Ceuta Faces Overwhelming Challenges from Migrant Arrivals
The city of Ceuta is grappling with the repercussions of a massive influx of migrants from Morocco, which has intensified since the end of July. Individuals such as Jawad, Hamza, and Taufiq find themselves waiting in vain for spots in reception centers, enduring violence, hunger, and displacement while others like Zacharias have given up after 43 days and returned home. The arrival of over 70,000 migrants has not only exacerbated the political crisis but has also led to overcrowded beaches and streets, igniting protests and fears among segments of the local population, coupled with a rise in right-wing mobilization. Reports from aid workers indicate growing hostility, with Muslim residents and NGOs lamenting assaults and the visible social division within Ceuta. Allegations against military and police for mistreating migrants have prompted the Spanish government to announce investigations into these claims.
After 43 days of waiting, Zacharias decides to abandon his attempt. He dangles his feet off a wall at Playa Tramaguera in southern Ceuta, his disheveled hair fluttering in the breeze as he gazes out at the sea towards the landmass from which he swam to this Spanish enclave. Behind him, Jawad, Taufiq, and Hamza fold the blankets on which they sit, eat, and wait. "There is safety in numbers," Jawad remarks, highlighting the bond they share as they navigate this uncertain journey together. All in their mid-twenties, they have spent each day in each other's company. Jawad recalls witnessing a group teasing Zacharias, a deaf boy, and he took him under his wing, integrating him into their circle.
For 43 days, they have clung to the hope of securing a place in one of the official reception centers, where they believe they could apply for asylum and possibly reach the Spanish mainland. This hope sustains them through the searing sun, hunger, and the beatings administered by the military, according to Jawad. However, they have been turned away every time they attempted to enter the camps due to a lack of space. Now, they set off towards the university hospital, believing that they would be safer there from the military, which routinely drives migrants from the beaches each night. As they walk, Zacharias chooses to remain on the wall, gesturing towards himself and then nodding towards Morocco.
The three friends are among over 70,000 individuals who reached Ceuta between July 30 and 31, most of whom traveled on foot from the Moroccan border town of Fnideq and swam around the border fence, covering distances ranging from a few meters to up to five kilometers. The exact number of those who perished during this treacherous journey remains uncertain, but the NGO Caminando Fronteras has recorded 141 deaths, with 89 individuals buried in the cemetery in Ceuta.
Typically, Ceuta is home to around 80,000 residents; however, this number nearly doubled overnight. International media have described the situation as an “invasion.” In an open letter to EU leaders, 22 heads of state and government expressed serious concerns regarding Europe’s external borders. In response, Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni instituted border controls with Spain. Just a day later, Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez boasted that "practically all" migrants had been returned, signaling that the state is taking action and normalcy is being restored.
However, protests erupted across Spain regarding the situation in the enclave. Local government estimates suggest that by mid-September, between 10,000 and 15,000 migrants remained on the streets and beaches of Ceuta, including over 1,000 minors. On the eve of Sánchez’s announcement of new elections, police, supported by the military, began clearing the beach, a location that had become emblematic of failure for many.
The 600-meter-long Trampolín beach, once a popular swimming spot for locals, was overcrowded with makeshift shelters made of bamboo and plastic tarps, with around 4,000 individuals reported to be residing there, amid the stench of burnt trash. Nearly two months after the initial surge, normalcy remains elusive in Ceuta. Migrants recount severe violence perpetrated by police and military forces, while residents voice complaints about noise, filth, and crime, feeling betrayed by their government. Right-wing streamers and politicians are fueling discontent, inciting some to resort to violence.
Life on the Streets: Dreams and Despair
At the university hospital, Jawad, Taufiq, and Hamza lay out their dirty blanket as their makeshift bed for the night. Shortly before 9 PM, they make their way to the mosque, passing around 200 men and youths sprawled on cardboard boxes or carpets. The glow of cell phone screens illuminates tired faces, with some engaged in phone conversations with family members back in Morocco. They enter a cramped ground-floor room in a residential building, the plaster peeling from the walls. Here, they pray every evening.
Taufiq, 28, wearing a Liverpool cap, speaks the least among them. He reveals he is an orphan from Tangier, situated in northern Morocco, and aspires to open a barbershop in Spain. Hamza, also 28 and hailing from Casablanca, shares that he studied law but currently works at Burger King, assembling Whoppers at a pace of seven seconds each. Despite his qualifications, he struggles to find legal work, and with a monthly salary of 250 euros, he spends 150 euros on rent. His dream, inspired by a film about Vikings, is to relocate to Oslo. Jawad, 26, recounts that this is his fifth attempt to reach Europe. In Casablanca, he sold watermelons and prickly pears from a motorcycle rickshaw, just like his brother. The Moroccan military repeatedly confiscated his goods. "I love Morocco, but there is no future there," he laments.
In 2019, Jawad attempted to travel overland to Greece, spending weeks hiding in a forest in Turkey until he was discovered by soldiers. Two years later, he tried kayaking from Fnideq to Algeciras on the Spanish mainland but was intercepted by the coast guard. When his best friend Hamza called him on July 29 and informed him that the border to Ceuta was open, he did not hesitate to leave his watermelon business behind and embark on the journey with Hamza.
The trio is determined to leave Morocco due to the lack of adequate healthcare, a stagnant economy that offers little opportunity for advancement, and a government that imprisons those who protest for reforms. Their prolonged wait on the streets of Ceuta is also a consequence of the enclave's unique legal status: although part of the Schengen Area, migrants cannot simply travel onward to the Spanish mainland. However, they possess the right to apply for asylum, albeit with bleak prospects—only four percent of asylum applications from Morocco were approved by the EU in 2024. Until their applications are processed, Spain cannot deport anyone. Thus, the only option left for them is to hold onto the hope of asylum and continue waiting.
As reported by zeit.de.
