After their release, Moroccan journalists face harassment, threats, and media smears, revealing the ongoing dangers of independent reporting in the country.
This statement was originally published on cpj.org on 21 October 2024.
When Moroccan authorities released three prominent journalists in July as part of a mass pardon marking King Mohamed VI’s 25 years on the throne, their friends and families celebrated. But the excitement was short-lived. Taoufik Bouachrine, Soulaiman Raissouni, and Omar Radi have been shamed in the media, stalked, and harassed since their release as they face the enduring stigma of their sex crimes convictions, which are widely believed to be in retaliation for their work.
Bouachrine, Raissouni, and Radi became global icons of the fight for press freedom in Morocco after they were arrested in separate cases between 2018 and 2020 and sentenced to 15, five, and six years respectively on sexual assault and other charges. Media freedom advocates and local journalists told CPJ that the “morals” charges were intended to dampen public support for the three journalists, known for their critical reporting on the government.
Though the journalists are free, they still face the burden of these convictions, a state of affairs exacerbated by authorities’ lack of communication about the terms of their pardon. Bouachrine, Radi, and Raissouni don’t know if their sentences were commuted, or if they were fully exonerated, a meaningful distinction in terms of their ability to go back to work.
“In Morocco, in order for journalists to receive a press accreditation to legally work, they need not to have a criminal record. So, at the moment I cannot work in journalism until I figure out my unclear legal status,” Radi told CPJ.
If Bouachrine has a criminal record, it may impede him from trying to reopen Akhbar al-Youm newspaper, where he served as editor-in-chief until he was arrested in 2018, when Raissouni took over until he too was arrested in 2020. Akhbar al-Youm’s parent company, Media 21, was barred from accessing government funding, and the newspaper, one of the only independent outlets in the country, closed in 2021.
CPJ’s emailed Morocco’s Ministry of Justice about the terms of the journalists’ pardons and the Ministry of Interior for comment on the harassment facing the journalists, but did not receive any responses.
Harassment in pro-government media
Compounding the journalists’ insecurity is intense harassment, much of it directed by pro-government media, in which the royal family and powerful businesspeople hold stakes. Media companies including Barlamane.com, Chouf TV, and Maroc Medias, published articles about the accusations against Bouachrine, Radi, and Raissouni while ignoring evidence proving their innocence, which the journalists said played a central role in their convictions. Now that the three are out, the smears have started again.
Weeks after the journalists’ release, pro-government news website Al-Jarida 24 called them “fake heroes” and slammed a human rights group that hosted them for a press conference as “glorifying individuals with a dark past of sexual assault and human trafficking.”
Aida Alami, a Moroccan journalist and a visiting professor at Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism, said the negative coverage fits a pattern. “Such attacks are common in Morocco and are meant to never lift the pressure off released journalists, even after they are freed,” she said.
She pointed to the case of journalist Hajar Raissouni. Raissouni’s niece was smeared in pro-government news site Barlamane.com after she received a royal pardon for a 2019 conviction of having sex outside of marriage and seeking an illegal abortion.
More recently, Barlamane.com went after her uncle Raissouni for giving an interview to Spanish outlet El Independiente in September describing the royal pardon as “a correction to the crimes committed by the intelligence services against us and our families with a lack of ethics never seen before in Morocco.” An unsigned article in Barlamane.com slammed Raissouni for his decision to speak to El Independiente, claiming without evidence that the Spanish outlet receives funding from Algerian intelligence. (Morocco and Algeria severed ties in 2021.) Raissouni, said Barlamane.com, has “renewed his loyalty to enemies of the state.”
In a phone call with CPJ, Raissouni defended the interview. “The only reason I spoke to El Independiente in the first place is because [authorities] will never allow me to speak in the local media outlets about how I am, and always have been, innocent and how I am being targeted in this country regardless of being pardoned.”
He called the negative coverage “beyond a defamation campaign,” saying that Barlamane.com wants him back in prison. In a recent article it called his mouth a “criminal environment” requiring “legal examination.” Before his last legal ordeal, the outlet was part of a drumbeat of coverage leading up to his arrest by urging an investigation against him.
Threatening phone calls
Radi, meanwhile, has been spared the smear campaigns that targeted Bouachrine and Raissouni, but he faces another form of insidious harassment, he told CPJ.
“In the first three days of our release, some individuals were following me every time I walk in the streets. But after we [Radi, Raissouni, and Bouachrine] held two press conferences about our release, I stopped being followed but started getting phone calls threatening to arrest me again if I don’t shut up,” he said.
This wasn’t the first time Radi was surveilled; Amnesty International said that in 2019 and 2020 Radi’s phone was infected with Pegasus, an Israeli-made spyware. In 2022, the Pegasus Project, a collaborative investigation, found that Raissouni and Bouachrine were also selected for surveillance.
Raissouni believes that the Moroccan government has effectively erased independent journalism in the kingdom, using what he calls “sewage journalism” — the pro-government media — to intimidate independent outlets and journalists. Even the few independent outlets that remain have resorted to self-censorship, he said.
“Today, it is impossible to go back to work in journalism in Morocco. There are no remaining outlets today that would allow their journalists to write anything that is not aligned with the state narrative. ‘Sewage journalism’ has become one of the most famous forms of journalism in the kingdom, when it is supposed to be true independent journalism,” said Raissouni.
Even if Radi is able to go back to work, he’s not sure what kind of opportunities await him. “There is no free media anymore. There is simply nowhere to write your opinion anymore.”
