“Whatever the winner, it’s Africa that will have beaten Africa.” This assertion, uttered by Ousmane Sonko just before the France-Sénégal World Cup match, was perceived by some as a straightforward pan-Africanist sentiment. However, this phrase carries an underlying notion that has fueled contentious identity debates for decades: the idea that Black players on the French national team are primarily African and only secondarily French.

The question warrants a clear examination: who exactly are we discussing?

The French squad competing in this World Cup consists of French citizens. A majority of them were born in France. Kylian Mbappé hails from Paris. Ousmane Dembélé was born in Vernon. Aurélien Tchouaméni in Rouen. William Saliba in Bondy. Dayot Upamecano in Évreux. Ibrahima Konaté in Paris. Rayan Cherki in Lyon. Bradley Barcola in Villeurbanne. Désiré Doué in Angers. Warren Zaïre-Emery in Montreuil. These athletes grew up in France, attended French schools, and were mentored by French educators. They honed their football skills in French clubs, progressing through French training centers before donning the jersey of youth selections and ultimately the national team. They are, unequivocally, the product of a French sports system, funded, structured, and developed within France.

Furthermore, France extends beyond its metropolitan territory. For many decades, its overseas departments and territories have significantly contributed to French football history. Jocelyn Angloma was born in Guadeloupe. Dimitri Payet was born in La Réunion. Other international players have family roots in Martinique, Guadeloupe, Guyane, or La Réunion. These territories are integral parts of the French Republic. Their children possess French nationality just as much as those born in Paris, Lyon, or Marseille. To suggest that a French victory equates to an African victory implies that these players are defined primarily by their parents’ or grandparents’ origins, rather than their nationality, their individual journeys, or their commitment to representing France.

This line of reasoning is far from new.

As early as 1996, Jean-Marie Le Pen launched attacks against the French team. He criticized a selection he deemed comprised of “naturalized foreign players” and faulted certain internationals for not singing the French national anthem, the Marseillaise. He claimed, “Other teams sing their national anthem (…) the French don’t because they don’t know it.” These remarks sparked widespread indignation across the country. Aimé Jacquet, then coach, refused to engage in the polemic, simply stating that the blue jersey was “very well defended.” Captain Didier Deschamps dismissed these attacks outright, declaring, “Le Pen talks nonsense.” Prime Minister Alain Juppé publicly expressed his support for the Bleus, asserting, “After these disgraceful comments, I want to say that we are proud of the players and that, by proudly bearing our country’s flag, they contribute to a certain idea of France.”

The debate could have ended there, yet it has persisted through the decades.

Éric Zemmour, who has faced multiple convictions by French courts for discriminatory remarks and incitement to hatred, has consistently questioned the composition of the French national team. In his view, the significant presence of Black players reflects a transformation of national identity. While the discourse may shift in form, the core idea remains: some French citizens are considered less French than others due to their origins. Following France’s victory against Argentina in the 2018 World Cup, and subsequently after the 2022 final in Qatar, won by the Albiceleste, a segment of Argentinian supporters intensified chants asserting that the French team was African, not French. Various slogans circulated in stadiums and on social media, claiming French players “all came from Africa.” These chants were widely condemned internationally as racist expressions that denied the national identity of French citizens based on their skin color. This context precisely highlights why Ousmane Sonko’s statement is problematic. When a far-right activist in Europe claims that Kylian Mbappé or Aurélien Tchouaméni are not truly French, it immediately triggers a strong backlash. It is equally important to scrutinize when a leading African political figure adopts, even in a different guise, this very same logic. For the underlying message remains identical: Black players on the French team are primarily African before being French.

If Didier Deschamps were to announce tomorrow his intention to select more white players to better represent a particular vision of France, the reactions would be immediate and severe. Ousmane Sonko himself would likely, and rightly, denounce such a selection based on ethnic criteria. Why, then, should we accept the inverse reasoning, which attributes an African identity to French players solely based on their family origins? Football does not select individuals according to their skin color. It selects the best available players. Kylian Mbappé is not chosen because he is Black. Aurélien Tchouaméni is not selected because his parents originate from Africa. They wear the blue jersey because they are French and because they are among the finest footballers of their generation. France has never asked its players to choose between their roots and their nationality. It has asked them to represent their country.

Ousmane Sonko is neither Jean-Marie Le Pen nor Éric Zemmour. However, by stating that “whatever the winner, it’s Africa that will have beaten Africa,” he inadvertently echoes a line of reasoning that defines French players by their origins rather than their nationality. For a political leader of his stature, a former Prime Minister and President of the National Assembly of Sénégal, the remark is far from trivial. For in an eagerness to celebrate Africa universally, one can sometimes inadvertently negate the true identity of individuals: in this specific instance, French citizens playing for France, because they are French.

One final question deserves consideration. During the 2002 World Cup, when Sénégal defeated France, twenty of the twenty-three Lions de la Teranga played for French clubs. Several had been trained in French structures, some were born in France, and the Senegalese team was managed by a French coach, Bruno Metsu. Following Ousmane Sonko’s logic, should that victory for Sénégal also be considered, in part, a victory for France? The answer is unequivocally no. Because those players represented Sénégal. Exactly as the Bleus represent France today. Perhaps therein lies the principal limitation of the Senegalese National Assembly President’s statement.