Think Forward.

Society

Moroccans and Algerians: brothers in history probably, political enemies certainly. 855

The question of whether Moroccans and Algerians are brothers recurs recurrently, often laden with emotion, rarely addressed with the historical depth and political lucidity it deserves. The slogan conceals a complex reality, marked by anthropological and civilizational unity, but also by successive ruptures, some ancient, others more recent, largely imposed by external dominations and then by post-independence political choices. At the origin, human and civilizational unity is undeniable. On historical, anthropological, and cultural levels, there is little doubt that North Africa long constituted **a single continuous human space**. The great Berber confederations: Sanhaja, Zenata, Masmouda; Islamic contributions; networks of religious brotherhoods; trade routes; and Moroccan dynasties Almoravid, Almohad, Marinid, Saadian structured an **organic Maghreb**, without rigid borders. Belongings were tribal, religious, spiritual, or dynastic. The circulation of people, ideas, and elites was constant. **Moroccans and Algerians clearly shared the same civilizational foundation**. Then came the Ottoman parenthesis and a first structural divergence. From the 16th century onward, a **major differentiation** emerged between the western shores of the Maghreb. While Morocco remained a sovereign state, structured around a rooted Sharifian monarchy, Algeria fell under **Ottoman domination**, integrated as a peripheral regency of the Empire, a domination that lasted nearly three centuries and was far from neutral. It introduced: * an **exogenous power**, military and urban, detached from the interior tribal world; * a hierarchical system dominated by a politico-military caste: Janissaries, deys, beys, often of non-local origin; * a social organization marked by a clear separation between rulers and ruled, without true political integration of the populations. This Ottoman model, more based on coercion than allegiance, contrasted deeply with the Moroccan model, where central power rested on **bay‘a**, religious legitimacy, and indigenous dynastic continuity. Without “denaturing” the populations in the biological sense, this long Ottoman period **altered relationships to the state, authority, and sovereignty**, and gradually distanced, on cultural and political levels, the societies of western Algeria from those of Morocco. Then came French colonization and institutionalized separation. French colonization of Algeria (1830–1962) introduced an even deeper rupture. Paris methodically worked to **tear Algeria from its natural Maghrebi environment**, transforming it into a settler colony, then into French departments. Borders were unilaterally redrawn to Morocco's detriment, and an Algerian identity was progressively constructed **in opposition to its western neighbor**, portrayed as archaic. This is a direct legacy of French colonial software. Yet, despite this separation enterprise, fraternity between the peoples endured. Morocco hosted, supported, and armed FLN fighters; thousands of Moroccans participated in the liberation war; the late HM Mohammed V committed the kingdom's prestige and resources to Algerian independence. At that precise moment, fraternity was neither a myth nor rhetoric: it was **a concrete historical fact**. At Algerian independence, an unexpected political rupture was embraced. Paradoxically, it was **after 1962**, once Algeria was independent, that the fracture became enduring. The power emerging from the Army of the Frontiers reneged on agreements concluded with the GPRA regarding colonial-inherited borders. The **1963 Sand War**, launched against a weakened but previously supportive Morocco, became a founding trauma. From then on, hostility became structural: * Direct support for Moroccan opponents and putschists; * Political, diplomatic, military, and financial backing for Polisario separatists; * Relentless media campaigns against Morocco and its monarchy; * Repeated interferences in Morocco's sovereign choices, including its international alliances, notably with Israel; * Heavy accusations, often raised in Algerian public debate; * Destabilization operations, including the 1994 Asni Hotel attack in Marrakech; * Instrumentalization of Algerian school education, where Morocco is portrayed as a “colonialist” state; * Brutal deportation of 45,000 Moroccans from Algeria; * Sabotage of rapprochement attempts, including under President Mohamed Boudiaf, whose assassination, while he was initiating dialogue with Rabat, remains shrouded in shadows. More recently, the case of **Boualem Sansal**, imprisoned for expressing historically inconvenient truths challenging the official narrative, illustrates the Algerian regime's inability to accept a free and serene reading of Maghrebi history. Thus, two irreconcilable national trajectories. To this political hostility is added a profound divergence in national trajectories. Morocco, not without criticisms, has pursued gradual transformation: institutional reforms, pluralism, major infrastructure projects, African integration, economic and diplomatic diversification. In contrast, Algeria remains trapped in a **militaro-security system inherited from both Ottoman logic and the liberation war**, centralized, distrustful of society, dependent on energy rents, and structurally hostile to any regional success perceived as competitive. This asymmetry fuels frustration and resentment, where Morocco becomes a **useful ideological adversary, the classic enemy**. So, brothers or not? The answer is nuanced, but unambiguous. **Moroccans and Algerians are brothers through long history, deep culture, geography, and human ties.** They were for centuries, before Ottoman domination, before French colonization, and perhaps remain so at the level of the peoples. But **they no longer are at the level of the states**, due to a deliberate political choice by the Algerian regime since independence: to build its legitimacy on external hostility, particularly toward Morocco. Fraternity has not disappeared; it has been **progressively altered, then confiscated** by imperial, colonial, and postcolonial history. It persists in popular memory, in separated families, in the painful silence of closed borders. History, unbiased by passion or ideology, delivers the verdict—and the 35th CAN contributes to it: **the peoples are brothers; the Algerian regime has decided otherwise**.

Moulay El Hassan's Style: Elegance, Humility, and Sovereignty of Gesture... 1189

Sometimes, a moment transcends the event that made it possible. The opening ceremony of the 35th edition of the Africa Cup of Nations, hosted in Morocco, will undoubtedly remain in memories not only for its technology, beauty, thematic relevance, and unprecedented quality in Africa; not for its sporting and diplomatic importance, but above all for the silent, almost choreographed performance of Crown Prince **Moulay El Hassan**. Under pouring rain, in a packed stadium and under the crossed gazes of Moroccan and international audiences, the Prince surprised the uninitiated. Not through ostentation, but through sobriety. Not through distance, but through proximity. That evening, Morocco offered Africa and the world far more than a football tournament: a lesson in style, behavior, and hospitality through the elegance of gesture and nobility of demeanor. Without an umbrella, advancing calmly onto the soaked pitch of the **Stade Moulay Abdellah**, Crown Prince stops, warmly greets a charmed, enthusiastic, fervent crowd, and heads toward the referees and players with disarming naturalness. The images speak for themselves: smiles, simple exchanges, a friendly and deeply human tone. No heavy protocol, no rigidity. Just the evident poise of a man at ease in his mission, with presence and class. When he asks the referee which side to kick the ball from for the symbolic kick-off, the gesture becomes almost metaphorical. That of a throne heir who knows that true authority need not be imposed, but is exercised through respect, affection, and listening. The ball is struck with elegance, without emphasis. The message, however, is crystal clear. Joy is evident. Morocco is host and common home to an entire continent in the making. The Prince proves it. As a true Moroccan, Crown Prince masters this ancestral art: that of receiving and putting guests at ease. The nations present at the CAN are Morocco's guests. And, at a deeper level still, they are the guests of all Moroccans, led by His Majesty King Mohammed VI, may God assist him, as the president of FIFA **Gianni Infantino** and that of the CAF **Patrice Motsepe**, South African as a reminder, delight in repeating. By presiding over this ceremony and representing his august father, Prince Moulay El Hassan embodied not only institutional continuity. He embodied a culture: that of a Kingdom where hospitality is a cardinal value, and where sovereignty is also expressed through courtesy. Seated in the Royal Box alongside the President of the Comoros, **Gianni Infantino**, **Patrice Motsepe**, and the president of the FRMF **Fouzi Lekjaa**, the Prince followed the match with visible attention, reacting to key moments like any football enthusiast, expressing sincere joy and shared emotion. When **Ayoub El Kaabi** scores his splendid acrobatic overhead kick in the 74th minute, the Prince's joy is spontaneous, sincere, almost contagious. It is not a calculated joy, but that of a young man proud of his team, his country, and the historic moment the Kingdom and Africa are experiencing. At that very instant, he turns and respectfully greets his guest: the President of the Comoros. Relations and cooperation with these sister islands, though distant, are special. Nearly all the high officials of this brother nation, including the president himself, were trained in Morocco's great schools and universities. This ability of His Royal Highness to shift seamlessly from protocol to emotion may be one of the most striking traits of this performance. It humanizes the role without ever weakening it. It recalls the royal solicitude at Marrakech hospital: His Majesty leaning over a hospital bed and embracing a Sub-Saharan injured man who thanks him wholeheartedly and seems to have forgotten his misfortune. There, in Rabat, on this evening of December 21, the rain is a symbol: between gratitude and destiny. That evening held another dimension, subtler, almost spiritual. After seven consecutive years of drought, this abundant rain falling on Rabat at that precise moment took on particular resonance. The princely gesture, performed without protection amid a downpour, appeared to many as a form of silent gratitude, a thanks to divine mercy. Long live the abundant rain and snows on the peaks of the Atlas. In a monarchy where the long term, symbolism, and the sacred matter as much as the media instant, this image has marked minds. It reminded that power in Morocco is rooted in historical and spiritual continuity, that of the world's oldest reigning dynasty. That of the Commander of the Faithful. Did not the late Hassan II thank God, traversing Khemisset standing with arms raised, through a long-awaited downpour? The Prince is an exceptional man in the making: brilliant student, insightful doctoral candidate, resolute Moroccan, convinced Muslim, determined African, erudite humanist. The final victory of the Atlas Lions (2-0) merely capped off an evening already rich in meaning. But beyond the score, it is Crown Prince's behavior that will remain one of the highlights of this CAN opening. Through his humility, elegance, and mastery of codes, **Moulay El Hassan** showed that he is not merely a blood royal heir, but an heir to enduring values. And that may be where the respect, love, and admiration of the Moroccan public, and the surprise of the international one—lie: in having seen, under the rain, the portrait of a future great leader who understands that greatness often begins with the simplicity of the gesture.

2030 World Cup: Toward a Framework Law for Sports Events in Morocco—The Art of Transforming the Exceptional into a Lasting Legacy 1243

The awarding of the 2030 World Cup to the Morocco-Spain-Portugal triumvirate must no longer be seen as a mere celebration of global football, but as a convergence of shared sovereignties. For the first time, history is doing more than just bridging two shores; it is mandating the construction of an integrated legal and economic space that defies the traditional boundaries of event organization. This project transcends fleeting logistical cooperation; it demands the birth of a true Laboratory for Institutional Modernity. Beyond the colossal investment exceeding 50 billion dirhams, the fundamental challenge lies in the Kingdom's ability to erect an exceptional normative framework. The goal is no longer simply to host, but to anticipate: how can the imperative of convergence be transformed into a lasting legislative legacy? Caught between the structural influence of international standards and the need for a strong Euro-African anchor, Morocco stands before a "fertile wall": the invention of "event law" which—much like the shifts seen for the Paris 2024 Olympics—will make 2030 the foundation of a new global development model. I. The Framework Law: Moving Beyond Management Toward Accelerated Execution The announcement of this tripartite bid has elevated the need for harmonized coordination in logistics, economics, and security to a strategic imperative. The current framework, dominated by Law 30-09, cannot alone bear the weight of an event expected to welcome over 1.5 million supporters. The French Mirror: For the Paris 2024 Olympics, France adopted exceptional legislation as early as 2018 to reduce administrative appeal periods for Olympic construction sites by 25%. The Convergence Imperative: The World Cup deadline acts as a powerful lever, forcing the acceleration of regulatory and customs convergence between the three capitals. Special Legal Status: The Kingdom must establish a "derogatory regime" for its strategic construction zones, transforming administrative constraints into operational fluidity. II. The "Legacy" Doctrine: Legal Engineering Against "White Elephants" The overall efficiency of the operation—from the pre-event phase to the post-event legacy—rests entirely on the solidity of this triangular commitment. Mutualization and Interoperability: Trilateral agreements directly influence planning: it is no longer about building isolated infrastructure, but integrated networks (ports, air, and rail links) designed for seamless interoperability. The SOLIDEO Model: Following the French structural model, Morocco must ensure that infrastructure transformation is driven by normative alignment to guarantee future social utility. Optimizing Returns: Harmonizing tourism offerings and incentive-based tax regimes for investors is crucial to maximizing shared economic benefits. III. Sovereignty and Cybersecurity: The New Digital Battlefield An event of this magnitude, managed by three sovereign states, creates coordination challenges that require top-tier diplomatic and technical management. Unified Security Space: Creating a unified security space requires real-time information sharing and seamless law enforcement coordination between the three nations. The Transcontinental Mobility Challenge: Moving supporters between Europe and Africa must be fluid, reliable, and eco-friendly, requiring massive investment in airport capacity. Sovereignty and Image: The challenge is to present an ideal model of intercultural coexistence while shielding critical systems against rising cyber threats. Conclusion: Toward a New Standard of Power The 2030 World Cup is not merely the sum of three national organizations; it is a project of strategic co-development. By anchoring this exceptional event in legal sustainability, Morocco has the opportunity to transform this bid into a historic precedent for successful integration between two continents.

The Moroccan Paradox: Between Tangible Progress and Social Disenchantment... 1276

Macroeconomic and social indicators paint the picture of a Morocco in profound transformation. Today's Morocco bears little resemblance to that of the early post-independence decades. Life expectancy, which stagnated around half a century in the 1960s, now exceeds three-quarters of a century. Policies on electrification, drinking water access, schooling, and healthcare coverage have yielded visible results, even if pockets of fragility persist. The country has gained nearly thirty years of life expectancy and significantly reduced poverty. Consumption patterns have diversified, domestic tourism has grown, and leisure practices have spread. Social behaviors are gradually aligning with those seen in upper-middle-income countries, if not beyond. Yet, this overall positive situation coexists with a diffuse sense of malaise. Pessimism persists, coupled with growing distrust of political institutions, manifesting as civic disenchantment. How to explain this gap between measurable, tangible progress and a collective sentiment sometimes marked by self-deprecation? Economically, despite exogenous shocks, pandemic, repeated droughts, geopolitical tensions, imported inflation, the trajectory remains broadly upward. The boom in infrastructure, development of export industries (automotive, aeronautics, phosphate and derivatives), the rise of services, and progressive integration into global value chains are regularly praised by international institutions, which are unanimous on the country's resilience and advances in human development. Urban planning and beautification are simply stunning. By the data alone, life is indisputably "better" in Morocco today than twenty, thirty, or fifty years ago. Yet, this objective improvement does not mechanically translate into a sense of well-being. Well-being is never measured in absolute terms. It is built through comparison: with yesterday, with others, with what one perceives as possible or legitimate. As society progresses, expectations rise, diversify, and become more demanding. Citizens no longer settle for access to basic services; they aspire to quality, recognition, and dignity. The widespread access to information and social networks has amplified this hall of mirrors. Western living standards, globalized consumption patterns, and lifestyles of local or international elites are constantly on display. The frame of reference no longer stops at the neighboring village or previous generation but extends to far wealthier societies or privileged minorities. This imagined gap between what is and what is seen, sometimes fantasized, fuels frustration that can coexist with real improvements in material conditions. Thus, the sense of downward mobility reflects less an objective regression than a mismatch between rapidly expanding aspirations and economic, social, and institutional responses progressing at a pace deemed insufficient. Progress does not mask persistent fractures. Gaps between urban and rural worlds, coastal regions and hinterlands, socioeconomic categories are narrowing but remain stark in perception and feeling. The middle class feels it is navigating a zone of uncertainty. It enjoys a higher standard of living than the previous generation but feels vulnerable. Even with positive macroeconomic indicators, many households' difficulty in projecting serenely into the medium term—planning projects, anticipating social mobility, securing retirement—feeds a diffuse anxiety. Uncertainty, more than poverty in the strict sense, becomes a central factor in the malaise. This unease extends beyond the economic or social sphere. It finds a powerful amplifier in the crisis of trust toward political actors. Opinion polls show growing distrust of parties, elected officials, and mediating institutions. Achievements are not sufficiently explained or embodied by credible leaders, and many citizens feel inequity, pinning their sentiment on politics. Politics is often seen as a closed space, dominated by careerism and clientelism. Expectations in electoral alternations are regularly disappointed, leading to frustration spilling over the entire political field. Politicians become symbolic receptacles for a malaise that far exceeds their actual actions. This phenomenon is reinforced by the temporality of public policies. Many reforms, educational, social, territorial, produce long-term effects, while citizens demand quick, tangible results in daily life. Lacking pedagogy, transparency, and collective narrative, public policies remain abstract, their benefits invisible or attributed to other factors. Moroccan pessimism does not necessarily take the form of radical contestation. It often manifests as "gentle nihilism": electoral abstention, associational disengagement, retreat into the private sphere, rise of irony and cynicism in public debate, self-deprecating discourse about the country itself. This climate erodes confidence in the collective capacity to transform reality. This nihilism is ambivalent. It coexists with strong aspirations for individual success and international recognition of the country. It does not signal rejection of progress but doubt about the system's ability to offer prospects to all, not just the usual beneficiaries. The challenge for Morocco thus goes beyond the economic or social dimension. It is also symbolic and political. How to ensure tangible progress translates into a shared sense of collective advancement? How to reconnect individual trajectories with a clear, credible vision of the future? Without a shared narrative, even positive figures struggle to convince. The Moroccan paradox is not that of a stagnant country but of a society in motion, traversed by constant tension between real progress and hopes. It is in the ability to transform this tension into reform energy that the future largely lies. The CAN, with circulating videos conveying foreign satisfaction and astonishment at Morocco's progress, could be the hoped-for turning point. Life is good in Morocco.

Law 30-09: A “Tree with Bitter Fruits” Hindering the Development of Moroccan Sports 2235

While Morocco’s recent performances on the international stage—particularly in football—demonstrate its growing dynamism, the legal framework governing the sports sector seems unable to keep pace with this evolution. Conceived in the wake of the 2008 Royal Letter and enacted in 2010, Law No. 30-09, which was meant to modernize the national sports system, now reveals—fifteen years after its delayed implementation—serious limitations. Marked by internal inconsistencies, deficient enforcement, and pervasive state interference, the law ultimately undermines its original purpose: to professionalize Moroccan sport and align it with international standards. I. Excessive Requirements and Forgotten Sanctions Born from a clear political will to reform Moroccan sport and provide it with a modern legal framework, Law 30-09 has quickly become a rigid and impractical instrument. One of its most emblematic—and controversial—provisions is the obligation imposed on certain sports associations to establish sports corporations (Sociétés Anonymes). While the intent was to ensure sound governance, fiscal transparency, and executive accountability, practice has revealed the limits of this approach. •⁠ ⁠A disproportionate constraint. Most associations lack the financial and organizational capacity to comply with such structural obligations. •⁠ ⁠A flawed and inapplicable framework. The law establishes three non-cumulative conditions triggering the obligation to form a sports company. Only the first has been clarified by regulation, while the other two—relating to turnover and payroll—were never defined by governmental decree. As a result, the rule remains largely inoperative, especially since the penalties for non-compliance are systematically ignored. •⁠ ⁠An unfinished reform. Even among the few clubs that have complied, the parent association still holds the majority of the share capital. This structural lock prevents the opening of capital to private investors, thus maintaining dependency on the old associative model rather than promoting professionalization. II. The Persistent Shadow of the State: An Interference Contrary to Autonomy Principles By its very nature, sport is a sphere of autonomy, an ethos enshrined in the Moroccan Constitution and in the regulations of international organizations such as FIFA. Yet Law 30-09 establishes the supervising ministry as the true guardian of the sector, concentrating significant and often excessive powers: •⁠ ⁠An extensive right of scrutiny. The ministry approves statutes, grants accreditation, and confers authorization to national federations. •⁠ ⁠A pronounced power of interference. The administration may impose standard contracts and, more seriously, revoke authorization or dissolve a federation in the event of a “serious violation.” Such prerogatives contradict the spirit of the Constitution, which reserves this power to the judiciary. •⁠ ⁠Institutional omnipresence. A state representative must sit within the governing bodies of both the national federations and the Moroccan National Olympic Committee (CNOM), reinforcing state oversight at the expense of autonomy. This predominant executive control contradicts the principles of independence that underpin both national constitutional law and the global sports governance model. III. The Ambiguous Status of Athletes: The Law’s Major Omission Beyond institutional deficiencies, Law 30-09 exposes a serious legal vacuum regarding the status of athletes. The professional athlete’s contract is treated as an ordinary employment contract—an assimilation that raises significant difficulties. •⁠ ⁠The legislator had to create several exceptions to the Labour Code (five-year fixed-term contracts, exclusivity clauses, conditions for unilateral termination), resulting in an incoherent hybrid regime. •⁠ ⁠Although classified as “employees,” professional athletes do not enjoy the social protection and retirement benefits normally afforded to workers. •⁠ ⁠As for amateur athletes, their status remains completely unaddressed by the law. The provisions aimed at supporting athlete training and post-career reconversion are equally deficient. They are neither mandatory nor widely implemented, few training centers exist, and many athletes lack the educational background needed to benefit from such programs. IV. The Need for a Moroccan Sports Code Faced with these structural weaknesses, a piecemeal revision of the law is no longer adequate. The codification of sports law—through the adoption of a comprehensive Moroccan Sports Code—is now an imperative step toward supporting the country’s international ambition. Drawing inspiration from the French model, such a reform would serve several key purposes: 1.⁠ ⁠Clarifying and consolidating the dispersed legal texts, regulations, and case law to facilitate specialization among legal practitioners. 2.⁠ ⁠Correcting inconsistencies by redefining the jurisdictional competences of the State and creating a sui generis legal status for professional and amateur athletes. 3.⁠ ⁠Modernizing the legal framework by integrating fiscal and social regimes specific to sports entities and individuals. Despite its initial promise of modernization, Law 30-09 has become a “tree with bitter fruits.” Instead of fostering professionalism, it has constrained the sector and amplified its institutional fragility. Only a complete codification—reflecting Morocco’s socio-economic realities and the principles of good governance—can ensure a coherent, autonomous, and sustainable framework for the country’s sports development.

Waking Up in the Dark: School Schedules Adapted to Morocco's 21st-Century Child... 2515

What inspired these lines is a letter published by a father on social media, which states in essence: "I am writing to you as a concerned parent, but also as a citizen exhausted by a government choice that, year after year, ignores common sense: maintaining a schedule where our children wake up when it's still pitch black to go to school. Every morning, it's the same absurd scenario: wake-up at dawn, children torn from sleep, eyes still closed, bodies tired, forced to go out into the darkness, sometimes in the cold, to reach their school. Sleepy students in class, weakened concentration, growing irritability. How can we talk about quality learning in these conditions?" Beyond fatigue, there is danger. Many parents lack the means to accompany their children. These children walk alone on streets still shrouded in darkness, exposed to risks of traffic accidents, assaults, or incivilities. This fact alone should question the relevance of this schedule. Yet the government persists in defending this choice in the name of economic or energy arguments, without ever weighing the well-being, health, and safety of our children against them. We are not asking for the impossible, only a return to a human rhythm, adapted to the reality of our society. Through this letter, I hope this debate will finally be opened seriously. Our children are not adjustable variables. They deserve a normal wake-up, in daylight, and a school that respects their fundamental needs." It lays out the ordeal experienced by children and parents and challenges the school rhythm imposed on our children. In fact, current school schedules are based on an organization largely inherited from the early 20th century, designed for a society with more stable temporalities, not at all connected and less exposed to constant stimulation. However, scientific studies have converged for some time on a single observation: there is a growing gap between these institutional frameworks and the biological, cognitive, and psychosocial needs of the contemporary child. Even better, the 21st-century child evolves in an environment marked by the omnipresence of screens, the multiplication of digital interactions, and the porosity between school time, family time, and leisure time. Research in chronobiology clearly establishes that exposure to artificial light, particularly blue light emitted by screens, delays melatonin secretion, the key hormone for falling asleep. This late-night exposure permanently disrupts wake-sleep cycles in children and adolescents, making early bedtime biologically difficult, regardless of the educational rules set by families. In this context, maintaining very early school schedules amounts to instituting a chronic sleep debt in the child. Yet, the role of sleep in learning is now solidly documented. Neurosciences show that sleep is essential for memory consolidation, emotional regulation, and the proper functioning of executive functions such as attention, planning, and cognitive control. Regular sleep deprivation is associated with decreased academic performance, increased irritability, and attention disorders that can exacerbate learning difficulties. North American studies provide particularly instructive insights: delaying the start of classes, associated with improved sleep time, leads to better academic results, attendance, mental health, and a reduction in road accidents involving adolescents. The American Academy of Pediatrics explicitly recommends later school schedules for adolescents, in line with their naturally shifted circadian rhythm. Lacking precise studies in Morocco, let's look at what is said elsewhere. Research shows that during adolescence, the biological clock physiologically shifts toward a later bedtime. Forcing a very early wake-up thus directly conflicts with a normal biological process. Ignoring this well-established data undermines the very conditions of learning and well-being. To cognitive fatigue are added issues of safety and social inequalities. The early schedules still imposed in Morocco expose many children to travel in darkness, increasing road and urban risks. For example, OECD studies emphasize that learning conditions extend beyond the classroom: travel time, accumulated fatigue, and family context strongly influence academic trajectories. The most modest families have less leeway for adaptation in accompaniment, secure transport, and educational compensation, turning school schedules into an indirect but real factor of inequalities. Economic, organizational, or energy imperatives cannot justify the status quo. Several international analyses show the exorbitant long-term costs of sleep deprivation: in terms of school dropout, anxiety disorders, reduced productivity, and health problems. These cumulative costs far exceed the adjustments needed for a reform of schedules. The OECD regularly insists on the importance of investing in student well-being as a condition for the effectiveness of education systems. Rethinking school schedules is therefore neither about comfort, laxity, nor whimsy. It is a rational approach, grounded in robust scientific data. Pedagogical effectiveness is not measured by the number of hours spent at school or the earliness of wake-up, but by the quality of attention, the cognitive availability of children, and the engagement of students and teachers. This reflection must fit into a comprehensive approach. Experts emphasize the need to coordinate school schedules, screen time management, workload, balance between family and educational life, and mental health. A high-performing education system is one capable of integrating scientific insights and evolving with the society it serves. In the era of permanent connectivity, persisting with rigid patterns institutionalizes fatigue from childhood. Taking into account the needs of the child, rather than the constraints of the adult world, is not a pedagogical utopia. It is a scientific, social, and ultimately political imperative. Morocco has all the means to undertake a genuine reflection on the issue and should initiate it as the basis for a true education reform.

Mustapha Hadji, African Ballon d’Or: From the Silence of the Pastures to the Voice of the Stadiums... 2726

Mustapha Hadji's record of achievements fits into a few lines, but each one carries immense weight in the history of African football, Moroccan youth, and especially for Mustapha himself. African Ballon d’Or in 1998, key architect of Morocco's epic run at the World Cup in France, respected international, elegant playmaker, discreet ambassador for football and the youth of Morocco's pre-desert interior. Titles, distinctions, numbers. And yet, reducing Hadji to his record would miss the essence: a rare human journey, almost cinematic, that begins far from the spotlight. For before the European pitches, before the anthems and trophies, there was a douar near Guelmim. A harsh, rugged region where childhood unfolds to the rhythm of the sun and the herds. The wind is dry and fierce. The horizon stretches endlessly. Children there gaze at the Atlas and the majesty of its summits at every moment. The soil is hard and rocky. Like many children his age, Mustapha became a shepherd as soon as he could walk, as soon as he could be independent. He quickly became the guardian of what his family and douar held most precious: goats and sheep. He learned patience, solitude, and observation early on. Qualities that would later make him a unique player, able to read the game before others, sense the ball, and adjust his movement. The turning point came with family reunification. Destination: France. The shock was immense. Change of language, climate, social codes. At school, Mustapha struggled to fit in. He didn't understand everything, spoke little, often withdrawing into himself. But where words failed, the ball became his language. It was on neighborhood fields that his talent began to shine. Instinctive, fluid football, almost poetic. No calculations, just the joy of playing, of finally expressing himself, of showing what he was capable of. Around him, kind eyes lingered. Coaches, educators, humanistic figures who saw beyond academic or linguistic struggles. And above all, there was a father who rose early to work and a mother who watched over them. A constant, demanding, protective presence. She guided, encouraged, reminded them of the importance of work and discipline. It was in her genes. She knew where she came from. Nothing was left to chance. From there, the ascent became unstoppable. Club by club, Mustapha Hadji refined his game. He wasn't the strongest or the fastest, but he understood football. The ball adopted and loved him. He played between the lines, made others play, elevated the collective. His style stood out in an era dominated by physicality. He imposed a different grammar: that of intelligence and creativity. 1998 marked the pinnacle. The World Cup in France revealed Hadji to the wider public. Morocco captivated, impressed, came close to a feat. Hadji was its technical soul. Months later, the African Ballon d’Or crowned this singular trajectory. Continental recognition, but also a powerful symbol: a child of Guelmim becoming a reference in African football. Without ever denying his roots, he elevated them in his story. He always evokes them with nostalgia and gratitude. After the heights, Mustapha Hadji didn't turn into a flashy icon. He remained true to a certain sobriety. That of the Moor descending from the man of Jbel Ighoud. Like his 40 million compatriots, he embodies 350,000 years of history, no scandals, few bombastic statements. Rare elegance, on and off the pitch. Later, he would pass on knowledge, support, advise, always with the same discretion. Mustapha Hadji's story deserves more than a one-off tribute. It calls for a series, a long-form narrative. Because it speaks of exile and integration, transmission and merit, raw talent shaped by effort and human guidance. Above all, it reminds us that behind every trophy hides a child, often silent, who learned to turn fragility into strength. In a modern football world sometimes afflicted by amnesia, Mustapha Hadji's path remains a lesson. A lesson in play, but above all a lesson in life. During the 4th African Days of Investment and Employment, dedicated to football as a vector for socio-economic inclusion, held at the Faculty of Legal and Social Sciences - Souissi, in Rabat, Mustapha was invited to the stage by Dounia Siraj, the icon of sports journalism, another example of success from innovative, committed, confident youth. She masterfully directed a ceremony where she had to, among other things, give the floor to Fouzi Lakjaa and Midaoui. She did so without flinching, with a steady voice and dignified posture. Mustapha spoke and shared his story. The words were powerful, precise, and true. The posture was dignified. The audience was moved. The many young students listened in awe. They were living a unique moment. Rare inspiration. Mustapha, smiling, recounted. The words flowed in a breathtaking narrative. That's when I spoke up to challenge Moroccan cinema. Doesn't this unique story, like so many others, deserve to be told in a film, in a series? Mustapha's words and expressions are so powerful that, translated into images, they could show all emerging youth the values of work, seriousness, self-confidence, and commitment. The Marrakech Festival had just closed the day before. As Mustapha spoke, I dreamed of seeing a film about Mustapha Hadji win the Golden Star... at a future edition. Moroccan cinema should play that role too. That of perpetuating the Kingdom's youth successes. Cinema must tell us, and especially the youth, these great stories of achievement in countless fields—and God knows there are many. Don't the stories of Nezha Bidouane, Hicham El Guerrouj, Said Aouita, Salah Hissou, Moulay Brahim Boutayeb, Abdelmajid Dolmy, Si Mohamed Timoumi or Achik, Nawal El Moutawakel deserve to be told in books, in films? Those of Jilali Gharbaoui, Mohamed Choukri, Abdelouhab Doukkali, Abdelhadi Belkhayat, Tayeb Seddiki, Tayeb Laalj, Fatna Bent Lhoucine, Fadoul, Miloud Chaabi, Haj Omar Tissir (Nesblssa), and many more—don't they deserve to be brought to the screen? Thank you, Si Mustapha, for being a great player, a national pride, and above all for continuing to do what you do with brilliance: motivating and inspiring our youth, sharpening our national pride through this renewed education, the pillar of a sovereign Morocco that lifts its youth toward a prosperous and enlightened future.

Law 30-09 on Physical Education and Sports in Morocco: An Obsolete Brake on Sport Development... 2766

Promulgated in 2010, Law 30-09 aimed to modernize Moroccan sports governance, regulate the associative movement, and pave the way for professionalization. Fourteen years later, its record is mixed: while it established a formal structure, it has always been said that it fails to meet the demands of modern sports and lacks incentives and encouragement. Today, it is accused of being a **structural brake** on Moroccan sports due to its rigid, ill-adapted, and partially unconstitutional framework. Worse still, launched well before the royal letter to the sports assemblies of 2008, the project underwent no adjustments to align with royal directives. The authors likely believed it sufficiently addressed the letter's content and saw no need to withdraw it. The questioning, already sharp since its promulgation, has intensified in light of the 2011 Constitution, which elevates physical activity to a citizen's right and requires the State to promote high-level sports while fostering associative participation. The approach of the 2030 World Cup, moreover, demands urgent legislative adaptation. During the 4th edition of the African Days of Investment and Employment, dedicated to football as a vector for socio-economic inclusion and organized by the Faculty of Legal, Economic, and Social Sciences-Souissi in Rabat, the president of the Royal Moroccan Football Federation, Fouzi Lekjaa, stated bluntly that Law 30-09 had run its course and that a new version was needed to support the country's sporting development. The main issues first stem from a **discordance with the 2011 Constitution**. Designed before this fundamental revision, Law 30-09 does not explicitly guarantee the right to sports as a citizen's right. It limits associative freedom through a discretionary approval regime, contradicting the constitutional principle of freedom of association enshrined in the 1958 Public Freedoms Code, which remains in force. Similarly, it assigns the State a vague role in regulation and funding, undermining federations' autonomy and exposing them to administrative paralysis. It is also clear that there is **ambiguity in the status of professional athletes**. Despite constitutional recognition of the right to work and social protection, the law defines neither a clear sports contract nor specific protections. This legal vacuum fuels recurrent conflicts between clubs, players, and federations. A **disconnect with modern sports** is also evident. Tied to a bureaucratic and centralized vision, the law ignores international standards and performance- or objective-based governance mechanisms. Professionalization remains incomplete: clubs lack stable legal structures, economic models are precarious, and private investors are discouraged. The role of local authorities remains unclear, despite advanced regionalization, making sports investments dependent on local wills rather than a coherent national framework. The law's rigidity hampers rapid contracting, flexibility for infrastructure, and federations' independence. It generates administrative delays for public-private partnerships, the absence of status for sports companies, and difficulties integrating international norms, thus blocking attractiveness for private capital. One can thus suspect its **incompatibility with FIFA requirements and the 2030 World Cup**. Criticism extends to the education sector with a certain **inadequacy with educational reform**. While Morocco invests in school and university sports, the law omits any systemic integration between schools, universities, clubs, and federations, as well as pathways between mass and elite sports. The law unduly mixes amateur and professional sports, without distinguishing associative management from clubs' commercial activities. Another weakness lies in the definition of concepts and thus the clear assignment of resulting responsibilities. It subjects the associative fabric, the pillar of the sports movement, to excessive oversight, creating legal insecurity and constant workarounds. Finally, it conceives sports as an educational or cultural activity, ignoring its economic potential: sports jobs, sponsorship, broadcasting rights, specific taxation, and job creation. Conceived in a pre-constitutional context, Law 30-09 is today **obsolete, rigid, and partially unconstitutional**. It hinders governance, professionalization, and the sports economy at a time when Morocco is projecting itself toward major global events. The situation thus leads to the need for a new law: modern, aligned with the Constitution, the intent of the 2008 royal letter, the demands of modern sports in line with international bodies, and responsive to the imperatives for the 2030 World Cup, while inventing a new mode of management and administration detached from political timelines. A mission-oriented administration is widely desired. The new law must align with the constitutional framework by clearly defining concepts, enshrining sports as a citizen's right, protecting associative freedom, and clarifying the State's role (framing, funding, audits, performance contracts). It should distinguish between amateur and professional sports, between clubs and associations, and establish full professionalization: professional athlete status, mandatory sports companies for clubs, regulation of private investments. It must enable sports integration into the national economy via a dedicated tax framework, specific investment code, sectoral recognition, and modernization of sponsorship and TV rights. It must harmonize with FIFA 2030 requirements through greater flexibility, regulate infrastructure, and secure major projects. The new law should define the State's responsibilities in training frameworks and required levels, making academic training the foundation of a national system capable of meeting practice demands and society's true needs. It must also specify the role and responsibilities of regions and local authorities in mass sports, proximity infrastructure creation, and supervision—a sort of municipalization of mass physical activities. This long-awaited new law is **urgent, strategic, and essential** to align Moroccan sports with international standards and national ambitions.

CAN 2025 in Morocco: Reflection of a Major Probable Migratory and Social Transformation... 3653

Three weeks before the Africa Cup of Nations in Morocco, it seems appropriate to revisit key insights from the 2024 General Population and Housing Census (RGPH 2024). This event will undoubtedly have a powerful impact on the country's perception, through the positive images it is already broadcasting and, consequently, on future demographic data. The census shows that out of 36.8 million recorded inhabitants, 148,152 people are foreign nationals, representing nearly 0.4% of the total population, an increase of over 76% compared to 2014. Behind this relatively modest figure lies a structural transformation: the rise of Sub-Saharan African migrants, partial feminization of flows, strong urban concentration, and increasingly qualified profiles. Morocco's geographical position and economic evolution have, in a relatively short time, transformed it from a country of emigration into a space of settlement and transit for migrants with varied profiles. The National Strategy on Immigration and Asylum (SNIA), adopted in 2013, along with the regularization campaigns of 2014 and 2017, have established a more inclusive approach in Morocco and better statistical knowledge of the populations concerned. Sub-Saharan African nationals now represent nearly 60% of migrants, compared to about 27% in 2014. The share of Europeans has declined to just over 20%. That of MENA region nationals is only 7%. Morocco's continental anchoring is thus confirmed. In terms of nationalities, Senegal and Côte d'Ivoire account for more than one-third of foreigners, ahead of France, which remains the leading European nationality with nearly 14% of foreign residents. Other countries like Guinea, Mali, Congo-Brazzaville, Cameroon, or Syria complete this panorama. Foreign residents in Morocco are mostly recent arrivals: more than half report arriving since 2021, and more than one-third between 2011 and 2020, testifying to a very recent acceleration of arrivals. A majority of this population will fill the stands during the CAN. Economic motives overwhelmingly dominate: more than 53% of migrants cite work as the main reason, confirming Morocco's role as a regional attraction pole in sectors such as construction, services, agriculture, and the informal economy. Family reasons follow (a little over 20%), reflecting the growing weight of family reunification and medium- to long-term settlement projects, then studies and post-graduation (about 14%), a sign of the country's academic attractiveness to Sub-Saharan students. Humanitarian motives, flight from conflicts, insecurity, racism, or climate change effects—remain numerically minor. Morocco thus appears as a hybrid space where labor migrations, student mobility, family reunifications, and international protection needs coexist. The vast majority of foreign residents live in cities: nearly 95% are settled in urban areas, confirming the role of major agglomerations as entry points and integration spaces. Two regions clearly dominate: Casablanca-Settat, which hosts more than 43% of foreigners, and Rabat-Salé-Kénitra with a little over 19%, though the latter's share has declined compared to 2014 in favor of Casablanca. Nearly 56% of this population are men, but feminization is progressing, particularly among certain nationalities like Ivorian women and Filipinos, who are very present in personal services and domestic work. More than 80% of foreign residents are between 15 and 64 years old, making them essentially a working-age group, with a non-negligible presence of children and a minority of elderly people. Nearly half of people aged 15 and over are single, while a little over 45% are married, showing the coexistence of individual mobility trajectories and stabilized family projects. The education level appears generally high: nearly 39% hold a higher diploma and 28% have reached secondary level. Employed workers are mostly private sector employees, while a minority work as independents, employers, or public sector employees, highlighting the diversity of professional integration modes. The relatively limited share of unemployed may mask forms of underemployment or precariousness in the informal sector. In 2024, more than 71,000 households include at least one foreign resident. About 31% are exclusively composed of foreigners, while about 69% are mixed households combining Moroccans and foreigners, a proportion sharply up from 2014. This rise in mixed households reflects a deepening of residential and social integration, through mixed marriages, welcoming relatives, or shared cohabitations linked to work and studies. In terms of housing, the majority of foreign households live in apartments, followed by modern Moroccan houses, reflecting integration into the ordinary urban fabric rather than segregated housing forms. Exclusively foreign households are overwhelmingly tenants, while mixed households are more often owners or co-owners, highlighting differentiated settlement trajectories based on household composition. The RGPH 2024 results confirm that the foreign presence in Morocco, though numerically limited, now constitutes a structural and lasting fact of society. The youth, the high proportion of active workers, the rise of family and mixed households, as well as the diversification of educational profiles, call for greater coordination between migration policies, urban, social, and educational policies.The major challenges concern valuing the economic and demographic potential of this population, access to education, health, housing, and decent work, and combating discrimination in a context of cultural pluralization. The SNIA mechanisms to meet Morocco's regional and international commitments in migration governance must also evolve. However, these figures and data will likely undergo real evolution in the coming years: the African media focus on the CAN, and later on the World Cup in Morocco, will reveal the country's assets and increase its attractiveness. These two events, through their combined media weight and the impressions reported by the thousands of expected spectators, should play a promotional role for the country. Deep Africa will discover Morocco and the multiple opportunities it offers, both economically and for studies.

A "Future Talents" Visa to Accelerate Morocco's Industrial Transformation? 3323

While President Donald Trump recently imposed a $100,000 tax on new H-1B visa applications for skilled workers in the United States, China, facing a significant shortage of specialized labor in its strategic sectors, has taken the opposite approach by creating a visa dedicated to foreign talents in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) fields. This mechanism, designed to be simple and flexible, aims to fill a deficit of nearly 30 million qualified individuals by facilitating the rapid arrival of foreign experts through streamlined procedures. This represents a entirely new approach emerging in China that could quickly spread. One can imagine that tomorrow, the truly coveted resources will no longer be energy sources or rare earths, but rather heads full of innovative ideas. Faced with these emerging global dynamics, Morocco could consider a similar approach as soon as possible to support its key industrial sectors such as automotive, aeronautics, space, and semiconductors. Imagine a targeted visa system to attract profiles of excellence from recognized international universities and research centers. This innovative visa could rely on several essential pillars: - **Streamlining administrative formalities**: Such a Moroccan visa would allow entry into the territory without a prior work contract, following the Chinese model, providing precious flexibility for both candidates and local innovation incubators. - **Relaxed stay conditions**: It would also offer extended stays, multiple entries, and an accelerated process to facilitate integration into Morocco's industrial and technological hubs. - **Highlighting cutting-edge skills**: By targeting graduates from top schools and research institutes, the kingdom could strengthen its academic partnerships and maximize applied research outcomes. - **Support for strategic sectors**: Automotive expansion would benefit from robotics and AI specialists, aeronautics from advanced materials design experts, space from satellite systems engineers, and semiconductors from nanotechnology engineers. - **Support recruitment by our universities of PhD candidates in cutting-edge fields and incentivize them to settle in Morocco through housing aids, tax breaks, etc.**. Beyond attractiveness, this program has the potential to create a virtuous circle of innovation, where foreign and national talents contribute together to developing a cutting-edge industrial ecosystem that adds value to the Moroccan economy. While such a model is still unprecedented in developing countries, it raises legitimate questions about cultural integration, local competitiveness, or social impacts. However, given the urgent need to fill technical gaps to preserve international competitiveness, this solution could represent a major opportunity to accelerate Morocco's industrial transformation. Morocco faces a major demographic challenge, as everyone knows. Its traditionally young population is gradually heading toward structural aging, which risks affecting the availability of skilled labor in the medium and long term. Anticipating this evolution by welcoming young foreign talents would maintain the country's economic and social vitality. The benefits of such an orientation would be multiple: - **Offsetting the decline in local workforce**: Targeted recruitment of foreign experts would help compensate for the expected drop in young active population, avoiding a critical shortage of skills in major industrial sectors. - **Selective immigration focused on economic efficiency**: This strategy would directly enrich the industrial fabric by promoting innovation, productivity, and qualified job creation, rather than broad openness to less specialized profiles. - **Building an attractive and sustainable environment**: Attracting these excellence profiles today would give Morocco time to develop a favorable ecosystem, including training, research, infrastructure, and social integration, to encourage lasting settlement and knowledge transfer. - **Proactive strategy against demographic challenges**: Rather than passively suffering aging, the country would position itself as an anticipatory actor by leveraging targeted migration policy as a development lever. Inspired by the Chinese approach but adapted to Moroccan specificities, a "future talents" visa could thus become a key lever to attract young foreign graduates and sustainably strengthen the kingdom's strategic industrial sectors. This positioning would prepare the national economy for the challenges of a globalized economy where access to highly qualified labor becomes a central issue. For this strategy to be fully effective, it must be accompanied by integrated welcome policies combining adapted training, cultural coexistence, and social inclusion to create synergies between foreign talents and national forces. Such a bet on human capital would translate a firm will to make Morocco a regional hub for high technology and innovation. This proposed strategy is structured to enhance the fluidity of highly qualified immigrants' arrival and ensure coherence with the country's demographic policy, by energizing integration and knowledge production approaches while highlighting arguments tailored to the Moroccan context. It offers strategic reflection to position Morocco in the global competition for talents and innovative industries, a major challenge at the dawn of the country's demographic and economic issues.

My Father's Pen 3485

​I have known it since I was young. My late father, then a school principal, gave me my first pen when I passed my primary school certificate in June 1966, to replace my dip pen, penholder, and inkwell. ​He taught me how to hold it between my thumb and index finger and how to improve my handwriting in both Arabic and French. ​He taught me to choose the best verb, the best sentence to express my feelings and reveal my emotions of the moment. He instilled in me the art of juggling with the taxonomy of verbs and, subsequently, the choice of the best tense for conjugating them. He never stopped repeating to me that the solemnity of the moment required a faithful reflection of the recount of events, whether actually experienced or imagined. He taught me to reflect on what I was going to write before drafting and consulting. ​He had the art and manner of transmitting his knowledge to me with passion and love. He took all the time for this patiently, never reprimanding me for a spelling mistake or when I rolled my Rs. He knew that by doing so, he succeeded in setting me on the right path for drafting, narration, pronunciation, and written and oral expression. ​I often used to lock myself in my studio, which was located in the garden of our staff housing at the Sidi Amr school in Meknes. ​This is how I began to write short stories, poems, and even love letters to an imaginary beloved. ​I also kept my personal diary. ​My French teacher in the first year, called the observation class, at Moulay Ismail High School, Mr. Rossetti, encouraged me to write. ​My pen was a precious tool for me, allowing me to express everything I felt at that time of my life. For me, it was a way not only to entertain myself but also to consolidate a gift for writing and composing poems. My father supervised what I produced in writing from a distance and had the art and manner of correcting my essays while encouraging me to move forward. ​My "vocabulary" capital grew day by day. ​I had gotten into the habit of writing in one go, without resorting to a draft. ​Now that I am nearing seventy, I continue to write with a disconcerting ease that surprises those around me. ​For me, there is nothing surprising, because I possess genes transmitted by my father, an outstanding teacher and school principal who officiated for more than forty years and who, like me and my brothers and sisters, trained hundreds and hundreds of students. ​May he rest in peace and know that his pen is in good hands. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved November 27, 2025

My Father's Pen 3351

​I have known it since I was young. My late father, then a school principal, gave me my first pen when I passed my primary school certificate in June 1966, to replace my dip pen, penholder, and inkwell. ​He taught me how to hold it between my thumb and index finger and how to improve my handwriting in both Arabic and French. ​He taught me to choose the best verb, the best sentence to express my feelings and reveal my emotions of the moment. He instilled in me the art of juggling with the taxonomy of verbs and, subsequently, the choice of the best tense for conjugating them. He never stopped repeating to me that the solemnity of the moment required a faithful reflection of the recount of events, whether actually experienced or imagined. He taught me to reflect on what I was going to write before drafting and consulting. ​He had the art and manner of transmitting his knowledge to me with passion and love. He took all the time for this patiently, never reprimanding me for a spelling mistake or when I rolled my Rs. He knew that by doing so, he succeeded in setting me on the right path for drafting, narration, pronunciation, and written and oral expression. ​I often used to lock myself in my studio, which was located in the garden of our staff housing at the Sidi Amr school in Meknes. ​This is how I began to write short stories, poems, and even love letters to an imaginary beloved. ​I also kept my personal diary. ​My French teacher in the first year, called the observation class, at Moulay Ismail High School, Mr. Rossetti, encouraged me to write. ​My pen was a precious tool for me, allowing me to express everything I felt at that time of my life. For me, it was a way not only to entertain myself but also to consolidate a gift for writing and composing poems. My father supervised what I produced in writing from a distance and had the art and manner of correcting my essays while encouraging me to move forward. ​My "vocabulary" capital grew day by day. ​I had gotten into the habit of writing in one go, without resorting to a draft. ​Now that I am nearing seventy, I continue to write with a disconcerting ease that surprises those around me. ​For me, there is nothing surprising, because I possess genes transmitted by my father, an outstanding teacher and school principal who officiated for more than forty years and who, like me and my brothers and sisters, trained hundreds and hundreds of students. ​May he rest in peace and know that his pen is in good hands. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved November 27, 2025

My Father's Pen 3413

​I have known it since I was young. My late father, then a school principal, gave me my first pen when I passed my primary school certificate in June 1966, to replace my dip pen, penholder, and inkwell. ​He taught me how to hold it between my thumb and index finger and how to improve my handwriting in both Arabic and French. ​He taught me to choose the best verb, the best sentence to express my feelings and reveal my emotions of the moment. He instilled in me the art of juggling with the taxonomy of verbs and, subsequently, the choice of the best tense for conjugating them. He never stopped repeating to me that the solemnity of the moment required a faithful reflection of the recount of events, whether actually experienced or imagined. He taught me to reflect on what I was going to write before drafting and consulting. ​He had the art and manner of transmitting his knowledge to me with passion and love. He took all the time for this patiently, never reprimanding me for a spelling mistake or when I rolled my Rs. He knew that by doing so, he succeeded in setting me on the right path for drafting, narration, pronunciation, and written and oral expression. ​I often used to lock myself in my studio, which was located in the garden of our staff housing at the Sidi Amr school in Meknes. ​This is how I began to write short stories, poems, and even love letters to an imaginary beloved. ​I also kept my personal diary. ​My French teacher in the first year, called the observation class, at Moulay Ismail High School, Mr. Rossetti, encouraged me to write. ​My pen was a precious tool for me, allowing me to express everything I felt at that time of my life. For me, it was a way not only to entertain myself but also to consolidate a gift for writing and composing poems. My father supervised what I produced in writing from a distance and had the art and manner of correcting my essays while encouraging me to move forward. ​My "vocabulary" capital grew day by day. ​I had gotten into the habit of writing in one go, without resorting to a draft. ​Now that I am nearing seventy, I continue to write with a disconcerting ease that surprises those around me. ​For me, there is nothing surprising, because I possess genes transmitted by my father, an outstanding teacher and school principal who officiated for more than forty years and who, like me and my brothers and sisters, trained hundreds and hundreds of students. ​May he rest in peace and know that his pen is in good hands. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved November 27, 2025

My father's pen 3363

​I have known it since my young age. My late father, then a school principal, offered me my first pen when I passed my primary school certificate in June 1966. He thus taught me how to hold it between my thumb and index finger and to improve my handwriting in both Arabic and French. I often used to lock myself in my studio, which was located in the garden of our official residence at the Sidi Amr school in Meknes. This is how I started writing short stories, poems, and even love letters to an imaginary beloved. I also kept my personal diary. My French teacher in the first year, called the observation class, at Moulay Ismail High School, Mr. Rossetti, encouraged me to write. My pen was a precious tool for me, allowing me to express everything I felt at that time in my life. It was a way for me not only to entertain myself but also to consolidate a gift for writing and composing poems. My father supervised my writings from a distance and had the art and manner of correcting my essays while encouraging me to move forward. My "vocabulary" capital was enriched day after day. I had acquired the habit, to this day, of writing in a single draft without resorting to a rough copy. Now that I am close to seventy years old, I continue to write with a disconcerting ease that surprises those around me. For me, this is not surprising because I possess genes transmitted by my father, an outstanding teacher and school principal who officiated for more than forty years and who, like me and my brothers and sisters, trained hundreds and hundreds of students. May he rest in peace and may he know that his pen is in good hands. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved November 27, 2025

​✍️ My Father's Pen 2953

​I have known it since my young age. My late father, then a school director, gave me my first pen when I successfully passed my primary school leaving certificate in June 1966. He taught me how to hold it between my thumb and forefinger and how to improve my handwriting, both in Arabic and in French. ​He taught me to choose the best verb, the best sentence to express what I felt and to reveal my emotions of the moment. He instilled in me the art of juggling with the taxonomy of verbs and subsequently choosing the best tense for conjugating them. He never stopped repeating to me that the solemnity of the moment required faithfully reflecting the narrative of events truly experienced or imagined. He taught me to think about what I was going to write before drafting and consulting. ​He had the art and the manner of transmitting his knowledge to me with passion and love. He patiently took all the time for this without ever reprimanding me for a spelling mistake or when I rolled my R's. He knew that this way he succeeded in putting me on the right track for drafting, narration, pronunciation, and written and oral expression. ​I often locked myself in my studio, which was in the garden of our official residence at the Sidi Amr school in Meknes. This is how I began to write small stories, poems, and even love letters to an imaginary sweetheart. I also kept my personal diary. ​My French teacher in the first year, called the observation class, at Moulay Ismail high school, Mr. Rossetti, encouraged me to write. My pen was a precious tool for me that allowed me to express everything I felt at that time in my life. It was for me a way not only to distract myself but also to consolidate a gift for writing and composing poems. My father supervised what I produced in writing from a distance and had the art and the manner of correcting my essays while encouraging me to move forward. My "vocabulary" capital grew day by day. I had gotten into the habit, to this day, of writing in one go without resorting to a draft. ​Now that I am nearing seventy, I continue to write with a disconcerting ease that surprises those around me. For me, nothing is astonishing, because I possess genes transmitted by my father, an unparalleled teacher and school director who officiated for over forty years and who, like me and my brothers and sisters, trained hundreds and hundreds of students. ​May he rest in peace and know that his pen is in good hands. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved November 27, 2025

Soccer World Cup 2026: Africa Asserts Itself, the Maghreb Competes, Morocco Confirms... 2953

Mondial 2026 : Africa asserts itself, the Maghreb competes, Morocco confirms... La Coupe du Monde 2026, jointly organized by the États-Unis, le Canada et le Mexique, marks a historic turning point with 48 teams, an unprecedented format, and qualifiers spread over several months, in a football world undergoing rapid change. Beyond technical innovations, a genuine recomposition géopolitique is taking place. Football has become, more than ever, a space where national ambitions, regional strategies, and symbolic rivalries are asserted. In this new chessboard, l’Afrique, and more specifically the Maghreb, occupies a central place. With 9 qualified nations, Africa demonstrates its organization, while the Maghreb asserts itself as the major pole of African football and one of the serious contenders worldwide through Morocco. The list of qualified teams — Morocco, Tunisia, Egypt, Algeria, Ghana, Cape Verde, South Africa, Ivory Coast, and Senegal — offers few surprises except the notable absence of Cameroon and Nigeria. Le Maroc remains the strategic showcase of an assumed national and African soft power. Qualified with ease, the Kingdom confirms a momentum started over a decade ago: high-level infrastructure, planning, policy supported by stable governance, diplomatic projection through football, and successful valorization of the diaspora as a technical and strategic force. Morocco today is a pivot continental, endowed with a global and sustainable strategy: CAN 2025, candidacy for 2030, Coupe du Monde des U17 féminines, increased presence in football governing bodies. Its qualification for Mondial 2026 is not an isolated event but the culmination of a coherent and assumed influence policy. On the other hand, L’Algérie savors its return while painfully feeling the repetitive successes of its Moroccan neighbor. Algerian media, often clumsy, offer questionable explanations for their failures, even invoking conspiracy, supposed Moroccan dominance over CAF, or other more fanciful causes. Having missed Mondial 2022 under harsh circumstances, Algeria approaches this cycle with urgency and pride, trying to restore its international visibility and break out of isolation. Qualifying represents a true marqueur de crédibilité régionale, at a time when the region is experiencing deep political reshuffles. Here, football promotes both national cohesion, currently weakened by recurring supply crises and international credibility deficit, and symbolic competition between neighbors. As for La Tunisie, plagued by political difficulties, it seeks stability through football, betting on consistency as strategy. Structured training, competitive diaspora, effective technical management; Tunisian qualification fits a continuity logic. The country lacks Morocco’s geopolitical projection or Algeria’s scale but holds this precious asset: durabilité. L’Égypte, a demographic and historical giant, makes a strong comeback after several frustrating absences. For Cairo, this qualification is much more than a sporting feat: it is a prestige stratégique, crucial as the country seeks to restore its international image and stabilize its internal scene. With its demographic weight and football culture, Egypt regains the global visibility it considers natural. The joint presence of Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, and Egypt signals a réalignement régional. This bloc, with nearly 200 millions d’habitants, shares geopolitical realities without forming a complementary whole; rather, it is an intra-regional influence battle. Each country projects its image through football: - Morocco through its policy, infrastructure, organization, planning, and powerful sports diplomacy. - Algeria cultivating national prestige and popular symbolism. - Egypt with its demographic weight and cultural influence on the Arab world. - Tunisia through consistency and technical skills. All actually compete for African leadership, football becoming the mirror of their political ambitions: - Who represents Africa at the FIFA? - Who leads the transformation of continental football? - Who sets standards in training and infrastructure? Morocco seems to take an indisputable lead, but Algeria and Egypt remain competitors in this symbolic struggle. National models differ clearly: - Morocco: centralized, planned, long-term vision. - Algeria: emotional, popular, volatile but powerful. - Egypt: massive, institutional, historic. - Tunisia: discreet, stable, technical. Together they now form a zone footballistique cohérente, whose importance on the global stage is unprecedented. Attention now turns to the March playoffs, true theaters of uncertainty and continental stakes. They will offer the last tickets. Their scope goes beyond football: each ticket opens a space for national narrative where sport becomes an identity mirror. Le Mondial 2026 is resolutely geopolitical, and the Maghreb y pèse lourd. For the first time, the region appears both as a concrete bloc and a space of internal rivalries. Four qualified nations in a context where: - Africa gains importance. - FIFA adapts to a multipolar world amid global redefinition. - States use football as a diplomatic instrument. - The Maghreb, in its diversity and division, becomes one of the most dynamic regions of football. This North American tournament will showcase much more than teams: it will expose visions, national narratives, historical rivalries, and regional strategies. A genuine geopolitical battlefield. In this global context, the Royaume du Maroc is no longer a mere bystander: it asserts itself as a central actor, arousing jealousies and fierce rivalries...

Reinventing the Moroccan School: From Transmission to Support... 2938

Moroccans, especially the youth, today express a deep malaise regarding their school system. They have just manifesté this loudly. This reality, now public, appears both in family discussions and institutional assessments as well as societal debates. To compensate for the shortcomings of a public education seen as exhausted, more and more families, informed or affluent, enroll their children in private, sometimes foreign, institutions. The middle class also makes many sacrifices to follow this movement. This phenomenon reflects a crisis of confidence and deepens the social divide: school, promoted as a driver of equality, becomes a marker of inequality. This drift had already been foreseen: on le 1er novembre 1960, Dean Charles André Julien warned Mr. Bennani, Director of the Royal Protocol, about the risks of a poorly conceived reform that would create new problems. Despite considerable investments, successive reforms have often been limited to peripheral aspects: infrastructure, uniforms, superficial pedagogical approaches, vacation schedules. Too often, they resulted from poorly inspired mimicry, entrusted to careless study offices and insufficiently qualified officials. The various reforms have not succeeded and have generated growing dissatisfaction. School dropout rates and different rankings illustrate this distressing situation. If there must be reform, and the urgency is real, it must not concern buildings, student attire, or vacation schedules but focus on the heart of the curriculum, the educational philosophy, and how to consider the roles of the student and teacher. The future belongs to a world where young people create their own jobs; this trend is becoming universal. We live in an unprecedented period in human history, where youth shape their professional and personal trajectories: young people invent their jobs, build their paths, imagine new social models. Today, a Moroccan teenager, diploma or not, can design an application, launch a business, build a community, influence markets, and create unimaginable value for traditional frameworks. The modèle 1337 perfectly illustrates this. Now, young people no longer have mental borders or limits. They express energy made of ambition, technological intuition, cultural openness, and dreams. Meanwhile, the school system remains locked in a 20th-century pattern. The role of school must evolve: it is no longer about transmitting, but about accompanying. The Moroccan school must stop being a place for reciting knowledge now available online. Information is at hand, even for a ten-year-old child. That is not what they expect: sometimes, they doze off in class and at night find the freedom space where they imagine the world they want to live in and build themselves. In technology and language learning, many of them outpace decision-makers and teachers. Young people master English more than what is offered at school and have technological equipment that schools are far from providing. Parents make huge sacrifices for this. Young people prefer a connection over a meal. Young people no longer like school as it is presented to them. Above all, they expect to find there: - someone who listens to them; - someone who believes in their potential; - someone who urges them to dream bigger, dare more, create; - someone who trusts them. School must thus become a space of support, awakening, and life project construction; it must train citizens capable of imagining, innovating, collaborating, taking risks, not just memorizing. For this, the major challenge for the State is training trainers capable of adapting to new realities. It is essential to move from transmitting teachers to mentoring guides. The true reform therefore begins with teachers. Yesterday’s teachers must adopt the role of mentor, guide, catalyst of talents: a mentor who asks questions instead of imposing answers, a companion who helps the student discover themselves, an educator who opens doors rather than erects walls. Training trainers requires a new philosophy: integrating positive psychology, educational coaching, active pedagogies, project building, digital culture, and creativity. Teaching is no longer a transmission profession but accompaniment, with autonomy as the engine of the future. Today, young people do not need financial capital to start but confidence, ideas, and skills. A good connection makes them happy. Their main asset is their mind. Their obstacle is often a lack of encouragement, anxiety over a system that is too rigid, too vertical, too distant from their reality. They are capable of everything except believing in themselves alone. This is where school must intervene, becoming the cocoon where innovative ideas and projects emerge. But to succeed, there must be the political courage to undertake the great reform awaited by youth. Morocco has a historic opportunity to reinvent its education system, not by material renovation, but through intellectual and spiritual transformation. School must become the place for building dreams, accompanying ambitions, and preparing for life through innovation and creation. It must train individuals capable not only of adapting to a changing world but of transforming it a world moving faster than previous generations could imagine. The true reform is the spark, not the concrete. It embodies not walls but minds. It builds not in the past but in the future that our youth aspire to invent, supported by our trust, nothing more.

My father's pen 2896

​I have known it since my young age. My late father, then a school principal, offered me my first pen when I passed my primary school certificate in June 1966. He thus taught me how to hold it between my thumb and index finger and to improve my handwriting in both Arabic and French. I often used to lock myself in my studio, which was located in the garden of our official residence at the Sidi Amr school in Meknes. This is how I started writing short stories, poems, and even love letters to an imaginary beloved. I also kept my personal diary. My French teacher in the first year, called the observation class, at Moulay Ismail High School, Mr. Rossetti, encouraged me to write. My pen was a precious tool for me, allowing me to express everything I felt at that time in my life. It was a way for me not only to entertain myself but also to consolidate a gift for writing and composing poems. My father supervised my writings from a distance and had the art and manner of correcting my essays while encouraging me to move forward. My "vocabulary" capital was enriched day after day. I had acquired the habit, to this day, of writing in a single draft without resorting to a rough copy. Now that I am close to seventy years old, I continue to write with a disconcerting ease that surprises those around me. For me, this is not surprising because I possess genes transmitted by my father, an outstanding teacher and school principal who officiated for more than forty years and who, like me and my brothers and sisters, trained hundreds and hundreds of students. May he rest in peace and may he know that his pen is in good hands. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved November 27, 2025

My father's pen 2908

​I have known it since my young age. My late father, then a school principal, offered me my first pen when I passed my primary school certificate in June 1966. He thus taught me how to hold it between my thumb and index finger and to improve my handwriting in both Arabic and French. I often used to lock myself in my studio, which was located in the garden of our official residence at the Sidi Amr school in Meknes. This is how I started writing short stories, poems, and even love letters to an imaginary beloved. I also kept my personal diary. My French teacher in the first year, called the observation class, at Moulay Ismail High School, Mr. Rossetti, encouraged me to write. My pen was a precious tool for me, allowing me to express everything I felt at that time in my life. It was a way for me not only to entertain myself but also to consolidate a gift for writing and composing poems. My father supervised my writings from a distance and had the art and manner of correcting my essays while encouraging me to move forward. My "vocabulary" capital was enriched day after day. I had acquired the habit, to this day, of writing in a single draft without resorting to a rough copy. Now that I am close to seventy years old, I continue to write with a disconcerting ease that surprises those around me. For me, this is not surprising because I possess genes transmitted by my father, an outstanding teacher and school principal who officiated for more than forty years and who, like me and my brothers and sisters, trained hundreds and hundreds of students. May he rest in peace and may he know that his pen is in good hands. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved November 27, 2025

My father's pen 2794

​I have known it since my young age. My late father, then a school principal, offered me my first pen when I passed my primary school certificate in June 1966. He thus taught me how to hold it between my thumb and index finger and to improve my handwriting in both Arabic and French. I often used to lock myself in my studio, which was located in the garden of our official residence at the Sidi Amr school in Meknes. This is how I started writing short stories, poems, and even love letters to an imaginary beloved. I also kept my personal diary. My French teacher in the first year, called the observation class, at Moulay Ismail High School, Mr. Rossetti, encouraged me to write. My pen was a precious tool for me, allowing me to express everything I felt at that time in my life. It was a way for me not only to entertain myself but also to consolidate a gift for writing and composing poems. My father supervised my writings from a distance and had the art and manner of correcting my essays while encouraging me to move forward. My "vocabulary" capital was enriched day after day. I had acquired the habit, to this day, of writing in a single draft without resorting to a rough copy. Now that I am close to seventy years old, I continue to write with a disconcerting ease that surprises those around me. For me, this is not surprising because I possess genes transmitted by my father, an outstanding teacher and school principal who officiated for more than forty years and who, like me and my brothers and sisters, trained hundreds and hundreds of students. May he rest in peace and may he know that his pen is in good hands. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved November 27, 2025

Reflection 2786

​🧘 Reflection ​Throughout my life, what I ignored as covetousness came to me willingly, without effort. And everything I sought to possess ultimately slipped away from me, despite reinforcements. Life only shows its generosity towards the one who doesn't care and goes without, It humiliates the one who clings to it and holds on relentlessly. The fire that burns the soul is soothed and eventually extinguished by detachment... So detach yourself, for the one who lets go easily ends up possessing. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb November 24, 2025 All rights reserved

Reflection 2945

​Throughout my life, what I ignored as covetousness came to me willingly, without effort. And everything I sought to possess ultimately slipped away from me, despite reinforcements. Life only shows its generosity towards the one who doesn't care and goes without, It humiliates the one who clings to it and holds on relentlessly. The fire that burns the soul is soothed and eventually extinguished by detachment... So detach yourself, for the one who lets go easily ends up possessing. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb November 24, 2025 All rights reserved

Reflection 3054

​🧘 ​Throughout my life, what I ignored as covetousness came to me willingly, without effort. And everything I sought to possess ultimately slipped away from me, despite reinforcements. Life only shows its generosity towards the one who doesn't care and goes without, It humiliates the one who clings to it and holds on relentlessly. The fire that burns the soul is soothed and eventually extinguished by detachment... So detach yourself, for the one who lets go easily ends up possessing. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb November 24, 2025 All rights reserved

Reflection 3068

​ ​Throughout my life, what I ignored as covetousness came to me willingly, without effort. And everything I sought to possess ultimately slipped away from me, despite reinforcements. Life only shows its generosity towards the one who doesn't care and goes without, It humiliates the one who clings to it and holds on relentlessly. The fire that burns the soul is soothed and eventually extinguished by detachment... So detach yourself, for the one who lets go easily ends up possessing. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb November 24, 2025 All rights reserved

Reflection 2984

​🧘 ​Throughout my life, what I ignored as covetousness came to me willingly, without effort. And everything I sought to possess ultimately slipped away from me, despite reinforcements. Life only shows its generosity towards the one who doesn't care and goes without, It humiliates the one who clings to it and holds on relentlessly. The fire that burns the soul is soothed and eventually extinguished by detachment... So detach yourself, for the one who lets go easily ends up possessing. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb November 24, 2025 All rights reserved

Being a doctor...in my generation! 3222

Medicine was an art practiced without flaw by a rare horde of people dedicated to their lauded work, who often remained stuck in the hospital to be that lifeline of oxygen and life. We remained clear-headed. We weren't greedy at all. Our medicine, whatever anyone said, and in all honesty, brought honor and happiness. It was our reason for being. Without it, we would be nothing but poor people, ultimately given over to doubt Dr. Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved

Growing Older: A Joyful Perspective 3458

​Growing older is not a pain in the ass. No offense to the late Bernard Pivot. Growing older is hilarious. I would even go further: Growing older is exciting, it is soothing, it is marvelous, it is fantastic, and it is rather reassuring. Growing older is a boon and an unprecedented opportunity to watch your children grow up and grow old... ​Growing older is a gift from heaven and a blessing from God to enjoy your grandchildren by playing with them, having crazy fun with them, and almost becoming children with them... ​Growing older is marvelous and simply fascinating to keep seeing your childhood friends, to persist in joking with them, and to share memories and adventures experienced together... ​Growing older is an ideal opportunity to discover other cultures, to travel, and to treat yourself again and again... ​Growing older is becoming wise, it is sharing experiences, it is advising the younger and the less young... ​Growing older is helping your neighbor, it is assisting others... ​Growing older is the time to meditate, to dream, and to pray for this world that is becoming crazier and crazier... ​Growing older is expecting nothing from others but responding to the expectations of others... ​Growing older is being serene and confident in the future and never fearing what lies ahead or the bad tomorrows. Growing older is being optimistic and always seeing the glass as half full. ​Growing older is having faith and believing in the goodness of God, who alone programs all things. ​Growing older is defying age and its wrinkles and its share of weaknesses, illnesses, and crises... ​Growing older is facing life and its uncertainties... ​Growing older is waiting patiently and serenely for the sound of one's own knell (or funeral bell)... ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb May 8, 2024 All rights reserved

When Morocco’s Greatest Match Becomes Its Worst Mirror… 4293

The Casablanca derby, the supreme celebration of Moroccan football, meant to take place at least twice each season, has turned into a sad reflection of our collective failings. What should have been a hymn to the passion of football has become a march toward shame: the shame of not respecting the most basic alphabet of the game, of civility, of respect for others, and of the rules of the Federation and FIFA. The latest edition, in particular, offered yet another all-too-familiar scene: flares, clashes, the throwing of incendiary objects, destruction of public and private property, and a match repeatedly interrupted. The green rectangle, once a sanctuary for the game and the players’ sporting performance, is now held hostage by the pyromania of the stands and the forced complacency toward behavior that is beyond disturbing. This time, the sheer number of flares was so staggering that it raises countless questions: Who sells them? Who ignites them? And how are they so regularly smuggled into stadiums? Who benefits from turning the Casablanca derby into a footballing wasteland? It is no longer a football match, it is a war zone, a scene of spectacular movie-like special effects imported into the terraces. In the name of the club’s flag, common sense has been cast aside. Raja and Wydad, two monuments of our sport, are being manipulated, overtaken, hijacked, and exploited by crowds who confuse fervor with fury, believing they defend their colors while trampling the honor of the beautiful game. In the name of the club’s supposed love, we end up defending obscure causes far removed from the essence of the clubs themselves — if such an essence still exists. It has become a kind of grandstand ultra-nationalism. Some groups have set themselves up as militias of the stadiums. They control the stands, impose their laws, and enforce their violence. They now even dictate the rhythm of the matches, play begins when they allow it and stops when they decree it. Their tifos are glorified, but few dare name their excesses for what they are. Yet behind the choreographies, sometimes splendid, sometimes tasteless, lie preparations worthy of a battlefield: sharp objects, stones, illegally imported flares and explosives, coded mobilization calls, and incitements to confront all that represents order. Insults to institutions, fake news, subversive slogans, everything mixes together with no restraint or shame: a volatile cocktail of social grievances and barely veiled political activism. Even foreign policy and the country’s international positions are dragged into it. So much for the common good, the good of the entire nation. Club officials feign surprise or hide away, waiting for the storm to pass, as if smashed buses, bent gates, and toxic smoke were accidents of fate. The authorities design strategies and take precautions, yet repeatedly face dangerous overflows. Their stance is paternalistic at best: as if dealing only with unruly children. The ringleaders, meanwhile, stay safely out of reach, though some are visible, even stepping onto the pitch to stir up and inflame the crowds. As for the Federation, it responds with fines and closed-door matches, the same administrative ritual that no longer frightens anyone. Has football been taken hostage? The consequences are disastrous: interrupted matches, financial sanctions, and a tarnished international image. Morocco, once celebrated for its popular fervor, now offers the image of a sick football, where passion blurs into madness. These outbursts kill the game, stifle talent, and drive away families who once dared to attend matches. In a country where football is almost a religion, it is heartbreaking to see the temples of sport turned into lawless zones. Children who once dreamed of the derby as a founding myth now see only ritualized chaos, a folklore of wreckage. Some may even join in, believing this is simply “how it is.” But should we resign ourselves and admit a failure of courage? It is not club rivalry that is to blame, but our collective inability to civilize it. It was not always like this. The problem does not lie in the chants, but in what we tolerate in the name of passion. Stadium violence is, above all, born of silence: the silence of clubs unwilling to alienate their supporters; the silence of media that prefer to glorify the atmosphere rather than denounce its excesses; and the silence of authorities forced to maintain order alone before a crowd they were never meant to manage, unlike elsewhere. By failing to choose and only punishing after the fact, we have allowed *charhabe* to settle in as a tolerated subculture, a norm, a distorted identity. The derby should not be a test of strength but a celebration of the city, of talent, and of the players’ pursuit of excellence on the field. Yet the myth of the derby must survive, because beneath the rage lies a truth: the Wydad–Raja rivalry is one of the most beautiful stories in African, perhaps even world football. It has inspired generations, forged careers, and given birth to songs and dreams. But this tradition will not survive if it continues to sink into hatred and absurdity. The derby deserves better. Casablanca deserves better. Morocco deserves a football where passion does not mean madness, where the color of a jersey does not justify brutality and violence. If nothing changes, the kingdom’s greatest match may soon become its greatest scandal: **the Derby of Smoke.**

Leïla Slimani: when words spoken to please betray the reality of an entire country civilisation... 4626

The recent statements by the writer Leïla Slimani, Moroccan to us, Franco-Moroccan on television programs, have not gone unnoticed at all. Leïla Slimani made a particularly pointed remark regarding Moroccan women and mothers that sparked a strong controversy going beyond simple differences of opinion. Leïla was among the guests on the show "Tout le monde en parle". A show that survived its creator Thiery Ardisson, in Quebec but not in France. The statements in question, perceived as condescending and disconnected from the social and cultural realities of Morocco, deeply offended many Moroccan women. Especially those who, like her, write in French and consume cultural programs in French. They did not let her remarks pass, far from it. Many responded to her. Some more harshly than others. She received backlash like never before in her life. The reactions were measured, reasoned, and blunt even if politely delivered. Some were real lessons addressed to someone who truly deserved a strong reminder. All reminded her that many mothers, constrained by difficult conditions, have raised their children with courage, dignity, and a keen sense of values, and today refuse that their commitment be reduced to simplistic clichés or one-sided judgments whose only purpose is to create buzz on television sets. On social networks and in public spaces, the reaction was unanimous and passionate. Moroccan women, at least those who spoke, firmly rejected the stereotypical vision inflicted on them, denouncing a sometimes moralistic and westernized posture that ignores the complexity and richness of their experience. Their role can neither be reduced nor caricatured, as it is fundamental in the construction of Moroccan society, itself evolving but deeply rooted in its traditions, resilience, and unique identity. The sentence where Leïla Slimani speaks of revenge as a value that mothers would teach their children, girls in particular, does not pass and will not pass. She cited her own grandmother as an example, absent to contradict her... This expression is truly inappropriate as well as misleading. The opposite is true: one of the fundamental values of Moroccan society is precisely forgiveness. Forgiveness is taught and lived daily in social relations here. Life revolves around forgiveness. The word forgiveness in darija is uttered dozens of times a day by everyone here. *Lalla Leila, do we really need to remind you that Moroccan culture is not nourished by resentment, and even less by revenge, but by a demand: a demand for respect and nuance.* Today, Moroccan society is progressing, but it firmly rejects external judgments imposed without a deep understanding of the local context, whether religious or cultural. As a public figure representing Morocco on the international stage, if you please, you should show greater prudence and empathy in your remarks. Speaking a truth is one thing, inventing it is another, especially since the context was not fiction but a widely viewed program. This controversy highlights a persistent symbolic fracture between a certain elite living abroad and the real Morocco, the one that lives, struggles, and moves forward at its own pace, certainly, but makes true progress. Criticism is legitimate, questioning is salutary, but it must always be done with rigor, responsibility, and above all respect. Public speech must never humiliate nor infantilize Moroccan women, and even less in their essential and vital role: raising new generations. Morocco is not frozen in stereotypes. Moroccan women, whether lawyers, entrepreneurs, teachers, artists, workers, artisans, or stay-at-home mothers, lead every day, in the shadows of essential battles, based on a quiet strength worthy of admiration. Their modernity is an inner, patient, and authentic process that has nothing to envy from imported discourse. Their future lies in their hands and will not be shaped by words uttered here or there just to impress an audience eager for primitive orientalism. Beyond that, this affair broadly reveals the difficulty some Moroccans of the diaspora face to reconcile distance and sensitivity towards their country of origin. This is the bridge needed for dialogue, based on sincere listening and respectful sharing of experiences. Through this misstep, Leïla Slimani showed how a disconnected word can deeply hurt, especially when it comes from one of our own. And if the phrase pronounced by Leïla Slimani only reflected her personal feeling and perhaps a repressed desire for revenge linked to her family past. Her father, the late Othmane Slimani, a prominent economist who was once minister and bank boss, went through a real downfall, accused of malfeasance. He succumbed to lung cancer before the end of the judicial process, having appealed a first ruling condemning him in first instance. It must nevertheless be recognized that it was under his presidency of the Fédération Royale Marocaine de Football that the Moroccan National Football Team won the only African title it holds to this day. That was in 1976. Moroccans have never forgotten this epic and still thank Si Slimani, the selector Mehdi Belmejdoub, coach Mardarescu, and the players of the time led by Ahmed Faras. Madam Slimani, who deserves respect for who she is, must simply understand that Morocco does not ask for lessons, but for genuine understanding and respectful dialogue to support its transformation and the great progress made. Spreading nonsense and ideas that don’t match its history, the values of its citizens, and even less those of its women, does not honor a writer who aspires to make history. Many before her have tried the same path in their quest to be more royalist than the king; none succeeded. Morocco can be left, but it never leaves us, and that is why it must be respected. **Morocco is certainly about good food, good drink, but not about revenge.** This is my response to Leïla Slimani, on behalf of my mother, my grandmother, and all the mothers and grandmothers, if they would allow me...

Morocco, this quiet conviction that still needs to be shared... 4887

The saying "One who believes in himself has no need to convince others" is commonly translated into French as "Celui qui croit en lui-même n’a pas besoin de convaincre les autres". It evokes a quiet confidence, inner strength, and the stability of one who moves forward without ostentatious display. This idea finds a particular resonance in present-day Moroccan reality: a country confident in the course it has set, proud of its multiple and diverse advances, convinced of its diplomatic legitimacy, strong in its alliances and international roots. However, it faces a major internal challenge: persuading its own youth, even a large part of its population, of the meaning and scope of its progress and achievements. Winning the trust of the youth, and thereby enabling them to gain confidence in themselves and a shared, radiant, and prosperous future, is a true work in progress. Moroccan diplomacy, an example of affirmed confidence, demonstrates an unashamed resolution facing any trial. It is characterized by unwavering determination, both decisive and pragmatic. Internationally, Morocco displays recognized strategic serenity. Under the Royal impulse, its diplomacy based on dialogue and continuity stands as a model of balance between cooperation, firmness, and self-confidence. At the UN, for example, Morocco’s proposal of autonomy in the Sahara issue has become a normative reference, accepted by nearly all international partners. This diplomatic success perfectly illustrates the saying. Confident in its correctness, Morocco did not need to resort to excessive demonstrations to impose its position. Pragmatism, patience, endurance, and determination are the watchwords on this matter. Today, Minister Bourita and Omar Hilal, the Kingdom’s ambassador to the UN, are even seen as stars and are sought after as such at every public appearance, so convincing and credible are they. But is it the same in all fields and sectors? Beyond the Moroccan Sahara issue, the Kingdom is deploying active economic and parliamentary diplomacy, weaving a solid network of alliances in Africa, Europe, the Middle East, and progressively in Latin America and Asia. This partnership-based strategy illustrates this "conviction tranquille" which seeks less to convince than to consolidate achievements. Renewed agreements with the European Union or strengthened cooperation with China, India, Brazil, African countries, and others demonstrate the solidity of this approach. Yet beyond that, Morocco endures a striking paradox. Its most urgent internal challenge is to regain, perhaps even build, the trust of its youth. Confidence in themselves first and foremost, but also confidence in the country. This confidence shown outwardly and perceived positively internally contrasts with the impatience and skepticism of some Moroccan youth towards other aspects of life. Faced with socio-economic challenges such as unemployment, insecurity, and the perceived slowness of reforms, many young people express deep doubt about their future. Alongside the endemic weakness in communication, the poverty of arguments, the apathy of official media, and the excesses of many others, young people often also endure nihilistic discourse spread by some media voices or social networks, which undermines their confidence and fuels disengagement and fatalism. This paradox of a state confident on the world stage but constantly needing to convince internally lies at the heart of the situation. Despite government efforts to improve employment and public services, recurring individual or collective protests reflect this malaise—a deficit in civic and chronic confidence. How can Morocco then revive common faith and evolve this paradigm? It seems essential to invest in authentic dialogue with youth so that they fully feel the scope and benefits of the progress made. Initiatives such as renewed civic education programs, support for youth entrepreneurship—especially in rural areas—thorough revision of the school curriculum, and increased youth participation in decision-making bodies are some examples underway or to be developed. The easing of certain regulations regarding taxation, currency exchange, e-commerce, business operations, and digital currencies would surely open up new horizons for this connected youth, eager for success. This would certainly increase this much sought-after confidence capital, crucial today. Why not immediately take the measures that will inevitably be taken in ten years? Then it will be too late. Moroccan youth want to undertake and live at the pace of the world. The saying "Celui qui croit en lui-même n’a pas besoin de convaincre les autres" would thus become a call to reinvent the bond between the State and its youth: create a collective energy of confidence, not only manifested outwardly but also lived and felt inwardly, to build a shared future. This seems to have started today. Recent decisions by the Council of Ministers to encourage youth to join institutions, through the revision of the organic law of the House of Representatives, bear witness to this. Lowering the youth age cap from 40 to 35 is a major advance. The possibility for young people to run in elections without party affiliation, as well as the promised financial support for non-partisan youth, are strong incentives against the lethargy that had long taken hold in Moroccan political life. The matter is settled: either political parties open up to youth, or they will be condemned to occupy only backbencher seats. If young people get involved, they will participate in the change they dream of and impose it. Their level of confidence will only increase. Now, let us wait for the parliamentary debates that will finalize all this. This is an important criterion: for once, we will have a law adopted about nine months ahead of elections. Provided no one throws a wrench in the works. Only then will confidence be built, like a transparent, inclusive, participatory, and lasting foundation. One clarification though, the phrase "One who believes in himself has no need to convince others" is generally attributed to Lao Tzu (or Laozi), the Chinese sage and founder of Taoism. However, it is not authenticated as an excerpt from the Tao Te Ching. No matter, the saying takes on its full meaning here anyway.

The Emerging Political Maturity of Moroccan Youth: A Legacy of GENZ212 5141

The waning of the GENZ212 movement does not signal the end of a generation searching for meaning. It should mark the beginning of the political maturity of a youth until now seen as sidelined or completely uninterested. Between legitimate frustrations, institutional responses, and obvious possibilities of manipulation of which it may be unaware, Moroccan youth is entering a decisive turning point: moving from protest to construction. Recent decisions by the Council of Ministers to include youth more substantially in political life explain well a fading movement and a generation now questioning itself. The ball is clearly in their court now. They know Morocco will not be made without them and is being made for them. Born in the digital sphere, GENZ212 ignited social networks and mobilized a youth eager for change. Its energy, initially spontaneous, naive, and sincere, now clashes with reality: lack of a clear, common vision, unclear leadership, and attempts at takeover by opportunistic extremes who saw a golden opportunity and believed it could not be missed. The momentum quickly weakened, as in any protest based on hollow slogans without clear contours or precise content, but the question remains: what remains of this anger? The country responded quickly and seriously. The institutional response manifested rapidly. The calm and firmness of the royal speech at the opening of the current Parliament's last legislative session and the 2026 finance bill a few days later redefined priorities around health, education, and social cohesion. Record highs were set for education and health. By integrating youth expectations into public action, the crisis was defused. Morocco, as always, chose listening and reform over confrontation. The trap of manipulation thus quickly closed around these promoters... In other arenas, some tried to rekindle the flame. The call to boycott the Africa Cup of Nations, for example, illustrates this: presented as a protest gesture, it quickly revealed ambiguities and also some frustration over extremists’ failure. The majority of citizens quickly condemned the boycott promoters, ridiculing them. Many observers concluded it was a political or even geopolitical takeover attempt. The overzealousness of Algerian media in trying to heat up the scene confirms and justifies this suspicion. Some even claim the recent protests are no longer a heartfelt cry but an echo of external agendas. As a result, several young former supporters distanced themselves from the movement. "We wanted change, not to become a tool in invisible hands," say early activists on social media. Recent innovations encouraging youth to take the political step toward institutions, combined with the historic importance of budgets allocated to health and those planned for education, have shifted the mindset of most young people from protest to building. As always, rooted in history, faced with drift, the Moroccan state has always favored stability and dialogue. This pragmatic approach continues a deeply rooted tradition: responding to unrest with concrete policies, not empty speeches or sugary promises. Throughout its modern history, the Kingdom has always known the real power of youth is to build, not boycott. Morocco is not undone by despair; it is built through commitment. GENZ212 served as a revealer, expressing the aspirations of youth wanting to be heard without being manipulated, actors without being instrumentalized, a youth standing up on behalf of their parents and society as a whole. Today, through its calm, it reveals a political consciousness in gestation to which the state wants to contribute by encouraging it to take the step toward representative institutions. Thus, the anger and demands of this generation will no longer be expressed in the streets or covertly, nor quickly taken over by those who confuse freedom of expression with destabilization. This, of course, while awaiting the day their children will come to shake things up and push them out of their comfort zones, in turn. In a fragile and uncertain regional context, national cohesion remains the essential bulwark. Moroccan youth seems to have quickly understood and integrated this. A true passage into maturity. Morocco progresses, sometimes slowly, but surely, combining reform and stability, youth and responsibility. GENZ212 is not a failure but a step. That of a generation that understands real change does not improvise on social media but inscribes itself in the long term, through action, listening, and participation. Resisting today means refusing to be manipulated. It means building one’s country lucidly, not against it. Morocco thus enters a new phase where youth becomes consciousness, no longer a force of rupture but an engine of balance. This is, ultimately, the quiet revolution, a Moroccan evolution throughout its modern history. This is a particularity that only Moroccans can understand: protest, listen, dialogue, respond, combine, project, and envision oneself are the key words. Being Moroccan is a belief. Staying united is a faith. Defending the country is a devotion. It has been this way for millennia.

The compagnonnage, a forgotten path for reintegrating young NEETs... 5378

If there is a situation requiring a quick, very quick response, it is that of the NEETs. These young people will not just disappear. As they get older, their problems, and therefore ours, will become increasingly difficult to manage and contain. The government must find sustainable solutions to reintegrate these young people who are neither employed nor in education or training, the famous NEET: Not in Employment, Education or Training. An old path could prove surprisingly modern: le compagnonnage. Inherited from artisanal traditions, this form of direct apprenticeship, which has proven itself throughout our history, has not been abandoned elsewhere. In many European countries, workshop-based learning is a cornerstone of vocational training. The idea should inspire a new Moroccan model of integration and skills transmission, restoring meaning to learning through contact with crafts. Not so long ago, this was the case even for some modern trades: hairdressing, mechanics, and others. It is time to rethink all this and also to look at what happens elsewhere in countries where childhood and its rights are perfectly protected, but where learning a trade in a workshop is not forbidden, in fact, quite the opposite. In Switzerland or Germany, the so-called "dual" system combines theoretical teaching and practical experience in a company. It enables young people to acquire a recognized qualification while participating in the productive life of the country. It is, for example, the essential pillar of Swiss excellence in watchmaking. This learning model values transmission and the accuracy of gestures, and helps keep manual and artisanal professions alive while reducing youth unemployment. Yet today, it is clear that many traditional Moroccan trades are in decline and risk disappearing due to a lack of Maâlems. Le compagnonnage places the relationship between master and apprentice at the heart of the training, along with mobility between workshops and the creation of masterpieces in which the apprentice proudly participates and sees their efforts realized, with client appreciation being the sole measure of evaluation. Vocational schools cannot offer such an emotional connection to trades. Le compagnonnage values patience, excellence, and pride in one’s craft, values that resonate with Moroccan artisanal culture. In Morocco, the situation is surprisingly paradoxical. Policies combating child labor have certainly made spectacular progress: the number of working minors has dropped by nearly 94% in twenty years. But the legislation, in its protective zeal, does not clearly distinguish illegal work from supervised apprenticeship. The result is unequivocal: workshops where knowledge of wood, leather, or metal was once passed on are closing one after another, unable to welcome apprentices without breaking the law, while hundreds of thousands of young people are abandoned to the street and its risks. This confusion between "exploitation" and "practical training" deprives hundreds of young people today of a genuine path to apprenticeship and weakens an entire sector of the national artisanal heritage. To quickly reclaim this historic force for absorbing NEETs, a revised, flexible legal framework is urgent. Once again, the lesson can come from Europe. International comparisons can offer valuable insight. In Switzerland, vocational training relies on a true alliance between schools, businesses, and local authorities. Apprenticeship is valued as a path to excellence. Young people have the opportunity and good fortune to alternate between classes and workshop practice. They gain solid experience and obtain a recognized federal certificate. This system ensures rapid integration into the labor market while guaranteeing clear protection for minors and institutional recognition of the apprentice status. The result of this pragmatism is that manual and artisanal trades remain alive and respected. In Germany, the dual model also combines theoretical training and work-based apprenticeship. It allows young people to enter the workforce early with protected and supervised status. The system is recognized for its ability to prevent youth unemployment and maintain a high level of technical skill, especially in industrial and artisanal trades. Morocco, by contrast, still struggles to structure this link between apprenticeship and training. Artisanal apprenticeship remains largely informal, subject to restrictive legislation that tends to confuse formative supervision with illegal labor. While protection for minors is generally strong, it remains unclear when it comes to practical training. This results in unequal integration of young people depending on the sector, while many traditional trades that create wealth are now threatened with disappearance due to lack of successors. The guiding philosophy of the necessary reform today should be the rehabilitation of the Maalem's role. Fortunately, Morocco still has a priceless asset: its network of master artisans, or Maâlems, guardians of centuries-old traditions in ironwork, jewelry, carpentry, and pottery. Giving these masters a legal and formative place would be a first step toward creating a Moroccan compagnonnage, adapted to local realities and oriented towards modernity. This would require reforming child labor laws to distinguish structured apprenticeship from precarious work and creating institutional bridges between traditional crafts and formal vocational training programs. This is a future path for young NEETs and these thousands of out-of-school Moroccan youth. Apprenticeship with a Maalem is not a step backward but a modern reinvention of the link between knowledge, work, and dignity. The Maâlems is a master, an educator, a transmitter of strong values. And let us not forget that this is how Fès was an industrial city, how Marrakech has kept an authenticity giving it its unique charm, how Ouarzazate is Ouarzazate, and how Chefchaouen is Chefchaouen. Framed by the state, recognized by institutions, and supported by local incentives, this model could help restore hope to a youth searching for meaning, while preserving the heritage trades that form Morocco’s cultural wealth, which sets it apart and makes it strong. In every apprentice, there is the seed of a good citizen; in every apprentice lies a small or medium enterprise.