Mass deportations are coming to Europe. This is not a hypothesis; it is a trajectory.

We see it in the United States: one election, one signature, and people who have lived there for decades are removed at dawn. The system does not act out of hatred; it acts out of function. We see it in Europe: Le Pen at the gates, Zemmour saying aloud what others whisper, Germany discussing “remigration.” And we see it in the economy.

And we see it in the economy. AI is already here, replacing minds in the offices. It is less visible, but more pervasive. Meanwhile, physical robots are catching up. The only historical check on deportation was economic need. They needed the hands and they needed the minds. That need is expiring.

When Europe no longer needs our labor, it will no longer tolerate our presence. We are past “if” and “when.” We are left to decide between submission and strategy.

Submission is simple. We wait. We wait until the policies pass. We wait until the flights are booked. We wait until our people arrive at Tunis-Carthage with frozen bank accounts and children who speak Italian better than Tunisian. We wait until we are forced to process engineers and delinquents arriving on the same plane. This is the path of reaction. It is expensive, chaotic, and humiliating. It turns a population into a problem.

Strategy means seizing the initiative. It implies starting now, before the panic. It means speaking to our diaspora with honesty: The window is closing. Come home while you can sell your apartment at market price, not at auction. Come home while you can choose your city and your job. It also means we must prepare here. We need structure, not charity. We need a definition of “Tunisian” wide enough to embrace those who left at five and those born in Amsterdam. We must stop viewing return as failure and start viewing it as a project.

The difference between these two paths is stark. A Tunisian who returns by choice arrives with capital, plans, and dignity. They arrive standing. A Tunisian who is deported arrives with nothing, their assets frozen or seized. They arrive on their knees. The first is an asset; the second is a burden. It is the same person, with the same skills and history. The only difference is timing.

Multiply this by hundreds of thousands. A country that receives prepared returnees secures an investment: decades of European training and networks walking through the door. A country that receives deportees suffers a humanitarian crisis. The human capital is identical. The outcome is opposite.

This is why preparation is not merely philosophy; it is economics. It is survival. The question is not whether we are ready for mass deportations, but whether we are ready to turn this inevitable shift into a national advantage.

The planes will land eventually. That much is certain. Do we wait for the crisis, or do we build the opportunity?