The relations between Mexico and Spain have been the most complex and conflictive of all those maintained between any of the new States that emerged from the disintegration of the Spanish empire. This is not a subjective assessment, just an acknowledgement. Although Mexico was the first of the Latin American republics that Spain established diplomatic relations with after their independence was proclaimed, in the Santa Maria-Calatrava Treaty (Tratado definitivo de paz y amistad entre la República Mexicana y S.M.C. la Reina Gobernadora de España) of 1836, it has also been the place where relations have been suspended the most often and for the longest periods of time, with Hispanophobia and Hispanophilia forming an important part in public debate practically up to the present day.

It is a divisiveness that found a new point of tension, in a history plagued, as just noted, with agreements and disagreements, under the government of former Mexican president Andrés Manuel López Obrador, whose constant references to the negative role of Spain, Spanish culture and the Spanish people in the life of the country seem to be taken from the most rancid repertoire of nineteenth century liberal Hispanophobia. All that was missing was for him to dust off the traditional cry of death to the gachupines (a derogatory term for Spaniards dating back to the viceroyalty) as a weapon for political mobilization. Spain was one of the countries he most often referred to in the daily papers, with statements such as that in bilateral relations between the two countries Mexico always ended up losing or that the Spaniards continued to see Mexico as a conquered land. 

This had its culmination not so much in the demand that the King of Spain apologize for the crimes of the conquest, but in his affirmation that it was necessary to pause relations between the two countries which, if it had been specified in concrete measures, would have meant the introduction of a new legal concept in the field of international relations, that of “paused diplomatic relations.” We presumed this to be, he never explained it, a sort of interim state between full relations and a break in relations. 

It was a cooling of relations that, nevertheless, was not only rhetorical and which his successor and political heir, Claudia Sheinbaum, continued with her refusal to invite the Spanish head of state to her inauguration. This was indeed a full-blown diplomatic insult, one that the Spanish government, we don’t know if by political strategy or as a reflection of the lack of a foreign policy worthy of such a name, decided not to acknowledge. It doesn’t seem necessary to recall that in parliamentary, republican or monarchical systems,  representation of the State falls to the head of State, king or president of the republic, not on the head of government, prime minister or president of the government. The insult from the head of the Mexican state, one of whose most repeated phrases about foreign policy is that “Mexico must be respected,” was not aimed at Felipe de Borbón but rather at Spain, which apparently does not deserve the same respect she demands, rightly, for her country.

This comedy of errors has had its last episode, for now, in the “almost” apology by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, European Union and Spanish Cooperation, José Manuel Albares, we assume endorsed by the rest of the government, and the “more than almost” dismissive response from the Mexican president, Claudia Sheinbaum. 

An “almost” apology, in the first case, because at no point in his speech does he speak about apologizing but rather of recognizing that in the shared history between both countries “There has been pain and injustice towards indigenous peoples. There was injustice, it is fair to acknowledge it and regret it.” A statement that, while it does not seem to ensure the Spanish minister a prominent place in the field of the philosophy of history, is surprising for its inanity. There was pain and injustice in what is known as the conquest of Mexico? I don’t think there is anyone with a minimum knowledge of history who would dare deny it. As in many other events, glorious and inglorious, in the history of humanity, while staying within the history of Mexico there was pain and injustice in the War of Independence, which is also a shared history, and in the Reformation, and in the Revolution, etc. Not only with indigenous peoples but also with non-indigenous ones, assuming that the distinction between one and the other makes sense beyond the vacuous satisfaction of the politically correct.

And a “more than almost” dismissive response, in the second case, because “Congratulations on this first step, Spanish chancellor” sounds something like continue on this path and when you mature and see that you were wrong we’ll talk. It’s a style of language that is quite distant from what is usual in the world of international relations. It’s true that it is less dismissive than the language used months ago when asked about the Princess of Asturias Award being given to the National Museum of Anthropology and History, and her answer was along the lines of that’s fine, but they need to apologize. This is not very different from the indifference with which the previous president, López Obrador, welcomed the  same Princess of Asturias Award, in 2022, given to the well-known archeologist Matos Moctezuma, whom he did not, at least publicly, even congratulate. 

The problem, in any case, goes beyond a matter of good or bad diplomatic manners and the good or bad quality of the political elites in both countries. It includes political and ideological components that should be reflected on. Here, I am going to deal with only two: one of a theoretical nature, of the philosophy of history, we might say; and another practical one, about the complexity of Mexico-Spain relations and how they could be dealt with by the leaders of each country. 

The theoretical component has to do with recognition of the victims and the compensation to which they and their heirs, supposed or real, would be entitled. This is a problem that decolonial theories have placed at the forefront of the political agenda and which in Mexico has found the fertile ground of a narrative on nation in which the Mexican nation-state imagines itself as heir and successor of the nation destroyed by the conquistadors and in which, as a consequence, current Mexicans are the victims and Spaniards are the executioners. A kind of decoloniality avant la lettre, which dates back to the time of independence, when the Creole elites, cultural and biological heirs of the conquistadors, decided to reclaim the condition as descendants of the conquered. It is this imagery of the sudden appearance of victims that is behind this request for an apology.

The problem is that apologies can only be asked for by those who have the moral capacity to do so, and also to accept them. Neither the current Spanish nation-state nor contemporary Spaniards have the authority to speak on behalf of a State, the Catholic Monarchy, and of subjects of the Catholic King, the conquistadors, of whom they are heirs, or even less, of the current Mexican nation-state and present-day Mexicans. Among other reasons because without the conquest neither Mexico nor the Mexicans, as we know them today, would exist. It is the ontological impossibility of someone demanding an apology for certain events without which the person would not exist.

The practical, underlying most of the arguments from those who defend the willingness for appeasement of the current Spanish government, has to do with the supposed advantages, from economic to geopolitical, of an eventual reconciliation. The arguments are reasonable from the point of view of realpolitik. States do not have friends only interests, but they tend to forget that in the Spanish-Mexican conflict, Spain is only the unwanted guest. It doesn’t matter what is said and/or done because the problem isn’t with Spain but rather with Mexico’s Spanish past. More precisely, with the way that past is included, or not, in Mexico’s narrative of nation. It’s a story with a strong anti-Spanish character, with Spain, Spanish culture and Spaniards condemned to the role as enemies of Mexico, and clearly biased from the ideological point of view, the anti-Spanish left versus the Hispanophilic right. Relations will always be tense with left-wing governments, Zapatero’s match-making efforts aside, and more fluid with those on the right.

It is not so much a foreign policy conflict as one on domestic policy and, like all conflicts having to do with identity, it has a great capacity for polarization which, as a consequence, tends to become more acute in times of political radicalization and lessen in times of consensus: in the two centuries that the Mexican nation-state has existed, all times when the political order was questioned have been accompanied by increased conflict in relations with Spain. A possible request for an apology, as a result, regardless of the fact that it should come from a State agreement, not a government decision, and the doubts about the legitimacy of the person requesting it and of the person who grants it, would not solve a conflict that is above all within Mexico.

Translated from Spanish by Lori Gerson