Entries Tagged as 'Culture'

Loss of Identity

Yahia is a young Moroccan who has lived in Tangier all his life. In a post titled Loss of Identity he writes:

    Cultural colonization is surely the most dangerous kind there is in the world. It is the only kind where the weapons are in some sense innocuous and go largely unnoticed. I am speaking of books, magazines, teen journals, television and radio programs, all carriers of an outside culture: Western for the most part.
    This might seem racist, but it’s not the case. Morocco is a country open to all cultures, but not to the point that certain ones are instilled unconsciously. Yet unfortunately, that is exactly what has been going on progressively for a good length of time. I think we should reconsider and ask ourselves, “What is our identity?” or rather, “Where has it gone?” Let’s see where we have lost it.

He explains that there are no cartoons for children in Moroccan dialect, and even the ones in Arabic are translated from Western languages. Public education is in Arabic through high school, then switches abruptly to French at the university level. The professional world operates in French for the most part, which he calls “perfectly understandable” since the studies needed to get there are in French, though he adds it is “a pity.” To succeed, a Moroccan must negotiate three language spheres in her life: the Derija spoken by her family and neighbors, the Arabic used in school and official business, and the French of the university and professional world. Yahia calls this “chaos” and I don’t blame him.

His solution, if I understand him correctly, is to promote Moroccan culture in the media, and give Derija and Arabic a more central role in the university and the workplace. He says this will be up to the citizens themselves, because “the officials don’t seem to be interested.”

BO18 is a young Moroccan who has lived all his life in Europe. He is a second generation immigrant from a “Westernized” family. In a post titled The Moroccan Touch he writes:

    I was thinking that I can hardly call myself Moroccan anymore. I don’t know how to make briouat anymore, my Darija is lousier than that of a baby and gossip Maroqui irritates me…. Besides that I just don’t feel really Moroccan. I haven’t been to Morocco for 6 years, I shunned it for its ignorance and other reasons. My reckless idealism decided to play tricks on me and telling me that I should shun Morocco for its backward culture and politics. So I did.

He explains that by “backward” he means a society where “religion and modern conservatism are playing a major role.” Having grown up with the progressive values of the Netherlands, he no longer feels at home in Morocco.

    Now most of the time I dont have any problems with that. I always doubted the validity of a national identity. I mean we all need passports and so on, but it is the feeling that I always questioned. I regard it as dangerous and as a prelude to ignorance.
    …my “Moroccanness” is failing. And you know what? I’m actually proud of it. It takes a lot of practice and time to dispose yourself of the cultural shackles. Its just that you feel naked afterwards, but I don’t have problems with feeling naked.

Identity is a subject that fascinates me, and I made comments on both blogs. My feeling is that in the modern world, we are all mutants and our identity is fluid. Those who are able to reinvent themselves are better suited to living in a changing world. Standing in the way of change is dangerous both to the world and to us. Better to learn to move with it.

On Yahia’s blog I made the following points:

  • Even after fourteen centuries, there are Moroccans who see Arab culture as an “outside culture.” So who is the colonizer and who is the colonized? Is there a single Moroccan identity? Or are there many different identities such as Rifian, Fassi, Soussi?
  • Global commerce, communication and research are conducted mainly in English and French. Access to these languages brings knowledge and opportunity. The Dutch know this. The Japanese know this. “We can complain, or we can prepare ourselves. The rich prepare themselves.” Wealthy Moroccans make a point of Westernizing their children, because it gives them a competitive edge. So identity is a class issue as well as a cultural one.
  • “Loss of identity is a necessary step for all modernizing cultures.” Unstoppable forces are changing the world, bringing cultures into contact that used to be far apart. American hip-hop, Bollywood films, and Chinese consumer goods are all known in Morocco. Even large countries experience a feeling of being at the mercy of globalization, rudderless and adrift. The only alternative is to try to keep out the flood of change, like North Korea. In the end it is hopeless. If the world is an ocean, learn to swim!
  • The fear of losing one’s identity goes both ways. Not only do Moroccans worry about being overrun by Western culture, but the West worries about being overrun by Arabs. Complaints about “lack of assimilation” have been heard about the Arabs in nearly every European country. Tensions flare around issues such as the wearing of headscarves or the publishing of insulting cartoons. In the U.S., the same complaints can be heard about Latin Americans. There are too many, they want a free ride, they don’t learn to speak the language. Poor countries may be concerned about cultural domination, but rich countries are concerned about invasion! Concerns about loss of identity are universal in the modern world.

BO18 has a reponse to this. He tells us that by losing his Moroccanness he has gained something, a better understanding of himself. Indeed, the one may be a precondition for the other. Group identity is like a shell that both protects and conceals the self. Until it is stripped away, Karcherized, one cannot see the self that is hidden beneath. For Socrates, self-knowledge is the goal of the philosopher. In the modern world, it has a more practical value. It offers a far better guarantee of success than tribal loyalty, or loyalty to tradition. Self-knowledge stays with you when tradition does not.

Commenting on his post I told BO18, “You should be proud of losing your identity so you can better define yourself.” He agreed, and this set off a lively discussion. At one point BO18 told Rachid:

    I’m of the opinion that our identity is something we created ourselves. I see it as a process whereby an individual gains and loses interests, cultural habits and opinions. I see it as something dynamic. We are constantly targeted by outside influences and we decide if those influences will have an actual, permanent impact on our lives.

He added that some Moroccans are “too proud” of their Moroccanness, which causes problems for them when they live in a new culture. We went on to discuss the “American identity,” which I defined as “rootlessness and constant reinvention.” Like it or not, willingness to live in the future and not the past gave the U.S. an advantage for most of the 20th century. This success story has set the terms for the 21st century as well. Innovation, not tradition has the upper hand. Tradition is on the defensive, overwhelmed by events.

So what is the place of tradition in our rapidly changing world? Should we just throw it in the trash and move on? What should we do with Andalusian music, the Cathedral of Chartres, Shinto shrines, Moroccan weddings, the Balinese monkey dance, the Qur’an? Everything old gets left behind? I don’t think it has to be that way. Europe is modern and proud of its heritage. Japan is modern and proud of its heritage. There is more than one way to be modern. Any culture can be modern, while still being itself.

The question of “loss of identity” came up last summer as well, as I sat talking with friends in Essaouira. This is what I told them:

    Moroccans need to lose their identity just as Europeans have, in order to reconstruct it. They are already displaced from their past, but they have to accept the shock of that displacement. What they need to do is admit they are lost, then turn their attention to forging a new synthesis, new ways of doing things in the new context. Of course they will borrow from their traditions in doing that, but they need to do this consciously, not as victims but as agents, like the Europeans did.

Foreign Aristocrat

How much can I know? How fast can I know it? I wrote the following words in March 2004, after living in Morocco for nine months. They reflect a confusion I still feel today. Will I ever understand a place where I’m a latecomer, an intruder, where I didn’t grow up? On the other hand, maybe this gives me the freedom to ask questions that Moroccans themselves haven’t thought about, or don’t want to ask. On the “other” other hand, does this do anyone any good, or am I just feeding my vanity? What am I doing writing about Morocco anyway?

— • —

Sometimes I don’t know whether I’m better off playing the foreign aristocrat who sits back and demands what he wants because the people around him are poor, or whether I should try instead to be a “friend of the people” who shares in their joy and suffering and considers himself to be a part of the family. Most often I feel caught in the middle, aware that solidarity can only go so far. After all, my friends are established here. They have their homes, their families, their roots. If I were to disappear tomorrow, they would go on with their lives, whereas I, for all my desire to integrate, have the one great advantage they long for and can’t attain, freedom of movement. This is an imbalance, and it’s not really clear who has the advantage, my friends with their roots here, or me with my money, my passport and my Western education. Still, it makes anything we try to do together seem like a bit of a stretch.

For my Moroccan friends, there must always be the temptation to see me as a temporary resource they should exploit fully before it goes away. It’s reasonable for them to assume that whatever my good intentions, I don’t share their commitment to care for their sick mother, or help their sister find a job. Nor is it logical for them to assume that I would integrate myself to the point of giving up the liberties that come with being an American, just so I can share their struggle from the inside. Cooperation is only possible as a meeting of interests, and when the interests aren’t really the same, the potential for exploitation creeps in on one side or the other.

From my end of things, I’m hungry to attain the degree of intimacy with Moroccan culture that is automatic to someone growing up here. To an outsider, the lack of transparency in the culture can be frustrating. One learns about some things quickly, such as couscous or the djelleba, but the real secrets lie much deeper. It is impossible even to know where to begin, which questions to ask. What is the real significance of Gnawa music, or the philosophy of Moulay Abdeslam? Someone told me that to grasp the evolution of Moroccan culture in its complete context, it would be necessary to master the history of the entire Arab world, the evolution in Islamic thinking from the time of the Prophet to the present, and the history of Western colonialism. Such an effort is possible, perhaps, but it is too much for one person.

This situation is not helped by the fact that most Moroccans today are unable to speak intelligently about their culture. What is the origin of a particular legend, or style of dress, or religious tradition? No one seems to know. The official version of history remains silent on many subjects, and on others it distorts the facts. Yet this lack of self-awareness isn’t really the Moroccans’ fault. Their culture has evolved over the centuries, and is integrated into the rhythm of their daily life. The only way to know it is to live it. Even for a native, it must seem as if the real meanings reveal themselves little by little. No doubt this is true of any culture as rich and layered, even contradictory, as this one, whether here or in China.

While a native Moroccan may at times know less about his own culture than I do, unlike him I can’t fall back on the habit of being Moroccan. His mother’s gestures and expressions, her clothes and the food she makes, are part of his childhood memories. He can always retreat into the comforting embrace of tradition, which is familiar even when it is only poorly understood. As an outsider, I don’t have that choice. What for him is everyday life, for me risks turning into an anthropological spectacle. Because of this imbalance of interests, there is always the possibility for exploitation. The natives are putting on a show for my amusement, and it is necessary to pay for this, but in what coin?

— • —

I’d like to thank adib for inviting me to be part of Maghreb Blog. It’s an honor and a pleasure! This is my first time posting here, and I hope to participate regularly from now on. Meanwhile, if you’d like to know more about me, check out my online library, cultural center and ski resort over here at eatbees.

Quand la réalité dérange .. Vidéo d’I am Censurée

Techniquement impossible de mettre la vidéo sur ce blog .. je vous invite à la visualiser ici .. ou encore la télécharger ici ..

Des images .. on les voit tous les jours .. on les regarde même pas .. ces images des infos .. tant de violances .. tant de massacres .. tant de tortures .. banalisées .. par les films .. les jeux vidéos .. etc ..

mais ces images sont réélles .. ça se passe juste à côté .. dans le monde ..

regardez .. écoutez .. pensez .. fermez cette fenêtre et retournez à vos petites affaires .. et dites comme moi .. celà ne me conserne pas .. telle une autruche .. la tête dans le sable et le popotin à l’air ..
ça ne me concerne en rien .. bon peut être .. à peine .. enfin je pense .. enfin je crois .. enfin je ne sais pas ..

regardez plutôt ..

INDIGÈNES de Rachid Bouchareb

Enfin un film qui parle des 130000 maghrébins qui ont combattu pour la liberté de la France à la grande guerre! un film courageux, des acteurs talentueux et un sujet tres pertinent au moment même ou Mr sarkosy débite sa loi de l’immigration choisie!

jammel debbouze, sami naceri, Roschdy zem et sami bouajila rendent hommage avec brio à ces milliers d’héros, combattants anonymes de la liberté dont la bravoure et le sacrifice est passé sous silence.

Synopsis:

1943. Ils n’avaient encore jamais foulé le sol français, mais parce que c’est la guerre, Saïd, Abdelkader, Messaoud et Yassir vont s’engager comme 130 000 autres “Indigènes” dans l’armée française pour libérer “la mère patrie” de l’ennemi nazi. Ces héros que l’histoire a oubliés vaincront en Italie, en Provence, et dans les Vosges, avant de se retrouver seuls à défendre un village alsacien contre un bataillon allemand.

site officiel du film avec photos, bande annonce et revue de presse

Mythe…

bobbb
 

Il est vrai que le Ché et Bob marly ont des similitudes. Les deux se battent pour une idéologie. Les deux haient l’administration américaine . Les deux se retrouvent avec une poignée de partisans à continuer le combat. Les deux rencontrent par inadvertance la mort, . Ah? On ne sait pas si Bob marly n’a été assassiné? On le saura d’ici là, alors. Artistiquement le ché est beaucoup mieux respeté que bob marly dans la plus part des boites ou bistros branchées on trouve ses portraits et pourtant il n’était pas musicien.quant a bob marly il est présent uniquement aux banlieux chez les jeunes désespérées fumeurs du zetla et du crack . Il est vrai ,qu’on le considérent comme le pére de la music reggae . mais n’oublier surtout pas qu’il est aussi le prophéte des fumeurs.n’est ce pas?

 

fumer c’est dangereux, méme si tu as des problémes,ne touche pas a cette herbe

Caftan Du Maroc fête ses 10 ans.


Adriana Karembou est devenue une fidèle de l’événement. Depuis dix ans, cette initiative lancée par les dirigeants du magazine « Femmes du Maroc »  , essaie de promouvoir l’habit traditionnel marocain.
Rencontres annuelles de talents, où créativité marie couleurs et coupes pour nous offrir chaque année un spectacle magique.
Cette année le caftan s’est fait robe bustier ou encore robe pantalon pour les plus téméraires, d’autres stylistes ont choisi de rester dans la sobriété en conservant au caftan son cachet traditionnel.
Un show qui rappellent les contes des mille et une nuits…
Pour en savoir plus.

Bab El arch on the quest for truth

Bab El Arch (Summer Wedding), is Mokhtar Ladjimi’s latest feature. Mr. Ladjimi, a tunisian movie director, described his work during a recent TV program, as the saga of a young tunisian journalist who is caught between ” intellectual castration and sexual castration” and his struggle against a stifling family and social context. I have not seen the movie yet but the following is an abstract:

Thirty years old and still-unmarried, Hamid ( played by Mohamed Ali Ben Jemaâ) struggles in Tunis to find a way to himself. Working for a local newspaper, he yearns to do great work as a journalist, but struggles under the yoke of censorship by the authorities. At home, he’s caught between one tyrannical brother who lords over the family’s money and honor, and a flashy younger brother who’s everyone’s favorite. All his sick father and doting mother want is for him to settle down and get married to his neighbor, Rim. But marital bliss is the last thing on Hamid’s mind. Mokhtar Ladjimi’s elegant and complex narrative explores the plight of a man straining against the boundary of what society and family proscribe for him. In Hamid’s world, men have all the power—except the power to be, want or do something different. When Hamid crosses the line, there’s no going back.

After an international tour, Bab El Arch returns back to movie theaters in Tunisia, where it has already received mixed criticism mainly for its daring “sexual scenes” and references to issues, considered as taboos, like homosexuality and impotence.

PS: Bab El Arch, literally means in arabic, the door to the throne. El Arch is cited in several sourats in the Quran and it is still considered as a matter of the Invisible world, the unknown realm of Allah. In tunisian dialect we say ” t7ellou bab el arch”, ( the door of the throne has been opened for someone), ie, when someone achieves all of his or her most cheriched dreams and aspirations.

La nouvelle Lara Croft est d’origine marocaine

Karima Tomb Raider

Née au Royaume-Uni, Karima a été élevée au Maroc jusqu’à l’âge de 7 ans, après quoi elle est rentrée à Bethnal Green, Londres, où elle vit encore aujourd’hui. Elle est désormais chargée d’interpréter le personnage de Lara Croft pour la promotion de Tomb Raider, et notamment du prochain jeu Tomb Raider Legend.

Pour Karima, c’est un rêve devenu réalité. Elle avoue être une grande fan d’Angelina Jolie et avoir joué à Tomb Raider par le passé ! D’après elle “Lara Croft est l’une des femmes les plus sexy de la planète, et être choisie pour l’incarner est en soi un énorme compliment. Lors du casting, j’ai du enfiler sa tenue, et la première fois c’était très stressant. Mais c’est un sentiment puissant et excitant de réaliser que vous êtes sur le point de jouer ce personnage de fiction.”

Pour en savoir plus.

Vivant l’Arabe?

Le français a une place de choix dans la blogosphère maghrébine. La quasi-majorité de ses membres a choisi de s’exprimer dans la langue de Molière. Ce qui n’est pas sans provoquer des mécontentements dans des pays où l’Arabe et l’Amazigh sont les langues maternelles.

Pas de doute, l’Arabe perd du terrain du moins sur le net. Pourquoi écrivons-nous en langue française ? Voilà une question qui suscite mille réponses. On peut répondre que c’est un reliquat de l’Histoire et la colonisation. Mais alors comment expliquer que les autochtones du Proche-Orient bloguent majoritairement en arabe ? Peut être c’est une question technique : c’est connu les systèmes informatiques n’aiment pas les caractères non latins. Et l’hébreu ? Et le chinois ? Ils ont été latinisés ces deux là ?

Votre serviteur, ça ne vous a pas échappé, blogue en français. Il pensait que l’écrit n’a pas de langue. Il ne s’est jamais posé la question pourquoi pas en arabe jusqu’à ce qu’on lui la pose.

D’abord c’est la langue que je maîtrise le mieux et qui m’est la moins fatigante à l’écrit. Cela est du certainement à l’influence de mes lectures : depuis l’adolescence je lis habituellement en français. Il était dès lors naturel que je l’utilise quand le désir d’écriture s’est emparé de moi. Ensuite par habitude : dans les débuts d’Internet l’arabe était exclue du tournoi. Lorsqu’on l’a admise à entrer dans la toile c’était trop tard, déjà le clavier qwerty me sort par les trous du nez ! Enfin il y a ce sentiment d’ « écrire contre les miens » sur des sujets difficilement exprimables en arabe. L’acte d’écrire en français se transforme en une tentative d’ « atténuer » mes prises de positions. Ce n’est pas de ma faute si je pense que ma langue maternelle est une langue des interdits et des tabous si bien que pour les contourner je me dois d’utiliser une langue étrangère.

Est-ce que cela fait de moi un « colonisé de la langue des autres » ? Je m’en tamponne le coquillard (qui traduit ?). Mais je vous mentirais si je ne vous dis pas que ça me fait de la peine de voir agonir la langue de Sîbawayh et de mes ancêtres. Heureusement qu’il y a quelques courageux bloggeurs arabophones qui veillent à ce que sa flamme ne vacille pas. Mahckourine.

Inscris…je suis Arabe!

Le poéte palestien mahmoud derwich disait: “Inscris ! Je suis Arabe Le numéro de ma carte : cinquante mille Nombre d’enfants : huit Et le neuvième… arrivera après l’été ! Et te voilà furieux !” Il est arabe,d’acord.. je suis arabe, nous sommes arabes… Mais dans les faits ? -En Syrie : La Syrie octroie des droits assez semblables à ceux des nationaux, mais les Palestiniens n’ont pas de passeport, mais un laisser-passer qui donne des difficultés pour l’obtention des visas. En Cisjordanie : Une partie a un passeport jordanien, bien que vivant en Cisjordanie. D’autres ont un laisser-passer israélien avec la mention de nationalité : indéterminée. Aussi sujet à un renouvellement difficile. Certains ont obtenu un passeport israélien mais renouvelable aussi dans les mêmes conditions. Depuis les accords d’Oslo, les sujets résidant dans les zones A délimitées par les dits accords ont obtenu un passeport palestinien. -En Egypte : Ils y disposent d’un laisser-passer, mais toute sortie de l’Egypte ne leur garantit pas qu’ils pourront y retourner. Les habitants de la Bande de Gaza ont, jusqu’aux accords d’Oslo, bénéficié de ce laisser-passer. Mais là aussi leurs droits, pour ceux résidant en Egypte sont très limités. Il y a d’ailleurs peu de Palestiniens en Egypte par rapport aux autres pays.

Source : france-palestine.org