Europe’s Divided Voice: Why Germany and Spain See Gaza Through Different Historical Lenses
When asked why Germany refuses to label Israel’s actions in Gaza as genocide, Friedrich Merz’s response reveals how Europe’s fractured past continues to shape its fractured present on Middle Eastern policy.
The exchange between Germany’s Chancellor and a Spanish journalist has exposed one of Europe’s most profound diplomatic rifts. While Spain has joined a small but growing number of nations recognizing Palestinian statehood and using increasingly strong language about Israeli military operations, Germany remains Israel’s most steadfast European ally. This split isn’t merely about current events—it’s a collision between two radically different historical memories and moral frameworks.
The Weight of History
Germany’s relationship with Israel is uniquely shaped by the Holocaust, creating what many German politicians describe as a “special responsibility” for Israel’s security. This historical burden has made German leaders extremely cautious about criticizing Israeli policies, even as civilian casualties mount in Gaza. For Germany, the word “genocide” carries particular weight—it’s not just a legal term but a moral reckoning with their own past.
Spain, conversely, draws from a different historical well. Having experienced its own civil war and decades of fascist dictatorship under Franco, Spanish political culture has developed a strong identification with movements resisting occupation and authoritarianism. The Spanish left, in particular, sees parallels between Palestinian resistance and their own historical struggles, making solidarity with Palestinians a natural extension of their political identity.
The Diplomatic Implications
This divergence has real consequences for European Union foreign policy. The bloc’s requirement for consensus on major foreign policy positions means that Germany’s stance effectively prevents any unified European recognition of Palestinian statehood or stronger condemnation of Israeli actions. Meanwhile, Spain’s position—shared to varying degrees by Ireland, Norway, and Belgium—creates an alternate pole of European opinion that increasingly clashes with the German-led status quo.
The timing of this split is particularly significant. As the humanitarian crisis in Gaza deepens and international legal proceedings against Israel advance, European nations are being forced to take clearer positions. The International Court of Justice’s examination of genocide allegations has made fence-sitting increasingly untenable, pushing countries to articulate why they do or don’t see Israeli actions as meeting the legal threshold for genocide.
Beyond Words: Policy Consequences
The semantic debate over “genocide” has material implications. Countries that recognize Israeli actions as genocide face pressure to halt arms sales and impose sanctions—steps that would fundamentally alter the regional balance of power. Germany, as one of Israel’s major weapons suppliers, would face particular pressure to end military cooperation if it accepted the genocide framework. Spain, having already restricted arms sales, has less to lose economically from its stronger stance.
As Europe grapples with its response to Gaza, this German-Spanish divide illustrates a deeper question: Can a continent built on the promise of “never again” find a unified moral voice when confronted with mass civilian casualties today, or will the ghosts of different pasts forever prevent Europeans from speaking with one voice about present-day atrocities?
