Tit for tapas: they covet the Rock, we conquer Spain Jeremy ClarksonPublished: 4 August 2013 Crikey. It all seems to be kicking off in Gibraltar. In June Spanish police opened fire on a jet skier in Gibraltan waters, and last weekend Spanish border guards decided to inspect every single vehicle leaving the British overseas territory, causing six-hour delays. Meanwhile, Spanish fishermen, who are normally a model of restraint and common sense, have been going nose to nose with the Royal Navy, and there are reports of Spanish jet fighters streaking low over the Rock. It all sounds very ugly. Apparently the recent bout of trouble stems from Britain’s decision to build an artificial reef in the Bay of Gibraltar. We claim it’s to benefit nature but since Spain, with its long tradition of stabbing bulls and throwing donkeys off tower blocks and hoovering every living thing from every ocean in the world, has no real understanding of environmentalism, it presumably imagines that it must be some kind of underwater nuclear submarine base. This is why the Spanish have got all uppity again. In some ways I can’t blame them. Because if Lizard Point in Cornwall belonged to France as a result of some 300-year-old treaty that was drawn up by a bunch of posh boys in wigs, I dare say we might feel a bit aggrieved today. And we’d feel especially aggrieved if the treaty had been the result of a conflict as daft as the War of the Spanish Succession. To recap: Charles II of Spain died childless and Philip of France reckoned he was the rightful heir. But an Austrian called Charles disagreed, saying that he quite fancied being king of Spain. This caused a huge split in Europe that, naturally, the British decided to solve by having a big battle in Belgium. We also decided that we should attack some Mediterranean ports and dispatched the fleet, which sailed around looking for likely targets. Toulon was considered, along with Barcelona, but eventually the top brass settled on Gibraltar. A battle was fought. The Spanish lost. And the residents all scarpered. Eventually Charles of Austria decided he wasn’t bothered about being king of Spain any more and said Philip of France could have the crown. Which caused the British to say, “Yes. But only if we get Gibraltar. Oh, and you’d better throw in Minorca as well or we’ll come and taunt you a second time.” And that was that. Except it wasn’t. The Spanish subsequently invaded Minorca and forced the British garrison to withdraw. But a few years later we decided that though we’d lost the battle, it was still ours. So we went back and had to be kicked out again. Gibraltar, though? Well, despite endless battles and sieges and much diplomatic pressure the 2½ square-mile lump of superheated, monkey-infested rock is still ours today. But whisper this: we don’t need it any more. Yes, it has been strategically important in the past but today it’s only real purpose is as a tax haven for William Hill’s computer servers. As a result it’s guarded by six blokes and a Land Rover. Oh, and there’s a jet fighter on the runway but — and I’m not making this up — it has to be parked with its guns pointed out to sea or the Spanish get all cross. I’m not sure why. It’s such an old aeroplane that its guns are actually better described as trebuchets. So we’re in a tricky spot. The Spanish want Gibraltar back and behind closed doors we’d probably like to give it to them. But we can’t because pretty much 100% of the locals want to stay British. If you go there it’s like you’ve landed in Nigel Farage’s head; there are Union Jacks everywhere and all you can eat are eggs, and chips. So here we are. It’s 2013 and we are in a seemingly impossible Falkland Islands-style spot. We’re sitting here with the Spanish flying their jets through our airspace and taking potshots at our jet-ski enthusiasts. And all we can do is shrug and say we understand but ultimately there’s nothing we can do. Or is there? Yup. Happily I’ve hatched a plan. Instead of sitting around biting our fingernails and worrying that one day Gibraltar will be taken by force, we turn the tables and invade Spain. On paper this sounds like a daunting task. In the air the Spanish have 50 Eurofighter Typhoons and 86 F/A-18 Hornets. At sea there are 11 frigates, three submarines and an amphibious assault ship that can be used as an aircraft carrier. And on land there are 327 main battle tanks. And 75,000 troops. However, while they have a great deal of hardware, they have absolutely no money at all. And a Eurofighter is no good if you don’t have any euros to fill its fuel tanks. I was there just recently and saw first-hand the sheer number of towns and airports and motorways that were never needed and which are now rotting. And if they can’t afford to keep a motorway open, what chance do they have of mounting a full-scale military operation to keep a British invasion at bay? There’s more. We have thousands of battle-hardened troops who when the conflict in Afghanistan is over will need to be kept amused. A gentlemanly scrap in Spain would do the trick nicely. Plus, finally, I’m not sure the Spaniards would be that ill disposed towards a British takeover. The South American cash cow stopped producing riches centuries ago, and now even the EU money lorry doesn’t drop by any more. I think many would therefore quite like it if we were in charge. It’d be good for us too. Certainly a short war would be a far better capital project than the HS2 rail link, and the benefits would be greater. I have no doubt, of course, that my plan will never get beyond the drawing board. We will never invade and conquer Spain. But look at it this way; if they thought for a moment we were looking into the possibility, they might stop shooting at our jet skiers and closing the border every time the mood took them. In short, they might get back in their box.
Posted on: Sun, 04 Aug 2013 09:59:07 +0000
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