Morocco's Youth Seek Change as Election Looms Over Jobs, Migration Crisis

Morocco's parliamentary elections on Wednesday arrive at a moment of profound fracture between the country's political establishment and its young people. The campaigns have deployed every tool of modern persuasion—viral football chants, promises of a million jobs, appeals to anti-Israel sentiment—yet for many voters under 35, who make up more than half the nation's 38.8 million people, the political machinery feels like theater disconnected from their actual lives.

The disconnect is rooted in numbers that speak to desperation. Youth unemployment, defined as ages 15 to 24, stands at 37.3 percent according to International Monetary Fund estimates. That statistic became flesh in late July when approximately 60,000 people—Moroccans and migrants from other nations—attempted to cross from the coastal town of Fnideq to the Spanish enclave of Ceuta. At least 100 died in what became the largest migration surge to the enclave in recent history. The crossing was not random; it was a response to the absence of opportunity at home. Hamza El Kharroubi, a 29-year-old activist from Tetouan, just 34 kilometers from where the migration began, now runs for parliament with the Environment and Sustainable Development Party. He frames the crisis plainly: "We want justice for the families of those who died crossing to Ceuta. We want compensation for their families." He sees the crossing as inseparable from economic hardship and unemployment.

The political landscape reflects Morocco's constitutional structure, where King Mohammed VI, now 63, retains executive power despite the parliament's 395 seats. The king appoints the prime minister from whichever party wins the most seats, but he also presides over the Council of Ministers, the country's most consequential policy body. This arrangement means that while parties compete vigorously, the crown's hand shapes the actual direction of governance. The current Prime Minister, Aziz Akhannouch, leads the National Rally of Independents and is seeking a second term with a pledge to create one million job opportunities by 2031. Political analyst Rachid Aourraz from the Moroccan Institute for Policy Analysis expressed skepticism about this promise, noting that the slogan has become overused and that the structural capacity to generate stable employment remains unclear.

Young activists have begun entering the political arena despite their skepticism. El Kharroubi was briefly arrested during Gen Z protests that erupted in September 2025, when demonstrators chanted for "freedom, dignity, and social justice" before escalating to calls for Prime Minister Akhannouch to leave office. More than 2,400 people faced prosecution following the unrest. Yet rather than retreat, some young people are choosing to compete within the system. El Kharroubi's strategy is modest but long-term: he does not expect to unseat established parties, but he aims to secure a parliamentary voice that will allow him and other young politicians to build strength toward 2031, when the next major political contest occurs.

The campaign itself has become a study in competing appeals to young voters. Fouzi Lekjaa, head of the Royal Moroccan Football Federation and a finance ministry official, joined the centrist Party of Authenticity and Modernity in July and has become a political sensation. Videos of his rallies have gone viral across a football-obsessed nation, with crowds chanting "Sir"—the iconic phrase from Morocco's 2022 World Cup run, when it became the first Arab and African nation to reach the semi-finals. Lekjaa has promised to elevate Morocco to sixth in the world in education and healthcare, matching the men's football team's FIFA ranking. The Islamist Justice and Development Party, seeking a political comeback, has taken a different approach, campaigning on a promise to end Morocco's diplomatic ties with Israel. The party's former leader, Abdelilah Benkirane, has called the 2020 normalization under the Abraham Accords a "mistake" and warns of "the dangers of Israel and Zionism in Morocco." This messaging resonates amid the Gaza war, which prompted weekly protests in the capital and the temporary closure of Israel's liaison office.

Yet the young voters these campaigns target remain largely unmoved. Siham Azeroual, 32, an environmental activist in the Atlas region, told the BBC: "I have no hope for this election. I'm ashamed of our political scene. It's a complete circus." Only 4 percent of Morocco's 15.8 million registered voters are aged 18 to 24, a stark underrepresentation of the demographic that faces the most acute economic pressure. Many young Moroccans, including those in the diaspora—Montreal alone has roughly 104,000 according to the 2016 census—have expressed their frustrations outside the country, where they can speak without fear of repercussions. Hiba, a 27-year-old living in Canada who co-organized Gen Z protests in Montreal, noted that while she would have voted had she found a proxy, she sees some progress: "Gen Z protests didn't go in vain. We achieved something. At least now we see more debates with young people on state TV."

Azeroual, who lived through both the 2011 constitutional reform movement and the recent Gen Z uprising, believes change requires more than electoral participation. "I think young people should focus on the microscale," she said, "rather than running for office, helping build communities and connecting with people and then building up to the top." Yet despite her reservations about the campaigns, she plans to vote. The election will determine which party forms the next government, but the deeper question—whether any political arrangement can address the structural unemployment and lack of opportunity that drove 60,000 people to risk their lives crossing to Ceuta—remains unresolved.