When the Battle is with the Silent Herd… Not with the Sheikh of the Zawiya
Najiba Jalal
Abdelilah Benkirane is not the only one on the front line of this battle. It is true that he has come into the public eye, lowering his rhetoric to a level unworthy of his political history and symbolic position, but he knows exactly what he is doing, why he is doing it, and to whom he is sending his messages. He is playing his old, familiar game, a game of positioning through noise, reviving the narrative of the victim and the solitary struggler.
However, the reality, as colleague Ridwan Ramadan clearly indicates, is that Benkirane has become nothing more than a façade for a current of silent complicity and political and media cowardice, hiding behind which are those who dare not publicly declare their stances. These individuals belong to the "Whispering Club," where intentions are woven in the shadows and freedom is mocked in closed sessions, leaving the public space for the "sheikh" to roam freely, unmonitored and unchecked.
In a profound post where anger mixed with dignity, Ramadan expressed his rejection of the culture of duplicity: his battle is not just against those who insult him or attempt to belittle him, but against those who have chosen a suspicious silence, a silence dictated not by wisdom but by cowardice and opportunism. He stands against those who practice "analysis" within institutions and receive hefty salaries for their "expertise," while they excel in nothing but opportunism and aligning with the strongest.
Amidst this noise, some journalists, known for their color changes and contradictions, find themselves siding with Benkirane’s populist rhetoric, not in defense of the truth, but as a show of strength in the wave of mobilization, joining a misinformation campaign targeted against free voices that do not compromise their positions or sell their independence. They are not bothered by slander or bullying; rather, they attack those who refuse to remain silent, as if freedom of opinion has become a crime deserving of symbolic execution.
Ramadan did not relent and did not hide behind ambiguous phrases; he stated it plainly: “My battle is not electoral, personal, or partisan. I do not compete for a seat, nor do I covet a vote. I am a holder of an opinion, and for me, an opinion is a stance that cannot be borrowed, rented, or stifled.”
He reminds us that those who consent to be demeaned by Benkirane, who are labeled as "fools" and "simpletons," and applaud this treatment, have willingly surrendered their dignity. Those who rely on the support of the frenzied virtual masses against those who write with respect and oppose professionally have chosen to become part of mediocrity rather than resistance.
As for those who lack the courage to say, "Taza before Gaza," and who know very well that Benkirane now represents nothing but an investment in sensationalism and distraction, they are partners in the production of illusion.
In the end, Ramadan confirms that his battle is not to convince onlookers but to defend the right to express oneself, refusing to let the arena become a farm for screams and a playground for mind manipulation.
“I will not be silent…” This phrase embodies not just a position but a professional conscience resistant to domestication.
