Morocco: Breaking Ignorance
Between vertigo and hope, we follow the great shock that shakes Morocco. The protests of the last week, led by the young people of GenZ212, merely reflect the cries of rural communities in the Atlas Mountains in recent months; the indignation of public hospital users, battered by a lack of resources and personnel; of students and teachers, who must work in conditions that make learning very difficult; of a country stifled by inflation and the destruction of precarious subsistence jobs, bulldozed by the government itself, determined only by one thing: to clean up its act to become a "modern" country and pompously host the 2030 World Cup, the dream of major investors. The coveted global showcase that commands a budget of €3.95 billion. The official narrative, as recently echoed by the Prime Minister at the United Nations General Assembly, is that the World Cup will serve to showcase Africa's "radiant face" to the world. This money, so necessary to address the most basic deficiencies in health, education, and employment promotion, will be used for certain infrastructure projects, which have certainly been improving in many parts of the country (but not everywhere) for a few years: the renovation of five football stadiums and the €459 million construction of the largest stadium in Casablanca. The politics of window dressing. While Rabat's new stadium, Moulay Hassan, transports you to what could be Dubai or Qatar, and while the Boraq (TGV) train takes you like lightning from Tangier to Casablanca, on regional trains people travel packed like cattle, and shantytowns still exist in the big cities and poorer ones.
The Moroccan people have endured social injustice and corruption with apparent resignation. The cost of rebellion, when it has occurred, as in the Rif Hirak uprising in 2016, has been very high. But the obscenity of the contrasts of recent years, so present in Moroccan society, was unsustainable. The pharaonic budgets for stadiums clash with the reality of much of the country: even today, many families in Haouz, the area hit by the terrible earthquakes of 2023, live under the canvas of a tent. The leader of the protests in these communities, Ait Mehdi, is currently in prison with a four-year sentence. The rural world doesn't count. Its abandonment is total.
Likewise, the seafront is being razed to the ground to become a second Costa del Sol. In too many corners, the goodbyes are being said to the beach bars and surf shacks that survived thanks to low-impact tourism that was present in local communities and quietly contributed to their economy. Farewell to entire neighborhoods of the informal economy: the plaster artisans of Casablanca saw how, in three days, the enormous plot of land in the city's Kouzama neighborhood where they had worked for years was razed by bulldozers. They weren't their owners, the city was, but no negotiations were possible. This is a story repeated in the great metropolis of Casablanca, but also in the other Moroccan cities that will host the World Cup.
And this time, the young people have had enough. The generational divide is evident: these young people grew up learning from their parents that silence was the way to survive, and resignation was the armor to make it possible. Twenty-five percent of young people between the ages of 15 and 29 neither study nor work, and in the cities, youth unemployment reaches 50%. What do they have to lose? No one expected their drive and determination.
After a week and three deaths, the demands remain the same (health, education, sufficient corruption, improved employment), but the government has failed to engage in the self-criticism required, and no one has resigned. Neither has Prime Minister Aziz Akhannouch, a businessman and billionaire who has refused to understand the pressing needs of the country and its people.
What's happening in Morocco challenges us not only because of its proximity but also because we understand the complexity of the country of origin of 16% of Catalonia's foreign population, the largest community by far in our country. Today in Catalonia, there are many Catalans of Moroccan origin, and our knowledge and interest in Morocco barely goes beyond the expected stereotypes: a visit to Marrakech, a night in the desert, tea and pastries. There is widespread ignorance about the country's richness and complexity, and it's hard to break away from an exotic or reductionist image. Now, young people have shown that they understand their present and want to be masters of their future. We must listen to them and applaud their courage and determination, waiting for other groups to join in what could become the key to changing many things. In these terrible times, a breath of hope is coming from Morocco and demands that we give it the attention it deserves.