The Unity of the Moroccan Nation/al team

Le 02 Février 2025 - par Shawwara Marwan

In the FIFA World Cup 2018, out of the 23 players coach Hervé Renard1 called up for the Moroccan national team, 17 were born abroad. This speaks volumes about the Moroccan people as a nation over the past century. Many of the players who overperformed in the 2022 World Cup and raised the Moroccan flag after their victories had previously played for European junior national teams before ultimately choosing Morocco. This, too, is telling.

In this article, I aim—briefly and superficially—to highlight how Moroccans continue to embody patriotism and a deep sense of nationhood toward Morocco, regardless of where they were born or raised. I will do so by examining the Moroccan national football team, which has been performing exceptionally well over the past 4 years since the 2022 World Cup in Qatar.

“I think with heart, and the heart was for Morocco,”1 said Dutch-born and Dutch-trained Moroccan player Mimoun Mahi when asked why he chose to represent Morocco over the Netherlands. “Scoring that goal and knowing that my parents—who left Morocco for Europe three decades ago—stood crying tears of joy as they watched me score inside Rabat’s Prince Moulay Abdellah Stadium meant everything,” he added1. These words reflect why many players, despite struggling to communicate in Darija (Morocco’s local dialect), still choose to play for the North African country. Their decision demonstrates a strong sense of patriotism that could also be understood in light of the rise of the far-right and growing racism in Europe. This environment may push young athletes to seek a space where they receive more unconditional support. Back in 2017, the leader of the far-right Party for Freedom, Geert Wilders, used racist language against the Dutch-Moroccan minority while campaigning, describing1 Dutch citizens of Moroccan descent as “scum.”

However, beyond external pressures, a coach also faces internal challenges when building a team composed of players who speak2 different tongues. This was the key difference between Hervé Renard and his successor, Walid Regragui, who was himself born in Corbeil-Essonnes, a southern suburb of Paris. Renard often complained that players struggled to understand his technical instructions, despite his repeated explanations in both French and English. In contrast, Regragui—who speaks French, English, and Arabic fluently—possesses what I would call an “Oriental” sense of social intelligence. He understands exactly what these players need to function as a cohesive team: heritage, legacy, and a sense of patriotism.3

This deep connection is perfectly embodied in their parents. For these young athletes—who may not speak2 the same language and come from diverse backgrounds—nothing is more powerful than seeing their ordinary mothers, dressed in their traditional ordinary clothing, cheering for them in the stands. Even Regragui himself experienced this transformation. His mother, who had never attended3 a single one of his matches during his playing career, traveled to Doha in 2022 to support him at the World Cup. He managed to create an atmosphere not just in Darija, but one that was unmistakably Moroccan—by Moroccans, for Moroccans everywhere. Leading to a historic achievement reaching World Cup semi-finals being the first African team to do so.

Some fun fact: in the same championship quarter-final, Achraf Hakimi, born4 and raised in the Spanish city of Getafe, trained and sparked in Real Madrid’s academy, scored the finale penalty to knock-out Spain in favor of Morocco.


Sources