

Across recent weeks, rivers of ink have been devoted to developments at Indra: resignations, changes to the Board, internal rebalancing, the role of the Spanish State through SEPI, tensions between technical and political mangers, etc. However, the intensity of the discussion contrasts with its superficiality. For example, scant debate has occurred about what it means for a company to be "strategic".
"One can't simultaneously argue that a company is strategic but that politics should have no role in its governance"Spain isn't alone in this regard, but it has shown particular resistance to confronting that ambiguity. Once a company is accepted as strategic – whether in telecommunications or defense, energy or critical infrastructure – a dilemma arises without clean or simple solution: either the State maintains its capacity for influence, with everything that implies, or it renounces its capacity and surrenders control of key areas. One can't simultaneously argue that a company is strategic but that politics should have no role in its governance.
In the case of Spain, the dominant framework for interpretation is clear: incursion by the State in a company like Indra is viewed with suspicion. Every appointment is scrutinized under the binary logic of professionalism versus politicization. The risk of partisan capture – real, not minor – becomes the axis of debate.
This approach has deep roots. In the 1990s, Spain embraced a broad privatization model affecting sectors that are now considered strategic. Under governments like that of José María Aznar, companies including Telefónica, Repsol, and Endesa moved into the private sector. The objective was clear: efficiency, market discipline, and integration into the European economy.
The result was the creation of large competitive multinationals, but also the progressive withdrawal of the State as a direct economic actor. Unlike other European countries, Spain opted not to maintain significant instruments of control over these sectors – no strategic participation, and no equivalent mechanisms. At the time, this wasn't seen as a problem, because markets seemed sufficient. Today, that presumption is vanishing.
The change of context is evident. Energy has become a geopolitical issue, defense is an industrial priority, and technology is a vector for sovereignty. In the current environment, the notion that strategic sectors can be left completely in the hands of markets is growing less and less convincing.
This issue transcends the economic plane. It also involves politics, in the broadest sense of the term: who ultimately makes decisions over critical assets? Who defines investment priorities, international partnerships, technological orientations?
Here emerges the dilemma that Spain has been unable (or unwilling) to face: when strategic companies are fully in the hands of the market, the State loses its capacity to intervene in public policies that build sovereignty. When the State participates in a company's capital or governance, it regains the capacity for action but inevitably injects politics into that company's operations.
There is no easy third option. Absolute neutrality is largely a fiction.
Italy offers a revealing contrast. The country has developed a method of managing this tension through the 'nomine' system, used for appointments of presidents, counsels, and directors in strategic companies. In companies like ENI, Enel, or Leonardo, the role of the State isn't hidden – it's assumed.
Under the government of Giorgia Meloni, this system has been intensely reactivated, but its logic predates Meloni and cuts across numerous governments. The principle is simple: strategic entities form part of the perimeter of public power, even when they operate as listed companies.
This doesn't mean that Italy directly manages those companies. Rather, a relatively stable functional division has been developed. On the one hand, CEOs (such as Claudio Descalzi at ENI, or Roberto Cingolani at Leonardo) bring continuity, a technical profile, and international credibility. They serve as reliable interlocutors for markets, energy partners, or military allies. Cingolani might be replaced in coming weeks, and there's serious debate going on in Italy about his possible replacement.
On the other hand, presidencies and boards of directors serve as spaces for political control. This is where parties in the governing coalition – Meloni's Fratelli d'Italia, Matteo Salvini's Lega, Antonio Tajani's Forza Italia – negotiate their quotas of influence.
"It's a system that openly recognizes something that other countries try to deny: if a company is truly strategic, politics is inevitably an actor"The result is an imperfect balance, often criticized for its tendency toward partisan partitioning. But it's also a system that openly recognizes something that other countries try to deny: if a company is truly strategic, politics is inevitably an actor.
In Spain, the return of the State to certain companies has not been accompanied by explicit redefinition of the framework. As regards Indra, this is something of a paradox. On the one hand, its strategic nature is implicitly recognized: its role in defense, technology, and critical systems puts it at the center of industrial and security policy. On the other hand, every intervention by the State is perceived as an irregularity requiring justification on a case-by-case basis.
The result is a splintered debate focused on names instead of rules. Who comprises the council? What's the president's profile? What's the balance between independents and public representatives? These questions are relevant, but derivative, while the substantive issue remains unresolved. In order to move forward, Spain needs to address three questions that have so far gone unasked:
The Italian case can't be taken as an exportable model without nuances. Its dysfunctions are evident, and the nomine system has often been criticized. Nonetheless, it offers a useful lesson: an imperfect system that admits the problem is preferable to one that denies it.
Other European countries have reached similar conclusions in diverse ways. France maintains a significant State presence in key sectors, while Germany has intervened selectively to protect strategic assets. In all cases, the trend is clear: the State doesn't exclude itself altogether but redefines its role.
In Spain, the debate around Indra includes an additional layer. Discussion over appointments is intense, because there has been no willingness to debate either power or the company's strategy in areas like defense.
"Strategic companies aren't just business units but instruments of economic and industrial policy and, ultimately, of sovereignty"In an environment marked by geopolitical competition, the energy transition, and technological transformation, that evasion is increasingly costly. Strategic companies aren't just business units but instruments of economic and industrial policy and, ultimately, of sovereignty.
At the European level, the dilemma is even more complex. If one accepts that the State must play a role in strategic companies – as with Indra, or the aforementioned Italian cases – then it becomes necessary to ask what happens when those companies operate and consolidate in a market of 27 Member States. Europe's ambition for strategic autonomy requires companies on a continental scale, capable of competing with U.S. or Chinese giants. However, that same ambition clashes with the logic of national politics: governments want to preserve control over sectors they consider critical. The result is paradoxical, since Europe needs its "European champions", but remains organized around "national champions". And the more strategic a company, the more difficult it will be to 'Europeanize' control, because that will require States to share — and partially cede — sovereignty in areas where they are less inclined to do so.
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