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On one side, we face a pro-Senegal narrative saturated with selective outrage and raw emotion bordering on victimhood. It flatters base instincts and manipulates public opinion through media echo chambers that amplify noise without ever questioning its source. Here, facts are the great casualties of the script.
On the other side stands the Moroccan posture: methodical, calm, almost hieratic. The FRMF does not react to the foam of the moment, but relies on the solidity of the rules. No overbidding, no commotion. Decisions here are not offerings but the logical conclusions of clinical reports and immutable regulations.
Today, as the cloud of indignation settles, fragments of truth are finally emerging. They are confirmed by official documents conveniently published in a Parisian daily founded in 1944 by Hubert Beuve-Méry, historically not inclined to defend Moroccan arguments. Between Rabat and Dakar, via Paris, Algiers or Cairo, the battle to control the narrative rages. But reality remains impervious to the incantations of tale-makers.
The theater of indignation and the mirage of the star
It all began with a staged production in Dakar reminiscent of a low-budget Robert Hossein performance. The spectacle was eagerly relayed by a few Parisian newspapers that reached for their compassion handkerchiefs while shamelessly trampling on their own ethics. Acting as the mouthpieces of the Senegalese federation, they spread low-grade fake news where fact-checking surrendered to foul play.
And, perhaps fittingly enough, the soundtrack to this procession was the eternal Rolling Stones refrain: “I can’t get no satisfaction.” This narrative of “victory on the pitch” seduces simple souls but deliberately omits a line from the great Pierre Corneille that summarizes the absurdity of their stance: “To win without risk is to triumph without glory.” It is a paper parade meant to obscure the essentials: real facts and the protocols established for such incidents. Truth is not embroidered to the winds; it is written in the ink of official reports that always, sooner or later, leak.
Autopsy of a walk-off: the verdict of the official match reports
Upon closer analysis, Senegal chose to break the sacred pact by abandoning the field in the 97th minute. This was not a mere game incident but a premeditated walk-off. A theatrical exit worthy of FESPACO or the Khouribga African Film Festival. The late Noureddine Saïl, a seasoned cinephile, would no doubt have scorned the poor acting of Pape Thiaw and company.
And the official documents are damning. The report of the general coordinator, Tunisian official Khaled Lemkecher, is clinical: he describes “strong protests” and confirms that the players “abandoned the match.” The report of the commissioner, Egyptian Ahmed Osman, corroborates this rupture.
In this shipwreck of reason, only Sadio Mané tried to bring his teammates back to sanity. Referee Jean-Jacques Ngambo Ndala is explicit: the withdrawal was carried out under direct instructions from the bench. A remake of “La Grande Illusion” but — without the talent of Jean Gabin. Indeed, it bears recalling that Articles 82 and 84 of the CAF regulations are not poetic suggestions but pillars of sporting fairness.
The memo that hits the mark
At the same time, slander has been fueling the ongoing narrative battle, boosted by digital networks with dubious agendas: no fewer than 860,000 anti-Morocco tweets were recorded. An aggressive narrative was imposed, built on the assumption that Morocco had to win by civil or criminal means. For the 23 other teams, the motto seemed to be pulled from a Cheb Khaled hit: “Ouelli El Darek.”
Yet the 40-page memo written by FRMF Secretary General Tarik Najem raises a colossal issue. During an executive committee meeting in Dar es-Salaam, the head of the referees’ committee reportedly admitted that “institutional instructions” were given to the referee during the interruption. And that the goal was to save face and appease broadcasters. Simply put, the rule of law was sacrificed on the altar of vile commercial interests.
Between CAF’s Pontius Pilate and Moroccan Composure
Faced with a PR earthquake, Patrice Motsepe adopts the posture of Pontius Pilate in a B-movie biblical epic. He washes his hands of the matter and defers to CAS. We are heading toward the “small steps policy” dear to Henry Kissinger: “My brother” Motsepe will likely try some goodwill mediation to save an institution incapable of applying its own rules in the first instance.
Meanwhile, the FRMF and its president remain firm. Moroccan diplomacy stands strong and unshakable. From team accommodation in Tangier to relocation in a CAF-accredited five-star hotel in Skhirat, Morocco acted with fraternal elegance — without complacency or weakness. Today, the Senegalese federation parades with a trophy resting on a legally shaky foundation. The FRMF waits. It waits out of respect for institutions and with the calm confidence that only the Law can provide.
In this clash of narratives where every blow is allowed, we remain upright and serene. Morocco is the champion of Africa by law and by ethics. As the late Robert Badinter reminded us, law is not a weapon but a shield. And Morocco intends to hold up and hold on to that shield without blinking against the noise, clamor, and empty cries coming from Dakar, Paris, Cairo or Algiers.
My friends, colleagues, all that remains is for you to tune your violins. Prepare your handkerchiefs: for you, the next act will unfold not in newsrooms or through lobbies, but at the Court of Arbitration for Sport — likely in the coming weeks — to the tune of the Beatles’ “Cry Baby Cry”… and without a biased tale.
