Morophobia, Orientalism, or obsession? Morocco through interested eyes

When it comes to reporting and analyzing what is happening in Morocco and certain events in its relations with Spain, there is a recurring, almost mechanical, biased view, a preconceived view in which Morocco never appears as a strategic partner, a sovereign neighbor, or an emerging regional player, but always as a threatening enigma, a regime that must be deciphered, an “other” that must be contained.

This view is not neutral. It is shaped, consciously or unconsciously, by Orientalist clichés, historical prejudices and, increasingly, by a form of latent, even avowed, Morphophobia.

The media obsession with every Moroccan gesture—be it a customs adjustment, a diplomatic incident, or a silence interpreted as guilty—reveals a disturbing double standard. While other countries are given the benefit of the doubt, Rabat is required to provide immediate explanations, total transparency, and constant justifications. It is as if Morocco cannot act according to the logic of a sovereign state, but only on the margins of emotion, opaque calculation, or intimidation.

There are emblematic cases in this landscape. Renowned commentators, sometimes presented as specialists on the Maghreb, are also among Morocco's most vocal critics. Their articles, analyses, and tweets—often virulent—describe a kingdom ruled by the wrath of the palace, which manipulates its partners, punishes its adversaries, and systematically silences any dissenting voice. Their interpretations of events are rarely nuanced. Everything becomes proof. Everything becomes a sign. Nothing is ever bland, except, of course, gestures of openness, reforms, or successes, which are systematically silenced.

This attitude goes beyond legitimate journalistic criticism. It builds, brick by brick, a fixed stereotype of Morocco.A Morocco anchored in an image of authoritarianism, duplicity, and unpredictability. A Morocco that never changes, even when everything around it is evolving. This is Orientalism: an interpretive framework that, instead of describing a changing reality, freezes it in order to better dominate it symbolically.

But this reading finds a broader echo today in certain Spanish political and media circles. The idea that Morocco is fundamentally problematic—in terms of migration, economics, security, or even culture—is presented as an unquestionable truth. A security-focused discourse is emerging that portrays Moroccans living in Spain as a demographic threat, economic agreements as dangerous dependencies, and Moroccan gestures of firmness as calculated provocations.

However, this discourse is not without consequences. It feeds, directly or indirectly, the rhetoric of the far right, which exploits this hostility to justify its calls for closure, exclusion, and diplomatic rupture. It undermines trust between the two sides. It weakens coexistence in Spain's multicultural societies, where millions of citizens of Moroccan origin live, work, and participate in democratic life.

It is urgent to call things by their name. Talking about Morphophobia is not an insult. It is describing a phenomenon: the tendency to see Morocco not as a partner state, but as a foreign body that must be monitored, judged, and condemned. It is not a question of demanding an idyllic vision, but of calling for a balanced, honest, and informed reading.

Criticizing Morocco is, of course, legitimate. But it must be done with rigor, context, and fairness. Reducing it to a caricature, reciting the same accusations without a fresh perspective, is to refuse to see the reality of a country that, despite its challenges, is moving forward, innovating, and engaging in dialogue.

Instead of building a wall of mistrust, it is time to build a space for understanding. And that begins with a healthy deconstruction: that of stereotypes, fixations, and obsessions.