Post by Bozur on Feb 26, 2005 19:23:43 GMT -5
The view from Morocco
An American writer abroad looks at Iraq through the lens of the Middle East and sees a kaleidoscope of hope and failure, promise and despair.
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By Mark MacNamara
Jan. 29, 2005 | MOROCCO -- The view of Iraq on election eve suggests a dervish nation whirling toward civil war. "This is the calm before the storm" is a refrain heard by commentators in the Iraqi press. "Doomed" is a word you also hear. But even with optimism in such short supply, you can still look at the Iraqi people as though they've just come out of a prison psycho ward after serving 30 years on false charges. And you think: give them time to adjust, give them a moment to trust somebody, and they just might make it.
We live in a small university town in the Middle Atlas Mountains of Morocco. My wife teaches high school English. I teach a college journalism course. My 10-year-old son is in school. For weeks, I've been watching and reading news of Sunday's elections in the local Iraqi press. I've been particularly interested to see Iraq without the traditional American news filters.
The view of the elections from Morocco is like the view across a room through someone else's bifocals. You have only the vaguest sense of Iraq. The truth is, the elections have never been a big story here. That may be difficult to understand when you live in the United States, the world's news hopper. But it may be American-centric to think otherwise.
Moroccans may show little interest in Iraq because they have a low opinion of America, but it's more, I think, because what happens there doesn't affect them politically or, more importantly, emotionally. What is of far greater interest is anything involving Israel. The obsession with the Israel-Palestine conflict is mind-boggling.
You could argue that Israel serves as an excuse, a distraction from failure in Morocco. That may be partly true. Certainly, the endless stories of incursion become one more source of despair that promotes a sense of being powerless. Even young kids -- and these are from well-to-do, educated families -- give strong opinions on Gaza and the West Bank. Misguided opinions, you could say, but ones that are strong and clear.
Not incidentally, some high school kids see Osama bin Laden as a hero because he challenged the United States. Moreover, the notion that someone called up 4,000 Jews working in the World Trade Center and told them not to come to work on 9/11 is an accepted story. "Where did you hear that story?" you ask. "I don't know." "I heard it on TV." "My parents told me." "Everybody knows that." It's like asking whether the sun is out.
Ariel Sharon is forever Beezlebub, and by extension, so is Bush. But this has nothing to do with Bush and Iraq. That's a separate matter, and many Moroccans seem undecided about Iraq. One academic, a Sunni, the predominant faith in Morocco, told me, "I was against the invasion, but I just pray Bush doesn't pull out now." He nearly wept at the thought. But why? "The Sunnis would be slaughtered. It would be the end." I was surprised, because many Moroccans will tell you they are Muslims first; sect is not important to them.
In the last week, the big stories in Le Matin, the French-language Moroccan daily, include the repatriation of two gravely ill soldiers kept for almost 20 years in Algeria. The Sahara is always a pressing story in Morocco. That's another injustice so close to the heart, Moroccans can barely discuss it. And then there was a story about developing tourist possibilities in Ouarzazate province. That comes higher than a news service story about the most recent violence in Iraq.
One reason the Iraq elections may be so lightly regarded is that Morocco has its own problems. I stumbled on a rally in Rabat in late December. The peaceful rally was held by 1,500 or so unemployed academics who believe the government has not done enough to provide new jobs. With the appearance of baton-wielding soldiers came the realization that the government does not quite trust the people, even the educated.
"Jobs" is a rallying cry from the phosphate mines in Khouribga to the top universities. Invariably, the best students go to Europe or America to find jobs. In effect, the low skilled and the most skilled are leaving. And you wonder, who is left to build and staff a democracy?
An American writer abroad looks at Iraq through the lens of the Middle East and sees a kaleidoscope of hope and failure, promise and despair.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
By Mark MacNamara
Jan. 29, 2005 | MOROCCO -- The view of Iraq on election eve suggests a dervish nation whirling toward civil war. "This is the calm before the storm" is a refrain heard by commentators in the Iraqi press. "Doomed" is a word you also hear. But even with optimism in such short supply, you can still look at the Iraqi people as though they've just come out of a prison psycho ward after serving 30 years on false charges. And you think: give them time to adjust, give them a moment to trust somebody, and they just might make it.
We live in a small university town in the Middle Atlas Mountains of Morocco. My wife teaches high school English. I teach a college journalism course. My 10-year-old son is in school. For weeks, I've been watching and reading news of Sunday's elections in the local Iraqi press. I've been particularly interested to see Iraq without the traditional American news filters.
The view of the elections from Morocco is like the view across a room through someone else's bifocals. You have only the vaguest sense of Iraq. The truth is, the elections have never been a big story here. That may be difficult to understand when you live in the United States, the world's news hopper. But it may be American-centric to think otherwise.
Moroccans may show little interest in Iraq because they have a low opinion of America, but it's more, I think, because what happens there doesn't affect them politically or, more importantly, emotionally. What is of far greater interest is anything involving Israel. The obsession with the Israel-Palestine conflict is mind-boggling.
You could argue that Israel serves as an excuse, a distraction from failure in Morocco. That may be partly true. Certainly, the endless stories of incursion become one more source of despair that promotes a sense of being powerless. Even young kids -- and these are from well-to-do, educated families -- give strong opinions on Gaza and the West Bank. Misguided opinions, you could say, but ones that are strong and clear.
Not incidentally, some high school kids see Osama bin Laden as a hero because he challenged the United States. Moreover, the notion that someone called up 4,000 Jews working in the World Trade Center and told them not to come to work on 9/11 is an accepted story. "Where did you hear that story?" you ask. "I don't know." "I heard it on TV." "My parents told me." "Everybody knows that." It's like asking whether the sun is out.
Ariel Sharon is forever Beezlebub, and by extension, so is Bush. But this has nothing to do with Bush and Iraq. That's a separate matter, and many Moroccans seem undecided about Iraq. One academic, a Sunni, the predominant faith in Morocco, told me, "I was against the invasion, but I just pray Bush doesn't pull out now." He nearly wept at the thought. But why? "The Sunnis would be slaughtered. It would be the end." I was surprised, because many Moroccans will tell you they are Muslims first; sect is not important to them.
In the last week, the big stories in Le Matin, the French-language Moroccan daily, include the repatriation of two gravely ill soldiers kept for almost 20 years in Algeria. The Sahara is always a pressing story in Morocco. That's another injustice so close to the heart, Moroccans can barely discuss it. And then there was a story about developing tourist possibilities in Ouarzazate province. That comes higher than a news service story about the most recent violence in Iraq.
One reason the Iraq elections may be so lightly regarded is that Morocco has its own problems. I stumbled on a rally in Rabat in late December. The peaceful rally was held by 1,500 or so unemployed academics who believe the government has not done enough to provide new jobs. With the appearance of baton-wielding soldiers came the realization that the government does not quite trust the people, even the educated.
"Jobs" is a rallying cry from the phosphate mines in Khouribga to the top universities. Invariably, the best students go to Europe or America to find jobs. In effect, the low skilled and the most skilled are leaving. And you wonder, who is left to build and staff a democracy?