Maghreb

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Location: Wheaton, IL, United States

My hope for this blog is not just to document my adventures as I prepare to retire from the College of DuPage but to offer you a chance to stay in touch. My children are long grown and on their own; my mother is doing quite well at the age of 90. I am looking for new moorings; a task which offers challenge and opportunity. There are comment features for you; and blogspot will alert me when someone posts a comment. I am still teaching Political Science at the College of DuPage for a couple more years. Please stay in touch!

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Images of Algerian Women/Things Have to Change

Here are some last minute images of Algerian women leaders. I developed these upon my return to the U.S. The first is of Aicha Barki, president of Iqraa', an internationally recognized accredited and award winning organization, which she founded to help the illiterate. Iqraa' is the first word of the Qur'an and means "Read." It is thus a powerful form of motivation to those seeking to learn to read and write in a predominantly Muslim society. Adult education was enshrined as a right in the 1962 Constitution and reinforced by presidential decree in 1976. Literacy rates for men and women in Algeria stood at 51 and 75 percent respectively in 1999-2000.
Here is Fatima Zohra Karadja, president of the National Association for the Support of Troubled and Institutionalized Children (Association Nationale de Soutien aux Enfants en Difficulté et en Institution). The unit focuses on women, especially single mothers, by working to prepare them for their parental role. ANSEDI also facilitates training sessions for women from opposing factions to come together for sensitisation and dialogue on human rights. In cooperation with other organisations, ANSEDI is formulating a strategy to fight against social exclusion by involving at-risk populations in community activities.
Finally, a picture of Belaala Mériem, president of the Association Nationale S.O.S. Femmes en Détresse (National Association of Aid to Women in Distress).
SOS Femmes en Détresse is a non-profit making humanitarian NGO working to strengthen women’s rights in Algeria. The organisation was created by women who took active part in the Algerian struggle for national independence (Moudjahidetes), together with activists from civil society. SOS Femmes en Détresse operates on a concrete, practical level, providing services to women in difficulty. At the same time the association carries out policy advocacy - working to raise awareness on issues of violence against women and on the need to strengthen women’s rights in Algeria. SOS Femmes en Détresse functions not only in Algiers, but has developed local and regional committees that serve to support women. The local committees give advice and offer assistance to women, as well as act as a conduit to the SOS Femmes en Détresse support line and women’s shelter in Algiers. There are many forms of violence against women in Algeria, including verbal harassment, threats, repudiation, beating, sexual abuse, rape, denying of individual civil rights for women, forced marriages, etc. The political turmoil that has ravaged Algeria since 1988 has subjected women to particular forms of violence and atrocities. However, Meriem Belaala, president of the association SOS Femmes en Détresse, is optimistic and believe that women's rights in Algeria are progressively going to be strengthened.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Chez Moi (Insha'allah)


I'm scheduled to leave for the United States from Casablanca at 12:20 PM, Moroccan time. Hopefully, all will go well. Am looking forward to returning to teaching and seeing how the country recovers from the low point we've reached in the Arab world. I don't expect a president who prizes looking decisive and "leaderly" will shift course quickly. At least the subject is under discussion and debate. Kofi Annan's parting criticism at the Truman Library was appropriate. It would be great if the U.S. can again pursue the goals of democracy and promotion of human rights from a position of moral authority.

Friday, December 15, 2006

The Legend Goes On

Romantic dreams continue at Rick’s Café in Casablanca. For lunch I had a glass of Moroccan vintage red wine, lamb kebabs, and an Italian coffee in a renovated Ottoman home on the edge of the old city (medina) to the music of Andy Williams, Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra, and other American sentimental balladeers. It was like right out of a movie set. Tinted brass palm trees bordering mirrors behind the bar. Small palms below the pointed arches of the arcade surrounding the court, rising a story and open to the sky through a large octagonal skylight, covering the open space. Black marble topped tables and wicker chairs with fringed brass lanterns, a wooden mashroubiyya oriental screen, a discretely framed poster pointing the way to Timbuktu (in English and Arabic). A grand piano with small, beige Victorian fringed lamp on top for sultry Sunday afternoon jazz sessions. Such are the furnishings with formal table settings. Although the restaurant doesn’t serve caviar as in the movie, it does have an oyster bar on Saturday evenings and other excellent food.

It was great fun, although quite a contrast to the nearby medina, with its messy streets, scruffy buildings, divided between areas of habitation and small shops. Only human labor or scooters move items or people through the cobbled streets within the ramparts entered through the old city gates. An institute in Helsinki, Finland (the World Institute for Development Economics Research–WIDER), has taken up trying to measure wealth as well as income. Income is the amount of money a nation or household receives in a year. Wealth is the store of assets it has accumulated over its life so far, minus its debts. Wealth is amassed much less equitably than income. More than half of it is held by just 2% of the world’s adults. That helps account for the contrasts I see here.* I walk a bit down the corniche (coast road) from my hotel and see just beneath the bordering cement wall a discreetly hidden shanty town, covered by mats and tarps, held in place by rocks and weighted cans and plastic bottles. A dirt path indicates the entrance. Other squatters may have taken up residence in the remains of an abandoned building in a nearby area in the cliff below the wall, where lines of drying laundry can be recognized upon closer glance into the interior. Scores of young adolescent boys are playing football (soccer) on the brown sandy beachfront. No women unless some young girls approach for a stroll with their fiancées or husbands, or a couple of older women, who are sitting on the ground and have constructed makeshift beverage stands on paths to the beach, trying to make a few dirhams. One has her young daughter, finishing a packet of cookies, by her. There are two McDonalds along the corniche in the other direction (offering Chicken Mythic, one has a drive through), along with the Grand Mosque of Hassan II and a foundation constructed by the Saudis with large mosque, Islamic library, and palace for the Saudi king when he visits.

Today is Friday, and by 1 PM cars had narrowed the road by parking en masse on parts of the corniche. People were going to the mosques. Women can pray at home, but it is obligatory for men to pray in the mosque for the Friday community prayer. Children begin praying with the parent of the same gender identification when they are seven years old. Casablanca has a lot of mosques, and people were heading for the one that was the closest. Morocco is 98-99% Muslim and remains an ardently Islamic country in name and practice.

*Of course, matters can always be more complicated than they appear at first glance. Many people in poor countries have next-to-nothing; but quite a lot of people in rich countries have less than that, according to The Economist. The Nordic countries, in particular, seem to thrive without much personal wealth. The Finns, for instance, are entitled to a generous state pension and other largesse, which counts for more than a nest egg to call one’s own (The Economist, December 9, 2006, p. 79)

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Casablanca

Last Days on Djerba

Staying on an island where fishing remains an important economic activity is captivating. The island’s offshore waters are too shallow for larger boats, so there are no cruise ships, no jet skis, or loud motorboats–just the trolling of small fishing boats with their nets or amphorae. The replicated pirate ships for tourists and ferries leave from the port at Houmt Souk. From the hotel beach, I see the occasional individual fisherman casting a line or, the last few days just off the coast, the buoys of a net (filet) arranged in a ring, attached to the shore with a cord, also trimmed with floats. A man in a wet suit goes out daily to check the net. If there is enough of a catch, a boat will approach and tow it to the port at Ajim for unloading. Then, an auctioneer will hold them up with one hand, the fish hanging over each other like a braided thread, and offer them to the highest bidder in a morning fish market.

I was in the hammam for a while again today (12/11/06). Two rooms, going from hot to hotter, with steam vapor diffusing between 30 and 50°C. During the gommage (exfoliation) afterwards, a masseur used a Kehsa mitt and olive oil-based soap, mixed with sand and water from the sea to remove old cells and toxins. Invigorating and relaxing.

No fishing boats are on the horizon today (12/12/06). No fishermen, and the fishing net has disappeared. The sea is too rough. The skies are cloudy, a strong wind, and breakers rolling into shore. They’re so wonderful. I can look out on the whole shoreline with barely anyone in view and see rolls of white caps, one coming in after the other, rising and falling in contiguous half circles–like the semi-spherical ruffles on an evening gown. Djerba is a relaxing, picturesque place; but I’m ready to go home for a while.

Casablanca

Back to the traffic jams and higher prices of a large city. Casablanca is the financial, commercial capital of Morocco, so is a bustling, hustling hub. I’m reminded that the city is on the Atlantic, as the waves are stronger and higher than those in the calmer waters surrounding the island of Djerba. The forceful surf on this western edge of the Maghreb is a first indication that a different mentality may be required. The beaches are muddier with protruding rock formations, a clue that this is a city of working ports and finance, not primarily a vacation destination. However, the oldest governmental building outside the United States lies not here but in Tangier, since Morocco was the first regime to recognize the newly formed United States.

I visited the Hassan II Mosque, the third largest mosque in the world (after those in Mecca and Medina in Saudi Arabia) and the one with the tallest minaret. Women worship in two balconies (mezzanines), edged with intricate mashroubiyyah screening. The prayer hall can accommodate up to 25,000 worshippers and has a movable cedar roof. All materials are Moroccan, except the chandeliers of Murano glass and pillars of Italian carrera marble positioned on each side of the mihrab (niche designating the direction of Mecca). Maybe, it can be compared to the National Cathedral in Washington, DC, a symbol of the spiritual aspirations of a country. Guided tours of the structure are given for visitors, who range from tourists to Moroccan school children, in between the hours of prayer. The brochure states that the Hassan II Mosque is a haven of peace, where all celestial religions meet–certainly an expansive interpretation. Such a construction of Islam befits an edifice welcoming international visitors, located on the mighty Atlantic’s coast and constructed on the edge of a cosmopolitan city. It’s definitely a paradox that terrorists have emerged from this same city. A signal that religion be used to serve various ends and has a difficult time bringing divine pronunciations to bear on this-worldly dreams and issues.

The movie, Casablanca, wasn’t filmed here; but it might as well have been. The film is still loved by many; and there is a Rick’s Café, started by a former foreign service officer. Maybe that's enough to get some of you to visit.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Popularity of the Veil

The veil is popular in all of the North African countries, so the question is why? Tunisia has taken the stance of banning the veil in public places, such as government offices, schools, and universities. In Algeria, the veil became the symbol of Islamists, which the country is currently working to keep at bay. Hijab is a generic term, which refers to the Islamic scarf as opposed to a full-face covering (niqab). Wearing it has spread among Muslim women, since it became obligatory in Iran after the revolution of 1979. While in the 1960s, it was the trend among Arab women not to wear the veil, in fact to remove it, a majority of young people today support its usage. Times have definitely changed, since the daughters of the popular King Muhammad V of Morocco dressed in European fashions.

First, it could be part of a political agenda. Political movements may promote adoption of hijab and a certain role for women in the pursuit of political objectives. In this respect, governments monitor its use in an attempt to measure the rise of extremist or radical groups. Islam can be a cover in societies, which do not allow freedom of expression or meaningful political opposition. The Party of Justice and Development, the growing influence of Al Adl Wal Ihsane, the movement of Sheikh Abdessalem Yassine, and the regular dismantling of salafist cells are all features of contemporary Moroccan political life.

Second, Islamic countries may be seeking to reaffirm their religion and culture in the midst of the political turmoil of the 21st century, where Islam has often played a central role. Knowledge of Middle Eastern conflicts and issues involving Muslims is available to nearly all through the media. Many Muslims have interpreted the war on terrorism as an attack on Islam. Some Muslims became determined to uphold their customary practices, such as wearing the hijab or veil, upon seeing it banned or under fire in Western nations. Seeing their religion under what they interpreted as negative scrutiny, Muslims wanted to return to and uphold their roots.

Third, social pressure plays a role. Islam has become the dominant ideology of the Middle East and North Africa after the collapse of Arab nationalism, beginning with Nasser’s death in the early 1970s. For centuries, male judges have interpreted Islamic law and upheld a conservative, customary explanation. Presently, some argue that wearing the hijab was a sign of conservatism in the north and south of Morocco for centuries, without necessarily having religious overtones. Others would say, nonetheless, that religious judges upheld such practices in the name of religion and that religious connotations remain associated with them today. In the current political climate, even university professors appear to favor female students who wear the hijab. Wearing the veil or hijab is seen as a brand of respectability.

Fourth, critical thinking is not an attitude encouraged in Arab societies. Women especially have been taught to be obedient and take for granted the norms of hand-me-down religion and tradition without investigating the matter for themselves. Thus, many young women say that the hijab is a religious obligation, that their fathers explained to them that wearing it, upon becoming a young women, made them closer to God. They would also never remain alone with a young man and disdain swimming. According to them, a veiled woman is following God’s commands and even more attractive to the opposite sex.

Fifth, veiling may be the modernization of tradition. The hijab is a practical means for women to move around more freely in a hostile (conservative, patriarchal) environment. It’s a “visa to tranquility,” an ideal way of reducing family pressure. Generally, wearing the veil is seen as a measure of propriety. For certain women, especially governmental workers of modest means, it offers an inexpensive mode of appearing in public properly and decently dressed. It works to sanction employment outside the home, by retaining their decorum. Furthermore, young men and women can go to pastry shops and tea salons as a couple, if they are serious about each other with the prospect of marriage in view. Putting on a veil retains a cover of respectability in any such encounter.

Sixth, class differences are another source of differentiation. Lower classes usually have less education, exposure to the cultural and intellectual influences of the world outside. In poor suburbs, more women will be wearing the niqab and followed, as their shadow, by a brother or husband. Another young Moroccan, born in France but returned to the country to marry, dances for a profession and has not taken up the veil. She and her husband also tried to take up the ritual prayers for Ramadan but failed in the attempt. Age is another factor in the mix. Older women grew up wearing traditional dress and may consider themselves improperly attired without it.

Seventh, wearing the hijab has become a fashion statement and means of personal expression. In relation to this, young people will be young people. Shops specialize solely in the sale of scarves, which are available in varieties of fabrics and colors, with sequins, pearls, or other trinkets. Women wear them in a multiplicity of styles and with all kinds of outfits. Two women from a working class neighborhood wear long black winter coats. However, one adorns herself with severely round glasses, no makeup whatsoever, and only a little sunblock. The other wears a scarf sprinkled with sequins. She has finely shaped eyebrows, delicate eye makeup, and manicured fingernails. For her, the hijab doesn’t mean she can’t be chic. Another group of young women may dress in jellabahs and dark headscarves as in uniform. Still others will wear headscarves adeptly matched with other attire, such as a red leather jacket and brown camel skirt. Then, there are the flashy veilers with transparent head coverings and low, slim sexy jeans. In the hip music areas of Casablanca, adolescents may wear military style garb with khaki veils. Marketers of veils have all sorts of niches to fill or cater to. Even prostitutes find the veil useful as a shield from the critical gaze of neighbors and the oversight of police officers.

Rule of the Social Sciences: No one factor explains everything. As can be seen, the issue of the hijab in Morocco and North African countries is complex, multifaceted, and paradoxical. It has become commonplace, so no one is astonished by its usage. Yet, it remains of symbolic importance. Companies, such as Royal Air Maroc, wishing to project a modern image discourage or forbid its wearing. The wife of King Muhammad VI, who also bears the title, Commander of the Faithful, has not adopted the headscarf. However, the women Islamic preachers recently promoted by the Minister of Islamic Affairs all wear it. On the one hand, supporters state that it honors femininity and allows women freedom of movement in security, even as it reflects the confusion, uncertainty, and disaffection of Morocco’s youth. Critics see the hijab as perpetuating discrimination between the sexes and losing out on modernity. Secularism is inconceivable in these societies at the moment; and the altercation between mosque, state, and custom goes on.
(Maréchaud, Cerise. A voile et à valeurs. Jeune Afrique, No. 2395. Du 3 au 9 décembre 2006, pp. 34-36.)

Huge shallow puddles remain in fields and by the side of roads even thought it’s been over a week since it’s rained. Locals say it’s due to the clay in the soil.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Reweaving Traditional Fibers

Women Carpet Weavers

Carpet weaving is a major source of income for women in Djerba. I visited the Minisouq in the center of Houmt Souk to see their work firsthand. The Minisouk is a cooperative, selling all sorts of crafts (pottery, jewelry, leather bags, and jellabahs) in a converted caravanserai. A caravanserai was a combination inn and warehouse used by traveling merchants as a stopover and place to store their goods. Men slept on the upper level, animals below. Nowadays, a large room on the upper level is filled with looms, where about eight women sit weaving carpets. They work from 8 AM to 12 PM and from 4-6 PM. They are paid 300 Tunisian Dinars ($237.78) per month plus transportation. They also receive a commission, when the cooperative settles its accounts at the end of each year. In addition to these women, some work at home due to the convenience and send their completed carpets to the cooperative for sale. Women do not run the cooperative; but it provides them a place to work and make some money.

Carpet weaving, at present, bridges the traditional and modern worlds. Customarily, rugs and kilims (rugs with richly colored geometric patterns, woven like tapestry, with no pile) were made for family use from wool, goat, or camel hair, using dyes extracted from indigenous plants and insects. These early carpets were adapted to nomadic life. In sedentary communities, rugs were used as floor coverings in homes and sacred places. Designs varied according to the weaver and region. Producing these carpets for sale–largely to tourists– is an innovation, a departure from the conventional practice. Women are leaving the home or spending a large part of their day at a trade at which they alone are skilled and which matches their accepted image. They can, thus, engage in a cash-driven economy and retain the cover of respectability.

For a couple of days, the sea was placid, a sheet of shimmering ripples with little variation. Today, some whitecaps are back, foamy swells following each other to the shore. I don’t need a CD with the sound of waves; their resonance is available whenever I go out the door or open the window.

Monday, December 11, 2006

Olive Oil Cooperative

Olive trees are spread out all over the island. It’s one of the images that will stay with me forever, the rows and rows of olive trees of varying ages wherever I went throughout the countryside on Djerba. Scores appear in groves; but every family seems to have some in their yard. Olives are a mainstay of the diet, offered even at breakfast; and Djerbian families consume a lot of olive oil each year. They use it in cooking or for dipping bread.

I wanted to see if women were involved in work in the cooperatives; but they are not. The Djerbian population is descended from early Berbers and remains conservative. Women remain assigned to traditional female tasks associated with the home and family: sewing, cooking, and tending of family lands. They, and the whole family, pick olives when they are ripe. Nonetheless, it is men who transport the harvested crop to the factories in sacks and men who run the plant. A family gets a certain amount of money in payment for every so many liters of olive oil produced from its contribution. Olives are washed, sorted, crushed, and pressed. At the end, translucent light green oil pours out of the vat’s spigot. Local families can buy oil from the cooperative; what is left over gets sent to larger factories in Tunis, where it is sold to the larger Tunisian market or exported.

What’s advantageous about olive oil from Djerba is that is prepared from handpicked olives, ripened in the sun on the trees, and subsequently transported to a local cooperative, where it is pressed and put into containers on site. It has the variety and rich taste of local production, with olives coming from numerous growers. La Medina is the brand name for the oil produced at the plant I visited near El May. It’s the time of year for the olive harvest. Women can be seen reaching into the trees; and men position on ladders straining for the yield in the upper branches. A common sight on a warm day, of which there are many on Djerba, groups, usually of women and children with an occasional man, often sit together on the ground taking a break or taking time for tea. Typical of the season, the strong distinct scent of pressed olives will suddenly assail the nostrils while driving, a signal that I am on a road near a busy olive oil works.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Ile des Oiseaux (Island of Birds)

An imitation pirate vessel leaves the port at Houmt Souk for a nearby island. Aboard, I watch the bow turn toward the channel, looking out at the cormorants and gulls perched on the buoys marking the conduit. Given the current appeal of the port area, which is ringed by outsized, sienna-toned rocks, stacks of amphorae (earthen pots used for fishing), and piles of fishing nets, I would never guess that Dragon, the pirate, had piled the skulls of 6,000 of his victims in a pyramidal tour near the present fort as a warning to any future aggressors. The Ghazi Mustapha Fort is positioned on the town’s shoreline next to the port.

Flamingos are visible only in October through April; the weather is too hot in the summer. Of the birds in Djerba’s waters, gulls, herons, pelicans, cranes, and cormorants are still more observable than flamingos in early December. However, there are some. Off the island, I observed only two. They didn’t appear to mind people approaching, simply ambling farther offshore on their tall, thin legs. Long neck and legs, downward-curving bill, pinkish-white feathers with black wing quills, I find it extraordinary they can wade and feed with such symmetry and poise.

Bird Island is small and desolate, covered with dunes, scrub, and washed up algae; a resolute wind blows persistently across the landscape. Sand bars, shallow waters, and seaweed marsh surround the islet. A rising sea level is encroaching on the atoll’s terrain year by year. A person stranded on this isolated mass of land would have nothing but him/herself for distraction. Small seashells and rocks, mounds of sand shifting with the winds, masses of desiccated seaweed left behind by the receding tide, this is all that exists. Except nowadays, boatloads of tourists show up in pirate ships with blaring music, ready to take lunch in the blanched-wood huts, and listen to comic skits for an afternoon’s entertainment. Pictures taken with Captain Crochet (Captain Hook) also become available for purchase.

The lunch was delicious. Oysters (huitres) picked straight from the sea, like secretive presents opened before their time, then eaten from the half shell with lemon juice squeezed from a chunk. Brik (deep fried cheese and spinach enveloped in light, ultra thin pastry), small fishes cooked on a grill, piquant couscous with steamed tomatoes and zucchini on top, Tunisian salad (chopped cucumbers, tomatoes, and onion), chunks of French bread, and tangerines for dessert. After a walk to see the flamingos, tea was served.

It wasn’t what I expected. Still, apart from the unabashed tourist approach of the voyage, I did enjoy the experience, or at least parts of it. The event was a trip in the open air, a “sort of” journey into nature. I saw some birds and identified them as best I could. I thought there might be more. I learned about the physical features around Djerba and had a view of Houmt Souk from offshore I definitely saw some different terrain. I couldn’t feel like a Robinson Crusoe, since I think he had tropical vegetation on his island and eventually one person, Friday. Lots of people were here looking for a chance to escape, and not into solitude.

Finally, it was time to return to Houmt Souk. A couple of amphorae attached to fish net were retrieved on the return trip. No catch was made; they were empty. Seeing the fort emerge, as the town’s dominant feature on the coastline, was intriguing. Fortunately, memories of Dragon’s tower are precisely that, memories. Only a commemorative obelisk, dating from 1848, exists at present. Derba is often presented as “Derba la douce (sweet or mild).” Considerations of that are what capture my thoughts at the moment.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Enchantment Continues


Still on Djerba

Djerba is fringed with sandy beaches and covers an area of 308 square miles. Homer described it in his epic novel The Odyssey as “The Island of the Blissfully Happy.” Today, it is one of the Mediterranean’s most popular holiday destinations. Traditional Tunisian architecture, an azure coast, never-ending blue skies, (December and January do get some rain and clouds), fresh fish complementing local cuisine, all conspire to make Djerba a stunning place to visit. Many of the hotels have the characteristic Arabic/Turkish bath (hammam) as well as other spa features.

What Lies Beneath the Blue Skies?

Does the outward appearance of idyllic loveliness, charm, and tourist hospitality lead to a true understanding of Djerba or distract from it? It’s hard to penetrate below the surface here. It goes beyond the language barrier, although many speak only the Tunisian Arabic dialect or rudimentary French. It’s more likely to be a lack of trust in the public sphere. Political scientists have conducted surveys, measuring the amount of trust citizens have in their nation’s politicians and institutions. The Northern European and North American cultures surpass Latin countries in their levels of societal and political trust. Historically, Tunisia has seen waves of conquerors, who have come and gone–often wreaking vengeance along the way.

Religion. With the Tunisian government assuming a direct role in the supervision of religious activities, citizens are wary of departing from the official line in matters of religion. The Jewish community, while tiny, is the second largest religious community. Ibadis are thought to live on the isle of Djerba; and Sufism has deep roots in the country. Sufism’s tradition of mysticism infuses the practice of Islam throughout the country; and most homes have a shrine in honor of a marabout. No official data on Sufism is available. Knowledge about Ibadis is arduous to uncover. The few individuals I’ve asked here state that Ibadis presently practice alongside Sunni Hanafis and Malekis and that their children aren’t observant of the faith. Later, I learned that there are indeed Ibadis; but is true that some children are aligning themselves with one of the other Islamic judicial schools.

Upon independence, the Tunisian government assumed control of all Islamic institutions. The government administers and subsidizes mosques and pays the salaries of prayer leaders. The president selects the Grand Mufti of the Republic. The state also subsidizes the Jewish community. It allows the Jewish community freedom of worship and pays the salary of the Grand Rabbi, in addition to subsidizing restoration and maintenance costs for synagogues. Other minorities include Christians, Bahais, and others.

The Constitution provides for the free exercise of religions that do not upset the public order. The government, however, does not permit the establishment of political parties based on religion, forbids proselytizing, and restricts the wearing of hijab. As in most predominantly Muslim countries, the Constitution declares that Islam is the official state religion and specifies that the President must be a Muslim.

While democratic freedoms are publicly touted, the government does not uphold them in practice. Homogenization, conformity, and loyalty (solidarity) to the state come before human rights and individual expression. Economic growth and a rising standard of living are actively promoted and have wide support among the public.

The social contract thus appears to consist of citizen support for the government as the economy continues to grow under its direction. In exchange, the population remains silent regarding the state’s record of human rights, freedom of the press, and individual expression. An unanswered question is what type of citizenship education children receive in the public schools? While there is officially no illiteracy, levels of education vary dramatically. At first glance, finding one’s place in society and learning the material seems to outweigh critical thinking of developing a sense of curiosity about the world. Mandatory Islamic religious education in public schools also means that religion remains a dominant part of students’ worldview. The religious curriculum for secondary school students includes the history of Judaism and Christianity.

Women’s Place

The title of a 2000 film, La Saison des hommes (The Season of Men or The Homecoming), by Tunisian director Moufida Tlatli refers to the preparation for the season of men, the month, during which Djerbian husbands who have been working in Tunis return to the island. The past and the present, modernity and tradition co-exist in a post-colonial world, where, regardless of their equality before the law, domestic authority and traditional female roles limit women’s lives. In a traditional household in a changing modern-day world, options are perceived. As in The Silences of the Palace, Tlatli illustrates the spaces women create for themselves.

I have ordered the film and look forward to viewing it for its scenery of Djerba and insights into life on the island.

Life Goes On. An old man with kerchief and baggy pants is casting lines from the beach this morning. He has a chair and a woven basket for the fish, one pole, and lines wrapped around a cardboard pad. The lines are gradually unwound; the bait tossed into the water’s edge, and the tide carries it out to deeper waters. The fisherman’s silhouette against the island’s sea and sky on a beach rounded with hotels mimicking typical Tunisian architecture juxtaposes Djerba’s traditional and contemporary economies. The weather is too cool yet for sunbathing but welcoming. The length of Djerba’s beach can be enjoyed in solitude, the rings of swelling waves advancing toward the shore.

At the Swiss run hotel, advent pillars in straw wreathes appeared yesterday–the sign of a European tradition in a 98% Muslim country. The first candle was lit yesterday (12/3).