How Israel and the European far right tried to exploit Ceuta

Published 3 August 2026 · europe

The scenes from Ceuta were tragic. Thousands of desperate people attempted to cross from Morocco into the Spanish enclave, which left dozens dead and reignited

The scenes from Ceuta were tragic. Thousands of desperate people attempted to cross from Morocco into the Spanish enclave, which left dozens dead and reignited one of Europe’s most contentious political debates. Yet almost as quickly as the humanitarian dimensions of the crisis emerged, they were eclipsed by something else. Within hours, social media was filled with warnings of an “Islamic invasion”. The hashtag #StopIslam spread rapidly among far-right networks. Politicians who had long campaigned against immigration seized on the events as proof that Europe faced not simply a border challenge, but a civilisational one. Calls for tougher border controls quickly followed, while Italy announced it was reintroducing border checks with Spain. The speed of that transformation is perhaps the most revealing aspect of the crisis. Before investigators had established the full circumstances of the crossings, before many of those who died had even been identified, prominent politicians, commentators and online campaigners already appeared certain of what Ceuta meant. That certainty deserves as much scrutiny as the tragedy itself. The question to pose right now, therefore, is who benefited from the way the events in Ceuta were immediately interpreted. The beneficiaries were quickly apparent. Europe’s nationalist right found fresh material to reinforce long-standing warnings about migration and Islam. Anti-Muslim campaigners gained another opportunity to portray Muslims as an internal security threat. At the same time, the events fed into a broader narrative advanced by the Israeli government and echoed by its political allies in Europe: that Muslim immigration, rising criticism of Israel and concerns about anti-Semitism are increasingly intertwined.

That narrative has become more pronounced since the war in Gaza. As public outrage over Israel’s genocide has grown across Europe, Israeli officials have repeatedly argued that changing European attitudes are driven less by the scale of destruction in Gaza than by demographic change and the growing political influence of Muslim communities. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has been one of them. In speeches and public remarks, he has portrayed Israel and Europe as partners in a shared struggle against radical Islam, mass migration and what he describes as a broader challenge to Western civilisation. In this telling, Israel is no longer simply defending itself; it is defending Europe itself. This framing has profound political consequences. It shifts the debate away from Israel’s genocidal conduct in Gaza and towards the identity of those criticising it. Opposition to Israeli policy is no longer presented primarily as a response to humanitarian catastrophe, occupation or violations of international law. Instead, it is increasingly framed as a consequence of demographic change and the political influence of Muslim communities. Never mind that across European nations, majorities of up to 78 percent hold unfavourable views of Israel – nations where Muslims make up less than 10 percent. Still, political leaders including Viktor Orban, Geert Wilders and Marine Le Pen stick to this narrative, expressing strong support for Israel while pursuing hard-line anti-immigration agendas. In Britain, figures such as Tommy Robinson have similarly presented Israel as the front line in a broader civilisational struggle with Islam. Increasingly, support for Israel has become intertwined with a wider political project defined by opposition to immigration, multiculturalism and Islam.