Morocco’s Kingdom of Police

When conceptualizing the structures of power and governance in Morocco, appearances can be deceiving.

On paper, all of the components of a constitutional parliamentary monarchy are there: a king who rules as head of state, regular parliamentary elections, a recently reformed constitution and a government comprised of a multi-party coalition.

In practice, however, the picture is more opaque. King Mohammed VI has largely withdrawn from the public eye amid prolonged soujourns abroad. Parliament wields little substantial power, and voter turnout remains relatively low. The government has taken few concrete measures to implement the promises of the 2011 constitutional reforms. Moreover, the governing coalition is led by Aziz Akhannouch, who, on top of recently adding prime minister to his extensive record, is a close personal friend of the king and one of Africa’s richest billionaires.

A deeper look reveals a consistent trend over the past few years: the expansion of the security apparatus and its unchecked power. When Mohammed VI ascended to the throne in 1999, one of his first steps was to remove Driss Basri, longtime interior minister and muscle of his father, King Hassan II. Basri had overseen the worst years of state violence in Morocco, earning him a reputation for brutality. With his removal, many believed that the years of the Moroccan police state were in the past. Events in recent years have proven otherwise.

In terms of domestic policy, state agencies have waged a steady crackdown on journalists, protestors and anyone who expresses views critical of the government. These measures have had a stifling effect on press freedom, freedom of assembly and freedom of expression. With regard to foreign policy, authorities have aggressively enforced border control for the European Union and made its claims to sovereignty over the Western Sahara a litmus test to determine whether countries are deemed friend or foe.

Morocco’s normalization agreement with Israel in 2020 has expanded the country’s arsenal of carceral technology—namely surveillance and intelligence-gathering—into the public sphere. Together, these developments indicate that the security forces have ensured their grip on power, transforming Morocco into a carceral state par excellence.

 

The Police State Strikes Back

 

After the 2011 uprisings, Morocco was widely regarded as having weathered the storm, especially in comparison to civil wars and foreign interventions elsewhere in the region. Between constitutional reforms that promised to diffuse executive power and elections that placed a new party in government, propagandists boasted about the country’s “exceptionalism.”[1]

Toward the end of 2016, however, the smokescreen began to dissipate. A pivotal event occurred in the northern city of Al-Hoceima—a historical center of resistance in the Rif region—when police confiscated and trashed the produce of a fish vendor, Mohcine Fikri. Desperate to retrieve the source of his livelihood, Fikri jumped into the back of the garbage truck. The police ordered the driver to initiate the compacter, and Fikri died instantly. The consequences recalled the self-immolation of Tunisian fruit vendor, Mohammed Bouazizi, in protest of the police confiscating his wares, which sparked the uprising in that country in December 2010.

What began as a crowd of firsthand eyewitnesses to Fikri’s killing swelled into the biggest protests in Morocco since 2011. Dubbed the Hirak Movement, the mobilizations drew the support and attention of Moroccans throughout the country and in the diaspora. The timing of these protests was especially inopportune for the state, which was hosting dignitaries and foreign media for the United Nations COP22 meeting.

During the initial months of the Hirak protests, authorities reacted with a series of statements aimed at quelling the spread of dissent. Undeterred, the protests grew in numbers and frequency. The protestors implemented a strategic organization that structured the movement around a core leadership and issued explicit demands, including state investments to build a university, a hospital and a cancer treatment facility. The Rif region, historically, has suffered from regime neglect relative to other regions. It currently holds the highest rate of cancer patients in all of Morocco, with heightened incidences stemming from the colonial period when Spain used chemical weapons to subdue anti-colonial resistance there. But despite the fact that an estimated 80 percent of Moroccans who have been diagnosed with cancer are in the Rif, there is no local cancer facility.

Authorities, however, faced an obstacle in addressing these demands: Prime Minister Abdelilah Benkirane, the populist leader of the Islamist Party of Justice and Development (PJD) who had won a second consecutive term in the 2016 elections, had yet to form a coalition. As a result, cabinet seats remained vacant and the public sector risked coming to a standstill.

This confluence of widespread protests and the absence of a ruling government gave the state ammunition to escalate policing under the guise of national security. What followed were a series of measures that marked the beginning of the security forces’ unfettered reign under the patronage of the king.

The first indication that Morocco was entering a new era of policing occurred in mid-March 2017 when Mohammed VI announced that Prime Minister Benkirane would be sacked over his failure to form a coalition. The move marked a major reversal of the 2011 reforms, which pledged that members of the government would be determined by election results. Benkirane had reportedly refused to concede key ministerial portfolios to junior coalition partners, namely the ministries of justice, finance and foreign affairs. He had also gained a reputation for openly critiquing those in the king’s inner circle. Contrary to the post-2011 claim that the palace functions above and independent from party politics, the decision to oust Benkirane signalled that the king was heavily embedded in the political landscape.

The second indicator was the king’s July 2017 Throne Day speech, the annual celebration of Mohammed VI’s ascension. On this occasion, he dedicated a significant amount of his remarks to lambast public officials. “Some stakeholders have perverted politics, diverting it away from its lofty objectives,” he said. “If the King of Morocco is not convinced of the way political activity is conducted and if he does not trust a number of politicians, what are the citizens left with?”[2]

In contrast to the unusually harsh tone of the rest of the speech, the king lavished praise on the security forces. Citing the recent Hirak protests in Al-Hoceima, he stated that “law enforcement services have…bravely and patiently fulfilled their duty, showing restraint and commitment to the rule of law as they maintained security and stability.” He also countered critiques over the heavy hand of police, asserting that their actions refute “what some have referred to as the ‘security approach,’ as if Morocco were sitting on top of a volcano, or as if each household and each citizen were being watched over by a policeman.”[3] The king’s barefaced endorsement of police violence granted the security forces carte blanche just days after peaceful protesters had faced tear gas, live fire and widespread arrests.

In the months that followed, the king sacked a number of government ministers and public officials over their mismanagement of development projects, despite the fact that some had only been serving in their ministerial positions for a few months. These dismissals were yet another move that effectively neutralized the PJD from populist bastion to docile pawn. Meanwhile, dozens of protesters who were arrested for their involvement in the Hirak movement faced the beginning of their trials. Many remained in isolated detention, some for as along as two hundred days, before being sentenced for up to twenty years. Their convictions were among the first high profile cases following the October 2017 judiciary reforms that shifted the public prosecutor’s office from the Ministry of Justice to the High Judicial Council—a body whose members are appointed and overseen by the monarchy.

Overall, 2017 was a year of major setbacks for elected institutions, civil society and judicial independence. For the security forces, however, it was only the beginning of their ascent.

 

The Domestic Carceral State

 

Morocco’s security apparatus is comprised of three main institutions. First is the General Directorate for Territorial Surveillance (DGST), a domestic agency that oversees national intelligence and is directed by Abdellatif Hammouchi. In 2014, two months after the beginning of what became a wave of of ISIS-related attacks throughout Europe and the Middle East, it was announced that the DGST would be overseeing the operations of a new agency: the Central Bureau of Judicial Investigations, dubbed “Morocco’s FBI.”[4]

Second is the General Directorate for National Security (DGSN), which controls the police. In 2015, the king appointed Hammouchi to direct this agency in addition to the DGST, thereby consolidating the two most important policing agencies under one appointed official.

The third institution is the General Directorate for Territorial Surveillance (DGED), which has purview over all foreign intelligence-related matters. Its director is Yassine Mansouri. Hammouchi and Mansouri are high-ranking officials who embody the strong arms of the makhzen, the tangled network of public sector power, private sector capital and religious support that upholds the Moroccan state. Both men hold positions with no term limits and manage their respective agencies with no oversight, answering solely to the king.

By 2016, Hammouchi had carried out a major facelift for Morocco’s police force, including the implementation of biometric data, digitization of records, the installation of over 900 security cameras and issuance of new uniforms. Since 2017, Hammouchi has steadily woven the DGSN and DGST into nearly every fabric of Moroccan society.

Part of the reason for this profusion of power stems from the king’s recurring and prolonged absences abroad, beginning in 2018 when he went to France for heart surgery. Since then, foreign media outlets have fixated on the king’s penchant for escaping into reclusion abroad. For example, in October of 2023, Spain’s El Pais covered his absence from Morocco under the headline, “Mohammed VI, a silent king with far-reaching powers.”[5]  Earlier that year, Britain’s The Economist reported on “The mystery of Morocco’s missing king,” and in 2022 Israel’s Ha’aretz published an article observing that, “Morocco’s Economy Is Sinking, but Its King Prefers the Bright Lights of Paris.”[6] On the other hand, the story of the king’s protracted sojourns is not widely covered in Moroccan media outlets—a result of the crackdown on press freedom in recent years, which has seen indepentent news outlets eradicated and many journalists prosecuted in flawed trials.

After the king’s 2017 speech bestowing the royal seal of approval on the security forces, it soon became clear that the state’s policing agencies were managing day-to-day affairs in the country. Two major events exemplifying this control were the COVID-19 pandemic and an earthquake in 2023 that devastated rural areas in the High Atlas.

Like many other countries, Morocco swiftly responded to the pandemic by declaring a state of emergency in March 2020. In addition to curfews, mask mandates and other health-related measures, the government officially criminalized any speech it deemed critical of its pandemic response. The punishment for such an offense could be up to three months in prison and a 1300 dirham ($132 US) fine. According to Amnesty International, over 90,000 Moroccans were prosecuted for violating the health emergency law, including a number of citizen journalists and social media users.

Then, after a devastating earthquake struck the region of Al-Haouz in early September 2023, the security forces were tasked with the initial emergency response efforts. Survivors lamented the country’s selective acceptance of foreign assistance, the sluggish pace of rescue operations and the uneven distribution of aid. On the other hand, there was a quick imposition of checkpoints and bureaucratic restrictions on burials and grassroots aid caravans.

The pandemic and earthquake were the most disastrous mass casualty events in Morocco’s recent history: Over 16,000 died during the pandemic and over 2,900 died from the earthquake. By tasking the security forces to oversee the management of these humanitarian crises, the palace implicitly demonstrated that “security” was its primary concern while the immediate human needs of the population were relegated as secondary. Furthermore, these emergencies provided a convenient cover for the expansion of the security forces’ reach under the guise of public health and safety. The swift imposition of restrictions on movement and imprisonment for infractions reinforced and elevated carcerality as the top priority on the agenda and cemented the hold of the police state at the expense of human life.

 

The Foreign Carceral State

 

The shift toward privileging “national security” in Morocco’s domestic policy has also permeated its foreign policy. On the one hand, the conflation of domestic and foreign security isn’t new. It largely stems from the Western Saharan conflict that has engulfed Morocco in an ongoing territorial dispute with the pro-independence Polisario Front since 1975. What is new, however, is the intensification of Morocco’s zealousness with regard to its claims over the territory, souring diplomatic ties with some countries and deepening relations with others. Morocco has also increasingly integrated surveillance and intelligence within its foreign policy approach. But the most important development in Morocco’s carceral foreign policy shift has been normalization with Israel in December 2020.

After Morocco and the Polisario Front consented to a UN-brokered ceasefire in 1991, there was no major armed incident between the two sides—although little to no progress was made toward a lasting resolution. That all began to change in early 2017 when Morocco commenced what it described as a “road clearing” operation in the Guerguerat buffer zone between Western Sahara and Mauritania. In response, the Polisario deployed its troops nearby. With only two yards separating the two sides, this confrontation ushered in the most intense period since the ceasefire in 1991. In 2020, the Polisario Front declared an end to the ceasefire and announced that it would resume its armed campaign against Morocco. Less than a month later, US President Donald Trump officially recognized Morocco’s sovereignty over the Western Sahara in exchange for Morocco agreeing to normalize relations with Israel.

The months following the normalization deal were among the most turbulent in Morocco’s diplomatic history. Likely driven by the presumption that other US-allied governments would follow suit in recognizing Morocco’s claim to sovereignty over the Western Sahara, the kingdom became increasingly emboldened—especially toward its European neighbors.

For years, it had been reported that Morocco used migration as a bargaining chip with the European Union to force their hand in decisions that would favor Morocco when it came to the Western Sahara. In mid-2021, this strategy was on full display as a record number of 6,000 migrants crossed into the Spanish enclave of Cueta from Morocco, 1,500 of whom were minors. According to media reports, “Moroccan border guards stood by and watched as migrants took to the sea to try to reach the enclave.”[7] The incident sparked a major domestic crisis in Spain, resulting in the sacking of Spain’s foreign minister. One of the immediate reasons behind Morocco’s decision to weaponize migration against Spain was that Brahim Ghali, leader of the Polisario, was seeking medical treatment in Spain for COVID-19. In March 2022, Spain announced it was changing its position and moving forward with recoginizing Moroccan sovereignty over the Western Sahara. Soon after, both Morocco and Spain jointly carried out a violent operation aimed at stifling the movement of migrants, resulting in over 20 casualties. The episode epitomized the excesses of state violence and illustrated Morocco’s continued role as the European Union’s border enforcer.

Morocco’s deepening ties to Israel have also hastened its transformation into a modern carceral state. Since 2020, Morocco has been accused of using Israeli-produced spyware to surveil activists, journalists and even world leaders, including Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez and French President Emmanuel Macron. In the summer of 2024, it was announced that Morocco would acquire a $1 billion spy satellite from Israel in a deal that will last for about five years. In the face of overwhelming public opposition to normalization with Israel, Moroccan authorities have doubled down, incarcerating ordinary Moroccans over social media comments critical of Israel. The latest example is the case of Abdul Rahman Zankad, a Moroccan activist who was sentenced to five years in prison and fined 50,000 Moroccan dirhams over “incitement” and “insulting a constitutional institution.”[8]

As more states across the globe veer further toward carcerality, Morocco remains at the forefront of advancing methods and developing policies. Much of the efficacy of this global carceral regime hinges upon the ability of states to cooperate with one another, exchange information and uphold each other’s carceral agendas via transnational repression. Morocco has been central in all of the above and operates with near total impunity. The rise of surveillance technologies, deepening ties between security institutions and companies as well as an alignment of political goals centered around sustaining illegal occupations are just some of the elements of this global carceral system.

Moreover, Morocco serves as a useful case for neighboring and distant countries to observe and glean lessons on the most effective strategies and tactics. Likewise, Morocco has adopted policies by observing allies and foes, both near and far. In the process, what has ensued is an ever-evolving global carceral agenda, in which Morocco continues to serve as an integral node.

 

[Samia Errazzouki is a Mellon Postdoctoral Fellow in the Humanities at Stanford University and former Morocco-based journalist.]

 

This issue of Middle East Report, Carceral Realities and Freedom Dreams, has been produced in partnership with the Orfalea Center for Global and International Studies at the University of California, Santa Barbara, and Security in Context.

 

This article appears in MER issue 312 “Carceral Realities & Freedom Dreams.”

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Endnotes

 

[1] David Pollock, “A Moroccan Exception?,” The Washington Institute for Near East Policy, December 16, 2023.

[2] “Full Text of Royal Speech on the Occasion of the Throne Day,” Agence Marocaine De Presse (MAP), July 29, 2017.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Saad Eddine Lamzouwaq, “El Khiam Outlines Achievements of Morocco’s FBI,” Morocco World News, April 16, 2017.

[5] Juan Carlos Sanz, “Mohammed VI, a silent king with far-reaching powers,” El Pais, September 18, 2023.

[6] Nicolas Pelham, “The mystery of Morocco’s missing king,” The Economist, April 13, 2023; Zvi Bar’el, “Morocco’s Economy Is Sinking, but Its King Prefers the Bright Lights of Paris,” Haaretz, September 22, 2022.

[7] “Migrants reach Spain’s Ceuta enclave in record numbers,” BBC, May 18, 2021.

[8] Sam Metz, “A Moroccan activist was sentenced to 5 years for criticizing the country’s ties to Israel,” AP, April 9, 2024.