When the media speaks with the state’s intelligence… and Jacky Houki delivers a media lesson for Moroccan journalism
Najibah Jalal
In his article published on “Galit Tzahal” radio, Israeli journalist Jacky Houki did not merely comment on a legal case in Morocco; he presented a model of how media can be used intelligently to serve the interests of one’s country. He took a case that has yet to be definitively resolved and turned it into an indirect diplomatic platform to convey a political message to Abu Dhabi through the window of Rabat.
The case in question involves Moroccan journalist Chama Derchoul, known for her courage and dedication to freedom of opinion, and her opposition to foreign interference in national media affairs. Derchoul, who has long warned about the dangers of foreign media influence, particularly from certain Gulf powers, found herself at the center of a legal dispute after a series of posts in which she argued that some national outlets are under foreign influence. Because she voiced her opinion, she is now facing a judicial process still pending before the Court of Appeal.
Jacky Houki did not delve into the details of the case out of solidarity, but rather for astute political leverage. At a sensitive diplomatic moment, following Abu Dhabi’s summoning of the Israeli ambassador in protest against the attacks in Jerusalem, Houki chose to gently remind the UAE that it also has media entanglements in allied countries, which could have unforeseen ramifications. Thus, Chama, unknowingly, became a part of a larger regional equation, where her past words are used to send new signals.
Here lies the profound paradox: Chama Derchoul, who called early on for the protection of Moroccan media from external influences, today transforms into a symbol opposing these influences, even when her case is presented in an article from Tel Aviv. Not because she is complicit, but simply because she spoke the truth at a time when many chose silence.
What stands out in this entire scene is not only Houki’s skill in writing from a sovereign perspective, but the indirect message we receive as Moroccans between the lines: media can be a quiet yet effective tool in defending national interests, even when it does not concern internal issues. Houki did not raise slogans or attack; he wrote calmly to serve his country’s agenda.
We must ask ourselves aloud: why can’t we also harness our pens to defend our sovereignty? Why do we sometimes find ourselves scrutinizing and judging those who strive to defend the independence of the media, instead of embracing them and investing in their potential to reinforce this independence?
Morocco, with its accumulated political maturity and institutional development, has no need to chase after free voices like that of Chama Derchoul. Her voice, whether disagreeable to some or bothersome to others, remains part of that vital dynamism that gives media its true essence… a voice that does not float outside sovereignty but rather for its sake.
In times of great transformations, where words turn into soft weapons, we must be discerning about whom we listen to, whom we defend, and whom we grant space to express themselves—not because we always agree with them, but because we recognize that freedom of expression emanating from the homeland does not threaten it; rather, it protects it.
