The paradox of a city people love… provided it changes. There is something troubling about the way certain major international events turn a host country into an object of scrutiny. Even before the first whistle of the 2030 World Cup, it seems an inventory must already be drawn up of everything that could become a source of controversy.
Qatar experienced this before 2022: migrant labor, social rights, living conditions, LGBT rights, alcohol, religion, local traditions. Practically everything was put under the microscope.
As 2030 approaches, Morocco appears to be entering this turbulence zone in turn. The first sign: a petition is reportedly being prepared calling for an end to performances involving snake charmers and monkey handlers in Marrakech. Horse-drawn carriages are reportedly also in the crosshairs.
One might see this as a simple local controversy. That would be too hasty. The issue extends far beyond snakes, monkeys and horses. It touches on a country’s right to preserve, evolve and present its traditions to the world without systematically having to subject them to an imported frame of reference.
Marrakech did not wait for the World Cup to become Marrakech.
Jemaa el-Fna was not invented by communications agencies to entice visitors. It is the product of an urban, commercial, popular and cultural history built over centuries. Inscribed by UNESCO on the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity list since 2008, it remains a living space where storytellers, musicians, popular performers, merchants, food vendors and different forms of entertainment come together.
And now, certain practices that for decades have helped shape the imagery of Marrakech are potentially becoming symbols of a city that supposedly needs to be «cleaned up» before the world arrives.
The debate over animal welfare is obviously legitimate. If animals are mistreated or exploited in degrading conditions, the authorities must intervene. But protecting animals does not necessarily mean erasing a culture. Why should the leap be made directly from tradition to prohibition?
For years, visitors have come to Marrakech for its mysterious, popular, colorful, noisy and vibrant atmosphere. They rode in horse-drawn carriages, visited Jemaa el-Fna, watched snake charmers and popular performances, then went home telling others about the magic of the city.
And now that Morocco is preparing to host the football World Cup, some would like to strip Marrakech of part of what makes up its visual and cultural identity.
What do we want to present to the world in 2030? An authentic, modern and dynamic Morocco that embraces its history? Or a country passed through the filter of a uniform international standard, where cities all end up looking alike?
The case of Qatar is instructive. Before 2022, part of the international debate went beyond legitimate criticism of certain practices and took the form of a sweeping judgment on an entire society. Qatar was no longer merely being questioned over its organization of the tournament, but over its social model, religion, traditions and identity.
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A country that welcomes the world obviously cannot claim immunity from scrutiny. Infrastructure, security, the environment and hosting conditions will be examined. That is normal. But a line must be drawn: hosting the World Cup does not mean that a country must culturally dissolve itself to conform to an ideal imported from elsewhere.
Otherwise, what is the point of holding a global event in different countries? Why build the same stadiums, the same shopping malls, the same hotels and the same tourist districts everywhere? Football is universal. Cultures are not. It is precisely their diversity that gives meaning to a global event.
What comes after the snakes? Will the souks be deemed too disorderly? The merchants too insistent? The medinas too noisy? Popular performances too archaic? Henna artists too folkloric? Street musicians too loud? Couscous too spicy?
What will become tomorrow of this or that Moroccan practice because a foreign association has decided that it no longer conforms to its own conception of the world?
The World Cup must not become an exercise in cultural standardization.
Morocco is moving to another level for 2030. The country will be watched, commented on, photographed and criticized more closely. The slightest controversy could become international, the slightest video could sweep across social media, and the slightest administrative misstep could be turned into a symbol.
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Morocco must therefore prepare itself while avoiding two traps: paranoia and naivety. The first would consist of seeing a conspiracy against Morocco behind every criticism. The second would be to believe that every campaign and controversy is devoid of ulterior motives.
Between the two lies lucidity.
Some criticism will be legitimate, and Morocco will have to correct what needs correcting. But some political or media actors may also seek to instrumentalize every issue to damage the country’s image.
Four years remain to modernize infrastructure, improve transportation, strengthen services, professionalize the tourism experience and address the problems that need to be addressed. But Morocco must also prepare for the battle over its image, which has already begun.
After Qatar, it was predictable that the next major non-Western country to host the World Cup would come under particularly biased scrutiny. Morocco must therefore be prepared—not by retreating behind a posture of victimhood, but by responding with facts, quality, transparency and confidence.
Hospitality does not mean erasure.
Visitors coming to Morocco in 2030 should be able to discover ultramodern stadiums, world-class infrastructure and an economy undergoing profound transformation. But they should also be able to discover Marrakech: its souks, its colors, its musicians, its storytellers, its horse-drawn carriages and that extraordinary Jemaa el-Fna, an open-air popular theater whose singular character is one of the very reasons for its appeal.
Morocco should not ask the world to love it. It should simply show the world who it is. If certain practices need to change, then let them change because the Morocco of 2030 has decided so, intelligently and judiciously—not because some have decided that, to be sufficiently « modern, » « acceptable,» or «respectable,» the country must erase part of its soul.
The best antidote to «pre-bashing» is neither anger nor victimhood. It is self-confidence: the ability to simply tell the world, come and see us as we are. Come and enjoy yourselves watching football matches.
