No to War? The Limits of Pedro Sánchez’s Position

Behind the rhetoric of peace lies NATO alignment and European dependency. The real anti-war power can only emerge from popular movements across the world.

Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez

When Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez declared “No to war” in response to the escalating conflict with Iran, the statement was framed as a principled stand for peace. It echoed a sentiment widely shared across Europe and the world: exhaustion with endless wars and fear of a new regional catastrophe. Yet slogans are not policies, and declarations are not actions. If we examine the political reality behind the statement, the claim does not hold up.

Three facts expose the contradiction:

1. Spain remains embedded in the military architecture of the war

A genuine “No to war” position would involve breaking with the structures that make war possible. Spain has done no such thing. The country remains a committed member of NATO, the alliance that provides the logistical, political, and strategic backbone for Western military operations. Spanish territory hosts key bases used by the United States military, including the naval base at Rota and the air base at Morón, both essential for projecting power across the Mediterranean and the Middle East. The government suspended the use of its bases for military operations related to the war in Iran.

In other words, while the Spanish government declares opposition to war rhetorically, it continues to participate in the military infrastructure that enables it. The contradiction is clear: you cannot oppose a war while materially facilitating the alliance that may wage it. If Spain were serious about preventing escalation with Iran, it would at minimum debate suspending the continuation of its bases for military operations related to the conflict. No such discussion has taken place.

2. The European diplomatic line ultimately follows Washington

Sánchez’s statement also fits a broader European pattern: rhetorical caution combined with political alignment with the United States. European governments often present themselves as moderating voices, urging restraint and dialogue. Yet when decisive moments arrive—sanctions regimes, military coordination, intelligence sharing, or logistical support—Europe falls back into line behind Washington.

This is not simply a matter of pressure from the United States. It reflects the structural reality of European security policy. For decades, the continent has relied on American military defense power through NATO. As a result, European governments have limited autonomy (as I argued before, this limitation is even codified in the article 42 of the EU) when crises emerge. Even when leaders express reservations, the framework within which they operate remains firmly Atlanticist.

Thus the phrase “No to war” becomes a diplomatic posture rather than a real political stance. It signals concern, perhaps even disagreement with aspects of U.S. policy, but it does not challenge the strategic system that produces these wars in the first place.

3. The language of peace substitutes for political action

The third problem is political. Statements like Sánchez’s function as a release valve for public opinion. Across Europe’s peoples there is deep opposition to another Middle Eastern conflict. Sánchez knows this. By adopting the language of peace, “No to war” he positions himself rhetorically alongside public sentiment. In fact the abundance of reactions all around mainstream media and social media accounts for this.

But words without action can weaken opposition rather than strengthening it. If people believe their governments already oppose war, the pressure for real change dissipates. The result is a familiar pattern: governments speak the language of peace while continuing to operate within the same military alliances, security doctrines, and geopolitical strategies that repeatedly produce conflict. The feeling of impossibility for action grows in the population while we all see the rising prices of food and oil. The perfect recipe for the far-right fascism.

In this sense, the slogan is politically convenient. It allows Sánchez to appear responsive to public concern while avoiding any truly confrontation with the structures of Western power.

A deeper contradiction

None of this means that Sánchez personally wants war. The contradiction is more systemic than individual. Social-democrats often attempt to balance two incompatible positions: remaining loyal partners within the Western alliance while presenting themselves domestically as forces for peace and diplomacy.

But when these positions collide, alliance commitments win. They always do. From the historic betrayal of the SPD in 1914 voting in favor of the war credits that enabled the catastrophe of the Great War to happen; to 1986, when the social-democrat Prime Minister of Spain, Felipe González abandoned his earlier opposition to NATO and campaigned for Spain to remain in the alliance, helping secure a ‘Yes’ victory in the referendum.

This is why the slogan “No to war” sounds reassuring but ultimately means very little without concrete measures. People is exhausted of mere slogans. On a top-down approach, refusing military participation, challenging NATO membership, or start mobilising an international diplomatic opposition would be real steps toward stopping the war. Without such actions, the declaration remains symbolic.

The real question: where does opposition come from?

At the same time, something else is happening globally. Across the world, from Europe to the United States, from Latin America to parts of the Middle East, there is a growing popular rejection of endless wars and imperial interventions. After years of devastation, the war in Ukraine has strengthened the feeling that conflicts between major powers are once again central to global politics. At the same time, tensions are escalating elsewhere, from the confrontation with Iran to renewed U.S. pressure in the Caribbean against Cuba and Venezuela, accompanied by a revival of the Monroe Doctrine and Washington’s claim to dominance in the Western Hemisphere. The memory of Iraq and Afghanistan still weighs heavily. Many people recognise the pattern: crises escalate, humanitarian language is invoked, and another war becomes inevitable.

This popular sentiment is real. It is widespread. And it has the potential to shape politics in powerful ways.

But it does not automatically translate into government action.

Democratic liberal institutions often absorb and neutralise anti-war pressure rather than expressing it. Parliamentary debate, diplomatic statements, and symbolic gestures create the appearance of opposition while leaving the underlying structures untouched. Governments like Sánchez’s can acknowledge anti-war feeling without acting on it.

The result is a widening gap between popular opinion and official policy.

There is a worldwide popular will to oppose Trump and imperialism. Pedro Sánchez will not do it. If meaningful opposition to war is going to emerge, it will likely come from below rather than above: from social movements, trade unions, anti-war networks, and international civil society rather than from cautious governments operating inside NATO frameworks.

This points to a broader political lesson. Liberal institutions alone rarely stop wars. Historically, the strongest limits on militarism have come from organised popular pressure. From the mass protests that helped end the Vietnam War to the revolutionary upheaval of 1917 in Russia, popular movements have often challenged wars that governments were determined to continue.

If the global majority truly wants to prevent another catastrophic conflict in the Middle East, or worse, a Third World War, expressions of concern from political leaders will not be enough. What is required is organized popular pressure capable of forcing governments to act differently, or replacing them with ones that will. History points to a harder lesson: societies do not become more democratic because elites choose peace, but because ordinary people organise, struggle, and rise up to transform the political order itself. Those revolutions are rarely easy and often costly, but they are the moments when societies are truly reshaped. The fight against war, against imperial domination, and for real democracy ultimately leads to the same horizon: socialism. And that is a future worth fighting for.