Africa will send a record 10 teams to the first 48-nation World Cup finals tournament this summer, with Morocco again carrying the continent’s brightest hope after its run to the semi-finals in Qatar. Algeria, Cape Verde, Côte d’Ivoire, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Egypt, Ghana, Morocco, Senegal, South Africa and Tunisia make up the largest African field ever at the tournament.
That is why the expanded format is being searched now: it has opened more doors for Africa than any previous edition, and it has also revived the old question of whether more places mean more chance of a trophy. Morocco’s place at the front of the conversation comes from more than sentiment. It was the first African side to reach the World Cup second round in 1986, and then became the first from the continent to reach the semi-finals in Qatar. Lionel Messi's 2022 World Cup crowning ended years of Argentina pain.
Joseph-Antoine Bell, who was in Cameroon’s squads in 1982 and 1994, does not buy the idea that bigger numbers equal better odds. “Our football is not really improving … we don’t challenge ourselves to be excellent,” he said, adding that Africa has long had talent and still has little to show for it at the World Cup. He pointed to 2010, when some argued that because the tournament was in Africa an African team would win it, and dismissed that logic outright. “Rubbish,” he said. “As far as winning [the World Cup] is concerned, we are not getting more chances.”
The record African turnout also has familiar absentees. Cameroon and Nigeria are both missing, a reminder that qualifying more teams is not the same as closing the gap to the elite. Bell said Morocco are now the continent’s standard-bearers, ahead of Senegal, Côte d’Ivoire and perhaps Egypt, if consistency keeps carrying them forward. “Many see Cameroon as the pacesetter in African football but Morocco are the real leaders,” he said. “If you’re there every time and you improve each time, you can hope to go further.”
There is still a sharper edge to the story than the numbers alone suggest. Africa had only one team in the 1990 quarter-finals, when Cameroon beat Diego Maradona’s Argentina before losing 3-2 to England, and since then the continent’s sides have been long on promise and short on delivery. Even the expanded tournament does not change the basic task Bell set out: the first round is no longer the measure, because the target remains winning the World Cup itself.
For Senegal, the race to the finals carried its own drama before the first ball was kicked. Pape Thiaw initially refused to board the plane in Dakar because the federation had not paid him several months’ wages and he had been working without a contract since January, until the Senegalese government stepped in at the last minute to resolve the impasse. That episode captured the wider problem behind Africa’s record representation: progress can be real, but it is not yet the same thing as power. The question now is whether Morocco can turn the continent’s best case into something larger before the tournament ends.
