Moroccans seize Parsley Island and leave a bitter taste in Spanish mouths
Giles Tremlett in Madrid
Saturday July 13, 2002
Guardian
It will go down in history as the first military invasion of western European soil since the second world war. In a secret operation carried out by sea, Moroccan soldiers took the Spanish-owned Isla del Perejil late on Thursday, hoisted their country's red and green flag from its highest point, set up camp and waited for the Spaniards to try to take the land back.
Yesterday the Moroccan troops waited, arms at the ready, scanning the Atlantic horizon and the nearby Strait of Gibraltar for Spanish warships. They had successfully invaded a patch of land that, formally, belongs to an area protected by Nato. What would happen next?
The invasion of Perejil, literally "the parsley island", yesterday created an international incident that reverberated through Europe and North Africa, but its farcical nature meant it was unlikely to spark anything more than a war of words.
The invasion force consisted of a dozen poorly armed Moroccan frontier guards, equipped with a radio, two flags and a couple of tents.
The island they invaded, which lies 200 metres off the coast of northern Morocco, is populated solely by lizards, bugs and sprigs of wild parsley. No one has used it for anything other than sunbathing and snorkelling since the 1960s.
Even the Spanish government, which maintains that its last occupants 40 years ago were Spanish legionnaires, concedes that the islet has no strategic value.
Nobody knows for sure how the invasion force got there, but a couple of rowing boats would have sufficed to get on to this barren rock, whose circumference measures less than half a mile and which covers an area barely bigger than a football pitch.
The Moroccans, however, claim they mean business. The farce over an island they have renamed Leila is not without real threats and danger.
When officers from Spain's civil guard police force arrived on a small patrol boat from the nearby Spanish North African enclave of Ceuta three miles away and to which the islet nominally belongs, they were reportedly persuaded to get back on their boat at gunpoint.
The invasion was greeted with amazement by Moroccans, who were yesterday readying themselves for three days of celebrations to mark King Mohammed VI's recent marriage. Most had not even realised that the island, so close to the popular beaches north of Tangiers, was meant to be Spanish.
Opposition politicians in the Moroccan capital Rabat backed the official government explanation that this has been Moroccan territory since Spain lost its North African protectorate in 1956.
Spanish radio stations, however, were overwhelmed with calls from people demanding that the Moroccan invaders be driven back into the sea. An internet poll by El Mundo newspaper showed that one in five voters wanted the Isla del Perejil stormed by crack Spanish troops.
El Mundo also called Mohammed VI a "dictator" and raged: "The King of Morocco has chosen the path of confrontation with one of the great European democracies and this should have a serious cost for him."
The invasion, which appeared deliberately timed to coincide with the wedding celebrations, provoked jitters in the Spanish government and the EU.
Spain's defence ministry sent three patrol boats armed with small cannon to the area. These were yesterday stationed about a mile from the islet, which was being "protected" by two small, brightly painted Moroccan fishing boats.
The government of prime minister Jose Maria Aznar warned of other Moroccan naval movements around a number of Spanish-owned rocky outcrops and islands off the North African coast and said it had sent reinforcements to some isolated military outposts there.
"A Moroccan patrol boat was seen carrying out manoeuvres close to one of the Chafarinas islands and as a result the government has decided to strengthen the military which is permanently based in the territories," the deputy prime minister, Mariano Rajoy, said after a cabinet meeting in Madrid.
Foreign ministry officials, undoubtedly aware of an earlier precedent set by the appearance of Argentinian flags on South Georgia before the Falklands war, described the incident as "grave" but pledged "serenity" in their response.
"It is a serious situation that we will go to work on rather than just talking about it," the foreign minister, Ana Palacio, said on only her second day in the job. "Spain must ask for a return to the status quo and that is what we are doing."
The Moroccan government, with its mind on the royal wedding, did not comment but senior foreign ministry officials said it had no intention of removing its men from the Isla del Perejil.
"The island is within Moroccan territorial waters," one official said.
Officials claimed Morocco had simply set up an "observation post" on the islet to help it prevent terrorist attacks and illegal migration into Europe across the Strait of Gibraltar, which divide Spain from Africa and the Mediterranean from the Atlantic.
It seemed unlikely that the invasion could have taken place without the personal approval of King Mohammed, considered an important ally of the west.
EU officials condemned the invasion. "This is clearly a regrettable incident. It constitutes a violation of Spanish territory," the European commission spokesman, Gunar Wiegand, told a news briefing. "This has nothing to do with fighting illegal immigration."
Nato, however, said it was a purely bilateral problem between Spain and Morocco.
The invasion marks one of the lowest points in relations between the two countries since the present king's father, Hassan II, engineered a peaceful invasion of the former Spanish colony of the Western Sahara by tens of thousands of unarmed Moroccans on the so-called Green March nearly 30 years ago.
Rows over Spanish support for the Polisario Front independence movement in the western Sahara and over fishing, farming, immigration and drug smuggling had already strained relations to snapping point. Last October King Mohammed withdrew Morocco's ambassador to Madrid.
This month Moroccan officials summoned the Spanish ambassador in Rabat to explain the unexpected deployment of five warships near some Spanish rocks just 600 metres off the Mediterranean port of Al Hoceima. Spain said they were "on exercises".
As a result of the increasingly difficult relations between both countries, the Spanish royal family and members of the government had already declined to attend the wedding celebrations of King Mohammed.
Mr Rajoy said yesterday that the occupation of Perejil was "incomprehensible" and "an act of hostility". He warned Morocco not to forget that it was the biggest recipient of foreign aid from Spain, which was also its second biggest trading partner. He also pointed out, rather menacingly, that there were 200,000 Moroccans living in Spain and that this summer 1.5 million Moroccans would cross the country to make the yearly trek home for holidays from Europe. "Where does the Moroccan government want to go with its relations with Spain?" he asked.
Spain retains two enclaves on North African soil, a throwback to the days when it ruled much of the Mediterranean coastline of what is now Morocco. It resists, however, any comparison between its retention of the two enclaves, Ceuta and Melilla, and Britain's sovereignty over Gibraltar. It says neither enclave was populated by the Moors and that both are, by right of conquest, occupation or treaty, fully Spanish.
Morocco, in turn, claims sovereignty not just over Perejil but also over Ceuta and Melilla and, with less vigour, over the Canary Islands. It has been keeping a close eye on negotiations for sovereignty sharing between Spain and Britain over the Rock.
Spain yesterday admitted that although it had held control over Perejil for several hundred years, the rock had not been legally documented as Spanish in recent decades. "There is a certain vagueness in this aspect," said a foreign ministry spokesman.
King who promised so much but gave so little
While his soldiers were invading a tiny Spanish island yesterday, King Mohammed VI of Morocco was starting lavish celebrations to mark his recent marriage.
The 39-year-old king, who took over on the death of his father King Hassan II three years ago, has had the capital city, Rabat, adorned with flowers for the three days of feasting and dancing. The celebrations had been postponed from April because of tensions in the Middle East.
About 1,500 people were on the official guest list, including the former US president Bill Clinton and his daughter, Chelsea, who arrived for an evening ceremony at the royal palace. A procession of Moroccans also marched there bearing "symbols of a happy life and purity" for the bride, Salma Bennani, a computer engineer.
Other festivities include street parties in Rabat and public weddings across the kingdom.
A small town of luxurious tents has been set up along the River Bouregreg, where 300 couples will marry in honour of the king's marriage. Yesterday he pardoned 8,400 common prisoners and reduced the sentences of 42,200 others.
The king, previously known mainly for his love of jet-skiing, may have been busy with his wedding plans but the decision to invade the Isla de Perejil would not have been made without his consent.
Despite having a democratically elected parliament, Morocco is still effectively run by the king and royal advisers based at his main palace in Rabat. The prime minister, currently the socialist veteran Abderrahmane Youssoufi, and key ministers are directly appointed by the king, who is considered a direct descendant of the prophet Mohammed.
Mohammed VI's arrival on the throne was greeted with enthusiasm by his people. He promised to modernise, sweeping away the ruthless, semi-feudal system of his father's day.
He was dubbed "the king of the poor" and was known as M6. When he disposed of the harem built up by his father and allowed the press to photograph his future wife, many thought it a true revolution.
But the promises of change have not been fulfilled. Journalists are still harassed. Human rights campaigners complain that his father's strongmen are still in power. Promised changes to the moudwana, the cruel law governing women's rights, have not been made.
The king, considered an ally by the west, is said to have been so badly treated by his own father that he has little interest in ruling. Critics claim he is overtaken by fits of rage that provoke strange policy decisions, including the decision to retire the ambassador from Madrid.
"By allowing the hope he inspired to evaporate, the king risks losing his throne," Jean-Pierre Tuquoi, a Le Monde journalist, warned in a recent biography.
