A simple caricature by a cartoonist and a four-minute video featuring an activist expressing his dissent are arguably some of today’s most common mediums for political expression. In post-constitutional reform and post–parliamentary-election Morocco, sharing a political cartoon and criticizing the monarchy in a video is a crime, met with jail time. While reforms have been implemented for months, vague language has allowed Mohammed VI’s regime to selectively interpret and enforce its reforms whenever the monarchical institution is seen to be threatened. 

Morocco’s previous constitution contained many controversial articles that were either lost or split in the 2011 constitution. Article 23 of the previous constitution stated, “The person of the King shall be sacred and inviolable.” In the new constitution, the word “sacred” no longer appears in reference to the king. However, article 46 states, “The person of the King is inviolable and respect is owed to him.” This is a translation from the French version. The Arabic version is slightly different. As journalist Ahmed Benchemsi has pointed out, “In Arabic, it reads: ‘The King’s person is inviolable, and ihtiram [respect] and tawqeer are owed to him.’  Ihtiram wa tawqeer is an ancient expression used to signify the privileged status of those who claim descent from [the Prophet] Muhammad himself—a group that includes the members of Morocco’s 350-year-old Alaouite dynasty.”

Though without window-dressing, the new constitution is rife with pluralist rhetoric that would indicate legitimate progress towards democratization. Article 28 begins with, “Freedom of the press is guaranteed and cannot be limited by any form of censorship.” The same article ends, nevertheless, with a clause suggesting it is to be interpreted by those who enforce it:

“The law sets the rules of [press] organization and the control of public means over communication. The law guarantees access to these means by respecting linguistic pluralism, culture, and politics of Moroccan society. In accordance with article 165, the High Authority of Audiovisual Communication will ensure compliance with this pluralism.”

Proceeding to article 165, the language delves further into another level of ambiguity:

“The High Authority for Audiovisual Communication is an institution responsible for ensuring compliance with the pluralistic expression of opinion, thought, and the right to information in the audiovisual field in compliance with the civil values ​​and fundamental laws of the Kingdom.”

The ambiguous nature of these articles suggests a deliberate strategy whereby the Moroccan monarchy is not truly embarking on a path towards a democracy that protects uncensored free speech. Let us explore why this may, in fact, be the case.