Think Forward.

L’ombre du nihilisme dans le discours politique marocain 2644

Suite à mon article précédent paru dans l’ODJ, sur le nihilisme ambiant au Maroc et ses conséquences désastreuses, un ami m’a fait remarquer que je n’avais pas suffisamment illustré comment le langage politique pouvait nourrir et entretenir une ambiance délétère, une ambiance de malaise, voire de mal être. Je viens donc ici m’exercer à combler cette lacune en proposant un exemple concret et risquer une analyse plus approfondie. Le langage politique nihiliste a une véritable histoire au Maroc. Dans les années 1960 et 1970, une gauche marocaine subversive exploitait un vocabulaire puissant pour dénoncer ce qu’elle appelait : la « corruption », la « dictature » et l'« istibdad » (الاستبداد, « tyrannie »). Ces mots cristallisaient une profonde rupture entre l’État et une partie de la population, instaurant un climat de méfiance et de rejet. L’enrichissement personnel et l’entrepreneuriat étaient alors perçus négativement, associés à l’exploitation des travailleurs. L’enrichissement était systématiquement assimilé au vol et au détournement de fonds publics devant revenir à tous. Dans les années 1990, ce discours a été remplacé sur le terrain par celui de l’islam politique. Les islamistes ont introduit une morale religieuse « stricte » qu’ils présentent habilement comme salutaire, comme nouveau standard, dénonçant la corruption et les maux sociaux par le terme générique « alfassad » (الفساد). Ce vocable vague, mais lourd de connotations négatives, est utilisé pour condamner sans nuance toute manifestation jugée déviante au sens de la morale islamiste, installant un climat général de suspicion et de peur. Ils n’hésitent pas à convoquer des mythes invérifiables sur les comportements d’ancêtres, auxquels ils accordent toutes les vertus. En réalité, ils cherchent à se positionner comme leur réincarnation. Nombreux sont les exemples contemporains de langage nihiliste dans le discours politique marocain utilisant des expressions vagues mais à très fort impact politique et social. Le regard décrypté sur le langage politique marocain contemporain montre comment certains termes et expressions contribuent à ancrer un nihilisme destructeur. Dans le débat public actuel, ce vocabulaire persiste, alimentant le fatalisme. Par exemple, certains responsables politiques insistent sur une hypothétique faiblesse structurelle du pays en utilisant un discours centré sur la « faillite » économique, la « corruption envahissante » et un « système bloqué ». Ces expressions, sans nuance, réduisent le Maroc à un échec chronique, occultant les progrès réels et les avancées plus que palpables. On retrouve ce style dans les critiques répétées concernant les services publics de santé ou l’éducation notamment, perçus comme des «catastrophes » ou des « terrains d’échec systémique », alors que les données montrent une amélioration significative malgré les faiblesses. En fait, il n’y a pas un seul exemple dans le monde où les gens sont à 100% satisfaits d’un quelconque système de santé. Un exemple est le discours populiste islamiste des années 2010-2020, qui s’est souvent présenté comme le « sauveur » moral face à la « corruption » généralisée, utilisant la peur et la stigmatisation pour mobiliser. C'est ou "nous" ou la débâcle. Ce discours, bien qu’émotionnellement fort, a fini par exacerber la crise politique en alimentant la défiance généralisée, envers toutes les institutions politiques. Le terme « alfassad » (الفساد) était omniprésent dans ce lexique, utilisé pour qualifier tout opposant ou acteur social dans des termes négatifs non spécifiques, renforçant un sentiment d’impuissance collective. En filigrane, il allait jusqu'à désigner les institutions pour responsables. Ce langage n’est pas sans conséquences. Ce type d’usage du langage politique produit un cercle vicieux. En stigmatisant sans proposer de solutions concrètes, en calant les oppositions dans des catégories morales polarisantes, il mine la confiance des citoyens dans leurs institutions. La jeunesse se désengage désemparée, tandis que l’entrepreneuriat et l’investissement pâtissent d’un climat méfiant. Est alors arrivée la Constitution de 2011 comme point de rupture avec une époque révolue. On pouvait penser et surtout espérer que le langage allait évoluer et qu’enfin on allait aussi changer de lexique. Le parti arrivé en tête des élections en 2011 a eu dix ans de gouvernement mais n’a pu se détacher de ses réflexes anciens. Le chef de gouvernement lui-même n’est pas parvenu à se dégager d’un certain langage d’opposant. L’approche radicale consistant à réduire le Maroc à un État « en faillite », à un système « corrompu jusqu’à la moelle » ou à une société « désabusée » détourne l’attention des marges de progrès et d’innovations réelles. Cela favorise la résignation et la paralysie collectives, caractéristique majeure d’un nihilisme politique qui avance masqué, derrière un vocabulaire anxiogène. Un tel langage séduit et cristallise facilement les esprits. La sortie de la génération Z est là pour responsabiliser les hommes politiques marocains. Plutôt que d’exploiter la grogne et jouer aux héros, comme tentent de le faire certains, il convient de se comporter en hommes et femmes responsables. L’urgence est d’aller vers un autre langage politique véritablement responsable et constructif. Seule une évolution vers un discours lucide mais positif peut espérer inverser cette tendance lourde. Pour dépasser ce nihilisme, il est crucial que les élites politiques abandonnent le vocabulaire de la stigmatisation et adoptent un discours plus équilibré. Ils se doivent de reconnaître les difficultés sans annihiler l’espoir, valoriser les avancées et proposer des solutions concrètes aux insuffisances, voilà le chemin pour rétablir la confiance. Le Maroc a besoin d’un langage politique responsable, constructif et mobilisateur, capable de réconcilier la population avec l’État et de stimuler l’engagement citoyen dans le cadre constitutionnel et dans le respect des institutions. C’est cela aussi l’État de droit où chacun s’acquitte de ses responsabilités, les citoyens en tête, car finalement les institutions et les partis politiques sont aussi constitués de citoyens.
Aziz Daouda Aziz Daouda

Aziz Daouda

Directeur Technique et du Développement de la Confédération Africaine d'Athlétisme. Passionné du Maroc, passionné d'Afrique. Concerné par ce qui se passe, formulant mon point de vue quand j'en ai un. Humaniste, j'essaye de l'être, humain je veux l'être. Mon histoire est intimement liée à l'athlétisme marocain et mondial. J'ai eu le privilège de participer à la gloire de mon pays .


10200

33.0

April 6: The Moroccan Idea That Conquered the World... 282

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

Mediterranean: The Great Erasure of the Amazigh in Eurocentric Historical Narrative... 779

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