Think Forward.

Guterres snobe Attaf à Luanda : l’ONU rompt avec l’impolitesse algérienne sur le Sahara 1523

Lors du sommet Afrique-Europe tenu à Luanda, un incident filmé et diffusé, avec en scène, António Guterres, Secrétaire Général de l’ONU, et Ahmed Attaf, ministre algérien des Affaires étrangères, a mis en lumière de manière spectaculaire une tension diplomatique profonde. Une vidéo montrant ce moment est rapidement devenue virale sur les réseaux sociaux, suscitant un vif débat et plein de moqueries. Le geste brusque de Guterres, qui a adressé un salut formel et froid avant de tourner précipitamment le dos à Attaf, alors que ce dernier tentait désespérément d’échanger avec lui, dépasse la simple maladresse protocolaire. Le geste est parfaitement volontaire. Il symbolise de façon frappante une relation conflictuelle, chargée d'agacement entre l’ONU et l’Algérie, le Secrétaire Général affichant ainsi une posture claire de l’institution; on ne peut plus officielle. À un niveau diplomatique aussi élevé, les gestes ne sont jamais anodins ni improvisés. Guterres, en fin de mandat, n’a plus de temps ni de patience pour tolérer certains comportements, y compris ceux d’un ministre des Affaires étrangères d'un pays à l'insistance harcelante, éreintante, assommante. Politiquement, ce refus de l’échange public ne peut s’interpréter comme un simple accident ou hasard. Il s’agit d’une manifestation explicite d’exaspération face à la posture adoptée par l’Algérie. Il montre aussi que le Ministre n'a sans doute pas réussi à avoir une entrevue avec le Secrétaire Général. Le contexte est lourd : la question du Sahara marocain anime une dynamique tendue par une Algérie poursuivant une stratégie offensive et systématique de contestation des rapports et résolutions onusiens, accusant l’ONU de partialité. Alger adopte un discours de soi-disant neutralité, qui masque maladroitement la réalité. C'est elle qui entretient le conflit et l'alimente depuis qu'elle l'a engendré avec la Libye de Kadhafi voilà un demi-siècle déjà. Et ça tout le monde le sait... Le pouvoir algérien ne cesse de critiquer l’ONU dans ses médias officiels, usant fréquemment d’invectives parfois surprenantes en diplomatie. Aucun des pays, ayant reconnu la marocanité du Sahara ex espagnol, ni leurs dirigeants, de Donald Trump à Pedro Sánchez, en passant par Emmanuel Macron jusqu’au Cheikh Mohammed ben Zayed, n’a échappé à ces attaques acerbes et aux insultes des médias officiels et acolytes d'Alger. Israël et le sionisme aussi y sont mêlés, comme par magie. Tout est bon pour faire bomber le torse au vaillant peuple algérien, auquel on fait croire à son rôle de gardien du temple de la liberté et de la démocratie, en attendant qu'arrivent sur les étals: huile, semoule, lentilles et haricots. Une telle débauche d’impolitesse politique est inédite au niveau international. Le discours de Amar Bendjama, représentant de l'Algérie, après le vote de la résolution 2797 était dans ce texte, particulièrement révélateur, mêlant mimique dédaigneuse et propos irrespectueux envers le Conseil de Sécurité de l’ONU. Ce climat de tensions répétitives a engendré un véritable blocage diplomatique pour Alger, cherchant désespérément à influencer les mécanismes des Nations Unies par des pressions publiques répétées, en rupture avec les usages traditionnels de la diplomatie. Alger s'est faite avoir à son propre jeu. Le geste de Guterres peut être lu comme un signal politique fort, un rejet tacite d’une posture jugée déstabilisante et contre-productive, d'Alger. Par ce geste, le Secrétaire Général envoie un message clair au ministre algérien : « ça suffit ». Gageons qu'il n'en tiendra pas compte. L'entêtement est génétique en Algérie. Mais jusqu'à quand peut on se questionner. Cet épisode s’inscrit dans un contexte géopolitique plus large, où les divisions autour de questions clés affaiblissent la capacité de l’ONU à jouer son rôle d’arbitre crédible. Pour une fois que le Conseil de Sécurité arrive à voter à la quasi unanimité un texte sur un conflit qui n'a que trop durer, il est difficile d'accepter encore les tribulations d'un pays dont les agissements coutent cher à toute une région depuis trop longtemps. L’Algérie, quasi-exclusive défenseure internationale de ce qu’elle appelle « le peuple sahraoui », entité contestée hors de son propre lexique, se retrouve de plus en plus isolée sur la scène mondiale. L’image d’un ministre algérien ignoré dans un sommet d’une telle envergure illustre bien l’affaiblissement du poids politique d’Alger dans ces enceintes multilatérales. Pendant ce temps, le Maroc renforce son influence diplomatique à la fois régionale et globale. Enfin, ce geste dépasse la seule dimension individuelle : il traduit une rupture symbolique dans les relations entre Alger et l’ONU, exacerbée par la récente résolution onusienne mentionnant clairement les quatre parties au différend du Sahara marocain. Après un effort d’Alger pour minimiser et déformer cette résolution, sa réaction souvent véhémente ainsi que ses critiques publiques ont fini par irriter certains hauts responsables onusiens, ce qui explique en partie la brusquerie de Guterres. Alger n'a plus aucun choix sinon que celui de s'assoir à la table des négociations. Son nom est explicitement cité aux cotés de son rejeton le polisario, de la Mauritanie et du Maroc. A l'ordre du jour une seule solution, celle de l'autonomie sous souveraineté marocaine. Difficile à digérer pour Alger qui même à l'occasion du sommet du G20, n'est point arrivé à piper mot sur le Sahara Marocain. Pourtant le sommet se tenait en Afrique du Sud, véritable soutien d'Alger pour encore quelques temps. Au-delà de ce seul incident, cet épisode rappelle les limites de la diplomatie informelle dans les grands forums internationaux, où l’insistance hors protocole d’un acteur jugé agressif se heurte à la nécessité d’équilibre et de rigueur des interactions. Par ce geste, Guterres lance non seulement un avertissement diplomatique, mais également un rejet politique clair, témoignant de l’irritation croissante autour du dossier du Sahara Marocain, d’autant plus que les grandes puissances ont décidé publiquement de mettre fin à ce qu’elles considèrent comme un caprice algérien. Pendant longtemps elles ont tolérés les agissements hors sol des gouvernants algériens sans doute dans l'attente d'une prise de conscience de ces derniers, de leur bêtise. Ils se sont montrés incapables de raison malgré les appels répétés à la réconciliation du Souverain Marocain. Les enjeux géopolitiques en Méditerranée et en Afrique sont trop importants pour que la communauté internationale continue à tolérer les agissements d’un pays qui a fait de la déstabilisation régionale sa doctrine. L'Algérie n’aura réussi, au final, qu’une terminologie nouvelle: celle de «Sahara occidental». C’est justement, aujourd'hui, ce qui a ravivé la question du «Sahara oriental». De plus en plus, les jeunes puisent dans l’histoire et publient les preuves de la marocanité de ces territoires rattachés par la France à sa colonie d’alors...
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 .


8100

33.0

Light Pollution and the End of the Construction of Imagination – Part 2 56

Well, as I said in the previous article, I grew up and became a scientist. Not an astronomer, but a biologist. A biologist passionate about the stars. And many may ask: why didn’t you study astronomy? There are three reasons for that. The first is that I love biology. The second is that I was never good at mathematics. And the third is that I discovered that astronomers nowadays barely look at the sky. Telescopes work automatically, providing data to be analyzed later. That romantic astronomy of the past no longer exists. It was almost poetic, because imagination was the fuel for those scientists. Therefore, in cases like mine, it is much better to remain an amateur. This reminds me of a curious anecdote in which the writer Isaac Asimov is said to have refused an invitation to visit a factory where robots performed tasks on assembly lines, because he did not want to compromise his imagination. Returning to my story, when I was 21 years old, my father surprised me by taking me to a well-known store and buying a telescope. It was a relatively simple instrument, with a 60 mm aperture, but it allowed me to see the surface of the Moon perfectly, as well as Jupiter’s four largest moons and even Saturn’s rings. I don’t even need to say how I felt, do I? I became a child again! And that telescope is still here with me today, 30 years later. But here comes the bad part, which gives these two articles their title… Light pollution has reached extremely high levels, to the point that in large cities, when you look at the sky, you see very few stars, only the brightest ones. City lights have erased the night sky. What child today will look up at the sky and be enchanted by all that immensity? Who will feel themselves on the shores of the cosmic ocean, as Carl Sagan said in the first episode of the classic series Cosmos? How will imagination be built? In the same way, the inspiration of many poets and artists will be compromised. A child today, upon hearing stories of a time when the sky was filled with shining stars, might think that either the batteries ran out and no one replaced them, or that the bulbs burned out and no one changed them. It is still a child using their imagination, but without having experienced one of the most beautiful spectacles of creation. That spectacle is still there, happening, and it will continue to happen for a very, very long time. Or rather, as long as time exists, it will continue, but with a curtain separating the stage from the audience. Today there are movements and campaigns aimed at solving this issue, but I believe it is a great challenge to overcome. Until then, one alternative is to leave large urban centers and seek regions far away, at least 50 km from these cities, where one can truly enjoy the magical view of a clear and genuinely dark sky. I always wish clear skies to everyone, and ad astra!

CAF Sanctions: Disciplinary Justice with Variable Geometry? 317

The decisions by the Confederation of African Football (CAF) Disciplinary Commission regarding the incidents that marred the CAN final between Senegal and Morocco are now known. They were awaited, scrutinized, sometimes feared. But beyond their mere announcement, it is their **coherence, proportionality, and equity** that raise questions today. At first glance, the CAF sought to strike hard, giving the impression of sanctioning both parties to preserve a posture of balance. The CAF simply forgot that at its core, the conflict was squarely between Senegal and the referee, not with the Moroccan team, and thus, in the end, pitted Senegal against this very same CAF, responsible for the organization and officiating. Senegal and Morocco have thus, according to the commission's logic, presided over by a Senegalese, let us recall, been sanctioned to varying degrees. Yet, a close reading of the facts, confronted with the very content of the decisions rendered, reveals an **asymmetry that is hard to justify** between the severity of the acts observed and the weight of the sanctions imposed. The ridiculous is not far off. The central problem, namely, the officiating, has simply been swept aside. The most troubling element undoubtedly lies in the **total absence of any reference to the referee** in the Commission's ruling. As if he had never existed. Yet, the images and testimonies align: in the final moments, the referee displayed **manifest irresponsibility**. How can one justify resuming play when the minimum safety conditions were clearly not met? The stadium had been invaded by official Senegalese supporters, equipment had been vandalized, and tensions were at a boiling point. In such circumstances, the rules are clear: absolute priority must be given to the safety of players, officials, and the public. By ignoring this dimension, the Disciplinary Commission misses an **essential link in the chain of responsibilities**. They are, however, clearly identified. This is not to fully exonerate the Moroccan side. Reprehensible behaviors existed, and some hot-headed reactions could have been avoided. But the nature and gravity of these acts remain **incommensurable** with those attributable to the Senegalese delegation and its immediate environment. The most striking example remains the sanction imposed on Achraf Hakimi. Reproaching him for attempting to remove a towel belonging to the Senegalese goalkeeper—an object that, incidentally, had no business on the pitch—smacks more of a **search for artificial balance** than rigorous application of disciplinary principles. Can one seriously equate this gesture with outbursts involving pitch invasions and infrastructure damage? This harms the image of world football, beyond just African football. The inclusion of such an amalgam in the dossier and the proportionality of the sanctions are manifestly debatable. It is precisely on the terrain of proportionality that the CAF's decision falters. The sanctions imposed on the Moroccan camp appear **relatively heavy** given the facts reproached to them, especially when compared to those concerning the Senegalese side, which was linked to structurally far graver incidents. This disproportion undermines the narrative of those in Senegal and elsewhere who decried Morocco's supposed "stranglehold" on CAF bodies. If such influence truly existed, how to explain that Morocco itself ends up heavily sanctioned? Where is this alleged institutional protection when the disciplinary decisions, on the contrary, seem applied with particular rigor against it? One can only regret the missed opportunity for the CAF to show a new face of power and justice. The CAF Disciplinary Commission squandered a precious chance: to **clarify responsibilities, reaffirm the central role of officiating, and lay credible foundations** for managing crises in African competitions. By opting for punitive symmetry rather than a fine analysis of the facts, it perpetuates unease, fuels suspicions, and leaves the game's actors—players, officials, and fans, in a gray zone where perceived injustice becomes more damaging than the sanction itself. African football deserves better than disciplinary justice with variable geometry. It deserves an authority capable of owning its choices, naming responsibilities where they truly lie, and protecting the essentials: the integrity of the game and the safety of those who bring it to life. Today, some chuckle under their breath for escaping truly proportional sanctions for their misdeeds; others are stunned; still others conclude the immaturity of this African body, like other continental instances. A pitiful image for a continent whose youth aspires to development and a bright future, with football and footballers as role models. Has African football missed the chance to set an example? Did the CAF issue the wrong communiqué or target the wrong match? In any case, there is one clear winner slipping under the radar: the party at the origin of it all. Like a fugitive, the commission released its statement at an impossible hour... Funny, no? One wonders whether to hold out hope and pursue the process further, or resign oneself to admitting there is no hope for a just and credible African football body.

Najib Salmi, a Conscience Fades, a Legacy Endures 327

Najib Salmi has passed away, and with him closes one of the most beautiful chapters of Moroccan sports journalism. But beyond the collective tribute, it's also an intimate page of my own life as a columnist, colleague, and friend that turns. He leaves behind an immense professional legacy and, above all, an indelible human imprint. He was undoubtedly the greatest pen in Moroccan sports for decades. For over forty years, Najib Salmi embodied a certain idea of sports journalism, one that was demanding and responsible. In fact, he founded a school of sports journalism, having stumbled into it somewhat by chance and grown to love it. A central figure at the daily *L’Opinion*, where he directed the sports page, he marked generations of readers, especially through his cult column "Les points sur les i" (*Dotting the i's*), a rare space where freedom of tone blended with intellectual rigor and a sense of the public interest. He was an institution in himself. He belonged to that generation for which sports journalism was neither empty entertainment nor a echo chamber for blind passions, but an act of public service. At a time when Moroccan sports was entering the era of professionalization, money, and excessive media coverage, his pen knew how to denounce excesses, pinpoint responsibilities, and salute, with the same honesty, real progress and achievements when they were genuine. Najib Salmi was not just a great columnist; he was also a builder. At the helm of the Moroccan Association of Sports Press from 1993 to 2009, he fought for the profession's recognition, the defense of its ethics, and the dignity of those who practice it. He helped embed Moroccan sports journalism in regional and international bodies, earning credibility through seriousness and consistency. Wasn't it at a congress he organized in Marrakech that our friend Gianni Merlo was elected president of AIPS? Wasn't it he alone who headlined young prodigy Said Aouita after he set a new national 1500m record? He rightly predicted that Aouita would go far. He was the unwavering supporter of generations of great athletes. He attended every world championship and Olympic Games. He supported me too, with strength and determination. A man of principles, discreet but inflexible on essentials, he believed that respect for the reader and the truthfulness of information were non-negotiable. This moral uprightness, rare in an environment often subject to pressures and interests, earned him recognition from his peers as a true school of sports journalism. Abdellatif Semlali, the legendary Minister of Youth and Sports and his friend, delighted in calling him "Monsieur à côté" (*The Man on the Side*). He truly was. He never fit anyone else's mold, even during a brief stint at *Le Matin du Sahara*, then masterfully directed by Moulay Ahmed Alaoui. For me, Najib Salmi was more than a professional reference; he was a friend, a brother, and a mentor. It was thanks to his trust that I was able to write for years in *L’Opinion*'s sports pages, learning the craft day by day, line by line, under his attentive and benevolent gaze, enduring his mood swings and, above all, his corrections to style and syntax. He passed on to me more than writing techniques: a vision of what a column should be, rooted in integrity, thorough groundwork, and a rejection of shortcuts. Even today, if I continue to write, it's also because that inner voice he helped instill remains, the one that reminds us not to betray sport, the reader, or the truth. Najib Salmi passed away at the age of 78, after a long battle with illness, leaving an immense void in the newsrooms of *L’Opinion* and *Challenge*, to which he contributed with strength and diligence. He leaves a huge void in the hearts of all who crossed his path. He will rest in the Chouhada Cemetery in Rabat, where he himself had accompanied so many other friends, acquaintances, loved ones, and colleagues, and many who grew up under the benevolent shadow of his pen. May God welcome him in His mercy. To the friend, the brother, the master who showed me the way, I can say only one thing: thank you, Najib, for the delightful moments shared, for the words, the lessons, and the example. Readers will miss Najib Salmi; the family, the inner circle, and I will bury Said Hejaj. Said Hejaj departs peacefully to rest. Najib Salmi will live on in history.