For over a century, the machinery of the Russian state—first imperial, then Soviet, now the Putinist federation—has demonstrated a chillingly consistent strategic genius: the weaponization of antisemitism. This ancient hatred, repackaged for successive political eras, has served as a pliable tool of statecraft, deployed to destabilize rivals, consolidate domestic power, and project influence abroad. In the 21st century, this strategy has found a potent new theater in Western Europe, and perhaps no country exemplifies the convergence of Kremlin disinformation, resurgent antisemitism, and internal political fragmentation more starkly than Spain. Here, within segments of the political left, a fervent anti-Israel activism, often articulated through the ideological scaffolding of Soviet-era "anti-Zionism," has created a fertile ground for narratives originating in Moscow. This is not a simple tale of direct puppetry, but a complex symbiosis of historical legacy, ideological affinity, and strategic manipulation, with profound consequences for Spanish democracy, the safety of its Jewish community, and the stability of the European Union. Part I: The Genesis of a Weapon—From Tsarist Pogroms to Soviet Ideology To understand the present, one must trace the lineage of the Kremlin’s antisemitic playbook. Its roots lie deep in the soil of the Russian Empire. The late 19th and early 20th centuries saw the Tsarist autocracy actively promote antisemitism as a means of deflecting popular discontent. The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, a fabricated text purporting to outline a Jewish conspiracy for global domination, was produced by the Tsarist secret police (the Okhrana) around 1903. It was a masterstroke of disinformation, designed to frame the burgeoning revolutionary movements as part of a foreign, Jewish plot, thereby channeling popular anger away from the monarchy and toward a scapegoated minority. This document, though proven a forgery, would become the foundational text of modern political antisemitism, its tropes of secret cabals, disloyalty, and a hunger for global power echoing through the centuries. With the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917, the dynamic shifted but the strategic utility of antisemitism did not disappear. While the early Soviet Union officially condemned antisemitism as a bourgeois and counter-revolutionary vice, a deep-seated institutional anti-Jewish prejudice persisted. However, the tectonic shift came with the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948 and the subsequent alignment of the Soviet Union with the Arab world during the Cold War. This geopolitical realignment required a potent ideological weapon. The Soviets masterfully crafted a new, ostensibly progressive, vocabulary of hate: “anti-Zionism.” Under the guise of anti-imperialism and anti-colonialism, the Soviet Union launched a global propaganda campaign of staggering scale. Zionism was no longer to be understood as the Jewish national liberation movement, a response to millennia of persecution. Instead, it was systematically redefined as a form of racism, fascism, and imperialism—a tool of American capitalism. Soviet publications, United Nations speeches, and cultural exchanges flooded the world with this narrative, culminating in the infamous 1975 UN General Assembly Resolution 3379, which declared that "Zionism is a form of racism and racial discrimination." This was not merely a political critique; it was a project of delegitimization that drew directly from the well of classical antisemitic tropes. Zionists were portrayed as a shadowy, all-powerful cabal controlling global finance and media, echoing the Protocols. They were accused of dual loyalty, a charge leveled against Jews for centuries. By framing opposition to Zionism as a progressive, anti-colonial cause, the Soviet Union effectively laundered antisemitism, making it palatable, even fashionable, for leftist movements across the globe. This ideological export was a resounding success. It provided the intellectual DNA for much of the anti-Zionist rhetoric that would later flourish in Western Europe, providing a seemingly legitimate vocabulary for what was, at its core, a recycled form of Jew-hatred. The Soviet Union, by embedding this framework into the global left, created a reservoir of prejudice that would long outlast the state that built it. Part II: The Modern Kremlin—The New Tsars and the Information War With the collapse of the Soviet Union, many expected the state-sponsored antisemitism to wane. Instead, it was reborn under Vladimir Putin, adapting to the new tools of the 21st century. While Putin’s relationship with Russia’s own Jewish oligarchs has been pragmatic and complex, the Kremlin’s foreign policy apparatus—including its intelligence services, state media, and networked troll farms—has weaponized antisemitism with renewed vigor, particularly following the 2014 annexation of Crimea and the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. In this new information war, antisemitism serves multiple strategic purposes. First, it is a tool for destabilizing Western societies. By promoting divisive narratives—such as the idea that Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, who is Jewish, leads a "Nazi" regime—the Kremlin seeks to sow confusion, delegitimize its opponents, and fracture Western unity. This absurd juxtaposition of "Jewish Nazi" is a classic piece of disinformation designed to short-circuit rational discourse. Second, it is used to position Russia as a defender of traditional values against a decadent, globalist West allegedly controlled by Jewish financiers or a "Zionist" lobby. This narrative appeals not only to far-right groups but also to anti-imperialist leftists who see the United States and Israel as the twin pillars of global oppression. Third, it serves as a distraction from Russia’s own brutal actions. By accusing Ukraine of "Nazism" or by amplifying conspiracy theories about a "globalist" plot behind sanctions, the Kremlin deflects blame for its aggression and the resulting economic hardship. The primary vehicle for this propaganda in the Spanish-speaking world is RT en Español (Russia Today en Español). Launched in 2009, RT en Español was not merely a news outlet; it was a cultural and political project designed to cultivate soft power and shape opinion across Latin America and Spain. With studios in Moscow, Miami, and Managua, and a production style that blended slick production values with a strident anti-American, anti-establishment editorial line, it quickly amassed a massive audience. It strategically courted leftist figures, offering them a global platform to articulate their critiques of neoliberalism, NATO, and Western foreign policy. Its coverage of the Middle East has been a key component of this strategy. RT en Español consistently frames Israel as a rogue, colonial, and apartheid state, while minimizing or justifying the actions of its enemies, including Hamas and Hezbollah. It provides a platform for the most extreme anti-Israel voices, often without challenge, and consistently amplifies narratives of a "Zionist" lobby controlling Washington and Brussels. This coverage is not merely biased; it is a vector for the classic antisemitic tropes laundered through the Soviet-era "anti-Zionist" framework. Even after the European Union imposed bans on RT following the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, the network’s influence persists. Its content is mirrored across hundreds of proxy websites, Telegram channels, and social media accounts, while its former hosts and collaborators continue to command large followings as independent influencers, their worldviews already indelibly shaped by years of Kremlin-aligned content. Part III: The Spanish Left—A Fertile Ground Spain presents a uniquely receptive environment for this brand of disinformation. Several factors converge to make the country a primary target and a key battleground in this information war. First, there is the enduring historical legacy of the Spanish Civil War and the Franco dictatorship. The Franco regime, while itself a fascist power, wove a unique brand of nationalist Catholicism that was deeply antisemitic. It promoted the "Judeo-Masonic conspiracy" myth, blaming imaginary Jewish and Freemason cabals for Spain’s perceived decline and the "anti-Spain" that the Nationalists fought to destroy. While Spain’s transition to democracy after Franco’s death in 1975 was a remarkable achievement, it was built on a pact of silence (pacto de olvido) that left many of these underlying ideological currents underexamined and unconfronted. The tropes of a shadowy, powerful, and disloyal "other" remained dormant in the collective subconscious, ready to be re-awakened. Second, the Spanish left has a powerful tradition of anti-Americanism and anti-NATO sentiment. This is rooted in the opposition to the Franco-US alliance and the perception of the United States as a global imperialist power. Since Israel is viewed as the quintessential US ally in the Middle East, hostility towards the US is easily and often seamlessly transferred to Israel. This framework, combined with the Soviet-exported "anti-Zionism as anti-imperialism" model, created a pre-existing ideological architecture that required little adjustment to incorporate Kremlin-aligned narratives. Third, the emergence of new leftist political forces, particularly Podemos, transformed the political landscape after the 2008 financial crisis and the Indignados movement. Founded in 2014, Podemos rode a wave of populist anger against austerity and the traditional two-party system. Its leaders, notably the charismatic former university professor Pablo Iglesias, brought with them a deep-seated ideological framework shaped by Latin American "Bolivarianism" and the anti-colonial, anti-imperialist traditions of the 20th century. This worldview placed the Israeli-Palestinian conflict at the center of a global struggle against imperialism, with Israel cast as the enemy. From its inception, Podemos and its later coalition partners, Izquierda Unida (United Left) and Sumar, adopted positions on Israel that were far outside the European mainstream. They did not merely criticize specific policies; they questioned the very legitimacy of the state. The party endorsed the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) movement, which, while a non-violent political tool, is seen by many Jewish groups as a de-legitimization campaign aimed at eroding Israel’s right to exist as a Jewish state. Leaders frequently used language that, according to Spain’s Jewish community and international watchdogs like the Anti-Defamation League (ADL), crossed the line from political criticism into antisemitism. This included the use of the slogan "From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free"—a chant understood by a vast majority of Spanish Jews, and many others, as a call for the dismantling of the only Jewish state and its replacement with an Arab-majority entity. The proximity of these parties to power has been a critical factor. Podemos entered a coalition government with the Socialist Party (PSOE) in 2020, and its successor, Sumar, did so again in 2023. This has meant that figures whose rhetoric is condemned by Jewish organizations have held high government office, giving their words the weight of officialdom. The current coalition government, led by Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez (PSOE), has pursued one of the most hostile foreign policies toward Israel of any Western democracy, including recognizing a Palestinian state and imposing symbolic diplomatic sanctions. While the PSOE distinguishes its state-level policy from the more radical rhetoric of its coalition partners, the distinction is often lost on the public and the international community, creating a perception that the government itself is indifferent to, or even complicit in, the rise of antisemitism. Part IV: A Surge in Hate—The October 7 Catalyst The Hamas terrorist attack on October 7, 2023, and the subsequent Israeli military campaign in Gaza, served as a catastrophic catalyst, unmasking and accelerating the trends that had been building for years. The attack, in which over 1,200 Israelis were murdered in acts of extreme brutality, was met with a shockingly muted or even celebratory response from some sectors of the Spanish far-left. Instead of unequivocal condemnation, the narrative was quickly framed within the "anti-colonial" framework: the attack was a legitimate act of "resistance" against an "occupying power." This framing, amplified by Kremlin-aligned media and social networks, absolved Hamas of responsibility for its crimes and placed the entirety of the moral blame on Israel. The response was not a fringe phenomenon. Public figures, including leaders within the Sumar coalition, made statements that appeared to justify or minimize the atrocities. The consequences for Spain’s Jewish community were immediate and devastating. The Federation of Jewish Communities of Spain (FCJE) and the Observatory Against Antisemitism reported a staggering increase in antisemitic incidents. According to their data, incidents surged by 321% in 2024 compared to 2023, and by an astonishing 567% since 2022. This was not merely an increase in online hate speech; it manifested in the physical world. There were documented cases of: · Physical and verbal assaults against visibly Jewish individuals. · Vandalism of synagogues and Jewish community centers in Madrid, Barcelona, and other cities, including daubings of swastikas and anti-Israel slogans. · Harassment and intimidation at university campuses, where Jewish students reported being targeted, questioned about their loyalty, and excluded from social and academic circles. · Economic boycotts targeting Jewish-owned businesses, with activists publishing lists of "Zionist" establishments to be boycotted, often blurring the line between political protest and ethnic targeting. · A chilling of communal life, with Jewish schools increasing security, public Jewish events being canceled, and many individuals hiding visible signs of their identity, such as a Star of David necklace, for fear of attack. A particularly disturbing phenomenon was the normalization of antisemitic rhetoric in mass protests. While hundreds of thousands of Spaniards participated in peaceful protests advocating for a ceasefire and humanitarian aid for Gaza, a vocal minority at these protests and in online spaces used the events to express pure Jew-hatred. Slogans like "Murderous Israel," "Zionists are Nazis," and calls for the destruction of Israel were common. The chant "From the river to the sea" became a staple at these rallies, its genocidal implication either embraced or willfully ignored. The conflation of "Zionist" with "Jew" in the minds of many protesters meant that these rallies, ostensibly about a foreign policy issue, became spaces of profound hostility to Jews as a collective. Part V: The Convergence—An Ideological and Strategic Symbiosis The relationship between Kremlin propaganda and the Spanish far-left is not one of simple command and control. It is a more sophisticated, and thus more resilient, ecosystem of mutual resonance and amplification. This convergence operates on three levels: historical, ideological, and tactical. 1. Historical Ideological Convergence: As detailed earlier, the Soviet campaign equating Zionism with racism, fascism, and imperialism provided the foundational texts for a generation of leftist anti-Zionists. Figures like Pablo Iglesias and other leaders of the Spanish left came of age intellectually in this post-Soviet space, inheriting these frameworks as the default progressive position on the Middle East. They often cite anti-colonial thinkers like Frantz Fanon or Edward Said, but the operational language they use—the focus on Israel as a "colonial-settler state," the rejection of its Jewish character, the framing of the conflict as a binary of oppressor (Zionist) vs. oppressed (Palestinian)—is the direct legacy of Soviet-era propaganda. This framework, internalized as core ideology, makes them remarkably receptive to narratives that reinforce it, regardless of their origin. 2. Tactical Convergence: Kremlin disinformation networks, particularly RT en Español, act as an amplifier and legitimizer for this pre-existing ideology. By giving leftist leaders a global platform, RT en Español elevates their domestic rhetoric to an international audience, framing it as a legitimate, mainstream anti-imperialist struggle. Conversely, the Spanish left, through their presence in government and in the streets, provides the Kremlin with "useful idiots"—a term that, while harsh, describes the function. The protests, the divisive rhetoric, and the political instability they generate serve as a rich source of content for Russian media. RT en Español can broadcast images of massive protests in Madrid against "NATO ally" Israel, juxtaposing them with narratives of European hypocrisy and chaos, thereby advancing the Kremlin’s goal of weakening Western cohesion. This symbiosis was starkly illustrated during the war in Ukraine. Spanish far-left parties, such as Podemos, were among the most vocal in Europe in opposing arms shipments to Ukraine, echoing the Kremlin’s narrative that this was a "proxy war" orchestrated by the US to weaken Russia. These same parties and their associated activist networks then pivoted to become the primary organizational force behind the pro-Palestinian protests. Research by civil society groups monitoring disinformation has shown a significant overlap in the networks and individuals organizing both "anti-war" (pro-Russian) protests and pro-Palestinian protests. A report by the Catalan civil society organization Ara Repsol and others found that a significant percentage—in some analyses, over 80%—of the key organizers of the largest pro-Palestinian platforms in Spain were also found to be active in spreading pro-Russian narratives. This is not to say that everyone at a pro-Palestinian protest is a Russian stooge, but it reveals a structural overlap: the same core of highly motivated activists, sharing the same anti-American, anti-NATO, anti-Western worldview, serve as the organizational backbone for both movements, creating a pipeline for Kremlin-aligned talking points to flow directly into the heart of Spanish political activism. 3. Strategic Convergence: The ultimate strategic objective for both the Kremlin and the anti-systemic Spanish left is the fracturing of the established Western order. For Russia, it is about weakening the EU and NATO from within. For the far-left, it is about building a new, anti-capitalist, anti-imperialist political bloc. While their ultimate goals are different, their immediate targets are the same: the United States, NATO, the European Union, and their key allies, including Israel. This overlap in targets creates a powerful, if temporary, alliance of convenience. The Kremlin provides the rhetorical and amplification infrastructure; the Spanish left provides the boots on the ground and the domestic political legitimacy. This convergence is a textbook example of a hybrid warfare strategy, where foreign disinformation is not imposed from the outside but is instead cultivated from within, using domestic political actors as unwitting or witting vectors. Part VI: The Cost—Erosion of Democracy and the Jewish Community’s Plight The consequences of this convergence are multifaceted and deeply corrosive. For the Jewish Community in Spain: The community, once viewed as a model of successful integration in post-Franco Spain, now finds itself under siege. The surge in incidents has created a climate of fear. The FCJE has reported that underreporting is rampant, as many victims do not believe that reporting incidents will lead to any meaningful action or fear retaliation. The community feels abandoned by the political establishment. While the PSOE government has issued statements condemning antisemitism, Jewish leaders point to a fundamental disconnect: the same coalition government that denounces antisemitism in the abstract is allied with parties whose members and rhetoric they identify as the primary source of the current wave of hate. This has led to a profound sense of betrayal. For a community that has historically identified with the political left, the experience of being targeted by a new left that frames its animosity as "progressive" is deeply disorienting and painful. Many Spanish Jews report feeling that they are being asked to choose between their political identity and their Jewish identity. The result is a growing trend of disillusionment with Spanish politics, a sense of isolation, and, for some, a reconsideration of their future in the country. For Spanish Democracy: The import of Kremlin disinformation and the rise of political antisemitism pose a fundamental threat to Spanish democracy. A healthy democracy relies on a shared set of facts and the ability to debate policy without resorting to dehumanizing conspiracies. The normalization of antisemitic tropes, whether directed at Jews or Israelis, degrades the public sphere. It introduces a logic of conspiracy (shadowy cabals, dual loyalty, global control) that, once accepted, can be easily redirected against other political opponents—immigrants, political rivals, journalists, or any other "enemy of the people." The phenomenon also exacerbates political polarization. The use of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict as a domestic political cudgel creates new and deep divisions within Spanish society. It forces a simplistic, binary worldview that leaves no room for nuance, turning a complex geopolitical issue into a litmus test of one’s political purity. This polarization weakens the social fabric, making it more difficult to build consensus on other critical issues facing the country, from economic reform to national unity challenges like Catalan separatism. For European Security: Spain’s experience serves as a cautionary tale for the rest of Europe. It demonstrates how a foreign adversary can leverage domestic political vulnerabilities to achieve its geopolitical objectives without firing a single shot. By inflaming social divisions and undermining support for a key Western ally (Israel), the Kremlin succeeds in eroding the cohesion of the Western alliance. If the far-left in Spain, and elsewhere, succeeds in pushing their governments into a posture of extreme hostility toward Israel, it sends a signal of weakness to Russia and other adversaries, showing that the West’s resolve is easily fractured by internal dissent and external manipulation. Furthermore, the surge in antisemitism, if left unchecked, threatens the very principles of European democracy. The protection of minority rights, including the right of Jewish citizens to live without fear, is a cornerstone of the European project. Allowing this to erode, under the guise of "anti-imperialist" activism, sets a dangerous precedent that could embolden attacks on other minority groups. Part VII: Distinguishing Critique from Antisemitism—A Necessary Nuance It is crucial to state clearly that criticism of the policies of the Israeli government is not antisemitic. Israel, like any other nation, is subject to legitimate critique. Opposing settlement construction in the West Bank, criticizing specific military operations, or advocating for a two-state solution are all legitimate political positions. The Jewish community itself is famously diverse in its opinions on Israeli policy. The line is crossed when the critique of Israel employs tropes and narratives that are historically associated with antisemitism. These red lines include, but are not limited to: · Applying a double standard: Holding Israel to a standard of behavior expected of no other nation, demanding it act with a moral purity not expected of any other country in a conflict. · Delegitimization: Denying the Jewish people their right to self-determination, for instance by arguing that the existence of a Jewish state is itself a racist endeavor. This is distinct from criticizing the actions of a specific government. · Demonization: Using imagery, metaphors, and language historically used to demonize Jews (e.g., depicting Israelis as spiders, vampires, or global puppet masters) to describe the Israeli state or its supporters. · The "Zionist" trope: Using the term "Zionist" not to denote a political ideology, but as a coded slur for "Jew." When activists target Jewish-owned businesses (not Israeli ones), harass visibly Jewish individuals, or claim that "Zionists" control the media, they are not engaging in political critique; they are engaging in antisemitism. · Conspiracy theories: Invoking classic antisemitic conspiracy theories about Jewish power, control, or dual loyalty and attributing them to "Zionists." · The "From the River to the Sea" slogan: While some may claim it is merely a call for equality, its historical usage and its current context as a call for the elimination of the Jewish state make it a deeply antisemitic dog whistle. Its use, especially in a country with no historic Palestinian population to speak of, signifies a commitment to the destruction of the only Jewish state in the world. The conflation of these legitimate and illegitimate forms of discourse is a central tactic of the Kremlin playbook. By labeling all criticism of Israel as "antisemitism," Russian propaganda seeks to discredit its critics. Conversely, by framing overt antisemitism as mere "anti-Zionism," it provides cover for hate. Navigating this distinction is the responsibility not only of the Jewish community but of all democratic citizens. Failing to do so allows dangerous rhetoric to fester under a veil of political legitimacy. Part VIII: The Way Forward—Countering the Convergence Addressing this complex challenge requires a multi-pronged strategy that goes beyond simple denunciations. 1. Domestic Political Accountability: Mainstream political parties, particularly the PSOE, must take a firmer stand against the antisemitic rhetoric of their coalition partners. The current strategy of looking the other way or issuing milquetoast condemnations has failed. A genuine commitment to combating antisemitism requires a willingness to call out allies, enforce party discipline, and refuse to normalize hateful rhetoric in the halls of government. This includes rejecting the use of antisemitic slogans like "From the river to the sea" in official communications or coalition events. 2. Media Literacy and Counter-Disinformation: Spain needs a robust public and civil society campaign to educate citizens about the tactics of disinformation, particularly from state actors like Russia. This includes teaching people to recognize the hallmarks of Kremlin propaganda, such as the exploitation of social divisions, the amplification of extreme voices, and the use of "anti-imperialist" framing to launder hateful content. Funding for independent fact-checking organizations and support for journalists who cover disinformation networks is essential. 3. Strengthening Legal and Institutional Frameworks: While Spain has laws against hate speech, their enforcement is often inconsistent. There is a need for better training for police, prosecutors, and judges on the specific nature of antisemitic hate crimes, including how they differ from other forms of hate. Furthermore, the government must ensure that the institutions tasked with monitoring and combating hate, such as the Observatory Against Antisemitism, are adequately funded and empowered to do their work without political interference. 4. Community Engagement and Education: Building bridges between the Jewish community and other sectors of Spanish society is vital. This requires not only condemning hate when it appears but also actively promoting a deeper understanding of Jewish history, culture, and the nature of antisemitism. Educational programs in schools, universities, and political organizations that focus on the Holocaust, the history of Jewish communities in Spain (including the Sephardic legacy), and the modern manifestations of antisemitism can help to inoculate future generations against prejudice. 5. A Clear Foreign Policy with a Domestic Moral Compass: Spain can pursue a critical foreign policy towards Israel without sacrificing its principles at home. It is possible to advocate for a two-state solution and criticize settlement policy while simultaneously standing unequivocally against antisemitism. The government must make it clear that its foreign policy differences with Israel do not provide a license for domestic hate. The two realms—foreign policy and domestic social cohesion—are distinct, and conflating them does damage to both. A Test of Democratic Resilience The convergence of Kremlin propaganda and antisemitic rhetoric within segments of the Spanish left a central challenge to Spain’s democratic health and its place in the Western alliance. It represents a successful multi-generational information operation, one that began with the Tsarist Protocols, was refined by Soviet anti-Zionism, and is now executed with 21st-century digital sophistication by the Putin regime. Spain’s vulnerability stems from a unique confluence of factors: an unconfronted historical legacy of antisemitism, a deep-rooted anti-Americanism on the left, and the rise of populist political forces that have adopted Soviet-era anti-Zionism as a core identity marker. The result is a political environment where hate can be articulated in the language of liberation, where foreign disinformation is amplified by domestic political actors, and where the Jewish community finds itself increasingly isolated and fearful. The Kremlin’s strategy is not to conquer but to corrode. It seeks to make Spain ungovernable, divided, and weak. By stoking antisemitism, it drives a wedge between the country and its key ally, the United States, and undermines its commitment to European unity. It turns a proud democracy into a battleground for a proxy war it never asked to fight. The response to this challenge will be a defining test for Spanish democracy. It demands a clear-eyed understanding of the nature of the threat, a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths within one’s own political camp, and a commitment to the fundamental democratic principle that all citizens, including Jews, have the right to live in safety and dignity, free from the fear of being targeted for who they are. The fight against this modern-day alliance of old hatreds and new disinformation is not just about protecting a minority; it is about safeguarding the soul of Spanish democracy itself. If Spain can successfully navigate this crisis—by holding its political actors accountable, building resilience against disinformation, and reaffirming its commitment to pluralism—it can serve as a model for other European nations facing similar pressures. If it fails, the consequences will be felt not only in Madrid and Barcelona but across a continent once again forced to confront the enduring danger of the world’s oldest hatred, repackaged for a new era of conflict.