Society on Bluwr.

World Cup: when states remind FIFA who really calls the shots... 1006

Aziz Daouda, 7 d.

- Politics - Society - Sports -

2.7 min read.

For several days now, with delegations gradually arriving in the United States, Mexico and Canada for the 2026 World Cup, part of international public opinion seems to be discovering a reality that is, however, far from new: the primacy of national laws over the regulations of international sporting bodies. The treatment recently meted out to certain African, Middle Eastern and other delegations has sparked indignation, debate and sometimes accusations of discrimination. Yet none of this is truly new. Those who know the history of international sport are aware that the great Western powers have never relinquished their sovereignty on security matters to federations and international sporting bodies. Moroccan sporting history is full of telling examples. As early as 1984, the Moroccan delegation to the Los Angeles Olympic Games spent hours blocked at the American airport because of security procedures. At the Sydney Games, Moroccan athletes, officials and accompanying staff underwent particularly rigorous checks after more than twenty‑four hours of travel: interminable searches, interrogations, luggage inspected down to the smallest detail. The great powers apply their laws with cold efficiency, regardless of the supposed prestige of the competitions. The corridors supposedly set up to speed up procedures are in reality true security airlocks, pushed to the extreme. Passengers who arrived on the same flights as the athletes clear the border much more quickly. Being a qualified athlete for an international competition does not entitle one to preferential treatment. Djokovic was refused entry to Australia because he was unvaccinated. He was indeed the world No. 1 in the ATP rankings and the Australian tournament needed him for more than one reason. The reality is simple: no serious state hands over its national security to FIFA, the IOC or any sporting organisation. It is legitimate for a host country to apply its own laws with heightened vigilance when it receives hundreds of thousands of people from around the world. Zero risk does not exist. Large sporting gatherings are potential targets for all kinds of threats. In this context, outraged reactions often seem disconnected from geopolitical realities. The Somali referee turned away at Miami airport despite his visa remains, above all, a national of a country subject to particular entry restrictions into the United States. The Iranian players represent a state in open confrontation with Washington, and it is known that the sporting delegations of some regimes are often closely supervised by their security or diplomatic apparatuses. In 2022, the United States hosted the World Athletics Championships in Eugene, the temple of the sport in North America. Athletes from more than twenty African countries were unable to obtain visas to take part. The president of the African Athletics Confederation, himself a member of World Athletics, was unable to travel to the United States. American laws prevailed over the minor rules of the international federation, (World Athletics) which supposedly obliges the host country to accept all qualified athletes and their accompanying persons on its territory. This is neither automatic racism nor gratuitous hostility. It is, first and foremost, state logic, sovereignty and security. The real problem lies elsewhere. It lies in the attitude of certain “third‑world” countries that continue to regard the specifications of the major sporting bodies as sacred and indisputable. In many developing countries, FIFA, the IOC and other federations impose sometimes absurd requirements in terms of architecture, luxury, urban planning or security organisation, without local authorities daring to truly challenge them. How ridiculous it is to see some members of FIFA or the IOC — to name only the most visible, sometimes of dubious competence — inspect hotels, airports, hospitals, buses, and even public toilets with unbearable arrogance. Yet these organisations are not global governments. They have no democratic legitimacy superior to that of states. Their regulations cannot prevail over laws passed by sovereign parliaments and enforced by national institutions accountable to their people. The normal mission of a continental or world sporting federation should be limited to technical matters, the rules of the game and the sporting organisation itself. Once it claims to dictate security policies, architectural choices, lavish expenditures or urban orientations to sovereign states, it clearly oversteps its remit. The 2026 World Cup perhaps reminds us of an essential truth many had forgotten: it is not states that belong to FIFA, but FIFA that depends on states. What would football be without the colossal budgets that governments dedicate to it, sometimes at the expense of other sectors that are arguably more pressing? Yet that same FIFA, whenever a government seeks to put its football in order, sometimes wages war on it. We should perhaps thank the United States, Mexico and Canada for reminding everyone of the true nature of this competition: a great sporting celebration, certainly, but not a supranational authority capable of erasing laws, borders and national sovereignty. Anyone who fantasizes about a World Cup of caprice and privileges should abstain. Consider yourselves warned. +

Mehdi Tazi – Mohamed Bachiri: the duo that could reinvent Moroccan business leadership... 2393

Aziz Daouda, 16 d.

- Politics - Society - Business -

3 min read.

The election of Mehdi Tazi and Mohamed Bachiri to the head of the CGEM is not just a change of leadership; it may mark a cultural, economic, even political turning point in how the company, wealth, and those who take the risk to invest are perceived. What’s most striking is how quickly they have begun to take the field, proposing initiatives and showing that they do not see the CGEM as just another institution but as a genuine driving force at a particularly sensitive moment. The country is investing, infrastructure projects are scaling up, and 2030 is looming. The automotive industry is asserting itself, aeronautics is advancing, and other sectors are rising. Morocco aims to become an energy, logistics and industrial platform. But another reality persists: administrative burdens, taxation seen as discouraging, difficult access to finance for SMEs, regulatory rigidities, a culture of suspicion toward business, and the lack of a true national narrative around entrepreneurs. This is where the duo can become more than a mere employers’ leadership and help change the perception of the businessman. In part of the collective imagination, he is often caricatured as a predator, a privileged figure removed from social realities. Certain practices and collusions feed that perception. That vision has become unfair to thousands of entrepreneurs who create, invest, export, innovate, and shoulder hundreds of thousands of jobs. Starting a company is a daily fight. You must face international competition, costs, tax pressure, late payments, market fluctuations, banking constraints, social tensions and, sometimes, regulatory instability. Behind every factory that opens, every SME that survives, every successful export, there are citizens taking considerable risks. The CGEM’s major cultural challenge is to rehabilitate the act of entrepreneurship: to make people understand that producing wealth is not a moral fault; earning money honestly is not a scandal. Business is not the enemy of citizens but their protection against unemployment and precariousness. The CGEM can no longer be content to be a union. In major economies, employers’ organizations shape economic doctrines, inspire tax reforms and steer debates on labor, investment, competitiveness and innovation. In Morocco, political parties speak more about redistribution than about wealth creation. A country cannot redistribute what it does not produce. The duo must shift the debate and push it toward structural issues: further freeing private investment, lightening bureaucracy, making taxation more stimulating for productive investment, accelerating dirham convertibility and loosening currency restrictions, turning SMEs into African champions and fostering a new generation of industrial and tech entrepreneurs. Morocco has often operated with a cautious, managed and controlled economy. That approach has brought stability. But the world is changing at brutal speed. Only countries that dare move forward. Will they have the boldness to propose reforms? Taxation is often perceived as heavy for value creators. Many businesses feel penalized for growing rather than encouraged to take risks. Currency restrictions, despite positive developments, also continue to limit certain international ambitions, notably for startups. The next government will need to make courageous choices, and the CGEM must move out of a defensive posture to become an offensive source of proposals, with less corporatism and more national vision. At heart, the real question is simple: does Morocco want only to manage its economy or to truly become a full-fledged economic power? Si Mehdi’s profile intrigues for another reason: his relationship to sport. An excellent triathlete, he belongs to that category for whom physical effort is not a social pastime but a way of life. That is no small detail. Triathlon is one of the sports that best reveals human character. It demands speed, power, endurance, mental toughness, the ability to manage pain and intelligence in deploying effort. Exactly what the Moroccan economy needs today: - Speed to accelerate transformations. - Power to impose reforms. - Endurance to withstand resistance. Sport also teaches another essential value: a culture of results. In sport, excuses produce nothing; only performance counts. Perhaps this is the culture Si Mehdi and Mohamed will inject into Moroccan business leadership: less rhetoric, more execution. First impressions reveal a particular dynamic between the two men. One seems to bring energy for projection, movement and mobilization; the other offers a direct, sharp temperament. In an era dominated by technological, energy and geopolitical transitions, that complementarity is a major asset. Morocco is entering an extremely tough global competition: Africa attracts every major power, industrial value chains are being recomposed, markets are shifting and traditional economic models are being challenged by AI and new forms of production. In this context, the CGEM can no longer be a mere representative body; it must become a true national strategic laboratory. Morocco today possesses rare assets: stability, modern infrastructure, an exceptional geographic position, proximity to Europe, depth in Africa and growing international credibility. But economic history also teaches that opportunities never last forever. The country must therefore accelerate. And perhaps this election comes at precisely the moment when the country needs a more offensive, more assertive, more visible and more engaged employers’ movement in the global economic battle. Success will not be measured only by reports produced or meetings held, but by a deeper question: transforming the country’s economic culture, where the financial sector remains dominated by banks, with a modest participatory segment and only 77 listed companies, even if that represents 47.1% of GDP (AfDB). Will they succeed in contributing to a Morocco where the entrepreneur is no longer suspected as a matter of principle, but recognized as a central actor of national sovereignty, employment and collective prosperity? If so, then their mandate will far exceed the bounds of a trade association.

Oxford, Fez, or the Enigma of Decline... 3484

Aziz Daouda, 24 d.

- History - Science - Society -

3.2 min read.

It has now been nearly ten days since I have been walking through Oxford. What a pleasure it is to wander here. Ten days roaming its narrow streets, brushing against its stone walls, breathing in its immaculate gardens and its centuries-old colleges with their majestic façades. Ten days entering libraries where silence feels like a religion. Ten days visiting museums that are free, open to all, rich with objects, ideas, and the memory of humanity. Here, knowledge is not confined. It circulates. It is shared. It is breathed in. It lives. Each museum is a lesson in humility. The story of humanity is told with care, delicacy, patience, and pride. One can spend hours there without fatigue. Upon leaving, one already longs to return. Even the botanical garden feels like a constant invitation to understand the earth, plants, life, the universe, and the distant unknown. But for ten days now, a question has also been following me. It struck me suddenly at the Science Museum when I discovered astrolabes from our lands, from Morocco, from the Muslim world, displayed with respect, as symbols of a time when we were among the producers of global knowledge. And so a question becomes an obsession: how did we lose that lead? It is important to recall a historical truth that is often forgotten: the University of Al Quaraouiyine in Fez was the first university in the world. At a time when much of Europe was still in the shadows of the Middle Ages, Fez was already radiating through theology, mathematics, astronomy, medicine, philosophy, and the sciences of language. Scholars taught there while Europe was still learning how to structure its institutions of knowledge. On world maps tracing the history of human knowledge, Fez clearly appears as one of humanity’s great intellectual centers. So what happened? At what point did Oxford and Cambridge take the lead? Why did science continue to progress here while, in our lands, the momentum gradually stalled? Why did Europe transform universities into permanent engines of innovation and development, while we ended up sanctifying the past instead of building the future? The answer cannot be simplistic. No people decline overnight by accident. No civilization collapses by chance. The divergence of the Muslim world, and particularly Morocco, is the result of a long historical process in which powerful forces played a role. First, there was the gradual closing of the critical mind. For centuries, the Muslim world had made intellectual curiosity a central value. Greek, Persian, and Indian works were translated. People debated. They experimented. They wrote and taught. Scholars held prestige. Doubt was permitted, admired, even. Then, little by little, fear of change and conservatism replaced intellectual dynamism. Scholars were condemned, killed, persecuted; their books burned. Teaching was reduced to repetition rather than invention. Meanwhile, Europe experienced the Renaissance, then the scientific revolution, then the Enlightenment. Oxford and other European universities understood something essential: a university is not merely a place for transmitting fixed knowledge, it is a place where knowledge is produced and innovation is born. There, libraries became modern cathedrals. Here, books are still too often seen as secondary objects. There, research was funded, protected, encouraged. Here, even today, how many researchers still live in precarity and indifference? But there is something even deeper. Oxford impresses through something rare: continuity. Here, traditions were not destroyed in the name of modernity; they were integrated into it. Students still proudly wear black attire for examinations and carnations on their lapels. Professors continue to wear their centuries-old academic gowns. Academic rituals endure as a matter of course. And yet, no one sees this as incompatible with technological or scientific innovation. Perhaps this, too, is one of the great differences. What has become of the rituals of Al Quaraouiyine that once inspired universities across the world? Today, we tend to believe that modernity requires a brutal break with our traditions. They have understood that identity can be a strength when it accompanies progress rather than opposes it. Here, colleges are respected because they embody a living history. Buildings are maintained with almost sacred care. Students seem aware that they belong to something greater than themselves. They sit on prestigious benches. Knowledge is not merely a tool for social mobility; it is a collective mission. This is reflected even in behavior. People are calm, disciplined, curious, respectful, not because they are inherently superior, but because centuries of strong institutions have shaped a culture of civic responsibility and respect for public space. The real tragedy of the Muslim world may not be only economic or political. It is cultural. We have ceased to sustainably protect our institutions of knowledge. Too often, we have replaced merit with networks, a culture of research with a culture of diplomas, scientific patience with political urgency. While others were building libraries, we were sometimes building certainties. But all is not lost. What is most fascinating about Oxford is not its material wealth. It is its enduring belief in knowledge, its willingness to invest in books, museums, laboratories, gardens, students, and teachers as one would invest in the very future of the nation. The real question, then, is not only: why did we decline? Perhaps the real question is: do we still have the will to become a civilization that produces knowledge, rather than a society that merely consumes it? History shows one essential truth: no advantage is eternal, not that of empires, nor of universities, nor of civilizations. Fez has already illuminated the world. Nothing prevents it, nor Marrakech, Rabat, or Benguerir, from doing so again. Provided we understand that progress cannot be decreed. It is built in schools, in libraries, in intellectual freedom, in respect for teachers, in the protection of science, and in the reconciliation between identity and modernity. The real gap did not widen only in budgets or infrastructure. It widened in our relationship to knowledge

Football held hostage by the culture of excuses: when defeat becomes a conspiracy... 3669

Aziz Daouda, 26 d.

- Society - Sports -

2.9 min read.

Football is a sport of passion, emotion, and collective identity. It is often an extension of a national, regional, or popular feeling. This emotional power explains its greatness, but it also explains its excesses. For several years now, a worrying trend has been taking hold in world football: the growing inability of some coaches, officials, and other actors in the game to simply acknowledge the superiority of the opponent or their own shortcomings. Every defeat becomes suspicious. Every refereeing decision is turned into a scandal. Every elimination feeds a conspiracy theory. This culture of excuses is no longer marginal. It has become frequent enough to constitute a real moral, institutional, and security problem in football. The 2025 AFCON is a perfect example. The latest episode clearly illustrates this drift: the coach of Egypt’s U17 team blamed his side’s defeat on refereeing. Even at a youth level, where sporting education should take precedence over controversy, some officials would rather discredit referees than honestly assess their team’s weaknesses. Defeat is no longer accepted as a sporting reality Football is nevertheless based on a fundamental principle: there is a winner and a loser. Defeat is an integral part of sport. It should be analyzed, understood, and used as a lever for progress. Yet more and more, some coaches refuse this obvious truth. They prefer to point to outside culprits: - the referee; - the institutions; - VAR; - the fixtures; - the weather conditions; - alleged continental or international conspiracies. Rarely do they mention: - their poor tactical choices; - the lack of commitment from certain players; - their team’s technical or mental weaknesses; - poor preparation; - or simply the superior quality of the opponent. This attitude reflects a deep crisis of responsibility in modern football. A dangerous diversion tactic In many cases, blaming refereeing is primarily a way to protect the image of the coach or the club. Admitting mistakes takes courage. Accusing the referee, by contrast, helps deflect supporters’ anger. This strategy may seem effective in the short term, but it causes major damage. First, it fuels constant distrust toward national football institutions, continental confederations such as the Confederation of African Football, and even FIFA. Second, it helps radicalize supporters. When a coach publicly claims that a defeat is the result of injustice or manipulation, he legitimizes the anger, aggression, and sometimes even the violence of thousands of people. In some contexts, such accusations have led to assaults on referees, pitch invasions, urban violence, sporting diplomatic breakdowns, and online hate campaigns. Football then stops being a space of competition and becomes a field of permanent suspicion. The poison of sporting conspiracy thinking is obvious. The poison of sporting conspiracy One of the most serious phenomena is the rise of true football conspiracy thinking. Some defeats are said to be caused not by the opponent’s merit but by hidden forces: corrupt referees, biased federations, hostile confederations, and orchestrated decisions. This logic is destructive because it eliminates any culture of self-criticism. How can teams improve tactically if they refuse to admit their mistakes? How can young players be taught sportsmanship if they are told defeat is always unjust? How can credible institutions be built when they are constantly attacked without evidence? What is most worrying is that this mindset now reaches youth categories. Yet youth football should precisely teach respect, learning, mental discipline, and acceptance of the sporting result. When a U17 coach prefers to blame refereeing rather than acknowledge his team’s limits, he sends an extremely harmful message to younger generations. Great coaches take responsibility Football history shows that the greatest coaches are often those who know how to acknowledge their mistakes. Top-level managers such as Carlo Ancelotti, Pep Guardiola, and Jürgen Klopp have regularly admitted tactical errors, poor lineup choices, mental shortcomings in their teams, or the superiority of the opponent. This attitude does not diminish their standing; on the contrary, it strengthens their credibility. Acknowledging defeat is not humiliation. It is a sign of maturity, competence, and responsibility. Should irresponsible accusations be punished? The question now deserves serious attention: how far should we allow some officials to freely discredit football institutions? Freedom of expression must of course be protected. Refereeing mistakes do happen. Criticism of football is legitimate. But there is a fundamental difference between a reasoned critique and a permanent accusation aimed at delegitimizing referees and institutions without evidence. Stricter regulations should be considered to sanction unfounded accusations, statements that incite hatred against referees, conspiracy-driven remarks without factual basis, and systematic smear campaigns against sporting institutions. Such sanctions could include fines, suspensions, mandatory public retractions, or even temporary touchline bans. Protecting refereeing authority and institutional credibility is not a luxury; it is a necessity if football is to have a future. We must restore responsibility Football urgently needs to recover this essential value. A coach should be able to say: - “We lost because we were not good enough.” - “My tactical plan did not work.” - “My players were below the required level.” - “The opponent was better.” These phrases should be normal in elite sport. Yet they are becoming rare. By turning every setback into a scandal, football drifts away from its core values of merit, effort, learning, and respect for competition. The greatness of sport lies not only in victory. It also lies in the dignity with which defeat is accepted. I do not know whether Pape Thiaw will agree with this view. He should. The media should too.

“‘Hargaoui’: The Word Exposing Morocco’s Deep Social Divide” 4294

Aziz Daouda, 29 d.

- Society - Lifestyle -

3.2 min read.

It took just one word, picked up by Hassan El Fad, to spark a massive controversy. As is often the case, a comedian succeeded where sociologists, political scientists, and editorialists sometimes struggle: provoking debate and putting simple words to a complex phenomenon. The term “Hargaoui,” as used and explained by Hassan El Fad, goes far beyond comedic caricature. It actually describes a social attitude that has become familiar in contemporary Moroccan society, a posture marked by incivility, social arrogance, constant frustration, and above all a near-pathological refusal to acknowledge any collective progress. The Hargaoui is never satisfied. He lives in a permanent contradiction: fully benefiting from the country’s transformations while systematically denigrating them. This distinctly Moroccan sociological figure deserves serious analysis, as it reveals deep fractures within society. The Hargaoui is not necessarily poor, marginalized, or excluded, quite the opposite. He is often found among those who have materially succeeded. Some of the newly wealthy have even become its most caricatural expression: recent money, rapid social ascent, lack of civic culture, and a constant desire to display social dominance. Everything becomes permissible: - Traffic laws? Optional. - Respect for public spaces? Useless. - Basic politeness? A weakness. - Common rules? For others. The Hargaoui believes that financial success grants him every right. He confuses freedom with the absence of limits and turns economic success into a license for contempt. But the phenomenon does not stop there. The Hargaoui is often inflated with a sense of his own power, real or imagined. He turns his frustration into a constant demonstration of domination over society. With an iron bar in hand, he displays violence the way others display success. He smashes cars, vandalizes stadiums, destroys public property, never realizing that behind every broken window or torn-out seat, it is the entire community he is attacking. On his motorcycle, it is no longer driving but a kind of urban rodeo where danger becomes spectacle. On the highway, speed limits apply only to others. At 180 km/h, he believes he is defying the world, when in reality he is defying death. In city streets, driving at 60 km/h feels almost humiliating to him. Even when dropping his children off at school, he disregards the most basic rules. Double parking becomes an acquired right; blocking traffic and imposing his disorder on everyone else does not bother him in the slightest. The Hargaoui rejects any collective constraint because, deep down, he does not see society as a shared space, but as a territory to dominate. There is also, unfortunately a political, intellectual, and media version of the Hargaoui: one who systematically denies Morocco’s progress, whatever it may be. Infrastructure, diplomacy, sports, industry, tourism, energy, major projects, African influence, high-speed rail, the organization of the 2030 World Cup, everything must be minimized, suspected, or ridiculed. In this logic, acknowledging national success becomes almost an act of naivety. Pessimism is seen as a sign of superior intelligence. Yet no society can sustainably advance through permanent self-denigration. Criticism is, of course, necessary, indeed indispensable. A nation progresses through debate, questioning, and civic demands. But there is a fundamental difference between constructive criticism and collective psychological destruction. The Hargaoui rejects this distinction. The Hargaoui is also that politician who talks nonsense, makes implausible promises, lies as easily as breathing, produces incoherent statements, and shows contempt for citizens, while believing himself to be the only intelligent one. He is the elected official who, during a meeting, stands up, insults his colleagues, breaks furniture, and then leaves… calmly. He does not seek to improve; he seeks to belittle. His discourse is not driven by concern for the common good, but by diffuse anger, sometimes rooted in social frustration, sometimes in resentment, sometimes simply in a form of identity void or pathological jealousy. The Hargaoui is also that neighbor who sees himself as God’s defender on earth, constantly lecturing others on righteousness while lacking it himself. He claims to stand for great causes, but far from real battlegrounds. He waves another country’s flag while forgetting that his first duty is to defend his own. He is the athlete who, after two good passes and a first bonus, already thinks he is a star. The young man who, after a few musical notes, calls himself an artist and demands recognition in the street. The Hargaoui is also the tax cheat, the perpetually absent civil servant, the teacher who sleeps in class. Social media has greatly amplified this phenomenon. It has given immense visibility to performative incivility, unapologetic vulgarity, and constant outrage. The more shocking the behavior, the more attention it attracts; the more outrageous the discourse, the more it goes viral. The digital Hargaoui has emerged: - He cuts in line and then films his “achievement.” - He humiliates others to exist. - He turns insults into opinions. - He treats cynicism as proof of lucidity. And yet, this behavior appears paradoxically at a time when Morocco is experiencing one of the most significant periods in its contemporary history. The country is investing heavily in infrastructure, accelerating industrial modernization, consolidating diplomatic gains, and preparing for major global events. This historical acceleration clearly demands something else: mature citizenship. Morocco’s real challenge is no longer only economic; it is becoming cultural and behavioral. One can build the finest roads, the largest ports, and the most modern stadiums, if civic responsibility does not follow, modernity will remain incomplete. This is where the controversy around the word “Hargaoui” becomes interesting, because it touches on a sensitive truth, one that disturbs precisely because it is visible in everyday life. Morocco is changing rapidly. But some behaviors remain trapped in a mindset where individual success is built against the collective rather than contributing to its advancement. Ultimately, the question raised by Hassan El Fad is simple: do we want to become a modern society only through infrastructure, or also through behavior? The answer will likely determine the true face of Morocco tomorrow.

Abdelwahab Doukkali, or the Nobility of a Morocco That Sings ... 6406

Aziz Daouda, 1 mon.

- Art - Society - Lifestyle -

2.6 min read.

Abdelwahab Doukkali, or the nobility of a Morocco that still sings; that has always sung and will sing forever. There are artists we admire. And then there are those we love deeply, because they end up becoming part of our own intimate memory, of ourselves simply. Abdelwahab Doukkali belonged, and will belong until the last breath, to this rarest of categories for many people among us. With his passing, Morocco loses more than a great singer. It loses a voice of civilization. A way of being Moroccan with elegance, depth, modesty, and grandeur. He had a unique way of making the modernity and the soul of this Western land that is Morocco dialogue with the so-called Arab East, without ever betraying either one. Doukkali was not just an interpreter. He was a fine architect of emotion. In him, every note seemed thoughtful, inhabited, almost meditated. He sang as one recounts a noble wound, a sincere love, a burning pain, a bittersweet nostalgia, with that restraint that characterized the great artists of his generation. Those who knew that power lies not in excess, but in mastery and sincerity. I will always keep in memory a moment of rare human intensity. One evening, almost intimately, he sang me أغار عليك (“I Am Jealous”). Few artists could give such emotional depth to this piece. He was surprised that I knew such a rarely performed work. For another, this song would have been simply beautiful. For Doukkali, it became a sentimental vertigo. He told me how, on the road back from Marrakech to Casablanca one day, he had the genius to add a word to such a beautiful poem whose potential he didn't know how to unlock. A little word added to lyrics spoken by a woman… قالت (“She said”). Thus, he gave himself the right to sing jealousy on the edge of madness; the obsession that only women hold the secret to, transforming pain into sublimated romance. His voice did not just sing the words. It gave them a second life, the Abdelwahab Doukkali life. And how can we not mention this other artistic feat, that of having sublimated مرسول الحب (“Marsoul L’hob”)? Was Tayeb Laalej aware of what his lyrics, composed in his car, would become... Many interpret, many compose, many sing. Few improve the note, the word, the melody, the emotion. Doukkali did so with that musical intelligence belonging only to the very greatest. He instinctively understood where to place the breath, where to suspend the silence, where to let the orchestra fade before pure emotion, where to place a word, sketch a smile, address the audience. That is genius. Modern Morocco owes so much to men like Abdelwahab Doukkali. A generation that carried Moroccan culture throughout the Arab world and beyond. One day, he found himself singing in French… Go ask him why he sang *Je suis jaloux* with dignity and refinement. This generation that produced cultured, elegant, rooted, and universal artists at once is almost gone… Cursed be this year that took Belkhayate and Doukkali from us… Thank you, Fès, for giving us these two and so many others… Today, listening to his songs again, we also measure what our era has lost: artistic patience, the choice of poetry and words, respect for the public, the cult of work well done. Abdelwahab Doukkali belonged to that time when Moroccan song was a work of art and not a product. His passing brings immense sadness to all who knew him, loved him, or simply listened to him one day with the heart. But great artists have this mysterious victory over death: they continue to inhabit our lives long after their departure. As long as in Morocco a voice hums أغار عليك, as long as a heartbroken lover discovers كان يا ما كان, Abdelwahab Doukkali will never truly leave this country. Madly in love with this land, he built there forever a rampart… That of fine taste with ما أنا إلا بشر (“I Am Only Human”). There goes Doukkali to rejoin friends: Tayeb Laalej, Nizar Qabbani, Abderrahim Sekkat, Ahmed Chajai, Lamghari, Abdelhay Skalli, Mohamed Fouiteh, Abdelhadi Belkhayate, Naima Samih. The others will forgive me for not naming them. In this moment of pain, it's a bit complicated. Tonight, Oum Kaltoum, Farid El Atrach, Abdelhalim Hafid, El Mouji, Baligh Hamdi, Mohamed Abdelwahab, Riad Sounbati... will welcome him. Artists of this caliber do not die. They become national memory. As good Muslims, let us simply say: “We are to God and to Him we return,” and pray. Pray for Doukkali to rest in peace. Those who pass not far from his grave will surely hear him humming this or that song they adore from him.

youtu.be/DAV4xLgVJNE?si=9EVIfYbi...

Ouarzazate: From Logistical Isolation to a Systemic Development Emergency 6913

Aziz Daouda, 1 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.1 min read.

Tourism and film professionals in Ouarzazate have once again expressed their anger with force and clarity. This isn't the first time they've risen up like this. In contrast, citizens murmur their frustrations quietly. Even when they shout their boiling rage, their voices seem blocked by the height of the Atlas peaks. They don't reach or don't clearly reach, where they need to. Since Ouarzazate has been under the Errachidia region, authorities and elected regional bodies have focused on their own city and its immediate surroundings, relegating Ouarzazate "on the other side" to oblivion. These cries are no longer mere sectoral demands. They reveal a long-standing multidimensional structural crisis. Beyond the glaring failure of air connectivity, the most visible symptom of deep isolation, lies a fragile and incoherent territorial development model. Professionals operating in Ouarzazate tell anyone who will listen that the city's tourist and cinematic appeal is in peril. In a globalized economy, the fluidity of flows determines competitiveness. The lack of direct flights from key European and North American source markets erodes Ouarzazate's attractiveness, a local economic pillar driven by its two flagship industries: tourism and cinema. Dependence on Casablanca or Marrakech hubs breaks the value chain, while logistical unpredictability deters tour operators and international productions. Add to that, it must be said, the surprisingly weak domestic air links. This domino effect hammers the local economy. Hotels see declining occupancy, margins shrink, and recent investments lack profitability. Indirect jobs in guiding, transport, crafts, and restaurants become increasingly precarious. If tour operators bypass the destination, film productions turn to more accessible rivals. Stays shorten dramatically. Ouarzazate isn't rejected: it's circumvented, which in tourism amounts to a gradual disappearance. ### The Mining Paradox: Wealth Without Local Benefits Morocco's Southeast is rich in strategic minerals: silver, manganese, cobalt. Yet the value generated escapes the territory: - Weak local redistribution: revenues are barely reinvested in infrastructure, skilled jobs, or public services. - Enclave effect: mining sites are isolated, without economic integration. - Negative externalities: intense pressure on water resources leads to environmental degradation without compensation. - Lack of processing: exporting raw materials deprives the region of industrial value chains. Thus, the territory generates wealth without building its future, deepening a profound sense of injustice. ### Governance Challenges and Systemic Risks His Majesty King Mohammed VI has repeatedly denounced the "two-speed Morocco," highlighting serious governance failures. Yet, despite unprecedented discursive promotion, cinematic hub, gateway to the desert, Ouarzazate remains poorly integrated into a genuine unclogging strategy. Where is the coordination between transport, tourism, and territorial development? Why do intangible infrastructures (connectivity, logistics) lag behind those in other regions? Does anyone have a clear vision of Ouarzazate's role in the national economy? This glaring deficit turns huge potential into fragility. The image suffers badly: complex access for travelers, uncertainties for productions. Perception being a key asset, a silent marginalization takes hold, threatening exit from international radars: fewer tourist nights, fewer films, fewer investments, fewer jobs. A vicious circle relegates this true center of excellence to forgotten peripheries. ### Rethinking the Model: Levers for Coherent Development The challenge goes beyond the unclogging some imagine. The entire model must be rethought: - By leveraging the mining sector to fund regional development, infrastructure, and training. - By creating synergies across all sectors (mining, tourism, energy). - By ensuring equitable wealth redistribution. - By encouraging executives, especially natives or those from the region, to settle there, return, and invest. - By integrating the region into a coherent national vision. Without this, Ouarzazate will keep accumulating paradoxes: Rich in resources, poor in benefits; World-famous, locally marginalized. In the end, it's no longer just an economic and social crisis penalizing Ouarzazate and its people, but a threat to territorial cohesion and justice itself. Ouarzazate's cries aim only to raise awareness of its ignored structural crisis... Until when?

Hassan II Trophy: Fifty Years of History, Memory, and Royal Vision... 7040

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Society - Sports -

1.8 min read.

There are anniversaries that are more than mere numbers. They are milestones in a life, landmarks in memory. This 50th edition of the Hassan II Golf Trophy is one of them. And for me, it holds a special flavor: that of half a century of history that I have had the modest privilege of living through. I can still picture myself, young and enthusiastic, assigned by my friend Najib Salmi to cover the very first edition for *L’Opinion*. We didn't yet know we were witnessing the birth of an event destined to span decades and place Morocco on the world map of golf. At the time, the gamble seemed bold. Golf was not a popular sport in Morocco, let alone a vector for international image. But that gamble bore the mark of a vision. That of Hassan II. To put it bluntly: the Hassan II Trophy is not just a sports competition. It is the expression of a strategy. A way, for a visionary sovereign, to anticipate what modern diplomacy would become: a diplomacy of influence, image, cultural and sporting outreach. Hassan II understood, well before many others, that sport could be a universal language. A space where nations meet without rigid protocol, where elites exchange in an informal setting, and where a country's image is built with subtlety. Golf, in particular, offered that prestigious yet discreet dimension, perfectly aligned with his idea of Morocco's positioning. Golf in Morocco had its own tradition and unique flavor, which a certain Winston Churchill regularly came to savor... Over the editions, I watched this trophy grow. From a still-confidential tournament, it became a recognized stop on the international circuit. I saw champions come and go, infrastructure evolve, and organization professionalize. But more than that, I saw a royal intuition proven right, year after year. What strikes me today, looking back, is not just the event's longevity. It is its coherence. Nothing was left to chance. The choice of courses, the quality of hospitality, the attention to detail... all of it meets one demand: to make Morocco a reference. And then there is that human dimension, often overlooked in official reports. The encounters, the chats by the green, the bonds forged over the years. Najib Salmi is no longer here to share this moment, but I know he would have savored it, like me, this continuity. We had begun this adventure almost as curious onlookers; today we see it consecrated. Fifty editions later, the Hassan II Trophy is far more than a tournament. It is a legacy. That of a king whom history will surely remember as one of the greatest of the Alaouite dynasty, not only for his political acumen, but for his ability to see far, very far ahead. Today, the vision is renewed. His Majesty King Mohammed VI has revitalized the approach with vigor, and His Royal Highness Prince Moulay Rachid ensures it translates into reality in the best possible way. And I, a mere chronicler of this long span of time, today measure the privilege of having been there at the beginning... and of still being here to recount its trajectory and savor the spectacle with the pride of a fulfilled citizen living his Moroccan identity.

Moroccan Football: When Spectacle Becomes a Pretext for Confrontation... 7199

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Politics - Society - Sports -

2.8 min read.

There was, at the outset, a kind of almost naive optimism. By modernizing infrastructure, offering fans stadiums to international standards, professionalizing organization and hospitality, and shifting to what's now called the "fan experience," many believed Moroccan football would cross a threshold—not just sporting, but civic as well. The idea was simple: by elevating hosting conditions, public behavior would automatically improve. Recent events during FAR–Raja at the Moulay Abdallah Complex brutally contradict this hypothesis. A rude awakening that, naively, no one anticipated. What happened there is neither trivial, nor isolated, nor should it be dismissed as a mere incident. On the contrary, it's the symptom of a deeper malaise that categorically transcends the realm of football. The illusion of infrastructure as a driver of change has simply shattered. Morocco has massively invested in its sports facilities, eyeing continental and international ambitions, and of course a legacy and assets for youth and football. The Moulay Abdallah Complex, a showcase of this policy, is meant to embody this new era, with security, comfort, and organization. Yet these modern infrastructures failed to prevent scenes of violence, vandalism, and clashes. This highlights a fundamental analytical error. Social problems aren't solved by purely material responses. Stadiums aren't airtight bubbles insulated from society's tensions. They often mirror and amplify them. For some time now, they've become the venue and crucible for claims and expressions that go far beyond football. The fundamental question is to open our eyes. Are we dealing with football fans or organized groups, manipulated and spurred on as the spearhead of obscure agendas? Doesn't this echo the methods of the Open Society? It would be misleading to reduce these outbursts to mere "fan excesses." A portion of the crowd in the stands clearly isn't there for the football. In many cases, these are structured groups, mostly young, sometimes very young, who instrumentalize the sports event as a space for violent expression. They themselves are likely manipulated and victimized. The match then becomes a pretext, and the stadium a stage where power struggles unfold that have little to do with the game. Clashes with law enforcement aren't accidental. They're sought, prepared, sometimes even ritualized. Should we see manipulation at play? The question deserves to be asked without naivety. In numerous international contexts, fan movements have been infiltrated, instrumentalized, or co-opted for political, ideological, or criminal ends. Morocco isn't inherently immune to such drifts. Thinking otherwise is ingenuous. Faced with these derailments, another element stands out: the silence of certain clubs. This muteness is, at best, cowardice. At worst, implicit complicity or simply fear of confrontation. Clubs are the first affected. Their image and finances are directly hit by these behaviors. Their moral responsibility is engaged. Yet few take a clear, firm, public stance to condemn these acts and disavow these groups. Why this silence? Fear of losing part of their fan base? Inability to control groups that have become autonomous? Or calculation, viewing these radical fringes as contributors to stadium atmosphere and pressure despite everything? Whatever the reason, this stance is untenable. Clubs can't claim the benefits of popular support, enjoy colossal subsidies and investments at taxpayers' expense, while turning a blind eye to their gravest excesses. Treating them as incidents handed off to security services isn't acceptable. Clubs must speak out, express themselves, disavow, and openly condemn. FAR's leaders have just broken this silence with a statement denouncing what happened. All football clubs and their league likely need to go further. Why not join as civil parties? The image of clubs, football, and the country is severely damaged. This is also a matter of authority and societal project. At bottom, the issue transcends football. It points to a broader stake: authority, youth guidance, and meaning given to collective spaces. When youths use a match to "settle scores," it reveals deficits in integration, benchmarks, and prospects. The stadium becomes an outlet, but also a training ground for confrontation. Action is thus needed, and quickly. Youths all dressed in black eerily recall fascist movements from another era, another world. The response can't be purely securitarian, though necessary. It must be holistic: educational, social, cultural. It requires holding all actors accountable—notably, it bears repeating, parents, society, clubs, the federation, local authorities, and media. Labeling openly dangerous behaviors as "festive expressions" and broadcasting their images is reckless. It implicitly gives visibility to movements that thrive on it, demonstrating their power and attracting more followers and sympathizers. Some, naively, push crowds toward extreme behaviors through inappropriate narratives and semantics they don't master. More than ever, it's time to restore football's essence: a cultural moment of sharing, collective emotion, framed rivalry. When it becomes a battlefield, it loses its purpose. It's thus urgent to reaffirm clear lines: - Zero tolerance for organized violence - Clubs held accountable for their supporters - Professional league held accountable - Identification and sanctioning of troublemakers behind the scenes - Rebuilding a healthy bond between youth and sport. For without this, the world's finest stadiums will remain empty shells devoid of meaning, unable to contain tensions they're not meant to resolve. Moroccan football deserves better. And it's still time to right the course—if we face reality head-on, with intelligence and without complacency.

April 6: The Moroccan Idea That Conquered the World... 8388

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Society - Sports -

2.2 min read.

April 6 is now etched into the global calendar as the International Day of Sport for Development and Peace. A celebration championed by the United Nations, echoed across all continents, and enthusiastically embraced by millions of athletes, institutions, and enthusiasts. Yet behind this worldwide recognition lies an origin that often goes unnoticed. It’s a Moroccan idea, that of Hamid Kamal Lahlou. The irony is striking. While the world fervently celebrates this day, Morocco—the birthplace of the initiative—sometimes seems to lag behind, as if hesitating to fully claim its paternity. Yes, there have been scattered initiatives and events here and there. But they fall far short of what we might have hoped for. We won’t list the few organized manifestations, so as not to ruffle feathers by omitting any. In any case, there are no major events from the sports authorities, such as the ministry, the National Olympic Committee, or the major Royal Moroccan Sports Federations. Is this simply an oversight, or a more subtle form of distancing? The question deserves to be asked, especially when you know the personality of its originator. Kamal Lahlou is not a consensual figure. Journalist, sports leader, communicator, he has established himself over decades as a singular voice in Morocco’s media and sports landscape. His career is dense: former handball player, originally a physical education teacher and inspector, committed actor in the development of national sports, he has held important responsibilities, notably within the Moroccan National Olympic Committee and the Association of African National Olympic Committees. He remains president of the Royal Moroccan Weightlifting Federation and vice-president of the Mohammed VI Sports Champions Foundation. But beyond titles and roles, it’s his words that stand out and his stance that impresses. Direct, clear, often critical, Lahlou disturbs as much as he inspires. He practices neither doublespeak nor complacency. In an environment where restraint is sometimes elevated to an implicit rule, his frankness cuts through. He points out shortcomings, challenges decision-makers, and defends a demanding vision of sport as a lever for development and national influence. This positioning has earned him as many admirers as detractors and doubtless even more denigrators. Some praise his courage and consistency, others reproach him for a tone deemed too incisive. Still others find nothing to fault him for, yet behind his back, lavish him with gratuitous reprimands. But all agree on one point: Kamal Lahlou is an incontournable figure, impossible to ignore. His patriotism admits no ambiguity. Behind every statement, every critique, emerges a clear ambition: to see the Kingdom take the place it deserves on the international sports scene. The April 6 Day fits precisely into this logic. By proposing to dedicate a date to sport as a vector for peace and development, Lahlou sought not personal legitimation, but recognition of the fundamental role sport can play in modern societies. He thus transcribed, in his own way, the royal vision of sport and the role the country can play on a universal scale in service of peace. So why this relative discretion in Morocco around this day? Is it the price to pay for free speech? The backlash of rivalries that have no place? An implicit way to marginalize a figure deemed too independent? A means to silence an ambitious voice? Or simply a deficit of collective memory? Whatever the answers, or the answer, one reality remains. April 6 is an idea born in Morocco, carried by a Moroccan, and adopted by the entire world. At a time when the country seeks to strengthen its soft power and highlight its successes, it might be time to reconcile origin and celebration. For recognizing this initiative to Kamal Lahlou is not just about honoring a man. Does he really need it? It’s rather about embracing a part of contemporary national and global sports history, and reminding that beyond infrastructure and performances, ideas too can change the world. And if it’s the Kingdom of Morocco at the origin, that’s even better.

Mediterranean: The Great Erasure of the Amazigh in Eurocentric Historical Narrative... 8892

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Politics - History - Society -

2.9 min read.

The history of relations between the two shores of the Mediterranean is deeply biased. Behind the lazy opposition between a supposedly dynamic North and a South relegated to the margins lies a more serious omission: **the systematic erasure of the determining role of the Amazighs (Berbers, Moors) in the formation of Mediterranean Europe**. This erasure is neither neutral nor accidental; it stems from a genuine ideological construct. Long before the colonial era, Amazigh populations structured most of North African space and held a central place in the political, military, commercial, and cultural dynamics of the Mediterranean, forming essential pillars of its history. They ensured an almost continuous link between sub-Saharan Africa and the northern Mediterranean. From Al-Andalus to medieval Sicily, their imprint is deep and enduring. A symbol of this centrality, the conquest of the Iberian Peninsula in the 8th century was led by Tariq ibn Ziyad (as named in the sources) at the head of a predominantly Amazigh army. Chronicles emphasize its largely Berber composition. This reality is systematically downplayed in favor of an Arab-centered narrative that invisibilizes the predominant Amazigh component. Without the Amazighs, there simply would have been no lasting Muslim implantation in Western Europe and the subsequent impacts. Reducing Al-Andalus to a mere outgrowth of the "Arab world" is a grave falsification by oversimplification. The dynasties that drove its golden age, foremost the Almoravids and Almohads, were of Amazigh origin. Emerging from Saharan and Atlas Berber confederations, they refounded the political balances of North Africa and Al-Andalus, building a Hispano-Moorish civilization that remains vibrant today. This fundamentally Amazigh civilization marked urban and monumental architecture, still visible in Seville, Marrakech, Fez, or Cordoba. It structured religious and legal thought with reformist Malikism among the Almoravids, doctrinal rigor among the Almohads for Muslims, and Maimonides' thought for Jews. It also durably impacted the political and military organization of the western Mediterranean. Southern Spain and Portugal still bear visible and toponymic traces of this Amazigh presence today. Ignoring them mutilates a deeply shared history. To refresh this memory, what better than a little tour of Spain's Extremadura. This influence did not stop at the Andalusian shores. In Sicily and southern Italy in general, particularly Palermo, interactions between North African worlds and European spaces were constant during Islamic and then Norman periods, via military contingents, trade networks, and knowledge transfers. These circulations included a significant Amazigh component, often retroactively dissolved into the vague formula of "Arab influence." Couscous is still present there, accompanied by orange blossom almond sweets. By speaking indistinctly of "Arabs," dominant narratives erase the real plurality of actors and obliterate the African depth of these exchanges. This erasure stems from several cumulative biases. First, **Eurocentrism** and the inability to admit that African populations were co-founders of Mediterranean Europe. Second, **historiographical Arabocentrism** and the tendency to homogenize the Muslim world by invisibilizing its non-Arab components, primarily the Amazighs. Finally, **colonial legacy**, with the need to smooth and hierarchize narratives to legitimize a supposed European civilizational superiority. The result is clear: the Amazighs are relegated to a secondary, folkloric, or local role, even though they were structuring actors of the western Mediterranean. Their impact is unequivocally one of the most important in the region's history. Correcting this bias does not boil down to adding a "Berber" chapter to already-written history books. The narration itself must be reconfigured. It involves reinscribing the Amazighs at the heart of the Mediterranean narrative. Southern Europe is not solely the heir to Rome and Christianity. It is also, in part, the product of North African contributions, particularly Amazigh ones, visible in its political structures, urban landscapes, culinary and clothing arts, certain names, and imaginaries. Isn't the name Maurice an example of indelible impact? The western Mediterranean must be conceived as a space of co-construction, not as a theater of unilateral diffusion from North to South. Recognizing this is not a reflex of identity politics or any ideological claim, but a minimal requirement of scientific rigor. Mediterranean history has been flattened to serve power logics, at the cost of extreme simplification of trajectories and actors. The Amazighs are among the great erased, if not the only ones excluded. Fully reintegrating them into the narrative is not "rewriting" history in the sense of distorting it: it is **repairing** it, by restoring to the Mediterranean its African depth and true complexity. This approach is essential to ease relations in the region and build a solid future for its populations, whether in political, economic, or simply human terms. For centuries, this unbalanced narrative has permeated academic, media, and political discourses. Yet the Mediterranean has always been a sea of circulation, not domination; a space of permanent interactions, not a border between hierarchized worlds. From Antiquity and likely before, it has been a zone of mutual fertilization between African, Levantine, and European civilizations. Archaeology demonstrates this powerfully. Phoenicians, Romans, Carthaginians, Egyptians, Numidians, and of course Amazighs structured its commercial, cultural, and scientific exchanges. The idea of an autonomous Europe, the sole source of modernity, is merely a late reconstruction. Not so long ago on a geological scale, the strait between Morocco and Spain was barely more than one kilometer wide... It falls to historians, teachers, and school systems on both shores to correct this, with a view to a common future founded on an equally shared past.

Doping: Move Beyond Fiction, Confront the Public Health Issue... 9240

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Politics - Society - Sports -

3 min read.

It’s tempting to dismiss the recent doping cases in Moroccan football with a wave of the hand, reducing them to individual errors, mishaps, or even injustices. It’s tempting, but dangerous. What’s at stake today goes far beyond a few disciplinary sanctions. Doping, in its contemporary form, is no longer just cheating: it’s a brutal revealer of a deeper dysfunction—an out-of-control sports and health ecosystem, sustained by a comfortable illusion: “football isn’t affected.” For a long time, football has sheltered itself behind a convenient fiction: that of a sport relatively spared from doping, an illusion maintained on a global scale despite well-documented precedents. In Morocco, this fiction persists: every case is treated as an anomaly, never as a signal. That said, what has recently come to light does concern football, but it’s far from the only sport affected. The rise of the Moroccan Anti-Doping Agency (AMAD) and the significant increase in controls have changed the game: what we’re seeing today isn’t necessarily more doping, but more truth. And that truth is unsettling. The narrative of “accidental doping” is increasingly holding up poorly against the facts. The dominant discourse is well-rehearsed: athletes are victims of involuntary doping, from contaminated supplements, poorly prescribed medications, and good-faith errors. This discourse isn’t entirely false. It’s simply incomplete. Because behind “involuntary doping” lies a more troubling reality: a widespread normalization of substance ingestion, in a culture where presumed immediate performance gains take precedence over knowledge, caution, and medical oversight. Yet it’s nearly impossible to prove that ingesting this or that substance enhances sports performance. What is certain and proven, however, are the inevitable health consequences. Anti-doping law is implacable: the athlete is responsible for everything they consume, whether they intended to cheat or not. This principle of strict liability isn’t an injustice, it’s a safeguard. But athletes must first be given the real means to understand what they’re ingesting. Clearly, that’s not the case for a large portion of them today. For elite athletes, controls are there to deter and sanction when necessary. The problem becomes even graver for young people—and not-so-young—who train for themselves, outside the most visible circuits. That’s where supplements represent a new gray area and the heart of the issue, widely underestimated. Supplements have become the gateway to a diffuse, invisible, insidious form of doping. Uncertified products, uncontrolled imports, aggressive marketing: everything conspires to maintain an illusion of safety, while these products are a sanitary blind spot. Their massive consumption among young people is rarely medically supervised. It relies on informal recommendations, locker-room advice, impromptu sellers, and sometimes even social media “influencers.” You can even find them in some souks and dairies. The result is unequivocal: careers shattered over a few grams of unidentified powder, but above all, and most alarmingly, weakened bodies, hormonal disorders, metabolic imbalances appearing earlier and earlier. Doping is no longer just a sports fraud; it’s becoming a full-fledged public health issue. The silence and sometimes passive complicity of clubs and gyms is another blind spot in the system. It takes courage to ask the uncomfortable question: where are the clubs in all this? Few gyms are truly spared. Some don’t hesitate to sell, without the slightest scruple, products whose true composition and potential effects on users’ bodies are known only to their suppliers. And how do you respond to a young person who challenges you: “You tell us these products aren’t good, but the coach says we have to take them”? In many cases, medical oversight is insufficient, if not nonexistent. Young people evolve in an environment where physical appearance is glorified, but scientific and medical culture remains marginal. This void is filled by improvisation and worse, a form of collective abdication of responsibility. When the scandal breaks, the athlete faces the sanction alone. The club vanishes from the story. Yet the law clearly defines the various levels of responsibility: products don’t fall from the sky. This asymmetry is no longer sustainable. Responsibility can no longer be considered solely individual. Doping in Moroccan football, ever since two high-level players have been implicated, can no longer be analyzed solely through the lens of personal fault. It’s the product of an insufficiently regulated supplements market, a lack of structured medical oversight, increasingly early performance pressure, and a sports culture that values results over understanding, in denial of an existing law. In response, the AMAD, based on strict rules, has been tasked with implementing the national anti-doping policy, and it does so brilliantly. For it, mechanically applying rules without fine-tuned adaptation to local realities and without massive education isn’t enough. Sanctioning without educating treats symptoms while ignoring the disease. What needs to change now is no longer marginal correction: the system must be rethought. Concretely: - Mandate medical oversight in all clubs. - Create a national list of certified, controlled, and traceable supplements. - Systematically train young athletes and their coaches on substance risks. - Hold clubs and staff legally accountable, so they can no longer hide behind ignorance or good faith. And above all: drop the general hypocrisy and face reality. Morocco isn’t an isolated case. It’s simply at a turning point. What’s at play today is the shift from marginal doping to a systemic form, not organized, but diffuse, cultural, almost unconscious. Refusing to see it is accepting that a generation of young people will pay the price for this blindness. Doping isn’t just a matter of cheating. It’s a public health issue, and now, a matter of collective responsibility.

GITEX Africa in Marrakech: Showcase of Ambition or Revealer of Contradictions? 8892

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.9 min read.

In Marrakech, GITEX Africa is closing its doors amid a now-familiar buzz: thousands of exhibitors, tens of thousands of visitors, international delegations, and African startups seeking visibility. Morocco is thus displaying a clear ambition: to become a continental tech hub, or even a Euro-African platform for innovation. But behind this seductive showcase, one question arises acutely: is the country truly giving itself all the means to match its ambitions, however legitimate they may be? Morocco certainly starts with undeniable advantages. Its political stability, modern infrastructure, strategic geographic positioning, investments in telecoms and renewable energies, and the undoubtedly competitive level of its youth and universities make it a serious candidate to host Africa's digital economy. Institutions like UM6P or Technopark Maroc are contributing to the emergence of a dynamic entrepreneurial ecosystem. The talent is there. The will, surely. The ideas, too. And yet. Innovation cannot be decreed; it must be unleashed. The economy of artificial intelligence and startups rests on a fundamental principle: speed. Speed of execution, decision-making, and transactions. Yet in Morocco, this speed is often slowed, hampered. The heart of the problem lies in the paradox of wanting to build a modern digital economy while maintaining administrative logics inherited from a control economy, or one from another era. Initiative and innovation require freedom. Freedom to invest, transfer, trade, test, and often fail. The more constraints there are, the more innovation contracts. Thus, the foreign exchange lock is a structural handicap. The role of the Office des Changes is central in this equation. Designed to protect macroeconomic balances, its regulatory framework now appears out of sync with the demands of the digital age. A Moroccan entrepreneur wanting to pay for a cloud service abroad, raise international funds, sell a SaaS solution overseas, or simply test a global business model often faces delays, caps, or procedures incompatible with modern market realities. Meanwhile, their counterpart in France, London, the "Silicon Valley" of Europe, or today in Germany, Sweden, and the Netherlands, major players supported by strong innovation dynamics and investments in AI and SaaS, can move and close deals much faster. Here, the new economy has found the most fertile ground. Where a startup must act in milliseconds, here it sometimes waits days, even weeks. In a world of instant competition, this lag is fatal. Let’s stay on our continent and ask why other African countries are advancing faster? It’s a disturbing question, but one worth asking without complex: why do countries, sometimes less endowed with infrastructure, attract tech and AI giants more? Ecosystems like those in Lagos, Accra, Nairobi, Mauritius, or Kigali have grasped one essential thing: in the digital economy, regulation must support, not hinder. Rwanda bets on an agile, pro-business administration. Kenya benefits from a liberated and innovative fintech ecosystem. Nigeria, despite its challenges, offers market depth and operational flexibility that seduce investors. Meanwhile, major tech players hesitate to establish a lasting presence in Morocco, despite its structural assets. The risk is becoming a showcase without substance. The danger is clear: events like GITEX Africa could become shiny vitrines disconnected from on-the-ground realities, where others come to do business and leave. A digital economy is not built through international trade shows, but through deep structural reforms. Without that, Morocco risks remaining a stopover rather than an anchor for innovation. To turn ambition into reality, several levers must be activated without delay: - Gradually liberalize the exchange regime. - Enable startups to freely open foreign currency accounts, transfer funds without administrative burdens, and operate internationally in real time. - Establish a true specific framework for tech exporting companies. - Create a “regulatory sandbox” for AI and fintech. Inspired by international models, this setup would allow startups to test innovations in a relaxed framework, under supervision, without immediately facing all regulatory constraints. A "regulatory sandbox" is a controlled testing space for technological innovations. It enables AI and fintech startups to test products in a lightened regulatory environment, supervised by authorities. This is a key concept. Drawing from models like the UK’s FCA or the EU’s AI Act, it creates a secure space where companies experiment without full authorizations and compliance upfront. Regulators oversee to assess risks, limit consumer impact, and adapt future laws. - Accelerate administrative digitalization. Drastically reduce processing times, automate authorizations, and introduce “silence means approval” logic in some cases. - Encourage international venture capital. Facilitate entry and exit for foreign investors, simplify fundraising mechanisms, and secure cross-border operations legally. - Bet on freedom as a strategic driver. This may be the most decisive point. Innovation does not thrive in a climate of suspicion or excessive control. It needs trust. Morocco stands at a crossroads. It can either continue prioritizing control, at the risk of braking its own momentum, or make a bold turn toward greater economic freedom. GITEX Africa is a tremendous opportunity. But it will be an empty symbol if not accompanied by a profound paradigm shift. In the artificial intelligence economy, presence is not enough. Competitiveness is key. The watchword: the modern economy flourishes in milliseconds, needs freedom, and does not tolerate endless administrative delays and controls. If history shows how we missed the industrial revolution, let’s not miss the digital one, as it could weigh on generations to come and thus on the country’s future.

Morocco-Egypt: Strategic Reunion or Fleeting Truce Beneath the Sands of Pragmatism? 9189

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.5 min read.

Could anyone have imagined this scene in Cairo and Rabat just a short time ago? Yet, just a few days ago, Prime Ministers Aziz Akhannouch, flanked by seven of his ministers, and Mostafa Madbouly, no less well-equipped, signed and oversaw twenty-two agreements, some more significant than others, under the flash of cameras. Official speeches celebrated a "relationship at an unprecedented level." Broad smiles fueled hopes for the long-desired rapprochement between two economic powerhouses in the MENA zone. At first glance, it looks like a grand reunion. But behind this staging, doubtless sincere, a question lingers. Is this a historic turning point or merely an opportunistic convergence driven by recent geopolitical developments? To see clearly, let's dive back into a history heavy with mistrust. As early as 1963, the Sand War saw Gamal Abdel Nasser's Egypt align with Algeria, even pushing it against Morocco, in the name of a Third World pan-Arabism that stigmatized Rabat as a "Western pawn," they chorused. They thought they were on the right side, that of the "Bolshevik revolutionaries"... The goal was obviously to destabilize the monarchy and, why not, bring it down. The debacle was unequivocal. Egypt lost feathers there... and a high-profile prisoner: Hosni Mubarak, who would later become president. Hassan II, in lordly fashion, returned him to Egypt as a magnanimous gift. Later, on the Moroccan Sahara issue, Cairo adopted a cautious but oh-so-vague ambiguity: neither support for the Polisario nor frank backing for Morocco; a tightrope walk that, in Morocco, passed for latent perfidy, especially amid triumphant embraces between Egyptians and Algerians. It was Hosni Mubarak who came begging Hassan II to release the prisoners of war that Boumédiène had lost on the ground at Amgala, with the illustrious Chengriha on the list... Egypt thus seemed to blow hot and cold on the matter. The recent summit undoubtedly marks a pivot. Twenty-two agreements signed to accelerate exchanges and elevate them to levels deemed impossible just days earlier. But the highlight of the meeting is Egypt's alignment with UN Resolution 2797, validating the Kingdom's proposed autonomy as the only viable framework. Rabat, in discreet diplomatic fashion, downplays this support as if it were a given. It's not gratis: it reflects an Arab realignment, possibly ending the ideological divides of the 1960s and prioritizing pragmatism. Iranian threats, and perhaps even Turkish ones, may well play a role. Sisi's Egypt, through this rapprochement, gains a stable ally: the Sharifian Kingdom, a truly diversified and coherent Arab counterweight in all its endeavors. Economically, however, the picture is mixed. The 2006 Agadir Agreements, already linking Morocco, Egypt, and Jordan in a free-trade zone, failed to deliver on all promises. Exchanges have grown, but remain timid due to persistent bureaucracy. Worse, a crisis erupted over cars produced in Morocco, blocked by protectionist taxes. Egypt deemed them insufficiently Moroccan, reigniting the Kingdom's frustrations. These twenty-two new commitments thus aim to rev up the engine, with cross-investments to anchor Morocco in East Africa and open doors for Egypt to the West. The key argument is clear: numbers trump grudges. That said, recent crises—not so distant—prove the situation's fragility, until proven otherwise. We must remain confident in a lasting reconciliation, even if recent popular imaginaries hold it back. Egyptian sports media, in particular, remains broadly virulent against Morocco, betraying a tenacious rivalry. Geopolitically, Algiers will react sharply, forcing Cairo into its usual ambiguity. Will Egypt bow to an Algerian diktat in the name of shared history? It's not out of the question to see Egypt dispatch an envoy to tell the Algerians what they want to hear, softening the disappointment. There are also Egypt's internal vagaries and frequent reshuffles, creating instabilities that threaten the whole. Arab history teaches that alliances are extremely volatile. Yes, a pragmatic era has indeed begun, conditioned by economic convergence beyond the Agadir Agreements. It drives regional stability and the triumph of calculation over ideology. Let's dare hope it's not an emotional reconciliation, but a certain strategic normalization, placing the past in parentheses for the service of the present and at least 150 million people. The agreements must also weather the storms of the Middle East and North Africa, forming a foundation that could seduce the rest of the region's countries toward a true economic continuum respecting the geographic and demographic one. So, Moroccans and Egyptians, appeased and confident, will listen together to Oum Kaltoum sing *Aghadan alqak*... and savor a good tea in the shade of a pyramid or the Hassan Tower...

Brain Drain and Demographic Decline: Morocco's Silent Double Penalty... 9999

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.7 min read.

Beyond the conventional rhetoric on the Kingdom's modernization and attractiveness, a more worrying reality is gradually emerging: brain drain. Long seen as a side effect of globalization, it is now becoming a structural factor in socio-economic fragility. This dynamic is taking on new proportions as a demographic transition marked by slowdown, or even contraction, of the national pool of talent takes hold. The hemorrhage is old, but it is now becoming critical. The migration of skills is not new in Morocco. For decades, engineers, doctors, researchers, or senior executives have headed to Europe, North America, or more recently, Gulf countries. The reasons are well-known: higher salaries, more attractive working conditions, greater professional recognition, more mature innovation ecosystems, advantageous taxation. In a context of strong demographic growth, this loss was partly absorbed by the continuous expansion of the base of graduates. The education system, despite its limitations, fed a sufficient flow to compensate—at least quantitatively—for the departures. But this equation is changing. The demographic transition, a turning point that cannot be underestimated, will exacerbate the situation further. Morocco has entered an advanced phase of its demographic transition. The decline in the fertility rate, which began in the 1990s, is accelerating and is accompanied by a progressive aging of the population. This phenomenon, often interpreted as a sign of modernization, actually carries profound economic implications. The working-age population, the engine of growth, is tending to stagnate and then decline. The "demographic dividend," which has long supported the country's development, is eroding. In this context, every departure of talent is no longer simply an individual loss; it becomes a systemic shortfall, difficult to compensate for. The socio-economic cost of departures is rising and will be felt more each year. This is where the heart of the problem lies: brain drain, combined with relative demographic decline, generates a cumulative and growing socio-economic cost. First, on the productive front. The loss of rare skills directly affects innovation capacity, business competitiveness, and the country's overall attractiveness. Strategic sectors, health, digital, engineering, scientific research, are the first hit. The case of Moroccan doctors practicing abroad strikingly illustrates this tension. Training a doctor represents a considerable public investment, the benefits of which are often unfortunately captured by other economies. Next, on the fiscal front. Highly qualified profiles are also those who contribute the most to tax revenues and value creation. Their departure shrinks the tax base, undermines budgetary balances, and limits public investment capacities. Finally, on the social front. The scarcity of skills exacerbates territorial and sectoral inequalities. Certain regions or public services find themselves in chronic shortage of qualified personnel, fueling a sense of abandonment and deepening internal fractures. Beyond economic indicators, brain drain leads to an erosion of the "positive externalities" associated with trained elites. An engineer, a researcher, or a doctor does not produce only individual value. They contribute to the diffusion of knowledge, the training of future generations, the emergence of innovative and sustainable ecosystems. When these actors leave the territory, an entire chain of transmission is weakened. The country loses not only skills but also development multipliers. The question is also whether having a large diaspora abroad constitutes an opportunity or merely a compensatory illusion? Faced with this reality, the diaspora argument is often put forward as a counterweight. Financial transfers from Moroccans residing abroad are indeed a significant resource. Similarly, diaspora networks can facilitate investments and know-how transfers. However, this view deserves nuance. Financial remittances, however significant, do not replace the physical presence of skills nor their daily contribution to the national economy. As for returns of experience or investments, they remain marginal compared to the scale of departures. It is therefore necessary to imagine and implement a genuine strategy for retaining and circulating talent. Faced with this double constraint, brain drain and demographic contraction, Morocco can no longer settle for partial responses. This is now a major, even urgent, strategic challenge. Several levers can be considered: - Improve working conditions and remuneration in key sectors, particularly health and research. - Deeply reform the education system to better align training with market needs and promote scientific and technical fields. - Encourage the return of skills through targeted incentives (fiscal, professional, academic). - Develop innovation ecosystems capable of retaining talent by offering career prospects and opportunities for creation. - Implement a "brain circulation" policy, favoring back-and-forth movements rather than permanent departures. What was yesterday a worrying problem is today a structural threat and therefore demands strategic urgency. In a context of progressively scarce qualified human resources, every departure counts more, every loss weighs heavier. Brain drain, combined with the demographic transition, thus constitutes a silent double penalty for Morocco. It calls for awareness on the scale of the stakes: no longer just curbing departures, but rethinking the development model in depth to make human capital, rare and precious, the heart of the national strategy. For, in the end, a country's true wealth lies neither in its natural resources nor in its infrastructure, but in the quality, creativity, and commitment of its women and men.

Morocco and the Trust Economy: The Invisible Capital of Development... 9637

Aziz Daouda, 3 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.9 min read.

In the economic history of nations, some assets are visible, such as natural resources, geographical position, infrastructure, or market size. Others, however, are invisible but often decisive. Among them, trust holds a central place and constitutes the true cement of sustainable economies. An economy can survive with few natural resources, but it cannot prosper sustainably without trust. Morocco today has many assets: remarkable political stability, a strategic position, world-class infrastructure, and active economic diplomacy. Yet, the decisive step in development now consists of building a true trust economy, capable of sustainably reassuring citizens, entrepreneurs, and investors. This is not a slogan. Trust is an institutional and cultural architecture that is built over time. It is the primary capital of a modern economy and a determining factor. It reduces transaction costs, encourages investment, facilitates innovation, and stimulates individual initiative. When an entrepreneur knows that the rules of the game are stable, that contracts will be respected, and that justice is swift and independent, he invests more easily. When a citizen trusts the tax administration and institutions, he more willingly accepts taxes and participates in the formal economy. Conversely, a lack of trust generates precautionary behaviors: capital flight, informality, low long-term investment. The economy then becomes cautious, fragmented, and inefficient. For Morocco, the central question is therefore not only to attract investments, but to create an environment where trust becomes a collective reflex. It would be unfair not to recognize the considerable progress made over the past decades. The foundations are solid. The country has massively invested in infrastructure: Tanger Med is today one of the world's most important logistics hubs. Nador and Dakhla are coming soon. Industrial zones have enabled the emergence of high-performing sectors, in the automotive industry with Renault Group and Stellantis, and in aeronautics with Boeing, Airbus, and Safran. The country's ambition in energy transition is exemplary. This shows that it is capable of carrying out structuring projects and offering a stable macroeconomic environment. However, the next step in development requires a qualitative leap: moving from an opportunity economy to a trust economy with a determining role for the rule of law. Trust first rests on the solidity of institutions. For investors as for entrepreneurs, the predictability of rules is a decisive element. Laws must be stable, readable, and applied equally, with three particularly crucial dimensions: **The independence and efficiency of justice** A swift, accessible, and credible justice system is the keystone of any trust economy. Commercial disputes must be resolved within reasonable timeframes. Judicial decisions must be enforced without ambiguity. Legal security is often the primary factor of attractiveness. **Fiscal stability** Investors do not necessarily expect very low tax rates; they primarily seek stability and readability. Predictable taxation allows companies to plan investments over the long term. Morocco has already undertaken several major tax reforms, but the challenge now is to go further and consolidate a clear and durable fiscal pact. **The fight against rents and privileges** Trust disappears when the rules of the game seem unequal. A dynamic economy relies on fair competition and equal opportunities. Transparency in public markets, competition regulation, and limiting rent situations are essential levers. A trust economy is also an economy of freedom, capable of unleashing entrepreneurial energy. The freedom to enterprise, innovate, and experiment is one of the fundamental engines of growth. Morocco has a talented youth, competent engineers, and an influential diaspora. However, several obstacles remain: administrative complexity, access to financing for SMEs, slowness of certain procedures. The challenge is to create an environment where individual initiative becomes the norm rather than the exception. Moroccan startups in fintech, artificial intelligence, or agricultural technologies already demonstrate the country's potential. With a more fluid ecosystem, they could become tomorrow's economic champions. In a world marked by geopolitical uncertainty and economic recompositions, trust also becomes a comparative advantage. If Morocco manages to position itself as a country where rules are stable, justice reliable, and administration predictable, it could become one of the main investment platforms between Europe and Africa. This ambition aligns with the Kingdom's African strategies and its growing international openness. Trust could thus become Morocco's true economic hallmark. Several strategic orientations deserve to be prioritized: - Accelerate the modernization of the judicial system, particularly in handling commercial disputes and enforcing judicial decisions. - Radically simplify administrative procedures for businesses through complete digitalization of public services. - Establish multi-year fiscal stability to enhance visibility. - Promote transparency and fair competition in all economic sectors. - Strengthen training and valorization of human capital, particularly in technological and scientific fields. - Develop a culture of trust between the State, businesses, and citizens. This dimension is often overlooked, yet it constitutes the invisible foundation of development. Morocco finds itself today at a pivotal moment in its economic history. The infrastructure is in place, strategic ambitions are affirmed, and the international environment offers new opportunities. The next step therefore consists of building a sustainable trust ecosystem. If Morocco succeeds in this gamble, and it must, it could not only accelerate its development but also become one of the most credible and attractive economies in the emerging world. In the 21st-century global economy, trust is undoubtedly the rarest and most powerful capital.

Football: When Passion Kills the Game in Impunity and Tolerance.. 10218

Aziz Daouda, 3 mon.

- Society - Sports -

2.7 min read.

Football (Soccer for Americans) is first and foremost a matter of emotions. By its very essence, it is an open-air theater where human passions play out in their rawest, most primal form. It generates joy, anger, pride, humiliation, and a sense of belonging. From the stands of Camp Nou to those of the Diego Armando Maradona Stadium, through the fervor of the Mohamed V sport Complex in Casablanca, the vibrant enclosures of Stade Léopold Sédar Senghor in Dakar, or even the Parc des Princes in Paris, the Vélodrome In Marseille, and the Bernabeu In Madrid, football transcends the mere framework of the game to become a total social phenomenon. But this emotional intensity, which makes football's beauty, also constitutes its danger. For without rigorous regulation, it quickly tips into excess, then into violence. Today, it must be acknowledged that the rules exist, but they are too often circumvented, stripped of their substance, or applied with disconcerting leniency. On the pitches as in the stands, excesses are multiplying: insults toward referees, provocations between players, systematic challenges, physical violence, projectile throwing, pitch invasions, xenophobic remarks, racist offenses. What was once the exception is tending to become a tolerated norm. Astonishingly, we are starting to get used to it. Recent examples are telling. In Spain, in stadiums renowned for their football culture, racist chants continue to be belted out without shame, targeting players like Vinícius Júnior. Most recently, it was the Muslim community that was insulted. And yet, Spain's current football prodigy is Muslim. An overheated crowd that has doubtless forgotten it wasn't so long ago that it was Muslim itself. Among those chanting these remarks, and without a doubt, some still carry the genes of that recent past... In Dakar, just a few days ago, clashes escalated, turning a sports celebration into a scene of chaos. In Italy, incidents involving supporters who invaded the pitch, during a friendly match, no less, endangered players and officials, recalling the dark hours of European hooliganism in the 1980s. These episodes are not isolated; they reflect a worrying normalization of violence in and around stadiums. Even at the highest level of African football, behavioral excesses are becoming problematic. The 2025 Africa Cup of Nations final left a bitter taste. What should have been a moment of celebration for continental football was marred by behaviors contrary to sporting ethics. Pressures on refereeing, excessive challenges, and game interruptions have become commonplace. When a coach manipulates a match's rhythm to influence a refereeing decision, it is no longer strategy but a challenge to the very foundations of the sport. Despite international outrage, the sanctions imposed on teams, clubs, or players involved remain often symbolic, insufficient to eradicate these behaviors. A very surprising phenomenon: rarely have clubs or federations clearly distanced themselves from such crowds. They accommodate them, and when they condemn them, it is half-heartedly, in a muffled, timid tone with no effect. The problem is twofold. On one hand, disciplinary regulations exist but lack firmness. On the other, their application suffers from a lack of consistency and political courage. Bodies like FIFA, continental confederations, and national federations hesitate to impose truly dissuasive sanctions such as point deductions, prolonged closed-door matches, competition exclusions, or even administrative relegations. Yet without fear of sanction, the rule loses all effectiveness. It suffices to compare with other sports to measure the gap. In rugby, for example, respect for the referee is a cardinal value. The slightest challenge is immediately sanctioned. In athletics, a false start leads to immediate disqualification, no discussion. Football, meanwhile, still tolerates too many behaviors that should be unacceptable. This permissiveness has a cost. It undermines football's image, discourages some families from attending stadiums, and endangers the safety of the game's actors. More gravely, it paves the way for future tragedies. History has already taught us, through catastrophes like the Heysel Stadium disaster, that violence in stadiums can have tragic consequences. It is therefore urgent to react. Regulating football does not mean killing its soul, but rather preserving it. It is not about extinguishing passions, but channeling them. This requires strong measures, exemplary sanctions against offending clubs and players, accountability for national federations, increased use of technology to identify troublemakers, and above all, a clear political will from national and international governing bodies. Football cannot continue to be this "market of emotion" left to its own devices. For by tolerating the intolerable, it risks losing what makes its greatness and its ability to unite rather than divide. If FIFA does not decide to act firmly, the danger is real: that of seeing football sink into a spiral where violence triumphs over the game, and where, one day, tragedies exceed the mere framework of sport. The long-awaited decision of the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS) in the 2025 AFCON final case should confirm rigor and integrity in the application of rules, at least at this level, thereby strengthening the credibility of the pan-African competition and football in general.

Eternal Morocco, Unbreakable Morocco: The Identity That Triumphs Over Exile... 10235

Aziz Daouda, 3 mon.

- Politics - History - Society -

2.1 min read.

There are affiliations that geography dissolves over time, and others that it strengthens as distance sets in. The Moroccan experience undoubtedly falls into the second category. Across generations, sometimes up to the third or fourth, a phenomenon intrigues. Women and men born far from Morocco continue to recognize themselves in it, to feel attached to it, to project themselves into it. They have left the country or never lived there long-term; they were born far away, but Morocco has never left them. How to explain such persistence? Why does this loyalty cut across social classes, faiths, degrees of religiosity, and even nationalities acquired elsewhere? How is a memory so indelible? How does it withstand the test of time, distance, and new cultural acquisitions, if not through the profound weight of national consciousness? Morocco is not merely a modern state born from 20th-century recompositions. It is an ancient historical construct, shaped by centuries, even millennia, of political and civilizational continuity. Dynasties like the Almoravids, Almohads, Merinids, Saadians, or Alaouites forged a stable political and symbolic space whose permanence transcends apparent ruptures. This historical depth irrigates the collective imagination. It gives Moroccans, including those in the diaspora, the sense of belonging to a history that precedes and surpasses them. Being Moroccan is not just a nationality. It is an inscription in a continuity, a composite identity forged by inclusion. Moroccan identity has been built through sedimentation. It is Amazigh, African, Arab, Andalusian, Hebraic. These are layers that coexist in a singular balance, complementing and interweaving without exclusion. This ancient plurality explains Moroccans' ability to embrace diversity without identity rupture. Thus, a Jewish Moroccan in Europe or a naturalized Muslim elsewhere often shares a common affective reference to Morocco, not out of ignorance of differences, but because they fit into a shared historical and geographical framework. This inclusive identity enables a rarity: remaining deeply Moroccan without renouncing other affiliations, with the monarchy serving as a symbolic thread. In this complex architecture, the monarchy plays a structuring role. Under Mohammed VI, it embodies historical continuity and contemporary stability. For Moroccans abroad, the link to the Throne goes beyond politics. It touches the symbolic and the affective, a dimension fully grasped only by Moroccans. It acts as a fixed point in a shifting world, offering permanence amid changes in language, environment, or citizenship. This transmission occurs invisibly in the family, in rituals. It is not a memory but living, sensitive memories. The diffusion and transfer also manifest in cuisines with ancestral recipes, in music and sounds, in living rooms echoing with Darija, through summers "back home," gestures, intonations, moussems, or hiloulas. Moroccan identity is transmitted less through discourse than through sensory experiences: tastes, smells, rhythms, hospitality. Thus, generations born abroad feel a belonging not formally learned, an active loyalty blending affection and claimed will. The diaspora does not settle for abstract attachment. It acts. Financial transfers, investments, public commitments, and defense of Moroccan positions internationally bear witness. This operational patriotism extends affection into action, a duty to the nation, a Moroccan loyalty. Moroccans may be exiles, but never uprooted. For the Moroccan diaspora, attachment transcends oceans. Even in political, economic, or academic roles abroad, Moroccains carry their country of origin explicitly or implicitly. The otherness of host societies reinforces this identity. The external gaze consolidates this sense of belonging to a culture so distinctive that it crystallizes, is claimed, and magnified. This phenomenon, intense among Moroccans, compels us to name what went without saying in the homeland: a continuity at a distance. Neither frozen nostalgia nor mere inheritance, this relationship is a profound dynamic. Morocco is not just a place; it is the bond that spans generations, adapts without diluting, reminding us that exile does not undo all affiliations. Morocco is in our daily lives, in a perennial, solid, and unyielding memory that defies borders and time.

AFCON 2025: The Trophy that Sets the Savannah Ablaze.. 9570

Aziz Daouda, 3 mon.

- Politics - Society - Sports -

2.4 min read.

There are moments when football stops being a game and becomes a brutal revealer of a continent's institutional and political fragilities. The current crisis surrounding the Africa Cup of Nations (AFCON) is the perfect illustration. Between the rigorous application of regulations, the credibility of the Confederation of African Football (CAF), media pressure, and reactions from the Senegalese Football Federation, the affair now extends far beyond sports into a much broader realm, intertwining law, sovereignty, and diplomacy. At its origin, a disciplinary decision that, under normal circumstances, would have been a simple sporting dispute. But the context, symbolism, and players involved have turned this file into a full-blown crisis. The CAF, as the regulatory body, faces a fundamental demand: to enforce its own rules without yielding to pressure. Any weakness in applying the law would open the door to widespread challenges to its authority, including revisiting past decisions and verdicts. In this sense, the decision taken, however contested, fits into a logic of institutional preservation. However, law, as essential as it is, cannot be entirely divorced from its political and emotional environment. Today's events provide perfect proof. The Senegalese side's reaction, perceived as an offense or challenge to the decision, reveals a deeper malaise: a sense of injustice, real or supposed, amplified by a public opinion whipped into a frenzy by a flood of increasingly belligerent statements and remarks. Social media, TV panels, and certain official discourses have turned a legal matter into a symbolic clash between nations. In response, the Royal Moroccan Football Federation remains silent, stoic, calm, and discreet. This is where the main danger lies. Beyond texts and procedures, it is historical relations, built over decades of solidarity and brotherhood, that are now exposed to unnecessary tension. African football, long presented as a vector of unity, risks here becoming a factor of division. And this drift, if not contained, could leave lasting scars. That's precisely what the occult forces, or not so occult, stoking the fire are aiming for. In this climate of escalation, the temptation is great for each side to harden its position. Yet, the history of sports conflicts shows that escalation is rarely a solution. It weakens institutions, undermines competition credibility, and, above all, distances the public from the essentials: fair and credible play. The central question then becomes: how far will this showdown go? A peaceful outcome necessarily requires a return to calm and reason. This does not mean renouncing one's rights or silencing disagreements, but framing them in a controlled manner. Appeal mechanisms exist, whether through direct sports jurisdictions or, if necessary, the international body that is the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS). Its role is precisely to settle such disputes with impartiality and rigor. Awaiting the verdict from this body, even if it is slow, means accepting that law takes precedence over emotion. It also means recognizing that the credibility of African football's components depends on their ability to resolve disputes in line with the rules they have set for themselves. Any other path, pressure, excessive politicization, or media confrontation, would only entrench and worsen the crisis. At its core, this affair raises an essential question about the governance model for African football. A model subject to power plays and momentary emotions, or one based on solid, respected institutions capable of enforcing the law, even when it stings? Ultimately, African football bodies didn't fall from the sky. They are the emanation of a democratic process in which Africa's 54 countries participate in good conscience. The answer to this question will determine not only the outcome of this crisis but also the future of football on the continent. Beyond the present case, the credibility of an entire sports architecture is at stake. In the immediate term, one thing is clear: the time for appeasement must follow that of confrontation and escalation. Preserving the essentials and consolidating fraternity among African peoples is worth far more than a sports victory, even an Africa Cup of Nations trophy. Alas, this is beyond those whose vision doesn't extend past the end of their nose. The CAS will speak soon. Then we'll see who is right or wrong under strict application of the law, with no further recourse possible except a return to reason. Wouldn't it be better, in the meantime, to keep a cool head, maintain lucidity, and calm down? A trophy is only raised when it is deserved—truly deserved.

Morocco: 113 kg thrown away per person, the imperative of an anti-food waste strategy... 10440

Aziz Daouda, 3 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.4 min read.

The latest opinion, prepared by the Economic, Social, and Environmental Council (CESE) as part of a self-referral, is titled “Food Loss and Waste in Morocco: Scale of the Phenomenon and Challenges for Effective Intervention.” It analyzes the causes of this phenomenon and its repercussions at the national level, while proposing levers to sustainably transform production, distribution, and consumption patterns. The goal is to align these changes with national priorities in terms of sustainability, food sovereignty, and security. This phenomenon is global, and its impacts continue to grow. In Morocco, its scale and specific effects deserve particular attention, which is why this opinion is highly important and should not remain a dead letter. It represents a genuine theme for the next electoral campaign, provided that political parties are capable of generating ideas in this direction. On a global scale, according to the United Nations Environment Programme, the food value chain recorded a loss of about 13.2% between harvest and retail sale in 2022. Waste at the household, restaurant, and retail levels then accounted for nearly 19% of total food production. The trend is similar in Morocco. According to the 2024 Food Waste Index, Moroccan households threw away around 2.4 million tons of food in 2022, or 113 kg per person per year, compared to 91 kg in 2021. Losses and waste occur at all stages of the food value chain. In the initial phases, production, harvest, storage, and transport, certain sectors, particularly fruits, vegetables, and cereals, record losses of 20 to 40%. At later stages, waste stems from commercial practices and inadequate behaviors: excessive purchases, lack of knowledge about preservation methods, and low valorization of unsold goods. This leads to high economic and social costs. These losses impose significant burdens on producers and distributors, reduce food availability, and heighten the vulnerability of low-income populations. They also put pressure on natural resources: the CESE estimates that 6.1 billion m³ of water is mobilized annually to produce food that will never be consumed. Food waste, moreover, pollutes and contributes to greenhouse gas emissions, underscoring the urgency of greater coordination. To date, institutional responses, where they exist, remain fragmented and ineffective. Despite some public and private initiatives, actions are scattered due to the lack of a specific legal framework, an integrated national vision, and effective governance. The CESE rightly considers reducing these losses and waste a major strategic challenge, to be placed at the heart of a national strategy for sustainable food. This would strengthen food sovereignty and security, preserve resources, rationalize imports and inputs, and promote a more equitable and resilient model in the face of crises. In this context, the Council recommends a specific action plan, integrable into the national strategy, with key recommendations: - Adopt a law against food loss and waste, prohibiting the destruction of unsold goods and facilitating donations to associations, social institutions, and food banks. - Clarify consumption dates: “to be consumed by” (health safety) and “best before” (quality). - Establish multisectoral governance involving public authorities, the private sector, and civil society. - Create a national observatory to collect data, produce indicators, and propose corrective measures. - Integrate waste reduction targets into public policies, particularly for catering in hospitals, schools, social centers, and prisons. - Develop storage and transport infrastructure, such as solar-powered refrigerated warehouses in agricultural regions. - Promote short supply chains to limit intermediaries and transport losses. - Encourage recycling of surpluses, such as solidarity fridges and food donations. The fight against food loss and waste goes beyond mere resource management: it is a lever for food security, agricultural efficiency, and environmental preservation. In a context of water scarcity, climate pressures, and growing needs, this battle is imperative for a sustainable and resilient Moroccan food system. Ultimately, it will effectively curb inflation and support the national economy. This strategy has every chance of succeeding, thanks to cultural and religious factors. Waste (isrâf or tabdhîr) is religiously prohibited as a sign of ingratitude toward divine blessings. The Quran states: “Eat and drink, but do not commit excess, for Allah does not love the wasteful,” Surah al-A‘râf. The use of goods is permitted, but excess is condemned. The scale of this phenomenon in Morocco makes it an urgent political issue, requiring effective and lasting action. It could be a true program for the next executive, if it becomes aware of it.

Paradoxical Ramadan: Piety, Irritability, Overconsumption and Slumping Productivity... 10270

Aziz Daouda, 3 mon.

- Society - Lifestyle - Philosophy -

3 min read.

Every year, Ramadan settles in Morocco as a form of collective breathing space. Daily rhythms change or are inverted, habits are reorganized or fall apart, nights come alive and days slow down. A sacred month par excellence, it is first and foremost a time of fasting, contemplation, piety and solidarity. But it is also, increasingly, a national paradox: intense spiritual fervor coexists with heightened social irritability, massive food waste and a noticeable drop in productivity. Ramadan, as it is prescribed and recommended, is a time of inner discipline. Fasting is not just abstaining from food; it is self‑control, restraint, patience. Religious scholars and schoolteachers insist on the moral dimension of fasting: refraining from anger, insults and injustice. In short, putting aside all forms of deceitfulness. Yet in contemporary Moroccan reality, the holy month sometimes seems to produce the opposite effect. It becomes the month of unjustified social tension. In large cities such as Casablanca, Rabat or Marrakech, if the mornings are relatively calm, late afternoon turns into a critical moment. Traffic is saturated, impatience is palpable, and road altercations become more frequent. Emergency services and police stations traditionally observe an increase in minor conflicts and aggressive behavior at the end of the day. There is also a rise in cases handled by gastro‑enterology and other specialties… People eat too much, and poorly. Fasting, combined with lack of sleep due to long evenings after iftar and waking up for suhoor, among other things, affects physiological balance. Irritability, reduced concentration and chronic fatigue become commonplace. In a country where emotional regulation is already under strain in everyday life, Ramadan acts as an amplifier. This nervousness is by no means a religious inevitability; it is a sociological consequence of how the month is organized, in a way that has gradually drifted away from its original spirit of moderation, self‑mastery and day‑and‑night contemplation. The immediate consequence is a slump in productivity. On the economic front, the impact is tangible. Administrative working hours are reduced, offices empty out in the afternoon without valid reasons, and construction sites run in slow motion. In some sectors, the drop in activity is accepted; in others, it causes structural delays. Ramadan excuses and explains everything. People shift the burden of their disengagement onto the community without the slightest embarrassment. Morocco aspires to accelerate its growth, attract investment and improve its competitiveness. Yet for nearly one month every year, the economy runs in degraded mode. The private sector adapts, but at what cost? The drop in productivity is not only quantitative; it is also qualitative: decisions are postponed, meetings cut short, projects delayed. The public administration and its staff amplify all this. It would be caricatural to place the blame on religion. The problem is not Ramadan; it is the absence of a culture of performance that is compatible with spiritual requirements. Output and accountability ought to be part of the values of the holy month. Another major contradiction is the paradox of food waste. While fasting is supposed to remind us of the hunger of the poorest, iftar tables are overloaded. Multiple soups, an abundance of pastries, redundant dishes. Markets are booming, food spending rises sharply, and a significant part of what is bought ends up in the trash. Wallets empty out and suffer. This phenomenon reveals a cultural transformation that may be surprising: Ramadan has partly become a social and consumerist event. Large retailers post their best figures, advertising intensifies, and TV channels compete with special programming to capture a deliberately captive nocturnal audience. At the start of the month, national channels record more than 70% of total viewership, a share they are far from reaching under normal circumstances, as Moroccans are very fond of foreign channels. The month of frugality paradoxically turns into a month of overconsumption. One can then ask: is this authentic spirituality, or a social ritualization? It would be unfair to reduce Moroccan Ramadan to its excesses. Thousands of solidarity initiatives emerge. Associations, mosques and volunteers distribute meals and aid to the most vulnerable. Families come together, intergenerational ties are strengthened. The mosque regains a vibrant centrality. The issue, therefore, is not to criticize Ramadan, but to question its contemporary practice. Are we faithful to its spirit, or prisoners of cultural habits that distort its meaning? If the holy month becomes synonymous with chronic fatigue, road rage, weakened productivity and waste, then there is a gap between the spiritual principle and its social translation. It is certainly time to advocate for a Ramadan of responsibility. A calm national debate is needed: how can we reconcile spiritual requirements with collective performance? How can we preserve the sacredness of the month while maintaining the efficiency of institutions? How can we turn fasting into a lever for self‑discipline rather than a pretext for slackness? Ramadan could be a laboratory for positive transformation: learning self‑control, optimizing time, rationalizing consumption, structuring solidarity. It could become a month of moral and professional excellence. Morocco, a country of deep religious tradition and clear economic ambition, has every interest in taking up this challenge. Because beyond productivity statistics or scenes of urban irritation, the real question is this: are we turning Ramadan into a simple collective ritual, or into a genuine exercise in inner and social reform? The answer, each year, is played out in the streets, offices and homes, and above all in each person’s conscience. We have a little less than two weeks left to think about it… seriously.

Walid Regragui: A Demonstration of Moroccan Competence... 11398

Aziz Daouda, 4 mon.

- History - Society - Sports -

2.7 min read.

Sometimes, we witness a rare moment when a man, a team, and a nation converge to write a page of history. They leave a lasting mark on collective memory and redefine our perception of our own capabilities. Having been both a participant and observer, I am perhaps better positioned than others to gauge its significance and depth. The Moroccan national team's epic at the Qatar World Cup undoubtedly belongs to this category. And at its heart stands one man: Walid Regragui. When he was appointed Morocco's head coach in August 2022, just three months before the World Cup, the national team's situation was uncertain. The previous coach had bluntly stated: "You don't have a team for the World Cup." The atmosphere around the squad was tense, with questions about group cohesion and doubts over its ability to compete with football's giants. Many thought we'd make a quick trip to Doha and head home. In just a few weeks, Regragui achieved what few coaches accomplish in years: rebuilding a cohesive unit, restoring confidence, and giving the national team a clear identity it had never had before. The results exceeded all expectations. The man appointed somewhat by default, somewhat by chance, simply stunned the world. At that World Cup, Morocco made history. The Atlas Lions topped their group ahead of Croatia and Belgium. In the round of 16, they eliminated Spain after an intense tactical battle decided on penalties. In the quarterfinals, they beat Portugal, and how! A tactical masterclass for Regragui and his squad. They became the first African nation to reach the semifinals. We couldn't even have dreamed it. This performance cemented Morocco's place in world football history. Such heights aren't reached by chance. It takes profound depth. This marked the start of a series of achievements, vindicating a royal vision launched when the Sovereign inaugurated the Mohammed VI Football Academy. But beyond the historic fourth-place finish, the epic's impact was immense. It transformed the international image of Moroccan football. Above all, it sparked a huge wave of pride across Morocco, Africa, and the Arab world. This success wasn't just sporting; it was deeply symbolic. Walid Regragui's journey first illustrates the rise of Moroccan talent. A former international who wore Morocco's colors for over a decade, he built a solid coaching career. His continental triumph with Wydad Athletic Club in the 2022 CAF Champions League was a major milestone. His contribution went beyond trophies. Regragui imposed a clear vision of play and human management. In a squad of players from Europe's top leagues: Spain, France, England, Italy, he forged remarkable unity with unyielding attacking power. He also leveraged the dual culture of many Moroccan internationals, turning diversity into collective strength. Tactically, his team stood out with rigorous defensive organization. Under his leadership, Morocco became one of the world's stingiest defenses, conceding few goals against the most fearsome attacks. But what truly impressed observers was the human dimension of his leadership. Regragui forged a direct bond between the national team and its public. Through simple, sincere, often emotional communication, he made fans feel the team truly belonged to them—to the point where public "interventionism" grew intrusive toward the end, irritating and hurting him. In a country where trust in national talent has often been debated, the Regragui experience is a shining demonstration. It proves Moroccan competence exists, can handle the biggest challenges, and excels at the highest level when trust is in place. In this sense, the 2022 epic transcends football. It bolstered collective confidence in our abilities. It reminded us Morocco can produce talent, not just players, but coaches, leaders, and sports executives. The Moroccan coaches trusted by the federation all overperformed. Morocco became a football powerhouse thanks to Sektoui, Amouta, Sellami, Baha, Dguig, Chiba, and of course, Mohamed Ouahbi. For those of us who devoted our lives to building national sport, this message is vital. Sports development isn't just about infrastructure, budgets, or competitions. It hinges, perhaps above all, on trusting our own competence. In months, Walid Regragui embodied that trust. He showed a Moroccan coach could lead at the world stage, face football's elite, and make history in the planet's most prestigious tournament. For all these reasons, his work deserves recognition and respect, just like that of the coaches who, alongside me, elevated Morocco to the top of world athletics rankings: Kada, Ouajou, Ayachi, Boutayeb, Sahere, Bouihiri, and others. Beyond results and stats, Regragui will be remembered as the man who made millions of Moroccans believe, during that World Cup and beyond, that anything was possible. In sport as in nations' lives, such moments are precious. They remind us collective success often starts with a simple conviction: belief in ourselves. For what he brought to Moroccan football, the image he gave our country, and the inspiration for future coaches and sports leaders, it's only right to say today, sincerely and gratefully: Thank you, Walid. I had the privilege of handing him his first "Best Coach of the Year" trophy. He had just won the title with FUS.

Floods in Morocco: An Emergency Mastered, Lessons to Be Learned... 11320

Aziz Daouda, 4 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.5 min read.

The recent floods in Morocco have once again tested the resilience of the state and society. Faced with the sudden rise of waters, the authorities' response was remarkably comprehensive: over 180,000 citizens were quickly evacuated from at-risk areas, transported to safe locations, housed, fed, and provided medical care under conditions that earned admiration beyond our borders. In Ksar El Kébir, as in many surrounding douars and hamlets in neighboring provinces, residents have now returned home. During their absence, their homes and belongings were very well secured. This emergency phase, marked by the mobilization of security forces, civil protection, and local authorities, demonstrated that when it comes to protecting human lives, the Moroccan state knows how to act with great efficiency, remarkable speed, and unwavering humanism. Few countries in the world can rival the Kingdom in managing disasters. Now, with the emotion subsided and populations back home, it's time for assessments and accountability. The emergency was perfectly managed; the time for pinpointing responsibilities has arrived. No one can defy nature. That's a given. Extreme weather phenomena, set to multiply due to climate change, now strike with unpredictable intensity. Floods, flash floods, road or bridge collapses are not unique to Morocco. They affect the most developed countries, with the most sophisticated infrastructure. However, a legitimate question arises: do all the observed destruction stem solely from the force of nature? When recently built roads give way, when engineering structures collapse after just a few years or even months of use, when drainage systems prove manifestly undersized, it becomes essential to question the quality of technical studies, the rigor of specifications, site inspections, and the compliance of materials used. Incompetence on the part of some, shoddy work by others, or corruption by certain individuals, these three hypotheses must be examined without taboo. Technical studies may well be insufficient or outdated. Climate data has evolved. If infrastructure is designed based on old models, it becomes inherently vulnerable. Yesterday's "exceptional" floods may be tomorrow's normal ones. Sometimes, it's poor workmanship in project execution that causes problems. A bridge, a dam, or a road doesn't fail solely under water pressure; it also fails when standards are not respected, inspections are lax, or technical oversight is deficient. We cannot dismiss outright possible malfeasance and corrupt practices. This is the gravest hypothesis. When public budgets are allocated to infrastructure meant to open up areas, streamline communications, or protect populations, every dirham diverted becomes a factor of vulnerability. In a country with limited resources, squandering public funds is not just a moral failing; it becomes a direct threat to citizens' safety. Transparent investigations are therefore essential. This is not about fueling widespread suspicion or casting blame on all public or private actors. The recent mobilization proves the opposite: the state apparatus is capable of excellence and fully committing to effectively resolve grave problems. But it is precisely to preserve this credibility that serious, independent, and transparent investigations must be conducted on the damaged infrastructure. There is no doubt the administration will identify structures that degraded abnormally quickly; examine tender processes; and verify compliance with prevailing standards. It remains crucial to ensure the publication of findings and, where applicable, to sanction faults if identified and responsibilities clearly assigned. Impunity would send a disastrous message. Conversely, accountability would strengthen citizens' trust in institutions, and God knows we need it in these times. For the future, better to prevent than to cure. Floods will always happen; material damage too. But what is unacceptable is infrastructure supposed to withstand predictable floods from certain wadis collapsing due to negligence or greed. Every dirham invested in prevention must yield maximum security. In a constrained budget context, the efficiency of public spending becomes a strategic imperative. Investing in durable infrastructure, thoroughly studied, adapted to new climate realities, rigorously controlled, and shielded from corruption, is less costly than endless reconstruction after each disaster. This is a full collective responsibility. The flood episode, like the previous earthquakes in Al Hoceïma and the Haouz, showcased the best of Morocco: solidarity, mobilization, operational efficiency. The challenge now is to draw structural lessons in rigor. Protecting citizens doesn't stop at emergency evacuation. It begins much earlier—in engineering offices, tender committees, control labs, and the traceability and oversight of public contracts. The true tribute to the 180,000 evacuated citizens is not just praising their resilience, but ensuring rebuilt infrastructure meets the highest standards. Nature is powerful, but negligence and corruption are catastrophes we can—and must—prevent. One thing is already certain: no more building in flood-prone areas.

Le Monde and Morocco: Old Grudges and Media Neocolonialism from a Parisian Prosecutor... 11870

Aziz Daouda, 4 mon.

- World Politics - Politics - Society -

3.2 min read.

A certain Alexandre Aublanc recently penned a long article in Le Monde, the Parisian newspaper, with the evocative title: "Mohammed VI's Unfulfilled Democratic Promises." Nothing less. The tone is set: that of the self-proclaimed prosecutor, handing out good and bad marks to a sovereign state, as if the Moroccan monarchy had personally sworn an oath to him or the valiant Moroccan people had requested an audit from him. Pretentious and ridiculous. This exercise is nothing new. For decades, a segment of the French press, particularly the Parisian variety and especially this one, has maintained an ambiguous relationship with the Kingdom: fascination, condescension, and resentment. The impression is one of mourning a lost eldorado where everyone would have loved to live, but under a republic, probably the French kind. Indeed, the country is beautiful, the people welcoming, but they want neither a republic nor France. It's good living in Marrakech or strolling through the streets and fine avenues of Rabat, perfectly under a monarchy. For over 360 years, Moroccans have been attached to the world's oldest reigning dynasty. They love their King and the royal family, and this affection is perfectly and singularly reciprocal. It's a deliberate choice, and no one from abroad has the right to question it. Already under Hassan II, the Kingdom was regularly portrayed as the "troublesome pupil" of Western democracy, which they were desperate to impose on it. Today, it's Mohammed VI's turn to be summoned to account not to his people, but to a certain nostalgic Parisian intelligentsia. The posture here is neocolonial, barely veiled. One must recall a historical fact: the French protectorate ended in 1956. Morocco is no longer under tutelage, neither political nor moral. The recent years, before President Macron's visit to Rabat, are perfect proof for those who might have forgotten. The idea that a French editorialist could position himself as the guarantor of a foreign sovereign's "democratic promises" reeks of nostalgia for influence. That's called interference, and interference is unacceptable, as Jean-Noël Barrot was pleased to remind the Americans. He was beside himself: a close ally of President Trump had dared to comment on the murder of Quentin Deranque by far-left militants. Rest assured, this doesn't concern Moroccans. French affairs are for the French. Emmanuel Macron, for his part, will launch "To each his own, and the sheep will be well guarded"; France had just been criticized by Giorgia Meloni over the same affair. Charles de Gaulle, in founding the Fifth Republic amid decolonization, had sealed the end of an era. Yet some media discourses, particularly those in Le Monde, seem not to have fully freed themselves from this inherited moral verticality. It was the General himself who created Le Monde, need we remind you. It's not criticism that's the problem. It's legitimate. What raises questions is the lens: a partial, decontextualized reading that deliberately ignores the extraordinary institutional, social, and economic developments Morocco has experienced since 1999. A host of facts and achievements, simply extraordinary in the region under Mohammed VI's reign, are conveniently omitted: The 2011 constitutional reform, adopted by referendum, strengthening the head of government's powers and enshrining fundamental freedoms and rights. The establishment of governance and regulatory bodies: National Human Rights Council, National Integrity Authority, etc. An ambitious infrastructure policy. Unique social development indicators in the region. A structured African strategy, cemented by Morocco's return to the African Union in 2017. Nothing is perfect, no one claims otherwise. Morocco is a country in transformation, facing complex social, economic, and geopolitical challenges. But reducing 25 years of reforms to a curt formula of "unfulfilled promises" is more pamphlet than analysis. Let's call it folly. It's always delicate to hand out democracy certificates from a country itself racked by major social tensions: crisis after crisis, record distrust of institutions, rise of extremes, controversies over police violence or freedom of expression, unpopularity of institutions and leaders. Democracy isn't a patent one awards to others. It's a process, imperfect everywhere—and certainly in France. But here, regarding this article, it's just another manifestation of a recurrent Moroccan obsession. Le Monde, since its creation, has maintained a particular relationship with the Moroccan monarchy. Hassan II was long a central figure, often described with a mix of fascination and gratuitous severity. Today, the target changes, but the tone remains. The repetition of these attacks sometimes gives the impression of a frozen interpretive grid: Morocco is eternally summoned to "catch up" to a standard defined elsewhere, precisely in Paris, without acknowledging its own historical and institutional path. The author and his ilk are truly unaware of their own decadent system, the drift of their "democracy," yet still seek to export it. The line between legitimate criticism and ridiculous caricature is razor-thin. What shocks about the article in question isn't the existence of a debate on Moroccan governance. That's healthy. What raises questions is the accumulation of approximations, omissions, and shortcuts that end up sketching a tasteless caricature. Morocco is neither a frozen dictatorship nor a Scandinavian democracy, nor will it ever be. Morocco has its own personality, and its people don't want to resemble anyone, not even France or the French. It's a country in mutation, with its traditions, contradictions, advances, and delays. But it belongs first to Moroccans to debate it, judge it, and decide it. By insisting on speaking "in the name of" the Kingdom's democratic promises, certain editorialists mostly give the impression of speaking for Moroccans. And in 2026, that sounds singularly dated. Francophone Moroccan readers, for their part, read, compare, analyze, and often smile at these lessons dispensed from afar. Not out of blindness, but because they know a country's reality can never be reduced to the columns, however prestigious, of a Parisian daily. As for Mr. Aublanc, he'll have to learn to sweep in front of his own door before looking elsewhere. French-style democracy is hardly an ideal on this side of the Mediterranean.

Ramadan: When Morocco Gets Moving Between Devotion and Caution.. 11803

Aziz Daouda, 4 mon.

- Society - Lifestyle -

2.1 min read.

Every year, at the start of the holy month, a discreet but massive phenomenon transforms the streets of Moroccan cities. In Rabat, Casablanca, Marrakech, Tangier, or Fez, the corniches, parks, and local pitches fill up as iftar approaches. Clusters of walkers flood the boulevards, groups improvise soccer matches, gyms are packed, and beaches are overrun. The paradox is striking: while fasting imposes abstinence from food and drink from sunrise to sunset, physical activity surges dramatically. For many, Ramadan becomes a month of getting back in shape. People seek the benefits of aligning body and mind with natural discipline. Fasting structures the day, fixed schedules, visible excesses. This discipline fosters commitment to a sports routine. Many use this regularity to build habits that elude them the rest of the year. Indeed, physical exercise enables metabolic improvements, provided it is practiced moderately during fasting, by stimulating: - fat oxidation; - insulin sensitivity; - weight regulation; - reduction of oxidative stress. Walking 45 minutes before iftar or doing a light workout 1 to 2 hours after can promote better fat mass management and limit the weight gain often linked to lavish evening meals. Many people pack on pounds during Ramadan. Cardiovascular benefits are also significant. Brisk walking, light jogging, or cycling improve heart health, lower blood pressure, and boost endurance. Ramadan thus becomes an ideal time to introduce sedentary people to exercise and psychological and physiological well-being. Physical activity and sports during Ramadan also act as emotional regulators: - reduction of irritability from deprivation; - improved sleep quality; - sense of accomplishment; - social cohesion: neighborhood matches, group walks. In a month marked by spirituality, physical effort becomes an extension of moral striving. However, potential risks cannot be ignored, as the body has its limits. Crossing them can be seriously harmful. The sports fervor is not without danger, especially when improvised, poorly controlled, or excessive. The main risk remains water loss. Severe dehydration is never far off. Running in late afternoon under spring sun, without drinking, can cause: - dizziness; - hypotension; - muscle cramps; - concentration issues; - even fainting. Those pushing beyond a certain intensity are particularly prone to hypoglycemia. Intense effort while fasting can trigger a sharp drop in blood sugar, leading to: - tremors; - cold sweats; - blurred vision; - extreme fatigue. Diabetics or prediabetics, in particular, must exercise extra caution. There are also many risks of muscle injuries. Dehydration reduces muscle elasticity. Many dive into explosive soccer matches or intense weight sessions without gradual preparation. Result: strains, tears, ligament ruptures, lower back pain. Overloading the heart is another major risk if you ignore your body's signals. For the untrained or those with undiagnosed cardiovascular issues, intense fasting effort can be dangerous, even fatal. Thus, golden rules must be followed for a healthy sports-focused Ramadan, to maximize benefits and minimize risks: - Prioritize moderate intensity: brisk walking, light jogging, gentle strengthening. - Choose the right timing: 30 to 60 minutes before iftar, to rehydrate quickly; or 1 to 2 hours after iftar. - Strategic hydration between iftar and suhoor: sip water steadily, avoiding excess caffeine. - Balanced nutrition: proteins, fibers, complex carbs. - Listen to warning signs: dizziness, palpitations, unusual weakness. Beyond health, this activity surge reveals an intriguing reality—a sociological phenomenon: Ramadan acts as a collective catalyst. It creates an atmosphere conducive to behavior change. Where the rest of the year brings dispersion, the holy month provides structure, purpose, and motivation. Friendships and interest groups come alive again. The central question remains: why doesn't this momentum last after Ramadan? Perhaps because, more than a simple month of fasting, Ramadan is an accelerator of intention. It pushes everyone to become a better version of themselves, spiritually and physically. The challenge now is to transform this seasonal energy into a permanent culture of movement, physical exercise, and sports. If the body can fast, it must never stop moving, and thus living.

The Double Health-Demography Shock Threatening Morocco: It's Time to Act 12469

Aziz Daouda, 4 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

3.1 min read.

The physical and mental health status of Moroccans, combined with an accelerated demographic transition, outlines a worrying trajectory for the Kingdom's future economic, social, and strategic outlook. These issues should become the core of political programs and electoral debates, well ahead of short-term promises on employment, infrastructure, or any other generic or hollow topics. Today, nearly 59% of Moroccan adults have a body mass index in the overweight category, and 24% are already obese, almost one in four adults. In other words, the majority of the adult population lives with excess weight that could very well pave the way for an explosion of chronic diseases: diabetes, cardiovascular illnesses, cancers, all within a healthcare system already under strain. This reality mechanically translates into a continuous rise in medical expenses, a multiplication of sick leaves, and a decline in national productivity in sectors that rely on workers' physical strength and good health. To this bodily fragility is added a silent crisis in mental health: 48.9% of Moroccans aged 15 and over have experienced, are experiencing, or will experience symptoms of mental disorders, according to national surveys relayed by the Economic, Social, and Environmental Council. Depression, anxiety disorders, psychotic disorders, and suicidal behaviors now affect one in two Moroccans, in a context where specialized facilities are scarce, professionals insufficient, and stigma omnipresent. This massive psychological distress reduces learning, concentration, and innovation capacities, while undermining social cohesion by fueling addictions, violence, and withdrawal. Added to this are statistically high rates of drug and alcohol consumption. This is no longer a taboo, but a genuine topic for societal discussion and a ticking time bomb to which the country risks exposure if nothing is done to reverse the trends. Meanwhile, demography, long a strategic asset for the country, is turning into a source of vulnerability: the fertility rate has fallen to 1.97 children per woman in 2024, below the generational renewal threshold of 2.1. Over five decades, Morocco has gone from 7.2 children per woman in the 1960s to under 2 today, joining countries facing accelerated aging. In fact, nothing exceptional: this is precisely the case in all developed societies. Morocco is in full development. The proportion of youth under 15 is starting to decline, and by 2040, their number should drop from 9.76 million to 7.8 million, while older people will occupy a growing place in the age pyramid, bringing with it challenges for social coverage and pension funding. Thus, the country is heading toward a triple shock: an adult population where 59% are overweight and 24% obese, thus vulnerable to chronic diseases; a society where nearly one in two inhabitants has been or could be affected by a mental disorder; and a demography that no longer renews its generations, with a fertility rate of 1.97 signaling rapid aging. A Morocco that is less numerous, less physically robust, and more psychologically fragile will, tomorrow, face greater difficulties in producing, innovating, funding its social protection, and even ensuring its defense capabilities. If these figures do not become the foundation of party programs and thus future governments, the country will wake up in less than twenty years with a dramatic shortage of skilled labor, an army of poorly cared-for retirees, and public finances suffocated by the cumulative cost of obesity, associated diseases, and mental disorders. Political debates must stop relegating these issues to the rank of "technical files" and instead embrace them as the matrix of all economic, educational, social, and security policies. This requires an ambitious national prevention strategy: nutritional education from school onward, reduction in the supply of ultra-processed products, surtaxation of sugar-based products and sugar itself, promotion of physical activity in cities and countryside alike, early management of mental disorders in workplaces and schools, and massive development of nearby psychiatry and psychology services. Every dirham invested in body and mind health will save tens of dirhams tomorrow in hospitalizations, disabilities, lost production, and social tensions. But even a healthier Morocco will face an implacable arithmetic equation: with fertility below the replacement level, the reservoir of labor and vital productive forces will shrink progressively. The country will thus not have the luxury of letting its expensively trained talents leave or depriving itself of selected immigration, particularly student immigration. A policy to attract new immigrants, especially African, Arab, and other students, must be designed as a structuring axis of the population strategy: simplification of residency procedures, integration into the labor market, recognition of diplomas, social support. In parallel, Morocco must offer attractive return conditions to its own students trained abroad: qualified jobs, career prospects, research environments, decent remuneration, and institutional stability, to turn academic mobility into a national return on investment rather than permanent exodus. The significant remittances from Moroccans abroad are essential, but keeping these same people in Morocco would be even more productive. Billions of dirhams are invested each year in training thousands of young people who, once graduated, leave the country to contribute to other economies' wealth—even in the key and strained health sector. 700 doctors leave the country annually for several years now, while our needs are enormous. As long as obesity, mental health, demography, and brain drain remain treated as peripheral issues, Morocco risks moving backward while appearing modernized on the surface but weakened from within. It is still time to make health and human capital the compass of all public policy; tomorrow, it will be a race against the clock whose stakes we will no longer control, let alone its outcomes. This is what should form the basis of party programs and debates during the electoral campaign, which has in fact already begun in a subdued way.

Ramadan in Morocco: The Holy Month in the Mirror of Our Excesses... 11858

Aziz Daouda, 4 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.3 min read.

As Ramadan is here, Morocco shifts its rhythm and clock. Streets slow down by day and light up at night. Mosques fill up, hearts tighten around the essentials: faith, patience, solidarity, piety. *On paper, Ramadan is a month of restraint, piety, and self-focus. In economic reality, it paradoxically becomes a month of excess and waste. In fact, one must conclude with the paradox of the Moroccan table.* A few hours before iftar, markets burst with activity. Bags overflow. Baskets grow heavy. Bills do too. According to data from the High Commission for Planning, food already accounts for the largest share of Moroccan household budgets, especially for modest classes. **During Ramadan, food spending rises sharply, sometimes significantly, per consumption surveys, due to concentrated purchases over a short period and social pressure around the iftar table. Social pressure, but also pressure from the media, particularly television.Citizens are bombarded with messages promoting consumption as a marker of social success.** This translates to an 18% increase in spending. That's no small thing. It also means a sharp rise in demand for food products, not always necessities, putting upward pressure on prices. Yet, a non-negligible portion of this food sadly ends up in the trash. Levels can be alarming. Dumpsters overflow with prepared foods, cakes, pastries, bread, and other flour, butter and sugar based preparations. **According to a FAO study, this waste can reach nearly 85%.** In other words, a citizen spending 1,000 dirhams on food staples throws away the equivalent of 850 dirhams as waste. Astonishing. *Food waste in Morocco is structural, as highlighted by several FAO-backed studies. Ramadan amplifies it through multiplied dishes, domestic overproduction, impulse buys, and abundance seen as synonymous with hospitality and well-being.* The paradox is cruel: at the very moment spirituality calls for moderation, society settles into a display of abundance, in response to a silent social pressure. *Waste isn't just an economic issue. It's become cultural. Overall, a Moroccan citizen throws away about 132 kg of food per year, per a UNEP study. The FAO says 91 kg. Ramadan contributes significantly.* **The ftour or Iftar table has become a space of social representation. Failing to multiply dishes is sometimes seen as a lack of generosity, even stinginess. Chebakia, briouates, harira, multiple juices: the implicit norm demands variety. People put on airs. Ramadan's founding values take a serious hit. Sobriety is forgotten.** This pressure weighs even more on modest households, as recent years' food inflation has eroded purchasing power. When budgets are tight eleven months out of twelve, Ramadan becomes a month of disproportionate financial strain. The holy month turns into a tough budgetary equation. The media have crafted a "Ramadan spectacle." At nightfall, a near-generalized ritual begins: television. National channels concentrate their prime programming around the post-iftar slot. Light series, repetitive sitcoms, hidden cameras, family-oriented telefilms. All backed by unprecedented advertising bombardment. Ramadan has become peak advertising season. Food ads multiply, processed products invade screens, and commercial logic overshadows educational or cultural missions. The month of spirituality becomes an audience battle. Television doesn't create overconsumption alone, but it accompanies it, normalizes it, and sometimes celebrates it. Spirituality is thus put to the test. Ramadan is meant to teach hunger to better understand those who suffer from lack. Yet the contrast is striking: while some families struggle to provide essentials, others throw away surpluses. This contradiction raises questions about the responsibility of public authorities and media figures. Morocco isn't alone. In several Muslim countries, international organizations warn annually about the waste peak during the holy month. It's a recurring issue in regional public policies. But beyond the numbers, the question is moral: how to reconcile fasting and excess? How to preach restraint while practicing abundance? How to refocus the holy month? The solution isn't guilt-tripping or punitive. It's cultural. The duty today is to: - Rehabilitate simplicity in religious discourse. - Value modest tables as a sign of awareness, not poverty. - Encourage food redistribution initiatives. - Rebalance audiovisual programming with more educational, social, and spiritual content. Ramadan doesn't need to be spectacular to be intense. It doesn't need to be costly to be noble. It doesn't need to be abundant to be generous. Ultimately, the question isn't just economic. It's existential: Do we want to *live* Ramadan... or *consume* it? **Waste is unacceptable. Religion explicitly condemns it.**

Patrice Motsepe: A CAF Presidency Undermined by Opacity and Conflicts of Interest... 11396

Aziz Daouda, 4 mon.

- World Politics - Society - Sports -

3 min read.

Elected in March 2021 to head the Confederation of African Football (CAF) during the General Assembly held in Rabat, Morocco, or should we remind you?, South African billionaire Patrice Motsepe promised a radical break from a past riddled with scandals and mismanagement. Absolute transparency, financial rigor, modernization of practices: these were the hallmarks of his campaign. Four years later, those commitments ring hollow. The institution languishes between smooth reform rhetoric and glaring opacities, amid internal tensions, refereeing controversies, and recurring suspicions of collusion between power and personal interests. The businessman's profile lies at the heart of a blatant conflict of interest. Owner of the South African club Mamelodi Sundowns, which he has entrusted to his son with FIFA's approval, Motsepe embodies the image of a thriving "corporate" manager, backed by colossal financial capital and international connections. But this profile reveals a major flaw: the virtually nonexistent boundary between his CAF presidency and his private interests. The CAF oversees the awarding of Africa Cup of Nations (AFCON) tournaments, interclub competitions, and World Cup qualifiers, wielding immense power over Africa's 54 federations. Motsepe thus navigates an ecosystem where every decision can favor his economic alliances or his club. This porosity fuels doubts: does he primarily serve African football, or is he consolidating a network of opaque personal influences for his business gain? The CAF is no ordinary administrative body. It generates hundreds of millions of viewers per AFCON, negotiating with governments, broadcasters, and sponsors. Yet under Motsepe, sports diplomacy remains a minefield of murky alliances, where decisions seem dictated by political balances and criteria tied to the president himself. His style increasingly relies on governance by ambiguity, masking inaction with a "strategy of permanent consensus." Structural decisions are endlessly deferred; signals of listening, profuse compliments, and radiant smiles everywhere conceal deliberate indifference. Federations, zonal unions, partners, and politicians struggle to grasp the man or discern any genuine policy for development and fairness. The result: chronic inability to decide. Refereeing controversies, organizational disputes, and contested awards pile up without public clarifications. Commissions are seized, reports announced... but nothing concrete or educational emerges. This technico-political dilution perpetuates opacity, shielding the presidency from direct accountability. In short, a facade of democracy and a dilution of reckoning. On paper, the Executive Committee, specialized commissions, and statutory votes promise modern governance. In practice, these bodies serve as a smokescreen. By referring sensitive files to commissions, Motsepe positions himself "above the fray," invoking "collective responsibility" to dodge criticism. His goal: emerge unscathed from every scandal or misstep, and there are many. No one is identifiable, no one is held accountable. Such a culture of impunity is incompatible with a serious sports institution, especially when the president combines private business with executive power. He keeps both the cabbage and the goat safe. Since 2021, fragilities have exploded: administrative tensions, complaints against executives, internal probes into mismanagement. The case of Secretary General Véron Mosengo-Omba, involving a Swiss investigation and internal audits, exemplifies this amateurism. The CAF touts a compliance department and "zero tolerance," but responses remain minimal: laconic press releases, no detailed public reports. No catharsis, no acknowledgment of flaws, no lessons learned or imposed reforms. Suspicions persist, fueled by presumed ties between the presidency and economic interests. This scandal highlights enduring opacities, where crises are handled in a closed circle, stoking doubts about governance and equity. Administratively, the CAF survives: competitions launched, sponsors reassured. But on the ground, the fiasco is evident. Vague rules, non-independent refereeing: these ills breed resentment among aggrieved federations, furious clubs, and disillusioned fans. The latest statement from the head of refereeing perfectly illustrates the situation following the scandal of the last AFCON final. This structural instability undermines the commercial and sporting credibility of continental football. The facade of balance conceals real frustrations; leadership is seen everywhere as complicit in the regrettable status quo. Motsepe has the network and influence to reform. Instead, his obsession with compromise preserves balances at the expense of the rupture promised in Rabat in March 2021: codifying transparency, publishing decisions, strictly framing conflicts of interest, starting with his own. By placating all sides, he satisfies none, nurturing toxic distrust. A deliberate behavior. In globalized football, where trust equals revenue, this drifting presidency risks costing Africa dearly. *Let's connect this to what happened in Morocco. The Kingdom promises grand things to Africa and delivers. It is rewarded in the worst way: its party is ruined, with no respect for the country, its efforts, or football itself. A pitiful image of African football circles the world. The responsible person, the one who must decide, remains indifferent as usual in such situations.* What does Motsepe do? He expresses discontent and promises reforms. More hollow promises. Has he truly kept a single one since 2021? Here too, he keeps the cabbage and the goat: business oblige, he sympathizes with Morocco, and everyone knows why, but says nothing about what must be done. He sails in his obsessive neutrality. He has still managed to disgust Moroccan citizens—and not only them. Many now demand turning their backs on the CAF. **A majority protests no longer want the Women's AFCON in Morocco or other competitions on national soil. Motsepe's response: the Women's AFCON will take place as scheduled. Some read this as a threat...** Moroccans are kind, welcoming, generous, *but above all not naive.* They are fed up with the man's and his institution's hypocrisy, and demand justice. He responds half-heartedly: "Go to the CAS if you want justice..." The lack of courage is blatant. The CAF under Motsepe is adrift.

Where Have Our Ministers Gone? When the Operational State Fills in for a Silent Government... 10792

Aziz Daouda, 4 mon.

- Politics - Society -

2.5 min read.

The recent floods provided a striking demonstration of the effectiveness of Morocco's security and territorial apparatus. On the high instructions of His Majesty King Mohammed VI, agents from the Ministry of the Interior, elements of the Royal Armed Forces, and various intervention forces mobilized impressive human and logistical resources in just a few hours. Nearly 180,000 people were evacuated, transported, and relocated from disaster-stricken areas with a speed that commanded admiration, including abroad. In Portugal, for example, where some observers praised Morocco's promptness, deputies heatedly questioned the government over its handling of the country's own floods, urging it to take a leaf out of the Moroccans' crisis management book. But behind this undeniable efficiency lies a disturbing question: where were the other ministers and their bloated departments? Especially those in charge of social affairs and solidarity. The Moroccan government is not limited to the sovereign ministries alone. It includes numerous ministries officially responsible for social affairs, solidarity, inclusion, family, territorial cohesion, and the fight against precariousness. Yet once again, these departments shone by their absence. No notable initiatives. No visible measures. Not even reassuring communication. Silence as the only response to the distress of those affected and the justified curiosity of citizens. This is not an isolated episode. During the Covid-19 pandemic, the bulk of the response had already rested on the security architecture and exceptional mechanisms driven from the highest levels of the State. During the El Haouz earthquake, the same scenario: remarkable mobilization of rescue forces and territorial administration, but worrying silence from several departments supposed to embody national solidarity. This repetition raises questions. It challenges not only the performance of the current government but also the very architecture of our successive governments. What is the point of an inflation of ministries if, in critical moments, they are invisible? What good is multiplying state secretariats, attached agencies, and thematic departments if their real impact is undetectable when the country faces a trial? The debate is not ideological; it is budgetary and ethical. Every ministry, every cabinet, every central directorate represents salaries, vehicles, premises, operating expenses. When these structures provide no measurable added value, they become budget-devouring. They absorb public resources without tangible return for the citizen. Some provocatively invoke Argentine President Javier Milei's "chainsaw." Obviously, this is not about caricaturally copying foreign models, and certainly not that one. But the question of rationalizing the governmental apparatus deserves to be raised seriously. An effective government is not a hypertrophic, colossal one; it is a coherent, streamlined, responsible, and efficient formation. Beyond the symbolism, there is a macroeconomic stake. A civil servant or high official paid without measurable output mechanically contributes to unproductive public spending. When public spending rises without corresponding wealth creation, it fuels imbalances, tax pressure, and ultimately inflation. Distributing income financed by taxes or debt to structures that produce neither tangible services nor social efficiency weakens the purchasing power of the very citizens one claims to protect. An unacceptable, unfair contradiction. God knows the subject is sensitive. The Moroccan citizen is not happy with price hikes and the erosion of his purchasing power. With the September elections approaching, political parties can no longer settle for sectoral promises and catalogs of social programs. They must commit to reforming the governmental architecture itself: reducing the number of departments, clarifying competencies, mandating results, and public evaluation of performance. The next head of government and all those aspiring to be—should clearly announce their visions: how many ministries? With what precise missions? According to what performance indicators? And above all: with what political responsibility in case of inaction during crises? It is time to break with the logic of satisfying partisan balances at the expense of public efficiency. Multiplying posts to appease coalitions can no longer be financed by the taxpayer with impunity and without real counterpart. Every public dirham must be justified. The exemplary mobilization of intervention forces proves that the Moroccan State knows how to act with rigor and speed when the chain of command is clear and responsibility is assumed. The government, for its part, must now prove that it can exist beyond its organigram. Citizens, finally, bear a share of responsibility. Voting should not just be an act of adherence to slogans, but a rational choice in favor of sober, effective, and responsible governance. The stakes go beyond the conjuncture: they concern the sustainability of our public finances and the credibility of our institutional model. The question thus remains, simple and relentless: in moments when the nation faces great difficulty, as is the case today, who really acts, who coasts along, contenting themselves with existing on paper and collecting salaries and perks without reason?

Under Attaf's Eyes, Ghali Begs for His "Peace Bill" in Madrid... 11025

Aziz Daouda, 4 mon.

- World Politics - Politics - Society -

2.7 min read.

It took guts. Ibrahim Ghali had them. From the Tindouf camps, this lawless, timeless no-man's-land, the Polisario leader saw fit to announce his willingness to "share the peace bill" with Morocco. Context is key to grasping the ploy. The statement came the day before his trip to Madrid, where the U.S. embassy would host a meeting this Sunday, with Morocco presenting its self-determination plan for the southern provinces. Worth noting: Mauritania would attend... and Algeria too. This Algeria, which had told itself it wasn't involved in the talks, is represented by the very same foreign minister who once wouldn't even entertain the idea... The declaration is so grotesque it deserves a direct spot in the museum of contemporary diplomatic absurdities. Let's get serious: How do you share a bill when you've never paid a dime? How do you talk peace when you've built your entire political existence on systematically rejecting every solution? How do you invoke compromise when you're surviving on financial, political, and security life support from your host country, incapable of the slightest autonomous move? Ibrahim Ghali isn't a peace actor. He is the cost, accumulated over nearly half a century. The most pathetic part of this outburst isn't its content, but what it reveals: a movement running on fumes, reduced to recycling technocratic jargon for lack of any credible ideology left. After the fantasized "armed struggle," after hollow threats of total war, after hundreds of martial communiqués drafted to sustain the illusion for a captive audience, here comes the era of political begging dressed up as responsibility. The Polisario liberates nothing, builds nothing, proposes nothing. It blocks, delays, confiscates. And now, it wants to bill. But bill for what? Exactly what "peace bill" is Ghali talking about? The decades of sequestering Sahrawi populations, deprived of basic rights? The diverted international humanitarian aid, resold and conveniently reinvested far from Tindouf? The human capital sacrificed on the altar of an obsolete separatism? Or the artificial survival of a politico-military apparatus that only exists because others prop it up? Those others now gasping for air themselves. It takes supreme cynicism to talk peace after living, or at least believing in, even a fictional war for fifty years. Ghali's sudden conversion to the language of moderation isn't some moral epiphany, obviously. It's dictated by panic. Panic at the dossier's irreversible evolution. Panic at the international realignment. Panic at the increasingly clear U.S. signals. Panic, above all, at the growing recognition of an obvious truth that even the Polisario's traditional backers no longer dare contest openly: the separatist project is dead, drained of all credibility. Its death certificate will be signed in Madrid this weekend, in the presence of its godfather. Yesterday, Ghali promised escalation. Today, he begs for talks. This isn't strategy—it's a survival reflex. When he claims the Polisario "won't substitute itself for the Sahrawis," the hypocrisy hits new heights. Who has spoken in their name without ever consulting them? Who confiscated their future under the pretext of representing them? Who turned entire generations into diplomatic bargaining chips? Certainly not Morocco, which invests, develops, and integrates. But a frozen apparatus, churning out nothing but outdated slogans dictated by its sponsor's services. **As for the ritual invocation of "international legality," it's now pure Pavlovian reflex. A magic formula mechanically repeated by a structure with no legal, political, or historical grounding anymore and likely no credibility left among the sequestered. The world has changed, international law evolves, and the Polisario keeps waving resolutions like relics, hoping for a miracle.** Reality is brutal: Morocco has no "peace bill" to share with the Polisario. It has already paid, and keeps paying, in investments, stability, political vision, and diplomatic credibility. The autonomy plan under Moroccan sovereignty isn't a concession: it's the solution. Everything else is ideological folklore. The Polisario, for its part, has nothing to offer. No territory. No project. No renewed legitimacy. Just political, moral, and human debts to the sequestered it's clumsily trying to offload onto others. Let Ibrahim Ghali keep his bills. Let him send them to those who host him, fund him, and still dictate his outbursts. The process marches on, reality asserts itself, and history's train doesn't stop for clandestine passengers waving expired tickets. Welcome to Madrid, Mr. Attaf but beware, neither Morocco nor the U.S. have time to waste. They have far better things to do than listen to you and put up with the idiocy. In Madrid, Morocco is represented by Nasser Bourita, Algeria by Ahmed Attaf, Mauritania by Mohamed Salem Ould Merzoug. Mohamed Yeslem Beissat will be there for the Polisario and listen like a good student to the dictation. In diplomatic precaution, lest anyone forget the UN's involvement, the UN Secretary-General's personal envoy, Staffan de Mistura, is invited. But no one's fooled: it's the U.S. steering the ship, with one agenda item: the autonomy plan under Moroccan sovereignty, and nothing else. Morocco has fleshed it out, expanding from the initial 5-page project to about forty pages today, no more.

Immigration: Spain Wins, Europe Shoots Itself in the Foot... 11329

Aziz Daouda, 4 mon.

- World Politics - Society - Business -

2.2 min read.

Spain under Pedro Sánchez has adopted a pro-immigration policy in stark contrast to the hardening observed in most European countries. While Europe as a whole tightens the screws on migrants and pins all its weaknesses and dysfunctions on them, Madrid bets on their integration through work, reaping in return the continent's strongest economic growth in 2025. Most European nations base their migration policies on restriction and expulsion. The European Union is even considering return hubs outside its borders to speed up deportations and more harshly punish refusals to leave, under pressure from far-right forces. Countries like Germany, France, and Italy have tightened quotas and procedures in 2025, wrongly perceiving migrants as a source of social and economic tensions. Isn't this a real long-term economic and social suicide... Pedro Sánchez, for his part, reaffirms that legal immigration is an economic asset and a demographic necessity, with migrants already making up 13% of the country's workforce. In May 2025, a reform of the foreigners' regulations expanded corridors for agriculture, construction, tech, and healthcare, fast-tracking permits for graduates and startups. At the end of January 2026, the government announced the regularization of 500,000 undocumented migrants who arrived before the end of 2025, via an expedited procedure for those without criminal records. In 2025, Spain recorded +2.8% GDP growth, twice that of the eurozone, boosted by tourism, household consumption, and falling unemployment. Foreigners drove 80% of the increase in the active population from 2022-2024, offsetting the decline in native workers. A report forecasts a continued positive impact through 2026, with +0.5 points of GDP thanks to migratory inflows. Madrid is betting on integration through employment rather than exclusion. Sánchez presents this model as a blueprint for an aging Europe, highlighting the economic rationale of managed migration. Direct consequence: Spain enjoys a full-throttle economy despite internal criticism and tensions stirred by various right-wing forces. For 2026, Spain plans to digitize permit renewals and boost industrialization with foreign talent. This isolated choice strengthens its dynamism but exposes it to internal political tensions, while sparking a continental debate on the virtues of managed immigration. In contrast, restrictive Europe is paying a heavy price for its anti-immigration choices. While Spain prospers thanks to its openness, countries that have toughened their migration policies: Germany, France, Italy, face glaring labor shortages in vital sectors: agriculture, construction, healthcare, logistics, and hospitality. These essential jobs, unattractive to nationals, remain under strain, mechanically hampering economic growth due to a lack of hands and brains. The decline in fertility worsens this demographic impasse. With rates below 1.5 children per woman in most European countries, the active population is inexorably contracting, leading to more retirees to support, fewer young people to produce and contribute. Germany, for example, forecasts a shortfall of 7 million workers by 2035, while France sees its hospitals and fields suffering from staff shortages. Result: anemic growth, around 1% in the eurozone in 2025, far from Spain's 2.8%. How to reverse the trend? Options are dwindling: forced retirement age increases, which anger unions; timid natalist incentives, ineffective in the short term; or partial automation, costly and unsuited to manual jobs. Without regulated migratory inflows, these aging nations risk stagnation that can only lead to decline. Spain thus shows the way for those who want to integrate through work to turn a constraint into an engine. In these troubled times, proponents of the "great replacement" theory, this apocalyptic vision of a submerged Europe, unfortunately find growing popular echo, fueled by fears and also by the failures of restrictive policies. Yet the facts speak for themselves: it's the refusal of managed immigration that is suffocating economies, not reasoned welcoming. In reality, the various right-wing factions and their ideologues are against certain immigration, not others; except that the countries once suppliers of workers have changed. They are richer, industrializing, and facing birth rate deficits themselves. Sánchez, isolated but visionary, is in fact openly inviting Europe to a pragmatic awakening before it's too late.

#3 AMLD Africa 2026: AI Innovation at Wits University (Johannesburg) 10146

Tariq Daouda, 4 mon.

- Technology - Science - Society -

0.3 min read.

- Tariq Daouda Podcast -

The conversation revolves around the mission of AMLD Africa and the 2026 edition at Wits University (Johannesburg Jan 26-29, 2026), a nonprofit organization aimed at democratizing AI in Africa. Khalil (President of AMLD Africa) discusses the various aspects of the conference, including its entrepreneurial focus, pricing strategy, and the challenges of organizing events in Africa. The importance of the African diaspora, inclusivity, and networking opportunities are emphasized, along with the significance of keynote speakers and the Startup Forum for connecting startups with investors. The conversation ends with a discussion on the importance of energy, finance sector, and regulations for the development of Africa.

youtu.be/rqD0icXxFug