The bilateral relationship between Spain and the United States appears to be approaching a strategic crossroads. Since the September 11th attacks, both governments have often had to muddle through their political divergences to sustain strategic cooperation. This has taken a toll on the bilateral relationship. In Spain, there is ongoing discussion about the value of strong alignment with US national security and foreign policy interests. In addition, the public’s perception of the United States has historically shown a slight majority of Spaniards supporting the alliance with the United States, but with a clear partisan divide along the left-right ideological line. With President Donald Trump in power, perceptions have shifted toward greater criticism, viewing Trump’s re-election as a “bad thing” for the country and with the United States increasingly seen not as a like-minded ally sharing common values and interests, but rather as a necessary strategic partner with whom cooperation is essential.

In the United States, there are significant concerns about the political risks of having an ally that is not fully aligned with US national security and foreign policy interests, and there is increasing apathy toward the acceptance of path dependency. To compound matters, the current leaders of Spain and the United States not only come from opposite sides of the political spectrum but also appear to have a personal animosity toward one another. Given this problematic internal environment, it is not surprising that Spain and the United States are finding it more difficult than usual to find a way to sustain strategic cooperation in the early days of the second Trump administration.

The Spanish Conundrum

From the Spanish perspective, the bilateral relationship has been a core pillar of the kingdom’s foreign and defense policy since the end of the Cold War. The transatlantic link has shaped Spain’s role in international affairs, structured its participation in NATO, guided its global projection, and offered it credibility within the Western security architecture. Yet, it is a relationship that has never existed in a vacuum—it has been as much about international positioning as it has been about domestic politics. Spain’s political leaders, from both the left and right, have sought to extract legitimacy, deflect criticism, or gain symbolic capital from their dealings with Washington. This domestic dimension of the US-Spain relationship means that it is a strategic bond and a politically sensitive issue for Spain, used at different times by governments and opposition forces to score points in national debates.

Embedded in this historical context, Spain and the United States are now trying to find a way to muddle through the return of Trump to the White House. Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez must navigate the bilateral relationship through turbulent and uncertain domestic waters. His government majority exists without a parliamentary majority, his coalition partners and parliamentarians are opposed to increased defense spending and deepening relations with the United States and NATO (thereby weakening Spanish negotiating position), and the Spanish public is concerned with the lack of a public budget, high levels of national debt, and some alleged corruption and nepotism scandals involving his inner circle. It is therefore no wonder that there is pushback from the Sánchez administration against the Trump administration. For Sánchez, there is little room to maneuver if he wants to stay in power. He has bet that his grip on power depends, at least in part, on firm opposition to the perceived aggressive foreign policy of the Trump administration. That includes Trump’s criticism of NATO allies for underfunding defense. This has led Sánchez to go all in on promoting European strategic autonomy, one of the arguments backing Sánchez’s recent visit to China to seek European leadership credentials. The problem is that there is a mismatch between what Sánchez says that he wants and what Europe can deliver: For instance, there is a strong technological dependence on third parties, a highly fragmented defence industry, and a comprehensive defense outlook that seeks to integrate other security issues (e.g., migration, cybersecurity, climate change).

The problem for Spain is that its national security and foreign policy interests aren’t just misaligned with the United States, they are also misaligned with the European Union. While many of its European neighbors focus on the threat posed by Russia along the eastern border, Spain continues to beat the drum of the existential threat posed by other actors along the southern border. Lacking reliable allies in North Africa and the Sahel, one would imagine that Spain would therefore seek to leverage the bilateral relationship with the United States as an offset. The problem is that the second Trump administration is unlikely to be receptive to that overture. The problem for Spain is that it has too little to bring to the table to make it a credible regional partner in the eyes of the second Trump administration. It may have intelligence capabilities, but it lacks much of a forward presence in North Africa and the Sahel. Moreover, it wears the choke of the European Union. That is a pox mark for regional engagement in the eyes of the second Trump administration, which is all too mindful of the French strategic abandonment of the Sahel under its prior watch. The second Trump administration would therefore much rather make its bed with Morocco, a country that has a stronger forward presence and is more fully aligned with US national security and foreign policy interests on key issues for the America First Foreign Policy Agenda (i.e., support for Israel).

Ghosts of the Past

Tracing the history of the bilateral relationship helps explain the present unease. The story of US-Spain relations over the past three decades reveals recurring cycles of convergence and divergence, moments of tight cooperation and others of strategic ambiguity. In the 1980s and 90s, the foundations were laid for a close, if sometimes asymmetrical, partnership. The debate on relations with the United States can be traced back to the 1950s, during former dictator Francisco Franco’s regime, a sign of the relevance of Spain’s geostrategic position. Spain’s support for the US-led coalition during the Gulf War signaled its willingness to align with Washington in global affairs. The end of the Cold War offered new opportunities for military and political collaboration, as Spain moved from the periphery to a more central position in Euro-Atlantic security, fundamentally through its commitment to international peacekeeping operations and its final full integration into NATO. Spain became an excellent support point, but not indispensable to the US strategy.

The 2000s witnessed an intensification of this partnership, especially in the wake of the September 11 attacks. Spain became a vocal supporter of US counterterrorism efforts and joined the coalition in Iraq, despite massive domestic opposition. The decision by Then-Prime Minister José María Aznar’s government to back the 2003 invasion remains one of the most controversial episodes in modern Spanish foreign policy. It revealed the costs of blind alignment and ultimately contributed to Aznar’s electoral defeat following the 2004 Madrid train bombings. The Madrid train bombings deeply shook the country and triggered a national reassessment of Spain’s posture in the Global War on Terror and the alignment with the United States. Spain abandoned Iraq but, to compensate, increased the number of military personnel deployed in Afghanistan.

Even so, security and defense cooperation continued to deepen throughout the 2010s. The expansion of the Rota Naval Base as part of the US missile defense system was a milestone in bilateral military ties, offering the United States a strategic Mediterranean hub while reinforcing Spain’s geostrategic relevance. Similarly, the 2015 Defense Security Cooperation Agreement institutionalized US military presence in Spain and expanded avenues for joint operations. The Rota (hosting the US Navy) and Morón (US Air Force) bases are strategic assets for Spain and bolster Spain as a credible and reliable ally for the United States. Additionally, Spain played a leading role in maritime security operations in the Horn of Africa and contributed to anti-piracy efforts. Still, the chronic underinvestment in defense remained a sore point in bilateral relations, aggravated by the depth of the economic crisis and financial constraints. While Spain formally committed to the NATO target of 2 percent of GDP in military spending, it consistently fell short of reaching this target—an issue that became especially contentious under administrations more focused on material metrics than diplomatic niceties, such as Trump’s.

The Trumpian Era

The first term of the Trump administration exposed the fragility of the Alliance for the world to see. Trump’s disdain for multilateralism sharply contrasted with the approach always privileged by Spanish diplomacy. His transactional view of alliances was mismatched with a Spanish government that tried to maintain a rhetorical alignment with broader transatlantic values. His relentless demands for defense spending led to increasingly strained ties with Madrid, given Spain’s recurrent defense spending deficit. To compound matters, the Spanish government woefully misread the new order intended by the White House in the early days of the first term in office. The consequence? Trump singled out its Iberian ally as a laggard, accusing it of freeriding on US security guarantees.

The second term of the Trump administration has continued along this downward trajectory. In manifest terms, the problems were apparent almost immediately. Spain was not included in the first rounds of bilateral meetings with key European partners. The deliberate omission was telling: It signaled a strategic sidelining of Madrid in US foreign policy circles. It speaks volumes—not just about Spain’s position in Trump’s geopolitical calculus, but also about the limits of its leverage. A few weeks later, Trump made his famous remark about Spain being a member of BRICS. Many commentators wrote it off as a mistake, but others claimed it was a signal that Trump views Spain as sitting too far on the other side of the ledger in major power competition with China. Soon thereafter, the Federal Maritime Commission launched an examination to identify any regulations, policies, or practices by other parties that create unfavourable shipping conditions in several chokepoints around the world. One of those chokepoints is the Strait of Gibraltar. That investigation is bound to look at the findings of a parallel investigation that is being conducted into reports that the Government of Spain denied port entries to several US-flagged vessels and foreign-flagged vessels that were reportedly transporting US arms and other materials destined for Israel.

In this new era, US public criticisms of Spain are no longer delivered in closed door meetings. Instead, they are delivered publicly in sharp and undiplomatic terms. For Sánchez’s government, these reproaches present Janus-faced risks. On the one hand, they provide fodder for the conservative opposition to rally support against the incumbent government. On the other, they allow the Spanish executive to present itself as a defender of European values against American unilateralism and to rally domestic political support and underline the contrast between progressive European governance and populist, nationalist disruption across the Atlantic. The government has not hesitated to frame its policy choices as part of a broader contrast with Trump-style populism. Figures within or close to Trump’s orbit, like Elon Musk, have been directly criticized by Sánchez, often in the context of domestic political messaging. This use of bilateral tension for internal gain, however, comes at a cost: It risks further politicizing what should be a strategic and stable relationship.

Now, national defense is at the forefront of Spanish political conversation and Spain continues to signal its commitment to the rules-based international order and to collective defense, clearly taking a stand against Russia and its invasion of Ukraine and against Israel in its response to Hamas’ attacks with the invasion of Gaza. Both issues currently place the Spanish government in a very uncomfortable position vis-à-vis the White House.

A New Reality

The bilateral relationship has entered a new reality. This is evidenced by Madrid’s refusal to join the US-led maritime coalition safeguarding navigation in the Strait of Hormuz and its decision not to participate in military exercises around Taiwan. These actions have damaged the perception of Spain as a defender of the global commons, even though Spanish national security strategies have repeatedly underscored the need to support allies and uphold international law. They have also left the American bureaucracy—not just the Trump administration—distrustful of Spain’s commitment to pushing back against revisionist powers who threaten the current world order, including China and Iran. For the US government, these sorts of decisions reinforce the view that the Sánchez administration is pursuing a path of strategic accommodation of major power competitors of the United States.

In the short-run, this pattern of rhetorical commitment without operational follow-through could reinforce the perception that Spain is a low-value ally for Washington: reliable only in low-risk, consensus-driven arenas, but absent when stakes are high or when alignment requires cost. This perception is not new—there has long been a discussion about whether Spain “punches below its weight” in NATO, reflecting debates over its limited political and material assertiveness within the alliance despite having one of Europe’s largest economies and a strategically important geographic position. Trump’s return is simply reviving demands for increased defense budgets and could see renewed skepticism toward NATO’s Southern Flank—an area where Spain sees growing threats, from instability in the Sahel to irregular migration and hybrid threats.

This is problematic for the Spanish government. Regardless of who is in power, there will be concern that US disengagement from Africa and its overwhelming focus on great power competition in Eastern Europe and the Indo-Pacific will create a strategic void in regions vital to Spanish and European security. This will only be exacerbated by exogenous events such as the arms race between Morocco and Algeria that can close the capabilities gap and pose a security dilemma for Spain vis-à-vis its southern neighbors. This is evident in the concerns so often expressed for the US preference for Morocco as a key regional ally, which risks undermining Spain’s position in critical areas such as the Canary Islands or the Spanish cities of North Africa (i.e., Ceuta, Melilla). On issues such as the Western Sahara remain significant gaps: Spain will reject ideas such as the designation of the Polisario Front as “terrorist,” but it officially supports the “Moroccan solution” for the former Spanish colony. The case presents an interesting paradox: The Spanish government maintains a strong voice in defending Palestinian rights but remains silent on the future of Western Sahara, where it has aligned itself in large part with the Moroccan government’s position.

Choose Your Own Adventure

All this talk of history begs the question of what happens next. Sánchez, already under domestic pressure, will need to choose. If history repeats itself, he will attempt to use Trump’s unpredictability to galvanize political support at home. However, such a strategy will be less effective the second time around. As noted, Spain’s leverage has diminished, especially with a more divided domestic political landscape and growing skepticism about Spain’s global role. The persistent underfunding of the military continues to undermine Madrid’s credibility within NATO, regardless of who occupies the White House. The paradox is stark. Spain aspires to a more influential role within Europe, including leadership on defense and security matters, yet it repeatedly fails to invest politically or financially in ways that would make such a role credible. Domestic political constraints play a role: The Sánchez government is pressured by coalition partners like Sumar and parliamentary allies, many of whom are openly critical of NATO and defense spending. But the result is a strategic posture that lacks both consistency and ambition.

To be fair, Spain has long argued that security threats from the Sahel, North Africa, and even Latin America deserve greater attention within NATO and EU frameworks. Its geographical proximity, historical ties, and operational presence give it a legitimate claim to leadership in this area. However, the gap between this discourse and reality can be grating. The failure of the Sánchez administration to devote the required resources to control the narco-trafficking problem in La Línea serves as a case in point. If Spain continues to underinvest in defense, avoid visible military commitments, and instrumentalize the relationship for domestic messaging, it will likely find itself further marginalized in Washington, especially under a Trump presidency that demands tangible contributions. The Sánchez administration might therefore want to consider other options that would increase its leverage and improve its credibility. That would require recalibrating the bilateral relationship and aligning its strategic actions with its rhetorical commitments.

Alternative Futures

Looking ahead, several alternative futures for US-Spain relations in the context of a second Trump term can be sketched out. Three possible scenarios are orphaning, pragmatism, and institutional restructuring.

In the most adversarial scenario, Trump resumes his criticism of Spain, US disengagement from the Southern Flank accelerates, and Madrid is left more isolated in its regional security efforts. If the United States doubles down on Morocco as its preferred partner in the region, it constitutes a trade-off that will weaken Madrid’s position. The absence of the United States, without any replacement, in North Africa, along with the lack of EU missions, would exacerbate the challenges arising from Spain’s “Southern Front.”

Alternatively, a more pragmatic arrangement could emerge: Spain could position itself as a stabilizing force in the Western Mediterranean and Sahel, leveraging its geographic and institutional assets to compensate for American retrenchment. This is a position that helps maintain the status quo—anchored in the importance of military bases and current commitments—which in turn allows Spain to navigate Trump’s second term.

The third scenario would require both sides to reframe the relationship away from political cycles and domestic posturing, meaning insulating the transatlantic partnership from electoral turbulence and restoring a shared strategic vision. For this to happen, both Washington and Madrid must see the mutual benefit in a deeper alliance, one not defined solely by GDP spending targets or ideological affinity. Trump’s America is less interested in symbolic partnerships and more focused on transactional returns. That demands that partisan politics bend to accommodate national interests. Spain must articulate what it can offer the United States—from counterterrorism cooperation to regional stability in North Africa and the Atlantic. In return, the United States must acknowledge the value of Spain as a trusted, if at times ambivalent, partner in maintaining European and Mediterranean security.

The bilateral relationship between Spain and the United States will survive the current state of turbulence and uncertainty. However, neither the Sánchez nor Trump administrations will be able to maximize the returns on their investment in the relationship if they continue to put partisan politics ahead of national interests. What is needed is a serious, long-term rethinking of mutual interests, free from political theatrics and grounded in strategic realism. Only then can both sides realize the full potential of a strategic partnership that, for too long, has been coasting on inertia.

Image: The Spanish King Felipe VI greets US Army Soldiers assigned to the 159th General Support Aviation Brigade, US Army Reserve Aviation Command, as part of Swift Response 23 in San Gregorio, Spain on May 18, 2023. (US Army photo by Staff Sgt. John Todd)