The Rock Of Mare Nostrum

Gibraltar, as with Brexit, is a subject I generally avoid. Both polarise opinion. There is no in-between. Arguing them becomes all but pointless. The extremes of views are underpinned by concepts that are still relatively recent phenomena in terms of socio-politics. Nationalism and sovereignty, according to one strong vein of historical theory at any rate, are products of mid-nineteenth century Europe. The nation state arose from what had previously been multi-cultural non-nations. This state, so the theory asserts, was one predicated on ethnic as well as cultural lines. Nationalism emerged; its consequences were to be disastrous.

Brexit is an internecine civil war, suffused with a blinkered parochialism that shouts sovereignty and nationalism. It is, though, and despite its far broader ramifications, a civil war, an internal affair for a nation (and many of its people) which has failed to come to terms with changes to its place in the world order and has also failed to break a collective mindset imposed by insularity and an historical defiance. William the Conqueror was the last to conquer. The Romans had done so much earlier. Subsequently, Hitler was prevented from doing so. Before the Nazis, the Spanish Armada was seen off.

The Armada is my link with Gibraltar. Two one-time empires argue over it. They've argued for centuries. The thirteen-year blockade, started in 1969 by Franco, may or may not have been influenced by John Lennon having referred to "Gibraltar near Spain". On such a frivolous notion is nationalism nevertheless offended.

These two empires at various times ruled the waves. Spain's was largely the result of a geographical accident. Columbus hadn't anticipated discovering America. Not that he really did. It took Amerigo Vespucci to confirm that there was indeed a whole continent in the way of the route to the East Indies, and Vespucci, like Columbus, except for those who would argue otherwise, was Italian. The Spanish Empire owed much to Florence and Genoa. It was also indebted to the viciousness of the Inquisition and to the ending of a multi-culturalism that had endured for some eight centuries. The peculiar coincidences of history were never more peculiar than in 1492. Columbus stumbled across land he hadn't expected to find, and Muslim Granada surrendered.

Gibraltar was taken in 1704. Control was officially ceded to Britain nine years later. One empire was emerging. Another was starting its long goodbye. The ever-reducing empire was to endure further psychological blows. Spain as a country has suffered them consistently. The loss of Cuba and the Philippines, getting on for some two hundred years after Gibraltar, was one of the most shattering.

The Rock resides therefore in the collective consciousness, a symbol of long-ago battles. For the British, there is an entirely different perspective, but still one linked to a faded imperial past. Brexit fallout has landed on Gibraltar and has given rise to absurdities such as those of Kelvin MacKenzie. Suspended because of Ross Barkley, he had only a short time before been advocating a British tourist boycott of Spain. The reason? Gibraltar. Hands off our Rock.

This Gibraltar consciousness in Spain is, however, something I wonder about in terms of its universality and indeed perception. Is there the same attitude in Galicia, for example, as there is in Andalusia or Mallorca? Mariano Rajoy is from Galicia, as was Francisco Franco. Perhaps there is a universality, therefore, if only in politicians' minds. That there may be a difference in Spanish perspective - one between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean - occurred to me in the course of working on the book about the Mediterranean's history and culture. Indeed, I would say that the events of 1704 appeared to be as profound as any other developments over the centuries.

The Strait of Gibraltar and the Mediterranean were formed millions of years ago. The Strait, the narrow gap between continents, was the inlet and the outlet. Gibraltar was thus the guardian of the sea. The British took it away.

The "Mare Nostrum" was the name the Romans gave it. Our Sea. Not anyone else's. Ours. The legacy was passed to other cultures. Our Sea was a common space, and one in which Mallorca was just a tiny part. Nevertheless, it is an island that has been shaped by the activities of Our Sea.

One has to look at issues with alternative perspectives, ones that overcome the hotheadedness of nationalism and sovereignty. I was jolted by the 1704 reference. Although it wasn't stated, there was an element of lament, one for a Mediterranean existence. It was not as though the Mediterranean hadn't known previous usurpers. For instance, most of the Goths and Barbarian hordes had known nothing of the sea. But essentially, and over centuries, the Mediterranean was a Mediterranean affair until new powers arrived. And one of those is nowadays the northern European tourist army and resident. Do we borrow the sea? Can we claim it to be ours?

How To Decide The Future Of Gibraltar

I quite like Danny Higginbotham. Not in a man love way or any other sort of love way. Just that he comes across well on radio and usually speaks good sense. Plus, because he was never a BIG name in English football, you can listen to him and believe that he was and is in touch with the real world and therefore that he approximates to being a real person and does not inhabit a world of make-believe alongside many of the strange species to nowadays be found in English football. There was always, of course, the possibility that he wasn't a real person in that he was The Secret Footballer, but he's flatly denied this and his name long ago disappeared from the polls which generally seem to favour Dave Kitson. 

Were he The Secret Footballer and were he to be utterly truthful and up-to-date, even behind this guise he would have to spill the beans about suddenly being elevated onto the international scene, an elevation I was unaware of until John Carlin, writing on the English page of "El País" brought this fact to my attention and also brought to my attention the little matter of the article in "The Telegraph".

Higginbotham, some of you may know, has agreed, if only in principle, to start a belated international career. Most 34-year-old central defenders who now find themselves plying their trade in the Conference wouldn't normally expect an international call-up, but Higginbotham may well become the hard man, the rock at the centre of the defence of Gibraltar's national side.

Glossing over the obvious discrepancy in the previous sentence (that of putting the words Gibraltar and national together), how is it that this one-time and very occasional Manchester United player now pundit now writer now not The Secret Footballer comes to get the opportunity to turn out for the Gib team? It is because of his grandmother, but it's his grandmother which is how Carlin and "The Telegraph" enter the equation. Carlin had picked up on a short piece in "The Telegraph" about Higginbotham's late emergence as an international footballer, and the reason he took particular delight in this short piece was that "The Telegraph" attributed Higginbotham's qualification to his Spanish grandmother.

You may detect that there is something slightly odd about this. If not, then I suspect you are not fully apprised of the facts regarding Gibraltar's relationship to Spain. Suffice it to say that "The Telegraph" got it wrong. Higginbotham's grandmother was Gibraltarian. Had she been Spanish, then Higginbotham might have found getting a place in Del Bosque's squad rather more difficult than getting into Gibraltar's.

We can all make mistakes of course, though "The Telegraph" did rather compound the error by referring to Gibraltar as an island. An easy enough mistake you might think, especially if you have no idea of geography, but when there have been a few issues down old Gibraltar way which have led to major delays at the border crossing, then there should be clues in the term "border crossing" and in photographic and video evidence of cars attempting to make this crossing without the aid of a boat which would lead you to appreciate that Gibraltar is not an island.

But putting aside perfectly understandable errors, such as equating being a Gibraltarian to being Spanish, and returning to Higginbotham and the national (sic) Gibraltar football team, what chances would this team ever have of any success? None would be the predictable answer, but if you believe this then you haven't consulted Gibraltar's entry in the "Uncyclopedia". Under the island's, sorry the rock's sport, this tells us that "Gibraltar plans to win the World Cup in 2088". This ambition is disputed because, among other things and according to "Uncyclopedia", "apes can't participate in international football competitions", which may explain why they have cast the net wider and come up with Not The Secret Footballer.

Nevertheless, this plan to become world champions has made me revisit an idea I had had, which was to let Spain play Gibraltar at football, and the winner could get to keep the rock. At present, the result might not bode too well for future British ownership of Gibraltar, but as plans are afoot, then some time in the 2080s, the meeting between Spain and Gibraltar (currently not possible, as UEFA won't let them meet) could be a real old ding-dong, and the result and so the future of Gibraltar could go down to penalties.

Higginbotham would alas not be available for this clash, but he would have a place in Gibraltar's history as the player who set in motion and so made real the possibility of truly securing Gibraltar for the Gibraltarians in perpetuity thanks to a deft penalty kick which sends the Spanish goalie the wrong way.

John Major Avenue, Candeleda, Spain

The Spaniards love British politicians, don't they. Their love is reserved in particular for British prime ministers, and the greatest love of all is for Conservative British prime ministers. My, how much they loved Dave being in Puerto Pollensa last summer. They couldn't get enough of him and of his long-sleeved blue shirt and sensible shoes outside the Club Pollença when the thermometer was nudging a hundred. They lapped up his building of sandcastles on Llenaire beach. Family man Cameron, a prime minister of the people, unlike Spain's cigar-chomping misery guts.

This greatest love of all has soured slightly. Apparently there is some little local difficulty down Gibraltar way, causing some Spaniards to get the hump with Britain and with Dave. "Are you Palmerston in disguise?" they don't shout from the terraces at the Bernabéu. It would be pretty stupid if they were to. Palmerston was a political vacillator. One moment a Tory, the next moment a Liberal. Dave and Cleggy in one body, but more Cleggy than Dave once gunboat diplomacy came to top Lord P's agenda.

Love for Margaret Thatcher could never be true love once the Malvinas became a Spanish issue as well as one for the poor conscripts of the Argentinian army, but this did not prevent Madrid town hall from deciding, some days after her death, to re-name a street after her. Residents were not entirely delighted at the prospect of living in a new street and one, moreover, named after a defender of British rights to Gibraltar. "Gibraltar will always be Spanish," said one of the street's indignants, rather overlooking the fact that it hasn't been for 300 years.

But Ana Botella (Señora Bottle, wife of ex-prime minister Aznar and the lady mayor of Madrid council) stated that Mrs. T had been a great inspiration for her. So Thatcher Street it was going to be, shortly followed by further council initiatives, such as the withdrawal of free school milk, the introduction of a poll tax and a staunch defence of British rights to Gibraltar and the Falklands.

If Thatcher and Cameron have something in common in a pretence that Britain is still something of an imperial power and so manage to get under the skins of Spaniards who have even less reason to suggest that Spain is still a power, then sandwiched between them is John Major, who never knowingly did anything to rile Spanish nationalism and xenophobia. Meek, mild Major. Old maids, cricket on the village green and warm beer. There is nothing offensive about Major, apart from those blue underpants. Which helps to explain why he has scored one over Maggie.

Thatcher, so opponents of Thatcher Street argued (quite reasonably), had no connection whatsoever with Madrid. Major, on the other hand, has a considerable connection with a small town somewhere in the middle of Spain that no one had heard of before its town hall unveiled a new street name on Saturday. And not just a street. A whole bloody avenue. Avenida de John Major.

Candeleda is this town. It is in the region of Castile and León and has a population of something over 5,000 people, one of whom is the former British prime minister when he is in residence there. Candedela is his "second home", he told the various dignitaries and 300 or so locals who had pitched up to witness the handing over of the ornate street sign. Another resident of the town is Tristan Garel-Jones. It was he who introduced John and Norma to Candedela. The Majors have a finca there and have seemingly made a great contribution to the town; hence, John gets his avenue.

In his avenue-naming acceptance speech, Major skirted around the main political topic of the moment. There will always be things that rise above political struggles, he noted, such as Spain's "wonderful beaches and islands", none of which are anywhere near Candeleda. But the town is, he added, "a real jewel", and one which, moreover, has an avenue which marks it down as being forever British.

The Majors have been going to Candeleda for two decades or more. It will be reassuring for all those Brit expats who have spent years studiously avoiding having to learn any Spanish to hear that Major knows not one word of Spanish. Other than "gracias". So there you are. He is a true Hispanophile, an ex-British prime minister who can't even stretch to "dos cervezas, por favor".

What a shame he doesn't have a finca in Majorca. Avenida de John Major Majorca.


Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Joan March And The Gibraltar Smuggling Connection

There are few more controversial figures in Mallorca's history than Joan March. This son of Santa Margalida has been all but officially disavowed by the town; airbrushed from the past. Yet, March's name is to be found close to the town hall building outside a different building - a bank. He founded the Banca March and founded a dynasty that has made his family one of the richest in the world.

March arouses controversy for different reasons. His initial wealth came from smuggling tobacco and from dealing on the black market during the First World War. He was to become closely associated with Franco. He died in what are still questionable circumstances; was the car crash in which he lost his life in 1962 really an accident?

March was well known before he acquired the tag "Franco's banker". His fame or notoriety was such that in the edition of the "ABC" newspaper for 5 November, 1933 there was a full-page report based on an interview with him that had been conducted by journalists in Algeciras. The interview had been done by phone. March was in Gibraltar. He had sought a safe haven because he was on the run, having bribed his way out of prison. His crime? His various illegal dealings; he had been convicted of smuggling, tax fraud and bribery. In the year after "ABC" conducted its interview (March was staying at the Rock Hotel before, with British assistance, going to Paris), a book came out which explored his nefarious activities; it was called "The Last Pirate in the Mediterranean".

March was not unfamiliar with Gibraltar or with parts of Spain near to it. In 1928, he bought a considerable amount of land just up the coast from Gibraltar. It was to become Sotogrande, which is now the largest privately owned residential development in Andalusia and summer residence for some of Spain's richest and most powerful families. At the time, it was an area that required cultivation and development. March entrusted this development to farming families from Campos and Ses Salines. Raimundo Burguera was from one of these families. He became March's right-hand man and was one of those who helped him to escape from prison.

The story of these Mallorcan families is told in a recently published book by the professors Margalida Juan Taberner and Honorat Bauçà Roig. Its title is "El Tesorillo, the Mallorcans in the footsteps of March"; El Tesorillo was the name of the land and there is now what is known as an autonomous local entity - San Martin del Tesorillo - not far from Sotogrande. The book is full of murder, intrigue and betrayal, but a couple of questions arise from this story. One is why did March ship a load of Mallorcans over to what was inhospitable land in Andalusia, and the second, more crucially, was why did he acquire the land in the first place.

The answer to the first question lies partly in the vastly greater agricultural skills of Mallorcan farmers but also in the emphasis that March placed on loyalty. He thus displayed a trait that is key to understanding current-day Mallorca. There is a premium on loyalty, which may be no bad thing, but it can lead to things that aren't so good, such as nepotism, corruption or, back in March's day, rather worse. As to why he bought the land, a reason was so that there was a base for doing business with northern Africa and with Gibraltar. Not all of this business was dodgy, but a good deal of it was. The farms that were created at El Tesorillo were the cover for smuggling that continued after the Civil War and which was conducted with March's express wish. Burguera was crucial in all this as he spoke French, which was of course widely spoken in northern Africa.

The extent to which Gibraltar actually figured in this smuggling is probably open to guesswork, but Burguera, who was married to a Panamanian woman, was, astonishingly enough, made Panama's consul in Lisbon. This gave him diplomatic immunity. He could go, more or less, where he wanted to. Or where March wanted him to go.

At a time when the current arguments about Gibraltar raise issues to do with smuggling and loss of tax revenues for the Spanish Government, it is perhaps worth recalling that tobacco smuggling has gone on for centuries and that one of the biggest smugglers of all had a perfect base just along the coast from Gibraltar: Joan March, the banker who was given refuge by the British in Gibraltar, the banker who helped fund Franco and who did so with the ill-gotten gains of smuggling from the southern tip of Spain.


Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Between A Rock And Another Rock

The book of diversionary international political tactics, author L. Galtieri, with contributions by M. Thatcher and C. Fernández de Kirchner, 2013 revision by M. Rajoy and J. M. García-Margallo, available now. What the critics have to say:

"While stopping short of the use of war as proposed in the original, Rajoy and García-Margallo present a coherent argument for raising nationalist support for a faltering government with a nationalist agenda and for minimising the scrutiny of one of the author's previously suspicious financial affairs by targeting a disputed territory and going beyond historical claims by highlighting potential tax and financial irregularities that centre on this disputed territory. One of the co-authors, now a minister for foreign affairs, displays his deep knowledge of fiscal matters in such disputes. He attended the international tax programme at Harvard Law School and was a former head of studies at the Spanish Hacienda ministry and so has all the credentials required for understanding issues facing his fellow author and those pertaining to allegedly piratical behaviours in said disputed territory."

"A miserable exercise in sabre-rattling by a corrupt and incompetent regime."

"A flawed analysis which takes no account of Moroccan claims on the cities of Ceuta and Melilla or of either further Moroccan claims on the Peñón de Vélez de la Gomera, which is connected to the Moroccan coast by an isthmus that is a mere 85 metres long, or of Portuguese claims on the territory of Olivenza between Portugal and Spain in the region of Extremadura which was ceded to Spain under the Treaty of Badajoz in 1801."

Gibraltar is a nonsense. Look where it is. What on earth is it doing being a British overseas territory? It makes no sense but it makes perfect sense, strategically and militarily, and history decrees that it is British. And, where British national pride is concerned, it is a small something to show for the old empire: some half-decent real estate.

Empires have a lot to do with Gibraltar. Neither Britain nor Spain has ever come to terms with the fact that each of them lost an empire, but what gets up the noses of the Spanish is that they lost theirs that much earlier and were forced to endure British dominance while they were slipping further and further into decline before suffering the final great humiliations of 1898 and the losses to the new Anglo-Saxon empire of the United States.

Gibraltar is the feeble battleground of old empires. Britain and Spain are trapped for an eternity within the straitjackets of the rock's straits, their history and the ghosts of imperial days. There Gibraltar is, stuck onto Europe's backside, an irritant boil that neither can lance but one upon which the rest of Europe looks and wonders why some soothing salve cannot be applied so that everyone can get on and pay attention to rather more important matters. Indeed, Europe may well wonder what in God's name the Spanish are doing, messing around with Gibraltar in an apparent act of ingratitude.

Franco chose to close the border with Gibraltar in 1969, having been asserting Spanish sovereignty for years, a good old nationalist ploy not that far removed from the current actions led by Spain's José Manuel García-Margallo. History has a habit of repeating itself, as does ingratitude. Franco's Spain chose to stick two fingers up to British (and European) investment and tourism. Rajoy's Spain is doing something not dissimilar.

But then this is not a Spanish view. It is revealing to read the thousands of comments posted on the internet under Spanish newspaper articles about García-Margallo's get-tough stance. To take but one - "the English are a cancer". This appeared under an article on the "El País" website and so was not one from a newspaper of the rabid and nationalist right. Gibraltar reveals just how much xenophobia exists in Spain and how much of it is directed at the British. 

After 300 years, Spain still wants Gibraltar back. It cannot let go, just as the British cannot let go. But Spain also can't let go of Ceuta and Melilla. Why should it, when people there are happy to remain Spanish? Melilla was conquered, Ceuta was ceded to Spain by Portugal. Spain maintains that both have always been Spanish, which is a version of history to suit the situations. The other rock, the Peñón de Vélez, became Spanish when Portugal was once absorbed into the Spanish crown. And what about Olivenza, because this territory was part of Portugal. It is also a territory about which very little mention is made in Spain. Why would that be, do you suppose?


Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Between A Rock And A Hard Man

Gibraltar is to become the latest member of the UEFA family. Where next? The Isle of Man? The Isle of Wight? It has taken a decision by the Court of Arbitration for Sport to oblige UEFA to admit Gibraltar, but on what grounds? As a British overseas territory, it isn't really a country, so what will it be doing entering a competition that is supposedly for European nations? But then, Gibraltar's status is a bit odd. It is part of the European Union, so on this basis, there probably are legitimate grounds for its admission to UEFA. If the rock is good enough for Brussels, it must be good enough for Nyon, as in Nyon, Switzerland, where UEFA has its HQ. And as Andorra, San Marino and the Faroe Islands are all a bit iffy in UEFA nationality terms, then why not extend this iffiness to Gib. In fact, the comparison with the Faroes is probably the best grounds for UEFA admission, as the Faroes are selg-governing, like Gibraltar, but also an overseas territory, one that is under Danish sovereignty.

These other iffy members of UEFA haven't, though, faced the same sort of opposition as Gibraltar has. And its main opposition is known as Spain, who in 2007 threatened to take all Spanish teams out of European competitions if Gibraltar was given membership. This opposition was not solely because of the obvious - Spain's claims to the rock - but also because of a Spanish fear that Gibraltar's admission would mean that there would be claims for UEFA membership from Catalonia and the Basques.

This fear has always sounded somewhat unfounded. There are "national" teams for all the regions of Spain, including the Balearics, who have only ever played one "international" (losing to Malta), but none are affiliated to UEFA or indeed FIFA because they are all represented by the Spanish FA. Having said this, there is of course another iffy arrangement that is sanctioned by UEFA and FIFA, and that is the one which concerns England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. Catalonia could argue, one supposes, that it if the Welsh can have a national side, despite not being a separate nation, then why can't it? Of course, Catalonia may try and resolve the matter of its football team by declaring itself independent, a move that would throw not only Spain and the European Union but more importantly UEFA into a turmoil of knowing what to do. And if UEFA can be made by the Court of Arbitration to bring Gibraltar into the fold, then it would have no choice but to let Catalonia in.

Even without having declared itself a separate nation, the idea of Catalonia having its own team in European competitions is a delicious one. Firstly, it might reduce Spain's dominance, but secondly, and far more deliciously, would be the prospect of Spain playing Catalonia. They already do in one way, and that is El Clasico, Real Madrid versus Barcelona, but a match-up between Spain and a separatist Catalonia in a European nations tournament ... ?

The contentious issues to do with sovereignty claims and so the possibility of teams playing each other are dealt with by UEFA ensuring, in the case of Spain and Gibraltar, that they cannot be paired in a qualifying round. Given that there would be absolutely no chance of Gibraltar ever advancing beyond the qualifiers, then the worry that they might have to play each other is non-existent. UEFA also skirt round a contentious issue of a different sort - that of the poor relations between Armenia and Azerbaijan. They are always kept apart, and it might be worth noting, for those who believe that minor entrants to European competitions should have their own pre-qualifying tournament, that it would be that much more difficult to ensure that Armenia and Azerbaijan never came up against each other.

But back to Gibraltar and its membership of UEFA, we can now doubtless look forward to a team with its back story similar to that of San Marino. Plucky bricklayers, accountants and waiters take on the might of Italy or even England. And lose horribly.

I'm not one of those who decries the presence of no-hoper, smaller teams in the European championship, but I accept that they add to the unwieldy nature of qualifying groups. These teams are so outclassed that all they can really hope for is to make life difficult for their betters by parking the bus and filling it with hard men who rattle the effete superstars of European football. Or in Gibraltar's case, perhaps they could scout for a likely Barbary Ape or two.


Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.