Morocco: Dozens of our young people are drowning at sea. A comprehensive social alternative is no longer a luxury, but an urgent necessity.
First published at Fourth International.
The provisional death toll announced for the tragedy off the coast of Ceuta stands at over sixty, all victims of forced migration. We are not facing a conventional war here, where shells rain down and gunfire rings out, but a daily social war — seemingly silent, yet bloody in its consequences — which claims the lives of the most destitute and drives young people to risk their lives on the very brink of death.
The actual number of victims will undoubtedly be higher than that reported. As for the injured, the missing, and the survivors who will bear the scars of this trauma for the rest of their lives, as well as the mothers whose hearts have been broken by the loss of their children, no statistics can do justice to their tragedy, and no official statement dares to acknowledge its full extent.
The fundamental question is not: ‘How did these people die?’, but: ‘Why were they driven, in the first place, towards this fate?’
Who is responsible for this social massacre that has been going on for years? Who is responsible for the fact that the sea washes up corpses one after another, and that fishermen’s nets bring up the bodies of the drowned instead of the bounty of the sea? Who is responsible for a homeland where thousands of young people have come to regard emigration, whatever the risks, as a fate preferable to that of staying?
This tragedy is not the result of individual choices or mere short-term mismanagement. It is rather the product of an economic and political structure based on dependence on global capital and international financial institutions, which, through debt, imposes austerity policies, privatisation and market liberalisation, deepening dependence, unemployment and precariousness, whilst dismantling public services. This situation makes emigration, for large sections of the youth, one of the few possible ways out. Debt is not merely a matter of figures in a budget, but a mechanism designed to subordinate public policies to external diktats, in which debt servicing and investors’ profits take precedence over the right to work, education, healthcare, housing and a life of dignity.
A few days ago, official reports and those from international financial institutions were published, celebrating ‘economic achievements’ and presenting indicators of growth and stability as if they were proof of the success of current policies. But what sort of success is this, when millions of citizens are facing unemployment, precarious living conditions and despair? And what sort of development is this, if it drives people to flee their homeland or die at its borders?
This tragedy is, moreover, inextricably linked to the nature of the current political regime, which has chosen to position itself as a key partner in Europe’s imperialist strategy of sealing borders and blocking migration, in exchange for political and financial support. Instead of guaranteeing citizens the right to a life of dignity, a growing proportion of the security and military apparatus is being mobilised to act as ‘border police’, as part of foreign policies aimed at protecting Europe from migrants, rather than protecting peoples’ right to development, freedom and free movement.
This security role abroad goes hand in hand with a repressive policy at home. The regime cracks down on youth protests and social movements, restricts freedom of association and expression, and persecutes journalists, bloggers and activists. It responds to protests by Generation Z and other movements with arrests and trials rather than addressing their demands. It denies young people any prospect of participation or change, and thus drives many of them to see emigration — with all its risks — as the only way out. Forced emigration and political repression are two sides of the same coin: a policy that deprives people of any right to a future.
Reality highlights the stark contrast between the narrative of official figures and people’s actual lives. Profits and wealth accumulate in the hands of a minority that monopolises privileges and resources, and the profits of large corporations and speculators continue to rise. Meanwhile the circle of poverty and marginalisation is widening, living and working conditions are deteriorating, and the majority of the population is forced to bear the cost of policies that do not serve their interests.
That is why the answer to these tragedies does not lie in mere lamentations, nor in increased repression, nor in the hermetic sealing of borders, but in a radical change to the policies that give rise to poverty, marginalisation and forced exile. We need to establish a social and popular balance of power capable of imposing a comprehensive alternative. This alternative must break with dependency, cancel illegitimate debts and establish popular sovereignty over wealth and economic decisions. It must also guarantee the right to decent work and a decent income, to education, healthcare, housing and democratic freedoms. We also need to channel national wealth towards meeting society’s needs rather than towards the enrichment of a privileged minority and serving the interests of local and foreign capital.
Those who sow poverty, exploitation, dependence and despotism can only reap resistance and struggle. Indeed, any widening of social inequalities breeds greater discontent, and any intensification of exploitation, as well as any restriction of freedoms, fuels the desire for change. History teaches us that when people become aware of the link between economic exploitation, political despotism and dependency, and when they organise themselves, they become capable of securing their rights and bringing about a fairer and more dignified future.
The global social and democratic alternative is not a dream to be put off until later, but a necessity imposed by the blood of the victims, the suffering of mothers and the squandering of the future of entire generations. With every day that this alternative is delayed, the cost of the human and social tragedy grows heavier, whilst only workers and the poor pay the price.
Our people will only begin to chart their course towards genuine social justice and freedom when their social resistance leads to the rebuilding of struggle organisations endowed with great perseverance, with a view to addressing the following key demands:
- An end to the criminalisation of activist action and the release of all detainees from social movements, foremost among them the activists of the Hirak du Rif and young people of Generation Z, and the suspension of all legal proceedings against journalists, bloggers, artists and singers.
- The elimination of all forms of precarious work in the private sector, through the regularisation of all workers, an end to the abusive use of fixed-term contracts, and the abolition of subcontracting and labour agencies.
- An increase in the minimum wage to 5,000 dirhams in private-sector companies, whether in the agricultural, industrial, commercial or service sectors.
- The abandonment of all policies and measures aimed at transforming social services, particularly health and education, into market-based services subject to private-sector logic, through the following means:
- Reaffirming the principle of free healthcare and hospitalisation by repealing the decree imposing the payment of healthcare fees,
- Abolishing all tax breaks, as well as all concessions and authorisations granted to private companies enabling them to monopolise the health and education sectors.
- Putting an end to the land and water grab.
- Put an end to the monopoly of large capitalist companies over our mineral wealth. These resources must be taken back from the major capitalist groups and their management must be ensured by public enterprises under popular control.
- Abandon price liberalisation, particularly for foodstuffs, essential goods and pharmaceuticals, by repealing the law that liberalises them. Introduce mechanisms to protect the domestic market and small-scale production against cyclical price fluctuations. This entails introducing other mechanisms to protect workers’ purchasing power, such as an index-linked system for prices and wages, as well as maintaining the fund to support essential goods.
- A thorough overhaul of the tax system to establish a fair regime, one that no longer places the bulk of the tax burden on workers and the working classes, as is currently the case, whilst the wealthiest — holders of financial capital, large corporations and speculators — benefit from tax exemptions. This overhaul must be based on the introduction of a genuinely progressive tax system.
Anticapitalistas (Spanish State): On the Ceuta tragedy
First published in Spanish at Anticapitalistas Facebook page. Translation by Federico Fuentes for LINKS International Journal of Socialist Renewal.
As the hours pass, the Ceuta tragedy takes on a greater dimension. There are already reports of more than 90 deaths, and this number will only rise in the coming hours. That is the first point we want to emphasise: the cruelty of the border regime in North Africa directly leads to the loss of lives among the poorest and most vulnerable sectors of the global population. Faced with the indifference and dehumanisation this system offers us, we want to make clear this is, above all, an unjust tragedy that has taken human lives.
These deaths add to the hundreds of lives lost each year in the mass grave that the Mediterranean Sea has become. Lives lost due to a border regime promoted by the European Union and the Spanish State, with the State of Morocco’s complicity.
The Alawi regime and oligarchy that governs Morocco obviously bears a great responsibility for this tragedy. They exploit their people’s tragic situation for their own benefit, encouraging certain movements of people to serve their interests. Their ties to the United States and Israel are well known, as is their long-running conflict with Algeria. The Moroccan regime is a repulsive dictatorship that does not hesitate to colonise Western Sahara and repress peoples like the Rif, as well as protests by its own population.
However, the fact that the Alawi regime has exploited its people’s desperation for its own interests should not obscure the reality of the situation. Many people, driven to desperation by poverty and a lack of opportunities, try to migrate to imperialist countries in search of a better life. Impoverished by neocolonialism and local oligarchies, these people are not an invading army: they are part of the global proletariat and, from a class perspective, deserve our solidarity and humanity. Those on the left who today question this and take a one-sided view, reducing the situation to a simple conspiracy, only seek to whitewash the Spanish State’s and EU’s responsibility in the whole drama. Back in June 2022, Spain’s progressive coalition government launched an offensive that, together with Moroccan forces, left 22 people dead and hundreds missing in the Melilla border tragedy.
Today, militaristic rhetoric tends to dominate public debate. Rhetoric based on concepts such as “invasion” or “violation of national sovereignty” reflects the extent to which the ideas that the right and far right seek to impose on society as a whole have even permeated sectors that consider themselves progressive.
The EU and Spanish State (governed by the “most progressive government in history”) have outsourced much of its border protection to the Moroccan regime while legitimising its colonisation of Western Sahara, thereby abandoning the Sahrawi people’s historic struggle. But that is not all. The Spanish State and EU are members of NATO, an imperialist and militaristic bloc that, despite its tensions with the US, is part of the same network of domination over the peoples and countries of the Global South. The enrichment of European and Spanish capitalists is based on a combination of exploiting their own working class as well as those of post-colonial countries, and the plundering of their lands and economies. Therefore, framing this as a dispute along nationalist lines fails to recognise the complex power relations imposed by imperialism, and incites a conflict that could lead to war.
Faced with confrontation between working classes along national lines, we must be clear and point out that the economic and political elites of both countries benefit from this situation. Borders do not prevent migration: they only make it more cruel and discipline migrants. They create better conditions for capitalists to overexploit migrants, thus lowering the standard of living for the entire working class. Spanish capitalists shamelessly take advantage of this situation, profiting from low wages to maintain profits.
This relationship also has a very concrete economic expression. Large companies such as Acciona, Indra, and Repsol, along with financial institutions such as Santander, profit from the exploitation of resources in occupied Western Sahara and from sustaining the Moroccan economic model. Meanwhile, Morocco remains a key player for France, Spain, and the US as a supplier of cheap labour for agriculture, the care industry, and the service sector. Behind the rhetoric of good neighborliness lies an alliance built on economic, geopolitical, and business interests, in which tensions and divergent interests sometimes surface, but which ultimately responds to the same systemic model and same class interests.
Our position is clear. We defend legal and safe pathways for migration and an end to border militarisation, prioritising migrants’ human rights. This would prevent humanitarian catastrophes and the use of migration as a tool for blackmail. We consistently combat racism and advocate for unified organisation of the working classes, regardless of their country of origin. We denounce and fight against the economic interests and political systems of the Spanish and Moroccan states, and believe only solidarity among peoples can resolve the underlying problems.
We are also not naive. Under the capitalist and imperialist system, we can win some improvements, and fighting for them is fundamental to avoiding falling into the abyss. However, only by transforming this system along socialist and internationalist lines, and establishing federative, solidarity-based, and associative relationships among peoples that are not mediated by the economic and geopolitical interests of a few, can we establish truly safe and open forms of freedom of movement. While we fight for this, we must uncompromisingly defend the human rights of all migrants and identify and combat the ruling classes of all countries, who are responsible for this tragic situation.
Therefore, to improve the balance of power here and now, we believe it is essential to fight for:
• The repeal of the Immigration Law.
• An end to the European Pact on Migration and Asylum and the dismantling of Frontex.
• An immediate strengthening of the migrant reception system.
• An end to “hot returns” [where migrants are returned without any processing or opportunity to claim asylum].
In the face of border cruelty, racism, and conflict between peoples: internationalist and class solidarity!
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The Ceuta Operation: Washington Wrote the Script in March, Morocco Ran It in July
Seventy-two bodies came out of the water at Tarajal, and the sea kept giving some of them back through the weekend. They drowned in sight of Europe, in the fourteen-kilometer channel where the Mediterranean meets the Atlantic, reaching for a seven-square-mile scrap of Spain on the African shore. Most were young men. Some were children. They died over three days at the end of July, crushed against a breakwater barrier or pulled under while swimming around it, and within forty-eight hours of the last of them entering the water more than forty-eight thousand of the living had turned and walked back into Morocco.
Between fifty and sixty thousand people crossed into Ceuta in seventy-two hours. The enclave holds about ninety thousand. In three days its population rose by seventy percent and then drained away, a tide come in and gone out on command. Spain’s prime minister called the crossing an attack and a violation of the country’s territorial integrity, and sent in the army.
Tides do not take instruction. States do. A crowd of sixty thousand does not gather the way weather gathers. It gathers because people are told where and when, because they travel, some of them from the far side of a country, because they arrive together, and because the security apparatus of one of the most heavily policed states in North Africa elects not to stop them. Each of those is a decision, and the decisions were Rabat’s to make.
The men who died did not come from the towns nearest the fence. They came from across Morocco, converging on Fnideq, the border town facing Ceuta, because the summons to gather there ran ahead of them across the social networks in the days before. Moroccan outlets described the convocation without embarrassment: an intense digital campaign calling young men to the border, Facebook groups passing along the swimming route around the barrier, people arriving from every part of the country within hours. None of it was concealed. In a state whose services read the networks as closely as any in the region, none of it went unseen.
The proof that this was a decision, and not a flood, lies eleven months back. In September 2024 the identical summons went out, the same calls, the same crowds, the same town, and Moroccan riot police dispersed them night after night until the attempt broke apart. The border held that year because Rabat had decided it would hold. The apparatus that closed it in 2024 did not evaporate before July 2026. It stood aside. At the fence last week, reporters from the Ceuta daily El Faro watched Moroccan soldiers wave the men through, and set down the obvious: a crossing on this scale was impossible unless the cordons let it happen. The Spanish police unions used a harder word than passivity. They called it blackmail, a pressure operation proper to a hybrid war.
Then the kingdom proved what it had chosen not to do. The moment Rabat judged the operation finished, it assembled overnight a fleet of buses and carried the crowds out of Fnideq to cities across the country, quickly and without incident. A government that can charter a bus fleet on a Friday night to empty a border town could have closed the road into it on the Wednesday. It did not close the road. The passivity was not weakness. It was the weapon.
The trucks belong in the record, and belong there carefully. Footage circulated of young men delivered toward the border in trucks while Moroccan agents looked on, and the footage became the crisis’s central image. Spain’s fact-checkers at Newtral could not geo-locate the main unloading clip to Ceuta and found AI-forged fakes moving in the same stream, while Moroccan state media labored to recast the same footage as an interception rather than a release. The clips are contested, and the contest is the evidence. Organized transport was filmed in the presence of the security forces, and a state apparatus moved in real time to govern how that transport was seen. The logistics and the management of the image ran on one clock. That is the signature of an operation, not a stampede.
The method had been set down in advance, in Washington, in the spring. On the twelfth of March, Michael Rubin, senior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute, former Pentagon official, called on Donald Trump and Marco Rubio, through the Middle East Forum, to recognize Ceuta and Melilla as occupied Moroccan territory. Spain, he wrote, “remains a colonial power, running colonies across the Strait of Gibraltar on the northern coast of Morocco.” The grievance he named was not colonial injustice. It was that Sánchez had just recalled Spain’s ambassador from Israel and kept silent on Iran. Recognition would right a historical wrong, Rubin argued, on the model of Trump’s first-term recognition of Moroccan sovereignty over the Western Sahara, the transaction that bought Rabat’s signature on the Abraham Accords. The enclaves were the nearest lever, and he pulled it.
Four days on, he turned from Washington to Rabat. Morocco should gather, he wrote, send bulldozers to the border, and enter the two enclaves unarmed to raise the flag, the 1975 Green March run a second time, when Hassan II walked 350,000 civilians into the Spanish Sahara. And he answered the one objection that matters before anyone could raise it. An assault on the enclaves would not summon NATO, because Article 6 of the alliance treaty excludes territory south of the Tropic of Cancer. “Neither Ceuta, Melilla, nor the Canary Islands would trigger a NATO response,” he wrote, “just as NATO would not need respond to an attack on Hawaii or Puerto Rico.” A former Pentagon man had put the method on the page, unarmed masses moving on the fences, and priced the alliance’s silence into it beforehand. That is not opinion. It is a man who has thought through the morning after and wants it known the matter is in hand.
Within a month the method had a sponsor inside the United States government. On the first of April, Mario Díaz-Balart, Republican of Florida, chairman of the House subcommittee that funds American diplomacy, among the closest congressional allies of the Secretary of State, told the Spanish daily El Español that the enclaves are not “in the geographic territory of Spain” but “in the territory of Morocco,” their fate to be “established, negotiated, and discussed between friends and allies.” In three weeks the annexation of two pieces of Europe had travelled from a think-tank column to the chair of an appropriations subcommittee. It had stopped being commentary. It was policy learning its lines.
Why Spain, and why now, Trump has put on the record more than once and taken no trouble to disguise. In the spring Madrid refused the United States the use of the Rota and Morón bases for the strikes on Iran, holding that the war had no footing in international law, then closed its airspace to the American aircraft flying the campaign. Sánchez called the war an extraordinary mistake. And Spain stood alone among the allies in rejecting NATO’s new five-percent spending target. For each of these Trump promised to make Madrid pay, by name and out loud. In October he vowed to make Spain pay “twice as much” in trade, adding, “I’m actually serious about that.” In March, after the airspace closure, he said Spain “has been terrible” and would face a total trade cutoff. In July, at the Ankara summit, he called it a wasted cause: “Cut off all trade with Spain, please, including visits.”
The threat kept breaking against the same wall. Trade for Spain is settled in Brussels, by the European Commission, for all twenty-seven at once. No American president can tariff Spain alone; he can only strike the Union, which bargains as a bloc precisely so that none of its members can be cut from the herd. The weapon Trump reached for was blunted by the very thing that makes Europe Europe. What remained to him was a pressure Brussels could not intercept, a border belonging to Spain and to no one else, facing a kingdom that owed Washington for the Western Sahara and wanted the enclaves for its own. The tariff was taken off the table. The border was what lay on it.
That three actors wanted the same thing does not prove they moved together, except that in April the design was set out in full in the Israeli press, not as anyone’s inference but as the author’s own plan. On the twenty-fifth, Ynet, among Israel’s largest news sites, carried an analysis by Amine Ayoub, a fellow of the same Middle East Forum that ran Rubin’s appeals, under a title that hides nothing: “Abraham Accords reach the Strait: how Israel can help Morocco reclaim its north.” Spain’s refusal of the bases, its NATO record, Sánchez’s posture, these, Ayoub wrote, had opened a genuine crack in Spain’s strategic armor over the enclaves, and into it Israel, Morocco’s consequential new partner, was “uniquely positioned to press.” He set out three channels by which Israel could carry Rabat’s claim: direct diplomatic signaling, amplification through Washington’s corridors, and the public shaming of Spain for recognizing a Palestinian state while holding African ground four centuries older than Israel.
Then Ayoub wrote the line that closes the distance between all of it. To help Morocco take the enclaves, he argued, would serve the Abraham Accords and punish a NATO member that had chosen obstruction over partnership at the alliance’s most critical hour. Punish, his word, not an interpreter’s. He named the prize as well: Morocco, across the Strait of Gibraltar, holds the key to one of the world’s vital maritime chokepoints. The same piece set down the scaffolding beneath the claim. The Abraham Accords had turned Morocco from a quiet interlocutor into a formal military partner of Israel, the two signing a joint military work plan in January 2026. Washington designates Morocco a Major Non-NATO Ally and has signed a fresh ten-year defense roadmap with Rabat, even as it threatens to suspend from the alliance the ally that will neither fund nor serve it. And it noted what the other reports had noted: an internal Pentagon email, reported by Reuters in April, weighing suspension of Spain from NATO outright, and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth’s open contempt for the European allies who declined to join the campaign in the Strait of Hormuz.
So the network narrates its own logic in the open. A think-tank fellow writes the method and disarms the alliance objection. A congressman close to the Secretary of State ratifies the territorial claim. An allied newspaper, through a second fellow of the same institute, casts the whole thing as a punishment of Spain and names the chokepoint as the reward. No order need be cut, no meeting held, no cable sent. The incentive was published, in English, across three countries, over six weeks in the spring, and every party that needed to read what Washington would reward could read it. The crossing was a market answering a price posted in plain view.
Then watch what the authors of the price did with the dead. Within hours of the breach the United States State Department blamed not Rabat, which had opened its border, but Madrid, which had taken the blow, citing Spain’s deliberate efforts to enable illegal migration into Europe, an inversion so complete it accused the struck of striking itself. Trump called the drownings a talking point for the midterms. And Europe turned upon itself precisely as the design required. France ordered new checks on its Spanish border. Italy imposed controls of its own. Senior figures across the continent called for Spain’s suspension from the Schengen zone, and the president of the European Commission, looking upon seventy-two corpses, pronounced the images unacceptable and reminded Spain that none may enter the union without honoring its rules. The member state that had absorbed the attack was lectured for having been attacked.
The reaction was not a by-product of the operation. It was the product. The commentators who spent the weekend turning drowned men into an argument about invasion did not arrive at that frame by accident; it was handed to them. Threat and scarcity are the levers that most reliably shut off judgement and switch on obedience, and the word invasion fuses the two into a single picture. Take the word and you take everything welded to it, the border as a body assaulted, the strongman as the only cure, mercy recast as weakness. The migrants were the ammunition. The fear of the European public was the target. And the politicians demanding Spain’s expulsion from Schengen performed, without pay and with appetite, the fracturing the operation existed to cause.
One man refused the part written for him. Sánchez, who might have blamed Morocco and handed his attackers the rupture they were engineering, did not. He said the line to Rabat had stayed open and credited Moroccan forces with later clearing the crowds. Read for structure and not for manners, the restraint is not innocence. It is the discipline of a man who grasps that the crossing was aimed at his standing in Europe as much as at his fence, and who will not surrender the diplomatic break that would finish the work. His contempt he kept for the selfish European response, the “selfish, polarizing and unlawful reaction” of the allies who turned on him inside a day. He was not complaining of rudeness. He was describing the payload as it landed.
Stand back and Ceuta stops being an accident and becomes a method. Washington holds a structural interest, seldom stated and steadily served, in a Europe that is fractured rather than sovereign, dependent rather than free, a field of clients rather than a rival. And the surest road to fracture is not to confront the whole but to find a seam, or make one, and press across it until the parts turn upon each other. This is not a claim Ceuta asks to be believed on faith. It is a mechanism already visible elsewhere, under other names.
Against Iran the instrument is sanctions and strikes meant to cut a state from its economy and its people, on the wager that internal collapse does the work an invasion cannot. Against Russia the rupture of 2022 severed Europe from Russian energy, and the party most lastingly weakened by that severance was Europe itself, now buying American gas at American prices, its industry bleeding, its dependence on Washington deepened in the very act of being told it was being defended. That is the recurring tell: a fracture sold as security that leaves the fractured more dependent than before. Across the wider Middle East the same logic runs in gentler dress as the Abraham Accords, realigning a region about a Washington-Jerusalem axis, and now, on the open testimony of the Ynet piece, reaching across the Strait for Europe’s southern edge.
The Forum does not even confine the pattern to Spain. On the second of August, while the bodies were still being drawn from the sea at Tarajal, its front page carried a fresh appeal from within its own ranks, that Israel should support independence for New Caledonia, France’s Pacific territory. The template holds from target to target: find a Western holdout’s exposed possession, dress its severance as the righting of a historical wrong, and let the loss fall on a European state judged insufficiently obedient. The Forum prints its purpose on its own masthead. It exists, it says, to promote American interests and to protect the West from threats. The enclaves and the archipelago are entries in that ledger.
The instrument changes, sanctions, energy, a recognition deal, a border left open, and the object holds. A Europe that cannot agree how to answer sixty thousand people at a single enclave cannot mount an independent line on Iran, on Palestine, on trade, on its own defense. In one day, one pressure operation at one breakwater produced Europeans demanding a member state’s partial expulsion from its own zone of free movement. That is not the accident of American policy. On the evidence gathered here it is the aim.
Which returns the matter to the water. Ceuta sits on the Strait of Gibraltar, the western door of the Mediterranean, fourteen kilometers of sea through which a quarter of the world’s shipping passes. Whoever holds the enclaves and the Moroccan shore lays a hand on that door. This is why the seam was worth the widening, and why the Ynet writer named the chokepoint, and not the enclaves, as the prize. The seventy-two dead at Tarajal are what a quarrel over airspace looks like when a superpower cannot reach its target through the front door and reaches it through the sea. Rabat has done this before, loosening the same border in retaliation in 2021. The mechanism is old. What is new in 2026 is that the script was written in Washington, the punishment named in Tel Aviv, and the whole of it published, months ahead, for anyone willing to lay the pages side by side and read the dates in order.
The panic now pumped through Europe is real in its effect and manufactured in its origin. The drowned were real. The crisis was not found. It was made, and the record of its making sits in the open, on the letterhead of a think tank, a newspaper, and a congressional office, waiting on someone to set the pages beside one another and read.
Thomas Karat writes investigative work published at karat.substack.com and the Libertarian Institute, drawing on a corporate career and academic training as a behavior analyst to examine how institutions manufacture consent and influence.
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