The Casbah Connection
Why Morocco is producing some of the world's most feared terrorists
Resistance. Since the Casablanca bombings, the government's tough stance has emboldened some Moroccans to confront overly assertive Islamists. In Fez, a woman now styles her hair flamboyantly just to taunt conservative men in the medina. Says her friend, who describes herself as devout: "It's good they're suppressing these fundamentalists. They're trying to take away our religion." Another woman in Fez quit a literacy class run by Islamists to take one offered by the government. After the bombings, explained the woman's daughter, Majida Satori, 26, "that school had a bad reputation. They teach hate and intolerance."
As police continue to search for militants, the king has been squeezing broader groups of Islamists--at the ballot box, in their homes, and at the mosques. "He has managed to pin down the Islamists," says Moha Ennaji, a university professor in Fez. "We don't feel stifled by the threat now. After [the bombings], we were scared." After Morocco conducted what were deemed as free and fair parliamentary elections in 2002, the Party of Justice and Democracy was told by the Interior Ministry to tone down inflammatory rhetoric and to limit its participation in local races in 2003. Interior officials deny that. The talks, party leaders say, were not unfriendly, but the message was firm. "We know that behind this courtesy," says Mohamed Yatim, a party lawmaker, "is the baton."
Perhaps the greatest weapon the government has in curbing the Islamists is the king, Mohammed VI. In successfully pushing for a law bolstering women's rights, for instance, he trumped Islamist opposition by exactingly justifying each and every change with the Koran or the teachings of the prophet Muhammad. The new code grants women near equality in divorce and child custody. Women under age 18 are generally barred from marrying, and polygamy is now nearly impossible. The king's break from the repressive rule of his father, King Hassan II, was formalized with the creation of a reconciliation commission, which broadcast cathartic testimony from people whose family members had "disappeared" under the old regime. It is the first such public reckoning in the Arab world, but some fear the fallout from the current war on terrorism. Many of those jailed are innocent, say human rights activists, and allegations of torture--though officially denied--have been given credence by Human Rights Watch and the U.S. government. Mohamed Darif, a specialist on Islamist movements at Hassan II University, predicts a backlash, saying many detainees "will come out very radicalized and dangerous."
The king has also tapped his religious authority to rein in Morocco's preachers. Dozens of informal "garage mosques," where extremists met, have been closed. The king revamped the "Ulema Councils" of religious authorities to clamp down on what is taught--and reverse some of the radical Wahhabist inroads made over the years. "One of our priorities," explains Andre Azoulay, a royal adviser, "is to fill the ideological gap, to reoccupy the ground taken by the fundamentalists."
That sort of thinking offers hope. Defeating terrorism will demand much more than scouring the dark corners of Moroccan society for militants. Morocco's discontents run too deep, and, for now, the ticking goes on. Despite some progress in the slums, concedes Azoulay, "we are running against the clock." The question is whether the Moroccans have enough time to stop the next wave of angry young men.
advertisement
