In recent days, those who have been following Spanish journalist Ignacio Semprer's commentary might find it challenging to differentiate between legitimate journalistic interest in Moroccan affairs and what appears to be an obsessive fixation on Morocco. Hardly a day passes without Semprer seizing on an event related to the relationship between Rabat and Madrid, using it as a platform to launch fresh accusations against the kingdom.
In his latest appearance on the program "Al Rojo Vivo," Semprer went so far as to claim that Moroccan journalism has become, in his words, "hostile to Spain." He also alleged the existence of "electronic flies" working on behalf of Moroccan authorities, inciting actions to breach Ceuta. Such serious allegations would ideally require solid evidence; however, viewers of the program did not hear him mention a single Moroccan newspaper that published a call for such actions, nor did he cite any articles urging a breach of the city or provide technical data linking the accounts he referred to any official Moroccan institution.
The crux of the issue lies here: anonymous comments on social media do not represent Moroccan journalism, just as every extreme comment made in Spain does not define the Spanish press or government stance. There is a significant gap between a comment made by an anonymous account and a discussion about an organized media campaign allegedly backed by state authorities, a distinction that cannot be bridged by mere speculation.
What is particularly perplexing is that Semprer himself left a small opening for retreat by stating that he "might be wrong." However, acknowledging the possibility of being mistaken does not absolve a journalist from the obligation to verify facts before making accusations, especially on a highly sensitive topic involving the relationships between two countries that share strategic files and mutual interests. A journalist cannot simply hurl an accusation into a wide public space and add a small precautionary note, which is more of an evasion than a genuine acknowledgment of potential error.
Semprer, therefore, accuses Moroccan journalism of adopting a hostile discourse towards Spain, yet he does not apply the same rigor to the content published by certain Spanish media outlets regarding Morocco. During previous migration crises, there were Spanish articles and comments that placed extensive blame on Rabat, sometimes constructing political narratives that went beyond the facts and events. Yet, we have not heard a responsible Moroccan voice express the same fervor regarding a "hostile discourse" towards Morocco.
When Moroccan media respond to these narratives or criticize specific Spanish political parties or question the treatment of migrants, Semprer interprets this as a sign of a "targeted campaign," as though the expectation is for Moroccan journalism to absorb accusations in silence. In contrast, responding or discussing these accusations is seen as indicative of distant political direction from entities that exist only in Semprer's speculations.
In reality, the equation is much simpler. If Semprer possesses evidence that a Moroccan media outlet explicitly incited a breach of Ceuta, he should name it and provide the title of the published material so that we may commend him for his professionalism and investigative efforts. Furthermore, if he has data proving that specific accounts are linked to official Moroccan institutions, the public has the right to be informed about it. However, selecting anonymous posts from an open digital space and jumping to conclusions regarding the Moroccan state does not meet the standards of journalistic investigation, which should involve source verification and establishing connections before making allegations.
Semprer goes even further by offering a ready-made explanation for this supposed discourse, claiming that its aim is to "distract Moroccans from the victims of migration." Here, the question arises regarding the data underpinning this conclusion. Is there any document, statement, or reliable source indicating the existence of such a strategy, or are we facing a subjective interpretation driven by psychological motives that is gradually presented as a political reality?
Moroccans do not need someone to explain the nature of their relationship with Spain; the two countries share an unchangeable geography, intertwined economic and security interests, and deep human and social ties. No matter how intense the temporary disputes may become, the relations between Rabat and Madrid transcend an anonymous post or a fleeting debate on social media, especially given the presence of entities that do not view the rapprochement between the two kingdoms favorably.
Semprer's real dilemma may lie elsewhere. He has built a significant part of his media presence on the crises in Moroccan-Spanish relations, and thus he sometimes seems more comfortable with a narrative of conflict than with the reality of rapprochement. Whenever relations between the two countries improve, he appears to seek indicators of the next crisis, as if stability between Rabat and Madrid undermines the material he has grown accustomed to relying on.
This may also explain his repeated references to the "leniency" of the Spanish government towards Morocco. In his lexicon, cooperation with Rabat appears as "concession," Moroccan defense of national interests is deemed "pressure," and Moroccan media responses are considered "incitement." This vocabulary contains many elements of distortion that Semprer has become accustomed to utilizing. Accusing Morocco based on incomplete indicators is closer to "guessing" than "analysis."
For Semprer, Morocco has become a near-daily subject; if relations tense, he writes about Morocco; if they improve, he warns against it; if an internal Spanish dispute arises, he searches for its Moroccan angle; if an anonymous account posts an inflammatory tweet, it quickly transforms into material for drawing conclusions about an entire state.
No one expects Ignacio Semprer to love Morocco or to adopt Rabat's positions or defend its policies. Criticism is a journalist's inherent right and an essential part of their role, provided it meets the minimum standards of professionalism and neutrality. However, journalistic criticism derives its value from facts, sources, and evidence, not from an accumulation of assumptions that are ultimately marketed as truths.
The narrative of the "Moroccan flies" may have a far less sensational explanation than conspiracy theories, especially since Semprer has long been accustomed to discussing Morocco in a biased manner, perhaps not equally accustomed to hearing Moroccan voices that respond to and discuss his speech.
Not everyone who opposes Semprer is a "fly," and not every Moroccan critique of Spain represents an official campaign, nor is every anonymous post a decision issued from Rabat. It may be beneficial for him, before seeking out another new Moroccan conspiracy in the future, to return to the simplest rules of the profession that he seems to have forgotten: facts first, conclusions second, and let consumers of media discourse judge and evaluate.
As reported by hespress.com.
