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Morocco: Have Some Moroccans Fallen into the Trap of ‘Sibling’ Media?
By Elias Aarab
The approach taken by some Egyptian and Tunisian media outlets towards the Africa Cup of Nations in Morocco 2025 resembles a special program with the overarching title: How do we confuse the Moroccan national team and create a rift between it and its audience? Observers of these “sibling” platforms note that a significant portion of the discourse does not focus on analyzing performance or assessing tactical choices, but rather on constructing a narrative that questions Walid Rekraq’s decisions and opens a side front between the public and its coach, through fabricated comparisons with the likes of Sketawi and promoting names that were not called up as if they were the magical solution to the few issues facing Moroccan football.
The name Rabi Hrimat has become a password in every “discussion,” mentioned more often than the team’s actual game plan itself. Any mention of the midfield now tends to invoke a phrase like: “If Rabi Hrimat were present, everything would have changed,” reflecting an exaggerated media portrayal more akin to advertising than analysis. Even Issam Al-Shawali, during the opening match, chose to inject “his poison into the honey,” referencing Hrimat at a time and in a context that was unnecessary but sufficient to plant an idea in the minds of a segment of the eager Moroccan audience, ready to ignite discussions over any side issue.
However, the issue does not stop with these platforms; it escalates when this side chatter reaches Moroccan journalism and analysts, transforming portions of the Moroccan audience into spectators who follow the matches with their ears rather than their eyes, picking up what is said off the pitch more than what unfolds on it. Instead of engaging in an analysis of the first match’s details—game pace, quality of passes, tactical choices, moments of strength and weakness—many have drifted into turning the discussion into an open court against Rekraq and his decisions, as if winning the match holds no value compared to “not calling up so-and-so,” clearly demonstrating that we have taken the bait.
Sofyan Amrabat has been the most prominent example of this superficial analytical injustice. A player universally recognized in technical discussions as a key to the team’s balance, leading in important statistics related to ball recovery, passing, and game organization. Every one of his experiences with the clubs he has played for has been successful, earning the trust of top coaches like Mourinho and Pellegrini. Yet, some “Facebook analysts” try to reduce him to a singular image: “a player who passes the ball backwards.” They fail to see Amrabat through an objective lens that highlights his role as a midfield engine. For instance, the key pass for the first goal came specifically from Amrabat’s foot, allowing Nabil El-Aynaoui to advance freely in the opponent’s box, dependent on the calm and intelligent defensive cover provided by Amrabat behind him, enabling a margin for risk and progression.
In contrast, the Egyptian and Tunisian media have their own agendas. Today, the Moroccan national team is seen as the primary contender for the title, according to specialized statistical platforms, while Morocco’s hosting of the tournament under international standards places it at the heart of the continental scene. This has prompted some outlets to blur the lines between technical discussion and drama, as drama attracts viewers and generates more pressure than cold numerical language. It’s thus easy to play the “victim” card, emphasizing “the absence of stars” and “the stubbornness of the coach,” allowing the Moroccan audience to complete the narrative through their social networks.
The real danger begins when this external narrative transforms into an internal conviction, and part of the Moroccan audience and sports media become tools in a media project that values viewership ratings over the stability of the national team. When discussions shift from “how do we win?” to “why wasn’t so-and-so called up?” and from “how do we improve the players on the field?” to “who deserves to coach the team?”, Morocco’s adversaries gain the upper hand in the first psychological battle without even touching the ball.
Therefore, the urgent task now is not to look for a scapegoat for every mistake in the first match or to open alternative files that weaken the trust between the stands and the bench. It is to reorder priorities: A team led by Rekraq to the World Cup semifinals deserves at least a modicum of calm, and a player of Amrabat’s caliber proves through statistics—before impressions—that he is a cornerstone in the team’s balance, deserving of a fair analysis, not hasty judgments. Ultimately, those wishing for Morocco’s downfall know that the route does not pass through the unbreachable hands of goalkeeper Yassine Bounou, but rather through splitting the unity between the team and its audience. It is wise not to give them a “free goal” from our stands, especially as we host a tournament with World Cup aspirations and a team favored on home soil in front of its fans to write a new chapter in the history of African football.
