The September 23, 2026 legislative elections, whose provisional results have now been officially announced by the Interior Ministry, are set to bring a significant shift to Morocco’s political landscape. Turnout stood at 38%, sharply down from 50.88% in 2021 and 42.27% in 2016, confirming a reshuffling of the balance of power in the House of Representatives. Nearly 6 million of the country’s 15.8 million registered voters cast a ballot, but the real shock lies elsewhere: in the resounding rejection of the outgoing majority’s record and the return of political forces many had thought consigned to the sidelines.
For the National Rally of Independents (RNI) and its leader Aziz Akhannouch, September 23, 2026 will go down as the day voters delivered their ultimate rebuke. Finishing second with 66 seats, the party trails the winner by a yawning margin. The scale of the collapse becomes even clearer when set against the 102 seats it won in its 2021 triumph.
The defeat is all the more bruising because the RNI electoral machine had swung into action from the very start of the campaign, combining unprecedented activity on the ground with an aggressive online presence. Confident of success, the party leadership was banking on its political establishment being returned to office. It had reckoned without the disastrous record of its five years in power, from 2021 to 2026: soaring inflation, unemployment climbing above 13%, flagship social programs bogged down in technocracy and deep crises across key sectors, notably health and education.
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Within the outgoing governing coalition, the Authenticity and Modernity Party (PAM) stands out as the exception. With an impressive advance, the party has taken first place with 97 seats, up from 87 in 2021. Backed by a finely tuned ground campaign and a Fouzi Lekjaa firing on all cylinders, the PAM managed to distance itself from the failings of its coalition partners.
The other pillar of the outgoing majority, however, the Istiqlal Party, has paid dearly for a lacklustre campaign that failed to make an impression. While it managed to limit the damage with 65 seats, down from 81 in 2021, the much-vaunted “landslide” its leadership had hoped for never materialized, confirming the exhaustion of an old guard struggling to renew itself.
The other major lesson from this election is the spectacular return of the Justice and Development Party (PJD). After suffering an electoral earthquake in 2021, when it was reduced to just 13 seats after having led the government, the Islamist party has risen from the ashes under its charismatic firebrand Abdelilah Benkirane. With a highly respectable fourth-place finish and 54 seats, the PJD has benefited both from the RNI’s fall from grace and, above all, from the unequivocal return to its fold of the Movement for Unity and Reform (MUR), its ideological arm, whose support it had lacked five years earlier. Armed with this renewed political capital, the PJD is assured of an influential role, whether in a new coalition or, more likely, at the head of a combative opposition.
On the other side, the big loser among the institutional left remains the Socialist Union of Popular Forces (USFP). Paying heavily for its ambiguous positioning as an eager appendage of the outgoing majority and the RNI, Driss Lachgar’s party has fallen to 26 seats, from 34 in 2021. Its anachronistic management and stubborn refusal to undergo any political renewal have completed its slide towards marginalization.
Turnout: an effective rate of 22.5%
The USFP’s rout has benefited other progressive forces. The Party of Progress and Socialism (PPS) has held its own reasonably well with 19 seats, compared with 22 in 2021. But the genuinely welcome surprise of this election comes from the Left Alliance, which has made a historic breakthrough by winning eight seats, compared with just one secured by its constituent parties when they ran separately in 2021. With a clean, modern, highly viral campaign firmly attuned to the aspirations of young people, the Alliance has shown that another way of doing politics is possible.
Morocco’s political landscape is poised to turn a decisive page. But the malaise runs deeper. Behind the political reshuffle, one figure rings like a deafening alarm bell. Turnout stood at a meager 38.02%, later officially revised to 38.08%, confirming both mass rejection and staggering abstention, and marking a sharp fall from 50.88% in 2021 and 42.27% in 2016. With electoral participation at its lowest level in nearly two decades, one stark reality is impossible to ignore: the scale of abstention speaks volumes about how little faith Moroccans now place in politics.
According to the official figures, nearly 6 million voters cast ballots out of 15.8 million registered. But measured against an estimated 26.7 million adults of voting age, effective turnout plunges to around 22.5%.
Read also : Elections: PAM wrests top spot from RNI as PJD claws back ground
The sociological picture is alarming. Morocco’s electorate is marked by a deep generational divide. Young people aged 18 to 24 account for barely 4% of registered voters. Even when the bracket is widened to include those aged 18 to 34, the figure barely reaches 19%, despite 15- to 30-year-olds making up a third of Morocco’s population. At the other end of the spectrum, people over 60 account for more than 29% of registered voters, illustrating the extraordinary extent of young people’s disengagement from the ballot box.
That apathy was particularly stark in the country’s major urban and economic centers. The Casablanca-Settat region, for example, recorded a paltry turnout of just 34.60%. This urban disaffection stands in sharp contrast to rural areas, where voting has traditionally been much heavier, often driven by tribal considerations or immediate personal interests, masking the profound emptiness of the debate over policies and programs.
The monarchy as the ultimate recourse
This civic gulf is the direct result of the outgoing government’s actions—or, rather, its inaction. The election campaign itself proved deeply dispiriting and did little to mobilize voters. Far from offering an encouraging vision of the future, the issues that dominated public debate revolved almost entirely around scandals and the failures of the outgoing government. The conclusion is clear: parties, elected officials and the government apparatus as a whole are no longer seen as possessing any real power to bring about change.
It is precisely this gaping credibility vacuum that reinforces a structural feature of Moroccan political life: whatever the issue, citizens have eyes only for the monarchy and King Mohammed VI. Faced with parties perceived as opportunistic, detached from socio-economic realities and mired in internal squabbles, Moroccans turn to the Sovereign with their legitimate expectations, looking to him to think, act and deliver concrete solutions to the problems of their daily lives.
If the September 23, 2026 election redraws the map of Parliament—with the PAM’s notable advance, Istiqlal holding its ground with 65 seats, the PJD’s triumphant return under Benkirane, the USFP’s rout with 26 seats and the Left Alliance’s strong showing with eight—it also sends an unmistakable message to the political elite. Moroccan democracy is capable of renewing its institutions peacefully, but it is limping on one leg. Without an urgent effort to win back public trust and rigorous accountability from those in office, the ballot boxes will continue to ring hollow.
