The recent media appearances by Spanish journalist Ignacio Sambrero have raised eyebrows and sparked discussions regarding the fine line between legitimate journalistic scrutiny of Moroccan affairs and what appears to be an obsessive fixation on Morocco. It is noteworthy that every incident concerning the relationship between Rabat and Madrid seems to provide Sambrero with an opportunity to level new accusations against the Moroccan state. In his latest appearance on the program “Al Rojo Vivo,” he even went so far as to claim that Moroccan journalism has become "anti-Spain" and accused Moroccan authorities of employing “electronic flies” to incite unrest in Ceuta. Such serious allegations ideally require substantial evidence; however, viewers of the program did not hear any mention of a specific Moroccan newspaper that had published calls for invasion, nor was there any credible data linking the social media accounts referenced by Sambrero to official Moroccan institutions.
This is where the crux of the problem lies, as anonymous comments on social media do not represent Moroccan journalism, just as not every extreme opinion in Spain reflects the stance of Spanish journalism or the Spanish state. The distinction between a comment made by an anonymous account and the assertion of an organized media campaign backed by state authorities is vast and cannot be bridged by mere speculation. What is particularly perplexing is that Sambrero left himself a small loophole for retraction by stating that he “could be wrong.” However, acknowledging the possibility of error does not absolve a journalist from the responsibility of verification before making accusations, especially when dealing with sensitive matters affecting the relations between two nations with intertwined strategic files and mutual interests. A journalist cannot throw accusations into the public sphere and then add a caveat that is more akin to evasion, such as “I might be wrong.”
Sambrero alleges that Moroccan journalism adopts a hostile discourse towards Spain, yet he does not apply the same rigor when it comes to what some Spanish media outlets publish about Morocco. During previous migration crises, Spanish articles have often held Rabat responsible for various issues, sometimes constructing political narratives that exceed facts and events. Nevertheless, we have not heard any Moroccan voices expressing the same level of enthusiasm about an “anti-Spain discourse.” When Moroccan media respond to these interpretations, critique specific Spanish political parties, or raise questions about the handling of migrants, for Sambrero, it transforms into an indicator of a “targeted campaign,” as if the expectation is for Moroccan journalism to accept accusations in silence while responding or discussing them is taken as evidence of distant political direction from entities that exist only in Sambrero’s conjectures.
In reality, the equation is much simpler. If Sambrero possesses proof that a Moroccan media outlet explicitly incited an invasion of Ceuta, he should name it and provide the published material, which would demonstrate his professionalism and investigative effort. If he has data showing specific accounts are linked to official Moroccan institutions, the public has the right to know. However, selecting anonymous posts from an open digital space and jumping to conclusions about the Moroccan state does not rise to the level of genuine investigative journalism, which requires source verification and evidence of connections before launching accusations. Sambrero further complicates matters by offering a ready-made explanation for this supposed discourse, suggesting that its aim is to “distract Moroccans from the victims of migration.” This raises legitimate questions about the data underpinning such conclusions and whether there exist documents, statements, or reliable sources indicating the existence of such a strategy, or if we are merely witnessing a personal interpretation influenced by psychological motives being gradually presented as political truth.
Moroccans do not need someone to explain their relationship with Spain; the two countries share an unchangeable geography, intertwined economic and security interests, and profound human and social ties. Regardless of the intensity of temporary disagreements, the relations between Rabat and Madrid are far greater than an anonymous post or a fleeting debate on social media, particularly with entities that do not look favorably upon the rapprochement between the two kingdoms. Sambrero’s true fixation may lie elsewhere; a significant portion of his media presence has been built around the crises in Moroccan-Spanish relations, and he often seems more comfortable with the narrative of conflict than that of rapprochement. Each time relations improve, he appears to seek indicators of the next crisis, as if stability between Rabat and Madrid undermines the very material he has come to rely on.
This may also explain his repeated references to the “leniency” of the Spanish government towards Morocco. In his vocabulary, cooperation with Rabat is seen as “concession,” Moroccan defense of national interests as “pressure,” and Moroccan media responses as “incitement.” This vocabulary contains many elements of distortion that Sambrero seems accustomed to employing. Accusing Morocco based on incomplete indicators is closer to “guesswork” than to “analysis.” For Sambrero, Morocco has become a near-daily topic; when relations strain, he writes about Morocco, when they improve, he warns about Morocco, and when an internal Spanish disagreement arises, he searches for its Moroccan angle. Even an anonymous account posting an inflammatory tweet swiftly becomes material for deducing the stance of an entire nation.
No one is asking Ignacio Sambrero to love Morocco or to adopt Rabat’s positions or defend its policies. Critique is a journalist’s inherent right and a part of their function, provided it meets the minimum standards of professionalism and neutrality. However, journalistic critique derives its value from facts, sources, and evidence, not from a mere accumulation of assumptions that are ultimately marketed as truths. The narrative of the “Moroccan flies” might have far less sensational explanations than a conspiracy theory, particularly since Sambrero has long spoken about Morocco in a biased manner, perhaps not accustomed to hearing Moroccan voices responding to and discussing his discourse.
Not everyone who opposes Sambrero is a “fly,” and not every Moroccan critique of Spain constitutes an official campaign, nor is every anonymous post a directive issued from Rabat. It may be beneficial for him, before searching for yet another Moroccan conspiracy, to return to the simplest rules of journalism that he seems to have forgotten: facts first, then conclusions, and let the consumers of media discourse judge and evaluate.
As reported by hespress.com.
