Читать книгу Channeling Moroccanness - Becky L. Schulthies - Страница 15

In 2008, Fez celebrated its founding over 1,200 years ago by Moulay Idriss II, a descendant of the prophet Muhammed whose father, Moulay Idriss I, laid the foundations of the Moroccan state. Arabic of some kind has been a key index of Fez and Morocco since the Idrissi origin story, despite the widespread presence of Amazigh languages. Movement of populations and people, with their language varieties and identities, has been central to the history of Fez, especially its urban life. Moroccans recount and periodize their history as a series of foreign dominations: Phoenicians, Romans, Vandals, Byzantines, Arabs, French, Spanish (F. Laroui 1977). An oft-cited wave of Arab tribal groups in the eleventh century significantly impacted the rural/urban language varieties in the area (Ennaji 2005, 59). In addition, the Maghrib connected West Africa, Europe, and the Arab East through the caravan trade routes (J. Miller 2001), with Arabic as a key lingua franca of those exchanges. Each of these framings has done important work in marking the essence of Moroccanness relationality in Fez.

The city in particular has been oft-characterized as the core founding place of Islam, Arabization, intellectual life, urbanization, and trade in Morocco (Pennell 2003, 33–37). According to nationalist narratives, Fez accommodated refugees from Qairawan (Tunis) in the ninth century and Andalusians, Arabic-speaking Muslims and Jews fleeing the Spanish conquest, from the ninth through the fifteenth centuries. During the twentieth-century French colonial period, administrators attempted a divide-and-rule policy explicitly through educational, linguistic, and legal formulations. They created French schools in Amazigh communities (nominally because they didn’t speak Arabic) and developed a “Berber” legal system based on “customary practice” and not connected to the Moroccan Islamic legal codes (Hoffman 2006). The divisions were not just between Amazigh and Arabs, but among Arabs themselves. The French attempted to educate a corps of elite, modern, French-speaking, civilized Arabs to administer the protectorate without reference to dangerous Pan-Arab and Pan-Islamist ideologies emerging from elites studying in the Arab East (Benmamoun 2001, 100). Fez was one of the places from which the French recruited sons of Moroccan elites to “civilize” through a simplified French-language education in an attempt to break the oppositional power of the Arabic-trained Muslim scholars coming out of the networks created by al-Qarawiyyiin University (S. Miller 2013, 122–23). Founded by a woman from Tunis in the ninth century (in the third century of the Muslim calendar), al-Qarawiyyiin had been granting scholarly degrees and training judges, teachers, and local administrators through its network of Qur’anic schools (Eickelman 1985). In addition to the Qarawiyyiin educational network, Fassi scholars such as Shaykh Muhammad al-Kattani were also involved in mobilizing broad-spectrum opposition among elites, merchants, artisans, rural tribesman, and laborers through Sufi الزاوية (zāwīya). These worship gathering places, both the zāwīya and Qarawiyyiin schools, fostered learning through devotional practices and facilitated social interactions and the discussion of political and religious reform that alternated between supporting and criticizing the sultan (Bazzaz 2010, 4, 9)—all via a mix of orally recited Qur’anic-influenced Arabic and spoken darīja (see Chapter 5). While admittedly only a fraction of the Moroccan population received any degree of schooled literacy training before the mid-twentieth century, many of those trained through the Qarawiyyin system became the drivers of political reform. This included Muhammad ‘Allal al-Fasi, the force behind the independence political party Istiqlal, and Muhammed al-Fassi, the first minister of education in independent Morocco. Fassis claim the colonial francophone policy was successful enough that the post-independence educational policy designed by French-educated Hassan II included French and fuṣḥā Arabic curriculum, despite the protests of Fassi Moroccan nationalists who sought a pan-Arab identity through standard Arabic. In a widely circulated anecdote, one related to me by one of my Fassi colleagues, a member of the committee designated to draft the new curriculum expressed surprise at the changes made to the original draft by Hassan II, especially in regard to the number of Arabic courses replaced by French. When he questioned the king, the response was, “I am bilingual, and I desire all Moroccans to be bilingual like me.”

Since independence, the contribution of Fez to the national imaginary continued, but its economic and intellectual life has withered in comparison to other cities, such as Casablanca, Tangier, Marrakesh, and the capital, Rabat. In the last four decades, urban flows have moved old Fassi elites out of their ancestral, “traditional” ornately tiled courtyard homes in the medina to Rabat, Casablanca, and high-rise apartments and villas of the Fez ville nouvelle (Hachimi 2005; Newcomb 2009). Fassis who moved out of the medina have lamented that the sounds of the street and neighbors’ intimate conversations enter through apartment windows in ways unknown to the quiet interior-facing medina dwellings. They have also decried the rural Arabic and Tarifit (Amazigh language of the Rif mountains) speakers changing interactional space (Porter 2003). Fassis argued that rural folk didn’t understand how to dress, move respectfully, or talk appropriately and had corrupted social relations throughout the city (see El Ouardani 2014 for a rural response to this Fassi urban critique). In addition, the soundscape included Amazigh merchants and entrepreneurs from the Rif, Atlas, and Anti-Atlas Mountains as well as Arab and African migrants fleeing conflict and economic challenges in Syria, Senegal, and Mali. Migration to Europe extended Moroccan exposure to German, Spanish, Dutch, and Belgian language varieties (McMurray 2001), as had the tourist economy. French- and English-speaking foreigners had also taken up residence in the Fez medina, not to mention the hundreds of tourists moving through the city and adding to the sonic features. The sounds of apartment construction, the call to prayer, the rumble of trucks/taxis/cars/motorbikes, pressure cookers slowly preparing dinner, children playing street soccer, men socializing in street cafes, and myriad other sounds indexing various kinds of sociality added to the rich complexity of Fassi soundscapes.

As I have written about elsewhere (Schulthies 2015), self-identifying Arabs have historically marked social distinctions through a variety of classification paradigms, or axes of differentiation, that include nation, state, regional, and social registers:

(1) Arab nation ([al-’umma al-ʿarabīyya]) versus some Other (Turks, Europeans, Berbers, Armenians, Persians) and that does not equate to the Muslim nation ([al-ʿumma al-’islāmīyya]), since it includes Christian, Jewish, and non-Sunni Muslim Arabic speakers as well (Suleiman 2003, 6–15);

(2) Supraregional forms: Maghreb as Arab West (primarily Algeria, Tunisia, and Morocco), Mashreq as Arab East (Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, Palestine), at times including or excluding Egypt, and Khalij as the Arab Gulf, which also either includes or distinguishes Iraq (Hachimi 2013, 270; Holes 2004, 47; and Theodoropoulou and Tyler 2014, 33–35);

(3) Urban-rural divides: badawī Arabic glossed by some as rural or tribal and subdivided into nomadic vs. village agriculturalists, and urban hadārī Arabic, at times indexed as civilized, sedentary (Bassiouney 2009, 19);

(4) Postcolonial national varieties: Egyptian, Tunisian, Iraqi, Saudi, Moroccan (Bassiouney 2010; Suleiman 2011, 51–52);

(5) Intranational isoglosses within a state: Fassi (from Fez), Casawi (western Moroccan), Marrakeshi (from Marrakesh), and Shamali (northern) within Morocco (Hachimi 2012; see Haeri 1997 for the Egyptian context);

(6) Socioeconomic and educational registers such as ʿarabīzī (mixed Arabic and English), ʿarnasiyya (mixed Arabic and French), fuṣḥā (Modern Standard Arabic), street talk (alfahlāwīya, shaʿbīya, hadra dzanqa), and polite speech (Bassiouney 2012, 129; C. Miller 2012, 180–82; Suleiman 2004, 29–34);

(7) A theoretical frame found by linguists to reproduce another axis of differentiation: the standard versus everything else. As they studied Arabic, linguists reproduced, amended, and challenged these difference classifications most often within a diglossic theoretical frame in which the transnational standard, known as MSA or fuṣḥā, was contrasted with all these other “local” distinctions. These axes of difference, while situationally evoked, did important relationality work.

In addition, when discussing the linguascape of Morocco, multilingualism in some form invariably appeared, as seen in the episodes in the Introduction. The degree of diversity points to the difficulty in calibrating these axes of language difference as channels shaping Moroccanness connection. Multilingualism was decried (A. Laroui 1973; Youssi 1995) and touted as a mark of modern identity (Khatibi 1990), depending on the language ideologies adopted by scholars and citizens alike. As related in Chapter 2, some Fassis viewed the national language of Morocco as French-darīja codeswitching, not Arabic. Many scholars extended and simplified Moroccan multilingualism into Standard Arabic, Amazigh/Berber, Moroccan Arabic, and French (Sadiqi 2003, 46; Benmamoun 2001, 97). Elsewhere Ennaji and Sadiqi claimed there were seven languages and dialects interacting in Morocco: Berber, Moroccan Arabic, Classical Arabic, Standard Arabic, French, English, and Spanish (2008, 4). Ennaji (2005), in a volume on education and language policy in Morocco, described the language situation as one of French/Arabic or Berber/Moroccan Arabic bilingualism with Arabic quadriglossia (Classical Arabic, Modern Standard Arabic, Educated Spoken Arabic, and Moroccan Arabic). He further divided Moroccan Arabic into urban and rural varieties with regional variations: Tanjawi, Casawi, Fassi, Marrakeshi (Ennaji 2005, 59). Yossi argued for trilingualism and triglossia: Berber, Arabic, and French with Arabic broken down into Moroccan Arabic, Middle or educated Moroccan Arabic, and Literary Arabic (Youssi 1995, 34, 41). Hachimi echoed the previous language/dialect formulations and examined the outcomes of contact between women speaking two competing Moroccan urban dialects: an old historical urban prestige variety of Fes and a new Casablancan koine tied to the rapid internal migration and urbanization of the mid-twentieth century (Hachimi 2005). In particular, she explored the variability of two phonological features (the Fassi alveolar trilled /r/ as a uvular /ɹ/ and the uvular stop /q/ as /ʔ/) and the gendered identity work linked with their usage among Fassi women who had moved to Casablanca.

These broad categorizations of language varieties did not quite capture the fine-honed sensitivities Fassis had toward linguistic features and regional identity markings I observed in my own fieldwork. They not only recognized, but regularly deployed regional and social features to play with or mock each other through these recognizable social personas indexed through linguistic features. One extended family with whom I studied and worked in Fez hailed from the Arabic-speaking northern Rif Mountains and were known as jbala, mountain folk. The grandfather migrated from the village to Fez in the 1920s and founded a network of communal ovens in the old medina and provided grain from his village during World War II. He married a Fassi woman and had two sons, one of whom grew up speaking old urban bourgeois Fassi and the other a new Fassi koine (Caubet 1993). Both differed in phonological, morphological, and lexical ways from Jebli (mountain jbala) speak. Jebli shared the uvular stop /ʔ/ for /q/ as the old Fassi urban dialect (which the new Fassi koine realized as /q/), but old urban Fassis were known to pronounce the vowels accompanying the /ʔ/ as diphthongs /aj/ or /aw/. In addition, the habitual aspect marker in Jebli third person was /m-/ instead of the urban /k-/ or /t-/ (shared by both Fassi urban varieties). The voiced palatal affricate /ʒ/ was pronounced /z/ in old Fassi and /ʒ/ in Jebli and new Fassi. Jebli and the new Fassi koine both used the alveolar trilled /r/ rather than the old Fassi uvular /ɹ/. There were a number of lexical variants among all three as well (see Hachimi 2005 and Caubet 1993).

Each language variety had identity characterizations or personas associated with it. Old Fassi historically was tied to urban, well-connected, bourgeois elites, civilized, proud, and polite, though it had recently been considered feminine because of its preservation among older women (Hachimi 2005, 41). The new Fassi koine was described to me as a modern urban leveling variety, adopted by a new generation of rural migrants interested in disassociating themselves from the stigma of their origins and indexical of a modern neo-urbanity untied to the Fassi old guard elites. Jebli was an ‘araba, “country/ rural” dialect, and linked to illiterate, uncultured, proud mountain-folk. As mentioned, after independence, Fassi elites moved out of the medina and into the ville nouvelle or to the coastal political and economic centers promoted by the French (Rabat and Casablanca). Arab Jbala, Berbers from the Rif Mountains, and other migrants from the south and east moved into the homes of the Fassi emigrants and altered the linguistic make-up of the medina.

The family mentioned previously were part of this changing soundscape. They had equal access to all three language varieties (Jebli, Old Fassi, and Fassi koine), and the question arose as to why one son affiliated with the speech of his mother (Old Fassi) and the other opted for a variety not spoken by either parent (Fassi koine). The two brothers themselves politely teased each other, attributing the differences to the baraka “blessing” of Moulay Idriss, the founder of Fez. Some family members claimed the old Fassi-speaking son sought to claim an educated bourgeois identity in his social climb out of Jebli origins. By speaking the “feminized” old Fassi, he distanced himself from a rural identity and linked his social connections to old Fassi elites. The other son spoke the new Fassi koine, attaching himself to an urban modernity. Both sons married rural women whose language varieties shifted to the new Fassi koine over time, though they would shift back to their rural forms when interacting with relatives from the countryside. All the children of both families, with the exception of one daughter (of the old Fassi-speaking father), had adopted the new Fassi koine, intertwined with French. In interviews with family members, they were all cognizant of the differences, even teasing each other about their linguistic identities and appropriating Jebli and old Fassi to embody the well-known socially evaluated identity distinctions. To speak, listen, and write in Fez was to calibrate values associated with persona stereotypes of Moroccan relationality, many of which were linked in some way to a form of Arabic. But Arabic was a shifter: it meant different things to different people at different times, as you will read in the coming chapters (see also Schulthies 2015).