By: Fern Sidman

Spain is, by history and temperament, a great European nation. Its civilizational inheritance spans Roman jurisprudence, medieval theology, Renaissance humanism, imperial exploration, and modern democratic rebirth. It is a country of intellectual vigor, entrepreneurial energy, artistic genius, and deep cultural pride. Yet greatness in history does not immunize a nation from drift in the present. And under Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez, Spain is drifting — strategically, morally, and politically — away from the Western consensus that has preserved peace and prosperity for nearly eight decades.

The issue at stake is not partisanship. It is not even ideology in the abstract. It is whether Spain will continue to anchor itself within the transatlantic security architecture that guarantees its freedom, or whether it will persist in a posture that combines defense minimalism, diplomatic equivocation, and rhetorical hostility toward democratic allies — most notably the United States and Israel.

The NATO question is emblematic. At the most recent alliance summit, the United States and several frontline European states pressed for increased defense spending in light of an increasingly volatile security environment. Russia remains aggressive. Iran is destabilizing. China is expanding. In this context, Washington’s call for European allies to shoulder greater responsibility is neither radical nor unreasonable. It is arithmetic.

Spain’s response, however, was tepid at best and obstructionist at worst. While other nations signaled willingness to move toward significantly higher defense commitments, Sánchez insisted on limiting Spain’s expenditure to approximately 2.1% of GDP — already controversial in light of alliance expectations. The Prime Minister openly suggested that a more robust defense posture would endanger Spain’s domestic welfare architecture. That admission was remarkable not because it was surprising, but because it made explicit what many European governments prefer to imply: that American military predominance subsidizes European social policy.

This asymmetry is politically corrosive. The United States maintains a global force posture that secures sea lanes, deters adversaries, and underwrites NATO’s collective defense. American naval and air assets operating from European bases — including Spanish territory — form part of that shield. When Spain benefits from that protection while resisting proportional burden-sharing, it fuels transatlantic resentment and undermines alliance cohesion.

But defense spending is only one facet of the concern. The more troubling dimension is Spain’s rhetorical and diplomatic positioning in moments of acute moral clarity — particularly following the October 7, 2023 Hamas massacre in southern Israel.

On that day, Hamas, an internationally recognized terrorist organization backed and financed by Iran, launched the deadliest assault on Jews since the Holocaust. Approximately 1,200 Israelis and foreign nationals were murdered in scenes of unspeakable brutality. More than 250 hostages were abducted. Entire communities were devastated.

In the immediate aftermath, Western leaders faced a test: to articulate unambiguous solidarity with a democratic ally targeted in a pogrom-like assault. Many did so clearly and without qualification. Spain’s government response, by contrast, was frequently perceived as equivocal, disproportionately critical of Israel’s subsequent military campaign, and diplomatically distant from Jerusalem.

Spain moved swiftly to recognize Palestinian statehood amid ongoing hostilities, a decision framed domestically as moral leadership but widely interpreted by Israeli officials and many Jewish communities as tone-deaf at best and strategically destabilizing at worst. Recognition of statehood in the wake of a mass-casualty terrorist attack risks signaling that violence accelerates diplomatic reward — a precedent fraught with peril.

More disconcerting has been the domestic climate in Spain since October 7. According to reports from Jewish community organizations and European monitoring bodies, antisemitic incidents in Spain increased sharply in the months following the Hamas massacre. Jewish institutions required heightened security. Synagogues reported harassment. Social media platforms in Spain saw surges of antisemitic rhetoric, including conspiracy narratives that blurred into classical tropes of collective Jewish culpability.

Graffiti equating Zionism with Nazism appeared in several urban centers. Demonstrations in Madrid and Barcelona occasionally featured chants and placards that crossed from policy criticism into ethnic hostility. Jewish students reported discomfort on certain university campuses. While the Spanish government publicly condemned antisemitism in general terms, critics argue that its sharply adversarial tone toward Israeli policy has contributed to an atmosphere in which anti-Zionism can too easily metastasize into antisemitism.

It is crucial to draw distinctions. Criticism of Israeli government policy is legitimate in democratic discourse. But when political rhetoric systematically isolates Israel as uniquely malevolent, while downplaying or contextualizing the barbarity of Hamas, it distorts moral proportionality. Spain’s leadership has too often appeared more animated in its denunciations of Israeli military actions than in its condemnation of the terrorist atrocity that precipitated them.

Such asymmetry carries consequences. European history has demonstrated, repeatedly and tragically, that antisemitism thrives in climates where Jews are portrayed as collective agents of global injustice. In the wake of October 7, European governments had a responsibility not only to condemn hatred but to ensure that their own diplomatic language did not inadvertently validate narratives that dehumanize the Jewish state or its citizens.

Beyond Israel, Sánchez’s foreign policy orientation has also raised concerns about strategic alignment. Spain has sought closer economic engagement with China at a time when Beijing is deepening military cooperation with authoritarian regimes and expanding its geopolitical footprint. Engagement is not inherently problematic; interdependence can be stabilizing. But engagement without strategic caution risks complicating alliance solidarity.

Similarly, Spain’s historical posture toward Venezuela under Nicolás Maduro has drawn scrutiny. For years, European responses to Maduro’s authoritarian consolidation oscillated between condemnation and accommodation. While Madrid has formally recognized democratic opposition figures at times, critics argue that Spain’s broader approach lacked the clarity and firmness necessary to confront a regime that dismantled democratic institutions and precipitated one of the largest migration crises in modern history.

Domestically, Sánchez governs through a fragile coalition that includes parties with radical leftist and separatist orientations. His reliance on Catalan separatist support in exchange for controversial amnesty arrangements has intensified political polarization within Spain. Constitutional scholars have debated whether certain concessions erode institutional integrity. Whether one views these maneuvers as pragmatic compromise or destabilizing opportunism, they contribute to the perception of a government willing to subordinate long-term cohesion to short-term survival.

The economic picture is similarly complex. Spain has achieved respectable headline growth in recent years, but structural unemployment remains high relative to many European peers. Youth unemployment is particularly acute. Public debt levels remain elevated. Critics contend that while welfare expansion may cushion short-term hardship, it cannot substitute for deep structural reform.

The confluence of these factors — NATO reticence, rhetorical hostility toward Israel, equivocal strategic alignments, and domestic fragility — forms the basis of a growing critique: that Spain under Sánchez is repositioning itself at the margins of Western strategic consensus.

This is not an argument for subservience to Washington or for uncritical endorsement of every Israeli policy. It is an argument for coherence. The Western alliance system is not merely a military arrangement; it is a civilizational compact grounded in liberal democracy, rule of law, and collective defense against authoritarian aggression.

When a NATO member appears reluctant to share burdens while simultaneously castigating a fellow democracy confronting terrorism, it weakens that compact. When antisemitic incidents rise domestically and public discourse blurs lines between legitimate criticism and ethnic hostility, moral leadership demands more than generic denunciations.

Spain’s people deserve a foreign policy that safeguards their security, reinforces alliance solidarity, and defends liberal values consistently. They deserve a government that recognizes that welfare states are sustainable only within secure geopolitical environments — environments sustained by credible defense commitments.

The United States, for its part, must continue to articulate clearly that alliance partnership entails reciprocity. Protection cannot be decoupled from participation. Strategic alignment cannot be selective when threats are systemic.

Spain remains a vital European nation. Its armed forces are professional. Its civil society is vibrant. Its democratic institutions, though strained, are resilient. The question is whether its current leadership will recalibrate toward firmer transatlantic cohesion and clearer moral positioning — particularly regarding Israel’s right to self-defense and the imperative to combat antisemitism without equivocation.

History will judge this period not by rhetorical flourishes but by structural choices. In an era of resurgent authoritarianism and ideological extremism, ambiguity is not neutrality; it is erosion. Spain stands at a crossroads. It can reaffirm its role as a steadfast pillar of Western civilization, or it can continue along a path that dilutes alliance solidarity and blurs moral clarity.

For the sake of Spain’s own future — and for the integrity of the Western project it helped build — one hopes it chooses wisely.