Ceuta’s Collapse Is a Warning: Disinformation, Mafias and the Weaponization of Migration
The unprecedented crisis that struck the Spanish autonomous city of Ceuta at the end of July was not a spontaneous border rush. According to Carmela Ríos, a journalist from Ceuta and an expert in social media and disinformation, it was the culmination of a carefully nurtured online narrative, amplified through encrypted messaging apps, that convinced thousands of people in Morocco that Spain’s southern border was effectively open. Ríos has been monitoring the crisis since the last weekend of July, and she points to a decisive judicial ruling as the starting point. On July 8, the Supreme Court eliminated the legal mechanism that had allowed the immediate rejection of migrants who entered Spanish territory by swimming, because there was no physical containment element at the sea border, unlike the land border. From that moment, manipulated and misleading reports began to circulate widely, creating the false belief that entry had become easier and that the Spanish authorities could no longer expel those who made it across. The narrative shifted from cautious hope to an outright slogan: “the border is open.” This message, repeated endlessly across social media and private groups, set the stage for the mass crossing that followed, drawing thousands of people toward Ceuta and turning a migration incident into a full-blown humanitarian and political emergency.
Ríos explains that the viralization of these calls was not merely spontaneous. While there was indeed an atmosphere that encouraged many young people to try their luck, the scale and coordination of the movement point to deeper forces at work. She notes that from July 8 onward, accounts spreading the “border is open” narrative multiplied, alongside advertisements for transport to the border and even for the sale of gear designed for crossing into Spanish territory. These messages were forwarded through WhatsApp and Telegram groups, creating false expectations for thousands and thousands of people. The trigger, she says, came on July 27 and 28, when large numbers of people attempted to cross by swimming. Among them were two young sportswomen who, after reaching Spanish soil, made the victory sign with their fingers. The photograph, published by the newspaper El Faro and then shared massively on Instagram, became one of the most viewed pieces of content produced by that media outlet. It sent an unmistakable signal: “This is possible, it can be done, there has been a relaxation of the Spanish law.” That single image, Ríos argues, was more powerful than any official warning, because it visually confirmed the narrative that social media had been building for weeks.
Behind the logistical preparation, Ríos identifies a large and lucrative market of expectation for migration to Spain and Europe. She stresses that Ceuta is rarely the final destination for these migrants; many intend to move onward to other European countries. The organized groups that profit from clandestine migration prefer private messaging channels, which are harder to monitor and regulate. Ríos insists that Morocco has an obligation, under agreements signed with the European Union, to combat these groups, and that its role is fundamental. The fact that Moroccan authorities did not deploy a police presence scaled to the tragedy that unfolded raises serious questions. “Why did Morocco not foresee this?” she asks. “It allowed it, but it got out of hand: 80,000 people did not appear at the border by magic.” While the full picture remains unclear, everything points to mafias that charged migrants for the crossing, profiting from the chaos and from the desperation of those seeking a better life. The confluence of the Supreme Court ruling, the frantic activity in WhatsApp groups, the mass crossing action, and the trading of crossing equipment created a perfect storm. In Ríos’s view, the atmosphere of expectation was deliberately cultivated, and the mafias were ready to exploit it.
Comparing the current crisis to the previous mass entry in 2021, Ríos highlights profound differences. The 2021 episode, though enormous in sheer numbers, was resolved very quickly because the majority of those who entered soon left. There was a migratory influx with a political reason behind it, but the volume was manageable, and returns were allowed, allowing the city to recover its normality within weeks. What is happening now, she says, is not a border incident; it is the collapse of a city. When the number of people entering equals the entire resident population, the strain on housing, health services, sanitation, and public order becomes absolute. No city can absorb such a shock without breaking down. The social media disinformation that preceded the crossing made things worse, because it distorted expectations and encouraged many who would otherwise not have attempted the journey. Ríos also observes a new and alarming dimension in the aftermath: the spread of false health rumors. She cites claims that after the settlement on the beach of El Trampolín, the waters of Ceuta have been contaminated due to a tuberculosis outbreak. Those claims, she says, are lies, but they are part of a broader pattern of disinformation that continues to destabilize the city even after the immediate emergency has passed.
Ríos frames the entire episode as a lesson in hybrid warfare. “Disinformation on social media is a tool of hybrid warfare,” she warns, and the crisis in Ceuta should serve as a wake-up call for those who believe that wars are only fought with weapons. Using people as a weapon, she adds, is very easy to do, especially in a country where there is so little respect for human rights. The migration flow was not simply a humanitarian event; it was a pressure mechanism, and the digital campaign that preceded it was an integral part of that mechanism. The lies that flooded social media favored the pull effect and distorted everything, creating the illusion that the border was open and that entry was guaranteed. For Ríos, one of the key lessons for Europe is that there is still no real conviction that cyberintelligence and digital monitoring are important. The EU’s response has been divided, and it lacks the unity of action that was seen in other migration crises. The most desirable outcome, she suggests, would be for Morocco to be a trusted neighbor and a reliable partner, but the crisis has shown that this trust can be broken, leaving a very large margin of vulnerability. The relationship with Morocco needs to be articulated differently, and the EU itself must become more directly involved in managing the southern border.
The crisis in Ceuta is therefore not over. Even as the immediate waves of crossing have subsided, the disinformation machine continues to operate. Ríos explains that disinformation is difficult to quantify, but it is always present and has had a very relevant weight in all phases of the crisis. First, it modified the narrative with many lies that favored the pull effect and the massive entry. Then, once the pressure was on, it distorted everything, including the perception of the city’s health and safety. The tuberculosis rumor is just one example of how false information can deepen fear and further strain social cohesion. Ríos insists that resources must be provided to prevent a repeat of this episode. There is a high probability, she says, that this will happen again if Europe does not take the threat seriously. The combination of social media, human desperation, and geopolitical manipulation is a volatile mixture, and Ceuta has become a testing ground. Her conclusion is stark: the city was not the victim of a spontaneous migration wave, but of a coordinated information operation that weaponized people themselves. The lesson for Europe is urgent: the southern border is not just a physical frontier, but a digital battlefield, and the next attack may already be being prepared inside the very private messaging groups that made this crisis possible. The EU must decide whether it will continue to delegate border management to a partner that has demonstrated its ability to switch from cooperation to coercion, or whether it will finally build the political, digital, and humanitarian tools needed to face a reality in which disinformation is as dangerous as any weapon.