When historians try to understand the world of the early 21st century, they should take note of the Parsley crisis. In 2002, the government of Morocco sent 12 soldiers to a tiny island called Leila in the Straits of Gibraltar and planted its flag there.
The island is uninhabited and all that thrives on it is wild parsley, hence its Spanish name, Perejil. But its sovereignty had long been contested and the Spanish government reacted forcefully: 75 Spanish soldiers were airlifted onto the island; they pulled down the Moroccan flag, hoisted two Spanish flags and sent the Moroccans home. The Moroccan government denounced the “act of war” and Spain put its warships off the coast of Morocco.
From afar the whole affair looked like a comic opera. But someone was going to have to talk the two countries down. That role fell not to the United Nations, or to the European Union, or to France, which has good relations with both sides. It fell to the United States. “I kept thinking to myself, ‘What do I have to do with any of this?’ ” recalled Colin Powell, who was secretary of state.
Once it became clear that nothing else was working, he began a hectic round of telephone diplomacy from home on a Friday night: “I decided that I had to push for a compromise fast because otherwise pride takes over, positions harden and people get stubborn. And my grandkids were going to come over soon for a swim.”
By Saturday morning he had drafted an agreement on his home computer. He got both sides to accept it, signed for each side himself and faxed it to Spain and Morocco. They issued statements thanking the United States for helping to resolve the crisis. Powell got to go swimming with his grandkids.