In the picture
Rally in the parade ground of the Royal Walls of Ceuta, in September 2026 [Xemenendura]
Introduction
Few relationships have shaped the history of Spain as much as the one linking the Iberian Peninsula to the southern shore of the Mediterranean. From the establishment of the first North African outposts of Spanish sovereignty in the early modern era to the withdrawal from the Sahara in 1975, North Africa has been for our country a border, a theater of war, a sphere of influence, and, at the same time, source a source of recurring security concerns. None of this belongs entirely to the past; the return of geopolitics has brought this relationship back into sharp focus. The Strait remains one of the world’s major strategic crossroads and Spain’s greatest geopolitical asset. For their part, Ceuta and Melilla constitute the European Union’s only borders with Africa, a status that, in and of itself, holds geopolitical value for Spain and for Europe.
In a world where force is once again a common tool for defending national interests, where straits have become weapons for achieving political objectives, and where our allies are looking almost exclusively to the east, Spain is forced to rethink its security by turning its attention southward with renewed intensity, revisiting concerns it thought it had left behind.
This issue of Spain’s relations with our North African neighbors, particularly Morocco, must be addressed from various perspectives in order to draw conclusions that will help define the foundations of Spain’s security and defense architecture in relation to its North African neighbors. The aim is to analyze as core topic y aspects as: the balance of power between Spain, Morocco, and Algeria; the limitations of our defense architecture; the strategic value of the Strait of Gibraltar; the revisionist nature of the Moroccan state and its rearmament; and energy as an area of cooperation and influence.
A head start
When analyzing Spain’s relationship with North Africa, it’s best to start by setting the record straight—and nothing does that better than the data. In terms of wealth, influence, and military power, Spain is richer and stronger than its southern neighbors, although this is not as true in demographic terms: with some 49 million inhabitants, it surpasses Morocco, which has around 38 million, but only barely exceeds Algeria, which has around 47 million. Any comparative analysis must therefore start from one premise: a priori, our status is one of advantage. Spain is approximately ten times richer than Morocco in terms of nominal gross domestic product and seven times richer than Algeria.
And, according to the data of the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI) research , in 2025 Spain spent approximately $40.2 billion on defense, compared to $25.5 billion for Algeria and less than $7 billion for Morocco; that is, nearly six times Morocco’s expense and just over one and average times Algeria’s. Although these differences may be qualified in terms of purchasing power, this does not prevent us from affirming that we possess potential capabilities—those that our status as a state allows us to mobilize—which place us, from the outset, in an advantageous position to address relations with our North African neighbors.
The South: An Existential Priority
The second point worth emphasizing is that, from a security standpoint, our priorities lie—as dictated by geography—in the south. We maintain a significant contingent of troops deployed in Eastern Europe because we stand in solidarity with our European allies and neighbors, but Spain’s existential concerns—those for which a country is willing, if necessary, to even go to war—lie on the other side of the Strait. But we cannot forget that we support our partners not only out of solidarity but also out of reciprocity. This means that, should problems ever arise in the south, we assume they will come to our financial aid, just as we are prepared to do today on Europe’s eastern flank. However, the current uncertainty surrounding allied security guarantees calls this premise—which is critical for Spain—into question, and we have many doubts as to whether, when the time comes, we could count on strong and effective “ partnership ” from our European and transatlantic partners in the event of a crisis in North Africa.
This leads us to analyze how our defense is structured. On the one hand, we have collective responsibilities within the organizations of which we are members—the North Atlantic Treaty Organization and the European Union—but we also have strictly national responsibilities. The defense of our territories in North Africa is not covered by the NATO umbrella; its Treaty, in Article article 6, excludes Ceuta and Melilla from the scope of collective defense, meaning that we must ensure their defense independently. It does, however, fall within the purview of the European Union, whose scope extends to the entire territory of the Member States by virtue of the mutual “ attendance ” clause in Article 42.7 article of the Treaty on European Union; but the Union has few military capabilities of its own, and it will be difficult to achieve the unanimity among the 27 member states required by the Treaty for this “ financial aid ” to materialize beyond symbolic declarations.
Javier Colomina, NATO’s Special Representative for the Southern Neighborhood under the “ University Secretary ,” recently stated that NATO would support Spain if any problems arose. He made these remarks on September 17, 2026, at the “Dialogues for Security” forum in Madrid, shortly after the mass influxes into Ceuta, stating that he had no doubt NATO would respond if Spain invoked Article article 5 over an incident in Ceuta or Melilla, and that “politically, the Alliance would respond if necessary.”
Things, however, are not that simple. We would have to activate the consultation “ procedure ” provided for in Article article 4 of the Washington Treaty, and if all thirty-two allies were agreement, we might receive their support. But there is serious doubt as to whether we could count on the solidarity of all of them, especially at a time when the concerns of most are focused almost exclusively on Eastern Europe. The reality is that, in the absence of certainty regarding allied or European solidarity, Spain must prepare to resolve any security crisis that arises in North Africa on its own and satisfactorily.
The Limitations of Our Capabilities
Spain possesses considerable soft power—a prime test example of which was the support our national team, which ultimately won the championship, received in so many corners of the world during the last World Cup—as well as economic power that is by no means insignificant. But it also needs military power commensurate with its status as a average power with global interests, because in this geopolitical world where geography has returned to take center stage, states are increasingly defending their interests with the resource to force. And this is where we must realize that it is no longer possible—as Josep Borrell, the former High Representative of the European Union for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy, stated—to behave like a herbivore in a world of carnivores.
This brings us to the question of our military power. This power is based on our military capabilities, which are very limited because their design stems from an era of “peace dividends” that no longer exists. Over the past decades, military instruments seemed unnecessary because the very architecture of the international system was sufficient to guarantee the security of the national territory; consequently, Spain, like most of its European partners, decided to disarm, prioritizing “butter over guns.” Today, this is no longer possible.
A significant portion of our available capabilities is also tied up on the eastern flank. This is a scenario in which the reality of the war in Ukraine lays bare our shortcomings. In the war in Ukraine, the Russian army suffers approximately 1,000 casualties each day—including both dead and wounded, according to Ukrainian estimates—which is equivalent to one battalion per day; Spain has a very limited battalion- issue , indicating our inability to sustain an industrial-scale war over an extended period of time. Furthermore, since we once abandoned a mobilizable reservation worthy of the name, those same forces must handle everything—from deployments to various locations around the world where we have committed forces, to the capabilities necessary to ensure the security of our national territory.
The Strait of Gibraltar, a Geopolitical Asset
Turning now to the African issue, the first thing that must be said is that Spain is situated on one of the most important straits on the planet. Straits are bottlenecks—known as “chokepoints” in English—that have taken on paramount importance in global geopolitics, as we are seeing in the war in Iran, where everything revolves around the Straits of Hormuz and Bab el-Mandeb. In the case of Gibraltar, Spain is the only state present on both sides, and a significant portion of the traffic traveling from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean—or in the opposite direction—passes through waters under Spanish sovereignty. This does not grant us the right or the authority to block passage, as the Iranians and Houthis have attempted to do, or as Turkey can do with the warships of belligerent countries, under the protection of the Montreux Convention, in the Bosporus and the Dardanelles. What we do have is the capacity to guarantee freedom of navigation through the Strait of Gibraltar, and that, in global geopolitics, constitutes in and of itself a major asset. Spain must assert this consideration as a substantial contribution to international security, at a time when some major powers are beginning to express interest in having two powers—Spain and Morocco—share control of the Strait of Gibraltar, rather than just one.
The defense of both coasts is a national responsibility that belongs solely and exclusively to Spain. If, for any reason, we were to lose the autonomous cities in North Africa, we would lose that capability along with them, and—in addition to the territory—we would see our position in global geopolitics significantly weakened.
Disputes with Morocco
The next issue I would like to address is our relations with our southern neighbor. We have differences with Morocco that have geopolitical implications, which are primarily concentrated in four areas. The first concerns the territories under Spanish sovereignty in North Africa: the cities of Ceuta and Melilla, the islands, and the rocky outcrops, which our neighbor claims. The second is the delimitation of maritime zones—disputes that currently remain in a sort of limbo but will resurface as rare earths and critical materials gain value, as is the case with the waters surrounding the Canary Islands. The third is the issue of Western Sahara, and the fourth is the management of migration flows.
In short, this is a large number of disputes that complicate bilateral relations but that we must manage together if we wish to avoid confrontation, by seeking solutions that are mutually beneficial and, at the same time, address our security concerns, so that our national interests are safeguarded.
Morocco, a Revisionist Power
Most of these problems stem from the expansionist nature of the Moroccan state. From the very moment Morocco gained independence in 1956, it began to express its dissatisfaction with borders it did not consider consistent with its national aspirations. It thus became a revisionist power, dissatisfied with the legal status accorded to it by the international order.
This revisionist ambition, embodied in the vision of a “Greater Morocco” articulated by Allal el Fasi—founder of the Moroccan Istiqlal Nationalist Party—and adopted as a fundament statement of core values of the Alawite monarchy, puts Morocco in direct conflict with its neighbors, starting with Spain, but also with Algeria, from which it claims territories, and even with other smaller neighbors such as Mali or Mauritania—a country that has been independent since 1960 but which Rabat did not recognize until 1969. The epicenter of this geopolitical confrontation over territorial control lies in Western Sahara, a territory that, in ac agreement ance with United Nations doctrine, should have completed its decolonization process decades ago.
It can therefore be said that Morocco is a state that, from the very moment of its independence, has had embedded in its DNA the aspiration to achieve borders that do not rightfully belong to it. This territorial aspiration is based on a myth rather than on historical, legal, or political reality. The danger of myths is that, as we have seen in the Balkans with “Greater Serbia” or “Greater Croatia,” they often lead to confrontation. “Great” countries seek to expand at the expense of their neighbors, relying on a historical mythology that rarely stands up to scientific scrutiny.
Morocco draws on the myth of the Almoravids, an empire that stretched from the banks of the Senegal River to the Iberian Peninsula. It chooses this myth and not another—such as the Almohad or Benimerín, whose territorial configurations were different—simply because it is the one that best suits its purposes. The equivalent would be for Spain to now revive the memory of Roman Hispania to lay claim to the North African territories that once depended on it, arguing that someone had “snatched” them away.
Western Sahara: Law Versus Reality
One of the key elements of that myth is Western Sahara, the link that allows Morocco to assert, through de facto control, a claim to a territory that the international community did not recognize at the time of its independence.
From the perspective of international law, the issue was settled half a century ago by the International Court of Justice in The Hague, to which the United Nations General Assembly—at the request of the Alawite Kingdom itself—sought an advisory opinion in December 1974. On October 16, 1975, the Court issued an advisory opinion addressing two questions and shedding much light on the status.
The first was whether, at the time of the Spaniards’ arrival, Western Sahara was a no man’s land, as if it were the Moon or Mars; the answer was no, since the territory was inhabited by organized populations. The second question concerned the legal ties between the territory and the Kingdom of Morocco. The Court recognized the existence of certain ties of allegiance between the sultan and some of the tribes in the territory, as well as certain rights to the land, the latter relating to the so-called Mauritanian complex.
Morocco, however, tends to omit the decisive passage of the opinion, which categorically states that there was no territorial sovereignty link between Western Sahara and Morocco and that, therefore, nothing prevents the application to the territory of the decolonization process provided for in the San Francisco Charter and General Assembly Resolution 1514, through the self-determination of its population. That is, in essence, what international law states, and Spain’s security, defense, and cooperation policy toward North Africa has been based on this principle for nearly fifty years.
So much for the law; the geopolitical reality, however, is beginning to tell a different story. In December 2020, Morocco joined the Abraham Accords and thereby gained three advantages that the law had not granted it. The first was a decisive advance in its position on the Sahara within the United Nations, which has led to a more favorable shift in Security committee resolutions; the most recent, Resolution 2797, passed in October of last year, went so far as to accept Morocco’s “ proposal ” of autonomy as the basis for deciding the territory’s future. From a political standpoint, this is an achievement of enormous significance for Moroccan interests.
The second international achievement was the support of the United States. U.S. policy, which during the Baker Plan era had remained faithful to international law, took a radical turn under Donald Trump, who in December 2020 recognized Moroccan sovereignty over the Sahara—a decision that the Biden administration did not reverse and that Trump himself reaffirmed upon his return to the White House.
Morocco's Rearmament and the Credibility of Deterrence
The third issue—one that concerns us as well as our neighbor Algeria—is the gradual remilitarization of the Moroccan state, underpinned by significant military cooperation agreements with Israel and the United States. The fact that a neighbor whose intentions regarding our territories are well known is arming itself is a cause for concern for our security. We cannot claim ignorance or remain indifferent when a country that aspires to occupy Spanish territories is rearming on a massive scale, no matter how weak it may be politically or economically.
Spain’s security guarantees regarding those territories have relied, essentially, on deterrence. And deterrence, in turn, relies on credibility: the neighbor we seek to deter must be convinced that, if it uses force to achieve a political goal , the response—in this case, ours—will be forceful. If deterrence is lost, the very principle upon which the state’s security rests is lost with it. And Morocco, since the Abraham Accords, has been rearming at a very B rate with American and Israeli equipment, thereby leveling the asymmetry in military capabilities that it had traditionally maintained with Spain.
Of particular concern is the possibility that it might acquire capabilities that we lack. Rabat has acquired eighteen HIMARS rocket launchers, the sale of which was authorized by Washington in April 2023 for approximately $524 million and which it will begin receiving shortly, while our Army, which has its own rocket launcher program underway, does not yet have an equivalent system in service. It also has a fleet of armed drones—including the Bayraktar TB2 and Wing Loong, among others—that far exceeds our four MQ-9 Predator Bs, for which the government did not approve the purchase of Hellfire missiles until 2023.
It has also been granted access—without our involvement—to the North Atlantic Treaty Organization’s own link and data systems; thus, in February 2026, it tested Link 16 with the United States—for which it had already ordered terminals in 2022—and in April of that same year, both countries signed a defense cooperation roadmap extending through 2036. This allows Morocco to exchange tactical information in real time with U.S. forces under conditions similar to those of an ally. This is a major advantage that, once realized, will transform Morocco into a power capable of challenging Spain militarily.
It is also concerning that countries from outside the region—as complex and conflict-ridden as Israel—are making an appearance at the Strait’s “ entrance .” From a security standpoint, Spain has no interest in Israel becoming an arms “ provider ” for a potentially hostile neighbor, nor does it have any interest in an escalation of the arms “ degree program ” between two countries—Morocco and Algeria—that are vying for regional supremacy in North Africa. From Spain’s perspective, cooperation—not confrontation—must be the foundation of any reasonable security policy in the Maghreb, a region that acts as a conduit between both sides of the Strait and as a barrier against problems originating in the Sahel. In Spain’s security strategy, the goal is a stable, peaceful, and cooperative region that contributes to strengthening our own security, rather than the opposite.
We cannot ignore the fact that the arms degree program between Morocco and Algeria could one day turn against us, and that is why it concerns us. If potentially hostile countries arm themselves, Spain will have to do the same—to the extent necessary and at the appropriate pace—to maintain the necessary deterrent, regardless of the “ expense ” commitments established by NATO; whether these are the 2.1% that Spain considers sufficient or the 5% of GDP agreed upon by the allies at the 2025 Hague summit.
Mass migration as a form of hybrid war tool
Mass migration is not in itself a hybrid threat; rather, it is the exploitation of migration for political purposes that constitutes a hybrid threat—one that NATO places on the same level as disinformation, cyber operations, and energy and economic coercion. Today, this exploitation has become the primary link between migration and security: the flow of migrants ceases to be a social phenomenon and becomes an instrument “coercively designed” by one state to pressure another. This is reflected in NATO’s Madrid Strategic Concept (2022) and Spain’s 2021 National Security Strategy, which treat it as a hybrid threat and cite Belarus and Ceuta in 2021 as examples.
Instrumentalization fits almost perfectly into the logic of the hybrid war that Morocco is waging against Spain for four reasons. First, it operates below the threshold of Article article 5 of the Washington Treaty: pushing thousands of people toward a border is not an armed attack, but it erodes sovereignty and territorial control. Second, it fosters ambiguity and plausible deniability, as the aggressor can present the phenomenon as spontaneous or humanitarian. Third, it turns democratic values into vulnerabilities: asylum, non-refoulement, and judicial and media scrutiny place Spain—as the state under attack—in a dilemma, since if it closes the border, it violates its own rules, and if it opens it, it yields to blackmail and encourages its repetition. Fourth, it pursues political effects: polarizing public opinion, fueling populism, straining solidarity among allies, and eroding trust in the government—usually in combination with disinformation campaigns that shift the blame onto the victim. The great advantage of the “ employment ” of hybrid warfare for Morocco is its low cost relative to a potentially high return, making it the ideal weapon for a weaker Morocco to compensate for its asymmetry of national power vis-à-vis a stronger state like Spain.
Morocco has thus become the paradigmatic example of the “ employment ” of this strategy. This is not a new phenomenon. As early as November 1975, Hassan II launched the Green March, which mobilized some 350,000 Moroccan civilians. At minimal cost, Rabat reaped enormous political rewards: the occupation of Western Sahara, a territory over which the International Court of Justice had just ruled, in its October 1975 opinion, that Morocco had no claim to sovereignty. It was a hybrid “ guide ” operation: demographic pressure, a peaceful facade, and a fait accompli.
The same logic resurfaced in Ceuta in May 2021—officially recognized as the exploitation of migration—and reached its peak during the crisis of July 2026, when some 72,000 people, according to the government, entered the city irregularly between July 30 and 31—the most serious episode of mass migration recorded to date at a European border. These events, combined with Russian influence in the Sahel and North Africa, reinforce Spain’s conviction that our southern neighbor is using migratory pressure as leverage to achieve political objectives. Spain thus finds itself in a unique position: it serves as the EU’s external border, exposed to pressure being exploited in Ceuta and Melilla, while at the same time maintaining a domestic migration policy that runs counter to that of its European partners.
Beyond state coercion aimed at offsetting the asymmetry of capabilities, the scale of these flows multiplies other risks to Spanish security: it fosters human trafficking and smuggling networks linked to organized crime; it hinders integration and fuels parallel societies prone to radicalization, as illustrated by the case of Sweden; and it facilitates the “ entrance ” of terrorists hiding among the mass influx, as demonstrated by the attacks in Paris (2015), Berlin (2016), and Solingen (2024). The decisive factor is not so much the “ Issue ” as it is the speed: the sheer volume overwhelms identification, asylum, and return mechanisms and reduces the state’s capacity to respond.
Energy, Cooperation, and Influence
However, not everything is a matter of confrontation: there are also areas of cooperation, the most obvious of which is the economic sphere—and, in particular, the energy sector. One of the neighboring countries that Spain must treat with special care is Algeria, as it is a critical strategic partner due to its status as a leading energy provider : in 2025, Algeria supplied 34.5% of the natural gas that reached Spain—that is, one-third of the total.
At a time when access to energy sources has become increasingly difficult—with the straits closed and Russian gas, which still accounted for around 10% of our imports in 2025, set to disappear from our supply in 2027 following a decision by the European Union—we cannot afford to do without Algeria. It is a natural “ provider ” since it is a country right across from us, just a short distance away, and one that supplies us with gas at a very competitive price thanks to a pipeline—the MEDGAZ—that directly connects Algeria with Spain, which drastically lowers the price and guarantees a stable supply. It is a privileged relationship that we must preserve by considering it strategic. If we were to lose it and Algeria were to shut down MEDGAZ—the other Maghreb-Europe gas pipeline that ran through Morocco ceased operations on October 31, 202—we would have to seek that gas on international markets where, with the Russian market Closed and the war in Iran at plenary session of the Executive Council its peak, it would be difficult to find it today.
With Morocco, in the energy sector, the exact opposite is true, since we are the ones supplying it with gas and electricity, and that is a factor that must be taken into account in our relations. Morocco lacks regasification terminals—although it is planning one in Nador—and a developed natural gas system, and its own production is very limited. The Maghreb-Europe gas pipeline, which transported Algerian gas through Moroccan territory until it crossed the Strait, was left un Closed d following a decision by Algiers, and in June 2022, Spain and Morocco reversed its flow. Today, it is Spain that sends gas to Morocco: the liquefied natural gas that Rabat purchases on international markets is regasified at our plants and delivered via the pipeline, meaning that virtually all the gas Morocco imports passes through our country.
We are also interconnected with Morocco in the electricity sector, and there is ample room to strengthen those connections. If Morocco aspires to become an energy powerhouse in the future thanks to renewable energy, it will necessarily have to do so through Spain. And that is a geopolitical factor whose importance goes beyond the economic aspects that should be brought to the table when defining the “ framework ” of our future relations with our southern neighbor.
Conclusions
The first conclusion is that Spain, on the face of it, has a status advantage. Its wealth is ten times that of Morocco, and its defense expense far exceeds that of its two major Maghreb neighbors. But a potential advantage does not automatically translate into a guarantee of security: it only becomes one when accompanied by political will and military capabilities adapted to the real risks, which, for Spain, are currently found mainly in the south.
The second is that, in the south, Spain is essentially on its own. Ceuta and Melilla fall outside the collective defense provisions of Article article 5 of the Washington Treaty; the European Union lacks sufficient military capabilities to enforce its mutual attendance clause; and the solidarity of allies focused on Eastern Europe is, to say the least, uncertain. The defense of our North African cities is, therefore, a national responsibility that cannot be delegated and that Spain will most likely have to face on its own.
The third is that Spain’s presence on both sides of the Strait constitutes a geopolitical asset of the highest order. In a world where straits have become instruments of pressure, the ability to guarantee freedom of navigation between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean gives Spain a level of influence that would vanish—along with much of its strategic importance—if it were to lose Ceuta and Melilla.
The fourth is that Morocco behaves like a revisionist power, driven by the myth of “Greater Morocco,” and that the gap between law and reality works in its favor. While the 1975 ruling of the International Court of Justice continues to deny any claim of sovereignty over Western Sahara, the Abraham Accords, U.S. recognition, and Security committee t Resolution 2797 have consolidated Morocco’s position through a fait accompli.
The fifth point is that Morocco’s military buildup, supported by the United States and Israel, erodes the credibility of our deterrent. The fact that Rabat possesses long-range rocket launchers, a fleet of armed drones that surpasses our own, and access to allied data links compels Spain to strengthen its capabilities based on its own criteria, according to its needs and not according to the expense percentages negotiated within NATO.
The sixth is Morocco’s exploitation of mass migration, which has established itself as one of the most effective forms of hybrid warfare, precisely because it exploits the gray area between peace and war, relies on plausible deniability, and turns democratic values into vulnerabilities. From the Green March of 1975 to the Ceuta crises of 2021 and 2026, Morocco has demonstrated its ability to use demographic pressure as a foreign policy tool at very low cost and with high returns. Spain must stop treating these episodes as mere humanitarian or border management crises and recognize them for what they are: acts of state coercion, against which only a combination of credible deterrence, effective border control, social resilience, and genuine European solidarity can restore the balance.
The seventh and final point is that the energy sector offers Spain opportunities that it must not let slip by. Algeria is a strategic “ partner ” with whom we should maintain a privileged relationship, because a considerable portion of our gas supply depends on it. Morocco, for its part, depends on Spain for its gas supply and will depend on Spain to find markets for its future renewable energy potential, which constitutes a major bargaining chip.
At final, Spain’s relationship with its southern neighbors requires a balance of cooperation and firmness. We must manage disputes with our neighbors—and especially with Morocco—through dialogue and by defending our national interests, without forgetting that, in a world where geopolitics has returned and disputes between states are often settled by force, respect is only accorded to those who are in a position to command it.
* Ignacio source Cobo is a retired colonel in the Army and an associate analyst at the Spanish Institute of Strategic programs of study (IEEE), where he served as a senior analyst for twelve years. This text is based on a presentation given at the “ roundtable : Security in the Maghreb: Spain-Morocco Relations,” which took place at the University of Navarra in Pamplona on September 22, 2026.