On paper, Morocco arrive at AFCON 2025 with the kind of squad depth that African football once reserved for a select few: a Champions League-winning right-back as captain, a World Cup-proven goalkeeper, centre-backs comfortable defending large spaces, and a new generation of attacking midfielders and wide forwards raised in elite European academies. In reality, Morocco arrive with something harder to measure and easier to lose—expectation.
This is a home tournament, shifted into the December–January window (21 December 2025 to 18 January 2026) and played under the full glare of national ambition. Morocco are also trying to end a title drought stretching back to 1976—an anniversary that has become, for supporters, less a historical marker than a recurring question.
A narrow round-of-16 win over Tanzania—settled by Brahim Díaz, assisted by Achraf Hakimi—pushed the Atlas Lions into a quarter-final meeting with Cameroon and kept the wider story intact: Morocco are advancing, but not yet soaring. That is often how AFCON champions look before they become AFCON champions.
What would it take for Morocco to convert squad quality into the most difficult prize in African international football? The answer sits at the intersection of history, tactical identity, and a handful of star players whose roles are now clearly defined.
The long arc: how Morocco became “almost” a continental superpower
Morocco’s football reputation has long oscillated between pedigree and frustration. The pedigree is not marketing; it is recorded in milestones.
They won the Africa Cup of Nations in 1976, proving they could manage tournament football at the highest level on the continent. In 1986, Morocco became the first African team to progress beyond the World Cup group stage—an achievement that carried symbolic weight far beyond Rabat and Casablanca. They returned to the AFCON final in 2004, a reminder that Morocco could reach the summit without necessarily being the tournament’s romance team. And in 2022, their World Cup semi-final run transformed global perception from “talented” to “structurally elite,” proving that discipline and identity can travel.
Domestically, Morocco’s football culture is anchored by big-city institutions—most famously Wydad and Raja Casablanca—and a wider Botola ecosystem that has increasingly become a strategic asset rather than merely a local league. That matters because AFCON is often won by teams that blend European-based stars with players who understand the tempo, physicality, and game management of African competition.
Morocco have also built a strong reputation in the African Nations Championship (CHAN), winning multiple editions in recent years. Even though CHAN is not AFCON, it reinforces something important: Morocco’s talent pipeline is no longer purely expatriate.
The paradox, then, is clear. Morocco are not “new money” in African football. They are a heavyweight that has spent decades living with the psychological and tactical burden of under-achievement at AFCON—especially when set against their World Cup peak.
The Regragui blueprint: why Morocco’s system fits knockout football
Under Walid Regragui, Morocco have embraced a pragmatic identity: organised without the ball, dangerous in transition, and increasingly comfortable winning “ugly” matches. That is not a compromise; it is an understanding of AFCON’s physics.
On home soil, opponents defend deeper than they do against Morocco in World Cup qualifiers or elite friendlies. They slow the game, target set pieces, and try to turn crowd pressure into player anxiety. The Tanzania match illustrated this dynamic perfectly: Morocco dominated possession and chances, but the margin remained thin.
To win this AFCON, Morocco do not need to be prettier. They need to be more clinical in four moments:
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Breaking low blocks without losing rest defence.
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Turning set pieces into a decisive weapon.
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Managing game-state—knowing when to accelerate and when to suffocate.
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Converting star quality into repeatable outcomes rather than isolated highlights.
That leads directly to the players.
The spine of a champion: Hakimi, Bounou, and the tournament’s control room
Achraf Hakimi: the captain who changes the geometry
Hakimi’s influence is often framed in athletic terms—pace, power, overlap—but his real value is geometric. He stretches the pitch from right-back, pins wingers deep, and forces opponents into uncomfortable choices: follow him and open space inside, or hold shape and concede Morocco a reliable wide outlet.
Against Tanzania, Hakimi provided the assist for Díaz’s winner and remained a constant threat, including from dead balls. In AFCON terms, that is decisive. Many matches are resolved by one elite action.
In knockout football, his role becomes even more delicate. If Hakimi goes forward, Morocco must protect the space he leaves. This is where the midfield screen—anchored by a disciplined ball-winner—must function as insurance.
Yassine Bounou (“Bono”): tournament security
AFCON champions almost always have a goalkeeper who delivers calm when matches turn chaotic. Bounou fits that profile: authoritative shot-stopping, command of his area, and the psychological assurance that one goal may be enough.
At a home tournament—where nerves can trigger defensive mistakes—goalkeeping is not just a position but a stabilising force. Bounou does not merely save; he reduces panic.
Centre-backs and control: winning the second ball
Morocco’s defenders are built for modern football, comfortable defending space and contributing in build-up. AFCON, however, demands something additional: dominance in unattractive moments. The second ball after a clearance. The wrestling match at the back post. The aerial bombardment when opponents run out of ideas.
Here, Morocco’s European polish must merge with AFCON realism. It is not glamorous, but it often separates quarter-final exits from finals.
The headline act: Brahim Díaz as finisher and pressure valve
If Morocco win AFCON 2025, Brahim Díaz is positioned to be its defining figure.
He is not simply a creator. He is a scorer. He entered the knockout rounds as the tournament’s leading marksman and decided the round-of-16 tie with a single, high-quality finish.
Díaz’s value is threefold:
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He can score without Morocco playing well.
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He operates comfortably between the lines, the most congested zone in African tournament football.
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He lowers the team’s emotional temperature.
That last point matters most at home. The crowd demands dominance; opponents seek chaos. Díaz is the player most capable of refusing the trap.
The supporting stars: multiple routes to goal
Sofyan Amrabat: the risk manager
Every tournament favourite needs a player whose job is to stop ambition turning into self-destruction. That is Amrabat. He wins duels, interrupts counters, and restores order.
If Morocco concede first, his role in the reset phase—slowing momentum and re-establishing structure—becomes critical.
Azzedine Ounahi and the connectors
Morocco’s midfield generation includes players capable of carrying the ball through pressure. Against compact blocks, that five-metre dribble can be more valuable than a 40-metre pass.
Youssef En-Nesyri and the striker dilemma
AFCON is unforgiving on forwards. Chances are scarce, and finishing is psychological. En-Nesyri’s contribution is not only goals but verticality. His presence stretches defences, creates aerial threats, and makes low blocks uncomfortable—even when he does not score.
Hakim Ziyech: the wildcard
Ziyech’s international career has been uneven, but his value remains specific and dangerous: a whipped cross, a disguised pass, a set piece that bends a semi-final. In a long tournament, that can be enough.
Why home advantage cuts both ways
Hosting the Africa Cup of Nations brings familiarity, crowd energy and routine, but it also carries risks that can quietly undermine even the strongest sides. Expectation has a way of compressing time: patient circulation can turn into hurried final balls, and control can dissolve into anxiety when the breakthrough does not arrive quickly. Opponents, meanwhile, often play above themselves, fuelled by the simple but powerful incentive of unsettling the host nation. Every duel feels heavier, every refereeing decision sharper, and every emotional reaction more amplified.
Morocco’s narrow win over Tanzania captured this dynamic perfectly. The Atlas Lions dominated territory and chances, yet never fully escaped tension. Control came without comfort, pressure without separation, and the closing stages carried moments where a single counter-attack could have rewritten the story. If Morocco ultimately lift the trophy, it will be because they learned to accept this reality—understanding that not all victories will be convincing, and that a disciplined “1–0, job done” can be a mark of maturity rather than underachievement.
Bookmark players and defining eras
Every enduring football narrative needs its reference points—players who come to represent distinct eras in a country’s footballing identity. For Morocco, Ahmed Faras stands as the emblem of the 1976 triumph, the moment when continental success was fully realised. Noureddine Naybet symbolised the modernisation of Moroccan defending, anchoring a generation that earned respect across Europe. The 2004 cohort marked the last time Morocco reached an AFCON final, while the 2022 World Cup group redefined global perceptions by showing that Moroccan organisation and belief could overwhelm elite European opponents. Today’s era, led by Achraf Hakimi and Brahim Díaz, is defined less by hope than by expectation—a shift that may matter more than any tactical detail.
AFCON 2025, then, is not merely another tournament. It is a hinge moment between a historic Morocco that occasionally rose to the occasion and a modern Morocco that expects to remain at the top.
The final mile
Morocco do not need miracles to win this tournament. What they require is execution in familiar pressure points. They must score first more often, turning early dominance into control. They must transform set pieces into a genuine weapon, exploiting one of AFCON’s most decisive margins. They must avoid transitional naïveté, where a single reckless moment can undo long spells of authority. Each match will demand at least one decisive contribution from the star tier, while the collective must remain emotionally flat, resisting the temptation to play the occasion rather than the game.
If those elements align, the 50-year wait ceases to be a burden and becomes the headline. And should Morocco lift the trophy in Rabat, AFCON 2025 will be remembered not as a home tournament they were expected to win, but as the moment Moroccan football finally aligned its history, infrastructure and global talent into a continental title.