The 2025 Africa Cup of Nations (CAN) vs FIFA: Should Africa Always Settle for a Secondary Role? 267
Just days before the kickoff of la CAN 2025 au Maroc, a FIFA decision reignites an old debate: the real consideration given to African competitions within the global football structure. By reducing the mandatory release period for African players by European clubs to à cinq jours seulement, the world football governing body again seems to favor those same clubs… to the detriment of African national teams.
This measure, seemingly technical at first glance, speaks volumes about the implicit hierarchy in world football and the true place FIFA continues to reserve for the African continent.
How can a major competition like la CAN, a flagship event in African football, watched by hundreds of millions, and an important economic, social, and political driver in the region, be seriously prepared with only cinq jours de rassemblement? No team, anywhere in the world or on any continent, can build tactical cohesion, assimilate game plans, develop automatisms, or even physically recover in such a short time.
It is therefore legitimate to ask:
- Is this a rational measure?
- Or a decision that trivializes la CAN, as if this competition deserves neither respect nor optimal conditions?
- Or could it be structural discrimination against Africa?
But the fundamental question remains the same. It is not new: is world football truly equal?
The decision on player release is only the visible part of a larger system, where les compétitions et les équipes africaines are structurally disadvantaged.
Take FIFA rankings as an example, which determine the pot placements for major competition draws. Points depend on the level of opponents faced. A team playing mainly in Africa will mechanically face lower-ranked teams, thus earning fewer points, even when winning. Conversely, a European team, with higher-ranked opponents, gains more points even with similar results.
This system maintains a cercle fermé: the best ranked stay at the top, the lower ones remain stuck at the bottom. Where then is the promised meritocracy? The ranking openly dictates the World Cup path.
The recent decision to guarantee that the quatre meilleures équipes mondiales do not meet before the 2026 World Cup semi-finals is a major turning point. This means the already biased ranking now plays a crucial role in the very structure of the competition. We have even seen the draw master, probably connected by earpiece to a decision-maker, place teams in groups without explaining why…
This openly protects the giants and locks others into a calculated destiny.
It is a logic of preserving the powerful, typical of a system where sport, apparently universal, bows to economic and media imperatives of major markets.
This raises the question: is FIFA an institution funded… by those it marginalizes? A paradox emerges:
- States, especially in developing countries, are the primary investors in football: infrastructure, academies, stadiums, subsidies, competitions. La CAN est une affaire de ces États.
- National football, notably the World Cup between nations, is FIFA’s most lucrative product.
- The emotion, history, and prestige of football largely come from the nations, not clubs.
- Yet, it is les clubs européens, entités privées ou associations who seem to dictate the conditions.
African federations, essential contributors of the global talent pool, players, skills, audiences, and emerging markets, find their room to maneuver much reduced.
Is Africa highly valued as a supplier of talents, but not as a decision-making actor? This situation echoes a well-known pattern on the continent:
Produce raw material, but let value-added happen elsewhere.
In football as in the global economy, Africa trains, supplies, feeds, but often remains spectator when it comes to governance, revenues, interests, or influence.
Instead of being seen as a strategic pillar of the global calendar, La CAN is treated as a logistical complication, even though a continental competition cannot progress if constantly relegated to second place.
Football in certain regions only advances through regional and continental competitions. These form objectives for most teams and are sometimes the only visibility opportunity for some nations.
Again, this raises the question: is world football truly democratized?
FIFA presents itself as an inclusive house, guarantor of equity, solidarity, and development. In theory, yes. In practice, the scales tip heavily to one side.
Recent decisions reveal an organization focused on protecting the immediate interests of football’s economic powers, mainly in Europe, to the detriment of sporting fairness.
So, should we keep pretending?
Should Africa be content to applaud, stay silent, and provide its players like a product in the global market? Isn’t the time ripe for une affirmation africaine?
The 2025 CAN, organized in Morocco, with all the effort and resources invested, could become a turning point. Morocco’s dedication deserves respect. It demonstrates that the continent has the means, modern infrastructure, massive audiences, and world-class talent, but lacks recognition and du poids dans les décisions.
It is time that FIFA treats African competitions with the respect they deserve. Not out of charity or rhetoric, but out of justice, coherence, and because world football cannot continue ignoring a continent that remains one of its main human and cultural engines.
Africa is undoubtedly proud to be part of FIFA, but the strapontin no longer suits it. Africans themselves no longer tolerate the contempt.