Melilla and Nador: The Border After the Crossing

From outside, it may seem that everything is over. The viral images of the past few weeks have disappeared, the streets have returned to normality and, from a distance, it might seem that the tension is behind us. However, as we anticipated in previous publications, this calm is always deceptive. Rather than a reasonable resolution to the crossing events, what can currently be perceived is a state of pause marked by deep uncertainty.

Spanish national gendarmerie (Guardia Civil) boat patrolling Río Segura at the Port of Melilla. Solidary Wheels: No Borders For Human Rights, 6 August 2026.

In addition to the people injured and missing during the attempted crossing into Melilla — for which no official figures are yet available — another, far less visible reality has now emerged: that of those who have been detained. Dozens of young people remain in judicial custody in Morocco, made into the face of a coercive response seeking to unleash its machinery of relentless retaliation against its own population.

In the province of Nador, and particularly at the Beni Enzar crossing, the externalisation of border control continues. Security presence has been reinforced in strategic locations, near the seaport, the land border, bus stations and the points where intercity transport connecting Nador with Beni Enzar is monitored.

According to information provided by the Moroccan Association of Human Rights (AMDH), 52 people have been detained and will face judicial proceedings in Nador alone for their attempt to enter Melilla. Of these, 11 will face criminal proceedings before the court of second instance, while another 41, including two girls, will be tried before the court of first instance for offences considered to be minor. We know that some of those detained are children.

These figures reveal a dimension of the situation that is often overlooked in discussions surrounding borders. Behind every detainee there is a family, a story and now a judicial process whose development is of particular concern to human rights organisations in Morocco.

The Right to Legal Defence At Risk

One of the main legal concerns is precisely the extent to which procedural safeguards are being upheld. The first hearings took place on 10 August before the Nador Court of First Instance, at a particularly sensitive moment given the indefinite strike being carried out by Moroccan lawyers. Fearing that those detained might be tried without effective legal representation, the organisations accompanying them have sought to have the hearings postponed in order to guarantee the accused’s right to legal assistance.

Beni-Enzar border crossing. Solidary Wheels: No Borders For Human Rights, 1 August 2026.

Of those who appeared on the first day, across 13 separate cases, only seven are currently at liberty awaiting trial. Among those who remain in pre-trial detention are women whose hearings were scheduled to take place remotely, while 11 people testified in person. Most of those detained requested the trial to be held in person and therefore be able to exercise their right to a defence with the assistance of professionals.

Ultimately, it was possible to postpone the hearings until 13 August for those who requested to attend the hearing, and until 17 August for the accused who legally petitioned for legal representation and time to prepare their defence.

This issue becomes particularly significant when considering the consequences that a conviction may have for the migration trajectories of those affected. Having a criminal record can constitute a barrier to accessing some of the few procedures available to regularise one’s immigration status in European countries, closing off pathways to the limited alternatives that remain available. In this way, the consequences of criminal proceedings can extend far beyond the sentence itself, having a direct and lasting impact on people’s ability to build a life in conditions of safety and security.

Judicial safeguards should be rigorously upheld when the facts have not been properly established and those affected are exposed to situations of extreme vulnerability in the harsh experience of surviving border territories.

The Border as a Tool for Pressure

Just as a 500-metre-long maritime barrier has been installed in Ceuta and the highly controversial concertina wire has been redeployed, similar changes can be observed in Melilla. These developments point to an increasingly violent security policy that is increasingly encroaching on everyday life in response to shifting border and political interests.

Southern breakwater (Dique Sur), Melilla. Solidary Wheels: No Borders For Human Rights, 7 August 2026.

At Melilla’s southern breakwater (Dique Sur), new fencing has been installed along the only section of the perimeter that had remained free of physical barriers and which has traditionally been used by fishermen. A space associated with everyday life and leisure has thus been incorporated into the logic of surveillance and border control. Adding to the harm caused to people, the same maritime barrier has been installed there, ostensibly on a temporary basis, with the aim of serving the legal function of rejecting people who attempt to reach Melilla by swimming.

Southern breakwater (Dique Sur), Melilla. Solidary Wheels: No Borders For Human Rights, 13 August 2026.

Beyond adding another element to the city’s security infrastructure, the installation of these fences represents the gradual transformation of spaces intended for public use into areas shaped by the repressive and hostile logic of the border.

Although a border demarcation may be more or less visible in people’s everyday lives, we must not forget that borders remain imaginary constructs that are constantly shaped and mobilised according to geopolitical interests. Therefore, fences, walls and police controls, among other mechanisms, are not only less rigid than we might believe, but can also be modified according to political decisions. 

This was already evident in 2022, with the Melilla massacre, when at least 37 migrants died as a result of police violence at the border infrastructure and more than 400 were returned from Spanish territory. This course of action violated the principle of non-refoulement established in the Refugee Convention and was not an isolated event, but rather reflected the broader business of border externalisation between Morocco, Spain and Europe.

Now, four years later, and following Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez’s visit to Algeria, the two countries seek to restore and strengthen their political and economic relations, agreeing to hold a High-Level Meeting in October 2026 focusing on energy, trade, migration and security. This rapprochement has generated discontent on the part of King Mohammed VI, as relations between Morocco and Algeria have been at breaking point since 2021, amid a conflict shaped particularly by the question of Western Sahara and the closure of the Maghreb-Europe gas pipeline. In this way, borders are once again being used as a tool of pressure in relations between the two countries, while those attempting to cross the fences of Ceuta and Melilla are the ones paying the high price of the necropolitics enacted by Fortress Europe.

Childhood: When Vulnerability Becomes a Spectacle

The transformation of border infrastructure, the tightening of controls and the increasing fortification through physical barriers are not the only clearly visible changes. The children and adolescents under state guardianship who remain in Melilla require adequate and urgent attention that is currently not being provided.

Some of them wander the streets, exposed to all kinds of violence, intimidation and situations of vulnerability. Others remain in the courtyards of residential centres under the sun, spending hours in conditions that should be subject to scrutiny and that, in no way, guarantee their protection and well-being. Given that, as minors, they should be entitled to special protection from the institutions, the reality is that they are being neglected and left in a situation of serious vulnerability and lack of protection.

This is compounded by a particularly concerning phenomenon: the public exposure of their images while they are in situations of extreme vulnerability. Once again, these young people are photographed in public spaces without their consent, serving as the backdrop to a humiliating border scene. The image of a person in a vulnerable situation — all the more so when that person is a minor — cannot become an object of curiosity or a socio-political tool. The normalisation of these representations should prompt us to reflect on how we look at children and adolescents, particularly in the borderlands of colonial Europe.

Securitisation on the Other Side of the Fence

On the Moroccan side, the striking presence of a uniformed brigade wearing black work overalls, similar to those used by mechanics, is immediately noticeable. Most strikingly, however, there is no visible identification indicating which security or law-enforcement body they belong to. At first glance, they appear to be equipped with helmets, visors and batons, without carrying any other visible weapons. 

Beni-Enzar border crossing, Morocco. Solidary Wheels: No Borders For Human Rights, 1 August 2026.

They make up a large contingent, most of whom seem very young, in contrast to the few officers wearing the standard uniform, whose numbers do not exceed those usually seen in the area. Everything suggests that these young uniformed men may be linked to Morocco’s compulsory military service, which applies to people between the ages of 19 and 25 and lasts for twelve months. However, this connection has not been officially confirmed.

Generally speaking, there have been no visible attempts to cross into Melilla in recent days. What is evident, however, is the presence of a security operation that stands in stark contrast to the apparent calm in the area. Like on the Spanish side, this calm may conceal a much more complex, harsh and discouraging reality.

The despair among Moroccan youth became particularly evident following the GenZ212 movement protests. Driven by structural discontent, protesters called for improvements to public healthcare and education, greater employment opportunities, effective action against corruption, and greater social justice. However, the authorities responded with brutal repression, leading to thousands of arrests and judicial proceedings.

In this context, the desire to migrate should be understood as an expression of a profound lack of prospects and opportunities, as well as of insecurity, even in spaces of collective mobilisation. A people-centred response should be developed to a natural process such as migration, without resorting to militarisation, criminalisation and the acceptance of human rights violations as part of the ordinary functioning of the border.

The Afterlife of the Border

When a critical event appears to come to an end, its consequences persist. The apparent calm does not mark the end of violence, but rather its transformation into less visible forms. What remains are the detainees, the injured, the missing, families waiting for answers and children trying to survive in spaces that should protect them rather than recast them as a threat.

The barriers remain too: physical barriers, installed across the territory; institutional barriers, which determine who can cross and who is left out; and invisible barriers, erected around those awaiting a judicial decision or minors living with the uncertainty of possible deportation. As long as this logic prevails, violence will continue to exist, even after it ceases to make the headlines.

The question should no longer be solely what happened along that dividing line or who attempted to cross it. We cannot ignore the consolidation of a border regime that normalises exceptional measures as a form of governance. We must ask what happens to those affected before and after: in their neighbourhoods, in the courts, in centres for unaccompanied minors, in the streets and in the memories of those who have been left behind. The real question is no longer who managed to cross a border, but what human cost we are willing to accept to maintain it.