Politics on Bluwr.

Algiers’ reversal on the Moroccan Sahara: a diplomatic admission or an awkward strategic repositioning? 362

Aziz Daouda, 1 d.

- World Politics - Politics - History -

3.2 min read.

The recent statement by Algeria’s Minister of Foreign Affairs, Ahmed Attaf, did not go unnoticed. The tone is solemn, the delivery measured and deliberate, and the emphasis pronounced. The moment appears serious. By asserting from the outset that his country’s objective has always been to promote negotiations between “the parties concerned”, namely, in his view, Morocco and the Polisario, while portraying Algeria as merely a neighboring observer alongside Mauritania, Attaf is clearly attempting to redefine his country’s role in the Sahara issue. This narrative, likely aimed at the Algerian public, contradicts reality. Algeria is indeed involved as a party, just like Mauritania. This stance raises many questions, as it conflicts not only with the rest of the statement but, more importantly, with decades of Algeria’s political, military, diplomatic, and logistical involvement in this artificial regional conflict, an involvement that is difficult to deny given the tangible evidence. Since the 1970s, Algeria has been the Polisario’s main supporter, arguably its only real backer. The separatist movement has benefited on Algerian soil from a political and military sanctuary in Tindouf, a fallback territory, financial support, substantial weaponry, and consistent diplomatic backing in international organizations. Polisario leaders even travel aboard aircraft bearing Algeria’s official insignia, something not even government ministers routinely do. For a long time, Algiers framed this involvement as simple support for the “right of peoples to self-determination.” Yet historical facts point to a much deeper commitment. The clashes of Amgala in 1976 are a revealing episode. Morocco captured Algerian soldiers there, including the well-known Chengriha, who were directly engaged alongside Polisario fighters, triggering serious tensions between the two countries. The question remains: what were they doing in Amgala? Hassan II would later address the matter. In this context, the current attempt to reduce Algeria’s role to that of an “observer” lacks credibility. No serious observer of the issue ignores that the Polisario depends entirely on Algerian support for its political and military survival. The international context has evolved significantly, and Algeria is becoming painfully aware of it. If this statement is being made now, it is likely no coincidence. The diplomatic balance of power is shifting in Morocco’s favor. The United States’ recognition of Moroccan sovereignty over the Sahara in 2020 marked a major turning point. Since then, several influential countries have adopted positions increasingly aligned with Morocco’s autonomy plan, which a growing number of capitals now view as the most realistic and pragmatic solution. In this context, Algiers appears to be seeking, perhaps desperately, to disengage from a conflict that has become costly both diplomatically and economically. The multiplication of regional crises in the Sahel, in which Algeria is often implicated, tensions with several international partners, and internal economic difficulties have further weakened its position. Algeria is indeed facing a persistent internal crisis, marked by a fragile social and economic situation. Despite its substantial gas resources, the country struggles to convert this wealth into sustainable development. Inflation, periodic shortages, youth unemployment, and declining trust in institutions are fueling deep unease. While the war in Ukraine temporarily strengthened Algeria’s energy leverage vis-à-vis Europe, this advantage has diminished as Europe diversified its supply sources. In this context, maintaining a frozen conflict for nearly half a century represents a political and financial burden that is increasingly difficult to sustain. Morocco, meanwhile, continues to register economic and diplomatic successes, particularly in its southern provinces. The issue of Tindouf has become sensitive, irritating, and particularly embarrassing for Algiers. The camps remain one of the most problematic aspects of the dossier. For years, international voices have called for a precise census of the populations living there, a demand regularly supported by Morocco and consistently rejected by Algeria. From a legal standpoint, Tindouf constitutes a form of sequestration. The populations there do not enjoy the rights typically afforded to refugees. Moreover, it is widely acknowledged that a significant portion of the camp populations are not originally from the Moroccan Sahara but come from other regions of the Sahel and from Algeria itself. The continued absence of an official census fuels questions about the demographic and security realities within the camps. For Algiers, this issue is all the more delicate given the sharp deterioration of the security environment in the Sahel, marked by the proliferation of armed groups, cross-border trafficking, and terrorist networks. Some even accuse Algeria of playing an ambiguous role in certain regional dynamics, particularly in light of recent developments in Mali, where elements of the Polisario have reportedly been involved. The recent evolution in Algerian rhetoric may be interpreted as an attempt to prepare for a post-Polisario phase. By seeking to reposition itself as a mere “observer,” Algiers appears intent on reducing its direct responsibility in a conflict whose diplomatic outcome seems increasingly unfavorable to separatist positions. For its part, Morocco, confident and composed, continues to promote its autonomy plan under Moroccan sovereignty as the sole and definitive solution. This proposal is gaining ground internationally, supported by active diplomacy and the opening of numerous consulates in Laayoune and Dakhla. The Kingdom now considers that any realistic solution must fall within this framework, effectively ruling out the referendum option, which has become impractical on the ground. Ahmed Attaf’s statement may therefore signal less a rupture than a transition, an imposed adjustment of Algeria’s official discourse in response to a shifting geopolitical reality. After decades of confrontation over the Sahara, Algeria seems to be acknowledging that the status quo is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. It remains to be seen whether this evolution will lead to genuine regional de-escalation or whether it is merely a tactical maneuver aimed at preserving appearances, as Algiers has so far appeared to favor a strategy of postponement. One thing, however, seems clear: the Sahara issue is entering a new phase, in which international power dynamics, regional security imperatives, and internal economic constraints will weigh more heavily than the ideological legacies of the Cold War.

Brahim Ghali, or the Art of Governing an Invisible Republic 1305

Aziz Daouda, 7 d.

- World Politics - Politics -

2.1 min read.

Some letters must be read to grasp how painfully detached from reality those who long ago chose to flee it can be. The two-page letter Brahim Ghali sent to the Secretary-General of the United Nations on 10 May 2026, in the English we all know, belongs to that fantastic strain of political literature that rewrites the world with the disarming conviction of someone who still believes the 1970s never ended. In this “solemn document,” dated from “Bir Lahlou”, a mythic location used more as an epistolary backdrop than as a real diplomatic capital, the Polisario leader denounces almost everyone. No one is spared: Morocco, the great powers, the Kingdom’s international supporters, the media, resolutions interpreted to suit his purposes, and probably tomorrow the Earth’s rotation around the Sun. What’s most striking about this “revolutionary” prose is the unfailing ability to speak as if the Polisario stood at the center of the world. It revives the old rhetorical reflexes of Third-Worldist movements preserved in ideological formalin: “occupation,” “colonialism,” “aggression,” “open war,” “international crime”… All that’s missing are a few Castro references, a Che quotation on a clandestine radio, and the clack of Soviet typewriters. Meanwhile, the real world keeps moving. Countries are recognizing Morocco’s sovereignty over the Sahara or openly backing Morocco’s autonomy plan. Even states that were traditionally cautious are taking positions with growing pragmatism. Major capitals now speak of investment, Atlantic corridors, regional stability and energy security. Yet in Tindouf, communiqués continue to be written as if the Berlin Wall were still standing. The text turns unintentionally comic when it accuses Morocco of “disinformation” while describing an almost planetary war that apparently only the Polisario’s authors, or their back office 1,824 kilometers away, can see. A war so intense that tourists are flocking to Dakhla, investments are booming in Laâyoune, and foreign consulates keep opening in the southern provinces. The contrast is striking. On one side, a Morocco building ports, roads, infrastructure, industrial zones and pursuing Atlantic ambitions. On the other, a separatist leadership still dispatching indignant letters to the UN in hopes of rebooting a diplomatic software even its former backers have started to uninstall. The most revealing passage may be where Brahim Ghali speaks of an “open war” while simultaneously calling for a return to a ceasefire his movement has repeatedly declared defunct since 2020. It’s circular logic worthy of the best absurdist sketches: the ceasefire is dead, yet we must return to what no longer exists so we can denounce who destroyed it, all while proclaiming we continue the war, a war that has not altered a single balance of power on the ground. In this letter, the Polisario resembles those ruined aristocrats who keep signing checks from an abandoned chateau with no funds. The tone is grandiose and the accusations thunderous, but behind the stagecraft lies a brutal fact: the political exhaustion of an apparatus that survives by diplomatic inertia rather than historical momentum. And then there is the constant obsession with Morocco. Everything revolves around the Kingdom. The Polisario lives against Morocco, speaks of Morocco, thinks of Morocco, accuses Morocco, dreams Morocco. While Rabat talks globalization, Atlantic Africa, the 2030 World Cup and economic integration, separatist leaders keep composing letters like forgotten resistants of a “revolution” History has already archived. That is, assuming Ghali actually wrote the letter, which he is incapable of doing. Everyone knows that too. The cruelest thing for Brahim Ghali may not be that the world proves him wrong. It is that the world is gradually, simply, stopping listening. That must be hard for him and his people... so let us pity these lost souls and laugh rather than condemn. If Nabyl Lahlou were still with us and had read these two pages, he would likely have imagined a play titled: Brahim Ghali, or the Art of Governing an Invisible Republic from an Imaginary Geography. He had a knack for the absurd.

Ouarzazate: From Logistical Isolation to a Systemic Development Emergency 2972

Aziz Daouda, 17 d.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.1 min read.

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

Moroccan Football: When Spectacle Becomes a Pretext for Confrontation... 3233

Aziz Daouda, 19 d.

- Politics - Society - Sports -

2.8 min read.

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

Kingdom of Morocco: towards the recovery of a suspended, not lost, greatness. 4018

Aziz Daouda, 24 d.

- World Politics - Politics - History -

3 min read.

From the geopolitical rupture of the 18th century to the strategic recomposition of the 21st: the Kingdom of Morocco is waking up, finding itself, and asserting its place. Morocco’s history defies simplistic narratives of internal rise and decline; it reveals a deep continuity, interrupted only by imposed global shifts. The end of the 18th century did not mark a civilizational collapse, but rather a systemic marginalization caused by a missed turn toward industrialization and modernity, a project rejected by religious elites and a largely conservative society, exacerbated by internal struggles between dominant traditionalists and minority modernists. This impacted and slowed the country's evolution. This "fall" remains relative, stemming from global change rather than purely internal decline. Without tracing the history further back, under Moulay Ismaïl and his successors, Morocco radiated as a structuring power, controlling vital trans-Saharan routes, exercising influence in the Sahel, and capturing a significant share of trade toward Europe. Its embassies were everywhere, but the rise of industrial Europe disrupted this balance. Maritime dominance, the bypassing of Saharan caravans, and colonial pressure redrew the world on a scale the Kingdom could not control, did not foresee, or suffered helplessly. But Morocco did not decline; the world-system simply evolved without it. To weaken it durably, in an attempt to paralyze and handicap it forever, Morocco was sliced and divided between two colonial powers. It did not lose the last part of its historical, legitimate territory until the 1950s. Unlike the Ottoman or Persian empires, eaten away by internal weaknesses, Morocco remained coherent, ready to reinsert itself as soon as the balances shifted. Immediately upon its independence, it did not take long to begin a real struggle to reclaim its historical place, which was naturally its own. As an important sign of greatness, it was on its territory that the Allies sealed the pact for the final fight against the Nazis, in the presence of Sultan Mohamed Benyoussef and Moulay Elhassan, who thus met all the great figures of the time. The Franco-Spanish protectorate (1912-1956) disjointed the country’s traditional African networks and oriented the economy toward dependence. Yet, the Alaouite monarchy survived, the State remained structured, and the Sharifian legitimacy remained intact. This resilience, rare among colonized nations, preserved a unique historical continuity. The relationship between the people and the ruling dynasty is foolproof, forming the foundation of an inevitable reconquest. Today, an unprecedented convergence of internal and external factors is closing this parenthesis. Morocco is reactivating its imperial vocation in the geopolitical sense, not through domination, but through strategic cooperation. Since the enthronement of His Majesty Mohammed VI in 1999, the Kingdom has reversed the trend on three major fronts: - Return to Africa: Reviving ancestral roots, Morocco invests massively in West Africa (banks, telecoms, agriculture) and consolidates a religious diplomacy, positioning itself as a bridge to the continent. This ancestral role, held under the Alaouites, is reborn in a modern form based on cooperation and complementarity for shared development. - Diplomatic victories: The growing recognition of sovereignty over the Southern provinces by the United States (2020), Spain (2022), France (2024), nearly all Arab countries, and the majority of African and European nations, along with the opening of consulates in Laâyoune and Dakhla, have transformed a defensive posture into an offensive one. "The Sahara is the prism through which Morocco views its international environment," declared the sovereign on August 20, 2022. - Geostrategic centrality: Partnerships with the United States (major non-NATO ally status since 2004), European security cooperation, and African anchoring make it an Africa-Atlantic-Mediterranean pivot. Tanger Med, the 16th global logistics hub in 2025, is proof; Dakhla Atlantic, operational by 2027, will open the other Atlantic facade. The desire to recover one's fundamentals is not an illusion. The Kingdom possesses all the assets to assume what it is and what it intends to become, as it has for centuries, if not millennia. The country's internal foundations, historical and modern, are solid. It is the oldest nation-state in the world. Monarchical stability, institutional continuity, and flagship projects (FIFA World Cup, TGV, solar energy, efficient industrial ecosystem, high-ranking motorway network, and port infrastructure) forge a true base for development. This credible and accelerated renaissance relies on three converging dynamics: - Shift toward Africa: The continent's explosive demography (2.5 billion inhabitants by 2050), natural resources, and emerging markets confirm and explain Morocco's choice, where it is already a leader with 1,200 investment projects. - Crisis of rivals: Sahelian instability and Algerian ideological failures (gas dependence, diplomatic isolation) isolate competitors, while Morocco offers a credible, stable, and pragmatic alternative. - Historical continuity: The kingdom is not "becoming" a power; it is becoming, once again, a political center, commercial hub, and investment catalyst, as it has always been in the past. This is a total historical alignment, supported by a clear vision and resources mobilized toward the development of the region and, consequently, the continent of the future that is Africa. Speaking of "lost greatness" is a mistake; it was slowed by global mutations, frozen by colonization, and contained by externally imposed regional balances. Today, the international context, internal stability, and external strategy are aligning for the first time since at least the 1800s. Morocco is not returning to the stage of history; it is simply emerging from a moment when history was written without it. It now intends to reclaim its natural place with a perspective of co-development for the benefit of Africans wherever they are.

Mediterranean: The Great Erasure of the Amazigh in Eurocentric Historical Narrative... 4893

Aziz Daouda, 29 d.

- Politics - History - Society -

2.9 min read.

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

Renault Restructuring: Social Threat or Industrial Opportunity for Morocco? 5236

Aziz Daouda, 1 mon.

- Politics - Business -

2.4 min read.

Renault's announcement of a drastic reduction in the number of engineers fits into a global dynamic of transformation in the automotive sector. Cost pressures, the shift to electric vehicles, and the digitalization of industrial processes: these factors are pushing major manufacturers to overhaul their internal structures, particularly in engineering roles. This still amounts to nearly 25% in Renault's case. At this stage, nothing indicates that Moroccan sites, particularly the Renault Tanger plant and the Renault Casablanca plant (SOMACA), will be affected, but the hypothesis deserves serious consideration. Above all, it opens up a field of strategic reflection. What if this potential wave of released expertise represented a historic opportunity for Morocco? For several years, major automotive groups have been redirecting their investments toward high-value-added areas such as embedded software, artificial intelligence, and electric batteries. This shift mechanically reduces the need for generalist engineers while creating strong demand for specialized profiles. It's a true global transformation redefining engineering in this industry. Renault's strategic plan, particularly through its electric subsidiary Ampere, illustrates this evolution. It's not just about cutting headcounts, but redeploying skills. Morocco is no longer merely a low-cost assembly site. Over two decades, the Kingdom has built one of Africa's most performant automotive ecosystems. It has evolved from an industrial assembly workshop to an integrated platform with local integration rates exceeding 60% in certain segments, the presence of major global tier-one suppliers, competitive logistics infrastructure (Tanger Med Port), and targeted training through highly effective specialized institutes. Groups like Stellantis and Lear Corporation have strengthened this ecosystem, consolidating Morocco's position as a regional industrial hub. If workforce reductions were to impact Morocco, they would release highly qualified profiles such as process engineers, quality specialists, industrial logistics experts, and R&D applied managers. A true pool of underutilized engineers. This human capital, trained to international standards, represents a rare strategic resource. In many countries, such a concentration of skills would be immediately absorbed by a dense local industrial fabric. In Morocco, the challenge is precisely to create these outlets. The hypothesis of a Moroccan automotive brand then imposes itself, with a central point: why not turn this constraint into a lever for industrialization? Morocco today has several assets: A solvent domestic market. The Moroccan middle class, though under pressure, remains capable of supporting demand for affordable, robust vehicles adapted to local realities. A near-complete supply chain. Wiring harnesses, seats, plastic components, cabling, majority of constituent elements are already produced locally, and industrial legitimacy has been achieved. The "Made in Morocco" automotive label is no longer an abstraction. In this context, the emergence of a national brand, with models symbolically named Taroudante, Fassia, or Itto, is no longer utopian. Even if it poses several structuring challenges, such as access to financing (patient capital, sovereign or private), mastery of intellectual property, the ability to develop a competitive technical platform, and an export strategy. There are precedents from comparable emerging countries worth examining closely. Countries like these have succeeded in this gamble: Dacia in Romania, successfully relaunched (irony of history, under Renault's impetus), Tata Motors in India, or Proton in Malaysia. These examples show that a national automotive industry can emerge provided there is clear alignment between the state, private capital, and technical expertise. It's truly a matter of political and industrial will. The real question, therefore, is not technical, but strategic. Does Morocco wish to remain a performant link in a globalized value chain, or does it aspire to become a full-fledged player capable of designing, producing, and marketing its own vehicles? The answer requires a proactive industrial policy, incentives for innovation, mobilization of national capital, and above all, confidence in local skills. It's about transforming uncertainty into an ambitious national project. If Renault's restructurings were to affect Morocco, they would rightly be perceived as a social threat. But they could also become a founding moment. Because behind every potentially released engineer lies a brick of industrial sovereignty. Stacked together, these bricks can form a true edifice. Morocco today has a rare alignment: skills, infrastructure, market, international credibility. What it still lacks, perhaps, is the audacity to take the final step: moving from the world's factory to brand creator. And in a country where the collective imagination is powerful, it's no small thing to envision that one day, owning a car named Fassia, Hada, or Itto becomes more than a purchase, truly an act of adherence to a Moroccan national industrial project.

Doping: Move Beyond Fiction, Confront the Public Health Issue... 5932

Aziz Daouda, 1 mon.

- Politics - Society - Sports -

3 min read.

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

GITEX Africa in Marrakech: Showcase of Ambition or Revealer of Contradictions? 5948

Aziz Daouda, 1 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.9 min read.

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

Motsepe, Tightrope Walker of African Football: Between Senegal and Morocco, Who is the True Winner of the 2025 AFCON? 6341

Aziz Daouda, 1 mon.

- Politics - Sports -

2.4 min read.

Patrice Motsepe's recent visit to Senegal and then Morocco was anything but casual or celebratory. Officially, it was a courtesy tour and follow-up on African football dossiers. Unofficially, it came amid simmering tensions over an explosive question: Who is the true winner of the 2025 AFCON? This edition left deep scars, with palpable disappointment already evident during the medal and trophy ceremony. Behind the forced smiles, a clear malaise: the title had been wrested by force. Recall: Morocco hosted an exemplary AFCON, filling CAF's coffers like never before, with sponsors galore, record attendance, unprecedented TV coverage, and elevated play thanks to unmatched infrastructure. But that ruffles feathers. Bitter jealousies and warning signs peaked in the final. Accustomed to the neighbor to the east's pathological provocations, Moroccans were stunned: the main saboteurs were their closest brothers, those they had welcomed most warmly, the Senegalese and Egyptians. In the final, spurred by an excitable coach, Senegal left the pitch over an unfounded refereeing controversy. Faced with certain facts, the act seems premeditated. Overheated Senegalese fans worsened the scene. What followed was a chaotic procedure. First, a disciplinary committee chaired by a Senegalese rejected Morocco's appeal, which challenged the result for non-compliance with regulations. It sanctioned minor on-field incidents while ignoring the blatant violation. Morocco overturned this verdict before the appeals jury, which restored the truth by applying CAF rules. Senegal, which had once benefited from a similar decision to qualify for the 2022 World Cup, only accepts refereeing that favors it. It rejected the ruling, issuing a state, not federal, statement accusing CAF of corruption. Implication: CAF corrupted, Morocco the corrupter. During his visits, then, Motsepe faced the inevitable: "Who is the 2025 AFCON winner?" In Senegal, his goal was clear: preserve ties with a continental football powerhouse. Facing President Bassirou Diomaye Faye, he reaffirmed CAF's respect for Senegalese institutions and their role in promoting African football, without mentioning corruption accusations, at least publicly. But the implicit message clearly aimed to curb Senegal's excessive defiant drift: heavy sanctions could follow otherwise. In Morocco, the tone shifted. True to form, Motsepe praised the Kingdom's structuring power. Facing the Royal Moroccan Football Federation and its president Fouzi Lekjaa, a CAF pillar and FIFA vice-president, he struck a laudatory note. Questioned on the sensitive issue, he found himself cornered: ruling would rekindle fractures. As CAF president, his role is to prevent a sports controversy from escalating into an institutional crisis. His hesitation reveals the complexity of a system where politics, symbolism, and sport intertwine. The AFCON is more than a competition: it's a lever for prestige and diplomacy, a field of regional rivalries. Morocco asserts itself as a football powerhouse through its performances, massive infrastructure investments generously shared with CAF and many African countries, academies like Mohammed VI's in Salé that export talent, and successful hosting of numerous men's and women's AFCONs. It is an indispensable CAF pillar. Motsepe's visit there felt like recognition, underscoring CAF's dependence on Morocco to advance African football. A constrained diplomacy is taking shape. These two stops expose, in practice, the limits of current African football governance: navigating political balances, economic stakes, and national ambitions on sight. Motsepe, a South African businessman turned sports executive, is no political finesse expert. His silence on the "true winner" reflects a reality: sporting truth often yields to diplomatic necessities. African football depends on states and their funding; alienating a country is suicidal. These two trips raise a crucial question: Does CAF remain a neutral body, or does it bow to its power centers? Senegal embodies sporting and historical legitimacy; Morocco adds investment and strategic vision. Motsepe implicitly maintains a fragile balance at the cost of silence and ambiguity. The crisis thus reveals the body's fragility. The tour won't settle the 2025 AFCON winner, that wasn't the goal, but it laid bare the strengths and especially the weaknesses of African football. A football that transcends the pitch. In this game, Motsepe is neither juggler nor dribbler: he is a tightrope walker. Yet he knows. He knows full well who will get the Cup and the $10 million that comes with it. He'll just avoid revealing it and getting booed. Thus, he'll remain welcome in both Senegal and Morocco. It's the CAS that will decide, not him... Coincidentally, FIFA has excluded Ndala, the "cursed" referee of the final who bore all the incompetence and excesses. A precursor sign before the Court of Arbitration for Sport's verdict?

Morocco-Egypt: Strategic Reunion or Fleeting Truce Beneath the Sands of Pragmatism? 6893

Aziz Daouda, 1 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.5 min read.

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

Brain Drain and Demographic Decline: Morocco's Silent Double Penalty... 7706

Aziz Daouda, 1 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.7 min read.

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

Morocco and the Trust Economy: The Invisible Capital of Development... 8326

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.9 min read.

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

Eternal Morocco, Unbreakable Morocco: The Identity That Triumphs Over Exile... 9328

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Politics - History - Society -

2.1 min read.

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

AFCON 2025: The Trophy that Sets the Savannah Ablaze.. 8661

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Politics - Society - Sports -

2.4 min read.

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

Faceless War, Disoriented World, Trapped Citizen... 8065

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Politics - Philosophy -

2.6 min read.

There was a time when war made sense, or at least appeared to. It pitted identifiable camps against each other, produced winners and losers, and sometimes ended in peace, even imperfect peace, sometimes signed in a train car. Before that, it unfolded in battles for which appointments were even set, far from civilians. They observed each other, sized one another up, and collectively decided the start time of the clashes. A true war of the brave. There were always winners and losers. Thank cinema for reliving those scenes, more or less romanticized, but scenes nonetheless... From World War I to the Cold War, closer to us, conflicts, however tragic, followed a certain historical intelligibility. Since then, joysticks have crept in, and computers have taken over... Things changed; dare we say: they dehumanized. Contemporary war, as it emerges in the triangular confrontation between the United States, Israel, and Iran, seems to have broken with that old logic. It's no longer just complex: it's become ungraspable, unintelligible to ordinary mortals like us. It doesn't just oppose forces; it dissolves the very landmarks that once allowed us to understand what war is. Who is the victor? Who is the vanquished? The question feels almost out of place. For this modern war produces no clear verdict, but a succession of competing narratives saturated with propaganda, disinformation, and what we now call "fakes." Truth itself becomes a battlefield, fragmented, manipulated, inaccessible. Lies are baked into the system. Reality wavers and fades. Yet lives are lost in anonymity, buildings surely turned to mush, billions of dollars vanished, likely burned in milliseconds by traders, exploded without a trace except by making poor people everywhere. In this war, roles seem interchangeable. One of those who triggered the hostilities seeks to extricate itself, as if suddenly discovering the vertigo of what it initiated. The second? Who knows. Its war logic has long been impenetrable. It presents itself as the aggressed party, refuses all negotiation, or pretends to, while expanding the theater of operations. The one retaliating, the third protagonist, loses its leaders, gets hammered daily for over a month, yet seems driven by an endless escalation logic too. Toward what horizon? It strikes beyond its declared adversaries without provoking proportional reactions. Part of its war is waged against those who don't want it and resist with all their might, without retaliation. How long will this last? We must ask: what does "winning" mean in a war with no clear limits or identifiable final objective? We are thus confronted with a profound mutation of war: it is no longer a means in service of a political end, as once thought, but an autonomous, self-sustaining process, almost abstract. A war that no longer aims for peace, but for its own perpetuation. And yet, this distant war is not so distant. Beyond strategies and rhetoric, it's civil societies that pay the price. Here in Morocco, elsewhere in the world, the effects hit with silent brutality. Energy prices climb, threatening psychological thresholds unthinkable just forty days ago: 20 dirhams per liter of gasoline soon. Tomatoes, fish, chicken, lentils, and the rest will follow... Anxiety is very real. The economy becomes war prolonged by other means. The citizen becomes an adjustment variable. It's they who foot the bill. Even when they don't want war, they must still pay for it, wherever they are, even at the ends of the earth. Faced with this, governments seem powerless. They dust off old solutions, already tested and already ineffective, as if economic history itself were trapped in eternal recurrence. This political impotence amplifies the sense of injustice and abandonment. Thus arises the question, almost metaphysical: what have we done to deserve this? This so-human question may be ill-posed. For it assumes an immanent justice in the world's course, a moral logic linking our acts to our collective fate. Yet the tragedy of our era is precisely the absence of that coherence. The world is not just: it is unstable, chaotic, traversed by forces beyond us. Perhaps that's the price of calling ourselves democratic, living in or under democracies... or not. Perhaps we need to rephrase the question. Not: why is this happening to us? But: how to keep living in a world where meaning slips away beneath our staggering feet? That is probably the true philosophical challenge of our time. Not understanding war, for it now escapes classical understanding, but preserving, despite everything, a capacity to think, to resist confusion, to refuse letting lies become the norm. If modern war is faceless, endless, and truthless, then the only possible victory is internal to each of us: upholding, against all odds, a demand for lucidity, a touch of humanism, hope, a dream.

African Football: Between Emotional Populism and Institutional Order.. 8278

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Politics - Sports -

3.3 min read.

The CAF dealt the Senegal national football team an implacable administrative defeat, awarding a default victory to the Moroccan national team in the 2025 AFCON final. This sanction, rooted in the CAF's disciplinary regulations, punishes any abandonment of the pitch, even if temporary. At one point in the match, the Senegalese coach consciously decided to have his players leave the field. Only one remained on the pitch. Under football rules, a match requires at least seven players on the field to continue to its conclusion. Despite winning after a rollercoaster extra time, the team paid the price for blatant indiscipline: unleashed supporters, partial pitch invasion, assaults and injuries, prolonged interruption during which the players returned to the locker rooms on their coach's dramatic order. Forget the simplistic narrative of a "Morocco vs. Senegal" clash that some, particularly on the Senegalese side, push to imply political motives. Nothing could be further from the truth. The affair stems from an initial clash between the Royal Moroccan Football Federation (FRMF) and the CAF. The FRMF asked the CAF to apply its own rules and those of FIFA, questioning their non-enforcement. Recall that the Moroccan national team strictly followed the referee's directives, even resuming play alone on the pitch for 14 minutes while the Senegalese headed to the locker rooms. The question, then, is: why did the referee refrain from applying the rules? The answer lies in the CAF's backrooms. A "CAF official" allegedly ordered the referee to flout the rules and not sanction the team that left the pitch. The FRMF took the matter to the CAF's bodies, which referred it to its Disciplinary Committee, normally chaired by a Senegalese. For convenience's sake, this committee rejected the FRMF's request. Far from giving up, surprised by the decision, the FRMF appealed. In appeal, it is not members who decide, but independent judges selected across the continent. The ruling was unequivocal: applying the rules, the Moroccan national team is declared the 2025 AFCON winner. The dispute between the FRMF and the CAF thus ended. Up to this point, the matter is purely sporting. The Senegalese Football Federation (FSF), unhappy with the Appeal Jury's ruling and defending the on-pitch result, refers the case to the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS). Senegal does not merely contest the decision: it launches a frontal assault on regulatory sovereignty, legally demanding an international corruption probe into the bodies. It is the Senegalese government that responds to the CAF and escalates the case. To prove corruption, it will need to identify the corrupted party and the corrupter... Through its decision, the CAF prioritized law over on-pitch emotion—an emotion unfortunately fueled off-pitch by the stupidity of those who, for a few more followers or AdSense dollars, spread indescribable hatred between two brotherly peoples. This is not a Senegal-Morocco issue, but a sporting one between the FRMF and the CAF, and between the FSF and the CAF. Some reminders are in order for the instigators on both sides, without defending the CAF and its bodies, which will answer the corruption accusations. The CAF's regulatory fortress rests on three impregnable pillars, bolstered by these regulation excerpts: **WITHDRAWALS** **ARTICLE 82** If, for any reason, a team withdraws from the competition or fails to appear for a match, or refuses to play or leaves the pitch before the regulatory end of the match without the referee's authorization, it will be deemed to have lost and will be definitively eliminated from the ongoing competition. The same applies to teams previously disqualified by CAF decision. **ARTICLE 84** The team that breaches the provisions of Articles 82 and 83 will be definitively excluded from the competition. It loses the match 3-0. If the opposing team was leading by a more favorable score at the time of the match stoppage, that score will be maintained. Additional measures may be taken by the Organizing Committee. The three pillars underpinning the decision are thus: **Absolute compliance**: Article 82 defines any team withdrawal as abandonment, triggering automatic forfeit. The 14 Senegalese minutes fall squarely under it, without ambiguity. **Mechanical proportionality**: The sanction is not discretionary; it flows verbatim from the texts and is validated by CAS jurisprudence. **Institutional primacy**: The referee tolerated a de facto resumption under pressure, but the CAF holds the power to rule on discipline. What will the CAS say if it is indeed seized by the Senegalese side? Conservative by nature, the CAS never positions itself as a sports judge; it upholds bodies when rules are clear. As an inflexible guardian of stability, it will reject any Senegalese "symbolic legitimacy." To prevail, Senegal must outmaneuver: invoke a resumption invalidating the abandonment, a "disproportionate" sanction, or the "spirit of the game." Fragile ploy: the CAS has systematically dismissed such escapes when texts are explicit. Several African federations, including the FRMF in the 2015 AFCON affair, as well as various clubs and CAF-affiliated associations, have appealed to the CAS against sanctions for forfeits, withdrawals, or regulatory breaches. In these cases, the CAS has consistently favored a strict reading of applicable regulations, dismissing arguments based on force majeure or mitigating circumstances when texts provided for automatic sanctions. The affair's outcome will inevitably be the CAF's victory, confirming the Appeal Jury's judgment. The Senegalese forfeit will be upheld, the title confirmed for Morocco. Jurisprudence will emerge strengthened by the triumph of law, shielding future competitions from chaos. One slim surprise remains possible: a replay or revision if the CAS rules the abandonment was not definitive. But will it risk unprecedented instability by overriding such clear rules? This is not a matter of interpretation, but of pure rule application. The CAS will crown the CAF, exposing Senegal's precarious position. Far from a bilateral duel, this crisis pits rule respect against populist temptation. Law will prevail: the CAF will reaffirm its sovereignty, for an African football governed by legislation, not emotional riots. The 2025 AFCON, not confiscated, will mark the consolidation of a continental legal order.

Oil Taxation, Aid Efficiency, and Social Justice: What Strategy for Morocco Facing Energy Shocks? 8559

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Politics - Business -

2.8 min read.

When the Russia-Ukraine war broke out, global energy markets were brutally disrupted. The barrel price crossed historic thresholds, triggering an immediate surge in pump prices in net importer countries like Morocco. In response, the government opted for direct aid to transporters to contain inflation and prevent pass-through to goods and services prices. However, the experience revealed its limits. Despite the subsidies, transport prices did indeed rise, pulling up the cost of all products and services in their wake. This gap between intention and reality raises a central question: how to effectively cushion an energy shock in a liberalized economy without widening inequalities or fueling rents? The decision to specifically aid transporters rested on the implicit assumption that they would act as shock absorbers, absorbing part of the increase. Yet, in a market with tight margins and fierce competition, it is economically rational for operators to pass on costs to fares, despite public support. Several factors explain this relative failure: - Lack of binding mechanisms. No strict obligation prevented pass-through to final prices. - Windfall effect. Some companies received aid without altering their pricing policy. - Targeting difficulties. Aid benefited a specific segment without ensuring a broad, lasting impact on the economy. This observation is all the more troubling since Morocco remains heavily dependent on refined product imports following the closure of the Samir refinery. Today, tensions around the Strait of Hormuz are reigniting fears of a new oil shock. This maritime corridor, through which about 20% of global oil transits, is a critical chokepoint in worldwide energy supply. Any disruption sends prices soaring and, mechanically, pump prices in Morocco. States worldwide have adopted varied strategies, with mixed results: - Price caps. Effectiveness is immediate, with tariff shields on electricity and gas, sometimes paired with fuel caps. These measures contain short-term inflation at the cost of very high budgetary expense, disincentives to energy sobriety, and windfalls for the wealthiest consumers. - Direct transfers. A social but imperfect response. Some countries issued energy checks or lump-sum aid to households. Politically popular, these tools are often criticized for their inflationary nature, lack of precise targeting, and risk of fostering dependence on one-off aid. - Tax modulation, a structural lever. Several states, like Austria, Spain, Italy, or Japan, chose to temporarily cut fuel taxes to limit pump price hikes. This approach directly affects the final price paid by all consumers, without intermediaries. It relies on principles of readability and shared effort between the state and users. In Morocco's case, a significant portion of the pump price consists of taxes—such as TIC and VAT—which heavily influence the per-liter price and give the state major leverage in price formation. Temporarily reducing these taxes would establish an explicit shock-sharing mechanism between the state and citizens, rather than concentrating aid on one sector. This option offers several advantages: - Universality: it benefits everyone, from truck drivers to salaried workers using their car for commuting. - Transparency: the reduction is immediately visible at the pump, boosting trust and the readability of public action. - Economic efficiency: it directly lowers fuel costs. - Social justice: by forgoing part of the fiscal rent on a now-essential product, the state clearly shoulders its share of the effort. Targeted and temporary reduction of oil taxation thus emerges as the most effective and democratic solution to cushion an energy quake. This path is not new in Moroccan debate, as evidenced by the widespread support via the Compensation Fund, phased out from 2015 onward. Lightening fuel costs through subsidies has already been implemented without achieving the theoretically expected results. Need we remind? Any tax reduction, if enacted, cannot be unlimited or permanent but must be strictly time-bound, calibrated to budgetary capacity, and linked to broader hydrocarbon market reform (competition, margins, strategic storage, reopening or alternative to national refining capacity). In other words, tax modulation should not be a short-term reflex but the tool of a comprehensive energy security strategy. Morocco faces a strategic choice: persist with one-off aid to transporters or embrace shock-sharing via taxation. If it chooses the latter and loses short-term revenue, it will gain in social cohesion and economic predictability, with three key lessons: - Prioritize direct mechanisms via taxation, a key pump price component, as the most effective tool for rapid, universal, and democratic action. - Avoid market distortions. Targeted aid without strict controls produces opposite effects; it fuels rents without protecting the end consumer. - Think long-term. Energy issues cannot be divorced from industrial sovereignty (refining, storage) and state budgetary resilience. Beyond conjunctural management, it is a true social contract around energy that must be rethought. In a country where the car is both a work tool, a means of access to essential services, and a vector of mobility, fuel price is a deeply political issue at the intersection of social justice and budgetary sustainability. Rather than multiplying one-off devices for a single sector, Morocco would benefit from a more systemic approach based on fiscal transparency, equity, and economic efficiency. Fuel tax modulation, as a universal and immediate lever, better meets democratic demands. It is a more credible response to current shocks and those to come.

Africa Cup of Nations 2025: When the Victim Becomes the Culprit... 8819

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Politics - Sports -

2.6 min read.

The reaction of Tunisian Hatem Trabelsi, former defender for Ajax Amsterdam and Manchester City, and a beIN consultant for several years, to the CAF Appeal Jury's decision, widely shared on social media, goes beyond mere sports commentary. It subtly reveals the narrative tensions, divergent perceptions, and symbolic stakes surrounding Morocco's successes in African football today. In his statement, Hatem Trabelsi highlights a classic phenomenon in African competitions under the Confederation of African Football (CAF): suspicion and discredit. Whatever the outcome, Morocco's victory seemed destined for contestation. If Brahim Díaz had scored, some would have cried arbitral error; if the Moroccan win had been decisive, it would have been labeled a "setup"; arising from a regulatory decision after the opponent's withdrawal, it becomes "proof of corruption." This critical lens isn't based solely on facts, but on a structural distrust of African sports institutions and their governance. It's the daily sport of Africans: nothing is accepted without suspicion, without accusations of corruption. Even presidential elections rarely escape it. The controversy actually exposes the narrative fractures generated by any decision, even the fairest. Over the past decade, Morocco has established itself as a central player in continental football. The kingdom has massively invested in infrastructure, training, and sports diplomacy. The results speak for themselves: Historic semi-final at the FIFA World Cup 2022. Multiplication of youth category titles. Regular hosting of African competitions. Growing appeal to binational players, like Brahim Díaz and many others. Morocco did it for itself, while naively believing it was good to share the benefits with the continent. Did the continent really want it? This rise fits into a broader soft power strategy, where sport becomes a lever for regional and international influence. But Morocco, the new power in African football, disturbs. Its success breeds jealousy and contestation. Trabelsi's point underscores an observed reality: success invites contestation. In an African football landscape historically marked by fluctuating balances between Egypt, Cameroon, Nigeria, and Senegal, the emergence of a structured, high-performing Morocco has sparked resistance. The Moroccan national team embodies a new dominance, built on sporting talent as much as organizational rigor, a transformation aligned with the country's overall trajectory. This fuels suspicious discourse, especially when refereeing or administrative decisions seem to favor it, rightly or wrongly. In the background, the controversy points to a deeper issue: the CAF's credibility. Recurrent accusations of favoritism, "backroom deals," or opaque governance don't target just Morocco, but the entire system. It's the narrative cultivated by one or two African countries to which nothing succeeds. As the African is too often consigned to the role of perennial victim, this discourse finds fertile ground to impose itself as reality. In this context, every decision becomes controversial, amplified by social media, press, and statements from governments, federations, or opportunists seeking visibility. Victimization, a recurrent sentiment in Africa, turns the slightest incident, or any decision, into a prism of suspicion. Trabelsi's outburst isn't just support for Morocco; he himself knows the kingdom doesn't need it. It highlights a battle of narratives around contemporary African football: between sporting merit and political suspicions, national pride and regional solidarities. Morocco, the rising power, finds itself at the heart of these tensions. As often in sports history, success is measured not only in trophies, but in the ability to impose a legitimate narrative. The real challenge for African football isn't designating a winner, but restoring collective trust in the rules of the game. Beyond the match, a battle of narratives is underway, where institutional credibility is the Gordian knot. The bad faith of some is evident. In a barely veiled attempt to poison relations between two peoples bound by centuries of brotherhood, a certain gaucho-Parisian press has launched a sordid discredit campaign, exploiting the weakness of the Moroccan national narrative, not for lack of content or relevance, but for its naivety in believing that good faith always prevails. Recent history proves otherwise. Those who long tormented Morocco for reclaiming part of its territory are the same ones howling on their sets or blackening paper, fueling a narrative aimed at harming the kingdom and sowing doubt about everything it undertakes. This won't stop; preparation is needed, especially after the 2026 World Cup. This is how to interpret Trabelsi's just and inspired words: it's time to build a Moroccan national narrative on national soil, without waiting for others, from abroad, to impose it through hatred and discredit. Today, Morocco outpaces its closest neighbors, which bothers them, enrages them, even drives them mad. The truth is they're profound hypogiaphobes, dreading their responsibilities to their own peoples. As for the 2025 AFCON, in two months, no one will talk about it anymore. It will boil down to a second well-deserved star on the Moroccan jersey, a sign that the CAF has come to its senses and will now apply its own rules.

Morocco: 113 kg thrown away per person, the imperative of an anti-food waste strategy... 9557

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.4 min read.

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

Christopher Ross or Diplomacy Against the Current 9097

Aziz Daouda, 2 mon.

- World Politics - Politics - History -

3.2 min read.

It sometimes happens that diplomats, once their mission is complete, opt for the discretion demanded by their former status. Others prefer to continue intervening in debates they themselves helped complicate. Christopher Ross clearly belongs to this second category. In a recent article, the former envoy for the Moroccan Sahara has once again taken a stance on this sensitive issue. With the benefit of hindsight, his analysis has gained neither nuance nor critical distance. Reading his text suggests quite the opposite: the same interpretive framework, the same assumptions, and above all, the same indulgence toward Algiers. This persistence raises a fundamental question: what is Ross seeking today by intervening again in a dossier where he was one of the most contested mediators? Appointed in 2009 by Ban Ki-moon, he succeeded a series of envoys who had faced the same difficulty: breaking out of a diplomatic impasse inherited from the Cold War. This conflict indeed traces its roots to the geopolitical upheavals of the 1970s. Morocco consolidated its historical sovereignty over the region in 1975, prompting Spain's withdrawal, while the Polisario, backed politically, financially, and militarily by Algeria and Libya, claimed the creation of an independent state. The dossier took on an international dimension with the creation, in 1991, of the MINURSO, tasked with supervising a referendum; an idea proposed by the late Hassan II in a speech delivered in Nairobi at an OAU summit. Very quickly, the obstacles created by the Polisario, particularly regarding voter identification, made this project nearly impossible, and the process stalled. It was then that Morocco proposed, in 2007, a major political initiative: a plan for broad autonomy for the southern provinces under Moroccan sovereignty. The project was presented to the Security Council as a realistic and pragmatic solution and garnered growing international support, described as "serious and credible" in several resolutions. It marked a true turning point in diplomatic realism. Since then, the diplomatic landscape around the Sahara has profoundly evolved. Numerous states now view Morocco's autonomy plan as the most credible basis for a lasting political solution. In 2020, the Trump administration officially announced recognition of Morocco's sovereignty over the Sahara, a major turning point in the dossier's diplomatic balance. In its wake, several Western powers reaffirmed their support for the autonomy plan, while Arab, European, and African countries opened consulates in Laâyoune or Dakhla, de facto recognizing Moroccan administration of the territory. Within the UN, the terminology used in Security Council resolutions has also evolved: the notion of a "realistic, pragmatic, and durable political solution" has become the guiding principle of the process. This shift toward a pragmatic approach reflects a simple reality: the referendum envisioned in the 1990s is no longer seen as a viable option. It is precisely this diplomatic turning point that Ross, still prisoner to an outdated vision, seems to refuse to integrate. In his recent statements, he continues to defend an interpretation of the conflict harking back to a bygone era, clinging to diplomatic frameworks long surpassed by geopolitical realities. This stance even calls into question the man's integrity. During his tenure, the Kingdom had already expressed serious reservations about his impartiality and officially demanded his replacement in 2012, as trust had been gravely undermined. A mediator, by definition, must maintain equitable distance between the parties. When that distance vanishes, mediation loses its credibility. In fact, Ross never truly dispelled suspicions of closeness to the Algerian position. Algeria's role in this conflict is central. One of the most controversial points in his discourse concerns precisely Algiers' place in the dossier. For fifty years, Algeria has officially claimed to be merely an "observing country" in this conflict. The diplomatic and strategic reality is entirely different. Algiers hosts, arms, and finances the Polisario, and shelters thousands of refugees in Tindouf, a significant portion of whom are not even from the territory in question. There is little doubt that the conflict is primarily a dispute pitting Algeria against Morocco, an analysis now widely shared by the main international actors. No lasting solution can emerge without Algiers' direct involvement in the negotiations. In this context, Ross's repeated positions appear anachronistic and undermine his credibility. By continuing, in effect, to align with Algeria and the Polisario, he gives the impression of prolonging a political fight rather than illuminating the debate. The responsibility of former international mediators is thus in question. When a former UN representative speaks out so trenchantly in public, he indirectly engages the image of the institution he served. Yet the credibility of international diplomacy rests precisely on the neutrality of its intermediaries. The diplomatic history of the Sahara is dotted with mediation attempts, successive plans, and failed initiatives. Before Ross, other envoys had tried to unblock the situation, notably James Baker, who proposed a transition plan in the early 2000s that was ultimately rejected. Each attempt has recalled a fundamental truth: without regional political will, no framework can succeed. This is precisely why current international diplomacy favors a realistic solution based on autonomy and regional cooperation, rather than maximalist constructs inherited from the Cold War. In essence, the question is not whether Ross has the right to express an opinion. Like any former diplomat, he can, of course, participate in the debate. But when he persists in defending a vision that ignores major geopolitical shifts, his discourse takes on the appearance of a rearguard battle. The world has changed, as have regional balances. The Sahara under Moroccan sovereignty is no longer merely a decolonization issue: it now lies at the heart of a strategic reconfiguration of the Atlantic and North Africa. Faced with these transformations, international diplomacy seems to have chosen pragmatism. Christopher Ross, by contrast, appears to have chosen nostalgia for a bygone paradigm. In international affairs, history shows that those who cling to past paradigms almost always end up swimming against the current of present realities.

Floods in Morocco: An Emergency Mastered, Lessons to Be Learned... 10473

Aziz Daouda, 3 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.5 min read.

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

Le Monde and Morocco: Old Grudges and Media Neocolonialism from a Parisian Prosecutor... 11016

Aziz Daouda, 3 mon.

- World Politics - Politics - Society -

3.2 min read.

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

The Double Health-Demography Shock Threatening Morocco: It's Time to Act 11646

Aziz Daouda, 3 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

3.1 min read.

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

Moroccan Sahara: The Algerian Lock Under American Pressure... 11418

Aziz Daouda, 3 mon.

- World Politics - Politics - History -

3.2 min read.

For half a century, Algeria's military power has sought neither to definitively end the Sahara conflict nor to truly satisfy the Polisario's claims. The central goal is perpetuating a *controlled status quo*, sufficiently conflictual to remain useful but well-contained to avoid escalation. **In this logic, the Polisario is not an end in itself, but an instrument: a regional pressure proxy, activated or muted according to Algiers' strategic needs. Its leaders are mere officials on a mission, and the detainees in the camps no more than accomplices.**The aim is neither to build a viable state in the south nor to secure a total diplomatic victory, but to maintain low-level permanent destabilization in the region. A cynicism all too evident in a "frozen" yet profitable conflict for the Algerian regime. It sustains permanent strategic tension with Morocco, effectively blocking any real Maghreb integration. It justifies ongoing militarization and massive defense budgets in the name of a lasting threat. It nurtures the narrative of an external enemy, useful for diverting attention from internal economic, social, and political blockages. *In this framework, Morocco becomes a "structural enemy," not because it poses an objective existential threat, but because the Algerian system needs a designated adversary to cement internal cohesion and channel popular frustrations. The imaginary enemy as a method of governance.* The image of an expansionist and aggressive Morocco forms one of the pillars of Algeria's official discourse. It installs constant psychological pressure: externally, a neighbor portrayed as threatening; internally, the proclaimed need for strong power and an omnipresent security apparatus. This setup is not conjunctural; it is inherent to the regime's nature. In this political architecture, full and complete normalization with Rabat would be counterproductive, as it would deprive the military power of a central lever of legitimation. Some consider it suicidal for the regime. Thus, even when a "managed freeze" seems to settle in, as recently described by former Mauritanian Foreign Minister Ould Bellal, it is not a step toward peace, but a modality for managing the conflict. The status quo is adjusted, modulated, never abandoned. **This is where Washington becomes a true accelerator of the dossier. President Trump having made conflict resolution the nodal point of his term.** The Mauritanian reading is lucid on one point: the dossier only moves when Washington gets directly involved. Ould Bellal, a seasoned observer, emphasizes that "the direct American presence in recent meetings" marks a notable evolution from mere principled support for the UN process. The US has broken with its former posture. This dynamic confirms a strategic reality: the conflict's center of gravity is neither in Tindouf, nor in Laâyoune, nor even in Nouakchott, but in Algiers. This is what American officials have fully grasped. The repeated visits by Massad Boulos to Algiers, along with his firm yet coded statements, systematically recall the American line: support for a realistic political solution affirming Moroccan sovereignty over the territories; insistence on regional stability and Algiers' involvement as a stakeholder. *The implicit message is clear: without constructive engagement from the Algerian power, no lasting progress is possible, regardless of the UN framework or negotiation format.* What of Mauritania, between neutrality and vulnerability? It too is a stakeholder in the talks. Ould Bellal recalls that his country is "objectively concerned" by the conflict's outcomes, particularly due to the Lagouira area and the security and economic stakes linked to Nouadhibou. Lagouira indeed emerges as a strategic lock, both for Mauritania's security depth and for the configuration of Atlantic trade corridors. His proposal to organize an international conference aimed at clarifying and legalizing Mauritania's "positive neutrality" reflects acute awareness of the risks: a prolonged and instrumentalized conflict weakens the entire Sahelo-Maghreb continuum. Nouakchott knows the Algerian status quo is not neutral; it shapes regional balances and can turn into a factor of diffuse destabilization. It has been since 1976. If there is a lock here, it is indeed Algerian. At the end of the current sequence, the diagnosis is clear: the central problem is in Algiers, and a decisive part of the solution as well. As long as Algeria's military power views the Sahara as a lever for internal management and regional projection, no purely UN dynamic will suffice; the Polisario will remain a tool, not a sovereign decision-making actor. Under these conditions, only sustained, coherent, and if necessary coercive American pressure can alter Algiers' strategic calculus. Otherwise, the "managed freeze" evoked by Ould Bellal risks turning into diplomatic eternity, where the process's form changes, but the blocking logic persists. A kind of near-mathematical constancy. **The status quo is not an accidental impasse: it is an assumed policy. And as long as this policy remains profitable for Algiers, the conflict will stay suspended, not for lack of a solution, but for lack of will from the true decision-maker.** To break the lock, Washington is multiplying pressures on Algiers. *The latest is appointing a chargé d'affaires in Algiers, not an ambassador.* The chargé d'affaires status allows marking a form of "under-calibration" of representation, which can be interpreted as reflecting tensions over sensitive dossiers: Sahara, rapprochement with Moscow, counterterrorism; without escalating to open crisis. It is a signal from Washington showing that the relationship with Algiers is important, but not to the point of immediately dedicating a full ambassador while certain political adjustments are not made. Chevron will certainly do business with Sonatrach, but in politics, that is not enough. Algiers must move to earn American diplomatic trust: Trump's order. **In essence, the conflict is not a matter of maps or revolutionary slogans. It boils down to a simple equation: Algiers feeds on the status quo, but under President Trump's impetus, the "Sahara problem" will cease to be a historical drama to become what it should always have been: a settled dossier. The lock is about to break.**

Ramadan in Morocco: The Holy Month in the Mirror of Our Excesses... 11049

Aziz Daouda, 3 mon.

- Politics - Society - Business -

2.3 min read.

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

Where Have Our Ministers Gone? When the Operational State Fills in for a Silent Government... 10080

Aziz Daouda, 3 mon.

- Politics - Society -

2.5 min read.

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

April 6, 2026: The day Morocco gets a parachute against economic storms... 10181

Aziz Daouda, 3 mon.

- Politics - Business -

3 min read.

April 6, 2026, will mark a decisive turning point for the Moroccan economy: it's a new level for the country's "financial engine."It will change the way businesses manage risks and, indirectly, the daily lives of citizens. This is undoubtedly the country's most important financial reform in a long time. With officials showing little interest in explaining such news, let's do an "Economics for Dummies" version. I'm one of them. A Futures Market is a place where you sign contracts today to buy or sell later, at a price fixed in advance. Instead of buying a stock or index right away, like on the "spot" market, you commit to a future price. This protects against sudden rises or falls. It's like locking in your gas fill-up price right now for the next six months, avoiding nasty surprises. Morocco is thus adding another tool to the Casablanca Stock Exchange to stabilize the system: the first products will be futures contracts on stock indices, overseen by the AMMC, the Central Bank, and the financial ecosystem. The goal is to make the capital markets deeper, more liquid, and more resilient to external shocks. April 6 is not just a technical date. It's a structuring step for the Casablanca financial hub to modernize the capital markets and bring them closer to international standards. Risk management will improve for economic players in rates, indices, currencies, and commodities. The Stock Exchange will also attract more capital, especially foreign. The Futures Market is not a speculative gadget; it's a protection tool, a kind of umbrella that shields from storms, allowing businesses to anticipate and secure their costs or revenues. It improves visibility and investment decisions, especially in an economy like Morocco's, highly exposed to international prices and exchange rates. **Impact on the agricultural and agri-food sector:** Morocco exports products sensitive to world prices and currency fluctuations. So, a citrus exporter fearing a dollar drop can use the Futures Market to hedge risk, by tying into an index or contract that tracks that risk. Even if the dollar falls or international prices reverse, it protects part of their margin and secures revenues. This means fewer cooperative bankruptcies, more stable rural jobs, and less "sawtooth" incomes in the countryside. The textile and automotive sectors are highly sensitive to raw material prices (cotton, steel, energy) and international markets. A factory importing cotton could hedge cost increase risks via products linked to an index. An automotive plant, exposed to rising steel prices or demand shifts, can stabilize part of its margins through hedging strategies. If they better control costs, they can invest more, avoid layoffs in tough times, and keep competitive prices for consumers: clothing, vehicles, etc. In energy and mining, global price volatility is a major issue. OCP, heavily exposed to international phosphate prices, can use the Futures Market to smooth the impact of fluctuations on its results. Energy operators can better manage risks tied to electricity, fuel prices, or interest rates financing major projects: solar farms, wind farms. Better visibility fosters long-term heavy investments, thus more projects, more industrial jobs, and ultimately more stable energy costs for households. Transport, services, and tourism, pillars of the Moroccan economy, are highly dependent on international cycles, currencies, and geopolitical shocks. A hotel chain or airline can hedge part of its risks (financing costs, market indices) to stabilize accounts, boosting capacity to maintain jobs, invest in quality, and offer competitive deals for domestic and foreign tourists. The Futures Market has a huge impact on very small, small, and medium-sized enterprises (VSMEs, SMEs, MEs), which form the productive heart of the country—99.7% of Moroccan businesses generate about 38% of value added and provide nearly 74% of declared jobs. Even if, at launch, the Futures Market will mainly be reserved for institutional players and the most structured companies, it will eventually benefit VSMEs/SMEs/MEs indirectly. Better-protected, more stable large companies offer more orders to subcontractors. Banks and intermediaries can create "packaged" solutions integrating risk coverage, without the small business needing to be an expert in derivatives. If the VSME/SME/ME fabric becomes more resilient, employment gains stability. At first, individuals won't have direct access to the Futures Market. Authorities want a gradual rollout given the complexity and risks. However, citizens are at the center of the final ripple effects: more stable jobs. Prices will be more predictable with better control of raw materials, energy, and financing costs. Savings and pensions will also be better protected. Pension funds, life insurance, and mutual funds can use these instruments to hedge portfolios. For projects and infrastructure: deeper capital markets finance major works more easily, with huge ripple effects. The Moroccan citizen won't necessarily "trade futures" from their smartphone tomorrow morning, but they'll benefit from a more stable economic environment, sturdier businesses, and a financial market better armed against storms. The Futures Market is a powerful tool, but it can become risky if misunderstood or used for pure speculation. That's why authorities chose a gradual launch, starting with simple products. Access will be limited to professional players and companies able to understand risks, before broader democratization. Emphasis will be on financial education, transparency, and strengthened regulation. This is therefore not just "one more product" at the Casablanca Stock Exchange, but a change in the playing field. It equips the Moroccan economy with modern tools to better manage shocks, support investment, and ultimately protect jobs and citizens' purchasing power.

Under Attaf's Eyes, Ghali Begs for His "Peace Bill" in Madrid... 10273

Aziz Daouda, 3 mon.

- World Politics - Politics - Society -

2.7 min read.

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

Between Stadiums That Withstand and Cities That Drown… What Image Do We Want for Sporting Morocco? 8565

Dr Charrat mohammed rochd, 4 mon.

- Politics - Society - Sports -

1.5 min read.

The image Morocco has projected in organizing major continental football events in recent years has been genuinely impressive. Modern stadiums, advanced sports infrastructure, and a level of organization that earned widespread praise—especially during matches played under heavy rain without any impact on pitch quality or the flow of the games. It felt as though the Kingdom was offering Africa a masterclass in readiness, sending a clear message: Morocco has become a serious sporting and organizational power. But on the other side of the picture, the floods in the city of Ksar El Kebir forced us to confront uncomfortable questions. How is it that sports facilities can withstand heavy rainfall with such professionalism, while entire neighborhoods end up underwater? How do we make sense of this stark contrast between stadiums equipped with cutting-edge drainage systems and cities whose infrastructure remains fragile in the face of intense downpours? Today, sport is no longer just about results on the pitch. It has become a showcase for nations—a mirror of their ability to plan and manage. Investing in stadiums is undoubtedly important, especially with major ambitions such as hosting the Africa Cup of Nations and preparing for even larger global events. But a country’s image is not built solely within the walls of sports complexes. The fan applauding flawless organization inside the stadium may be the very same citizen struggling outside with flooded streets and overwhelmed sewage systems. The paradox is painful: advanced rainwater drainage technologies beneath football pitches, while real drainage failures persist in some urban areas. This contradiction raises questions about priorities—not to diminish the value of sporting achievements, but to broaden the meaning of success. Effective sports organization should be an extension of a strong urban system, not a modern island surrounded by fragile surroundings. What happened in Ksar El Kebir should not be dismissed as a passing incident caused merely by exceptional rainfall. It should be read as a warning bell. If we are capable of building world-class stadiums in record time, we are certainly capable of modernizing sewage and drainage networks in cities vulnerable to flooding. The technical expertise exists, the know-how is there; the real challenge lies in applying the same urgency and rigor to projects that affect citizens’ daily lives. Morocco’s sporting ambitions are significant, its aspirations legitimate, and its international image important. But the most powerful image will emerge when our success in organizing matches under heavy rain becomes a natural reflection of cities that can also withstand storms without losses or suffering. Only then will we be looking at a truly coherent development model: one that shines not only under stadium lights and television cameras, but also protects people on the ground in real life.

Africa of Narratives: The Media Silence That Handicaps Rabat... 8890

Aziz Daouda, 4 mon.

- World Politics - Politics - Sports -

2.7 min read.

The press is never neutral and never will be.It doesn't just report facts: it ranks them, amplifies them, or stifles them. In Africa, where the battle for influence plays out as much in newsrooms as in chancelleries, media power is a central indicator of real leadership. In this game, the comparison between Morocco and Senegal, judged by the facts recorded during the CAN final, is brutal. It's a textbook case. It highlights a disturbing truth: Morocco acts massively across the continent but speaks little or goes unheard, while Senegal, with more limited means, imposes its voice. Senegal boasts an age-old media capital, forged by history, a culture of debate, and a press that has never fully abandoned its critical role. Dakar remains a nerve center for francophone African discourse. Its media transform a national event into a continental issue, a local controversy into a pan-African debate. They master the art of storytelling: giving meaning, creating emotion, shaping opinion. A quick look at *Le Soleil*, the historic state newspaper and circulation leader, or *Walfadjri*, a powerful, conservative, and critical group, is enough to gauge its reach. **Morocco presents a striking paradox. The country invests, finances, builds, trains, and advances by giant strides. It promotes win-win partnerships, positions itself as a major player in African development, and claims a deep continental strategic footprint. Yet this ambition runs up against a glaring weakness: the absence of a Moroccan press that is audible and influential on the African scale. Moroccan media abound, sometimes technically proficient, but remain confined to internal dialogue. Africa often appears there as diplomatic scenery, rarely as a living space for debate.** This shortfall carries a heavy political cost. Without powerful relays, the Moroccan narrative, when it exists—struggles to take hold. Its successes go unnoticed, its positions are poorly understood, its silences interpreted as admissions of weakness or lack of humility. While others seize the space, Morocco lets the battle for perceptions slip away. In Africa, those who don't tell their own story accept others telling it for them, with their biases and lies when bad faith enters the mix. The Sahara affair demonstrated this for decades, with persistent residues: the neighbor's narrative took root in many minds, peddling falsehoods, historical distortions, even geographical falsehoods. This absence of voice is also reflected in the silence of the elites. Moroccan ministers are discreet, if not absent, from African airwaves. Ambassadors shy away from major continental debates. Moroccan experts are invisible in pan-African media: Morocco is present physically and materially, but absent narratively. In contrast, Senegalese figures, political, diplomatic, or intellectual, flood the regional media space. They explain, justify, challenge, fully aware that influence is built through public discourse. Football, too often reduced to mere spectacle by shortsighted decision-makers, brutally exposes these imbalances. A heavy defeat can remain a minor incident or become a political and symbolic event. When a sports fact circulates in Africa, it's not the score that strikes but how it's told, commented on, debated. Things may go well on the pitch; what matters is the media narrative. The sanctions from the Confederation of African Football (CAF) confirm this reality. Their impact goes beyond sport: they become subjects of debate, tools of pressure, levers of influence. Where some media amplify, contextualize, and politicize the event, others suffer it, whine without convincing. Morocco too often adopts this defensive posture, lacking a press capable of imposing its reading of the facts and a solid narrative. Today, the impression prevails that the continent has ganged up against the Kingdom, seen as a corrupter of the system and absolute master of the CAF. In reality, we are far, very far from that. Yet try convincing a young African otherwise: some even view the sanctions against Senegal as unfair. *The problem is not quantitative but strategic. Morocco doesn't lack media; it lacks an African vision. Few correspondents on the continent, weak multilingual presence, absence of pan-African platforms: so many handicaps in a hyper-connected Africa. Add to that an editorial caution that stifles debate, while influence arises from clashing ideas.* The diagnosis is irrefutable. Morocco cannot sustainably claim a central role in Africa without investing the media field. It needs offensive, credible media capable of speaking to* Africa and with*Africa;* visible, assertive voices present in controversies and substantive debates. Modern power is no longer measured solely in kilometers of highways, banks, or signed agreements, but in the ability to impose a narrative. **Morocco must never forget the all-out war waged against it, including in the media. It must integrate this as a core component of its African policy.** As long as it leaves this terrain to others, those who, jealous and insecure, bet on disinformation, slander, and lies, its ambitions will remain fragile at best. **Good faith never wins alone: it advances alongside bad faith.** It's the swiftest, most composed, most persuasive, the one that hits back, that triumphs in the end.

Enough is Enough, Mr. Motsepe... 8013

Aziz Daouda, 4 mon.

- World Politics - Politics - Sports -

2.7 min read.

Letter to Mr. Patrice Motsepe, President of the Confederation of African Football, in response to his statement following the decision of your disciplinary commission. No, Mr. President, you cannot shift onto a host country, in this case, Morocco, the burden of the CAF's chronic weaknesses and the hesitant governance of its disciplinary bodies. By endorsing sanctions perceived as harsh toward Morocco, while sparing those who spoiled a final meant to be the crowning glory of the 2025 AFCON, your discourse on "integrity" and "the image of African football" comes across less as a moral awakening than as a convenient reversal of responsibilities. It is not Morocco that has undermined the CAF's credibility: it is the decisions, the unspoken issues, the legal contradictions, and the off-kilter communication surrounding this dossier. Morocco is not an ordinary defendant before the CAF; it is one of its main pillars. While others shy away from organizational, logistical, and security demands, it is the Kingdom that opens its stadiums, airports, hotels, and cities to competitions that many refuse to risk hosting. The 2025 AFCON mobilized infrastructure upgraded at forced march, nine stadiums meeting international standards, smooth logistics, and security that was widely praised, delivering a tournament that no one disputes on organizational grounds. To now tell this same country that it must also absorb the symbolic and sporting bill for the CAF's regulatory inconsistencies is to punish the very actor who contributed most to the event's success. When Morocco is sanctioned, it is not just federation officials who are targeted; it is millions of Moroccans who feel aggrieved. They filled the stadiums, showcased the country's hospitality, turned this AFCON into a showcase for the continent—only to see their national team, already honored with a fair play award, caught up in a verdict deemed "incomprehensible" even in the international press. How do you explain to these citizens that an exemplary host country, organizationally speaking, is treated with such severity, while the legal qualification of the Senegalese team's temporary withdrawal or other behaviors that disrupted the final seems to have been handled with calculated leniency? The question at hand is one of coherence and proportionality. Many observers, including jurists and former CAF officials, highlight the inconsistencies in a decision where the displayed severity toward Morocco is not matched by equally firm and transparent treatment of all parties involved. The suspensions of Moroccan players and the fines imposed on the FRMF pile onto the rejection of the claim based on articles 82 and 84, while the handling of the opponent's behavior and the incidents that led to the match interruption, injuries to valiant stadium staff, and vandalized equipment leaves a sense of unfinished business. This imbalance fuels the perception that the CAF sought a "political balance" rather than clear sporting justice. Your statements, Mr. President, do announce a reform of the Disciplinary Code, more "appropriate and dissuasive" sanctions, and a commitment to protecting the integrity of African football. Your words thus confirm that what occurred during the final warrants heavy reprimand. Defending the integrity of African football should logically have started there, given the facts that the whole world deemed scandalous—except for your disciplinary commission, which openly encourages indiscipline. To millions of Moroccans, who have invested billions of dirhams in their infrastructure and staked their international image just a few years from a co-hosted 2030 World Cup, this sudden clarity comes too late and feels like a catch-up operation. Trust is not rebuilt with abstract promises, but with decisions that convey equal treatment, rigorous application of the rules, and respect for the sacrifices made by host countries. In reality, what is at stake goes far beyond a mere disciplinary dispute: it is the moral contract between the CAF and its most committed members that is in question. When a country that takes risks to host your competitions feels turned into a scapegoat to mask your own failings, the relationship turns toxic. And if Morocco were to say to you today: enough is enough. It cannot, it must not, pay for the legal ambiguities, political hesitations, and faltering governance of a confederation that hides behind the "independence" of its bodies while refusing to fully own the consequences of its choices. The CAF, under your leadership, has just taken another step toward perfidy against its star pupils, as if those working for the development of African football disturb someone somewhere... Are we not right in the midst of the red poppy syndrome, the one that stands out above the rest in the field? Yes, we are, Mr. President. Those who resent others' success because they cannot replicate it at home have triumphed. They threatened. They were heard. Morocco disturbs with its development, its unparalleled achievements, its diplomatic victories, its success in organizing and the quality it offered your confederation. It pays the price. The price of the naivety it has shown.