Rabat – Football has long been presented as a sport that brings nations together, transcending borders, political differences, and territorial disputes. Yet, the relationship between football and politics remains complicated, particularly when national interests begin to influence the game’s symbols, institutions and players.
The reported T-shirt incident involving Abdessamad Ezzalzouli, Real Madrid, and Ceuta brings this question into focus. At the center of the discussion is Law 4, Section 4.5 of the International Football Association Board (IFAB) Laws of the Game, which regulates slogans, statements, images, and advertising on players’ equipment.
The rule is not simply a matter of clothing. It reflects a broader principle: football equipment should not become a platform for political messaging, while players should not be placed in situations where they are expected to publicly represent views they may not personally hold.
However, any assessment of the specific T-shirt incident requires establishing the exact circumstances, the message displayed, and the applicable competition regulations.
The episode also exposes what critics see as a glaring double standard. When Morocco international Ezzalzouli wore the Ceuta-themed shirt, voices in Spain defended him on the grounds that the initiative was supposedly social rather than political and that his personal choice should be respected.
Barely 24 hours later, however, Kylian Mbappé, Vinicius Jr., and Ibrahima Konaté were attacked for the opposite reason: although they wore the shirts, they were criticized because the slogans were not displayed prominently enough.
The contradiction is difficult to ignore. If the message was truly nothing more than a humanitarian gesture, as defenders of Ezzalzouli had insisted, then the precise way other players displayed it should hardly have become a test of commitment. Instead, the reaction suggested that simply participating was no longer enough; players were apparently expected to exhibit the message with visible enthusiasm.
IFAB Law 4.5: The rule behind the controversy
The IFAB’s regulation on political messages is more extensive than a simple prohibition on displaying slogans beneath a football shirt.
The official Laws of the Game state:
“Equipment must not have any political, religious or personal slogans, statements, or images.”
The rule also prohibits players from revealing undergarments carrying such messages, with sanctions potentially imposed by the competition organizer, the national football association, or FIFA.
What does the rule actually cover?
According to IFAB’s official interpretation, political messages include references to:
- Political parties, organizations and groups.
- Governments and their departments or offices.
- Specific political acts or events.
- Individuals, unless their name forms part of an official competition name.
- Organizations whose aims or actions may offend a significant number of people.
The regulation also requires consideration of the sensitivities of opposing teams, supporters, and the wider public when commemorating important national or international events.
With Ceuta remaining at the heart of a longstanding territorial dispute – and regarded by Morocco as a Spanish-occupied enclave – using football and players’ equipment to convey messages linked to national or territorial claims raises a much broader question about the boundaries between sport and politics.
Football is governed by rules intended to keep political disputes away from the pitch, and players should not necessarily be placed in the position of publicly carrying a message that may not reflect their own views.
This is precisely where Law 4, Section 4.5 of the IFAB Laws of the Game becomes particularly significant. By restricting political slogans, statements and images on players’ equipment, IFAB seeks to preserve the neutrality of the game and prevent footballers from becoming vehicles for political messaging.
In a sport built on the principle that nations compete under the same rules, turning a player’s shirt into a symbol of a territorial position risks crossing a line that football’s own regulatory framework was designed to protect.
Why the distinction between matchwear and pre-match clothing matters
A crucial legal distinction must be maintained. Law 4 regulates equipment worn by players, substitutes, and substituted players. Its principles also apply to team officials in the technical area.
Whether a T-shirt worn during a pre-match presentation, warm-up, or ceremony falls within the rule’s enforcement scope depends on the circumstances and applicable regulations. It would therefore be inaccurate to declare that a particular player or team violated the law without an official determination or sufficient evidence.
The rule’s existence, however, demonstrates that football’s governing framework seeks to prevent players’ equipment from becoming a vehicle for political, religious, or personal messaging.
Why political messages were placed under regulation
The prohibition did not emerge in isolation. IFAB’s 2007 Annual General Meeting records a FIFA proposal to strengthen Law 4 following incidents in official matches.
The proposed amendment added political, religious, and personal statements to the restrictions on players’ basic equipment. The meeting documents state that the amendment was developed in light of incidents around the world and was approved.
This history matters because it shows that the rule was designed as a regulatory response to real-world disputes, rather than merely a symbolic statement about football’s image.
It also establishes an important principle for contemporary controversies: the same standards should be applied consistently, regardless of the country, club, political issue, or identity associated with a message.
IFAB does not grant a general exception based on the popularity of a political cause. At the same time, the interpretation of what constitutes a political message can require contextual judgment.
Football’s neutrality and the freedom of players
Footballers are public figures, but they are not automatically political representatives of their clubs, federations, or governments.
A player may have personal convictions concerning national identity, territorial sovereignty, international relations, or other political questions. Those convictions may differ from the position promoted by a club, federation, or public authority.
This creates a potential tension when football organizations or political actors encourage players to wear symbols that carry political meaning.
It is important to distinguish between three separate situations:
- A player’s voluntary expression: A player chooses to communicate a personal or political position.
- An institutional decision: A club, federation, or competition organiser determines the equipment or messaging.
- An alleged obligation: A player is reportedly expected to wear a symbol despite not personally endorsing its message.
The third situation raises questions about consent and player autonomy. However, claims that players were forced to wear a particular political message require evidence, such as documented instructions, player testimony, or an official investigation. They should not be inferred solely from the presence of a shirt or slogan.
IFAB’s prohibition addresses what may appear on equipment. It does not, by itself, establish a comprehensive legal framework governing every form of pressure that players might experience.
Read also: Ezzalzouli Didn’t Write ‘Todos Somos Caballas,’ So Why Is He Paying For It?
Spain, Morocco, and the politics surrounding the 2030 World Cup final
The debate over the 2030 FIFA World Cup final illustrates how sports administration can become intertwined with national prestige and diplomatic interests.
Spain, Portugal, and Morocco are the tournament’s principal hosts, while Argentina, Paraguay, and Uruguay are scheduled to host centenary celebration matches. FIFA approved the joint candidacy in December 2024.
The final venue has not yet been officially decided.
On September 10 this year, Royal Moroccan Football Federation (FRMF) president Fouzi Lekjaa stated that the final would be held at the Hassan II Stadium in the Benslimane province near Casablanca. FIFA subsequently reiterated that the decision would be made “in due course.”
This distinction is essential. Morocco’s public ambition to host the final is not equivalent to an officially awarded right. Equally, Spain’s desire to host the match does not establish that the final belongs to Spain by default.
Morocco shares the same rights
The principle of equality among participating nations provides a useful framework for understanding the dispute.
Morocco’s effort to host the final can be viewed as a bid within the broader organization of a tournament shared with Spain and Portugal. Spain’s established football infrastructure and tournament experience are relevant considerations, but they do not automatically eliminate Morocco’s right to compete for hosting responsibilities.
The final decision belongs to the relevant FIFA decision-making process under the applicable governance arrangements. Neither public statements by Moroccan officials nor demands from Spanish football figures constitute the final allocation of the venue.
The issue is not whether Spain or Morocco can express a preference. Both can. The question is whether the process is transparent, based on established criteria, and conducted without treating one host nation as inherently entitled to the final.
Alberto Núñez Feijóo’s statement
Alberto Núñez Feijóo, president of Spain’s People’s Party (PP), directly addressed the dispute over the 2030 World Cup final in an interview with THE OBJECTIVE published on July 20.
Asked whether he would accept the final being played in Casablanca rather than Spain, Feijóo said that “the fair thing is for the final to be in Spain.” He justified that position by referring to Spain’s football tradition, its status as a major footballing country, and its proven logistical capacity to organise major sporting events.
Feijóo also referred to the origins of the 2030 tournament project, arguing that its organization “started with Spain,” before saying he hoped Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez would not be “trading with the venue of the final,” effectively turning the issue into another political line of attack against the governing Socialists.
His wording is important because it frames the final not simply as a FIFA hosting decision, but as something Spain has a particular claim to based on its football tradition, organizational capacity, and role in the original project.
Javier Tebas and the limits of LaLiga’s authority
Javier Tebas has become one of the most vocal Spanish football figures in the dispute over the 2030 final.
On September 10, Tebas argued that the final would be held in Spain if FIFA’s governance were changed. He also criticized the international governing body’s credibility and questioned the process surrounding the Casablanca announcement.
On September 15, he went further, suggesting that Spain should reconsider its involvement in the 2030 World Cup if Gianni Infantino remained FIFA president and the final were awarded to Morocco.
These statements demonstrate the intensity of the disagreement. They also raise a question about institutional boundaries.
LaLiga represents the interests of Spanish professional clubs and is an important stakeholder in football. However, the president of LaLiga does not independently determine FIFA World Cup venues.
The appropriate distinction is between advocating for a national interest and possessing the legal authority to make the final decision. Tebas can publicly campaign for Spain’s position, criticize FIFA’s governance and call for changes. The final venue, however, remains subject to FIFA’s official process.
His public criticism also indicates how disputes over football governance can become connected to broader political narratives involving Morocco, Spain, and the international football system.
When national interests risk overshadowing football
The dispute over the World Cup final highlights a broader challenge for international sport: national pride can influence how sporting decisions are discussed and presented.
Spain’s desire to host the final is legitimate. Morocco’s desire to host it is also legitimate. The fact that Spain and Portugal were central to the original joint bid does not, on its own, establish that Spain has exclusive entitlement to the final.
Likewise, Morocco’s growing football infrastructure and its proposed Hassan II Stadium are relevant to the hosting debate, but the venue must still be confirmed through the official FIFA process.
The same principle of institutional neutrality is relevant to the equipment controversy. IFAB’s regulations should be applied according to their text and context, rather than according to the political identity of the message or the country associated with it.
A final question for football’s governing bodies
If football is to maintain its claim of neutrality, that neutrality should be reflected in both its regulations and their application.
Players should not be treated as automatic instruments of political messaging. National federations and clubs should operate within the applicable rules. And international competitions should be governed through transparent procedures that respect the participating nations.
The controversy surrounding the LaLiga players’ Ceuta T-shirt, together with the competing claims over the 2030 World Cup final, provides an opportunity to examine these principles.
The essential question is not which country can claim ownership of football. It is whether football’s governing institutions can protect the integrity of the game while ensuring that every participating nation is treated according to the same rules.
Ezzalzouli Didn’t Write ‘Todos Somos Caballas,’ So Why Is He Paying For It?
