Sunday, August 02, 2026

GENDER APARTHEID STATE

Europe And The Taliban: From Isolation To Engagement? – Analys
is



Image: Grok



August 2, 2026
Observer Research Foundation
By Shairee Malhotra and Maiwand Safi

Key Takeaways:

The EU hosted a Taliban delegation in Brussels in June 2026 for talks focused on migration and the repatriation of Afghan nationals, marking the first official meeting between the two sides on European soil since 2021.

While the EU insists the discussions are technical and do not amount to formal recognition of the Taliban, the engagement reflects growing European pressure to accelerate deportations of rejected asylum seekers and those with criminal records.

The talks highlight a pragmatic but controversial shift: Europe needs cooperation with the de facto authorities in Kabul to manage migration, while the Taliban gains diplomatic leverage and a path out of isolation.


In June 2026, a significant development unfolded in the relationship between the European Union (EU) and the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan. European governments had shut down their embassies in Kabul when the Taliban returned to power in August 2021. Last month, however, EU officials hosted a five-member Taliban delegation in Brussels, led by Afghan foreign ministry spokesperson Abdul Qahar Balkhi, after Belgium granted them one-day visas.

As a follow-up to the first meeting, held in Austria in January, the talks focused on migration and the repatriation of Afghan nationals to Afghanistan, amid growing pressure within the EU to accelerate the return of rejected asylum seekers, or those deemed a possible security threat on account of criminal offences committed in host countries.

A Diplomatic Breakthrough?

While the European Commission stressed that the talks do not amount to formal recognition of the Taliban, this represented an important diplomatic achievement for the regime. Through its instrumentalisation of migration dynamics into an opportunity for diplomatic engagement, the Taliban actively engaged the EU. For the first time since the Taliban’s return to power in 2021, an official delegation of the Islamic Emirate held talks with EU officials on European soil, overcoming its five-year diplomatic isolation. According to Balkhi, the visit to Brussels was historic because it marked the first official interaction between the Taliban and the EU.

For Kabul, the visit’s significance went beyond migration issues. The Taliban delegation was focused on confidence-building, maintaining a diplomatic presence within the EU, and ensuring a dignified return process for Afghan nationals. It also reiterated its demand that Taliban-appointed diplomats be allowed to serve in Afghan embassies across the European continent, many of which, apart from Germany, remain staffed by diplomats appointed before August 2021.

But the visit also carried broader diplomatic resonance. With the EU now engaging the Taliban, Kabul possesses leverage in dealings regarding migration. Notably, it was not the Taliban that initiated contact, but the EU that approached them. Discussions regarding the Taliban’s diplomatic presence in Europe, including consular representation, have already begun. Kabul has maintained that the visit sought to advance broader diplomatic engagement and cooperation with the EU. Thus, for the Taliban, the visit was an opportunity to demonstrate that even in the absence of formal recognition, international engagement with Afghanistan persists, and Kabul remains an important participant in discussions affecting both Afghanistan and Europe.

The EU’s Migration Conundrum

For at least a decade, migration has remained among the hottest policy issues for European governments, with far-right parties exploiting the backlash for political gains. The EU has framed its meeting with the Taliban as a response to 20 of the EU’s 27 member states that have urged stricter migration policies and firmer legal pathways for deportations.

According to EU data, member states received approximately one million asylum applications from Afghans between 2013 and 2024, with roughly half approved, making them one of the largest groups of migrants seeking asylum in the EU. As European governments aim to enhance migration controls and accelerate the repatriation of rejected asylum seekers, engagement with the authorities in Kabul has become increasingly difficult to avoid, amid a growing recognition that migration cannot be managed without cooperation with the Taliban.

The reality is that the Taliban remains the authority governing Afghanistan. Any substantial arrangement regarding the return of Afghan nationals, the provision of consular services, and the coordination of humanitarian assistance inevitably requires cooperation with the Taliban. For policymakers in Europe, including EU migration chief Magnus Brunner, this is perceived not merely as a matter of political choice, but of political necessity. Meanwhile, Germany and Austria, where deportations are high on the agenda, have already been in talks with Taliban officials, and have deported Afghan nationals with criminal records. Berlin also allowed two Taliban officials to work at the Afghan diplomatic mission in Germany to facilitate further deportations.
The Limits of Engagement

EU officials have consistently reiterated that the meetings were technical in nature, and should not be interpreted as a step towards formal recognition of the Taliban. Yet this line of reasoning remains controversial. Hannah Neumann, a Member of the European Parliament, argues that the talks symbolise a political normalisation of relations with the Taliban without securing any accountability in return. Others condemned the EU for granting the Taliban access without attaching clear conditions or benchmarks to such cooperation. The fact that the EU is granting visas and negotiating deals with the Taliban points to a pattern of de facto, incremental recognition — even as Brussels insists that the talks do not amount to formal recognition of the Islamic Emirate.


Despite the strategic imperative for cooperation, EU-Taliban engagement remains constrained by political and humanitarian challenges. Already, over three million Afghans were forcibly repatriated from Pakistan and Iran in the past year. This large-scale influx has placed additional pressure on a country grappling with severe economic challenges and the consequences of international sanctions. A further increase in deportations from Europe risks exacerbating an already fragile environment, where, according to the United Nations World Food Programme, one-third of the population, numbering over 17 million Afghans, is “food insecure”. Meanwhile, on the Rule of Law Index, Afghanistan ranks 142nd of 143 countries.

Negotiating with the Taliban remains politically contentious within Europe. Human rights organisationshave urged the EU not to conclude migration arrangements that could be seen as legitimising the current government in Kabul, arguing that any engagement should stay consistent with the EU’s broader foreign policy principles. The EU is, in fact, in talks with several other countries, including Bangladesh, on taking back citizens with criminal records, among other issues — but cooperation with Afghanistan has attracted far greater political scrutiny, given the unique circumstances surrounding the current government. At the same time, growing domestic demands and far-right pressures within EU member states to tighten migration rules and expedite the repatriation of denied asylum applicants have only heightened the imperative to engage with Kabul. Together, these concerns continue to shape the limits of the EU’s engagement with the Taliban, even as migration pressures push Brussels toward greater practical cooperation.
A Strategic Imperative

The Taliban’s Brussels visit should be understood less as a diplomatic breakthrough and more as evidence of Europe’s growing recognition that practical challenges — migration management, consular affairs, and humanitarian coordination — cannot be addressed without engaging the authorities in Kabul. For the Taliban, meanwhile, its interplay with Brussels can be viewed as a strategic effort to alleviate its global political and economic isolation, while gradually expanding its diplomatic reach by engaging on specific issues.

For Europe, the issue ties into the wider debate on EU migration policy. The EU’s pragmatic yet controversial shift towards selective cooperation with the Taliban, driven by practical considerations on issues of mutual concern, reflects the bloc’s delicate effort to balance its core values against growing domestic pressure to tighten migration policies.



About the authors:

Shairee Malhotra is Deputy Director of the Strategic Studies Programme at the Observer Research Foundation.

Maiwand Safi is a Research Intern with the Strategic Studies Programme at the Observer Research Foundation.

Source: This article was published by the Observer Research Foundation.

About Observer Research Foundation
ORF was established on 5 September 1990 as a private, not for profit, ’think tank’ to influence public policy formulation. The Foundation brought together, for the first time, leading Indian economists and policymakers to present An Agenda for Economic Reforms in India. The idea was to help develop a consensus in favour of economic reforms.
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The Politics Of Opposition: Has Countering Morocco Become Algeria’s Long-Term National Strategy? – Analysis


Neighbors greet each other on both sides of the Algeria–Morocco border. Photo Credit: amekinfo, Wikipedia Commons


August 2, 2026
By Dr. Mohamed Chtatou

Key Takeaways
:

Opposition to Morocco has become one of the most durable and institutionalized organizing principles of Algerian regional policy, rooted in the colonial border dispute, the 1963 Sand War, and especially the unresolved Western Sahara conflict since 1975.

The rivalry shapes Algerian diplomacy, military posture, energy infrastructure decisions, domestic political discourse, and even competing claims over Amazigh identity, imposing high economic opportunity costs through low regional trade and stalled Maghreb integration.

While Algeria faces many independent national priorities, the pattern of rivalry functions as a persistent filter that distorts broader policy, with limited near-term prospects for cooperation unless functional, sector-specific confidence-building measures are pursued without requiring resolution of the Sahara dispute.


Introduction

Few bilateral relationships in the contemporary world are as durably adversarial, and as consequential for regional order, as the one binding Algeria and Morocco. Since the two states emerged from French and Spanish colonial rule in the middle of the twentieth century, their relationship has oscillated between guarded cooperation and open hostility, punctuated by border war, broken diplomatic ties, closed frontiers, and a Cold-War-style contest for regional primacy that has outlasted every generation of leadership on both sides of the Zouj Bghal crossing. The question this essay poses is deliberately provocative: has countering Morocco become, in effect, Algeria’s long-term national strategy — the organizing logic beneath its foreign policy, its military posture, its regional diplomacy, and even elements of its domestic legitimation? Framed so starkly, the proposition is difficult to sustain in full. Algeria is a state of thirty-two million people with an economy structured around hydrocarbon rents, a young and often frustrated population, chronic governance challenges, and security threats along five different borders that have nothing to do with Rabat. To reduce Algerian statecraft to a single obsession would be to caricature a complex, path-dependent, and multi-causal foreign policy tradition. Yet the opposite claim — that Morocco is incidental to Algerian strategy — is equally untenable.

This essay argues for a middle position, developed across several interlocking dimensions of the relationship: that opposition to Morocco has become one of the most durable, most institutionalized, and most costly organizing principles of Algerian regional policy, even though it does not exhaust Algeria’s strategic horizon. The analysis proceeds inductively rather than by asserting the conclusion at the outset. It traces the historical origins of the rivalry in the colonial border question and the 1963 Sand War; examines the Western Sahara dispute as the structural fact around which the relationship has been organized since 1975; surveys the relevant scholarly literature; considers the underexamined identity dimension bound up with competing claims to Amazigh heritage; documents the rivalry’s expression in diplomacy, domestic politics, economics, military posture, competing developmental models, and public diplomacy; and closes by weighing the evidence for and against the essay’s central proposition before asking whether the two states can move beyond a zero-sum framework that has, by nearly every empirical measure available to regional economists 

Historical Origins: From Colonial Border to Sand War

The roots of Algerian-Moroccan antagonism predate Algerian independence itself. French colonial cartography had, over more than a century, redrawn the Saharan and pre-Saharan frontier separating what would become Algeria from the Moroccan sultanate, annexing to French Algeria territories — around Tindouf, Colomb-Béchar, and the Figuig region — that Rabat had historically administered or claimed. Morocco’s independence in 1956 preceded Algeria’s by six years, and Moroccan nationalists, including the future King Hassan II, initially framed Algeria’s liberation struggle as a shared Maghrebi cause, extending sanctuary, arms routes, and diplomatic support to the Front de Libération Nationale (FLN) during the war of 1954–1962. Rabat’s expectation — one that has structured Moroccan grievance narratives ever since — was that an independent, grateful Algeria would negotiate the restitution of the colonially amputated territories. That expectation collided with the doctrine, embraced by Algeria’s post-independence leadership under Ahmed Ben Bella, that the frontiers inherited from colonialism were sacrosanct and non-negotiable, a principle that would later be enshrined continentally in the Organization of African Unity’s 1964 Cairo Resolution on the intangibility of colonial borders.


The result was the brief but formative Sand War (Guerre des Sables) of October 1963, in which Moroccan and Algerian forces clashed over the Tindouf and Figuig sectors. Although mediated to a ceasefire within weeks through the intercession of the Organization of African Unity and Ethiopian arbitration, the war left a residue of strategic distrust on both sides that has never fully dissipated. For Algeria’s new revolutionary elite, the war confirmed a perception of Morocco’s monarchy as an irredentist, expansionist neighbor allied with conservative Western interests; for Morocco’s Palace, it confirmed a reading of Algeria as an ideologically assertive, Soviet-leaning state willing to use force against a country that had sheltered its liberation movement. Both readings, however partisan, have proven remarkably durable, resurfacing in each subsequent crisis (Chtatou, 2018, December 10).


Scholarly Perspectives on the Rivalry

The academic literature on Algerian-Moroccan relations has converged, with some variation in emphasis, on a broadly similar diagnosis. Comparative work on regional security provision in the Maghreb has characterized both states as competing “regional security providers” whose overlapping claims to leadership generate structural friction independent of any single dispute (Boukhars, 2019). Historians of French Algeria have situated the rivalry within a longer colonial and postcolonial genealogy: Stora’s work places the 130-year colonial occupation and the war of independence at the center of Algerian political identity formation in ways that have shaped a distinctively sovereigntist and anti-interventionist foreign policy culture, one considerably more suspicious of external, including Moroccan, entanglement than Morocco’s own postcolonial trajectory (Stora, 2020; Stora, 2021). Scholarship on the 2019 Hirak protests has similarly emphasized that the movement’s core grievances were domestic and institutional — centered on the transparency and accountability of the ruling elite — even as external threat narratives were subsequently mobilized by the state in the movement’s aftermath (Souiah, 2021). Taken together, this literature does not support a monocausal account in which Morocco explains all of Algerian foreign policy; but it consistently identifies the rivalry as a structuring, rather than incidental, feature of the regional order, one whose institutional and psychological roots reach back to the very different colonial and revolutionary experiences that produced the two states.

The Amazigh and Identity Dimension

A less frequently examined but analytically significant layer of the rivalry concerns competing claims to Amazigh (Berber) identity and heritage. Both Algeria and Morocco possess large Amazigh-speaking populations — respectively concentrated in Kabylia, the Aurès, and the Mzab in Algeria, and the Rif, the Middle Atlas, and the Souss in Morocco — and both states have, at different paces and with different degrees of sincerity, moved to grant Tamazight constitutional recognition as an official language, Morocco in 2011 and Algeria in 2016 (Chtatou, 2019, January 29). Yet the political meaning attached to Amazigh identity diverges sharply between the two capitals, and this divergence has periodically been folded into the broader rivalry. In Algeria, the Kabyle Amazigh movement has at times articulated demands for greater autonomy that the central government has treated as a security concern; Algerian officials have on occasion accused Morocco of covertly encouraging Kabyle separatism as an instrument of destabilization, an allegation Rabat has consistently denied. In Morocco, by contrast, the Palace has pursued a strategy of incorporating Amazigh cultural recognition — including the 2001 creation of the Royal Institute of Amazigh Culture and the 2011 constitutional reform — into an inclusive, monarchy-centered national narrative rather than treating it as a separatist threat (Chtatou, 2019, January 29). The contrast illustrates how even a shared civilizational heritage, rooted in the common Amazigh substrate of both societies predating Arab-Islamic conquest, has been refracted through the adversarial lens of the bilateral rivalry rather than serving, as it plausibly could, as a basis for cross-border cultural cooperation.

The Western Sahara Dispute as the Central Organizing Fact


If the Sand War established the rivalry’s psychological architecture, the Western Sahara dispute has supplied its enduring institutional content. Spain’s 1975 withdrawal from its Saharan colony, precipitated by Morocco’s mobilization of some 350,000 unarmed civilians in the Green March, set in motion a conflict that has now structured bilateral relations for half a century. Morocco annexed and has since administered the bulk of the territory, presenting an autonomy plan under Moroccan sovereignty as the only realistic basis for settlement. Algeria, while formally disclaiming territorial ambition in the Sahara, has hosted the Polisario Front’s government-in-exile and refugee camps near Tindouf since 1976, provided it with diplomatic, financial, and — at various junctures — military backing, and championed the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic’s claim to self-determination in African Union and United Nations fora.

Each side’s narrative is total and mutually exclusive. Algiers presents its position as a principled application of the UN Charter’s self-determination doctrine and a continuation of its own anti-colonial genealogy; Rabat, and a growing number of external observers, argue that Algeria is a de facto party to the dispute rather than a neutral sponsor of Sahrawi self-determination, pointing to the location, financing, and institutional dependency of the Polisario leadership on Algerian territory (Chtatou, 2021, October 22). The dispute has proven strategically self-reinforcing: because sovereignty over the Sahara is framed by Rabat as a matter of territorial integrity — Morocco’s most sacrosanct national cause — and by Algiers as a matter of decolonization principle, neither government has domestic space to compromise without appearing to betray a foundational commitment. This mutual entrapment has, over five decades, transformed a regional territorial dispute into the fixed coordinate around which nearly every other dimension of the bilateral relationship, and much of Algeria’s broader foreign policy, has come to be organized.

The diplomatic momentum shifted markedly after 2020, when the United States recognized Moroccan sovereignty over the Western Sahara as part of the trilateral agreement normalizing Moroccan-Israeli relations, and accelerated further as a growing number of European and African governments — France among the most consequential, given the long-anticipated Franco-Moroccan strategic treaty — moved toward explicit or implicit endorsement of the autonomy framework. Algeria has read this trend as evidence of encirclement rather than as grounds for recalibration, a perception that has, if anything, hardened its posture (Chtatou, 2026, February 26).

Foreign Policy Through the Prism of Morocco

Algerian diplomacy since the 1970s displays a recurring pattern: initiatives ostensibly pursued for their own sake — African solidarity, energy diplomacy, non-alignment, security cooperation — frequently double as instruments for constraining Moroccan influence. Several arenas illustrate the pattern with particular clarity.

The African Union. Algeria was instrumental in securing the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic’s admission to the Organization of African Unity in 1984, a decision that prompted Morocco’s thirty-three-year withdrawal from the pan-African body. When Morocco rejoined the African Union in January 2017 — trading absence for an “empty chair” strategy in favor of direct diplomatic engagement — Algeria intensified its own continental outreach, courting Sahelian and sub-Saharan capitals in what amounted to a redoubled contest for African recognition of the two rival Saharan positions.

Normalization with Israel. Morocco’s decision in December 2020 to normalize relations with Israel, secured in exchange for American recognition of its Saharan sovereignty claim, introduced an entirely new axis of confrontation. Algiers, whose foreign policy identity has long incorporated solidarity with the Palestinian cause as a matter of ideological principle, interpreted the move as a strategic realignment that imported an Israeli security and intelligence presence onto Algeria’s western flank (Chtatou, 2026, June 22). Algerian officials and much of the state-aligned press subsequently promoted the notion of a coordinated “anti-Algerian axis” linking Rabat, Washington, and Tel Aviv — a framing that, while almost certainly overstating the centrality of Algeria to Israeli strategic calculations in the Maghreb, has nonetheless shaped Algerian threat perception and defense planning in tangible ways (Chtatou, 2026, June 22).

Rupture and escalation, 2021. In August 2021, Algeria formally severed diplomatic relations with Morocco, citing what it described as hostile acts, and subsequently closed its airspace to Moroccan civilian and military aircraft, permanently suspended the Maghreb-Europe Gas Pipeline that had for a quarter-century carried Algerian gas across Moroccan territory to Spain, and maintained the closure of the land border that had already been shut since 1994. These measures, still in force at the time of writing, represent the most severe institutionalization of bilateral hostility since the Sand War, and they illustrate how thoroughly a bilateral disagreement has come to condition Algeria’s infrastructure, energy, and airspace policy (Chtatou, 2025, October 14).


The 2026 realignment. Morocco’s founding participation in the U.S.-brokered “Board of Peace” initiative in January 2026 — as a founding member, first financial contributor, and first Arab state to commit militarily to the framework — has further widened the diplomatic distance between Rabat and Algiers, reinforcing Morocco’s positioning as what one analysis termed the Arab pivot of an emergent, American-anchored regional order (Chtatou, 2026, February 26). Algeria, which has cultivated closer defense and energy ties with Russia and, increasingly, China, finds itself on the opposite side of an emerging geopolitical fault line, a divergence that maps closely onto — even if it is not reducible to — the older Rabat-Algiers rivalry.

Domestic Politics and the Uses of External Rivalry

A substantial body of political science scholarship holds that authoritarian and hybrid regimes facing internal legitimacy deficits often derive domestic utility from the cultivation of external threats — a dynamic sometimes labeled diversionary conflict theory. Algeria’s political history supplies recurring illustrations. During the brutal civil conflict of the 1990s, in which the cancellation of the 1991–1992 elections won by the Islamic Salvation Front triggered a decade-long insurgency claiming an estimated 150,000 to 200,000 lives, the military-security establishment consolidated a form of opaque, unaccountable power that critics and opposition voices have long described through the contested but persistent trope of the “pouvoir” or “mafia des généraux” — a governing configuration in which military, intelligence, and economic interests are said to be tightly interwoven and substantially insulated from electoral accountability (Chtatou, 2026, May 11). This configuration has periodically found it expedient to invoke external threats, Morocco chief among them, to reinforce internal cohesion and deflect attention from governance shortcomings.

The Hirak protest movement that erupted in February 2019, following President Abdelaziz Bouteflika’s announcement of a fifth presidential term, marked the most serious internal challenge to this system in a generation. The protests were overwhelmingly peaceful, cross-generational, and focused on domestic demands — an end to the entrenched political-military elite’s grip on power, transparent elections, and accountable governance — rather than on foreign policy grievances (Souiah, 2021). Yet the state’s response to the crisis of legitimacy the Hirak exposed included, alongside genuine institutional adjustments, a discernible intensification of external threat rhetoric, in which allegations of foreign — frequently Moroccan and, after 2020, Israeli — interference featured prominently in official and state-media discourse (Chtatou, 2025, October 14). This pattern recurred amid the 2021 diplomatic rupture, which followed closely on a period of continued social tension and slow-moving political transition under President Abdelmadjid Tebboune.

It would be reductive to claim that Algerian governance is organized *solely* around this diversionary logic. The state continues to invest, often substantially, in housing programs, subsidized food and fuel, higher education expansion, and industrial diversification efforts, reflecting genuine domestic developmental priorities that operate independently of the Moroccan rivalry. But the recurring coincidence between moments of internal political stress and heightened anti-Moroccan mobilization in official discourse is difficult to dismiss as coincidental, and it constitutes one of the clearer mechanisms by which external rivalry has become embedded in domestic statecraft.

The Economic Opportunity Cost of Confrontation


Nowhere is the price of sustained rivalry more measurable than in the economic sphere. The Arab Maghreb Union (Union du Maghreb Arabe), founded with considerable fanfare in 1989 by Algeria, Morocco, Tunisia, Libya, and Mauritania, envisioned a common market, coordinated infrastructure, and eventually a customs union modeled loosely on European integration. It has instead remained essentially moribund for over three decades, its ministerial councils largely dormant and its founding ambitions unrealized. Intra-Maghreb trade remains, by a wide margin, among the lowest levels of regional trade integration anywhere in the world; various estimates place formal trade between Algeria and Morocco at under three percent of each country’s total trade — a figure that stands in sharp contrast to the trade intensity typical of geographically contiguous economies with complementary resource endowments.

The closure of the land border since 1994 — originally imposed by Morocco after a terrorist attack in Marrakesh that Rabat attributed in part to Algerian security lapses, and never reopened despite periodic diplomatic overtures — has entrenched this separation, fostering instead a vast informal and smuggling economy along the frontier that generates neither tax revenue nor regulated employment for either state. The permanent suspension of the Maghreb-Europe Gas Pipeline in 2021 eliminated a functioning, decades-old instance of bilateral economic interdependence, one of the few that had survived previous diplomatic freezes, in favor of parallel and mutually exclusive energy corridors: Algeria has redirected gas exports through the Medgaz pipeline directly to Spain, while Morocco has pursued the ambitious Nigeria-Morocco Atlantic gas pipeline project, intended to link West African gas fields to European markets via a route explicitly bypassing Algerian territory and, implicitly, Algerian leverage over regional energy transit (Chtatou, 2025, October 14).


By way of comparison, regional blocs with far less obvious economic complementarity than Algeria and Morocco — the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, the Southern African Development Community, or even the more modest Gulf Cooperation Council — have achieved substantially higher levels of intra-regional trade and coordinated infrastructure investment over comparable timeframes, underscoring that the Maghreb’s stagnation reflects a political rather than a purely structural or geographic constraint. Economists specializing in regional integration have long argued that a genuinely cooperative Maghreb could generate substantial welfare gains through integrated transport corridors linking Casablanca, Oran, Algiers, and Tunis; expanded intra-regional trade exploiting genuine comparative advantages, including Algerian hydrocarbons and Moroccan manufacturing and agricultural exports; coordinated renewable energy infrastructure exploiting shared Saharan solar potential; deeper and more liquid regional capital markets; a substantially larger tourism market; and materially stronger collective bargaining power in trade negotiations with the European Union and other external partners. Instead, both governments have pursued largely parallel, non-complementary development strategies — duplicated port and logistics infrastructure, competing rather than coordinated Sahelian and African outreach, and defense expenditures oriented substantially toward mutual deterrence — imposing what regional economists have characterized as one of the most significant unrealized integration dividends anywhere in the developing world.

Military Competition and the Security Dilemma


The rivalry’s material expression is nowhere more visible than in defense budgets. Algeria has for over a decade maintained one of the largest military expenditures in Africa, officially justified by reference to instability along its borders with Libya, Mali, and Niger, and to broader Sahelian insecurity following the collapse of state authority in northern Mali after 2012 and the subsequent proliferation of jihadist and separatist armed groups across the region. Algerian officials consistently frame this spending as defensive and regionally oriented rather than Morocco-specific. Morocco, for its part, has pursued a parallel and substantial modernization of its armed forces, diversifying procurement across American, European, and — since the 2020 normalization — Israeli suppliers, acquiring advanced air-defense systems, precision-guided munitions, and unmanned aerial systems, alongside deepening security and intelligence cooperation with Washington through the annual African Lion exercises, now among the largest multinational military exercises conducted on the African continent (Chtatou, 2026, May 6).

Even where each state’s security calculus responds to genuinely distinct and non-Moroccan-specific threats — Algeria’s southern and eastern borders, Morocco’s Atlantic and Sahara-facing posture — the modernization efforts of each side are almost invariably interpreted by the other through the lens of bilateral competition, producing a textbook security dilemma in which defensively intended acquisitions are read as offensively threatening, prompting reciprocal escalation. Algeria’s closure of its airspace to Moroccan aircraft since 2021, and periodic reports of enhanced troop deployments and fortifications along the closed land border, exemplify how deeply militarized the relationship’s day-to-day management has become, even absent open conflict since 1963.

Competing Models of Regional Leadership


Beyond the security and diplomatic dimensions, Morocco and Algeria have in recent years articulated genuinely distinct developmental and geopolitical visions for their own regional leadership, visions that nonetheless remain locked in implicit competition. Morocco has pursued a strategy centered on economic diplomacy, South-South cooperation, and Atlantic-facing infrastructure: expanding Moroccan banking, telecommunications, and construction investment across West and Central Africa; promoting the Nigeria-Morocco gas pipeline as a continental connectivity project; and, most recently, launching the Atlantic African States Initiative to grant Sahelian states — many now governed by juntas estranged from Paris and, in several cases, from the West African regional bloc ECOWAS — access to the Atlantic via Moroccan Saharan ports, positioning the Kingdom as an indispensable logistical bridge between the landlocked Sahel and global markets.

Algeria, drawing on its hydrocarbon wealth, larger military establishment, and long-cultivated legacy of anti-colonial and non-aligned solidarity dating to the FLN’s role in Third World liberation movements, has instead emphasized direct engagement with Sahelian governments, mediation efforts around Mali’s internal conflicts (notwithstanding the 2024 rupture of the Algiers Accord process with Bamako’s military government), and a foreign policy identity rooted in sovereigntist and anti-interventionist principles. These are not, in the abstract, mutually exclusive strategies; a genuinely cooperative Maghreb could plausibly accommodate both a Moroccan Atlantic corridor and an Algerian Sahelian mediation role. In practice, however, each initiative is consistently read by the other capital as an attempt at regional encirclement, and diplomatic energy that might otherwise support complementary regional development is instead expended on mutual containment.

Public Diplomacy and the Media Battlefield

The rivalry is fought not only through formal diplomacy, defense procurement, and infrastructure decisions but through a sustained contest over international public opinion and media narrative. Both governments maintain extensive networks of aligned media outlets, foreign lobbying arrangements, and academic and think-tank outreach designed to shape how the Western Sahara dispute, and the broader bilateral relationship, is understood by external audiences, particularly in Washington, Brussels, and Paris. Moroccan diplomacy has invested heavily in cultivating relationships with American and European policymakers, journalists, and legislators, an effort that bore significant fruit in the 2020 U.S. recognition of Moroccan Saharan sovereignty and in the broader diplomatic momentum toward the autonomy plan that has followed. Algerian diplomacy has responded in kind, mobilizing its own networks — including sympathetic voices within pro-Polisario advocacy circles, segments of the European left, and African liberation-movement solidarity networks inherited from the FLN’s own revolutionary past — to contest Moroccan sovereignty claims and to publicize allegations of human rights concerns in the Moroccan-administered Sahara.


This contest has periodically spilled into direct state-to-state friction unrelated to the Sahara itself. Diplomatic tensions between Algeria and France over historical memory, migration, and, more recently, the 2024 detention of Algerian-French dissident figures have occurred against a backdrop in which Algiers has explicitly linked Parisian policy choices to what it perceives as a tilt toward Rabat in the French political and media establishment, illustrating how the Moroccan rivalry has come to color even relationships, such as that with France, that possess their own independent and long-standing bilateral logic. The result is a regional information environment in which even ostensibly unrelated developments — a European parliamentary resolution, a UN human rights report, a Sahelian coup — are routinely read by both capitals through the interpretive grid of the rivalry, reinforcing the pattern identified throughout this essay: not that Morocco explains everything in Algerian policy, but that remarkably little in Algerian regional policy remains wholly untouched by it.

Is Countering Morocco Algeria’s Only Long-Term Strategy? An Assessment


Having traced the rivalry across several interlocking domains, it is possible to render a more precise verdict on the essay’s opening question. The claim that opposing Morocco constitutes Algeria’s *sole* long-term national program does not withstand scrutiny. Algeria confronts a genuinely broad portfolio of national priorities substantially independent of Rabat: sustaining domestic political stability amid a still-incomplete post-Hirak transition; reducing an economy that remains heavily dependent on hydrocarbon rents despite years of diversification rhetoric; addressing acute demographic and youth-employment pressures in a country where a majority of the population is under thirty-five; safeguarding food and water security amid recurrent drought; modernizing aging infrastructure; and managing an unusually complex and volatile security environment along its Libyan, Malian, Nigerien, Tunisian, and Mauritanian borders, much of which has no bearing whatsoever on the Moroccan file.

Yet the qualified counter-claim is equally well supported: rivalry with Morocco has become one of the most enduring, most consistently invoked, and most consequential organizing principles of Algerian regional strategy, disproportionate to its objective weight among Algeria’s many national interests. Few other single bilateral relationships shape Algerian diplomatic alignment (Israel, the Board of Peace framework, African Union positioning), defense procurement and deployment patterns, energy and infrastructure policy (the abandoned Maghreb-Europe pipeline, redirected export corridors), and domestic political discourse as consistently and as visibly as the Moroccan file does. The rivalry functions less as one interest among many, competing on equal terms for policy attention, than as a persistent filter through which a wide range of otherwise unrelated policy domains come to be interpreted and, frequently, distorted.


The opportunity cost of this pattern is considerable and increasingly well documented. North Africa remains among the least economically integrated regions in the world, despite possessing precisely the kind of complementary economic endowments — Algerian energy and capital, Moroccan manufacturing, logistics, and market access — that elsewhere in the world have driven successful regional integration projects. The persistence of confrontation, rather than the underlying territorial dispute over the Western Sahara itself, appears to be the more proximate obstacle to regional cooperation, since the dispute could in principle coexist with functioning economic relations, as it did for much of the period between 1988 and 1994 and, more partially, up to the reopening of hostility in the 2020s.

Toward Rivalry or Renewal? Prospects for the Maghreb

The trajectory of North African regional order over the coming decade will depend substantially on whether Algiers and Rabat can construct mechanisms for functional cooperation that do not require the prior resolution of the Western Sahara dispute — a resolution that, given the entrenched and mutually incompatible positions each side has adopted, appears unlikely in the near term regardless of shifting international recognition patterns. Confidence-building measures of the kind that have periodically eased other protracted regional disputes elsewhere in the world — technical-level dialogue on shared Sahelian security threats such as terrorism, arms trafficking, and organized crime; gradual, sector-specific economic exchanges insulated from the broader diplomatic freeze; expanded consular and people-to-people contacts for the substantial Algerian and Moroccan diaspora populations with family ties across the closed border — could, in principle, begin to erode the rigidity of the current standoff without requiring either government to abandon its core position on sovereignty.

Whether such measures materialize depends heavily on domestic political conditions in both countries that lie beyond the scope of bilateral diplomacy narrowly conceived: the trajectory of Algeria’s post-Hirak political transition and the internal balance between reformist and status-quo-oriented factions within its security establishment; the pace and durability of Morocco’s continuing diplomatic consolidation around its Saharan sovereignty claim, which reduces Rabat’s own incentive to offer concessions likely to be read domestically as unnecessary; and the broader reconfiguration of external alignments — American, European, Russian, Chinese, and Gulf — that increasingly overlay, and in some respects harden, the underlying bilateral dispute.

Conclusion

Algeria’s relationship with Morocco constitutes one of the defining and most costly features of contemporary North African geopolitics. It would be inaccurate, and analytically reductive, to conclude that countering Morocco represents Algeria’s *sole* long-term political and economic program: Algerian statecraft addresses a genuinely wide array of domestic and regional priorities that operate independently of Rabat, from Sahelian security to hydrocarbon diversification to demographic management. Yet it would be equally mistaken to treat the rivalry as a marginal or merely episodic feature of Algerian policy. Across diplomacy, domestic politics, economics, and defense planning, opposition to Morocco has become one of the most consistent, most institutionalized, and most expensive threads running through Algerian statecraft since 1962 — a pattern that has hardened rather than softened across the successive crises of 2020–2021 and 2026. Whether this pattern continues to dominate the North African landscape, or gradually gives way to pragmatic, sector-specific cooperation, will shape not only the futures of Algeria and Morocco individually but the stability, prosperity, and integration of the wider Maghreb, a region whose considerable unrealized potential stands as the clearest available evidence that sustained rivalry, however deeply rooted in history and grievance, carries costs that neither society can indefinitely afford.


The analytical task, then, is not to adjudicate which government bears greater responsibility for the impasse — a question that lies beyond the scope of dispassionate scholarship and that each side’s own domestic discourse answers, predictably and uniformly, in the other’s disfavor — but to recognize the structural pattern the evidence discloses: a rivalry that began as a colonial border dispute and hardened, through the Sand War and the still-unresolved Western Sahara question, into a self-sustaining organizing logic capable of absorbing and reshaping nearly every adjacent policy domain it touches, from Amazigh cultural politics to Sahelian diplomacy to hydrocarbon infrastructure. Recognizing that logic, and the considerable agency each government retains to loosen its grip, is the necessary precondition for any future in which the Maghreb’s shared geography becomes an asset rather than, as it has functioned for the past half-century, a perpetually contested frontier.

ReferencesBoukhars, A. (2019). Reassessing the power of regional security providers: The case of Algeria and Morocco. Middle Eastern Studies, 55(2), 242–260. https://doi.org/10.1080/00263206.2018.1538968
Chtatou, M. (2018, December 10). The ongoing cold war between Morocco and Algeria: Analysis. Eurasia Review. https://www.eurasiareview.com/10122018-the-ongoing-cold-war-between-morocco-and-algeria-analysis/
Chtatou, M. (2019, January 29). Amazigh culture in Morocco and Algeria: Analysis. Eurasia Review. https://www.eurasiareview.com/29012019-amazigh-culture-in-morocco-and-algeria-analysis/
Chtatou, M. (2019, March 5). An overview of French colonialism in the Maghreb: Analysis. Eurasia Review. https://www.eurasiareview.com/05032019-an-overview-of-french-colonialism-in-the-maghreb-analysis/
Chtatou, M. (2021, October 22). Morocco and Algeria on the edge of the precipice: Analysis. Eurasia Review. https://www.eurasiareview.com/22102021-morocco-and-algeria-on-the-edge-of-the-precipice-analysis/
Chtatou, M. (2025, October 14). Algeria, a country at odds with itself: Analysis. Eurasia Review. https://www.eurasiareview.com/14102025-algeria-a-country-at-odds-with-itself-analysis/
Chtatou, M. (2026, February 26). Morocco and the “Board of Peace”: A strategic gamble or a deliberate alignment? Analysis. Eurasia Review. https://www.eurasiareview.com/26022026-morocco-and-the-board-of-peace-a-strategic-gamble-or-a-deliberate-alignment-analysis/
Chtatou, M. (2026, May 6). Exercise African Lion 2026 and the strategic centrality of Morocco: Analysis. Eurasia Review.
Chtatou, M. (2026, May 11). L’Algérie et la « mafia des généraux » : Anatomie d’un système de pouvoir opaque et perspectives d’avenir. Amadal Amazigh. https://www.eurasiareview.com/11052026-lalgerie-et-la-mafia-des-generaux-anatomie-dun-systeme-de-pouvoir-opaque-et-perspectives-davenir/amadalamazigh.press
Chtatou, M. (2026, June 22). From coexistence to strategic partnership: Morocco–Israel relations in historical and contemporary perspective: Analysis. Eurasia Review. https://www.eurasiareview.com/22062026-from-coexistence-to-strategic-partnership-morocco-israel-relations-in-historical-and-contemporary-perspective-analysis/
Souiah, S. (2021). Hirak and the crisis of legitimacy in Algeria. The Journal of North African Studies, 26(4), 567–589. https://doi.org/10.1080/13629387.2021.1900743
Stora, B. (2020). Histoire de l’Algérie coloniale (1830–1954). La Découverte.
Stora, B. (2021). France-Algérie, les passions douloureuses. Robert Laffont.



About Dr. Mohamed Chtatou
Dr. Mohamed Chtatou is a Professor of education science at the university in Rabat. He is currently a political analyst with Moroccan, Gulf, French, Italian and British media on politics and culture in the Middle East, Islam and Islamism as well as terrorism. He is, also, a specialist on political Islam in the MENA region with interest in the roots of terrorism and religious extremism.
View all posts by Dr. Mohamed Chtatou →

 

Morocco names Tiznit-Dakhla expressway after Trump, confirming US president's claim

Morocco names Tiznit-Dakhla expressway after Trump, confirming US president's claim
Morocco names Tiznit-Dakhla expressway after Trump official news agency confirms. / bne IntelliNewsFacebook
By bne IntelliNews August 1, 2026

Morocco has named the Tiznit-Dakhla expressway the "President Donald J. Trump Highway", casting the move as a mark of relations with the United States stretching back 250 years, the state news agency MAP reported on August 1.

The naming formalises Rabat's embrace of a gesture Trump had publicised days earlier, and ties the kingdom's most ambitious infrastructure project to his 2020 recognition of Moroccan sovereignty over Western Sahara, which Spain and Algeria dispute.

The naming of the road also comes 24-hours after more than 60,000 people entered the Spanish exclave of Ceuta which sits at the northern edge of Morocco.

Most of the 1,055 km route runs through the disputed territory, which the United Nations still treats as non-self-governing, giving the naming a diplomatic weight beyond the road itself.

The expressway cost about $1bn and runs along the Atlantic coast from Tiznit in southern Morocco through Guelmim, Tan-Tan, Laayoune and Boujdour to Dakhla.

It became fully operational earlier in 2026 and ranks among the longest roads in Africa.

The route forms the backbone of Morocco's strategy to turn its southern provinces into a logistics and trade gateway linking Europe with West Africa through the Guerguerat border crossing. It is designed to connect with the Dakhla Atlantic port, a flagship project scheduled for completion in 2028.

Trump thanked King Mohammed VI for the naming in a post on his Truth Social platform, describing it as a great honour and saying he looked forward to travelling the length of the highway.

Trump's recognition of Moroccan sovereignty over Western Sahara came as part of the deal under which Morocco normalised relations with Israel. France and Spain later shifted towards backing Moroccan control.

Western Sahara has been disputed between Morocco and the Algeria-backed Polisario Front since Spain withdrew in 1975. Morocco controls most of the territory, while the Polisario seeks a referendum on independence.

 

Number of people living in each city - OWID

Number of people living in each city - OWID
Most of the world’s fastest-growing megacities will soon be in Africa. / OWIDFacebook
By Esteban Ortiz-Ospina for Our World in Data July 31, 2026

Most of the world’s fastest-growing megacities will soon be in Africa. Many cities across East Asia and Latin America have grown quickly over the last few decades. Since 1950, São Paulo’s population has grown sixfold. Shanghai’s nearly tenfold, Our World in Data  (OWID)  reports.

This rapid growth is now ending. São Paulo is near its population peak, and Shanghai is projected to peak around 2050.

The fastest-growing megacities are now emerging elsewhere. In the chart, you can see various examples: Karachi in South Asia, and Dar es Salaam, Addis Ababa, and Luanda in Africa.

Luanda, the capital of Angola, is an interesting case. It gets much less attention than well-established megacities, but as the chart shows, it's on track to overtake São Paulo in about 20 years and Shanghai in about 60.

In this dataset from the European Commission's Joint Research Centre, only 24 of today’s 100 largest cities are projected to still be growing by 2100; of those, 12 are in Africa, and 5 are in South Asia.

Of course, these rely on projections — often many decades ahead — and those come with a lot of uncertainty. Nonetheless, they provide a useful perspective on what the future of cities across the world might look like.

Explore the full data for other cities in our interactive chart

TACO

Trump flip-flops on Patriot license for Ukraine promise

Trump flip-flops on Patriot license for Ukraine promise
During their meeting in Ankara US President Donald Trump promised Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy a license to make Patriot interceptor missiles in Ukraine, but a week later he appears to have cooled on the idea. / IntelliNewsFacebook
By Ben Aris in Berlin August 2, 2026

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy has asked Washington for an emergency package of 300 Patriot missiles before winter, warning that Ukraine’s reserves are running dangerously low and that the country cannot reliably defend itself against Russian ballistic missiles without them.

During a heavy bombardment of Kyiv at the weekend that killed nine people, Ukraine was only able to bring down one of the 50-odd missiles Russia fired, in a testament to how low its stock of air defence ammo is.

But Zelenskiy’s request has landed at a bad time for the White House as America’s stock of the sought after missiles is also running dangerously low after heavy expenditure in the Iran war. Able to only produce about 600 new PAC-3 interceptor missiles a year, the production bottleneck has seen the order book back up for years to come.

Trump added a further layer of uncertainty on July 31 when he said he was “not sure” whether Washington would allow Ukraine to make Patriot interceptors domestically, retreating from a pledge he had made at the Nato summit in Ankara earlier in July.

“It’s a very extraordinary weapon, and we have to be a little bit careful of who we license it to. We don’t really license equipment,” Trump told the Financial Times.

“I’m not looking for missiles. We’re looking for peace,” he added, saying that his priority was ending the war rather than expanding Ukraine’s long-term weapons-production capacity.

While Zelenskiy boasted earlier this year that Ukraine now produces 60% of what it needs domestically, it still has no large scale production capacity for the most sophisticated missiles and counter measures. Currently, the PAC-3 is the only munition Ukraine has that can reliably bring down Russian ballistic missiles, and Russia has been pouring resources into expanding its missile production capacity.

Kyiv has turned to European production as the only durable solution to its dependence on intermittent US supplies, but the clock is ticking. Ukraine has launched dozens of joint ventures with European defence companies under the so-called Danish model, but these facilities will not start coming on line until 2027 at the earliest and Ukraine’s need for more air defence measures is immediate and urgent.

Zelenskiy raised the licensing issue directly with Trump during their meeting in Washington on July 28. Zelenskiy described the talks as “good”, while Trump said afterwards: “I would like him to end the war. It’s very simple.”

Yet even if Trump were to give formal approval, Ukraine would still face a more fundamental obstacle: Boeing’s reported refusal to licence production of the seeker head used in the PAC-3 interceptor is a potential deal-killer.

The seeker bottleneck

The PAC-3 MSE is the best Patriot interceptor for Ukraine, and its seeker uses Ka-band active electronically scanned array technology, among the most advanced systems of its kind, developed by Boeing.

In reality, even if the Patriot license is granted, Ukraine won’t actually make these missiles, but will be forced to import the components from US producers as it will remain beyond Kyiv’s ability to build the production to make many of the components. The US production bottleneck will remain in effect to begin with as these components are in as high demand as the completed missiles themselves.

That makes Boeing’s seeker a critical bottleneck in any attempt to establish production outside the US.

According to reports, Boeing is not prepared to share the relevant technology with third countries. Without access to the seeker design and manufacturing process, Ukraine cannot build a genuinely domestic PAC-3 supply chain, even if other parts of the missile could be produced locally.

The problem is not limited to intellectual property. Building a complete production network would require licences, specialist factories, qualified suppliers and several years of work.

Even Boeing’s own expansion plans are slow. The company is estimated to need roughly seven years to triple production of the relevant components.

Factories built inside Ukraine would also obviously become priority targets for Russian missile and drone attacks. During this weekend’s missile barrage on Kyiv, the residential damage was widely reported, but less well reported was the strikes on a military industrial complex in Bucha on the outskirts of the capital. As the tit-for-tat missile war continues to escalate, both sides are specifically targeting defence sector factories. That has prompted more discussion of placing at least some production capacity in Western Europe, where it would be less vulnerable but still accessible to Kyiv.

Competing with the US stockpile

Ukraine is seeking 300 missiles, but Washington has used roughly one-third of its pre-war Patriot inventory and around half of its THAAD interceptors since the Iran conflict began.

That would leave the US with an estimated 759-827 Patriot interceptors and 234-278 THAAD interceptors, compared with approximately 2,330 Patriots and 452 THAAD interceptors before the war, the FT reports.

On those estimates, granting Kyiv 300 Patriot missiles would consume a very large share of the remaining American inventory. Secretary of War Pete Hegseth has already cancelled arms deliveries for Ukraine, arguing that the remaining stockpiles have already fallen to below the strategic minimum requirements.

Washington is already trying to reverse the shortage. On March 6 — six days into Operation Epic Fury, the joint US-Israeli campaign against Iran — Trump summoned the chief executives of the seven largest US defence contractors to the White House: Lockheed Martin, RTX (Raytheon's parent), Boeing, Northrop Grumman, BAE Systems, L3Harris and Honeywell Aerospace.

The meeting came as the Pentagon admitted the first four days of strikes had burned through more long-range munitions than four years of fighting in Ukraine, and lawmakers were openly asking whether US missile stockpiles could sustain a prolonged campaign.

Trump characterised the outcome as a win, posting on Truth Social: "We just concluded a very good meeting with the largest US Defence Manufacturing Companies where we discussed Production and Production Schedules. They have agreed to quadruple Production of the 'Exquisite Class' Weaponry in that we want to reach, as rapidly as possible, the highest levels of quantity."

Lockheed Martin's statement struck a similar note, "We are moving with urgency, and we will deliver", as did Northrop Grumman's.

But then they admitted to how long it would take to achieve: a multiyear framework based on agreements with the Pentagon already in place since January. In other words, nothing changed. The production of systems like the Patriot PAC-3 and THAAD interceptors runs at roughly 600-650 units a year, with replenishment timelines industry executives themselves described as measured in years, not weeks or months.

Last week the US Army awarded Lockheed Martin a new contract worth up to $58.6bn to produce PAC-3 MSE interceptors through fiscal year 2032. The agreement expands an earlier one-year, $4.7bn contract into a seven-year procurement programme. Lockheed Martin says it will use the money to triple PAC-3 MSE production capacity by the end of 2030.

That is far too late for Bankova. The start of what is expected to be an intense Russian missile barrage this winter, targeting what is left of Ukraine’s generation capacity is expected to start in a few months; Ukraine started the war with Russia with just under 60GW of installed power capacity but only has 14GW left, according to various estimates. Russia has reportedly already started stockpiling missiles for the campaign.

Finding more air defence ammo has become a problem with no solution. As IntelliNews reported, Europe’s reluctance to sign the defence sector procurement contracts in the early stages of the war has turned into a strategic blunder that will likely cost Ukraine the war. Germany also has a patriot license from the US to make the less-good PAC-2 interceptors, but the first missile is not expected to roll off the conveyer belt of the new factory in Bavaria until 2027.

The most realistic route may be a hybrid arrangement: final assembly or component production in Europe, continued US control over the seeker and other sensitive systems, and long-term purchasing commitments from Ukraine and its allies. But even this model leaves Kyiv dependent on US export approval and American industrial capacity.