ONE MONTH AFTER THE IMPLEMENTATION OF THE CEAS REFORM: FIRST CONSEQUENCES IN LAMPEDUSA AND ON THE PEOPLE
On June 12th, the reform of the Common European Asylum System (CEAS) came into effect. Looking back at the first month since the pact's implementation — the period between June 12th and July 12th, 2026 — we recorded 1,378 people reaching Lampedusa, compared to 2,504 during the same period in 2025: a decrease of over 55%.
As Maldusa, we are physically present on the island, the point of entry for most people arriving in Italy. And hence we witness first-hand the developments in the EU's border regime. Although it has been one of the symbols of Europe's inhumane migration policies for over a decade now, Lampedusa rarely makes the news, except when major shipwrecks occur or when the Pope stops by for a visit.
In case you missed it: yes, the Pope came in early July. He brought along speeches on the importance of humanity and love for one's neighbor, and the renaming of the military pier where people are disembarked after his predecessor, complete with a commemorative plaque that quickly became a popular selfie backdrop for tourists. Signs of his visit remain in some newly paved streets including unprecedented painted traffic lanes and crosswalks throughout the island.
However, the toilets at the pier still lack running water. Minors continue to be routinely subjected to illegal interrogations by Frontex immediately upon arrival. Decreto 100, the first measure implementing the CEAS pact on Italian territory, creates a loophole allowing for exemption from accelerated procedures for people who meet vulnerability criteria. And an unusual calm reigns at the pier, as fewer and fewer people are reaching Lampedusa.
But let's take it one step at a time.
The reform of the CEAS constitutes an agreement at the European Union level that—under the pretext of better "managing" migration within the EU—significantly worsens the situation of people on the move. The very notion of the need to "manage" migration shows how consistently the right and conservatives continue to frame human movement as something that must be controlled, rather than as a fundamental condition that has always existed, that has shaped all of humanity, and that will continue to exist forever. Therefore, by presenting migration as a "problem," EU politicians pave the way not only for massive spending that benefits the security and arms industries, but also for the direct and indirect killing of thousands of human beings, turning the sea, the coasts, and the desert into graveyards.
Long before the implementation of the CEAS reform which was decided over two years ago, activists on both shores of the Mediterranean—as well as along the Atlantic route, which is all too often overlooked when discussing migration to the EU—have been warning of the risks it poses in terms of a severe deterioration of human rights, access to international protection, and legal assistance for people on the move. The reform represents an institutionalized attack on freedom of movement for all and legitimizes the militarization of the EU's borders, funded with public money amid the silence—and thus the tacit consent—of Europeans.
Although its effects are already becoming evident and represent a disturbing increase in the number of deaths, forced disappearances, interceptions, and deportations, this reform does not represent a major course change within the EU. It is yet another disheartening step that reinforces the racist laws and policies of a continent where the global trend to fascism is a reality. Fascists—and with them, conservative forces across Europe—create and exploit the rhetoric of fear to justify massive assaults on human lives and human rights.
Those who survive the crossing are now being "received" in Europe under new procedures designed to increase both the number of people deported as well as the speed of deportations. In short, Europe has devised a plan to deprive people of their rights on a large scale.
To achieve this, the EU has come up with several mechanisms that deserve critical scrutiny, such as the legal fiction of "non-entry". Behind this terminology lies a sort of strange, racist magic trick embedded in the law: from a legal standpoint, if a person is physically present on Italian territory—such as in Lampedusa, right in front of us—but does not possess an EU passport or a visa, they can be treated as if they were not physically present. Therefore, entry into the EU is no longer tied to geography and physical reality, but is deferred until a person has gone through the required procedures. This legal fiction has bitter consequences: a whole range of rights that apply to a person the moment they are within the country's borders vanish. This allows, among other things, for the prolonged detention of people who have committed no crime.
To implement the CEAS in Italy and incorporate it into Italian law, an initial national measure was introduced on the same day the pact entered into force: the "Decreto 100", officially titled "Decreto-Legge N° 100/2026." This decree establishes, for example, that the fiction of non-entry applies not only at the borders but can also be extended to other parts of the country, even those far from the borders. In this way, the procedures intended for the borders can be carried out elsewhere, and the Italian government can implement them not only at the Lampedusa Hotspot but also at Centri d'Accoglienza, CAS facilities, and other structures scattered throughout the country.
In Lampedusa, we have observed that people are sometimes transferred from the Hotspot to other parts of Italy after just two days at the Hotspot, even though the CEAS states that the screening procedure takes up to seven days. We question what can possibly be determined in just two days, and how health screenings, identification checks, and so-called vulnerabilities assesments which are fundamental to determining people's legal pathways can be carried out in such a short time. We wonder how legal counseling regarding the few rights still guaranteed, as well as access to support and assistance services, can be provided in such a short time.
The extension of border procedures to various parts of Italy also means that, in order to monitor developments resulting from the implementation of the pact, a broad presence of activists is needed throughout the country.
Another aspect of the pact and Decreto 100 concerns people considered vulnerable due to social or health-related circumstances.
In theory, the CEAS reform stipulates that the "fulfilment" of vulnerability criteria—being a minor, having been subjected to gender-based violence, being a victim of human trafficking, belonging to the LGBTIQ+ community, being a survivor of torture, just to name a few—should exempt people on the move from accelerated border procedures and ensure they receive specific procedural safeguards, regardless of their country of origin. The CEAS pact's framework allows for a single exception: the case of a "crisis."
If a "crisis" is declared, all people, regardless of their vulnerability, may be subject to accelerated procedures. However, the definition of "crisis" in the CEAS texts remains vague, thus creating a huge loophole that allows for the declaration of this exceptional situation based on unclear criteria. This means there is a high risk that the already meager procedural safeguards for people on the move could be reduced in a virtually arbitrary manner.
In Lampedusa, during the first month after the CEAS came into effect, we observed that the number of people falling under the vulnerability criteria is higher than before. Most of the people arriving in Lampedusa have traveled through Libya and, in many cases, have personally endured torture in detention centers and/or slavery; many have been intercepted and turned back at least once by Libyan militias supported and funded by the EU. These experiences make many people arriving on the island "eligible" for classification as vulnerable.
Currently, vulnerability is assessed at the Hotspot by the EUAA (the European Asylum Agency), while at other points of arrival in Italy, it may also be assessed by the IOM.
However, Decreto 100 provides a way to circumvent the protection of vulnerable persons from accelerated procedures even outside of a declared "crisis."
According to ASGI (Association for Legal Studies on Immigration) [1], it is the Italian government's obligation not only to conduct vulnerability assessments but also to ensure that procedural safeguards are respected. This results in a practice whereby proceedings involving vulnerable individuals can be conducted in centers designated for accelerated procedures despite their recognized status. For this to be possible, the Italian government only needs to find specialized agencies willing to collaborate within these centers. When this happens, the only way for the person concerned to exit the accelerated procedure and gain access to an ordinary one is to find a judge willing to engage in a legal battle. It has yet to be clarified whether people in the centers have access to legal assistance though and how such access can be guaranteed if it is not provided.
It seems important to emphasize, however, that the type of procedure to which people recognized as vulnerable are subjected is only one of the highly problematic aspects of the CEAS and Decree 100. The mere requirement that people on the move recount their experiences, traumas, and identity under pressure before authorities and strangers without having the time to establish a relationship of trust makes it highly likely that many people will not disclose their vulnerabilities and, as a result, will be denied access to their right to specific procedural safeguards.
have been intercepted by Libyan militias in the past few weeks
In the first month since the pact took effect, we have seen, as mentioned, a drop in arrivals of more than 55% compared to 2025 in Lampedusa alone. This is not an isolated phenomenon, but rather the continuance of a trend affecting all of the EU's external borders, where official data indicate a 40% decline in arrivals[2].
This decline is being presented as a victory by EU politicians and institutions, while Frontex is patting itself on the back for this success. It goes without saying that extreme violence is used to deter people from reaching Europe: even the Paris court has launched an investigation into the former head of Frontex and current Member of the European Parliament, Fabrice Leggeri, for crimes against humanity in connection with pushbacks and other offences. Cynically, it is Frontex itself that is now investigating the Greek government in connection with allegations of illegal pushbacks[3].
In response to the ongoing human rights violations by the EU border agency, the Union is reacting with its usual grandeur and commitment to human rights : by expanding Frontex's mandate. Discussions are currently underway to increase the agency's permanence corpse staff to 10,000 agents by 2027 and to 30,000 by 2029 —in 2022, there were 900—to involve it in deportation procedures, to entrust it with the management of the highly problematic so-called "return centers," to increase its funding, and to arm its personnel[4].
In Lampedusa, in April, Frontex devised a brilliant public relations initiative to improve its image and counter the recently published reports on the allegations against Leggeri: at the pier, upon the children's arrival, agents gave them stuffed eagles wearing Frontex uniforms.
However, strategies aimed at reducing arrivals on EU shores are, unfortunately, proving effective. Data from Lampedusa show a slightly steeper decline than the average for central Mediterranean routes, despite that the number of arrivals on certain routes is increasing: the Algerian route, for example, is busier than in the past, as is the route from eastern Libya.
Routes change because people react to geopolitical developments in the regions of departure. And these geopolitical developments—which include anti-Black racism and the increasing criminalization of people on the move in the regions of departure as well as of people who show solidarity in their favor—are heavily influenced by the agreements the EU makes with local authorities: agreements aimed at externalizing its borders, funding militias, and directly supplying them with boats, planes, drones, and training.
It is essential to put into context the fact that fewer arrivals do not mean fewer departures: the EU's deadly border policy results in a significant increase in deaths and forced disappearances at sea, as well as an increase in interceptions along the coasts of departure. The reality faced by both those intercepted when they are returned to Libya, Tunisia, Algeria, and other places of departure and people on the move who live within these territories is well known. We know about the detention camps, slavery, and deportations into the desert. Despite these well-documented human rights violations, the EU is planning to expand cooperation and funding, as in the case of the planned €25 million SHARAKA program in Libya[5].
Those who arrive at the pier in Lampedusa—or, more rarely, disembark on their own on one of the beaches, as was the case with the 15 people (mostly minors) who landed at Cala Maluk on July 9—have survived these EU-funded lethal systems. Activists are amplifying their voices and holding those responsible to account: thanks to testimonies from Refugees in Libya, the trial of Khaled Mohamed Ali El Hishri for crimes against humanity committed within the Libyan detention system will begin[6]. The "Tunisian Solidarity" network has published a statement on the consequences of the Memorandum of Understanding for people on the move, three years after its entry into force[7]. AlarmPhoneSahara regularly reports on the tens of thousands of people deported to the desert each year and publishes their testimonies[8]. Activists from Belaady support people in Libya who are in detention, regardless of the extremely high risks this entails[9].
The EU's border externalisation policy bears direct co-responsibility, and the visa system is used as a tool to force countries to cooperate, as currently demonstrated by the visa restrictions imposed on The Gambia, Somalia, and Algeria to punish their lack of cooperation on deportations[10].
However, not everyone manages to survive the billion euro border regime. According to official data, despite the decline in the number of arrivals, the death toll in the first half of this year rose by more than 26%—with an overall increase of at least 57% in the number of deaths on the Central Mediterranean route, while the Atlantic route saw a 67% rise in the mortality rate. These figures do not include those missing/victims of enforced disappearances at sea: it is estimated that the number of people who have disappeared violently and silently is equal to the number of people whose deaths have been confirmed because their bodies were found. These data come from the IOM and are likely to be only an approximation due to the high number of unreported cases.
It's strange to talk about numbers. Every number represents a person—with a life, a family, and loved ones. What does it mean, after all, that 55% fewer people are arriving and 57% more are dying? That for every person who arrives in Lampedusa, another is killed, disappeared, detained, sold, or deported to the desert—compared to last year? And what about those who were killed, disappeared, detained, sold or deported in previous years?
Statistics do not capture human life; however, they can help illustrate the structural nature of these injustices. It is estimated that—this year alone—more than 340,000 families are affected by the increased number of victims caused by the EU's border regime[2].
Along all the routes, communities are organizing to find those who have gone missing. Activists estimate that, in Senegal alone, thousands of people have been forcibly disappeared while heading toward Europe. The Facebook group "Trouvés Ou Perdus"[11], where information about missing persons is posted, has over 103.000 members. The organization Boza Fii organizes the annual "Caravane des Disparus," which brings together families of victims of the EU's border regime following the slogan "Nous ne pouvons plus nous limiter à compter nos morts, nous voulons en parler"—we can no longer simply count our dead; we want to talk about this.
The real-life consequences of the lives hidden behind those numbers are families who have been searching for their loved ones for decades, unable to properly mourn their dead; women who cannot remarry because their husbands have not been officially declared deceased; children who cannot access their inheritances and can be deprived of their homes and land. In some communities, up to 80% of the population is killed or forcibly disappeared by the European border regime and its accomplices.
Trying to challenge the European gaze on people on the move means trying to restore some dignity to them by sharing their names and stories, and fighting for them not to be forgotten.
Like Fatmata, who left her mother and sister behind. Fatmata, whose family is originally from the Ivory Coast, did not survive the journey from Tunisia to Italy. Fatmata was killed on May 16th, when she was still a child. She is now buried in Favara, Sicily.
What does it mean to seek justice? When will the truth come to light?
The Tunisian association "Mères de Migrants Disparus" states: "La vérité est un droit, la justice est un devoir." — Truth is a right; justice is a duty.