The end of the African Cup of Nations and Senegal’s win brought up an old but still unanswered issue: is there an ethical crisis in African football? What happened during the tournament shows that the problem is much bigger than just bad calls by one referee or a lack of technical skills. Instead, it points to a deeply rooted cultural mindset in which corruption is expected, accepted, and sometimes even planned for.
During the competition, there were more and more difficulties with refereeing: penalties were given or ignored without any rhyme or reason, clear fouls were missed, and key moments in important matches between footballing powers were not handled properly. It is easy to blame these mistakes on referees who aren’t good enough, but this isn’t a complete explanation. When the same patterns show up in different tournaments, with different generations of officials, and in different host countries, the problem is no longer technical; it is cultural and institutional.
Morocco’s experience in this tournament is very interesting. Even though they spent a lot of money on infrastructure, stadiums, training facilities, and professional organization to make conditions for high-quality football, rival teams and media propagandists kept saying that Morocco was bribing referees or fixing matches. There was no proof that these accusations were true; they were just vilifying propaganda. They came from an unspoken belief that no African football team can do well without being corrupt. Corruption is no longer just something that happens; it is now an idea that is part of the way people think about football in Africa.
We can see this way of thinking more clearly when we look at how historically dominant teams react. Egypt has played in more finals than any other African team and has won the African Cup of Nations seven times, making it the most successful nation in African football history. Cameroon, which has won five titles, is also used to the stress and benefits of finals. Algeria, which has won the championship twice, has recently re-established itself as an emerging winner final. Senegal has now won the championship twice and is now part of this group of teams that have made it to the finals more than once.
It is important to note that these teams, which have been a part of the final stages of African football for a long time, have been the most vocal in protesting referee decisions, accusing corruption, or questioning the integrity of the tournament hosted by Morocco. Their reactions suggest that they are not new to the system, but rather that they know its grey areas very well. In this way, their complaints are not outside of the cultural mindset of African football; they come from within it, showing that they understand the game as something that has always been negotiated not just on the pitch, but also around it.
So, the question must be asked: can teams that have made it to the finals this many times really not know the unwritten rules of African football? Can they really say they are innocent when arguments, protests, and attempts to pressure referees happen at very important times? Or is it more accurate to say that being in the finals over and over again gives you not only sports experience, but also a better understanding of how pressure, disruption, and controversy work in the system?
This way of thinking showed up again during the final between Morocco and Senegal. When the referee called a penalty for a clear defensive foul, the players did not accept the rules of the game. Instead, they protested, caused trouble, and tried to undermine the referee’s authority. This kind of behavior shows a deeper assumption: that results can be changed, that authority can be changed, and that chaos can be used as a tactical tool. This is not how outsiders would react; this is how people who are deeply socialized into a system where the pitch alone is not trusted to determine outcomes would react.
Morocco’s long absence from the African Cup of Nations winners’ list since 1976 is not just a sports statistic; it also says something about society. Staying out of the informal networks, rituals, and unspoken rules that control African football may come at a price. It seems that teams that make it to the finals often are better at both football and dealing with the confusing political and bureaucratic issues of the Confederation of African Football (CAF). In this case, experience is not just athletic; it is also institutional.
This familiarity goes beyond dealing with pressure on the field; it also includes knowing how to deal with a system where corruption, influence, and negotiation are all normal. Over time, these teams develop a cultural mindset shaped by repeated exposure to these grey zones. This is a way of thinking in which success is seen as the result of both good sports performance and smart planning. In this way, playing in African finals isn’t just about sports; it’s also a lesson in how to work in an institution that isn’t working right.
This situation poses urgent enquiries for FIFA and international football governing bodies. Should African football keep working as a semi-closed system that is open to outside pressures and cycles of suspicion? Or should we put in place stricter monitoring systems, make refereeing structures more professional, and, if necessary, bring in neutral referees from outside the continent for important games?
This is a call to protect the game from a cultural mindset that erodes trust. Football can only do well in places where people trust the rules, the system, and fairness. If ethical reform doesn’t happen, African football could turn into a place of suspicion instead of competition, where every win is questioned and every loss is seen as a conspiracy. Not only does African football need better players and stadiums, but it also needs a break from the culture of corruption that has become normalized. Controversies will keep getting in the way of beauty, talent, and promise of the game on the continent until that way of thinking is challenged head-on.