The Dilemma of Cultural Preservation in a Global Spotlight
The paradox of a beloved city is that it is appreciated only if it undergoes transformation. There is something disconcerting about how major international events often turn host countries into subjects of scrutiny. Even before the kickoff of the 2030 World Cup, there is a pressing need to inventory potential points of contention surrounding Morocco, the host nation. The experience of Qatar before the 2022 World Cup serves as a cautionary tale, as it faced intense examination over various issues, including labor practices, social rights, living conditions, LGBTQ+ rights, alcohol consumption, religious practices, and local traditions. Almost every aspect of its societal fabric was put under the microscope.
As the 2030 World Cup approaches, Morocco is seemingly entering a similar phase of turbulence. A preliminary signal has emerged in the form of a petition advocating for the prohibition of traditional performances featuring snake charmers and monkey trainers in Marrakech. Horse-drawn carriages are also being scrutinized. While one might dismiss this as a mere local controversy, such a perspective would be overly simplistic. The issue transcends the animals and carriages; it fundamentally relates to a nation's right to preserve, evolve, and showcase its traditions without constantly subjecting them to an external lens.
Preserving Authenticity Amid External Criticism
Marrakech has a storied history that predates the World Cup. The famed Jemaa el-Fna square wasn't conceived by marketing agencies to attract tourists; it is the result of a rich urban and cultural history that has developed over centuries. Recognized by UNESCO as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity since 2008, it remains a vibrant space where storytellers, musicians, artists, traders, and various forms of entertainment converge. Some practices that have long contributed to the enchanting image of Marrakech are now being targeted for potential eradication, as if the city needs to be 'cleaned up' in anticipation of global visitors.
The debate surrounding animal rights is indeed valid, and if animals are being mistreated or exploited, authorities must intervene. However, protecting animals does not inherently require the erasure of cultural practices. Why is there an immediate push to transition from tradition to prohibition?
For years, tourists have flocked to Marrakech for its mysterious, vibrant, and bustling atmosphere. They rode in horse-drawn carriages, visited Jemaa el-Fna, watched snake charmers, and reveled in the city's magic. Now, as Morocco prepares to host the World Cup, there are calls to strip Marrakech of elements that contribute to its visual and cultural identity. What kind of image does Morocco want to project to the world in 2030? An authentic, modern, and dynamic Morocco that embraces its history, or a nation filtered through a uniform international standard where cities lose their unique identities?
The case of Qatar is instructive. Before 2022, international discourse shifted from legitimate critiques of certain practices to sweeping judgments on societal norms. Qatar was not only questioned about event organization but also about its social model, religion, traditions, and identity. A country that welcomes the world cannot expect to remain shielded from scrutiny. Infrastructure, security, environmental practices, and hospitality conditions will all be closely monitored. However, a line must be drawn: the World Cup should not compel a country to culturally dissolve in order to conform to an ideal from abroad. Otherwise, what is the point of hosting a global event across different nations? Why replicate the same stadiums, shopping malls, hotels, and tourist districts everywhere? Football may be universal, but cultures are not; it is precisely this diversity that gives global events their significance.
The question arises: what comes next after the snake charmers? Will the souks be deemed too chaotic? Are merchants too assertive? Are the medinas overly noisy? Are popular performances considered too archaic? Will henna artists be seen as overly folkloric? Will street musicians be labeled as too loud? Will traditional dishes like couscous be criticized for being too spicy? What actions will be taken against specific Moroccan practices simply because an external organization deems them incompatible with its worldview?
The World Cup should not become a vehicle for cultural normalization. Morocco is set to undergo significant changes in preparation for 2030, facing increased scrutiny, commentary, photography, and criticism. Even minor controversies can gain international attention, and administrative missteps can quickly become symbolic. Thus, it is crucial to navigate this landscape with clarity, avoiding two pitfalls: paranoia and naivety. The former entails viewing every critique as part of a conspiracy against Morocco, while the latter assumes that all campaigns and controversies lack ulterior motives.
Between these extremes lies a pragmatic approach. Some criticisms will be legitimate, and Morocco must address areas requiring improvement. However, certain political or media actors may seek to exploit every issue to tarnish the country's reputation. There are four years remaining to modernize infrastructure, enhance transportation, strengthen services, professionalize tourism, and resolve pressing issues. Equally important is preparing for the image battle, which has already begun.
After Qatar, it was predictable that the next major non-Western nation to host the World Cup would face a particularly biased examination. Therefore, Morocco must be ready—not by adopting a victim mentality, but by responding with facts, quality, transparency, and trust. Hospitality does not equate to erasure. Visitors arriving in Morocco in 2030 should be able to experience state-of-the-art stadiums, world-class infrastructure, and a rapidly transforming economy, while also enjoying the rich tapestry of Marrakech: its souks, colors, musicians, storytellers, horse-drawn carriages, and the extraordinary Jemaa el-Fna, an open-air theater that embodies the city's unique appeal.
Morocco should not plead for global affection; it should simply reveal its true self. If certain practices need to change, let those changes stem from a conscious and discerning decision made by Morocco in 2030—not because some external entity deems it necessary for the country to appear sufficiently 'modern,' 'acceptable,' or 'welcoming,' thereby erasing part of its essence. The best antidote to 'pre-bashing' is neither anger nor victimization; it is self-confidence: the ability to invite the world to 'come see us as we are.' Come enjoy the football matches and experience our culture.
As reported by sport.le360.ma.
