For several years now, a slow poison has seeped into the veins of our nation. A shadow war, cold, methodical, waged not against individuals, but against the symbols they represent.
It all began with a muted yet relentless campaign against two leading figures of the security apparatus: Abdellatif Hammouchi and Yassine Mansouri. Two men of duty, heading two key institutions, guarantors of our security. These were not mere criticisms: it was a hateful, violent, organized machine. A media demolition enterprise aimed at tarnishing, breaking, isolating.
And when this machine—whose true masterminds remain unknown—wrongly believed it had weakened these bastions of the State, it allowed itself to go a step further, under the illusion that the ground had become vulnerable. It dared to cross a dangerous threshold, by attacking not the sentinels of the security system, but one of the Sovereign’s closest collaborators: Royal Advisor Fouad Ali El Himma.
A man of absolute loyalty, who never acts in his own name, but exclusively within the framework of the missions entrusted to him by the King. His function, eminently discreet, is neither a source of autonomous power nor of political decision-making: it is that of a trusted man, at the exclusive service of his Sovereign.
The path of Fouad Ali El Himma is a straight line: from the Royal College to high responsibility, he has remained in service, never in pursuit of power.
This is no longer a campaign of criticism: it is a deliberate, sequenced, calculated offensive. And its objective is clear: to weaken the pillars, to fracture the architecture, to desacralize the State.
Let it be said: in any country worthy of the name, criticism is healthy. It is even vital. But what we are witnessing here is not criticism: it is organized harassment. Strategic defilement. A surgically targeted operation: not to correct, but to destroy.
The masterminds seek to impose a false narrative, suggesting that Morocco’s destiny lies in the hands of only three men. A reductive, dangerously simplistic vision, one that ignores the institutional depth of our country, and attempts to erase a fundamental reality: supreme power belongs exclusively to His Majesty King Mohammed VI, within the framework of the prerogatives conferred upon him by the Constitution of the Kingdom, freely and sovereignly adopted by the Moroccan people in 2011.
The King is the guarantor of national unity, the stability of institutions, and the continuity of the State. As for his collaborators, however competent and devoted they may be, they act only by virtue of the royal will, and within the limits of the missions entrusted to them.
I do not have all the answers to the insidious attacks launched against Morocco. But I have one certainty: Morocco is not perfect, certainly, but it is alive. It moves forward. It builds. It gains in respect, in visibility, in sovereignty.
I do not speak here from the comfort of a neutral observer. But as a Moroccan, a man of the media, who has himself endured the smear machine—with this difference: that I have the freedom to respond, and the perspective to expose its mechanisms.
Morocco and Moroccans are not fooled.
They know how to tell the difference. They know how to distinguish shadow from light, the real from the fabricated, the essential from the superficial. And above all: they are proud of their country, whatever the challenges.
Let no impostor, no mercenary, no manipulator erase the foundations of what we have been building together for centuries.
This country is ours. Let us defend it. Without violence, but with an unshakable faith in what it is, in what it is becoming, and in what it can still be.
