Persecution and Freedom: My Position On The Expulsions

These past few months, I've posted a great deal on the waves of expulsions of foreign Christians from Morocco. So I thought I had articulated my own view pretty well. But a conversation I had while back in the United States made me realize that perhaps I hadn't.

Morocco is it's own country and can make it's own laws. We shouldn't expect them to be a Western country because they're not. And Americans who come here should be prepared to face the consequences for breaking those laws. If they proselytize, then they must be prepared to be fined, imprisoned, or expelled.

What's more, I think the evangelical Christian missionaries who were here were aware of that tradeoff. They believed that any eternal award would trump whatever punishment in this life they might receive. So they thought it was worth it, and they willingly paid the price.

In my coverage here, I commented very little on those run-of-the-mill evangelical missionaries. I focused instead on the Village of Hope, on the expelled Arab Catholic priest, and on anti-Christian vandalism.

The Village of Hope had existed openly and legally for over a decade without any problems. Closing them down and closing them down so suddenly had a humanitarian cost. Children who had been with loving foster parents for a decade were stripped from their erstwhile parents forever without even a semblance of due process.

The Catholic priest was also taken, held, and expelled under suspicious circumstances despite Catholics' longstanding and explicit foreswearing of proselytization. The Vatican, unlike any evangelical church, is technically also its own state, and so it has to deal with diplomatic damage if its representatives get in trouble with another state. As a result, they must tread very carefully, knowing that missteps can result in Christians being persecuted or killed in the Muslim world. The fact that the only Catholic priest expelled was of Egyptian descent was also suspect because his existence challenges a commonly shared view of Arab as Muslim. In both cases, lies and misleading statements were given by Moroccan authorities, and the accused had no opportunity to challenge the rulings. A clear explanation and justification of the actions was NEVER given. More bothersome to me, there was little to no investigative coverage of the events by the Moroccan or foreign press, with certain notable exceptions. Injustices will happen; the public should at least have a chance to know about them.

So I focused on these issues because I found them most unfair and underreported GIVEN current Moroccan law and practice.

Morocco is free to determine its own laws and enforce them as it sees fit. But I think we can demand a consistent, honest enforcement of those laws. And that's what I was trying to do.


That being said, I think there is more we can say about traditionally Muslim countries entering a globalized modernity.

On a philosophical note, humans fare very poorly when given freedom. We tend to make poor choices unless we have a strong moral core (for a literary exploration of this topic, see Jonathan Franzen's new novel "Freedom" or just read this week's Time's article on Franzen). As a result, many Moroccans have no problem with censorship and restricted rights that would bother Westerners. They say, "Does more freedom make us better people or a better society?" I'm not sure the answer is clear-cut.

I'm a Westerner, but I'm also a Christian. So I understand what they're getting at. I appreciate our freedoms, but at the same time, I realize that we can't agree on any real set of shared values anymore. That polarizes our political debates and forces us to default to freedom as our utmost value--we don't agree but we're free to disagree and do what we want. In more traditional cultures, there was a more agreed upon view of what human flourishing was and a view of what the state's role was in punishing divergence from that norm. In Morocco, following Islam is part of that norm and divergence from it is not protected. I may not agree with Islam, but I understand the principle. And I also understand the consequences. Despite all its changes, Morocco is still a more homogeneous society than pretty much any Western country. There is a common set of beliefs, allusions, references and norms that everyone knows and follows (or that everyone knows they should follow). And there's value in that sort of homogenization, I think: a shared identity, a sense of belonging, a common moral core.

At the same time, Moroccans are now living in a post-colonial, globalized, technologically-connected world. These days, viewpoints, beliefs, and practices pass very fluidly from culture to culture. And it's impossible to stop. So a Moroccan kid can listen to Jay-Z, dress hip-hop, and use whatever mix of English, French, Darija, and Berber he or she wants. A Moroccan can chose his hairstyle (unlike, say, in Iran) and his marriage partner (unlike in many traditional areas). There is a lot of freedom, but societal unity in Morocco is in the process of breaking down. The upper classes live out European (particularly French) norms. Preferences in movies, music, style, and dating correspond to a consumerist ethic that sees little value in tradition. The days of universal recognition of Um Khalthun, mandatory jelabas, and Islamic courting are over. And so, partially in reaction, many in the lower and middle classes now subscribe to a more stringent, imported brand of Islam that their great-grandparents would not have recognized.

In essence there are two movements: one towards a Western view of freedom as the consummate value and another in resistance of that freedom and a movement towards a supposedly more purified form of Islam that assiduously avoids the pitfalls as well as the benefits of modernity.

So, as someone who sees benefit in societal unity and yet who also views freedom as a least bad sort of option given already existing diversity, I have mixed personal feelings on what would be best for Morocco. I think that Islam (along with other religious systems) serves as a bulwark against the alienating individualism and moral relativism of free Western societies. It provides transcendentally-grounded, ritually-supported moral guidelines on things such as finance and poverty that we in the individualistic, capitalist West would do well to listen to.

On the other hand, I find frustrating the hypocrisy of openly allowing illegal, un-Islamic activities while still repressing a religious minority that would be a natural ally in creating a society that more closely followed those Islamic principles. That's the American in me speaking: the different Christian denominations in early America shared common values while disagreeing on religious doctrine, paving the way for a secular republic that still had a certain sense of societal unity grounded in a European mix of Christianity and Enlightenment rationalism. I tend to think it's a good model, and I don't see why religious liberty and freedom of conscience can't be added to the already expansive list of freedoms Moroccans enjoy.

Of course, that's my personal opinion. I'm not going to argue it with the Moroccan government or with most Moroccans for that matter. I will, however, raise a fuss when they don't consistently and honestly enforce their own laws.

The Fading of European Colonists

We're living in the dying days of European colonialism.

Yes, the mass majority of European colonialism ended in the decades after World War II, and yes most developing countries have been independent for some time now, but those Europeans who were born in their countries' colonies are still around, living in independent countries and now fast approaching death.

This NYTimes article on Anglo-Indians (those of English descent born in India) reminded me of Morocco. The French generation born in or relocated to Morocco before its 1956 independence range from 64 on up (the oldest French man in Morocco I know is 87), and they're still around if you know where to look. They have little say in government or politics anymore. But some still own important businesses or at least they used to.

They were born in a different world with different struggles and different ideals and different ethics. And they're still around.

But not for much longer.

The Pizza Delivery Man, Part 1

When I do a unit on ethnic foods in my classroom, I reel off a list of restaurants that most medium-sized American cities have: Chinese, Thai, Italian, Mexican, Indian, etc. Most students are unfamiliar with them. So I ask: "What are some ethnic foods available here in Meknes?" The students scratch their heads for a while. They're often unsure. Eventually, one of the students ventures an answer, "Pizza Hut and McDonald's".

Then it is my turn for an uncertain pause. Yes, I think. Both are foreign. Yes, both are restaurants in Meknes. The student is correct.

And yet there is something different between the immigrant-run ethnic restaurants that populate America and transnational corporate franchises entering a new market. But my English class is not the place to explain the difference.

There is a Pizza Hut in Meknes, and I have never been to it. Since my Book-it days, I have been much more likely to eat American pizza from Papa John's if I'm going to eat from an American pizza chain at all.

Last week, when I arrived back at my parents' house, was no exception. There was little in the fridge, and I was tired after a long flight. So I called up Papa John's and ordered one of their specials. Forty minutes later my stomach was getting a little concerned it might not reunite with its favorite American ethnic food. So I called the store back up and asked what was going on. I was told to call back in five or ten minutes if the pizza still wasn't there. Sure enough, before I could pass the news on to my impatiently eager gut, the doorbell rang.

I scampered down the stairs and opened the door to find a dark-complexioned man in his 30's holding my beloved pizza pie. As I reached for the pizza and gave him the cash, he spoke to me. And he spoke to me in an eerily familiar accent, as though I had heard his voice before. The accent itself is no surprise in Northern Virginia, where my parents live. Walking through WalMart is a bit like visiting a poor man's UN with more children.

In my dazed and giddy state, I felt little of my typical inhibitions with strangers. So I spoke to him directly in Arabic, "Are you Arab?"

Taking a step back, he replied in English, "Uh yes."

Pressing on in the Moroccan dialect, I inquired, "Where are you from?"

"I think you know," came the reply again in English. He took another step back towards his car. Foliage hid the large neighboring suburban homes from view.

I continued, "So where are you from?"
"Taza."
"I live in Meknes normally."
"Oh, that's only a few hours away."

Besides a word here or there, he still insisted on speaking English. His shock gave way to a form of amazement. We continued to exchange pleasantries.

A bit idiotically, I asked, "What are you doing right now? Would you like to come inside and share my pizza with me?"
"No. I have to work," came the reply.

Unsure what else to do, I asked him to wait a moment, dashed inside, set the pizza on the kitchen counter, and bounded up the stairs to get a piece of paper to write my number on.

Coming outside I presented him the paper and asked, "Are there any good Moroccan cafes around here?"
"There are some, but more towards DC."
"Well, call me and we can meet to drink a coffee, if God wills."
"If God wills."
"Bye."
"Bye."

Still looking a slight bit startled, he got back into his car and drove away.

Scenes From Morocco: Balcony View of Hassan II

The Hassan II Mosque as seen from a Casablanca balcony.

American Study Abroad Ctd

The New York Times piece I commented on yesterday provides more fodder for the "other great ways not to understand a culture" file. Jilian York analyzes the journalist's framing of the story:

The problem, then, is not Americans, but the Times itself. Its journalists are not the average American; they can afford to, or are sent to, places like Cairo from where they report on stories like this. They experience it firsthand, and yet every time, come back in shock at how “strange” and “different” the Arab world is.

One need also ask: If this is how the Times reports on a subject like studying abroad, how can we possibly expect them to be relevant in their news coverage of the Middle East? How can we expect these journalists, who can’t seem to move beyond how “exotic” the Middle East is, to be fair and balanced in their reporting of it?

In my opinion, we can’t. The New York Times has a massive budget (at least in comparison to other media outlets) and has reporters in numerous places across the region. It can, and does, cover stories that other outlets can’t or don’t. And it has a few good journalists who seem to “get” the region.

At the same time, its MidEast bureau shows consistent bias toward Israel and the United States’ occupation of Iraq.

Sassa, one of Jilian's commenters, sees careerism at work:

But the students – I hope most of them *don’t* end up as journalists. From the handful I’ve come across in recent years, many of them seem to be war tourists travelling to the exotic Arab World to confirm their stereotypes, who return to the EU/US to write about the region as ‘experts’.

It all seemed to change in 2003. Before the Iraq war, many of the students I talked to were genuinely interested in immersing themselves and learning about Syrian/Jordanian/Lebanese culture. They had passion for the region, they didn’t just see a career opportunity.

American Study Abroad and Real Cultural Engagement

The New York Times had an interesting article yesterday on American students doing Arabic programs abroad.

Since 9/11 American students have chosen to study Arabic more and more, and so their time abroad is increasingly in Muslim countries. This is an excellent phenomenon, because the Middle East, and the Arab world in general, is profoundly misunderstood in the United States. Getting to know real people who are different allows Arabs and Muslims to be humanized.

Yet none of them said they had confronted anti-American sentiment, other than occasional disagreements over foreign policy. “I found that whether I was in Cairo, Aswan, Amman or Damascus, people with whom I interacted wanted to talk about common interests — family, sports, music and economics — rather than our struggles and disagreements,” said Richard Frohlichstein, 21, a senior at Georgetown University who spent last autumn at American University in Cairo.

They realize Arabs are people too. This is great! And yet, I can't help but think there is something wrong here, though. None of them confronted anti-American sentiment. Really? None of them?!

Perhaps that merely reflects the extent of Arab hospitality as they distinguish between the people of a country and the government of a country. Perhaps...

I can't speak for the American University in Cairo, but I do know what happens at the University of Meknes in Morocco. Dozens of American students are bundled through a few month program together. Some live with Moroccan families, but most live in apartments and associate pretty exclusively among themselves. Almost none of them speak Arabic or French well. So their access to Moroccans is limited pretty exclusively to university professors, students who speak English well, families who have housed dozens of Americans before, and tour operators. In short, people who all have extensive experience with Americans. Those Moroccans have already undergone the difficult process of cultural engagement with the West or they have a profit motive in minimizing disagreement and disaccord.

But that also means that those students do not have to go through that process of cultural engagement themselves.

Instead, the foreign exchange students at the University of Meknes receive only a superficial encounter with Moroccan culture. Certainly, it's better than nothing, but one can't help but wonder if they are merely taking back a different, more positive stereotype back to the United States.

Americans who stay for longer, learn Darija better, and venture out of American cliques quickly discover that not everyone is singing Kumbaya and prancing around the meadow holding hands. There are fundamental disagreements over religion and politics, and if you encounter a Moroccan a few levels removed from the tourism or study abroad economy (and perhaps a social class lower), he is likely to tell you what he thinks about your country and your faith in no uncertain terms: You have a chance to embrace Islam before you burn in hellfire. American support of Israel is downright shameful. The American military is criminal. Jews are evil, always act en masse, and give money to create and cover up Arab suffering.

Most Moroccans continue to be hospitable in such conversations. They tell you about Islam because they want to help you after all. They let you know about Jewish-financed media conspiracy hiding the truth from Americans so that you will finally know the truth. But such conversations nevertheless make Americans uncomfortable. And perhaps uncomfortable for good reason. It is a discomfort born out of the realization that there is drastic difference--a difference the students interviewed in the New York Times article seem to have escaped.

True understanding between cultures involves a recognition of the underlying humanity that unites us as well as an honest recognition of differences. As long as US study abroad programs get only the first of the two right, we will still continue to misunderstand the Muslim world.

Scenes From Morocco: A Tourist Shop

Tourists visit a shop in Essaouira, Morocco.