Spain’s king and queen set to visit enclave Ceuta where migration crisis reveals rifts

Located in North Africa, the small Spanish territory of Ceuta is an unusual city, where Muslim and Christian communities are almost equal in number.

The enclave, which Spain's King Felipe VI and Queen Letizia will visit on Tuesday, is experiencing an extended migration crisis, which has revealed cultural and religious fault lines in a place touting itself as a symbol of coexistence. Some claim those divisions were there all along.

The situation erupted after roughly 80,000 individuals crossed into the Spanish territory during late July from neighbouring Morocco, spurred by false online rumours claiming that Spain had opened the border.

Although most departed within days, up to 15,000 migrants remained, leaving the city under severe pressure and pitting local residents directly against one another.

The burden of this fallout has been felt unequally.

Many remaining migrants have taken shelter across Muslim neighbourhoods, sleeping on streets, in doorways, or in makeshift camps and facilities operated by NGOs and residents. Local communities report that the chaos has continued endlessly, worsening their ongoing public frustration.

"What do they want? That we feed all of Ceuta?" asked Mohamed Susi, a resident of El Principe, a Muslim-majority neighbourhood, in early October.

Hundreds of young male migrants assembled outside a church near his home prior to a visiting minister's appearance.

"Find a solution already!" Susi exclaimed, slamming the door.

Beside one of the city’s central mosques, helpers and workers with a Muslim charity filled plastic containers with hot lentil and pasta dishes on a day in late September.

Halima Ahmed, spokesperson for the Luna Blanca charity, stated that between 3,000 and 5,000 meals per day are given to migrants still in the city. The volunteers and workers have received threats and insults for doing so, she noted.

"There's tension," Ahmed said. "People are fed up with the situation."

Ceuta's downtown, frequented by Christians and Muslims, regained a sense of normalcy within days of the initial rush. People returned to restaurants, bars and open-air terraces. Shops reopened. But signs of the city's discontent abound. Storefronts carry signs that read: “Ceuta stands its ground — Ceuta won't give up!” while the flags of Spain and Ceuta hang from balconies.

Spanish police and thousands of soldiers have been deployed, patrolling the city center and areas near the border.

Residents have staged regular protests as the crisis persisted. At a demonstration outside the city government in early October, around 200 people demanded solutions from Spain's left-wing national government. Men and women draped in Ceuta's black-and-white flag banged on pots and pans and expressed their dissatisfaction with what they described as the Spanish government's slow response. Very few of those in attendance, if any, were Muslim.

Francisco Luna, 45, the owner of an auto repair shop, said coexistence has been frayed. He described the atmosphere in one word: “terrible."

Some Muslims in the city are protecting migrants, he said, which made him question their loyalty to Ceuta.

“We have always lived together well,” Luna said. “Muslims, Christians, Jews, Hindus — we’ve never had any problems. But now, I do see it, because there are Muslims who defend the (migrants) from Morocco.”

Ceuta has belonged to Spain for centuries. Its 84,000 residents are Spanish and European Union citizens. Many are from the mainland, while most of the city's Muslims trace their roots to Morocco. Many have relatives there and speak Moroccan Arabic. The city has smaller Jewish and Hindu populations.

The territory is poorer than much of Spain, and Muslims experience higher rates of poverty compared to the rest of the exclave, a 2025 report published by the Catholic charitable organisation Caritas said. It reported that 44 per cent of Muslim households were marginalised, compared to 28 per cent of the city's overall population.

Some predominantly Muslim neighbourhoods on the city's peripheries, with narrow and steep maze like streets, have high crime rates. Muslims and Christians frequent downtown shops, lively plazas and broad avenues, but the Muslim-majority neighbourhoods see less mixing.

Local politician Mohamed Mustafa described the divisions as predating the most recent border crisis. But he acknowledged it has made things worse. Ceuta has lived through previous migrant surges at its border, but this summer's was the deadliest.

“The image of coexistence is a mirage," Mustafa said. "It’s a tourism slogan, but it doesn’t reflect reality.”

On Tuesday, Spain's royals will attend a ceremony at a Muslim cemetery in the city to memorialise the more than 140 migrants who died attempting to cross in July. Dozens of unidentified migrants were buried there.

As the crisis stretches into its third month, Ceuta's residents agree on one thing: they are tired of the situation.

When migrants constructed a vast makeshift tent camp on a beach, Emilio Muñoz, who lives in a house close by, decided he needed to leave.

He pitched a tent outside the city government to protest, demanding action, and began sleeping there, too. Soon, around a dozen others joined him, sleeping on and off for a month until the beachside tent camp was fully demolished when Spanish police removed a few thousand migrants.

Muñoz said his demonstration was not done to mock the migrants. “People say this is pantomime, but I don't make light of the situation.”

He described Ceuta as a city of different religious and ethnic groups working and living together, but acknowledged that something had been damaged.

“I do see a rift,” Muñoz said, “but we have to move forward.”