Between The Rock and a hard place: a Gibraltarian metaphor for Brexit
On the 29th of March, 1969, Madrid played host to the 14th annual Eurovision Song Contest. At the time, Spain was undergoing a regime crisis, as the future of Francoist dictatorship lay in doubt. While it would be another 17 years before Spain joined the European Economic Community, marking the tail end of the country’s democratisation, the economy was slowly internationalising. Culture quickly followed suit; Spain shared victory at Eurovision that year with, among others, the United Kingdom. Only a week earlier, however, a tiny shard on the edge of Iberia had played host to a completely different musical outfit: John Lennon and Yoko Ono, marrying on the Rock of Gibraltar.
They weren’t the first, and they certainly wouldn’t be the last: the spot now plays host to many a British couple looking to enter into the union of matrimony, while enjoying a average daily sunshine hours unseen anywhere else in the United Kingdom. As an Overseas Territory, a self-governing but otherwise integral part of the U.K., Gibraltar has about as much Spanish sovereignty as a Victoria Sponge, which means that the end of an entirely different kind of Union could spell trouble.
Gibraltar’s status is almost emblematic of a dour British pseudo-exceptionalism, the kind epitomised by our lack of a written constitution, our confused relationship with every nation we’ve ever been at war with, and our insistence on the ´special relationship’. So, what makes Gibraltar exceptional?
Naturally, it all starts with money. The currency on the Rock is known as the Gibraltarian Pound, pegged to the British sterling. Like old Scottish banknotes, the currency is valid on Gibraltar but rarely accepted elsewhere. The inverse is true of the Euro; despite its ubiquity in the surrounding Campo de Gibraltar, its use on the peninsula itself is met with a quiet scorn. This has made life for many difficult since the Cordoba Agreement enabled freer trading and travel through the border with Gibraltar - at least on paper, by loosening border controls and allowing flights between Gibraltar and mainland Spain.
Unfortunately, the hardships for Spaniards don’t end there. Gibraltar International Airport, an airstrip on the edge of the British territory that allows relatively easy access to London and Manchester, happens to bisect the one road that leads to the border with Spain, causing up to two hours of congestion to build up at peak flight times. Therefore, any Spaniards looking to work or even travel to Gibraltar have their work cut out.
Meanwhile, Gibraltar itself adopts a peculiar cultural identity; without looking to generalise, the town an ambient of Britishness undercut by internationalism. The Marks and Spencer will sell you a 6 pack of crumpets, but the staff tend to be Spanish. Tour guides are keen to show you the only C of E church in Iberia, you’ll also take in the impressive mosque, a gift from King Fahd of Saudi Arabia. And while most chatter heard in the street is either English or Spanish, some of it is llanito – a kind of creole not unlike the “Spanglish” employed by many Hispanics on the other side of the Atlantic.
This unique identity extends into the political realm- in addition to a broad level of autonomy, Gibraltarians are Europhiles, who voted unanimously to remain in the European Union with only 4% of voters opting to leave. Only 27% of those labelled as “Gibraltarian” are originally of British descent, with the remainder being mostly Spanish, Italian, or Maltese. This is an important distinguishing factor, given that other UK overseas territories tend to be either largely homogenous or in the middle of nowhere; furthermore, Gibraltar’s long-standing role as little more than a European outpost has lent it another exception: Gibraltarians were never the explicit victims of any kind of colonialism since the original occupants were forced onto Spanish territory by the British post-occupation. Gibraltar’s status in the context of Europe would therefore imply that a desire to remain politically British brings about a series of complications in relations with the rest of the EU - even when the EU’s just over the other side of the Rock.
Gibraltar’s sheer proximity to Western Europe makes it a microcosm of how the UK’s EU membership interacts in the face of common sense. Putting a small piece of what is effectively the United Kingdom on the border with Spain, a full EU member state, articulates the between the two; not least through the bemused faces of tourists realising they have face a passport check to go from one part of Iberia to the other. It’s the exceptions Gibraltar doesn’t make, like the UK’s exemption from the Schengen area and the Eurozone, which force the complications. A glance at the Good Friday Agreement and the furore over a hard border in Northern Ireland prove that the United Kingdom is hardly blind to the idea of European cooperation, if it aligns with its interests; across the Atlantic, in the Falklands, exactly the opposite stance is adopted in the face of Argentine nationalism.
The problem is that Gibraltar is not necessarily an imperialist case; it was simply a consequence of the spoils of the War of the Spanish Succession. Gibraltar was never under anyone’s sovereignty but the Spanish before it was claimed for the Crown in the peace of 1713, nor were its inhabitants subjugated peoples; rather, they were a melting pot of economic immigrants on relatively level pegging. Therefore, an imperialist history does little to explain Gibraltar’s existence, given that the historical and socioeconomic factors at play in either instance are so completely dissonant with what is effectively a pseudo-Spanish fort-come-duty-free outlet.
Maybe it’s the distance - both literal and discursive – from the British Isles that means Gibraltar’s relative misalignment remains unremedied. Additionally, the effective purpose of Gibraltar, to patrol cargo ships crossing the strait, will still be possible after Brexit, if a lot more complex. The main impacts will be faced by the Rock’s 32,000 inhabitants,; you’d need about fifty Gibraltars to make one Northern Ireland, which, incidentally, is a comparison that no one wants to make: Dara Murphy, in discussion with Spanish EU officials on the issue of Brexit, stated that the cases of Gibraltar and Northern Ireland were “completely different”. Political partisanship aside, he’s probably on the right lines.
So, there’s the rub. In spite of a different culture, economy, and demography, Gibraltar maintains the same relationship with Europe as Grimsby. Thousands of miles away, at the southwestern tip of the European continent, the island mentality of Great Britain still plays the tune.
Gibraltar’s status is almost emblematic of a dour British pseudo-exceptionalism, the kind epitomised by our lack of a written constitution, our confused relationship with every nation we’ve ever been at war with, and our insistence on the ´special relationship’. So, what makes Gibraltar exceptional?
Naturally, it all starts with money. The currency on the Rock is known as the Gibraltarian Pound, pegged to the British sterling. Like old Scottish banknotes, the currency is valid on Gibraltar but rarely accepted elsewhere. The inverse is true of the Euro; despite its ubiquity in the surrounding Campo de Gibraltar, its use on the peninsula itself is met with a quiet scorn. This has made life for many difficult since the Cordoba Agreement enabled freer trading and travel through the border with Gibraltar - at least on paper, by loosening border controls and allowing flights between Gibraltar and mainland Spain.
Unfortunately, the hardships for Spaniards don’t end there. Gibraltar International Airport, an airstrip on the edge of the British territory that allows relatively easy access to London and Manchester, happens to bisect the one road that leads to the border with Spain, causing up to two hours of congestion to build up at peak flight times. Therefore, any Spaniards looking to work or even travel to Gibraltar have their work cut out.
Meanwhile, Gibraltar itself adopts a peculiar cultural identity; without looking to generalise, the town an ambient of Britishness undercut by internationalism. The Marks and Spencer will sell you a 6 pack of crumpets, but the staff tend to be Spanish. Tour guides are keen to show you the only C of E church in Iberia, you’ll also take in the impressive mosque, a gift from King Fahd of Saudi Arabia. And while most chatter heard in the street is either English or Spanish, some of it is llanito – a kind of creole not unlike the “Spanglish” employed by many Hispanics on the other side of the Atlantic.
This unique identity extends into the political realm- in addition to a broad level of autonomy, Gibraltarians are Europhiles, who voted unanimously to remain in the European Union with only 4% of voters opting to leave. Only 27% of those labelled as “Gibraltarian” are originally of British descent, with the remainder being mostly Spanish, Italian, or Maltese. This is an important distinguishing factor, given that other UK overseas territories tend to be either largely homogenous or in the middle of nowhere; furthermore, Gibraltar’s long-standing role as little more than a European outpost has lent it another exception: Gibraltarians were never the explicit victims of any kind of colonialism since the original occupants were forced onto Spanish territory by the British post-occupation. Gibraltar’s status in the context of Europe would therefore imply that a desire to remain politically British brings about a series of complications in relations with the rest of the EU - even when the EU’s just over the other side of the Rock.
Gibraltar’s sheer proximity to Western Europe makes it a microcosm of how the UK’s EU membership interacts in the face of common sense. Putting a small piece of what is effectively the United Kingdom on the border with Spain, a full EU member state, articulates the between the two; not least through the bemused faces of tourists realising they have face a passport check to go from one part of Iberia to the other. It’s the exceptions Gibraltar doesn’t make, like the UK’s exemption from the Schengen area and the Eurozone, which force the complications. A glance at the Good Friday Agreement and the furore over a hard border in Northern Ireland prove that the United Kingdom is hardly blind to the idea of European cooperation, if it aligns with its interests; across the Atlantic, in the Falklands, exactly the opposite stance is adopted in the face of Argentine nationalism.
The problem is that Gibraltar is not necessarily an imperialist case; it was simply a consequence of the spoils of the War of the Spanish Succession. Gibraltar was never under anyone’s sovereignty but the Spanish before it was claimed for the Crown in the peace of 1713, nor were its inhabitants subjugated peoples; rather, they were a melting pot of economic immigrants on relatively level pegging. Therefore, an imperialist history does little to explain Gibraltar’s existence, given that the historical and socioeconomic factors at play in either instance are so completely dissonant with what is effectively a pseudo-Spanish fort-come-duty-free outlet.
Maybe it’s the distance - both literal and discursive – from the British Isles that means Gibraltar’s relative misalignment remains unremedied. Additionally, the effective purpose of Gibraltar, to patrol cargo ships crossing the strait, will still be possible after Brexit, if a lot more complex. The main impacts will be faced by the Rock’s 32,000 inhabitants,; you’d need about fifty Gibraltars to make one Northern Ireland, which, incidentally, is a comparison that no one wants to make: Dara Murphy, in discussion with Spanish EU officials on the issue of Brexit, stated that the cases of Gibraltar and Northern Ireland were “completely different”. Political partisanship aside, he’s probably on the right lines.
So, there’s the rub. In spite of a different culture, economy, and demography, Gibraltar maintains the same relationship with Europe as Grimsby. Thousands of miles away, at the southwestern tip of the European continent, the island mentality of Great Britain still plays the tune.
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