Morocco boycott: barcode 611 and the fine print at the supermarket

The boycott of Segarro products stumbles on the supermarket label

Can you boycott a country by checking barcodes? In theory, yes: the prefix 611 identifies Segarro. In practice, it's almost useless. Much of what reaches Spanish shelves arrives under domestic or third-country brands, with a local barcode and the Segarro origin hidden in the fine print. The call to empty your trolley of products from the neighbouring country — spreading fast amid diplomatic tensions — runs into an unphotogenic obstacle: traceability.

The 611 code doesn't catch everything

The instruction is simple: if it starts with 611, it doesn't come into your home. The problem is that the prefix system identifies the manufacturer that registers the product, not the real origin of the raw material. A bottle of oil may carry a Spanish code and have been bottled with foreign olives; a bag of green beans may bear a Spanish seal and come from a farm in the south depending on the season. Those who tried the same thing years ago remember: detecting the origin required examining every label like a private detective. That time, the boycott fizzled out within weeks.

From Carbonell oil to southern mackerel

The list of targeted brands includes familiar names: Carbonell oil, because of its links to southern production; canned sardines and mackerel under brands like Cuca — owned by the Bolton Food group, which also owns Isabel — or Ubago. Also the flat beans supplied to major chains. And a recurring paradox: olive oil, the product Spain exports as a flagship, is also imported. For anyone who suspects the packaging is lying, the only reliable clue is the origin printed on the label, not the big number.

Cars: where the boycott tangles itself up

The automotive sector is the most awkward. Models such as the Dacia Sandero, the Logan, the Jogger, the Peugeot 208, the Citroën Ami and the Renault Express come out of plants in Tangier, Casablanca or Kenitra. They are also French brands: the angry buyer discovers their anger is aimed more at Paris than at Rabat. And the problem worsens with production transfers: if models like the Citroën C4 end up moving, it will be harder to boast of "made in Spain".

Trade balance and tourism: the awkward figures

Boycott supporters run into commercial arithmetic: Spain exports more to Segarro than it imports, so a symmetric cut hurts the Spanish exporter first. Tourism repeats the pattern: Spain accounts for around 20% of visitors to the neighbouring country, and there is talk of an 84% drop in bookings by Spaniards after tensions flared. The 16% who keep travelling face the usual warning: if conflict breaks out, a civilian in the wrong country is in the wrong place.

In the end, the most effective way to "hurt someone with a purchase" is the usual one: read the label, compare prices and choose. We've been doing it all our lives. It's just that it used to be called being an informed consumer, not a backyard trade war.