In this lecture I explore the racial politics underlying the identity category of Berber/Amazigh as it develops in colonial North Africa and comes to be reinvigorated in the postcolonial Maghreb and beyond. With a particular focus on the southeastern oases of Morocco, I sketch the colonial logics which divided Berber (or Imazighen) "autochthons," understood as superficially Muslim, from local Jewish and black Haratin/Iqablin "allochthons" and the consequences of such a divide for local social relations and their subsequent transformations. How does contemporary Amazigh activists’ discursive embrace of secularism and philo-Semitism contribute to local landscapes of racial inclusion and exclusion?
Hello everyone, I'm Ali Bedhad, the Director of the Center for Near
Eastern Studies um here at UCLA and on behalf of my
colleagues, I would like to welcome you all to today's lecture by
Professor Paul Silverstein entitled "Berbers, Blacks, Jews:
The Colonial Legacies and Racial
Politics of the Amazigh Revival." And before I turn the virtual podium to
my dear colleague Aomar Boum who will
introduce our distinguished speaker, I would like to
point out that this lecture is part of our
two-year Mellon-funded project that aims
to implement the first phase of what we
hope to be a larger
curricular initiative to transform
Middle Eastern studies at UCLA.
Our project, this particular project,
focuses on ethnic and religious minorities
in the Middle East and North Africa and beyond. And we
use a series of scholarly lectures and workshops,
a visiting scholar program, and
pedagogical training for graduate students,
and community based initiatives that
provide opportunities
for high schools, community colleges, and
universities to participate.
We hope to use the minority lens and to highlight
the larger social, political, and cultural and
economic and legal issues at the core of this sort of new
AMENA societies. So I would like to
take this opportunity to thank the
Andrew Mellon foundation for their generous grant
that has made this and all our
initiatives on the topic of Minorities in the Middle East
uh possible, as well as all my colleagues
and graduate students who have been working on this
project. The list of names
are too long for me to go on at this
point. I now would like to briefly uh
introduce our wonderful colleague
Aomar Boum who is a sociocultural
anthropologist as many of you know.
And also he's the program director of
our Mellon Grant on Minorities in the
in the Middle East. Aomar's a stellar ethnographic
work addresses the place of religious
and ethnic minorities
in MENA region. He has published widely
on this topic. His publication
includes an important book, Memories of
Absence: How Muslims Remember Jews in Morocco
by Stanford University Press that has
been translated in several languages
including Hebrew. And recently, a co-edited collection
with Sarah Stein entitled The Holocaust and
North Africa which was published by
Stanford University Press as well.
And so now I would like to invite Aomar
to introduce our speaker,
thank you. Thank you, uh Ali
and I would like to thank Alim for
allowing us to host, for hosting,
at least partly this talk and for accepting to host
the Center for Near Eastern Studies Mellon
Minorities talk.
Dr. Silverstein is a Professor of
Anthropology at Reed College
a Cultural Anthropologist of North Africa and
the North African Diaspora. Dr.
Silverstein holds a PhD in Anthropology
from the University of Chicago. He is the
author of Postcolonial France:
Race, Islam and the Future of the Republic
published by Pluto in 2018
and Algeria in France: Transpolitics,
Race, and Nation published by Indiana
University Press in 2004.
He's also co-editor with Ussama Makdisi
of Memory of Violence and– sorry Memory and Violence
in the Middle East and North Africa in
2006 by Indiana University Press.
And with Jane Goodman of Bourdieu in Algeria: Colonial,
Politics, Ethnographic practices and Theoretical Developments published
by Nebraska in 2009.
His work appeared in many edited volumes and academic journals.
Dr. Silverstein is one of the most
prolific anthropologists of North Africa and Europe today.
He has published on immigration, race
and ethnicity, nationalism, colonialism
and post-coloniality, cultural politics,
sports, urban anthropology, historical anthropology,
practice theories, Marxian and post-Marxian theory,
Islam, urban activism, and France, North Africa and the Middle East.
He's completing an ethnography on
Amazigh Berber ethnopolitics,
historical consciousness, and development in Southeastern Morocco
and has been pursuing new research on
the history and politics of immigrant labor
in the coal mines of post of post-war Europe.
He chairs the board of directors of the
Middle East Research and Information
project otherwise known as MERI. I personally believe that
one of the most important contributions
of Dr. Silverstein remains his ability to describe and
analyze through ethnographic work
grounded in historical understanding, how race
and ethnicity play out in North Africa
and Europe, especially in France, by focusing on the
dynamics of Islam, Arabness, Frenchness,
Race and Amazigh identity. Over 20 years of research and academic
publications on Morocco, France, and other European
spaces, Dr. Silverstein followed Berberness
from the hinterland of Southern
Morocco to French and other European metropoles.
And in doing so he was able to capture the nuances
in shades of race, ethnicity, and religion,
mostly as they play out
in North Africa and Europe through the process
of Migration and Colonialism. Without further ado
please join me in welcoming Dr.
Silverstein. Thank you, Aomar [...] for that
incredibly generous uh introduction. Um,
I'm gonna share my screen. Uh, so I do
have a powerpoint. A very
simple one, um just so you're looking at
something other than myself um, but otherwise um,
oops there we go, that gives you
something really nice to look at. Um,
this is, thank you again, to everybody for
coming, thanks to everybody uh for including me in this
really exciting Mellon
series on Minorities in the Middle East
And North, Africa as Ali has described.
Um, it's really a great project and I feel very,
very privileged um and thankful to be part of it.
um even in this minor way. Um, as uh I think
Aomar gestured too, I wanna share some of
the ethnographic and archival research
I've been pursuing over the last couple
decades on the Amazigh revival in
Southeastern Morocco and beyond. This is, um
the kind of image I'm showing is a
little bit of, give you a sense of where I'm
doing the research in the Southeastern
Moroccan oasis.
Throughout the period of the French
protectorate in Morocco from 1912 to 1956,
administrators elaborated a series of
overlapping racial, conspatial
boundaries that effectively divided
the realm between Muslims and Jews,
between an ethnically Arab
north and a Berber south between a
centralized administrative [...]
and a region of tribal dissidence of the [...]
between the economically exploitable and in
French, "le Maroc utile,"
the useful Morocco and the areas
which had little chance of "mise-en-valeur,"
Of development, le Maroc inutile, between
juridical zones of sharia courts
of [...] jurisprudence and those regulated by
Berber customary law or "Azerf"
as well as between variously identified
psychological and ecological
races. In this lecture, I want to interrogate
further the liminal ethnoracial category
of Berber, or Amazirgh,
as we now say, as it developed in
colonial North Africa and comes to be reinvigorated
in the contemporary transnational Amazirgh revival.
With a particular focus on the
Southeastern oasis of Morocco, again, as the– gives you a sense of the
image here, I will sketch the colonial military,
administrative, and scientific logics
which divided berber or Amazirgh [...]
from local Jews and black Haratin
or locally known where I did the research [...]
And the consequences of such
divides and potential reproachments
for local social relations and their
transformations in the wake of Moroccan independence.
I'm going to particularly examine how
complex questions around race and religion
come to underwrite, indeed even haunt
contemporary activism around the Amazigh culture, language, and
land, where a discourse of avowal, of
secularity, and even phylosemitism
positions local Amazigh militants against
burgeoning Islamic piety movements
and where an ambivalent embrace of
Africanity remains in tension with
ongoing local struggles between
increasingly segregated
and racialized Amazighian [...]
over economic and political resources. As
I will argue, these relations differently
figured in the rural oases in urban Morocco
and in the diaspora are increasingly framed,
particularly among the younger
generation, by the Palestinian
transnational solidarity movements
and by a global racial discourse on
blackness and whiteness,
that variously include or exclude Arabs
and Blacks in particular from Amazirghness
and [...] for the Amazigh people
from Arabness and blackness.
Now just to be clear, for some of those
in the audience, I am not arguing
that the various peoples who speak the
Amazigh languages were somehow invented
by Arab or French colonizers. Indeed
their historical and ongoing courageous
resistance to such colonizing forces
is remarkable. We can't say enough about it.
Nor am I arguing that anti-black racism
is somehow endemic to Amazigh
North Africa. What I am trying to get at
is how these various peoples
have come to recognize their language
and practices as part of a shared and bounded culture,
which is which has become viscerally
meaningful as such
and the object of today's often fierce
political struggles.
At stake is how differently racialized
demands for equity and inclusion
coalesce and compete for scarce ethical
political resources.
How rival de-colonial tactics of
strategic essentialism
play out differently across local,
national, and transnational scales
of empowerment, of an engagement.
Much has been written on the role of
racial classification in the
consolidation of French rule in North Africa.
Literature to this point has focused on
dividing rural strategies
built around postulated ethnoracial,
religious, and ecological, divides between
Muslims and Jews between sedentary
Berbers and nomadic Arabs.
These heuristic dichotomies function
relatively well in 19th century Algeria,
the heir of the Ottoman millet system, with Jews
broadly in urban [...] and
Arabic and Berber speakers [...]
on the aggregate, respectively occupying
the urban plains and rural mountains.
Racial and religious difference thus
seemingly mapped directly onto the physical landscape,
with the latter naturalizing the former.
Moreover, such spatial markers
substantiated a temporal ideology
that posited the relative autoctany of
berbers protected in their mountain redoubts
from the imperial projects of successive
Phoenician, Roman, punic Arab and Ottoman invaders where
they selectively adapted
uh Judaism, Christianity and later Islam
but without erasing their Berber
specificity.
If French colonial officials understood
their own civilizing mission as a
historical recapitulation of the Roman
imperium, they nonetheless
ethically legitimated their project
as a means to liberate their
authentically Mediterranean, if not Proto-European,
Berber subjects from what they took to
be the ravages of Arabo-
Islamic despotism. And what has become
known as in the scholarship as the
Berber vulgate, colonial ethnologists
supplemented geographic and
archaeological arguments for Berber
primitivism with psychological and sociological
claims of Berber compatibility with
secular modernity and thus as potential allies in eventual Évoluer.
They reinvigorated Ibn Khaldun's
theory of tribal asabiya
to emphasize a Berber mode of communal
solidarity independent of
palace or mosque structures. They put
into village assemblies and customary
tribunals as incipient democratic institutions.
Moreover if in the eyes of Western
observers, Berbers manifested a primitive
independence that bordered on violent
anarchy. This made them simultaneously less susceptible
to religious fanaticism and fatalism.
Early military scholars like general
Eugène Dumas noted that Algerian Kabils, "Have
accepted the Quran but have not embraced it." Unquote. Noting
that their worship of saints and
reliance on marabout, or [...]
as well as their inconsistencies in
observing daily prayers, Ramadan fast, and
prohibitions on alcohol and pork.
With Islam constituting but a, quote,
"superficial varnish,
a simple stamp, a feeble imprint, unquote,"
the Kabils' potential transformation
into laborious colonial subjects was
understood to be comparatively unencumbered.
Throughout the colonial period, officials
attempted to reinforce the separation
of putatively secular secular pagan
Berbers from Arab Muslims and Jews,
through diverging educational policies
in separate administrative and legal regimes.
Such a racial taxonomy required much
ideological and bureaucratic labor to supersede
the heterogeneous material and cultural
realities that administrators actually encountered
whether in urban or rural zones.
Even the most isolated mountaintop
village had been connected to cities and
coastal ports through centuries of
economic and religious exchange.
Sufi brotherhoods crisscrossed north
Africa with lodges and properties
in both cities and marginal villages. In
many cases they constituted the bases
for translocal, political movements.
The geographies of Jewish sainthood
overlapped and interpenetrated Sufi
milieus with healers serving
all faiths in rural areas. Pilgrimage and
religious travel not only organized
annual mass departures to distant holy
lands but also knitted together the
North African landscape
in smaller scales of ritual festivals or
individual pursuits of [...].
Berbers, Arabs, and Jews and other
overlapping racialized groups
shared in these spiritual journeys,
innovating religious and linguistic
creoles in the process.
In like fashion, networks of trade
stretched across the entire region. This
included various classes of merchants
often as Aomar and Daniel Schrader have
shown involving Jews and Muslims in
complex long-distance relationships who served as
intermediaries between pastoral herders,
sedentary agriculturalists, and urban artisans.
Villagers frequently sold their labor in
cities or in neighboring regions during
harvest times and vast numbers of rural
folk became permanent migrants as a result of drought
or upheaval. If endogamy functioned as a
normative practice to maintain group
boundaries, polygamy,
concubinage, and matrimonial strategies
multiplied unions between lineages as
well as between ethnic and more rarely
religious groups.
As a result of centuries of such
mobility, exchange, affinity, and alliance,
French administrators did not actually
encounter pristine ethno-linguistic
racial or religious groups firmly
bounded and easily identifiable by language,
physionomic, traits,
cultural forms, spiritual practices, or
psychological dispositions,
but rather dynamic populations with
complex social interrelations,
living for the most part in vast
multilingual contact zones or
heterogeneous cities.
Now this is not to claim that the
distinction French military scholars
drew between Arabs, Berbers,
Jews, and others was entirely arbitrary
or the pure figment of an orientalizing
gaze that imputed a eurocentric
racial taxonomy on an amorphous landscape.
North African populations by no means
embrace fluid or hybrid identities in a postmodern sense.
Muslims may have foregrounded their
community of faith and kinship to other
peoples of the book over social rank, class, or ethnic
background but they nonetheless
accumulated genealogical capital
and fetishized origins as strategies of distinction.
Through toponyms and Teknonyms, groups
traced their honorable ancestry or [...]
to a renowned place or to a famous
forebear. Sometimes to the prophet or to one of his companions.
Through naming, conversion, and marriage
practices some rural berber-speaking
families assimilated themselves into
Arabness or sought to purify their
lineages from what they considered to be lowly categories
of people as marked by religion, skin
color, or profession.
In other words, the French racial
ideology was itself everywhere in
dialogue with indigenous modes of
social classification with processes of distinguishing self
from various others. As Chouki El Hamel
has described in his book "Black Morocco,"
the Moroccan social landscape was marked
by quote, "Zones of cultural exchange,
borrowing mixing and creolization,
as well as violation, violence,
enslavement, and racially
segregated zones in which any definition
of race in a Moroccan context
is fluid and flexible and resists
facile analyses," end quote. So I hope my
analysis is not facile.
I want to argue, hopefully not in a facile way,
that it is in the confrontation and
collusion of these different modes of classifying
that relatively mutable and internally
heterogeneous racial categories
became ideologically segmented and semantically fixed.
One site where this dialogic of racial
classifications can be seen in stark
relief is in the frontier contact zone
of the Moroccan pre-Sahara.
On the southeastern margins of the
French protectorate, the pre-Saharan
oases were not pacified until the early
1930s. A good 20 years after the establishment of the
protectorate. Until then they were the
epitome of the historical [...],
inconsistently subject to administrative
reaches and tax collection
of the Moroccan [...], the central state.
While successive sultanates including the Alawi monarchy
now in power since the 17th century
trace their origins to these very same southeastern oases,
their authority over these frontier regions remained
primarily limited to the mediation of local [...]
or the occasional military expedition.
Unable to initially establish presence
in the region, the French colonial
administration relied on native
informants, historical documents,
comparative ethnographies, travel
narratives, and espionage
to build a base of knowledge of the
local, social, and political structure.
A simple Arab-Berber dichotomy imported
from Algeria proved grossly insufficient
to account for the oasis social complexity
comprised of Arabic and Berber speakers,
Muslims and Jews, lighter, and
darker-skinned peoples, nomads and
sedentary populations,
and a host of other overlapping and
dynamic groupings determined by occupation,
descent, and tribal affiliation.
Administrators approached the region as a geographical
contact zone between a Northern white Africa
and a Southern black Africa, a racial
spatial category which they borrowed
from the Arabic [...] Sudan
which itself was borrowed from classical
Greek geographic texts.
As a median region, the racially
variegated populations of the
southeastern oases were posited to be
the result of the progressive settlement
competition and intermarriage of groups
migrating from either side of this
racialized geographic divide.
In this vision, the southeastern Moroccan oases were
characterized in the colonial discourses by way
stations along trans-saharan caravan routes
and sanctuaries for refugees from
insecurity elsewhere.
The oases were thus presented as having fleeting form
rather than deep structure.
In their puzzling over these peripheral
regions, French military ethnologists and
later indigenous affairs officers
particularly struggled over the origin
and socio-political situation of Jewish and black
populations. Debates raged and to a
certain extent continued to rage
over whether the Tamazight-speaking Jews
residing in the Mellah quarters of the oases
walled adobe construction, the [...] or the Ighreman,
and here's a picture of one ighrem,
one ksar and another also from the region.
And a picture of a Mellah, a Jewish quarter
whether these residents of such Mellahs
were Berberized Jews or Judaized Berbers. While the Mellahs
themselves like this one
were built or perhaps rebuilt in the
past 200 to 300 years,
archaeological evidence from local
cemeteries point to an even longer
Jewish presence
in the region. Primarily relegated to
crafts and trade and no longer sustained
by the increasingly interrupted saharan
commerce, Jewish residents took advantage
of new opportunities for mobility opened
up by the French protectorate
um and the relative pause in
inter-tribal conflict and the build-up
of road and urban infrastructures. Many abandoned the Mellahs.
This is in the 1930s through the 1970s,
for the newly constructed colonial town centers
where they manned shops and cafe bars
and where they were joined by other
Jewish merchants
having migrated with the
French forces from the Middle Atlas
towns of Meknes and Sefrou.
Nearly all left for Israel after
Moroccan independence but as Aomar has
traced in the southwest
of the country, their presence lives on
in material traces in the memories of older residents and
as, we shall see,
in the ideology of Amazigh as
activists for whom Jews are good to
think about the fate of diversity
in an Arabo-Islamic world.
The oases' black residents have posed a
different kind of problem for colonial
French administrators and post-colonial
Amazigh militants.
In general, protectorate officials
justified their de facto tolerance of
racial inequality and even residual
slavery in Morocco, the latter condoned by some Islamic
jurists, as long as those enslaved were
not Muslims,
through a myth of Islamic societies as
relatively colorblind.
Clearly such claims to a raceless
Morocco begged a number of questions,
including the historical conflation of
blacks of Sudan with slaves [...] and their occupation of
the lowest social ranks in rural communities.
Long-standing folk stereotypes and
mythologies have associated black skin with
animality and carnality as [...]
has documented in the [...]. Such ideological
justifications for the historical
oppression of black Africans regardless
of religion persisted deep into the 19th
century and their traces continue
in everyday attitudes which treat
blackness in Morocco as inauspicious.
Darker skinned sedentary populations have
occupied the southeastern Moroccan oases
long before the settlement of any
particular pastoral Amazigh or Arab tribe
to whom they were in relations of
dependence, patronage, and protection
and were primarily relegated to farming,
irrigation, and blacksmithing work.
Generally, references Haratin but calling
themselves [...], those from the direction of the Qibla are [...]
in different parts of the
Southeast. Those of the market are [...],
for instance. Those of the simply Draa valley.
they were distinguished from formerly
enslaved Africans or [...]
by appearance, occupation, and freedom of mobility.
They were nonetheless for the most part
reduced to servile rules as in serf
laborers for the dominant Amazigh
and [...] notables and the object of
local prejudice.
Well, white oases residents following
normative practices of endogamy
often refused to marry their children to
Haratin who they characterize as being
without honor or [...]. Or even more
lowly uh and even more lowly or perhaps
even more degraded than [...]
who in some cases resided with Amazigh
and [...] notables in their households as domestic laborers.
If not legally enslaved, Haratin share
croppers were historically treated as
enslavable. In 1699, Moulay Isma'il
the sultan at the time, over the
objection of certain jurists who argued
for the protection of all peoples as Muslim subjects,
justified the forced conscription
of Morocco's black populations into his
slave army, his [...]
on the basis of their supposed history
of prior enslavement.
Well the term Haratin likely derives
from Berber color term [...]
meaning dark or reddish, or possibly from
the Arabic verb, [...]
to cultivate. It was and remains commonly translated
in across in popularly in Morocco as [...]
as freedom of the second order.
Indeed, black residents of the oases did
historically have something like
second-class citizenship
with only secondary access to land and
water rights and no political representation
in local tribal assemblies or to
customary tribunals.
Many were forced to sharecrop the
fields and trees owned by the pastoral
tribes as as [...], as sharecroppers
working one-fifth
of the cultivated grains, dates, and olives.
Through ritual sacrifice, they entered
into formal relations of clientelism
with, given white lineages seeking their
protection from the ravages of war and drought,
these patron client relations have
tended to endure even after the
termination of formal share cropping
contracts such that to this day some
Amazigh and [...] in the region
point to given black co-residents as our Haratin.
French colonial officers took the
apparent dependent status of oasis
blacks and Jews as a pretext to exclude them
from colonial political negotiation and
administrative collaborations which they
undertook with the Shurafa and Amazigh tribal notables.
The historical degradation of black
Moroccans is enslavable and of Jewish
Moroccans as protected subjects and their protective
and their progressive administrative
disconnection from the territories inhabited
further marginalized them from the
protectorate racial category of Berbers
as well as from the post-colonial um
Amazigh category or activist category of Amazigh.
In spite of the overlapping linguistic
competences and cultural practices
that blacks and Jewish oasis residents have with those
of formerly pastoralist lineages who
more easily get identified and identify
themselves as Amazigh.
From the early period of the French
protectorate, officials and scholars
define Morocco as essentially an original, originally a
black a Berber country
that had been subsequently "penetrated" by
other races. This is their terms,
penetrated by other races
of Arabs, Moors, Jews, and Blacks who
remain by definition
permanently [...] even if they themselves
could trace, you know, ancestry to the
region and had lived in these regions for
millennia. Such racializing distinctions
bolstered through criminological
photography, such as we see
in the image here, these are images taken
and classified in local colonial reports.
We're further substantiated by the
military logic which ordered the protectorate.
French military scholars presented
Berber-speaking pastoral tribes as
martial peoples par excellence
and compiled intelligence dossiers "fiches de tribus"
that evaluated their warrior value,
their "valeur guerriere" of each tribe
alongside their geography, ethnography, and history.
In general, colonial officers
characterize tribes like the [...]
of the [...] valley as uncontestedly
"good warriors, courageous and steadfast. That was a"
quote. While Jews and Blacks were
qualified as quote.
Worse than mediocre. Such a portrayal of Berbers of
Amazigh peoples as a martial race and
the exclusion of Blacks
and Jews from the category of Berberness
dovetails with indigenous social
taxonomies in the oasis.
For [...], men much like their rival
[...] documented by David Hart, the
capacity for armed warfare
constituted the primary index of
their awesome, the insurance of their honor,
and the condition of possibility for
remaining "free men"
which is often the common translation of of Amazigh.
In contrast, Blacks and Jews were denied
the right to bear arms in the oasis.
After submitting to the French army,
Amazigh men living in the oases only
reluctantly gave up their rifles and
moreover refused to adopt a fully
sedentary lifestyle
of agricultural work or wage labor
associated with Blacks or with poor
women. To this day, many [...] men
in the region regard the days of [...],
the days of dissidence, with a certain nostalgia.
They've cultivated a detailed historical
consciousness of their heroic battles
against rival tribal confederations,
French forces, of pacification and the post and even
the post-independence Moroccan state,
and they still see themselves in
permanent resistance to the [...].
Through their, through the installation
of formerly dissident white
tribal leaders as local [...] and [..]
according to a general policy of
indirect rule, colonial officers further sutured the
equation of martial qualities with tribal
identity and the racial boundaries of
Berber-ness.
In spite of their putatively Jacobin
ideology of Republican equality
and their self-presentation as
emancipators of Blacks and Jews from
Arabo-Islamic despotism
and their eventual encouragement of
black representation in local village
assemblies, these French administrators
prioritize local social order
and did not attempt to reform oasis
sharecropping or patronage practices.
Black oasis residents thus remained in
the eyes and structures
of the French tribal administration in
an effective state of second order
freedom and incipient in serfability effectively
laboring bodies with little or no political status.
Sorry, moving ahead of myself.
Balancing their concerns for order and
stability, local colonial administrators
were simultaneously charged
with furnishing workers and soldiers for
the farms, mines, factories, and trenches of northern
Morocco and France
and thus indirectly encourage physical
and social mobility.
Much more so than Amazigh and [...] men
who appeared disinclined to engage in
manual labor of any kind
and were further reluctant to relinquish
the oversight of their agricultural
patrimony, black sharecroppers lacking in property
were often– were offered and quickly embrace the
possibility of earning wages
in northern Morocco or abroad. Working in
occupations that paralleled their labor
specializations in the oases as water
carriers, as tanners, butchers, cultivators,
and construction workers,
black oasis men moved in large numbers
throughout the 1940s, particularly to
Casablanca where they established a semi-permanent community.
Subsequently in the 1960s, a number went
on to work in the coal mines in northern
France though the chief recruiter from a former
indigenous affairs officer Felix Mora favored
white Berber men according to his own racial taxonomy
where he considered them more physically
robust and psychologically stable for
the challenging underground work.
In contrast those from Amazigh and [...]
notable families many of whom
would go on to garner permanent posts in
the military or in
the post-independence Moroccan
administration. In contrast to them,
black immigrants across the generations
have maintained closer ties to the oases
and have been able to translate their
accumulation of short-term migrant
economic capital into longer-term social and political
capital, what some have characterized as their
final emancipation.
They used immigrant remittances to
purchase historically Amazigh
and [...] land and in doing so
established a modicum
of symbolic [...]and local prestige as
Hussein [...] has documented for the
neighboring Ziz valley,
these developments actually help produce
a black sense of community and ethnic
consciousness
for what amounted to the demographic majority of
southeastern Morocco.
In the [...] valley where I do my
research around the town of [...],
this transformation in the local
racializing political landscape is manifest.
Already in 1947, Captain [...]
predicted that the times were changing
quote, "The harder working Haratin are a bit
by bit buying back the lands of the [...]
that the [...] had usurped from them
and they will end up constituting an
aristocracy of money
that will replace the aristocracy of
race. Unquote."
By 1950, Haratin descendants had gained
uh representation in the village
assembly and after Moroccan independence
became an increasingly important electoral bloc in
the local municipal and communal councils.
In subsequent years the return of black
immigrants and then continued out
migration of white murad men and women
further tipped the demographic balance
in the region in favor of the former
who now constitute upwards of 80 percent
of the population.
Local politics has become very much a
black and white affair,
with elections cons contested by
candidates that are sometimes that are
often racially defined
and local oversight positions such as
the [...] or the [...]
the irrigation administrators, split or
twinned accordingly.
This racialized transformation has
provoked widespread social anxiety
among the local like Murad and other
self-identified Amazigh residents of the
southeastern oasis and to a great extent
has spurred the rapid growth of an
Amazigh cultural revival in southern
Morocco since the early 1980s.
The Amazigh movement was originally
organized by students in Rabat,
as a salvage anthropological operation
to collect berber folklore, oral poetry,
music, and performance traditions
in the hopes of garnering the official
recognition of the Amazigh language and culture
and their insertion into the state
school of media. The movement has taken
on multiple local ramifications in the
southeastern oasis where cultural associations such as
Tilelli or freedom,
um one from, based in Goulmima
um who are shown marching here in 1993
in Errachidia
um where they flourished since the early 1990s.
In fact this is a march that set off and
they become very important, this was a
march that actually
set off in some ways on the the official
recognition of Amazigh language and
culture in Morocco, the arrest of this six or seven
people um seen here
led to um an international outcry
and a change of state policy.
In the [...] valley, local immigrant
school teachers such as
some of these pictured here travel to
remote mountain villages to record
the repertoires of octogenarian poets.
Others hardly transcribe the oral history of
the older generation and still others have trans
has courageously fought for the
preservation of traditional
architectural forms
and the protection of [...] remaining
collective lands from confiscation by the state
or the sale to private investors. This is by the way, this
Amazigh movement has flourished over
the last um 20 years. Ym such that now you see
protests very large protest march
marches happening across Morocco
whether as part of the broader uprisings
of after 2011 or more recently.
Here, if local activists certainly
appreciate the modern technological
innovations and communications networks
that permit their activities and underwrite
the framing of transnational Amazigh culture
and territoriality um that allows for
the connections that allow
for urban activists here to connect them
to the rif we see a picture here of um [...]
the great resistance fighter to
French and Spanish colonialism and then
in the nineteen teens um.
The framing of the discourse in really
truly international global terms.
Um if this is truly appreciated, uh many
nonetheless many local [...]
activists are simultaneously nostalgic
for an old local order
of pastoral honor and moral rectitude.
They look on a horror as they see landless [...]
landless their landless cousins so
financially destitute as they have to
share crops sometimes
even in the fields of their own former
black sharecroppers.
Others bemoan what they see is
increasing number of thefts in the oasis
which they attribute to
youth no longer as respectful of social
control once exerted by [...]
elders. In this local activist
nostalgia for the days of
dissidence and pastoral nobility is the
very absence of Jews
that make them good to think.
This is uh shows you how much the modern
state has taken on the
the mantle of of Amazigh culture.
It's the very absence of local Jews that
make them good to think
for Amazigh activists. Memories of
familiar relations with Jewish neighbors
gestured to former times when Amazigh
notable lineages could offer hospitality and protection
on their own terms. Jewish material
traces such as these headstones
from the local cemetery offer temporal
outside to the hegemonic Arabo-Islamic time space
of Moroccan nationalism built around
Salafi reformists and school textbook mythologies of
Berber Yemeni origins and their later re-civilization with the
arrival of Islam.
Jewish traditions and technology
materialize a robust oasis civilization
before Islamic civilization a time
before religious nationalist time
in which the Amazigh movement strives to
resurrect in modern form.
To the public presence of a
contemporary Salafi pietism
past Jewish Amazigh coexistence points
to an incipient secularism
or at least an ecumenicalism
as [...] describes, latent in the oasis.
Indeed Zionism presents a positive model
for Amazigh aspirations and a number of
activists have publicly called for
reconciliation and normalization with Israel
rather than the hegemonic solidarity
with the Palestinian cause.
In Goulmima, neighboring Tinjdad where
this picture is taken, um [...] activists
have taken stewardship
of the abandoned melas and cemeteries
unearth Jewish artifacts and prominently
displayed them in local museums of Amazigh
And jewish heritage. This is one
instance here's um the entrance to a museum in
the Mellah of Igoulmimin and the artist and
curator with his own combination
of Jewishness and Amazighness.
As I've discussed elsewhere, during the Ashura
younger residents in Igoulmimin
masquerade as Jews [...]
in celebration of what they take to be a
particularly Jewish festivity. Here
is an image from one of the carnivals from
2004. Unlike the similar carnivals,
Abdullah [...] has documented in the High Atlas,
Islamic mythopoetic signs are broadly
bracketed from this celebration
in Goulmima, what they call [...] or the
Jewish Ashura. And Jews become objects
of dignity, respect, and munificence
rather than of derision and scapegoating
as they are in other
Amazigh carnivals throughout the High Atlas.
By putting on Jew face,
Amazigh activists, I would argue, perform
and, they might argue, perform
secular cosmopolitanism in a local [...]
to an increasingly watchful national in
international public.
In contrast the significant presence of
blacks in the oases,
the ongoing significant presence
of blacks in the oases
make them contentious rivals rather than
absent figures of the Amazigh strivings.
Some of my [...] interlocutors
derided their black neighbors for
betraying their cultural heritage,
for opting for darija over tamazyrt and for
importing urban religious pieties and practices
into the region historically famous for
sufi and pagan heteroproxy.
They decry the neglect of Ighraghman
architecture,
the local [...], these
multi-family habitations that have
fallen to ruins, which
were in fact abandoned by by the Amazigh
residents as well.
Um and those that are left are largely
occupied by unhoused
black migrants to the region. They know
us to blame them for
having abandoned that kind of local
patrimony in favor of new mosques constructions
funded in part through local donations.
In spite of their ostensible avowal of
universalist principles and their claims
of Africanity as an element of Amazigh and Moroccan identity,
some local activists continue to
articulate a racializing discourse that
links black people to animality and
sexuality, liking the [...] to [...]
and resent them for over
reproducing, fulfilling the oasis with
black bodies. My [...] cafe friend, [...]
himself of [...] descent
even projected as a dystopian future. He said, "Paul,
if you were to return to Goulmima in 100
years, you wouldn't find a single Moradi
only Haratin. It's in their nature." Unquote.
He connected this to a broadly Nietzschean self-critique
of his own [...] fellow people
as well as fellow Amazigh tribes for
having given up their will to power
and become effectively [...].
With their historical means of dominance
and social mobility blocked in their
cynical resignation to the minimal comforts of
their faded patrimony,
it is the white [...] like [...]
who now claim to feel
and served or at least entrapped in a
home they increasingly no longer
recognize. There's a side of
non-recognition in [...] that's fallen to
mostly this ruin with one of the towers of the
opening, the opening
rebuilt as an urban in urban mosque style
to which to them is a complete uncanny
um destruction of a sense of
homeliness.
In contrast, younger black residents are
more than happy to have escaped what
they seem to be
an older cast hierarchy and the petty
tyranny of the [...] big men
to whom their parents were forced to submit.
Many are suspicious of today's Amazigh
activists whom they accuse of
trafficking in an ostensibly indigenous culture
to support narrow [...] tribalism. "You
can't trust them Paul,"
when one [...] woman explained to me
"They're foxes, they're [...]. They talk
about culture and community
but they only care about themselves."
Unquote.
For others who've become adepts of new
Islamic piety movements, they find in
religious discipline
the lineaments of a post-racial morality
and a model for a future
egalitarian community in the oasis and beyond.
So in conclusion, and thinking through
these various dimensions of oasis
racializations that connect and divide Amazigh,
black, and Jewish persons, I've been
attempting to chart a historical
anthropology that underlines the
imperial project as a dialogic encounter between European
racial taxonomies,
indigenous cultural schemes, and the
pragmatics of military control.
French military officers found their
mirror image and natural interlocutors
in Amazigh pastoral tribesmen also warriors,
so it seemed if the two remain separated
by a diversity of intermediate positions
that were neither so clearly black nor white.
To a large extent the post-colonial
present builds from this colonial
encounter. Amazigh activists have
represented themselves more and more
as the autophanous noble savages of the
colonial ethnological literature at the
very moment that they're [...],
that their dominance in the region is
called into question.
Through the successive departure of
their Jewish proteges,
the emancipation of black sharecroppers,
and the destruction of the material
bases for their landed status.
The Amazigh cultural revival is thus
co-constitutive with the
parallel aspirations and outspokenness
of black Moroccans for equity inclusion call it
in kind of theoretical discourse uh meta schismogenesis
um to kind of play on Bateson's notions.
But the century-long colonial and
post-colonial dialogue cannot fully
encapsulate the
dynamics that currently shape lives in
the pre-saharan oasis.
Black and Amazigh diasporas are now far
flung with Italy, Belgium, Sweden,
Australia, Canada, and even the United
States
occupying newly prominent places on the
southeastern
Moroccan cognitive maps. Satellite and
internet media connect oasis residents
into networks of activism, fandom, and
flirtation whose boundaries are no
longer easily definable
by the contours of empire however
construed. While local marriage
strategies and exchange relations retain
a certain durability
and continue to outline group boundaries,
these do not constrain identification
and belonging
in quite the same way or with quite the
same force as they did even 20 years ago
when I first visited the oasis.
Rather we have to also account for the
work of larger discourses and stylistics
of race, ethnicity, gender, class, and
religion
emerging from the American ghetto so to
speak
or the French banlieue in reformulating,
reifine,
and unbundling local inclusions and
exclusions.
While recent conflicts within the
student unions of regional Moroccan
universities over issues
like support for the Palestinian or [...]
self-determination
have indeed tended to take on racialized
dimensions, younger folk in Goulmima and
elsewhere in South
Eastern Morocco also collaborate and
work together,
a walk across lines of racial and race
and ethnicity in projects of local,
cultural, and infrastructural development
as well as sometimes an even more
spectacular protest against state
corruption.
After all, Amazighness and blackness and
Jewishness
have never been discreet in bounded
categories no matter how essentializing
some activist discourses can be.
The nietzschean dystopian [...]
projected is but one of a number of
possible futures for the region
and there may be good reason to hope
that self-identified Amazigh
or black residents will ally their
situated tactics of strategic
essentialism
and find common ground and common cause
in projecting a Morocco and
largely a world that could be otherwise.
Thanks.
Wow, thank you a lot. I know it's a lot. I
know.
But this uh thank you so much
Paul. You really delivered,
um one of the most, I think you
summarized
a century of research
on the topic so I really want to
thank you again. Thank you very much
everybody.
Thanks