A Call for Faith Communities to Take a Stance Against The Military-Prostitution Complex

Latent Violence: The Danger of Militarized Communities

At ICRD, we understand that violence anywhere is a threat to peace everywhere. While the effects of violence can be felt most directly by those in active conflict zones, persistent atmospheres of underlying hostility and militarization cause almost as much harm to a community. Therefore, it is important for peacebuilding efforts to identify and address these consequences within the greater mission to create sustainable and lasting peace.

The common understanding of latent violence comes from Johan Galtung, often known as the father of modern peace studies. Galtung frames latent violence as the constant potential for conflict that exists when violence is built into a system, even if it is not currently being exercised.¹ Latent violence lies in the background of social, economic, and political structures. Despite no sign of active bloodshed yet, latent violence manifests through power dynamics, division, and fear in a very tangible way.

Perhaps the most important example of latent violence in our world today is militarized communities. Drawing from academic literature across political science, sociology, and feminist studies, militarized communities are characterized by the permeation of the military or militaristic values throughout a society’s organization, political sphere, or daily life.² From international U.S. military bases to countless towns on the frontlines of deeply securitized borders, military communities are becoming more present and more normalized.³ Heavy military presence in a region acts as a sort of black hole, absorbing all aspects of a community into the needs of the war-making body. Over time, the militarization of a society perpetuates a higher tolerance for violence and social hierarchy.⁴

One of the greatest consequences of this militarized dynamic is the impact on gender roles and the demand for violent sexual relations. Originally analysed by Cynthia Enloe in her work Bananas, Beaches, and Bases, the connection between the presence of military institutions and the exploitation of women’s sexual labor is known as the military-prostitution complex.⁵ The military-prostitution complex is by no means a new development, nor is it limited to a certain geopolitical space. Instead, the institutionalization of sex work around armies can be traced throughout history and across the globe, from the time of the British colonial state implementing the Contagious Diseases Act in India to the horrors of the Korean Comfort women during World War II.⁶ Today, uncovering the pattern of female sexual exploitation by military personnel is an ongoing and underreported investigation.

This piece acts as a small contribution to the conversation, focusing on the particular dynamic of military presence and prostitution that can be found at the tip of North Africa in the town of Ceuta, Spain. 

Ceuta and the Military-Prostitution Complex

The 7-square-mile town of Ceuta, Spain, is one of the southernmost frontiers of Europe. Surrounding the Spanish enclave is the infamous Valla de Ceuta, an 8-kilometer-long and 10-kilometer-high border, patrolled by Spanish forces on one side and Moroccan forces on the other.⁷ Although the border has historically been a point of political tension between Spain and Morocco, Ceuta and the surrounding Moroccan towns have had working relations centered around social and economic exchange, with Moroccans crossing into Ceuta for work and leisure, and vice versa.

In recent years, this dynamic has shifted heavily. After the COVID-19 pandemic, Morocco repealed the 24-hour visa policy that allowed Moroccans to enter Ceuta by showing a Moroccan passport at the border crossing.⁸ With this policy revoked, Moroccans now require an official Schengen visa, issued by a Spanish consulate in Morocco, to cross into Spain. Due to barriers of wealth, employment, and social resources, visas are out of reach for low-income families and most women.

Additionally, in the past few years, Spain has substantially increased their security forces at the border. This reinforcement comes after eight thousand Moroccan migrants crossed the border in May 2021.⁹ When asked about current demographics, multiple on-the-ground sources stated that about 50%-60% of the Spanish population in the town are part of a law enforcement body, such as la Guardia Civil.¹⁰

The discontinuation of the 24-hour visa and the reinforced militarization of the town have had devastating consequences on the dynamics of the sex work industry and the safety of migrant women. To understand these consequences, I spoke with Irene Pascual, a social worker at Fundación Cruz Blanca. Fundación Cruz Blanca is one of the only organizations in Ceuta working to combat the sexual exploitation of migrant women. Founded in 2004 by the Franciscan Brothers of the White Cross, the non-profit organization oversees countless social welfare programs in the hopes of continuing on the mission of Brother Isidoro Lezcano in serving those excluded and marginalized from society.  One of their main programs is to support women in forced prostitution.

Pascual tells me that before the pandemic, the majority of sex workers in Ceuta were women from Morocco who would cross between the two countries regularly, and the clientele were typically older men who had aged out of the dating pool. With the new visa requirement and increased military population, both of these demographics have shifted. The new clientele in Cueta has become young, military men, who have increased the demand for prostitution tenfold. In response to fill the gap left behind by Moroccan women who can no longer cross into Spain, local trafficking networks have begun to prey on women from Colombia and Venezuela, either forcefully trafficking the women or manipulating the women to travel to Spain under the pretense of economic opportunities. Pascual estimates that there are currently a dozen prostitution pisos, or apartment flats, scattered throughout Ceuta, where women from Latin America are forced to ‘work’ to pay off the debts they owe to the manager of the flat or the trafficking network.

Fudación Cruz Blanca aims to locate these prostitution pisos and support trafficked women. When a social worker is alerted about a woman who may be in danger, they begin a gradual process of building a relationship with her through interactions outside the piso. If the woman indicates she needs support, the social workers do their best to provide her with healthcare resources (such as contraception), educational opportunities, and, at times, financial aid. Unfortunately, Pascual and her colleagues are not always in a position to remove the women from the piso, as trafficking and prostitution networks often threaten to hurt a woman’s family back home if she leaves the brothel without paying her due. That being said, Fundación Cruz Blanca does have a safehouse for those who can escape. Their team often works closely with Spanish law enforcement to protect the women and their loved ones from the repercussions of angering the trafficking network if a woman decides to leave the service and abandon her debt.

Despite these efforts, many migrant women forced into prostitution remain unreachable by support networks, hidden in the pisos. As Ceuta continues to militarize, the demand for sex work will only increase, putting even more women at risk. Pascual expresses that while awareness is an important measure, more must be done to combat the systemic nature of the sexual exploitation of migrant women in Ceuta.

A Message to Faith Communities:

Militarization and forced prostitution in Ceuta, Spain, is just one example of how the military-prostitution complex continues to function today, especially in latent conflict zones. However, Ceuta is just a small part of a much larger narrative of increasing sexual violence against women that impacts communities around the globe. Condemning this violence begins with recognizing the consequences of militarized communities and how they glorify aggression, dominance, hierarchy, and restrictive gender norms.

ICRD calls all faith communities to follow in the footsteps of organizations such as Fundación Cruz Blanca in resisting militarization, prostitution, and trafficking in persons. In offering spaces of physical, emotional, and spiritual support, faith communities can play a role in providing services of healing and protection for survivors of military prostitution. By leading awareness campaigns and speaking out against the military-prostitution complex, faith communities can show a united front in the face of systemic sexual violence. Our efforts can confront unchallenged latent violence in a way that will cement a future of safety and peace for all those impacted by the violent influence of militarized communities, especially women.

* In July 2025, Nicole Abudayeh traveled to Ceuta, Spain, to conduct semi-structured interviews throughout the community in hopes of bringing to light how Spanish-Moroccan border policies have endangered migrant women. This piece compiles Abudayeh’s findings. This story was supported by the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting.

References:

1. Johan Galtung, “Violence, Peace, and Peace Research,” Journal of Peace Research 6, no. 3 (1969): 167–91, http://www.jstor.org/stable/422690.
2. Yagil Levy, “Militarism and Militarization,” in Research Handbook on Civil–Military Relations, ed. (editors as listed in the volume) (Cheltenham, UK: Edward Elgar Publishing, 2024), 298–313, https://doi.org/10.4337/9781800889842.00033.
3. Ibid.
4. Cynthia Enloe, Maneuvers: The International Politics of Militarizing Women’s Lives, 1st ed. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000), http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1525/j.ctt14qrzb1.
5. Cynthia Enloe, Bananas, Beaches and Bases: Making Feminist Sense of International Politics, 2nd ed. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2014), http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1525/j.ctt6wqbn6.
6. Sabya Sachi R. Mishra, “Laws of Pleasure: The Making of Indian Contagious Diseases Act, 1868,” Proceedings of the Indian History Congress 60 (1999): 550–61, http://www.jstor.org/stable/44144123; Yuri W. Doolan, “Transpacific Camptowns: Korean Women, US Army Bases, and Military Prostitution in America,” Journal of American Ethnic History 38, no. 4 (2019): 33–54, https://doi.org/10.5406/jamerethnhist.38.4.0033.
7. Said Saddiki, “The Fences of Ceuta and Melilla,” in World of Walls: The Structure, Roles and Effectiveness of Separation Barriers, ed. Said Saddiki (Cambridge, UK: Open Book Publishers, 2017), 57–82, https://doi.org/10.11647/OBP.0121.04.
8. Jihane Rahhou, “Morocco to Discontinue 24-Hour Visas for Ceuta, Melilla,” Morocco World News, April 3, 2024, https://www.moroccoworldnews.com/2024/04/21303/morocco-to-discontinue-24-hour-visas-for-ceuta-melilla/.
9. “Spain, Morocco Square Off after 8,000 Migrants Arrive by Sea,” Associated Press, April 26, 2024, https://apnews.com/article/spain-europe-africa-morocco-migration-9833744a7058cc9438a8d7417d2944c6.
10. Nicole Abudayeh, Fieldnotes, Ceuta, July 2025.