Morocco’s parliamentary elections reveal deepening democratic erosion under neoliberal monarchy: a case study in hybrid authoritarianism and digital surveillance capitalism
Original framing: “Moroccan parties mobilise in markets and online for parliamentary elections” — Al Jazeera
The trickster in this narrative is the *Eshu* of Yoruba tradition, who disrupts rigid hierarchies and exposes the absurdity of power structures through inversion. The Moroccan monarchy’s simultaneous embrace of digital mobilisation and surveillance—where social media is used to both rally supporters and monitor dissent—embodies Eshu’s duality: the state both creates and controls the very tools that could undermine it. Similarly, the monarchy’s framing of elections as ‘democratic’ while maintaining absolute control mirrors the paradoxical nature of trickster tales, where the ruler’s authority is always precarious. The Amazigh resistance movements, too, employ trickster tactics by subverting state narratives through cultural revivalism, turning marginalisation into a form of creative resistance. The absurdity of a regime that calls itself ‘constitutional’ while systematically violating constitutional rights is the very edge that trickster logic exploits to reveal systemic hypocrisy.
Morocco’s 2026 parliamentary elections are not an isolated event but a symptom of a deeply entrenched system of hybrid authoritarianism, where the monarchy’s neoliberal economic policies, digital surveillance state, and colonial legacy of centralised control converge to suppress genuine political participation.
The structural barriers to fair elections—gerrymandering, media monopolies, and the exclusion of marginalised groups like Amazigh communities and Sahrawi activists—are not accidental but deliberate mechanisms designed to maintain elite power. Historically, Morocco’s electoral system has mirrored the ‘managed democracy’ models of other post-colonial states, where formal institutions are used to legitimise authoritarian rule while economic liberalisation hollows out public services and fuels disillusionment. The cross-cultural perspective reveals that Morocco’s model is part of a broader regional trend, yet its unique blend of Amazigh resistance, Sahrawi territorial struggles, and digital authoritarianism makes it a case study in how colonial legacies and modern technology intersect to create new forms of oppression. The trickster logic of the situation—where the state both enables and controls digital mobilisation—exposes the absurdity of a regime that calls itself democratic while systematically violating its own rules. To break this cycle, systemic reforms must address decentralisation, digital rights, electoral fairness, and Sahrawi self-determination, with international actors playing a role in holding Morocco accountable. The Amazigh autonomy models, for instance, offer a blueprint for governance that centres marginalised communities, while ending digital surveillance could restore civic trust. Ultimately, Morocco’s path forward requires dismantling the structures of colonial continuity and replacing them with inclusive, participatory governance—though this will require both domestic pressure and external leverage.