the case of Catalonia and Spain as a reference.

GDP. A state’s investment in defence is a measure of its total GDP multiplied by the coefficient determined by its political institutions. The division of an existing state can affect the size of the two resulting economies in different ways. On the one hand, it can lead to smaller and thus less efficient domestic markets. On the other, it can prompt more agile, dynamic, outward-oriented economies. Separation can put an end to the so called “rational underdevelopment” of some regions and to hard-to-justify discriminatory policies in areas like infrastructure, and regional and industrial policy.

A split can have a negative impact, at least in the short run, on both resulting economies if political risk assessments rise, or uncertainty remains over aspects such as the allocation of the national debt. If one of the successor states used to be a net payer to the common treasury (that is, it paid more in taxes than it received in public spending) and the other was a net recipient (it used to pay less than it received), then some questions arise. The short-term question is whether the additional post-independence growth in the net payer will compensate for the drop in the net recipien. In the longer run, the issue is whether the latter will benefit from more rational economic policies and an improved work ethic once it no longer enjoys funds from the former. Both Spain proper and Scotland are net recipients, while Catalonia’s yearly net fiscal transfers to the former are estimated at around 8 percent of the GDP in the last 15 years.

In the case of Catalonia, in 2000, 57 percent of Catalan exports were bound for the Spanish market, with the remaining 43 percent sent abroad; while in 2014, the percentages had reversed. In previous years, boycotts against Catalan products have been organized in Spain proper. The idea behind the boycotts was to prompt Catalan businesses and trade unions to oppose moves for further devolution (in particular the 2006 reform of Catalonia’s “Statute of Autonomy”, a law defining the powers of the regional authorities), for fear of losing market share in Spain proper, with the resulting negative impact on employment. However, rather than diminishing support for independence, such moves have largely backfired, while providing added momentum to the drive for internationalization.Regulated industries (such as banking) still under Madrid’s yoke remain shy when it comes to expanding abroad, but the myriad small and medium-sized enterprises accounting for much of Catalonia’s economic tissue less so, with quite a few having become “pocket multinationals”, that is not very large corporations which are nevertheless present in a wide range of countries. A post-independence boycott by consumers in Spain proper remains a possibility, and would have a negative short-term impact on Catalan GDP, however this would not translate into lower longer-term economic growth, rather the contrary. The reason is that, just like with the boycotts against the 2006 reform of the “Statute of Autonomy”, they would prompt businesses to expand in other countries, thus gaining size and competitiveness. Furthermore, in an independent Catalonia this trend would also involve those industries currently regulated by Madrid, such as infrastructure management and banking, which to date have internationalized to a very small degree. We should also remember that, while Spain’s Castilian core may remain hostile to the new state, Valencia and the Balearic Islands are likely to take a much more nuanced approach. In addition to sharing a language with Catalonia, their economic structure is similar. They also suffer a large fiscal deficit (difference between taxes paid and public spending received) and a lack of infrastructure investment, while their economy is based on small and medium-sized enterprises, which have been excluded by successive Spanish governments from the defence industry and related sectors such as airspace. A third consideration is that the value of Catalan exports to Spain proper include the value added by exporters plus the value of the intermediate goods used to produce them (that is, commodities, energy, and components, bought in Catalonia or abroad by Catalan companies to produce goods bound for Spain proper). Thus, taking the latter out, the effective percentage of Catalan GDP included in exports to Spain proper is lower, 22.5% of the GDP.

Concerning Spain proper, there are no Catalan plans for a boycott, and the independence movement has rather been careful and stress its desire to see good bilateral relations after separation. In that event, as Catalonia opens up further to world trade, and Spanish enterprises lose their current advantage in terms of common legislation and considerable overlap in the mass media sphere, they will face stronger competition from third-country producers in the Catalan market. This could be beneficial for Spanish companies, by forcing them to become more competitive. It would also promote their internationalization in two ways: thanks to this greater competitiveness forced by greater competition in the Catalan market, and due to a loss of market share in Catalonia pushing them to seek alternative markets.

In the short term, however, it is the loss of Catalan subsidies that may have the strongest impact on the economy of Spain proper, which has become structurally dependent on easy money from Catalonia and could suffer a significant GDP loss as these funds dried out. Although the EU and the IMF may push for a gradual easing out of financial flows, with some transitional agreements, Catalan independence would sooner or later mean that the more than 16 billion euros transferred to Spain proper every year would not longer be there. This would not necessarily be bad in the longer term. It could release Spanish entrepreneurial spirits and force a more rational set of economic policies, with for example greater infrastructure spending in industrial areas, more business-friendly tax regulations, and greater competition. Having said this, it is however likely to prompt further defence cuts in the short run. Ideally, this should prompt a fundamental transformation of Spain’s Armed Forces into a smaller, but non-political, agile, and better prepared military. Section 8.1 of Spain’s 1978 constitution reads “The mission of the Armed Forces … is … to defend its territorial integrity and the constitutional order”. This passage, believed to have actually been drafted by the military themselves, is widely understood to mean that Spain’s Armed Forces can be used to prevent Catalan independence, and seemed to be on Defence Minister Pedro Morenes’ mind when he said, in the run up to the 27 September election to the Catalan Parliament, that there would be no military intervention “as long as everybody does their duty”. If to the possibility of a military intervention in Catalonia we add the regular harassment of Gibraltar at sea, we can observe two very serious distractions for the Spanish Armed Forces.

Pyrenees Regiment No. 1 on training exercises. https://www.facebook.com/606201522730252/photos/pb.606201522730252.-2207520000.1445134712./606640706019667/?type=3&permPage=1 — Ski Company, First Pyrenees Regiment, training during the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939). This elite unit was set up by mountain sports enthusiasts and served under the Catalan Government.†

Defence investment and procurement. Due to economies of scale, it could be argued that successor states will need to invest more simply to achieve the same capabilities as the parent state. In some cases, it could even be argued that some or all successor states will not be able to afford expensive hardware. On the other hand, this may facilitate greater integration and coordination with allies, with less duplication and fewer prestige projects. It may also lead to a renewed emphasis on maintenance and training, stressing not nominal capabilities, but real, deployable capabilities (which a country can effectively transport, deploy, and maintain).

In the case of Spain, procurement is deeply imbalanced, with the country embarking on expensive projects mainly motivated by a mixture of prestige and industrial policy, rather than operational considerations. The result: a large gap between nominal and real capabilities, problems in deploying and sustaining forces far from her shores, and a lack of funds for training, maintenance, and operations, with the bulk of defence spending going into personnel and procurement. To be fair, these problems are not unique to Spain. For example, the German deployment in Afghanistan was plagued by equipment failures, with a 2014 official report explaining that “only 42 of Germany’s 109 Eurofighters are available for immediate use because of fuselage defects. The navy faces similar problems with only 4 of its 22 Sea Lynx helicopters and 3 of its 21 Sea Kings currently operational.” However, the case of Spain is perhaps even more extreme, going beyond a lack of proper maintenance. A study on “Southern Europe Defence in Times of Austerity” noted that “[t]he Spanish military industrial base ranks tenth in the world and sixth in Europe thanks in part to its stake in EAD, one of the leading global aircraft companies. This means that any major cut in military investment projects in Italy and Spain directly affects their national economies and aggravates the domestic economic crisis environment. This disparity could explain why the Spanish and Italian governments chose to primarily reduce personnel and operations/maintenance programmes rather than investment programmes, whereas the Portuguese and Greek governments reduced defence expenditures across the board.”

Catalonia’s national security community is keenly aware of such problems, as reflected in successive unofficial white papers by the Military Studies Society (SEM). Its latest on defence budgets, published in June, lays down a set of serious, realistic budgetary guidelines for an independent Catalonia, based on the experience of NATO allies. The text stresses that operations (expenditures covering costs for deployed operations outside member state’s territory) and equipment maintenance have “been a problem common to many Western armed forces” due to a lack of “available resources in this area” of maintenance, prompted by the “excessive costs of acquisition programs.” The white paper strongly emphasizes that “The Catalan Defence Forces (CDF) cannot make these mistakes,” and recommends that “the percentage of the defence budget devoted to operations and maintenance should be between 35 and 40 percen.” For Catalonia, starting from scratch after 300 years without her own armed forces, this is a golden opportunity to avoid past mistakes, by both the Spanish military and those of many allies. The result should be a more agile, balanced military, where equipment is purchased according to perceived needs, rather than by industry lobbying, and then properly maintained.

Turning to the legitimate question of whether Catalan defence budgets will be large enough to sustain acquisition programs in areas like strategic airlift, a quick look at the numbers shows this should not be a problem. Catalonia currently accounts for roughly 20 percent of Spanish GDP, Madrid in turn spending 0.6 percent on defence. An independent Catalonia following NATO guidelines, as suggested by the SEM, would thus be spending the equivalent of 0.4 percent of current Spanish GDP. Adding in the expected long-term greater economic growth from the end of fiscal transfers, irrational economic policies, and sabotage to key infrastructures, it is not easy to imagine total Catalan defence spending surpassing the figure for today’s Spain. Spain may well find herself unable to sustain current levels of defence spending, however, since much of these capabilities are either not being properly maintained and used in training, or are directed towards fellow NATO member states (UK) or American allies (Morocco), it is not something that should concern alliance planners much.

Intra-alliance conflict (between successor states, or between the existing parent state and other partners). Concerning post-independence relations between successor states, at one end of the spectrum we could imagine two good neighbours leaving behind tensions and now able and eager to work together, both bilaterally and within wider permanent alliances and ad-hoc coalitions. At the other end of the spectrum, two hostile states with unresolved disputes and at least one failing to rule out a resort to force, prompting most of their capabilities to be addressed at each other rather than available to allies.

When the parent state has persistently been employing non-lethal force against a fellow NATO member state, the question arises whether once reduced in size it will persist in this policy, now with fewer resources, or whether it will abandon such an approach. In the latter case, the impact on the alliance’s capabilities will be doubly positive, since capabilities devoted to intra-alliance conflict will now be available to NATO, as will be those employed by the other member state to defend itself.

In Spain’s case, the country seems able to work with some of her former colonies, as shown by the successful incorporation of some 30 Portuguese commandos in the Spanish Legion’s detachment deployed in Iraq in a training and mentoring capacity. Unfortunately, this seems to be the exception rather than the rule, with Madrid unable or unwilling to recognize Gibraltar’s right to decide her own future, and the ensuing policy of constant harassment. In 2015, from 1 January to 23 June, the Spanish Navy had engaged in 23 violations of British territorial waters, while absent from BALTOPS201 , in a reminder that in a world with limited resources, failing to rule out the use of force against a fellow ally puts a dent on any potential contribution to NATO. It also has an impact on that ally’s contribution. Thus, when measuring Spain’s net contribution to the Atlantic alliance, we should subtract all the assets and capabilities devoted to the harassment of Gibraltar, plus the corresponding British assets and capabilities employed to defend the people of the Rock. Catalonia, having excellent relations with Gibraltar and the United Kingdom, which the national security community sees as a key partner, does not suffer such handicap. The new state will not have to spend a cent on disturbing the life and property of her Majesty’s subject

Ceuta and Melill, two cities located in North Africa, the former right in front of Gibraltar, administered by Spain but claimed by Morocco, also merit a mention. While this conflict is more low key, a significant portion of Spanish forces are deployed with their defence in mind. Since Morocco is a US Ally, again we would have to subtract them when measuring Madrid’s potential contribution to NATO. Not a problem for Catalonia, which is not party to any territorial conflict with the North African country. To add insult to injury, Ceuta has become the main logistic support base for the Russian Navy in the Mediterranean and North-East Atlantic, with Madrid blatantly disregarding Western sanctions in the wake of the Crimean crisis. In 2014 for instance, Russian warships docked at Ceuta on 13 occasions, while nine such visits have taken place in the first six months of 2015. By opening up Ceuta to Moscow, Madrid has forfeited the claim that it is in NATO’s interest to see Catalonia, including key ports like Tarragona and Barcelona, remain in Spanish hands.

Pyrenees Regiment No. 1 on training exercises. http://webs.racocatala.cat/cat1714/milicies2.htm

Defence industrial policy and international defence industry cooperation. Smaller domestic weapons markets can be cited as having a potentially negative impact. On the other hand, in those states where the dominant nationality has excluded another from the defence industry, the resulting end to the defence industry “apartheid” may enable weapons development and production to take root. In particular, where the excluded territory used to have an arms industry earlier in its history, and retains a significant civilian industrial base, as is the case in Catalonia.

The issue for third countries — in particular those involved in international consortia featuring the existing parent state — is the net impact. This may depend on possible synergies with existing civilian industries in the territory previously excluded from arms production.

Successive Spanish governments have excluded Catalan enterprises from the defence industry and many dual sectors, while subsidizing production in areas like Seville (Airbus Group), with little or no industrial tradition. A 2015 official report on Spain’s security and defence industry provides details of 47 companies, none of which is based in Catalonia, with only three in Valencia Region. Madrid has also strived to keep Catalonia isolated from southern France, home to most of the country’s aircraft industries. An end to this defence policy “apartheid” would allow Catalan enterprises to expand into the defence—and dual—industries, in a move which would benefit maritime democracies, including partners in the F-35 consortium. Spanish industry would contract, but this would liberate the country’s partners from the extra costs involved in manufacturing in regions with no industrial traditio. A look at FDI (foreign direct investment) reveals a completely different geography from that of the defence industry programs jointly sponsored by Spain’s Defence and Industry Ministries. In the second quarter of 2015, 35.1 percent of Spain-bound industrial FDI went to Catalonia, while none of Spain’s at least 300 8×8 wheeled infantry fighting vehicle (IFV) based on General Dynamics’ Piranha 5 will be manufactured in Catalonia. The initial order is expected to be worth EUR1.5 billion.

The location of Airbus Group’s plant in Seville, in the southern region of Andalusia, where there is little private industry, does not make sense. From a French perspective, a Catalan town would seem more logical, since French aeronautical industry is concentrated around Toulouse, close to Catalonia. This would also benefit UK taxpayers, given the significant connection between the Spanish and British defence industries, to a large extent due to the two countries’ cooperation in aircraft projects. According to the official Spanish report on 2014 weapons exports, the United Kingdom ranked first among the country’s customers, with purchases worth 862.7 million euros, 26.9 percent of the total. The report explains that three aerial refuelling tankers accounted for 573,9 million euros and a transport airplane for 121.8 million euros, with a portion of the balance coming from parts for the EF-2000 fighter and the A400M military transport plane. As we can see, this is not trade in finished weapons systems, but rather intra-industry trade among countries cooperating in joint projects, where the distribution of the work involved is often related to the volume of orders from each defence ministry. Therefore, by excluding Catalan industry and imposing manufacture in areas like Seville, with little tradition of private industry, Madrid is raising the total cost of production of these aircraft.

Cohesion, internal security. When an existing state resorts to force, or the threat of force, to retain its present territory and population, a portion of its security and defence capabilities will have to be devoted to this task, and thus unavailable to NATO. Distracted by the need to coerce part of their population into remaining, collective defence may not be a priority.

This is the case in Spain, where the military granted itself the duty and right to employ force to keep the country together in the 1978 Constitution. The 2006 Statute of Autonomy, Catalonia’s last attempt to find a reasonable accommodation within Spain, also prompted sabre rattling, and on 17 May 2015 Catalan police caught three Spanish soldiers stealing an independence flag in Figueres. Stealing flags is obviously not the best way to train for NATO operations, while wasting Catalan police’s time does not contribute to the fight against Jihadist terrori. Every minute spent by Catalan police officers investigating such deeds is a minute not spent fighting against international terrorism and organized crime. The extent to which the resort to force to prevent Catalan self-determination distracts and perverts Spanish defence policy is clear from available statistic. While the defence budget has shrunk by 32 percent since 2008 (68 percent according to some sources, but this may not fully take into account defence spending from other departments’ budgets, for example the Industry Ministry to fund weapons programs involving domestic manufacturing, as well as extra-budgetary liabilities), that of the National Intelligence Centre (CNI) grew by 9.7 percent in 2015. Details may not be available on open sources, but it is suspected that the bulk of this increase is devoted to the “dirty war” against the Catalan independence movement.

Catalonia, on the other hand, has made clear from the outset that Val d’Aran, with her own language and culture, was free to join the new state or go her own way. No Catalan military capabilities will be needed to keep inside those who want out. Whether Spain without Catalonia will stop seeing the military as a political actor is not clear at this stage. Ideally this change should take place, releasing military capabilities currently not available to the Atlantic alliance.

Citizens’ loyalty: Draft and reserves. If some citizens within the parent state feel little loyalty, or even a measure of hostility towards it, for whatever reasons (justified or otherwise), there may be a gap between its theoretical manpower pool and the actual number of deployable citizens, be they regular or reserve. While the parent state may resort to a purely professional military to avoid this problem, it may then translate into a lower degree of political support for defence policies.

This is clearly the case in Spain, where there is little love between the state’s Castilian core and many of her non-Castilian citizens, leading to a downward spiral where the more the centre uses—or threatens to use—force against those wishing to leave, the less the latter feel bound to support the former’s resort to force as a legitimate instrument of foreign policy. Many Catalan citizens who feel alienated by the Spanish military may well wish to support their Catalan counterpart, for example by joining the reserves, making the combined manpower pool available to the two successor states larger.

Transitional issues: Inheriting defence assets and personnel. Downsizing and building one’s military. In addition to wider economic issues, the transition from parent state to successor states also features some aspects specific to the military. Among them, the distribution of existing defence assets and personnel and the accompanying downsizing of the parent state’s and (re)creation of the successor states’ armed forces.

Concerning the distribution of Spanish military assets, preliminary defence planning in Catalonia has featured two views, with some analysts favouring the taking over of some naval and air assets, while others prefer to avoid systems not necessarily best suited to Catalan and allied needs. With regard to Spanish military personnel wishing to join Catalonia’s Armed Forces, the issue is highly sensitive and has not been publicly discussed by the Catalan Government. However, both the Catalan Government and parties have stressed that Spanish Government employees in Catalonia will keep their jobs after independence, and in so doing they have not excluded any category. The Advisory Council on the National Transition, a government agency tasked with preparing a number of white papers to prepare for independence, also refers to Spanish Government workers without excluding the military, although again without referring to them explicitly. Some members of the Spanish military may have discreetly enquired about the possibility of joining Catalonia’s Armed Forces, but they are unlikely to do anything which may put their jobs at risk until this possibility is a real one. We could also mention that when Catalan Police, the Mossos d’Esquadra, began to expand in the 1980s to become responsible for most public security duties, Spanish Police and Civil Guard (a constabulary-type force) officers in Catalonia were given the chance to join. Catalonia may also need to provide for those members of the Spanish military who do not wish to follow this route but who refuse to follow orders contrary to international law and fear subsequent reprisals.

Conclusions. The factors discussed are only a sample of those that may have an impact on state succession within NATO, resulting in greater or lesser capabilities and commitments towards the alliance. This work should ideally be followed by more extensive research and case studies, but should at least serve the purpose of underlining that, no matter how distressing the (re)emergence of states can sometimes be, the consequences to defence policy should be approached rigorously. It is also a reminder that any new state wishing to be recognized by existing states will have to explain to the international community how it will not only defend itself but also its allies and partners. Even more so at a time of increasing tensions, a country’s contribution to collective security is bound to be one of the main factors determining its recognition, or lack thereof, by the international community.

In the case of Catalonia, preliminary defence planning is geared towards the creation of a modern, capable, and agile military, ready to protect the country’s territory and population and make a powerful, positive contribution to NATO. This scenario could also give Spain the chance to reform her own military, in which case the Atlantic alliance would gain two net security contributors. However, it is still too early to say whether Catalan independence will prompt a rationalization of Spanish defence policy and thus a positive contribution to NATO from Madrid.

Alex Calvo, a guest professor at Nagoya University (Japan), focuses on security and defence policy, international law, and military history, in the Indian-Pacific Ocean Region. He tweets at Alex__Calvo and his work, which includes “China’s Air Defense Identification Zone: Concept, Issues at Stake and Regional Impact”, Naval War College Press Working Papers, No 1, US Naval War College, 23 December 2013, is available at http://www.usnwc.edu/Publications/Working-Papers/Documents/WP1-Calvo.aspx, can be found at https://nagoya-u.academia.edu/AlexCalvo

† http://www.facebook.com/606201522730252/photos/pb.606201522730252.-2207520000.1445134712./606640706019667/?type=3&permPage=1

‘Yes we can’: some considerations about Podemos

October 3, 2014 by Strife Staff

By Sophie Bustos:

A new political force emerged in the May 2014 European elections. Being the third Spanish political force in the European Parliament, the far-left party Podemos proved that a new political struggle had just begun in Spain. Or, to put it more accurately, the political and social struggles annihilated by Franco’s dictatorship and marginalised by the transition strongly resurface today.[1]

Since the European elections, various polls show were released which demonstrate the increasing popularity of Podemos and the decadence of the two major Spanish parties, The People’s Party (PP) and Spanish Socialist Workers’ Party (PSOE), conservatives and social democrats respectively. In June 2014, for instance, a poll indicated that in a general elections context the PP would still be in first place, but that Podemos would follow as the second political force of the country leaving behind the PSOE and others far-left parties, like the communist United Left (IU). Results of this sort seem to indicate several things. On the one hand, they point to the brutal and persistent loss of credibility of the parties of the Spanish left, like PSOE, as well as the inability of IU to gather people around its political message thus making it seems as if it was as antiquated and as inefficient as the others. On the other hand, what is being witnessed is the construction of a social protest. Many people voted for Podemos in May because they were disenchanted with the unchanging routine administration of the country and, in their opinion, Podemos represented a suitable political alternative. It cannot be said for certain how Podemos managed to appear so convincing, though likely a large dose of populism played a part; however, the fact remains that it managed to restore some confidence in the relationship between citizens and politics.

If one considers the Spanish political panorama on a national scale, it could be said that Podemos is like an outsider. This is not only because it is a party which qualifies the ‘austerity policies’ as criminal and rejects the impositions of the troika (the representatives of the European Central Bank, the International Monetary Fund and the European Commission), but especially because Spain is not used to seeing a party which uses transparency and citizen’s control as a leitmotiv. Also, Spain is forced to recognise the party’s efforts to be open: Podemos gather people with various political outlooks (some of the past voters of PP are now proud members of Podemos); it celebrates open assemblies in which citizens can ask about its political program and make their own proposals; it even has a mobile ‘app’ through which people can anonymously debate with some of its leaders. Setting aside the fact that the accounts of the party are made public in their entirety on its website, several members of Podemos in the European Parliament also show unusual signs of political decency by declaring publicly that they will only accept their deputies’ salaries and reject other remunerations. This sets them apart from the overwhelming number of politicians in Spain who hold concurrently several well-paid jobs, like the late Isabel Carrasco, murdered in May, who had accumulated thirteen jobs with annual earnings of approximately 150,000 Euros.

However, and that’s why a ‘large dosis of populism’ was earlier suggested, the main political propositions of Podemos are not quite clear, and what can be perceived as its most famous theme, the struggle against what they call ‘the cast’, leaves Spain’s citizens peculiarly dubious. It is difficult to determine whom Podemos attaches to ‘the cast’, as the party spokesmen carefully avoid naming persons, companies or organizations, and this expression could refer to virtually anything an anyone: established politicians, banks, multinational corporations, Francoist supporters, major energy conglomerates, and so on.

The most public figure of Podemos is Pablo Iglesias. A detailed description of his career is outside the scope of the present discussion. Suffice it to say that he’s young and successful, a faculty professor of Political Science at 35, with an impressive CV and a facility with public speaking which matches the impressive media coverage he is getting. Iglesias has become one of the most famous Spanish politicians, and a controversial personality at the same time, being a frequent reference of the Spanish media and the target of a smear-campaign orchestrated by political rivals, mostly from the PP and in a lesser way from PSOE. The attitude of the PP towards Iglesias is a telling example. On the one hand he is treated with absolute indifference, with some of PP’s politicians were swift to declare publicly that they are giving no credit to Pablo Iglesias whose political program was just trendy and ludicrous. Their prognostications about the swift political demise of Iglesias and the disappearance of Podemos, it is now known, were erroneous. Simultaneously, however, day after day, newspapers disseminate among their readership the message of people like Esperanza Aguirre, the President of PP for the Madrid district and major party player, who persistently describes Pablo Iglesias as a public threat, a Chavista supporter, ETA friendly, as one craving of bring back the guillotine for cleansing purposes.

Such cheap-shot attacks are a frequent element in Spanish political debate. They are a common way to discredit and marginalise opponents, but also to scare the public by employing classical images of ‘ghosts from the past’ - dictatorship, terrorism, class-extermination, etc. Even so, the intensity and violence of attacks against Pablo Iglesias is both surprising and perplexing. It seems to be an indication that many influential politicians in Spain feel really threatened by Podemos. It is also, however, a reflection of their inability to compromise, modernise or recognise change, preferring to blindly preserve the society they inherited with the transition system, a society which excludes citizen engagement and participation. This denial is well illustrated by the remarks of Antonio Pradas, PSOE’s Secretary of Federal Politics, who claims that he doesn’t understand this new party’s ideology, and that the recent success of Podemos in the European elections is just a ‘punishment vote’. Such declarations reflect, in the opinion of many Spanish, some of the reasons why parties like PSOE are free-falling in the polls and losing elections. By calling it a ‘punishment vote’, it further appears a conscious attempt to depreciate the wishes and political will of thousands of people to put an end to the corruption and the brutality of the austerity policies. The many attacks launched against Podemos and its leader, Pablo Iglesias, reflect to some extent a crystallisation of all sorts of political issues, and demonstrate the numerous taboos of Spanish history and society which are mercilessly resurfacing, taboos associated with the legacy of Franco’s dictatorship, the place and influence of the Catholic Church, or political clientelism. Who will have the final say? Let’s hope that the voice of democracy prevails.

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Sophie Bustos is a PhD researcher at the Department of Contemporary History, Autonomous University of Madrid. She focuses her research on the diffusion of political liberalism in Spain in the early nineteenth century, and more particularly on the conflict between progressive and conservative in the constitutional regime known as the Liberal Triennium (1820 – 1823). You can follow her on Twitter @Landaburu9.

NOTES

[1] Transition’ refers to the monarchical regime initiated on Franco’s death, in 1975, and confirmed by the 1978’s Constitution. Some of its most important political struggles are the advent of the Third Republic, the fight against the pro-Franco legacy and the acknowledgment of war crimes committed during the Civil War and Franco’s dictatorship.

The Spanish succession: continuity of a dynasty

July 8, 2014 by Strife Staff

By Sophie Bustos:

Picture by Manel Fontdevila. Submitted for the cover of the satirical periodical ‘El Jueves’, but was censored by the publisher of the magazine. Published on ‘Strife’ by permission of the artist.]

On Thursday, June 19, a new king was crowned in Spain. Prince Felipe succeeded his father, King Juan Carlos who announced his abdication on Monday, June 2. The very day that the news of the abdication was made public, Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy gathered an extraordinarily lively press conference; a remarkable event since Rajoy most often prefers to communicate with press and citizens through the absurdly controlled means of pre-recorded conferences. The public had the additional privilege of a message from Don Juan Carlos himself, who explained his motives for abdicating.

Juan Carlos looked much less weakened than in previous interventions. Retirement seems to be a relief. This is not surprising considering Juan Carlos’ poor health and the brutal loss of prestige suffered by the monarchy in recent years. Just to name a few, the Borbon dynasty is beset by the public funds misappropriation scandal involving Infanta Cristina and her husband; Juan Carlos’ luxurious safari with his lover Corinna in Botswana, crowned by surgery because of a hunting accident; the even more suspicious accumulation of wealth of the royal family; even public promiscuity. In any case, Juan Carlos will not have to worry about the consequences of his actions, given that the Government is now working on the extension of his privileged jurisdiction; a technical tool that will grant him immunity from justice until his death.

It is, however, not only the former king that is of interest. The new King, Felipe VI, has just been crowned. The new sovereign looks promising: he is handsome and elegant; he has studied abroad, speaks several languages, is married to a plebeian and has fathered two charming girls. Many in Spain, however, want to get rid of him and what he represents. For it is not necessary to look very far in the monarchy’s historical significance to see that the restoration was entirely due to the will of former dictator Francisco Franco, who sought to perpetuate his Spain, ‘Una, Grande, Libre’. The latter dashed the hopes of Franco loyalists as soon as he was crowned, and launched the ‘Transición’ restoration of democracy. Those events as well as the role of the King in diffusing the attempted military coup of 1982 are essentially at the root of the monarchy’s popularity with the older generation.

On the very day of the abdication demonstrations were called in many Spanish cities. Among other priorities, these protests had the following demands: convocation of a national referendum to choose the country’s form of government, creation of a constituent process in order to adopt a new constitution and, for some groups, the proclamation of the Third Republic. King and Government remained deaf to these requests, and Felipe was sworn in on Thursday, June 19. The attitude of the major political parties, the Conservatives (PP) and the Social Democrats (PSOE), in this matter perfectly represents the state of mind of the Transición, the current and questionably democratic system created after Franco’s death confirmed by the 1978 Constitution. Hardly anyone in these two parties contested the continuity of the monarchy. Those that did, for instance in the PSOE, were reprimanded by their superiors. This is not surprising, given that it was precisely these two political movements who negotiated and effected the Transition, with the monarchy as a keystone.

In parallel and reflecting the desire of many citizens, a group called Referendum Real Ya organised a non-official referendum. Two questions were posed to approximately 30,000 voters. The first, which received 95.8% of yes votes, was whether the head of State should be elected by universal suffrage. The second question –‘do you want a constituent process to decide the organisational model of the Spanish state?’- received 98.1% yes votes. The number of voters was quite low but it reflects present orientations: the will to reform the Transición system with its opaque, corrupt and rather undemocratic institutions.

It is interesting to connect this orientation to the European elections results. While in France the far right obtained frightfully large support, in Spain it was the far-left who was the surprise of these elections. The party Podemos (‘We can’) is now the third largest political force with five seats in the European Parliament and growing popularity (and a smear campaign to connect his leader Pablo Iglesias with ETA). The political polarisation of Spanish society, almost destroyed during the Franco years and anaesthetised by the Transición system, is coming back. The attitude of the major political parties is not so surprising: they have to save the monarchy to maintain the system inherited from the immediate post-Franco era. The royal proclamation ceremony has been the subject of many preparations (impressive police deployment, closure of air space, identifications of persons living near the place of the ceremony, without doubt massive surveillance of social networks, etc.). According to some newspapers, unexpectedly few people turned out to acclaim the new King, and three persons were arrested for shouting ‘Long live the republic!’. Shouting ‘Long live the republic!’ in itself is not a crime in Spain, but to disobey a police officer ordering you not to shout it is.

As previously mentioned, the new King appears promising. However, the pillars of the post-dictatorship Spanish state are also observable in his first official acts. In his investiture speech, Felipe VI spoke of the ‘democratic transition’, the mythical reconciliation of Spanish citizens after decades of Fascist dictatorship. This idea of reconciliation, deeply implanted in the post-Franco era is similar to that of Chile after the Pinochet dictatorship: historical amnesia, no prosecution of criminals and abusers, and limited democratic systems. Also, one of the first official acts of Felipe VI was to receive representatives of associations created by victims of terrorist attacks and their families (including ETA victims, among others). This reception shows the preoccupation of the new sovereign with the support of the nationalist right. Finally, Felipe’s first official visit took place at the Vatican, to meet with Pope Francis. Despite the lack of religious symbols during the proclamation ceremony (neither mass nor crucifix), this is a clear reaffirmation of Spain’s Catholicism.

Dynastic continuity has been preserved, without taking into account the explosion of protests since the abdication. Felipe will have to prove himself and deal with several unpleasant matters (among others, Catalonia’s desire for independence). Will he resist the pressure and be able to seduce his subjects? Only time will tell.

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From Syria to Spain: Lessons from History?

December 20, 2013 by Strife Staff

by Tom Colley

Guernica
(by René Iché, 1937)

The philosopher Hegel famously stated: ‘We learn from history that man can never learn anything from history.’ Others counter that since we cannot yet predict the future, it is only to the past that we can look to seek answers to the strife that we confront today. To that end, many have tried to identify the variables that cause civil wars or the conditions best suited to ending them. Their opponents caution that every conflict is unique, and any attempts to compare or generalise are doomed to failure.

It is in the context of this discussion that one is left reflecting on the future of Syria after another year of civil war. With UN talks in January imminent, interested parties may be wondering what meaningful lessons, if any, can be derived from history to resolve the Syrian conflict. There is a cornucopia of current conflict with which Syria could be compared - instability in Libya and Egypt, Syria’s neighbours Iraq and Lebanon, or the Middle East more generally. But, looking further afield, it is the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939) that provides a number of striking insights into the nature of strife in Syria.

One could be immediately forgiven for asking what comparison can be meaningfully drawn from a conflict that began over 75 years ago. The geopolitical situation of the Arab Spring and beyond bears little comparison to 1930’s Europe. In Syria, for example, the incumbent Assad government battles a disunited rebel insurgency; the Spanish Civil War saw the opposite, with a disunited incumbent Republican government facing Franco’s insurgency. Despite such obvious differences, the Spanish Civil War nevertheless yields a number of worthwhile lessons for the future of Syria.

The Spanish Civil War has been viewed as the culmination of conflict between old and new, between the forces of reaction and reform. Initially, reform defeated reaction, as first the Spanish monarchy and then a military dictatorship under Primo de Rivera yielded to new democratic government in 1931. Five years of seesawing between governments of left wing reform and right wing reaction led in 1936 to the breakdown of the Republican state and an attempted military coup led by the Spanish colonial forces, for whom Franco emerged as leader. Following three years of bloody war Franco’s forces prevailed, largely due to an immense disparity in the level of international support received by the two sides.

Parallels to the Arab Spring are noteworthy. Initial optimism for the installation of Spanish democracy in 1931 was followed by years of political turmoil, as the government struggled to reform the political system stuck between the forces of popular reform and reactionary elites wishing to maintain the status quo. Libya and Egypt at present look not dissimilar as early hopes of the Arab Spring fade.

Comparison with Syria is even more striking, most acutely in terms of the international dimension of the conflict. In the Spanish Civil War, Franco received vital military support from fascist Italy and Nazi Germany whereas dithering Britain and France, concerned above all to avoid another European war, failed to support the Republican government. In Syria, the same disparity is evident. Assad’s backing by Russia and Iran has contrasted with the lack of Western support for the Syrian rebels, concerned as they are to avoid another quagmire in the Middle East.

Both conflicts also share an interesting side effect of the disparity in international support: the extensive and high profile role of international fighters. This week’s Sky news feature on a British contingent fighting amongst Syrian rebel forces has put a human face on volunteers dismissed by the West as jihadist terrorists. The fighters strongly contest this narrative, explaining that their decision to fight is profoundly moral, based on the need to protect innocent Muslims from the Assad regime in the absence of action from the international community. The Spanish Civil War saw a similar and perhaps even more extensive influx of foreign fighters. These ‘international brigades’ came from all over the world, fought bravely and died in great numbers for the left wing Republican cause. In the face of the abject failure to intervene from great powers Britain and France, they felt they had to act. It was all too easy for Franco to label such fighters as supporters of communism, just as both Assad and the West have denounced the international fighters in Syria as terrorists. Thus in both conflicts, fear-inducing propaganda campaigns served to reinforce and legitimate Western reluctance to intervene.

So what lessons can be taken from the comparison of Spain and Syria? The most obvious is that given the unequal level of backing for the two sides in Syria, the Assad regime is the most likely victor. One-sided backing sped Franco to victory in a conflict that could have been far more prolonged. Secondly, if Assad does win, his regime will be further entrenched and, as with Franco’s Spain, repression and reprisal may well continue for decades thereafter.

Perhaps this final comparison is the most disconcerting. In failing to support the Republicans against Franco, Britain and France convinced Hitler that they would not oppose his expansionist agenda. Admittedly the West’s opponents today are vastly different. The cautionary tale though is that non-intervention is a sign of weakness that others may see as an opportunity to escalate their actions. Given the complexity of the Syrian war, intervention or even rebel support from the West is now extremely unlikely. So the West has made its bed, and collapsed into it in a state of exhaustion. As it was in Guernica, it is now in Homs. The Syrian people are still suffering, and may well continue to do so under an Assad dictatorship long after the conflict ends. War is being ‘given a chance’. This may well end it sooner than intervention would have. But the West should note that, as with Spain, the political outcome is likely to be distasteful for years to come.

Spain

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