A man walks toward the last standing ears of wheat. Since morning he has worn the title of King — but in the wheat fields of central Morocco, to be King is already to be marked for death. Around him, his harvesters hold their breath: in a moment, they will seize him.

It is the early twentieth century, in the countryside of central Morocco and the Sous valley. The ethnographer Émile Laoust travels from tribe to tribe, watching the end of the wheat harvest — and records a gesture that Islam, its surface covering, cannot fully explain. Among the Mtougga of Bouâboud, the Aït Yousi, and in the Rif, the same principle recurs. Farmers do not cut the wheat. They kill the field.

Laoust records these practices before they fade. Some have since vanished; others may have survived in weakened or altered form. What follows is, first, a dated testimony — the record of a researcher who took care to write down, tribe by tribe, formula by formula, what his informants told him.

The King and his son

Among the Mtougga, the harvest opens like a small court ceremony. Before any work begins, the farmer and his workers share a meal of bread and butter in the field. Then, tying on leather aprons, they line up at the edge of the wheat, sickles in hand.

The first in line carries, for the day, the title of agellid — the King. Behind him stands his son, his khalifa, literally his deputy, “successor to the dignity of king.” Then come the ait tozzoml, the “people of the middle,” the bulk of the team.

Last comes tikrut, “the ewe lamb” — the least skilled harvester, the one who struggles to keep pace. This hierarchy is no mere pageant. For one day, it recreates an agrarian kingship, one already marked for a very particular fate.

This team is not always the farmer’s household alone. Many fields are harvested through tiwizi — the collective aid by which a village or clan lends a hand to whoever cannot finish the work alone. At Tanant, the harvest tiwizi closes with a scene still remembered: the farmer’s wife and daughters, dressed for celebration, greet the workers by waving a banner — a scarf tied to a reed — to “dry their sweat.” Laoust reads it differently: originally, he suggests, the gesture served to witness the field’s death and hasten the rain that would bring it back to life. The word tiwizi deserves more than a mention — we give it its own piece.

Read also : Our ancestors, the Berbers…

The braid of the field

The King has the honor of cutting the first sheaf, carried straight to the farmhouse. He then enters the wheat and marks out the nira, the strip his men will harvest behind him.

One rule holds firm: at the center of the field, a large tuft of ears must stay standing. Different tribes give it different names — tagottit n-iger or takiwt n-iger, the “braid of the field.” The Aït Yousi call it the tail, tabzzâl n-iger; the Zemmour, the curl, launza n-iger; the Tlit, the mane, izig n-iger.

The name shifts from valley to valley; the function never does. This tuft is no oversight by a hurried harvester. It is a deliberate reserve — a place where the community chooses not to cut, not yet.

The capture of the King

The work presses on. As the end nears, a competitive energy grips the harvesters, who suddenly race each other. Soon only one sheaf remains, at the field’s edge.

The King steps toward it to cut it. But the moment he raises his sickle, his own men seize him, bind him with a turban, and drag him to the mosque, where the village waits. A striking silence greets his arrival.

Laoust reads the scene in three stages. By cutting the last sheaf, the field’s master comes to embody the spirit of the grain it holds. Once, it is believed, this ritual killing had to happen in earnest, for the crop to grow again. The hushed negotiation between the King and the taleb, inside a sacred place, may be its distant echo.

The King wins back his freedom only through ransom — honey, butter, slaughtered sheep, served as a feast for the whole village. The harvest closes with a banquet Laoust describes, plainly, as sacred in character.

Mut, mut, ia-feddan! — The funeral formula

Across much of Berber Morocco, mourning language accompanies the cutting of the last ears. At Tanant, one harvester cries out:

Among the Imeghran, harvesters say as they cut the last sheaf:

The Aït Tatla repeat almost the same words. In the Rif, the formula shifts slightly:

Among the Izenaguen, harvesters cross their arms behind their backs and call out together:

Every tribe has its own words. At heart, they all say the same thing. The field’s death is only ever a stage.

The soul of the field

Earlier in his book, in the chapter on plowing, Laoust had already dropped a key line:

— a soul he describes as

He added, almost as a warning to the reader, that he would return to the idea in the very chapter on the harvest we have just walked through. The thread, then, is Laoust’s own; we have only followed it.

This link is already at work during sowing. Among the same Mtougga, a goat is slaughtered in the field; its blood, Laoust writes, can “embody the baraka of the field or the spirit of the grain,” given back to the earth so the field’s life continues.

Laoust goes further still, raising a more unsettling question: what if the field’s master, before he was merely bound in jest, was once the real victim of such a sacrifice? The question stays open. But it places the Harvest King within a family well known to mythologists — kings whose ritual death is now staged, and may once have been carried out in earnest.

The Bride of the field

In some regions, the central tuft changes sex. It is no longer the braid but laslit n-iger, the Bride of the field — or ‘arost n-iferddan among the Hiaina.

There, the farmer’s wife herself, dressed for celebration, cuts this final tuft. She throws its ears into the air, over the workers, calling out: “For the love of God!” The women around her answer with ululations and a song in memory of Sidi Ali.

Elsewhere, it is the village’s poor women, the limldrin, who pull the Bride free by hand, ear by ear — never with the sickle. Iron must not touch this sacred body.

The spirit of the grain thus wears two faces, depending on the place: an animal’s — mane, tail — or a young bride’s, promised, like the King, to a death followed by marriage to next year’s harvest.

The harvest sacrifice

Sometimes the spirit of the wheat takes an altogether different body: an animal, led to slaughter. Laoust calls this ceremony tigersi n-lmgra, the Harvest Sacrifice.

At Douzrou, among the Ida Oukensous, the farmer leads a young white heifer into his field, its back draped in pale cloth. He walks it three times around the braid, then cuts its throat in a cleared space among the last standing ears.

The blood flows into a hole, covered first with ashes from the Ashura fire, then with earth — so that no dog, it is said, can defile blood that has turned sacred. Each participant leaves with a fragment of the white cloth, kept afterward as a remedy against illness.

Elsewhere it is a sheep (Achtouken, Ida Ou Zekri), a cow (Imejjat), or a she-camel chased on horseback to exhaustion before being killed (Ida Ou Brahim). The principle stays the same throughout: give back to the earth, in blood and shared flesh, the strength just taken from it in grain.

The bridge to Anzar

Once the field has died, it must be reborn. Laoust concludes this chapter with the following observation:

The myth of the dying wheat thus meets the myth of the rain. Laoust’s two chapters answer each other: the harvest calls the rain, as winter calls the spring.

Emile Laoust’s own perspective

Laoust does not hide his interpretive sources. In a footnote, he credits “the ideas of Mannhardt and those of Frazer in his Golden Bough,” and also cites Westermarck, praising his “fine study” of Moroccan agrarian ceremonies.

He goes as far as linking these southern Moroccan rites to “a myth dear to the classical Orient: the death and resurrection of a deity presiding over growth.” He is thinking, quite plainly, of Demeter and Proserpine — the Mother and the Daughter, Greek goddesses of wheat.

He reaches back further still, to ancient Egypt. Diodorus Siculus had already recorded how Egyptian harvesters, on cutting their first sheaf, mourned around it while invoking Isis — convinced that, in doing so, they had killed the field.

On this parallel Laoust closes his own chapter, in a line worth more than any commentary:

He was a researcher of his era, with all the limits of that era. But his comparative instinct, sitting at the very heart of the text, opens a door we have only had to push.

Read also : The Berber world

Read also : Rites and legends of Yennayer, the Berber New Year

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Somewhere between January 12 and 14, an old woman still haunts the memory of Amazigh villages. They call her bayuza, the Old Woman of the cold — and her night carries a different name in nearly every valley of southeastern Morocco.

Since January 14, 2024, Yennayer has been a paid national holiday in Morocco, a recognition the Amazigh movement had sought for decades. But the ritual itself never waited for the state. In 1920, ethnographer Émile Laoust was already recording it, straight from the mouths of Chleuh women and elders, in Mots et choses berbères — still one of the most precise sources we have on these threshold rites.

Yennayer or Januarius: the roots of the name

The word Yennayer comes from the Latin Januarius — the same root that gives us January. It points to long contact with the Julian calendar, brought to North Africa by Roman conquest and kept alive in Amazigh villages long after the Gregorian calendar replaced it elsewhere.

The Amazigh New Year opens the agricultural year, not the civil one. It falls on January 14 in Morocco — sometimes the 12th or 13th elsewhere in the Maghreb — and has counted year 2974 of the Berber calendar since January 2024. The next threshold, in January 2027, opens year 2977.

A tradition popularized in the 20th century ties this count to the coronation of the Amazigh king Chachnak — Sheshonq I to Egyptian pharaohs — around 950 BCE. No archaeological evidence confirms it. The story still carries weight: it gives Yennayer an origin of its own, apart from any calendar imposed from outside.

Laoust’s forgotten chapter

Émile Laoust spent part of his career crossing Chleuh-speaking Morocco, recording what modernity was about to erase, straight from the women and elders who still lived it. Mots et choses berbères, published in 1920, remains one of the most meticulous surveys of that world.

Chapter VI, on time, weather, and sky, gives six precise pages — 195 to 201 — to the first day of the year. It holds a legend translated nowhere else, night-names that shift from valley to valley, household omens that general-press coverage of Yennayer almost never mentions.

The legend of the borrowed days

Before Yennayer come the liali — some forty dreaded nights when the cold settles into the mountains and herders fear losing their flocks. It’s in that tense climate that Laoust records, in untranslated Chleuh, the legend of the borrowed days.

As his reign nears its end, Ennayer — January, personified — swears he has harmed no one all winter. An old woman scoffs: she and her flock survived him easily, she says. Stung, Ennayer turns to Brayer, February, and borrows a day.

With that stolen day, he unleashes hail and freezing wind on the old woman’s flock, driving it to the mountaintop. Brayer asks for his day back. Ennayer never returns it — which is why, the elders say, February counts one day short of every other month.

The same motif — a month that borrows to punish — turns up elsewhere across the Maghreb in different shapes; “days of the old woman” are documented from the Sahara to the Mediterranean coast. The version Laoust fixed on paper belongs to Chleuh country alone: one day, one debt, never settled.

One night, a hundred names

Reading Laoust valley by valley, what stands out most is how many names this one night carries. The Aït Yousi call it asuggwas ujdid, “the new year.” The Aït Seghrouchen, the Izayane, and the Ichqern call it id n-bayuza, “the night of the Old Woman” — a demon wearing an old woman’s face, they believe, who passes through every house and every tent that night. The Aït Ouarain call it biannou, a word that survives in place names too: Tabennaiut, the mountain overlooking present-day Khénifra, still carries its trace.

The bonfire lit for the occasion, called bennaiu or tabennaiut depending on the tribe, isn’t unique to Yennayer alone. The Muslim feast of Achoura, which also marks a new beginning, absorbed part of the same ritual — so thoroughly that in Ouargla, the same word names Achoura itself. The two celebrations blurred together over time, and even the Chleuh who still sing these words no longer always know what they once meant.

At nightfall, Aït Isaffen children go door to door singing: “Bennayo! Bennayo! Whoever won’t give me my dumpling and my bone, may their dog drag them and churn their butter in a packsaddle!” Further south, in the Dadès valley, children chant Bayanno, kerkano; in Demnat, among the Infedouaq, they ask for the “bones of Baino.” Three valleys, three refrains — the same threshold of the year, crossed each time in song.

The threshold table: tagulla, urkimen, and seven-vegetable couscous

The Yennayer ritual, Laoust notes, comes down in Chleuh country to a hearty meal followed by forecasts for the year ahead. Families eat tagulla, a thick porridge still known today as Tagoula and believed to fortify the body, or coarse-grain couscous, berkuks.

The seven green vegetables served alongside — among them artichoke, wild asparagus, and watercress — give the dish its name, sb’a lehodrat. Urkimen, a mix of grains cooked with the trotters of the animal slaughtered at Eid al-Adha, symbolically closes the ritual cycle of the year just past. Among the Aït Tamemt, custom calls for two whole chickens per person — “as many as one has ears,” the text notes, not without a smile.

Eating one’s fill that night is no small matter: “whoever isn’t full that day won’t be full all year,” runs a saying Laoust recorded among the Ida Oukensous. The second night belongs to eggs and poultry; everyone keeps the eggshells knotted in a fold of clothing overnight, a charm against running short of money before the year is out.

Reading the year ahead: omens and divination

After the meal, among the Ntifa, a woman of the house rolls a handful of couscous into a dumpling and offers it to each family member in turn. She then sets it above the doorframe; by morning she reads it for omens in whatever hair, wool, or feather the night wind has left there — the talkimt n-djiuneg, “the dumpling of I’m-not-hungry-anymore.”

Other omens hide in the food itself. Among the Aït Mzal, a small coin, a date pit, and a piece of argan bark go into the cooking pot: finding the coin means wealth, the bark means poverty, the pit means a growing herd. Laoust himself likens the custom to the French Twelfth Night cake — a hidden token, a fortune drawn by chance, two worlds that never met yet answer each other.

Yennayer is also the night the hearth gets renewed. The lady of the house tosses the worn stones onto the dungheap, saying: “I exchange you, O stones… for peace and prosperity.” Afterward, men and women go listening at neighbors’ doors, reading whatever conversation they overhear as an omen for the year — in Timgissin, a girl hoping to marry does the same while licking the spoon that stirred the porridge.

The last Wednesday and the rain forecasts

Among the Ida Gounidif, the month’s last Wednesday calls for a ritual urkimen in which every ingredient — lentils, turnips, carob bark — carries its own meaning, in a ceremony Laoust details over several pages. It deserves a fragment of its own one day.

Among the Ihahan, three tagulla dumplings stand in for January, February, and March, set out on the terrace and sprinkled with salt. Whichever one dissolves overnight marks, by morning, the wettest month to come — a home-grown forecast, kept every year without instrument or almanac.

Yennayer today

Since May 2023, by royal decision, the Amazigh New Year has been a paid national holiday — an institutional recognition long sought by the Amazigh movement, and hailed as acknowledgment of a pillar of Moroccan identity alongside the Hijri and Gregorian calendars. Algeria and Libya had already granted it that status.

Laoust already sensed it in 1920: Yennayer’s practices fade as the countryside empties out. Today the Royal Institute of Amazigh Culture runs conferences and concerts to keep the memory alive — an institutional gesture that can’t quite replace a dumpling hung on a Chleuh doorway, read at dawn by a woman who has never heard of Laoust.

Read also : Our ancestors, the Berbers…

Read also : The Berber world

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For the peoples now commonly called Berbers did not always use this name for themselves. Many prefer the word Amazigh, plural Imazighen, to express a sense of belonging, a language, a memory and a way of being in the world.

Should we say Berber or Amazigh? Is the first term wrong? Is the second more accurate? The answer requires a journey through history. Understanding the origin of the word “Berber” is not only a matter of etymology. It means following the path of a name given from the outside, and then setting it beside a name carried from within.

A word born from an outside gaze

The origin of the word “Berber” is generally traced back to the ancient Greek barbaros, later taken up in Latin as barbarus. In the Greek world, the term first referred to those whose language was not understood. Their speech seemed foreign, confused, outside Greek culture. Later, among the Romans, the word barbarus was used to describe peoples considered to be outside the Greco-Roman world.

However, we should avoid an overly simple idea: the Greeks and Romans did not “invent” a precise name for the Berbers as a single people. The word “barbarian” was much broader. It could be applied to very different populations whenever they were perceived, from the centre of the Greek or Roman world, as foreign, peripheral or unassimilated.

From the beginning, then, the word “Berber” belongs to a history of perception. It did not first come from the peoples it designates. It is an exonym: a name given from the outside. That fact alone is not enough to condemn the word, but it does mean that it must be understood with care.

Naming a people is never neutral. The one who names also classifies, locates and interprets. He may also simplify. Behind an apparently stable word, there is often a great diversity of groups, languages, territories and local histories.

Before “the Berbers”: many ancient names

In Antiquity, the indigenous populations of North Africa appear under many names in Egyptian, Greek, Latin and Arab sources. We find, for example, the Libyans, the Lebu, the Mauri or Moors, the Numidians, the Gaetulians, the Garamantes and the Mazices.

These names are not simple synonyms. They do not always refer to the same groups, the same periods or the same regions. The Mauri are more closely associated with the far west of the ancient Maghreb. The Numidians refer to populations and kingdoms of central North Africa. The Garamantes are linked to Saharan spaces, especially the Fezzan. The Gaetulians often appear in the southern margins of the ancient world.

These names reveal something important: before being grouped under a general term such as “Berbers”, North African populations were perceived through many different names. These names depended on the viewpoint of those who wrote, traded, fought, governed or travelled.

There was, therefore, a mosaic of peoples and territories. This diversity remains essential for understanding the Amazigh world. We are not dealing with a uniform block, but with a group of societies rooted in very different geographies: mountains, plains, oases, steppes, towns, caravan routes and Saharan spaces.

The role of medieval Arab authors

The use of the word “Berber” was later consolidated in medieval Arab sources, in the form al-Barbar. After the Arab conquests in North Africa, Arab authors used this term to designate the indigenous populations of the Maghreb, in all their diversity.

From this period onwards, the word gradually became a more precise historical category. It made it possible to refer to the non-Arab populations of North Africa, with their languages, tribes, dynasties, alliances and forms of resistance.

One of the great names associated with this history is Ibn Khaldun. In his immense historical work, he gives an important place to the Berbers and their dynasties. His perspective remains that of a medieval author, with the categories and genealogical narratives of his time. Yet his work remains an essential source for understanding the place of Berber populations in the history of the Maghreb.

Here again, nuance is needed. Arab authors did not merely transmit a word. They also organised a way of thinking about North African history. By bringing different populations together under the term “Berbers”, they helped to construct a major historical category. This category then passed through the centuries into modern European languages.

From Barbary to the Barbary Coast

From the early modern period onwards, Europeans frequently used the word “Barbary” to designate the coastal regions of the Maghreb, between present-day Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia and Libya. On old maps, in travel accounts and in diplomatic texts, the expression “Barbary Coast” also appears.

This term belongs to an old European geography. It does not refer only to Berber populations. More broadly, it designates a North African space perceived from Europe, often through commercial, diplomatic, military or maritime relations.

The “Barbary Coast” is also associated with corsair activity in the Mediterranean and the Atlantic. Ports in the Maghreb played an important role in these activities, especially during the early modern period. But it would be reductive to make this maritime history the heart of Berber or Amazigh identity. The word “Barbary” mainly tells us how Europe long named and imagined the Maghreb.

It is therefore better to see this part of the story as a later extension of the word, not as its deeper meaning. It shows how a name can travel, change scale, and take on new representations, sometimes far removed from the peoples it claims to describe.

Amazigh, Imazighen, Tamazight: the words from within

Set against the word “Berber”, which comes from a long external history, the word “Amazigh” holds a special place. In the singular, one speaks of an Amazigh. In the plural, of Imazighen. The term Tamazight may refer to the Amazigh language, or more broadly to the whole range of Amazigh languages and varieties, depending on the context.

The use of the word “Amazigh” points to an internal designation. It is not simply a modern replacement for the word “Berber”. It is a word through which an identity speaks, recognises itself and is transmitted.

Amazigh is often translated as “free man” or “noble man”. This interpretation is very widespread, but it should be used with caution. Specialists remind us that the exact etymology remains debated. It is therefore better to say that the word Amazigh is traditionally associated with ideas of freedom, nobility or dignity, rather than to treat these as a simple and definitive definition.

The essential point lies elsewhere: “Amazigh” has become a central word in movements of cultural, linguistic and identity recognition. It makes it possible to name the peoples concerned otherwise than through a term inherited from Greek, Latin, Arab or European viewpoints.

In contemporary Morocco, Tamazight has been recognised as an official language since the 2011 Constitution. This recognition does not sum up the entire Amazigh reality, which extends far beyond Morocco’s borders. But it marks an important change: Amazigh language and culture are no longer regarded merely as a local or rural heritage; they are recognised as an essential component of national identity.

Read also : Tifinagh: from stone to digital, the living alphabet of the Amazigh world

Should we say Berber or Amazigh?

The question often arises: should we still use the word “Berber”, or should we prefer “Amazigh”?

The answer cannot be purely linguistic. It also depends on the context, on the reader being addressed, and on the kind of gaze one wishes to adopt. Internationally, especially in English, the word “Berber” remains very widely used. It appears in encyclopaedias, historical works, linguistic classifications, museum catalogues, cultural tourism and online searches.

For many readers outside the Maghreb, this is still the word through which discovery begins.

The dominance of the word “Berber” can be explained by the long history of European languages, but also by habits of search and recognition. On the Internet, a term that is already established continues to guide usage. Readers often type the word they know, even if it is imperfect. Search engines, publishers, media outlets and tourist websites then prolong this usage because it remains the most immediately understood.

But visibility does not tell the whole story. “Berber” is a name that came from outside. It belongs to a long history of designations given by others: Greeks, Romans, Arab authors, European travellers, colonial administrators, scholars, cartographers. In European languages, the word eventually came to designate a vast ensemble of peoples, languages and cultures of North Africa. But it did not first come from those it names.

“Amazigh”, by contrast, belongs to another movement. It refers to a way of speaking from within. To use the word “Amazigh” is therefore not merely to change vocabulary. It is to recognise a voice, a memory and an identity that are not defined only by the outside gaze.

Should the word “Berber” therefore be banned? Not necessarily. The word remains useful, especially in history, bibliography, transmission and international referencing. It remains a point of entry. But it should be accompanied, explained and placed back within its history.

To say “Berber” without knowing where the word comes from can repeat an old gaze. To say “Berber” while explaining “Amazigh” can instead open a door: the door that leads from the name given by others towards the name carried by the peoples themselves.

A reality larger than Morocco

To speak of the Berber or Amazigh world is not to speak only of Morocco. Amazigh populations are present across a vast part of North Africa and the Sahara: Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya, Mauritania, Mali, Niger, Egypt, as well as in diasporas, especially in Europe.

This wider geography is essential. It helps us avoid a frequent reduction: associating the Amazigh world with a few decorative signs, a few mountain villages, or a tourist image of Morocco. The Amazigh world is far broader. It runs through languages, forms of dwelling, music, crafts, political memories, caravan routes, Saharan spaces and Mediterranean histories.

The Amazigh languages themselves are multiple. Tachelhit in southern Morocco, Tarifit in the Rif, Tamazight of the Middle Atlas, Kabyle, Chaoui, Mozabite, Nafusi and the Tuareg varieties are not mere folkloric variants. They belong to a large linguistic family, with strong regional histories.

This diversity requires precision. There is not one uniform “Berber world”, but rather Amazigh worlds. They share heritages, linguistic structures, symbols and memories, but they are not identical. Their richness lies precisely in this plurality.

What a name reveals about history

The history of the word “Berber” reminds us that a name is never just a word. It carries with it centuries of perceptions, translations, misunderstandings and sometimes domination. It can simplify an immense reality. It can also make it visible.

Behind this term, familiar to French- and English-speaking readers, there is not one uniform people, but a constellation of societies, languages, territories and memories. From the Atlas Mountains to Saharan oases, from Kabylia to the Rif, from the Souss to the Tuareg world, the Amazigh worlds cannot be reduced to one single history or one single geography.

Understanding the origin of the word “Berber” is therefore not only about correcting an etymology. It is about learning to look more carefully. It means moving from an inherited name towards a wider history, in which the word “Amazigh” reminds us that peoples are never only what others have said about them. They are also, and first of all, what they say about themselves.

Read also : Tifinagh: from stone to digital, the living alphabet of the Amazigh world

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Version française

An alphabet between history and symbol

A few geometric lines carved into stone. Simple strokes, crosses, circles, dots, signs that might at first appear to be abstract marks. And yet these forms open one of the great questions of Amazigh history: that of an ancient alphabet rooted in the lands of North Africa and the Sahara.

Today, Tifinagh is immediately recognisable. It can be seen on road signs, institutional façades, schoolbooks, cultural posters, logos, jewellery and contemporary graphic design. In Morocco, it has entered public space with renewed force since the early 2000s. But this recent visibility should not be misleading. Tifinagh is not a modern invention. Its current standardised form belongs to our time, but its roots reach back into a much older graphic tradition.

This deeper history is illuminated by the interview granted to sudestmaroc.com by Ahmed Skounti. An anthropologist, professor at the National Institute of Archaeology and Heritage Sciences in Rabat, a specialist in cultural heritage and familiar with research on rock art, Ahmed Skounti approaches Tifinagh with a double requirement: to recognise its symbolic power, while refusing simplification.

Tifinagh fascinates because it seems to offer a direct thread between Amazigh origins and the present. But that thread is neither simple, nor continuous, nor fully deciphered. It runs through ruptures, variations, forgotten uses, Tuareg continuities, cultural reappropriations, institutional choices and contemporary challenges.

Tifinagh, Libyque, Libyco-Berber: several names for a complex history

In everyday language, Tifinagh is often described as “the Amazigh alphabet”. The phrase is useful because it says the essential thing: Tifinagh is used today to write Tamazight, or more broadly Amazigh languages. But when one enters the longer history of the script, the words become more delicate.

Scholars have long used the term “Libyque” to refer to ancient inscriptions found in the northern part of North Africa, particularly in antique contexts. The expression “Libyco-Berber” is also used for signs associated with rock engravings and paintings in Saharan and pre-Saharan areas. The word “Tifinagh”, meanwhile, has been more specifically linked to scripts preserved in the Tuareg world.

Ahmed Skounti insists on this point: we should not imagine a brutal transition between a Libyque alphabet that would have disappeared and a Tifinagh script that would then have appeared as something entirely different. Libyque and Tifinagh can rather be understood as variants of the same graphic foundation, differentiated according to periods, regions and uses.

This distinction is essential. It avoids two opposite mistakes.

The first would be to reduce modern Tifinagh to a recent political symbol with no historical depth. The second would be to project contemporary Tifinagh uncritically onto all ancient inscriptions, as if signs carved more than two thousand years ago could be read directly through the eyes of today.

Tifinagh is both continuity and transformation. It refers to an ancient memory, but it has also known losses, displacements, reinventions and modern codifications.

Read also : The Tifinagh, the Berber singularity engraved in time

A geography that extends far beyond Morocco

One of the major contributions of Ahmed Skounti’s interview is to remind us that Tifinagh cannot be confined to the Moroccan frame alone.

The history of this script concerns an immense space. Libyque or Libyco-Berber inscriptions have been identified across a vast territory stretching from the Mediterranean to Saharan and sub-Saharan fringes, from the Canary Islands to Libya, and as far as southern Niger. This breadth gives Tifinagh a pan-Amazigh dimension.

It therefore corresponds to the historical reality of the Amazigh world itself. Amazigh languages and cultures do not stop at modern borders. They cross Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya and Saharan Egypt, as well as Tuareg spaces in Mali, Niger and Mauritania.

To speak of Tifinagh from Morocco does not mean making it a Moroccan subject. Morocco has played an important role in its contemporary recognition, but Tifinagh reaches far beyond Morocco. It belongs to a broader North African and Saharan history, where ancient Numidian kingdoms, rock art sites, Tuareg traditions, modern cultural movements and recent language policies all meet.

For a section devoted to the Berber or Amazigh world, this point is decisive. Tifinagh is not a local identity ornament. It is one of the signs that allows us to think about the Amazigh world in its true historical reach.

An origin still debated

Where does Tifinagh come from? The question often returns, because it touches on one of the most sensitive points in Amazigh history: the ability of a people to produce its own cultural forms, its own signs, its own memory.

Ahmed Skounti recalls that the debate around its origins is not definitively closed. Early researchers in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries often favoured external hypotheses. They looked for the origins of the script in Phoenician, Punic, Egyptian, Greek, South Arabian or Iberian influences. This way of thinking also belonged to an intellectual context in which North African cultural productions were often explained through influences from elsewhere.

Over recent decades, the hypothesis of an indigenous origin, or at least of a local creation deeply rooted in North Africa, has gained importance. Skounti does not present it as dogma. On the contrary, he insists on the relative nature of scientific knowledge, on the need to remain open to new evidence and on the importance of further archaeological research.

This caution is valuable. It prevents Tifinagh from being turned into a simplified ideological banner. What matters is not to produce a comfortable certainty, but to recognise the depth of a graphic tradition whose antiquity is undeniable, even if its exact origins remain debated.

Tifinagh is ancient. It is Amazigh. But its history is not fully resolved.

The stones speak, but they do not reveal everything

Ancient signs fascinate because they seem to reach us from a very distant time. And yet they do not easily deliver their message.

Ahmed Skounti recalls that some relatively recent inscriptions in Tuareg contexts can be deciphered. The further back we go, however, the more difficult interpretation becomes. Antique inscriptions have provided valuable information in some cases, particularly thanks to bilingual texts. But a large part of the corpus remains obscure.

Several reasons explain this difficulty. Ancient Amazigh languages evolved. Disappeared linguistic forms cannot always be understood from present-day speech varieties. Ancient alphabets also varied from one region to another: in the north, eastern and western Libyque forms are often distinguished; in the south, several Tuareg and Saharan alphabets have been identified. Finally, the largely consonantal character of some ancient forms complicates decipherment, because the absence of vowels leaves a significant degree of uncertainty.

It is in this context that Skounti uses a striking phrase:

The expression does not mean that nothing has been understood. It means rather that the full decipherment of the ancient corpus remains unfinished.

Tifinagh is therefore not only a heritage legacy. It is also a field of research that remains open.

The Tuareg, guardians of a living continuity

If Tifinagh is still alive today, it is largely thanks to the Tuareg world.

In many regions of North Africa, the ancient use of this script gradually declined and then disappeared from daily practice. Other scripts took over. Arabic was used to write Amazigh texts, particularly in learned or religious traditions. Latin later became dominant in many linguistic works, in the transcription of oral literature and in part of the militant or academic production.

The Tuareg, however, preserved a living practice of Tifinagh. This continuity is not merely technical. It is cultural, social and symbolic. Signs can be traced in the sand, carved, inscribed on objects, used in short messages, or associated with poetic, romantic or identity-based uses.

This does not mean that Tuareg Tifinagh is identical to all ancient forms, nor that it alone can explain everything. But without this Tuareg continuity, Tifinagh would probably be perceived first and foremost as an archaeological trace. Thanks to the Tuareg, it remained a practice.

This changes everything. Tifinagh has not returned only because institutions made it official. It has also returned because it had never entirely disappeared.

Why did Amazigh oral tradition remain so dominant?

One question runs through this whole history: if the Amazigh possessed an ancient script, why did Amazigh culture remain so strongly oral?

The answer is not simple.

Ahmed Skounti suggests an important hypothesis: the ancient uses of this script seem to have remained relatively marginal in societies that did not always develop, in a lasting way, a central political power able to make it an administrative, literary or scholarly tool on a large scale.

The Numidian kingdom is a notable exception. The Punic-Libyque bilingual inscription of Dougga, linked to King Massinissa, bears witness to an official or monumental use of this writing. But this situation does not seem to have continued uninterrupted in later periods. The Mauretanian kingdoms, post-Roman principalities and later Islamised medieval empires did not make Tifinagh the dominant script of their power or written production.

This does not mean that the Amazigh did not write. They wrote in Arabic and in Latin, in religious, legal, poetic, scientific and militant contexts. Amazigh culture was not without writing. But its main mode of transmission long remained oral: songs, stories, proverbs, poetry, family memory, agricultural knowledge, craft traditions, rituals, genealogies, the words of women and men woven into daily life.

Tifinagh therefore raises a deep question: what becomes of an alphabet when the culture that carries it transmits above all through the voice?

Signs, objects and graphic imagination

Even where Tifinagh declined as a script of use, a world of signs continued to circulate through craft forms.

Ahmed Skounti mentions weaving, pottery and jewellery in particular. This does not mean that every geometric motif on a carpet, pot or fibula is a hidden Tifinagh letter. Such an interpretation would be too quick. But there is indeed a visual continuity: a world of lines, incisions, marks and abstract forms in which writing, symbol and ornament are never entirely separate.

This is one of the reasons why Tifinagh speaks so strongly to the contemporary imagination. Its signs are both letters and forms. They can be read, but also looked at. They belong to language, but they also converse with textile, jewellery, wall, stone and image.

This double nature partly explains its current graphic success. In a world saturated with images, Tifinagh appears as an immediately identifiable alphabet. It makes Amazigh identity visible as much as it allows it to be written.

The Moroccan moment: IRCAM, school and public space

Morocco occupies a particular place in the contemporary history of Tifinagh.

In 2003, Tifinagh-IRCAM was adopted as the official script for Amazigh in Morocco. This choice did not consist simply in taking up an ancient alphabet as it stood. It involved a process of standardisation: selecting characters, adapting them to the needs of Morocco’s Amazigh varieties, enabling teaching, administrative use, typographic reproduction and digital integration.

IRCAM played a central role in this process. Its version of Tifinagh aims to offer a script that is simple, coherent and usable in a modern context. It rests on the historicity of Tifinagh, but also on practical criteria: legibility, economy of signs, phonetic coherence, school use and institutional application.

The constitutional recognition of Tamazight as an official language of Morocco in 2011 reinforced this dynamic. The 2019 organic law then specified the implementation of this official status in education and in priority areas of public life.

One must nevertheless avoid triumphalism. Skounti himself points out that the teaching of Amazigh transcribed in Tifinagh, launched in 2003, remains limited in its progress and territorial reach. The presence of Tifinagh in public space is real, visible and symbolically powerful. But the vitality of a language cannot be measured only by signs, façades or official documents. It depends on schools, books, teachers, family use, literary creation, cultural production and the real desire of speakers.

Tifinagh today: several lives beyond Morocco

The contemporary revival of Tifinagh should not be understood as a reality belonging only to Morocco.

Morocco is today the country where its institutionalisation is most visible. Tifinagh appears there in education, administration, public signage, official cultural media and signposting. But elsewhere in the Amazigh world, its situation is different.

In Algeria, Tamazight is also recognised as a national and official language. Yet the choice of script remains more open. Latin, Arabic and Tifinagh coexist according to uses, regions, institutions and cultural circles. In education and literature, especially in Kabylia, the Latin alphabet remains very present. Tifinagh also exists, but more often in symbolic, associative, militant, educational or heritage uses. It is therefore not absent, but it does not occupy the same institutional place as in Morocco.

In the Tuareg world, the situation is different again. In the Ahaggar, the Ajjer, the Aïr or the Adrar des Ifoghas, Tifinagh is not simply an alphabet reintroduced by a modern cultural policy. It is the trace of a living continuity. The Tuareg have preserved the use of this script through the centuries, for short inscriptions, marks, messages, poems or symbolic uses. It is largely thanks to this Tuareg continuity that Tifinagh never became a mere archaeological relic.

We should therefore speak of several contemporary lives of Tifinagh: an institutional life in Morocco, a plurigraphic life in Algeria, a more limited but real official life in Libya, an ancient and continuous Tuareg life, and finally a digital life now shared by Amazigh communities through fonts, keyboards, social networks and contemporary graphic uses.

This diversity is essential. It shows that Tifinagh does not belong to a single state. It belongs to the long history of the Amazigh world.

Read also : The Berber world

The digital world: a new inscription in time

Unicode standardisation opened another stage in the history of Tifinagh.

As long as a script is not properly integrated into computer systems, it remains difficult to use in word processors, websites, keyboards, databases, fonts, educational tools and digital applications. With its Unicode encoding, Tifinagh entered the global technical space of recognised scripts.

This shift is decisive. It makes it possible to write Tifinagh on computers, create fonts, publish online, develop input tools, circulate texts and imagine new educational or cultural uses.

Here again, the symbol is not enough. A script truly exists when it can be used in ordinary gestures: writing a name, composing a message, publishing a text, printing a textbook, displaying a sign, creating a work, archiving a memory.

Digital Tifinagh does not erase carved Tifinagh. It prolongs the same movement in another form: an inscription in time.

An alphabet between identity and use

Tifinagh has become one of the most powerful signs of contemporary Amazigh identity. This is easy to understand. Few graphic forms give such a strong sense of historical continuity. A language can be spoken without being immediately visible. An alphabet, however, appears at once. It marks a space. It transforms a façade, a sign, a poster, a book cover. It says: this language exists, this memory has a form, this culture has a right to be seen.

But this symbolic power also contains a difficulty. If Tifinagh remains only an identity marker, it risks being looked at more than used. The deeper issue is not only to see Amazigh letters in public space. It is to keep Amazigh languages themselves alive.

Skounti expresses this forcefully when he describes the survival of Amazigh as a kind of miracle. This language has crossed the centuries alongside powerful languages: Latin, Arabic, French, Spanish and English. It has resisted through oral transmission, through families, villages, songs, everyday gestures, stories, and through the women and men who passed it on without always having institutions to protect it.

Tifinagh will not save Amazigh on its own. But it can help restore visibility, dignity, tools and horizon.

A memory still open

Tifinagh occupies a singular place in the Amazigh world because it brings together several times.

There is the time of stones, ancient inscriptions, rock engravings and antique monuments.

There is the Tuareg time, that of a living continuity in the Sahara.

There is the time of Amazigh oral tradition, where speech carried memory more widely than writing.

There is the cultural and militant time of modern reappropriation.

There is the institutional time of IRCAM, schools, the Moroccan Constitution and public policy.

And there is the digital time, in which ancient signs become Unicode characters, fonts, keyboards and online content.

It is this superposition of times that gives Tifinagh its strength. It is neither only ancient nor only modern. Neither only scholarly nor only popular. Neither only Moroccan nor only Tuareg. Neither only heritage nor only tool. It stands at the junction of stone, voice, sign and screen.

And this is perhaps why it continues to fascinate.

In the interview granted to sudestmaroc.com, Ahmed Skounti reminds us that there is still much to understand, decipher, compare and transmit. Tifinagh is not a closed file. It is an open memory.

Its future will depend less on the beauty of its signs alone than on the ability of Amazigh societies to make it a living tool: to learn, create, name, write, read and transmit.

Read also : The Tifinagh, the Berber singularity engraved in time

Opening photograph: a rocky site in southern Morocco, in an area where traces of rock art remain. The stone, the sand and fragile life also bear witness to the enduring memory of these symbols. Credit: Abdellah Azizi www.azifoto.com

The post Tifinagh: from stone to digital, the living alphabet of the Amazigh world appeared first on Southeast-morocco.com.

Moha Mallal – Idir is one of the great pillars of Amazigh culture. He was born into a family environment steeped in poetry, with his grandmother and mother both being poets. His famous song “Vava Inouva” opened doors for him worldwide. Originally written and composed by Idir for the Kabyle singer Noura, the first time the song was supposed to be performed live on Algerian radio, Noura was absent, and Idir ended up singing his own song. Since that initial recording, this beautiful song has continued to be broadcasted on radios.

Subsequently, a production company based in Paris invited Idir to re-record the song. A contract was signed shortly thereafter, and the artist left his job as an engineer in the Algerian desert to embark on a very important artistic journey from Paris, which was the dream of all North African artists in the 1970s.

Idir carried the torch alongside other Algerian artists such as Maatoub Lounes and Ferhat Mhenni in defending Amazigh culture, each with their own distinct style. Known for his respect, moral integrity, skill in writing and composition, and above all, his power in choosing words, he is an irreplaceable man.

Morocco should have collectively been proud of the richness of Amazigh culture

Moha Mallal – We use our Amazigh identity, language, and traditions because we feel that our culture is not sufficiently respected in our own country. If this were not the case, if we felt genuine recognition, we would not have this reflex of defense and preservation of what constitutes the core of our identity. If there were this respect, there would be no need for this struggle or the accompanying problems that continue to negatively impact Morocco’s progress. The officials responsible for official cultural policy have committed serious mistakes toward this rich human heritage. On the contrary, we should collectively be proud of these cultural riches instead of trying to erase them, as has been the case since independence.

The Amazigh man is the first human of the Mediterranean and what would become Morocco. Proof of this is given by rock drawings and engravings that testify to illustrations and the Tifinagh script. It seems that Amazigh culture is among the first cultures to have appeared on Earth. Contemporary archaeologists support this theory since the revolution of genetic analyses and DNA studies.

Thus begins the defeat of all distortions of history. The question that arises is why our leaders have long denied this great Amazigh civilization and have done everything to erase it, while at the same time vigorously embracing the East, which has continuously brought us hatred and extremism. This historical reality, unfortunately so contemporary, the Amazigh people, lovers of freedom and tolerance since ancient times, cannot understand or accept it. It’s a question that will linger for a long time because it remains unanswered.

This is why Amazigh people, aware of the depth of this observation, have clearly chosen to defend their human identity through their culture, against all ideologies that have tried to silence their ideals of freedom and universality.

Amazigh culture cannot feel at ease within a single folkloric approach

Moha Mallal – The main source of inspiration for music in Morocco, as in other artistic domains, is Amazigh culture, despite the dialect in which it appears. Amazigh regions still host extraordinary rhythms such as Ahidous, Ahwach, and Rwais, each with great diversity within their respective musical genres. For example, in Ahidous, one finds rhythms like Lmsaq, Tagouri, Amhray, and Izli, which vary from one village to another. There are also musical pieces that accompany field work, such as Tamgra, Arwa, or Tawiza, as well as wedding songs that span several days, each involving a variety of songs, some sung by women and others by men. A patient observer of the rural Amazigh world would discover an endless wealth, mirroring nature itself.

A lire : Ahwach, the Amazigh tradition of Morocco

Unfortunately, this cultural richness is dying year after year. We are losing all these songs, rhythms, and customs, just as we are losing our kasbahs and ultimately our language. Everything that constitutes Amazigh culture is neglected by the state, except when tourist interests are at stake. In such cases, our culture becomes a folkloric attraction, and our soul escapes because it cannot find its vital space or truth there.

The diversity of Moroccan song and music originates from this Amazigh culture, despite the abandonment and lack of recognition by authorities, and even despite the artists themselves. For instance, there are those who advocate for the concept of Arabo-Andalusian music, which originally is Moroccan Amazigh music from El Gharnati, found in Northern Morocco and Algeria, even before it was interpreted in Arabic. Algerian singers like Dahman Alharrach, Alaanqa, and Maatoub Lounes, among many others, illustrate this truth.

El Gharnati refers to the music originating from the city of Granada in Spain. In 1492, Muslims and Jews, expelled from Granada after the Reconquista, settled in various cities in Morocco: Fez, Oujda, Tetouan, Rabat. They brought with them their literature, cuisine, customs, and most importantly, their music: Gharnati music.

Traditional Amazigh music is known for its long poems accompanied by rhythmic instruments such as the bendir and drum. This genre of music is found in arts like Ahwach, Ahidous, Regda, Rekza, performed by groups like Imdyazen and Rways, and Chyukh, who add special musical instruments, such as the flute in the Rif, the Ribab in the Souss region, and the Luthar in the Middle Atlas.

Moha Mallal – The Amazigh music scene in Morocco is very rich, and to better understand it, one must distinguish between its two major currents: traditional music and modern music, as well as observe its vast and diverse geographical distribution.

The Amdyaz (plural imdyazen) refers among the Berbers to an itinerant poet, singer, or musician. Considered a central figure in Amazigh poetry, they are seen as a chronicler and historian of their society. During their travels from village to village, they convey various targeted messages aimed at highlighting current events. (Source: Wikipedia)

The music of the Middle Atlas holds a significant place in daily communication, resulting in a prolific production of songs. Ahidous has given us great singers such as Amlal Qddour, Bnnasr Oukhouya, and Hadda Ouakki, and more recently Med Rouicha and Med Mghni. They have created melodies accompanied by the luthar or violin. However, music from the Middle Atlas remains embedded in well-defined rhythms, and there is still anticipation for new ideas to modernize this style.

In the southeastern region of Morocco, known in Amazigh as Assamer, musical art has only known the rhythm instrument called the bendir. The geographic location of the region, situated between the Souss and the Middle Atlas, has allowed both musical influences to resonate with its inhabitants.

Assamer, in Amazigh, is a place or an area exposed to the sun, where villagers gather during winter days. It has become, by extension, a place for discussing matters concerning tribes and the daily lives of families and residents. Since the southeastern part of the High Atlas, from Ouarzazate to Errachidia, is always exposed to the sun, this region has been designated by the name Assamer. The Jews call it Achamr. (Source: Moha Mallal)

Modern music emerged with young singers from the Souss region like the group Ousman, Ammouri Mbark, and Izenzaren during the height of the Ghiwane movement. Later, in the Rif region, young artists influenced by Kabyle music emerged, such as Walid Mimoun, Itran, and others who appeared in the late 1980s, like Khaled Izri, Imtlaa, Numidya, and Allal Chelih.

In the southeastern Moroccan region of Assamer, modern music only began in the early 1990s when I myself created the first recording studio, Azawan Sound, and my own music group, Mallal. This launch was the seed of modern music in the southeast, featuring singers like Hemmu Kemus and others who would arrive later such as Nba Saghru, Tawargit, Amnay, Angmar, Luland, Khaled Badraoui, Tasuta n Imal, and Tarula.

Others today are taking over to continue the traditional tunes of Tamdyazt (Amazigh poetry) since the 1970s, such as Ouhachem, Chikh Yousf, Chikh Zaid, Med Ijoud, Elhoussaine Kheyi, and many others.

Modern Amazigh music appears in two ways: the first attempts to work with traditional Ahidous tunes by introducing modern instruments, and the second works with a more universal approach in terms of instruments and the composition of poetry and music.

The music, songs, and traditional rhythms specific to our region create a whole that imposes itself on everyone. The cultural awareness of artists from Assamer gives our Amazigh music a personal touch, a true uniqueness linked to our territories. This realization has led us to want to give a name to this musical particularity, and we have chosen to call it Amun Style.

Moha Mallal – Amun, or Tamunt, signifies “union” in our Amazigh language. Historically, Amun was the first god of the pharaohs, the deity symbolizing unity and unification. Some ruins of the Temple of Amun still appear today in Siwa, in southern Egypt, where Imazighens (Amazigh community) live in the Siwa Oasis. This reminds us that the pharaohs are originally Amazigh.

Amun or Amon is one of the principal deities in the Egyptian pantheon, the god of Thebes. His name means “the Hidden” or “the Inconceivable” and reflects the impossibility of knowing his “true” form. It was during the Greek archaic period that the Egyptian Amun was assimilated with the Greek deity Zeus. It was the Cyreneans who introduced him to the Greek world as Ammon-Zeus. (Source: Wikipedia)

When I thought about giving a name to the musical style we were developing in Southeastern Morocco, I shared with Nba from the Saghru group the idea of using the concept of Amun.

Our intention was for our music style to stand out from others, so it needed a name that both unified all modern music styles of Assamer and carried a strong meaning. The concept commonly used to explain our music style could have been fusion, but this word did not fully meet our expectations.

Amun Style is first and foremost about the beautiful Amazigh language. It is not necessarily protest music, but rather a constant exploration in musical composition and the utilization of our entire cultural heritage.

That being said, the idea has not yet been widely accepted by most singers, especially among the younger generation, but I hope that we can establish the concept of Amun Style through the quality of our work and its exemplary nature and ability to inspire.

Amazigh music is in search of beauty

Moha Mallal – As in all civilizations, we observe artistic diversity. Each person fights their battle according to their cultural level, country, culture, and field of creation. In general, we see that political songs prevail among peoples who are victims of ideological invasion and who cannot freely live their culture, identity, and traditions. This has been evident in the birth of major global music movements such as Reggae, Blues, and Jazz. In all these cases, there is an expression of cultural and therefore identity resistance.

Amazigh music is marginalized in festivals and media, and it does not receive the encouragement that is given to Arabic or foreign music. Take Moroccan radios for example, which broadcast a wide variety of songs in all languages ​​of the world, except the language of the country itself, namely Amazigh. Is it a coincidence that this situation of marginalization has persisted since independence?

The few songs aired on Amazigh television are folkloric songs, presenting a limited, even negative, view of Amazigh music. Then they try to portray the music sung by young Amazigh people as always politicized, when in truth this music touches on all themes of life, as is the case in all other countries. We sing about love, society, culture, and philosophy, and we do so with a great pursuit of beauty, both in terms of lyrics and music, which we aim to make universal.

Moha Mallal – Idir’s influence is strongly felt on the style of many artists from North Africa, and possibly elsewhere. The simplicity of his musical style quickly resonates with listeners, as does the joy of his words drawn from Kabyle culture and the ancient stories that grandmothers tell their grandchildren by the fireside. Personally, Idir has played a significant role in my artistic creation and in the love I put into making music and singing since 1983.

Moha Mallal – The Amazigh culture is inherently a space of harmony and tolerance. It is not Amazigh culture that could prevent the meeting and complementarity of cultures in Morocco, but rather those who refuse to recognize Amazigh culture as an original culture of the country, a culture that should be preserved at the same level as other cultures within Moroccan heritage. As long as the Imazighen are marginalized in every sense of the word, I do not see possible complementarity or cultural democracy. We, the Amazighs, speak other languages ​​than Amazigh, study languages ​​far from ours, sing in other languages, without any complex. But do others do it too

However, Amazigh music in all its diversity is fully part of the international repertoire of civilizations’ music. And this entire repertoire, even if it legitimately echoes human wounds, is also there above all to offer the pleasure of sharing these cultures and discovering the humanities that are expressed through them. The humanistic message of this repertoire cannot be neglected, especially with the technological modernity that accelerates exchanges and thus encounters.

Harmony will ultimately be achieved one day thanks to the common will of all young artists from Morocco and elsewhere, Amazigh or not, in the respectful sharing of their linguistic and cultural diversities.

Find out more …

Mohamed Mallal, born in 1965 in Tamlalte, a village located near the Grand Dades at the entrance of the Dades Gorges in Boumalne. He holds a bachelor’s degree in history of civilizations.

He is:

• Professor of visual arts in Ouarzazate.
• Poet, composer, and performer.
• Painter, watercolorist, caricaturist.
• Writer of two collections: “Anzwum” (Concern) and “Afafa” (Awakening); “History of Plastic Arts in Morocco” is in the process of being printed.
• Screenwriter.
• He has participated in various exhibitions, workshops, and music concerts in Morocco and abroad.

The post The music, voice of the Amazigh soul and its future challenges appeared first on Southeast-morocco.com.

You can read the article while listening to the Raïs chant.

In the mosaic of Morocco’s identity, the Gnawa hold a special place. Their presence not only enhances the country’s uniqueness but also deepens its soul. Known for their musical style, the Gnawa community in Morocco primarily carries echoes from sub-Saharan Africa. In this regard, they are the rightful heirs of the distant struggles of slavery that have long permeated the kingdom’s territories, reaching even its remotest corners. The Gnawa also embody an ancestral mystique blending healing arts with divine dialogue. Dispersed throughout Morocco, the Gnawa adhere to various traditions that set them apart from one another. One such tradition is connected to a mythical ancestor named Lalla Mimouna, revered by all as the defining figure of their identity. Near Tinghir, in the Todgha Valley, one of these Gnawa communities resides and regularly resonates with the hues of their heritage. M’bark El Haouzi oversees this community and has agreed to answer questions for southeast-morocco.com.

Southeast-morocco.com – You have dedicated your academic research to the Gnawa, notably by publishing the book “The Gnawa of Lalla Mimouna,” co-authored with Erwan Delon. What sparked your interest in this subject, and why did you choose to focus on this specific community?

M’bark El Haouzi – I am the Amghar of the Gnawa of Todgha, and I have devoted my life to valorizing and safeguarding this culture, which was on the brink of disappearing in the early 1980s.

Indeed, there was a lack of interest in this culture, and the risk of its erasure was real. In 1994, while pursuing my bachelor’s degree in French Language and Literature, I wrote my thesis on “The Gnawa Festival – Performances and Theatrical Games in the Errachidia Region.” In 1992, during an annual festival in Igli, I asked some questions to the late Messaoud Oubelkhir. He was one of the best Gnawa in the South of Morocco and a true guardian of Gnawa memory and traditions. He was renowned for his performances and his specific style of play. Before answering me, he asked about the purpose of my questions. I told him that my intention was to conduct an academic study on Gnawa activities and traditions in the Southeast of Morocco. He then took my hand and said:

I then promised him to dedicate myself to the preservation and valorization of the Gnawa heritage.

Southeast-morocco.com – Can you outline the main points of the history of the Gnawa community in southeastern Morocco: its origins, the period and reasons for its arrival in this part of Morocco, particularly in the Draa Valley, Tafilalet, and Todgha?

MEH – The arrival of the Gnawa in Morocco occurred in two main waves. The first took place during the reign of Ahmed Al-Mansour Dahbi. Born in 1549 in Fez and died in Marrakech in 1603, he was the 6th sultan of the Saadian dynasty. During his reign, which lasted from 1578 to 1603, he brought significant groups of black populations from the former Sudan – now Mali, Senegal, Niger, Mauritania, and Guinea. His objective was to have them work in sugar refineries such as those in Essaouira and Marrakech. At the end of his reign, these slaves revolted and destroyed the refineries before dispersing throughout the country.

Some of them ended up in service to maraboutic zaouias, while others served as chiefs of many rural tribes or alongside the Sultan’s representatives, the Caïds, who took them as domestic slaves.

All of them, scattered throughout rural Morocco, spoke Berber.

Etymology of the word Gnawa : according to Delafosse (1924), the Berber expression “akal-n-iguinaouen,” meaning “land of the Blacks,” gave rise to the words Guinea and Ghana, and subsequently to the word “gnaoua” due to phonetic similarity. Therefore, “gnaoua” would mean, by extension, black man or coming from the land of black men, i.e., sub-Saharan Africa. (Source: Wikipedia)

The Gnawa of the city and their trance culture.

A second wave brought the Gnawa to the city. They are called the Urban Gnawa because they arrived when the major cities of Morocco were being founded. They originated from Moulay Ismaïl’s royal guard and were called the Bukhara. They came with the caravans of Saharan trade at the end of the 18th century and throughout the 19th century.

They brought with them a music whose purpose is therapeutic. It’s the culture of trance. They are Arabic speakers.

However, it’s important not to forget that populations with black skin had already inhabited the Maghreb since antiquity. Many historians confirm their presence, particularly in the various oases of southeastern Morocco as peaceful cultivators of date palms and the land. They were called the Haratine.

The Haratins (in Berber isemghan, singular asemgh), sometimes called Black Moors, refer to black inhabitants of the Sahara, with various statuses depending on the regions. (Source: Wikipedia)

As for our Gnawa community, who arrived very early in the Southeast, we became linked with the Berber tribes of the Ait Atta, and we followed them wherever they went and settled.

Southeast-morocco.com – How did this community live in the Southeast region? What was its position and role in local society? What links did it have with other population groups?

MEH –So our community became closely linked to the Ait Atta very early on. The Saghro Massif represents their ancestral land, the cradle of their confederation. We have always had good relations with them, but like any black-skinned person, our ancestors experienced slavery or servitude.

It’s worth noting the multitude of names used to refer to these black individuals, who indeed do not all have the same origin but who all have been victims in one way or another of slavery.

Two main appellations can be observed: the Ikabliyen and the Ismkhan, also known as Ignaoun. The latter term is given to blacks associated with noble families, present as domestic slaves. However, later on, it is used as a local designation, so gnawa – ignaoun – ismkhan and ismgan are terms with equivalent meanings but which differ according to regions.

Those referred to by the first appellation are marginalized and continue to maintain the status that was once reserved for them. Therefore, in Todgha, the terms Ikabliyen and Haratine still carry a very pejorative connotation, as they refer to black men whose mission is to work in the fields, in other words, to be slaves.

These relationships stem from the dual origin of Moroccans. Overall, they consist of white Berbers and black Haratines, descendants of former slaves uprooted from sub-Saharan Africa. This second category continues to be subjected to an inferior status and is, in fact, exploited by the first.

In response to this situation, we can observe a significant emigration of blacks outside the villages, either abroad or towards the cities of the country, where working conditions are better and more lucrative. However, no one has come to replace those who left, resulting in a loss for the local economy as villages have been drained of their workforce.

However, it would be wrong to believe that blacks suffer violence; they are exploited economically. It should also be noted that until very recent times, these individuals formed miserable human groupings and, left to themselves, did not receive the necessary assistance to remedy the afflictions that burdened them.

A proud Gnawa community of its origins

Southeast-morocco.com – It is common to refer to the Gnawa using the term “Laâbid”, which literally means “slave” in Arabic. Why this appellation? How was this appellation perceived by members of the Gnawa community?

MEh – In fact, terms like Laâbid, Issamkhan, or Issamgan are always associated with the period of slavery and are given and used by white people to assert their superiority, exert power, and dominate over people of color, marginalizing them.

The perfect term is Ignawen (plural of the Amazigh term agnaw). This term is used to refer to black populations coming from distant lands to settle in the southern regions of Morocco. These populations spoke a language that the inhabitants of these regions did not understand. I can say that these racist appellations were the cause of the degradation of our traditions in the southeast regions until a recent time.

That said, nowadays, the Gnawa community no longer pays attention to these appellations because they are aware of the value of their heritage and are proud of their origin and identity.

Southeast-morocco.com – The Gnawa of the Southeast do not enjoy as much fame as those of Essaouira or Marrakech. How do you explain this? What differences can we observe between these different communities scattered across Morocco?

MEH – The Gnawa of Sidna Bilal have been extensively studied and indeed are more widely known in the media. The fact that they live in large cities has likely played a role. Their appellation also explains their notoriety, as Sidna Bilal was the first muezzin of the Prophet of Islam.

Their music is part of the trance culture with therapeutic purposes. They use a three-stringed instrument with a low register. Their calendar is lunar, and their ritual, always nocturnal, takes place at the end of the month of Chaâbane because they believe that with the arrival of the sacred month of Ramadan, all djinns are chained.

This trance practice has attracted much interest from anthropology, and Moroccan society has quickly integrated them because trance already existed in the cultural background of Moroccan society, among the Aïssawa, Hmadcha, and Derkaoua.

To be Gnawa of Lalla Mimouna, from father to son

Among the Gnawa followers of Lalla Mimouna, one inherits the Gnawa tradition from father to son, so we are Gnawa families. Conversely, among the followers of Sidna Bilal, one can become Gnawa by undergoing the initiation process into therapeutic practices, which makes these Gnawa more accessible to study and integrate, as anyone can become Gnawa.

This is why this book constitutes an exceptional testimony allowing us to discover the heritage of the Gnawa of Lalla Mimouna, which until now has remained in the shadow of the Gnawa of Sidna Bilal.

Southeast-morocco.com – What are the cultural traditions specific to this Gnawa community in the Southeast?

MEH – The Gnawa of the southeastern region of Morocco are called the followers of Lalla Mimouna or Gnawa of the Companion. They are named as such because they worship Lalla Mimouna, here called the Companion. She is an ancient African deity whom the Gnawa honor and engage with in all their activities. She is indeed the faithful and inseparable companion of the Gnawa, the one who comforts, heals, and accompanies the Gnawa throughout their entire lives.

This tradition is found in different regions of Morocco such as the Souss region, the North of Morocco, and even in Algeria.

The music of the Gnawa of the Companion is called Ganga in Berber. Regularly, groups go on begging tours, and all of them perform the pilgrimage to Lalla Mimouna every year. Our musical instruments are drums and castanets. There are two drum players who set the rhythm for the dancers. These dances and music are our heritage that we want to preserve intact.

Southeast-morocco.com – How does this annual pilgrimage to Lalla Mimouna unfold?

MEH – The tradition tells that Lalla Mimouna stayed on a mountain near the douar of Tamsermass, in the rural commune of M’cissi, Caïdat, Alnif Circle, and Tinghir Province in Southeast Morocco. Since then, a sanctuary has been erected to commemorate her presence.

The journey of the Gnawa to the sanctuary of Lalla Mimouna always takes place at the beginning of spring, specifically during the first week of the agricultural month of March. It is a ritual journey, a step that all believers must take. For them, it is a customary tradition inherited from their parents; but it is also a time for prayers and seeking forgiveness for sins and the blessing of their lives.

During the three days of the journey, sacredness and divinity are always present. The Gnawa try to relive the mythical time, the one their first ancestors deported from their homeland, would have remembered and longed for.

It should be noted that the Berber tribes of the Ait Atta have adopted the belief in Lalla Mimouna and participate in her pilgrimage.

Southeast-morocco.com – In the past, Gnawa music and dance were an important component of the cultural landscape of the southeastern region of Morocco, much like Ahidous, Ahwach, etc. What were the values and messages conveyed by this music and dance at that time?

MEH – Women are very attentive to visits from the Gnawa; they ask Lalla Mimouna for blessings for their children or fertility for themselves. Women often enter into trance during visits from the Gnawa. These trances thus have a therapeutic purpose as they allow the release of pent-up emotions.

On the other hand, the Gnawa tours constitute a special moment for the villagers, a celebration in which they participate, it’s the time for the spectacle. The Gnawa provide entertainment, but there is also the mystical aspect inherent in the veneration of a woman, Lalla Mimouna.

The villagers see the Gnawa as the bearers of blessings, and that’s why they participate in large numbers in the rituals offered.

For the preservation of the mystical symbolism

Southeast-morocco.com – Today, Gnawa music is reduced to a purely folkloric aspect and seems to have lost its mystical symbolism. Is this really the case, or is there still survival of these traditions? How do you think we can revalue this cultural heritage that belongs to the collective history of the Southeast and Morocco in general?

MEH – Indeed, we are witnessing a folklorization and commercialization of the Gnawa phenomenon. In this context, it’s easy to succumb to the allure of money while overlooking the mystical aspect.

Among the Gnawa of the Companion, we remain very attentive to this mystical symbolism. It is an essential point; the Gnawa venerate Lalla Mimouna with all the spiritual implications it entails, and it is also crucial to respect the tagnaouite values. These are the values we convey: decency between sexes and generations, mutual assistance in the community, and universal peace.

Furthermore, to valorize this heritage, it is essential to have the support of the authorities who must realize the fortune of having Gnawa in their region. Gnawa should be highlighted by involving them in cultural events and making them one of the cultural symbols of the region.

In these challenging times, it is more necessary than ever for policymakers to support our ancestral heritage that we keep alive from generation to generation.

To order the book “The Gnawa of Lalla Mimouna” from the publishing house L’Harmatan.

The post The living heritage of the Gnawa of Lalla Mimouna appeared first on Southeast-morocco.com.

Southeast-morocco.com – Morocco was very early presented as a land of predilection for the expansion and especially the anchoring of Sufism from the East since the 8th century. The multiplication of zaouïas in the Moroccan territories throughout the following centuries illustrates this reality. How do you explain the ease with which Sufism was able to establish itself in Morocco so easily and so durably?

Mohamed Chtatou – After the Casablanca bombings in 2003, the Moroccan government changed its definition of Moroccan Islam to specifically include Sufism, which it believes is a moderate alternative to militant Islam. The origins, implications, and consequences of the adoption of this policy are rooted in the history of Islamic Morocco since the advent of the Idrisid dynasty (789-974).

The government’s adoption and encouragement of the Qadiriyya Boutchichiyya Sufi brotherhood as an alternative to other movements and parties that may express more critical views of the Moroccan monarchy is an expression of the Moroccan religious wasatiyya (middle ground) with tolerance. In this approach, the government assumes that Sufis are apolitical, and therefore not considered a threat and that Sufism can be used to counter Islamist organizations that politically challenge the government.

Before the arrival of any monotheistic religion in North Africa, many Amazigh tribes lived in the region. These communities did not really have a formal religion but rather a tribal way of life that bound them together as a people. These Amazigh tribes thus existed and flourished in North Africa for over thirty centuries and, as a result, it was tribalism that cemented these people together as it became the prevailing social ideology while providing an effective system of governance.

This environment proved to be ideal and conducive for another tribal community that fled their homeland in search of a new and welcoming space to live and prosper. These were the Jews who arrived in Morocco in the year 70 after the destruction of their second temple in Jerusalem by the Romans.

The Jews, because of their matriarchal social structure which they shared with the Amazigh, blended into Moroccan society, and the cultures of these two ethnic groups based on commonalities were transformed into a unity that gave birth to the Judeo-Amazigh cultural substratum which was the basis on which Sufism in the 8th century was able to take root and prosper.

It should be kept in mind that the Moroccan population had very early rejected the orthodox Islam embodied by someone like Oqba Ibn Nafi’ and preferred a dissident from the East, Idris I, to set up a purely Moroccan Islam.

Idris I^er : Born in 743 in Mecca, he is a historical figure of Arab origin, founder of the cities of Fez, Moulay Idriss as well as of the Idrisid Imamate, commonly considered as the first Moroccan state. Of Zaidi faith, he is the great-grandson of Caliph Ali and Fatima, daughter of Mohammed.(Source : Wikipédia)

Oqba Ibn Nafi’ : Born in 622 in Mecca, he was an Arab general in the service of the Rashidun caliphate under the reign of Omar, and later the Umayyad caliphate under the reigns of Muawiya I and Yazid I. He is known to have led the Muslim conquest of the Maghreb from 670. (Source : Wikipédia)

The Berghoautas (742 – 1148), Amazigh warriors, even created their own Islam under the leadership of Tarif Matghari, more flexible and tolerant, by rejecting the pure and hard orthodoxy of an Islam coming from elsewhere. The Amazigh dynasties, although they were a product of the land, had often exaggerated their religious orthodoxy in order to crack down on the Catholics in Andalusia who wanted to reconquer their country and push back the Muslims and the Jews. After the Reconquista in 1492, Sufi Islam became a sort of state religion, which subsequently favored its development throughout Morocco, giving rise to Sherifism and Maraboutism. This climate of harmony attracted the tariqas (brotherhoods) of the Sufis of the East who came to settle in Morocco to develop and prosper and even to spread in Africa as happened with the Tijaniyya brotherhood.

However, some Sufi orders became so rich and consequently strong and powerful, like the Dilla’iyya zaouia or the Dila zaouia, that they flirted with the idea of taking power but were eliminated by the Alaouite Sultan Moulay Rachid in 1668, and their zaouia burned down, to show the Sufis that it was better to stick to religion and stay out of the political field in Morocco.

Southeast-morocco.com – Very early on, many Sufi brotherhoods in Morocco and their respective zaouïas are known to have brilliantly developed the temporal dimension of their existence, in particular by building a strong and lasting economic power. Can you describe for us this master plan that marks the history of the zaouias in Morocco? How do you explain it?

Mohamed Chtatou – Moroccan Sufis set up their zaouias all over Morocco, especially in rural areas. Their primary mission was to consolidate the faith of an illiterate peasant population, teach the precepts of Islam, spread the message of tolerance, heal believers, and even teach them trades. Thus the Sufi Sidi Ahmed Cheikh settled among the Jbalas of Tatoft, north-east of Ksar Kebir in the 16th century. He taught the peasants the use of music to cure psychiatric illnesses, receiving in return food or money offerings. This tradition gave birth to a musical group called the Jajoukas which is known worldwide today for their trance music.

Thus, throughout the history of Morocco since the 15th century, zaouïas and marabouts have specialized in medical care using ttib nabawi (the medicine of the Prophet), and this has allowed them to make money through generous offerings from the people. In addition, when believers visited Sufi masters, they paid them money called ziyyâra (visit tithe). Not to mention traditionally every year, the sultans would reward these saints with a substantial amount of money called hiba sultaniya (sultanic gift) to guarantee their allegiance and offer them agricultural land and trade amenities.

As a result, these saints became rich and influential in society because they redistributed this wealth to the poor to rally them to their cause and their da^cwa (preaching). All these practices still exist today and nothing has changed one iota.

Sufi brotherhoods, actors of social mediation between tribes

Southeast-morocco.com – Do we find in Morocco brotherhoods and zaouïas, in history as in our days, which refused any temporal power, thus remaining confined in their first mission, mystical, dedicated to the only spiritual development of the person?

Mohamed Chtatou – Historically speaking, Moroccan Sufism has always been concerned with the spiritual development of the belief and without temporal ambitions. Moreover, a great number of zaouïas as well as the sanctuaries of the marabouts were installed far from the cities on mountain ridges to show their rejection of materialism, of power, in favor of spirituality. Thus, the brotherhoods openly engaged in proselytizing, preaching, and charity to emphasize the mystical value of life.

In the Sufi brotherhoods, life consisted of dhikr (incantation), prayer and meditation sessions. Apart from that, they practiced social mediation between tribes and clans to regulate problems of grazing, exploitation of forests and communal lands as well as irrigation rights.

In the Rif, during the period of the Rifublik 1889-1921 (period of open dissent and revolt), tribes and clans often entered into armed conflicts that cost dozens of lives. These massacres were only stopped by the intervention of the maraboutic brotherhoods who declared the amân (protection and security) by planting a green flag in the no-man’s land, thus calling the belligerents to negotiate.

In addition to this, the zaouias were very active in social action through the system of twiza, collective volunteer work, in favor of a community member to build a house or harvest. The twiza could also be a fundraiser to help a community member organize a wedding party or funeral.

Progress and change are integral to Moroccan Sufi spirituality

Southesat-morocco.com – Morocco is known for being a country of tolerance and you have already exposed in your previous publications the thesis that Sufism is responsible for this state of mind, this “Moroccan exception” hailed by all in the international community. Could you explain to us how Sufism has played a major role in the affirmation of this tolerance?

Mohamed Chtatou – The concept of Sufism is both complex and multidimensional. Its complexity is due to its long history and its absorption by various cultures in Asia and Africa. Its multidimensionality lies in the various interpretations of its principles and doctrines. The concept of Sufism, in its broadest sense, encompasses individual purification, spiritual reconciliation of body and soul, and universal values to which all human beings adhere.

In Morocco, Sufism is an old spiritual tradition that continues to attract young people. The main reason for this attraction is that progress and change are integral to Moroccan Sufi spirituality.

Thus, festivals such as the annual Sacred Music Festival in Fez, and the accompanying intellectual and cultural encounters, chants, and trances, constitute a powerful means of social expression through which the secular and the sacred merge in enchanting moments that lift individuals above material concerns, reconcile body and soul, and bring the local and the universal together.

As such, Sufism can be a source of inspiration for young people seeking interfaith dialogue. By providing a spiritual space that material modernity cannot, Sufi Muslims are helping Moroccan communities adapt to the pressures of modernity and the turbulence of today. Sufism’s appeal is also due to the fact that it does not prohibit modern means of entertainment, unveiling, or mixing dances and songs. On the contrary, the difference between virtue and vice is not determined by appearance, but by intention and action.

Sufism is thus a characteristic of the different currents of Moroccan music. It is very present in the lyrics of urban artists like Jil Jilala and Nass al-Ghiwane (the 1970s) as well as in the music of the Saharan Gnawas. The Gnawas are the descendants of African slaves brought to Morocco between the 12^th and 17^th centuries. More recently, Fnaire, a hip-hop group, has mixed Sufi traditions with American rap and is extremely popular with young people. A typical example is Rai music, a version of hip-hop that draws on Sufi poetry by focusing on the body, simple expressions, and invocation of the healing power of male and female saints. In this poetry, saints are seen as spiritual masters capable of uniting individuals with God.

Moroccan Islam is rooted in Sufism

Almost six years ago, in a letter read at the opening of the third international forum of the followers of the Tariqa Tijaniya in Fez, King Mohammed VI praised the role of Sufism in spreading spiritual security and the values of love and harmony in order to “block the way to the proponents of radicalism, terrorism, dissension, dismemberment, and mystifying doctrines.

Religion has always been important for Moroccan but in a dimension of moderation and tolerance. It is because of this moderation that Jews have been able to live and prosper in Morocco for 2,000 years. When the Sephardic Jews were expelled from Spain in 1492, Morocco was one of the few countries to open its doors to them.

Moroccan Islam – a term rejected by Islamists who believe there is only one Islam without local colorations – is thus a mixture of Sufism and Maraboutism. In Morocco, there are dozens of Sufi lodges and orders that pledge allegiance to the monarchy and give it religious legitimacy and political strength.

This is why Morocco emerged unscathed from the Arab uprisings and the subsequent Islamist takeover. This is due to the predominance of Sufi Islam in the majority of Moroccan territory, which is almost as old as the monarchy itself.

Moroccan Sufism, represented by Maraboutism, is naturally tolerant, open and accepting of the other in his “otherness”. It has earned the country the respect of the whole world. Today, many countries turn to Morocco to benefit from its religious experience, particularly in the training of imams. Dozens of foreign students are enrolled at the Imam Academy in Rabat.

The interaction between Sufism in Morocco and religion and culture, in general, is unmistakable. Morocco has always had a historical contextualization of Sufism, and over time many Sufi practices and ideals have become integrated into Moroccan Islam as well as Moroccan culture as a whole, to the point that many Moroccans I have interacted with are unable to separate one from the other or trace certain practices back to their Sufi origin.

Although many Moroccans do not yet know much about Sufism, they receive the side effects in their lives. Their Sufism-infused society is thus promoting increased tolerance and decreased religious radicalization, especially among Moroccan youth, and because of the alternative option of Sufism Moroccan Islam is thus deeply rooted in Sufism. And this has proven to be an effective antidote to religious extremism and proof that the Moroccan exception is a tangible reality in the Muslim world.

Southeast-morocco.com – In these troubled times when many people are looking for a new way of living, more in harmony with nature, how could Morocco better value and share with foreigners this cultural heritage that is Sufism?

Mohamed Chtatou – Sufism has always been a universal theological approach, i.e. open to all those who believe in a merciful and benevolent God and who want to meet him through the path of peace, love, and goodness. Sufism is therefore a practical philosophy within the reach of every human being, without exception, in search of spiritual harmony and inner peace.

The pandemic, caused by an invisible “little thing”, has shown the limits of man but also his harmfulness by destroying, shamelessly, his environment, his habitat, and his earthly paradise for very low materialistic purposes. In doing so, he has destroyed the ecological balance. The time has come to return to God through eternal goodness and love for one’s fellow man and Sufism offers us the means and philosophy to do so.

Sufi Morocco can guide us towards harmony in life

Morocco has been a Sufi country for over twelve centuries, a country of generosity, hospitality, and love. When a Moroccan offers you a very sweet mint tea, he opens his heart and his home to you. Sufi Morocco can guide you to harmony in life, peace in the soul, and liveliness in the mind.

Let’s bet that Sufi Morocco will offer, in the near future, a tourist product for the dazzling of the senses but also for the ecstasy of the soul, and this through the discovery and the meeting with the natural beauties of the Moroccan territories, courses of “silence”, Sufi meditation training and exercises for the balance of the spirit and the internal peace.

The post-pandemic world should teach man to search for satisfaction internally far from any aberrant and destructive materialism and Morocco, an open and welcoming country, will undoubtedly be able to offer a healthy, responsible and clean tourism for any human being wanting to reconcile with his Creator and his environment.

To discover : Dr Mohamed Chtatou est sur moroccoworldnews.com

The post Sufism in Morocco, a bridge to the future appeared first on Southeast-morocco.com.

It is one of humanity’s earliest writings, but its origin is subject to various explanations that draw on Egyptian, South Arabian, Greek, Iberian, or Phoenician roots. To date, and just like the exact origin of the Berber people, no thesis has conclusively settled these debates, which in themselves illustrate the dimension of mystery carried by the Berber world.

What is certain is that the existence of Tifinagh, formerly known as the Libyan script, has been attested by scientists since antiquity, and later during the Punic and Roman periods. This is notably visible on funerary monuments and concerns a vast territory stretching from the Mediterranean to the south of Niger, and from the Canary Islands to Libya.

Although the use of this alphabet disappeared early on, the Tuaregs, tribes of the Sahara Desert, are the only contemporary Berber-speaking people to have retained a living practice of writing in Tifinagh.

To better understand this topic, southeast-morocco.com has enlisted the knowledge and experience of Ahmed Skounti, a specialist in these matters in Morocco.

Southeast-morocco.com – Is the debate regarding the origin of Tifinagh closed today? Do we know precisely if this alphabet originates from Phoenician, as an external source, or is it from an endogenous source within its territories of use?

Ahmed Skounti – The debate on origins is rarely ‘definitively’ closed. Science is relative; its conclusions are accepted until proven otherwise, unlike belief, which is absolute and final. The allochthonous origin of Tifinagh was proposed by early researchers in the 19th and 20th centuries. For over two decades now, the idea of an indigenous origin has begun to gain ground.

Southeast-morocco.com – Are the Libyan and Tifinagh alphabets one and the same? If not, what establishes their difference? When and why is the transition between these two alphabets observed?

AS – The Libyco and Tifinagh scripts are two variants of the same alphabet. Each of them includes geographical sub-variants. The term “Libyco” was used by early researchers to refer to inscriptions discovered in the northern part of North Africa, particularly in ancient archaeological sites like Volubilis in Morocco, Tipasa in Algeria, and Dougga in Tunisia. This term is also used in the formula “Libyco-Berber inscription” to describe writings associated with engravings and paintings found in rock art sites across the Saharan and sub-Saharan regions of North Africa.

The term “Tifinagh” was originally used more specifically in connection with inscriptions of the Tuaregs, an Amazigh people whose territory spans Algeria, Mali, Niger, Burkina Faso, and Libya.

These two terms, “Libyco” and “Tifinagh,” are merely designations given by researchers, and there is no need to speak of a transition from one to the other. However, the word “Tifinagh,” which has remained in use among the Tuaregs, deserves attention. Some believe it originates from a root “FNGH/FNQ” that is linked to Phoenician.

Southeast-morocco.com – At what time does the earliest written expression attributed to Tifinagh date back to, and what were the territories where it was used?

AS – At present, we do not have precise datings to determine the earliest expression of this Amazigh script. Gabriel Camps suggested that the inscription from the Azib-n-Ikkis site in Yagour, Western High Atlas, could date back to the 5th-7th centuries BCE. In 2012, together with Moroccan and Italian colleagues, we published the dating of the paintings in Ifran-n-Taska, in the eastern Bani. Three samples provided the following approximate dates: 7th, 5th, and 3rd millennia BCE. The lowest, dating to the 3rd millennium BCE, corresponds to the first millennium BCE. The dated paintings are associated with a few painted inscriptions. However, as we did not collect a sample from the painted script itself, we do not know if the painted inscriptions date back, like the dated paintings, to the 1st millennium BCE. We are left to assume so, but it is clear, in any case, that this script is very ancient.

One of the few texts dated precisely is the bilingual Punic/Libyco dedication to King Massinissa dating back to 139-138 BCE. It is likely that future research will shed more light on this subject, provided that archaeological research is further encouraged.

Massinissa : (238 BC – 148 BC) was an ancient Numidian king best known for leading a federation of Massylii Berber tribes during the Second Punic War (218–201 BC), ultimately uniting them into a kingdom that became a major regional power in North Africa
Numidia : Numidia was the ancient kingdom of the Numidians in northwest Africa, initially comprising the territory that now makes up Algeria, but later expanding across what is today known as Tunisia and Libya.

The Tifinagh is still waiting for its Champollion.

Southeast-morocco.com – What would be the oldest word transcribed in Tifinagh and which people would be its authors? What would have been the earliest semantic intentions of those who used Tifinagh? What were the messages conveyed during the time of its origins?

AS – It is difficult to answer these questions. While relatively recent Tifinaghs in Tuareg environments can be deciphered, the same cannot be said as we move further back in time. Inscriptions from ancient archaeological sites have revealed a few rare secrets, such as the inscription from Dougga, which informs us about the political organization of ancient cities.

It appears that, much like the language, which has several dialects in the Maghreb and Sahara, the writing system differentiated from one region to another. In the north, at least two alphabets have been identified: Eastern Libyan and Western Libyan. In the south, in addition to the four Tuareg alphabets, there are other Saharan or sub-Saharan alphabets, such as the alphabet of Foum Chenna, of which we identified the 33 characters in the book “Tirra, aux origines de l’écriture au Maroc” that my late colleagues Mustapha Nami, who has recently passed away, Abdelkhalek Lemjidi, and I wrote at the beginning of the millennium. This book was the first publication of the Royal Institute of Amazigh Culture (IRCAM) in 2003.

Dougga : Dougga is an archaeological site located in the north-west of Tunisia. It was placed on UNESCO’s World Heritage List in 1997 and is renowned for its well-preserved monuments and the rich history of its Libyan, Punic, Numidian, Romano-African and Byzantine past.

On a diachronic level, it is highly probable that the successive transformations of Amazigh dialects make it difficult to decipher an earlier, now disappeared state. Additionally, the consonantal nature of the script does not facilitate decryption attempts. Finally, North African cooperation is necessary. With the technological means available today and by pooling efforts, it is possible to advance knowledge in this field. Recognition of Amazigh in Morocco and Algeria should contribute to this endeavor.

In short, this script still awaits its Champollion!

Southeast-morocco.com – Despite the antiquity of its written transcriptions, why has the Amazigh language remained largely limited to an oral status for so long? Why have Berber culture and literature not been transcribed in Tifinagh, despite the presence of numerous signs of this alphabet in Amazigh craftsmanship?

AS – It appears that the predominant uses of ancient Amazigh writing remained marginal in a society that did not experience the emergence of central political power endogenously. The Numidian kingdom stands as an exception, as it elevated Amazigh writing to an official script alongside Punic (Phoenician) writing. The previously mentioned Dougga inscription attests to this. Other ancient Moorish kingdoms, principalities established after the Romans, and medieval empires that arose within the framework of Islam do not seem to have employed this script. Even its usage outside central power circles narrowed and disappeared before the Muslim conquest.

Tifinagh continued to be used in the Tuareg region. In the Sahara and the Maghreb, it appears that the symbolic foundation from which Tifinagh originated continues to be utilized in various crafts (weaving, pottery, jewelry, etc.).

Furthermore, while orality indeed dominates the modalities of Amazigh culture transmission, Tifinagh writing was not entirely absent in ancient times. However, more recently, authors have often used other scripts, particularly Arabic and Latin. Since the 11th century and especially in the 18th century, writings in Amazigh have employed the Arabic script, such as “L’Océan des pleurs,” a treatise on Maliki jurisprudence by Mohammed Al-Awzali (died in 1749).

Activists of the Amazigh Cultural Movement have also utilized the Arabic script to write poetry, short stories, or novels. Academician Mohamed Chafik used it for his three-volume Arabic-Amazigh dictionary. The Latin script has also been used to transcribe Amazigh since the 19th century. It has also been adopted by activists of the Amazigh Cultural Movement to write literary creations or transcribe oral texts. These two scripts, Arabic and Latin, continue to be used today despite the adoption of Tifinagh-IRCAM since 2003 as the official script of the Amazigh language in Morocco.

A lire : A dinosaur slumbering in South East Morocco

Southeast-morocco.com – In your opinion, what is the role of Tifinagh and, more broadly, the future of the Amazigh language in a Morocco undergoing significant linguistic changes, particularly with its openness to foreign languages?

AS – It is difficult to predict the future of social and cultural phenomena. Since 2003, Tifinagh has been established as the official script of the Amazigh language. In 2011, the Constitution recognized Amazigh as an official language alongside Arabic. In 2019, the organic law concerning this official status was finally adopted. It defines the areas of mandatory use of Amazigh according to a staggered implementation schedule. Amazigh transcribed in Tifinagh has been taught in public schools since 2003. Although its progression and territorial extent remain modest, it enables the dissemination of the language and, more profoundly, a reconciliation of Moroccans with their identity, whether Amazigh-speaking or Arabic-speaking.

However, schools, from primary to university, need textbooks to teach Tifinagh. It is therefore important to transcribe oral literature and encourage literary and artistic creation in Amazigh expression or inspiration to instill in learners a taste for a language undergoing gradual rehabilitation.

The survival of Amazigh as a language is nothing short of a miracle

Southeast-morocco.com – Can we say that Tifinagh would be the first expression of Amazigh singularity?

AS – Tifinagh is undeniably a specific trait of Amazigh culture. Emerging from the depths of ages and recently undergoing Unicode standardization, which allows its integration into various computer platforms, the future of this simple and original script is still long ahead.

Southeast-morocco.com – What would be the second expression of this Amazigh singularity?

AS – The oral language itself is an Amazigh singularity. Contemporary with powerful languages such as Greek and Latin, having coexisted with Arabic, a powerful liturgical language, and living today alongside international languages such as French, Spanish, and English, its survival can be likened to a miracle.

When the 2014 population census announced that 28% of the 34 million Moroccans spoke one of the three dialects of Amazigh, alarm bells rang. But it seems that they were not heard loudly enough. While it is true that Moroccan Arabic speakers are also, anthropologically speaking, Amazigh, the loss of this millennia-old language would be highly detrimental to Morocco and to cultural diversity on a global scale.

Southeast-morocco.com – Would you have anything to add to our readers?

AS – I would like to pay tribute to my friend Mustapha Nami, who passed away on February 4, 2020. Coming from Aït Ihya Ou Atmane (Goulmima) in our Drâa Tafilalet region, with his passing, Morocco loses a researcher and a highly valued professional.

In addition to his research in prehistory, rock art, and the history of Amazigh writing, he coordinated the preparation of several submissions of Moroccan elements to be inscribed on UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage list. The last submission he was working on in this field concerns the knowledge and know-how related to khettaras. I hope that it will be completed by the partners with whom he was preparing it so that it can be submitted to UNESCO.

Mustapha contributed greatly to his region, and it would be desirable for it to honor his memory by preserving it.

Ahmed Skouti was born in Timatdite (Assoul) in the High Atlas Mountains, now in the province of Tinghir. He is currently a Professor of Higher Education at the National Institute of Archaeological Sciences and Heritage (INSAP, Rabat) where he teaches anthropology and cultural heritage. He holds a doctorate in anthropology from the School of Advanced Studies in Social Sciences (EHESS) in Paris and is also an expert in cultural heritage at UNESCO. He has written several texts in the fields of anthropology, heritage, history, culture, literature, and rock art.

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Occasionally the epilogue to a beautiful story keeps us in suspense, as though seeking one day to awaken our dormant desires to savour the blessings of the providence that inspired them. The story of the Tazouda dinosaur is one such beautiful story, and it has given the territories of the south-eastern region of Morocco a rare lustre that deserves undiminished recognition.

One eventful day, the village of Tazouda, located a few kilometres from Ouarzazate in the foothills of the High Atlas Mountains, saw the bones of what was later construed to be the skeleton of the oldest dinosaur ever discovered in Morocco emerge from its dusky soil. The news of this discovery in 1998 and the results of excavation work undertaken between 2001 and 2007 had such an impact on the population that everyone’s imagination – adults and children alike – began to sketch out a future consistent with this mysterious animal’s existence, which, thanks to Hollywood stories, even taken on features of a quasi-character.

The dinosaur from Tazouda is in fact the emissary of numerous potentialities. First and foremost, it is a tremendous lever for the development of both the village and the surrounding area, thanks to its obvious tourist appeal, thus supporting bookings at guest houses and hotels. But it also has the capacity of being a source of knowledge for scientists concerning the history of our Earth, as well as providing schools with a teaching aid. Finally, this dinosaur reinforces Moroccan pride in their heritage.

Dinosaur: the word is derived from two Greek roots – δεινός deinos, meaning terrible and σαύρα sauros, that is to say reptile or lizard.

We knew the region was rich in fossils, we knew of the drawings engraved on rocks by ancient hands, but we did not suspect that the South East, the natural treasure of Morocco with its valleys, its mountains, its oases and its deserts, had also sheltered the hero of the remotest of times, the emblematic figure of those vast epochs before humans ever inhabited the Earth. And yet, nearly 180 million years ago, here in Tazouda, dinosaurs breathed their last on the sandy bed of a loop in the river. Their bodies disappeared and their bones slowly became covered with sediment.

Long afterwards, what remains of them has allowed a reconstruction of the aptly-named Tazoudasaurus naimi.

Morocco at the crossroads of drifting continents

In those distant days, the dinosaurs that populated the lands of what was to become Morocco had nothing to complain about concerning their natural environment. The climate was favourable to them, tropical in nature, i.e. warm and humid. The rocky plateaus of today were covered with lush vegetation, and numerous rivers and streams. The dinosaurs fed on the leaves of trees, such as the Araucaria or the largish cypresses, and on giant ferns.

The Atlas Mountains had not yet been formed. We are in the heart of the geological era known as the Mesozoic, which lasted from 250 to 65 million years ago, a grand period in our history sometimes referred to as the “Middle Life Era”.

The Mesozoic (from the ancient Greek mesos: μέσο, middle and zoon: ζῷον, animal), formerly known as the Middle Era (or Reptile Era), is a geological era in which species of mammals and dinosaurs appear.

Imagine Morocco at the beginning of this Middle Era. All the landmasses had fused together over the previous 200 million years to form a single block, an immense continental mass that we now call Pangea, surrounded by a single ocean.

Morocco finds itself isolated right in the centre of this mass. The climate is dry and arid. Further south, the territories had just been through an ice age of over some 20 million years.  The oscillations between temperatures were extreme.  And for obscure reasons, following the dictates of some invisible clock, this lonely continent slowly begins to dislodge itself. It will twist in the middle, almost splitting into two, and then later into five pieces. The waters of the surrounding ocean penetrate the rocky masses, a marine corridor is formed and from one erosion to the next, from east to west, from what will become Arabia to the lands now forming Central America, a new sea is formed, the Tethys, which, by the narrowing of its two extremities, will later become the Mediterranean Sea. 

Morocco, once lost in the middle of the desert, is once again at the mercy of the waves, and sees its climate change.

The name Pangaea which literally means “all lands”, comes from the ancient Greek πᾶν (pân), “all”, and γαῖα (gaïa), “earth”, which in Latin becomes pangaea.

Morocco, the cradle of all life on Earth

The presence of these large reptiles in Morocco has long been confirmed, by virtue of numerous discoveries, such as that of the first terrestrial vertebrates, amphibians, other more ancient reptiles and the first mammals. Scientists know that Morocco, thanks to its geographic location, is the cradle for all life on Earth.

The bones of the first large sauropod dinosaur were found in 1925 near El Mers, in the eastern Middle Atlas. In 1934, impressive footprints were discovered by French scientists at the Aït Iouaridene site. Between Demnate and Aït Bou Guemez, in the High Atlas, long tracks of footprints have been found, some measuring 115 cm in length and 75 cm in width. These belonged to herbivorous quadrupedal dinosaurs, with other tracks from bipedal and carnivorous dinosaurs which, although smaller, were nevertheless impressive because of their three imposing fingers. These footprints, solidified in the limestone soil once covered in water, attest to an abundance in Morocco, particularly in the regions that would later form the Atlas Mountains.

Michel Monbaron is an expert on the subject and his scientific career is linked to the presence of dinosaurs in Morocco. A Swiss geologist, he has been surveying the steep slopes of the High Atlas since 1976.

In July 1979, near Tilougguit, he was the one who discovered the first bones of the Atlas Giant, a massive dinosaur measuring more than 18 metres in length and 6 metres in height, including 3.5 metres of front and rear limbs. The interest of this discovery lies in the fact that the skeleton is almost complete, with the exception of the tip of the tail. And a rare occurrence is the presence of the animal’s skull bones, which are very fragile and often absent from such excavations. This specimen was named Atlasaurus Imelakei, and to this day represents the largest dinosaur that has ever been discovered, and is the only one found so intact in Morocco.

A few years later, alongside Najat Aquesbi, then head of the Geology Museum at the Moroccan Ministry of Energy and Mines, Professor Philippe Taquet of the National Museum of Natural History in Paris (MNHN), Dale Russell of the Center for the Exploration of the Dinosaurian World (USA) and Ronan Allain, a researcher at the MNHN, Michel Monbaron participated in unearthing the bones at Tazouda village with the intention of dating them as precisely as possible by studying their geological environment. Vegetable debris, consisting of the remains of ferns, cycads and conifers, were also discovered alongside the bones.

It was Michel Monbaron who confirmed the time markers of between 190 and 175 million years ago, i.e. the end of the Lower Jurassic, and thus assigning to one of the remains –  an almost complete jaw – the proud attribute of being the oldest fragment of a sauropod skull currently known in the world.

A discovery with global scientific repercussions

From 2001 to 2007, the excavations undertaken under the direction of Ronan Allain confirmed the importance of the Tazouda site, since nearly 600 dinosaur bones in a very good state of preservation were recorded, including parts of a skull and its mandible bearing 17 teeth. Two dinosaurs were identified, a sauropod herbivore of unknown type named Tazoudasaurus naimi (the bones represent at least ten individuals ranging from juveniles to adults) and a bipedal carnivorous theropod, also of unknown type, which will become known as Berberosaurus liasicus.

Tazoudasaurus Naimi: this name is derived from the name of the locality where it was found, Tazouda, and from sauros, which means lizard in Greek. The word naimi comes from the Arabic word for slender, and refers to the small size of this type of dinosaur.

The uniqueness of this discovery lies in the fact that continental deposits from this period, the Lower Jurassic (between 199 and 176 million years ago), are only found in just a few places on Earth. As a result, very little is known about the history of dinosaurs in this period. The scientific implications of the Tazouda discovery are therefore world-reaching.

Michel Monbaron explains:

This kind of museum with public exhibits at the site of the discoveries is very rare and the one in Tazouda will be the first in Morocco. The building construction so far has been thanks to a large financial donation from two French patrons, Danièle and Armand de Ricqlès. An association has been created to ensure the follow-up of the project. A scientific committee has also been established but the interior of the museum has not yet been completed.

Moussa Masrour, coordinator of the scientific committee of the Tazouda museum, explains that future visitors to the museum will be invited to follow a discovery trail, starting from the site of the excavations with a reconstitution of the discoveries in the form of bone casts. A life-size reproduction of the Tazoudasaurus is envisaged. There will be display cases showing fossils, plus information panels explaining the evolution of species and the habitat of dinosaurs.

Once finished, the Tazouda museum will complement the future Azilal museum, on the other side of the Atlas Mountains, which will present the imposing skeleton of Atlasaurus Imelakei to the public. The opening of the Azilal museum is planned for 2020 and it will be the focal point of the M’Goun Geopark, a vast territory being promoted under the innovative label of “Global Geopark”, a label validated by UNESCO in 2014. The intention is to offer the public a unique presentation of all the mineral, fossil and natural treasures of this region so rich in history.

Linked in this way, the two museums devoted to the dinosaurs of Morocco will shed light on what was once the life trajectory of these great reptiles that disappeared 65 million years ago, at a time when the Atlas Mountains had not yet been formed, and the plains were frequently covered with water and home to an abundant fauna and flora.

The region of south-east Morocco is indeed full of traces of our planet’s great past and, for international palaeontology, prevails as an important reservoir of discoveries. Moussa Masrour cites the Fezouata area in the vicinity of Zagora, where the remains of an exceptional Ordovician fauna can be observed, also with world scale referencing, or the Kem Kem site, which contains a wide variety of fossils such as those of dinosaurs, spinosaurs, crocodiles and turtles, or the Agdz region with its stromatolites.

The urgent need to make this cultural jewel shine on Tazouda

The completion of the museum in honour of the Tazoudasaurus naimi has been postponed several times, once from 2011 and again from 2015, and since then no clear date has been revealed. But the future seems full of promise: the person in charge of the project, Mr. Lhouceine Maaouni, Provincial Director of Energy and Mines in Ouarzazate and the new President of the Tazouda Association, confirmed that, despite the series of delays, the project has been resurrected, notably at the impetus of the Governor of Ouarzazate Province, Mr. Abderzak El Manssouri, a fervent supporter of plans to construct museums.

It is to be hoped that those in charge of the Drâa Tafilalet Regional Council will finally open their eyes to the riches that Nature, and thereby Providence, has offered to the region they are responsible for, and that they will follow the example of their counterparts in the Béni Mellal-Khénifra region, who have shown vision and admirable accomplishments in setting up the M’Goun Geopark; a tremendous driving force for the development and growth of the country.

Everything is in place for the opening of this cultural jewel to the public, waiting to shine on the territory of Tazouda village, to the benefit of its population who have great hopes, and rightly so, for what will become the flagship tourist attraction in the province of Ouarzazate as well as being the pride of the Drâa Tafilalet region, and of the whole of Morocco.

The day will come when the dinosaur of Tazouda truly will emerge from its slumber and receive the honours it deserves.

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The Berber world is like a world in itself, full and vast of a history that plunges into the distant past of our humanity, rich and colorful with a morning identity from its roots to the three horizons, solid, almost mineral, and yet vibrant multiple resonances of its culture. It is now recognized that Amazighity is an integral part of Morocco’s identity, at the very least of its unity, as clearly stipulated in the new Constitution of 2011.

Sudestmaroc.com takes you to discover this Amazigh world by starting a first journey with the observation of its culture under the gaze of a personality who is both expert and passionate about his subject. Dr. Mohamed Chtatou thus answers our questions.

Southeast-morocco.com – From what time of humanity can we speak of a strictly Berber culture?

Mohamed Chtatou – The Berber, self-named Amazigh – in the plural Imazighens – is one of the descendants of the pre-Arab inhabitants of North Africa. Today, Berbers live in communities scattered across Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya, Egypt, Mali, Niger, Mauritania and Canary Islands. They speak several Amazigh languages ​​all belonging to the Afro-Asiatic family related to ancient Egyptian. These Berber populations have been present in this continental region since the Upper Paleolithic.

The Upper Palaeolithic is the period of prehistory characterised by the development of certain techniques (flakes, tools and weapons made of hard animal materials, propeller, etc.), while at the same time there was an explosion of art. The Upper Palaeolithic extends from about 45,000 to 12,000 years before the present. (Source : Wikipedia)

The indigenous population of North Africa was formed by the arrival of several waves of people, some from Western Europe, others from sub-Saharan Africa and still others from Northeast Africa.

The origins of the Berber peoples are not clearly known but their history is long and ancient, much of which is unknown to us because these peoples did not have a written language at the time. The first clue to their history was the discovery of cave paintings. Indeed, 12,000-year-old North African cave paintings have been spotted in Tadrart Acacus, Libya. Many of these paintings depict agricultural activities and domestic animals. Paintings have also been found in Tassili n’Ajjer, in southeastern Algeria.

From around 2000 BC, the Berber languages ​​spread westward from the Nile Valley to the Maghreb, passing through the northern Sahara. In the first millennium BC, their speakers were the native inhabitants of the vast region visited by the Greeks, Carthaginians and Romans. A series of Berber peoples – Mauri, Masaesyli, Massyli, Musulami, Gaetuli, Garamantes – then gave rise to Berber kingdoms under Carthaginian and Roman influence.

Among these kingdoms, Numidia and Mauritania were officially incorporated into the Roman Empire at the end of the 2^nd century BC, but others appeared in late antiquity following the Vandal invasion of 429 AD and Byzantine reconquest of 533 AD, only to be suppressed by Arab conquests of the 7^th and 8^th centuries AD.

Southeast-morocco.com – In view of the vast geographical expanse occupied by Berber populations, are we dealing with a Berber culture or Berber cultures?

MC – We can distinguish two main Berber cultures: that of the north, in the countries bordering the Mediterranean, and that of the south in the Sahara and the Sahel.

The Berbers of the North received the denomination of Imazighens and those of the South of Tuaregs. The Imazighen are mostly sedentary with a nomadic minority and the Tuareg are mostly nomadic. The Imazighen are found from the Siwa Valley in Egypt to the Canary Islands via Libya, Tunisia, Algeria and Morocco. The Tuaregs in Mali, Niger and a tiny part in Burkina Faso.

Southeast-morocco.com – What was the organizational model of the Berber community?

MC – First of all, the traditional Berber community has as its basic unit the nuclear family, generally patrilineal. Starting from this unity, the tribal group is composed by the reunion of several families gathered around the name of a common ancestor. It is also from this founding name that the tribes acquire a public identity. They use the name Aït, which means people or family, followed by the name of the common ancestor.

In principle, all families within a tribe are equal, governed by a code of honor under the authority of a council of elders, the jmā^cath (democratically elected political entity) which maintains harmony within the community and act of judgments in the event of conflicts, in particular to fix compensations and determine punishments.

In fact, the different Berber societies were not so egalitarian. The tribe regularly admitted new people to their village, but they were then considered inferior. More generally, the elders who held power often came from the same ruling families.

The Tuaregs, a people of aristocratic nomads

The Tuaregs of Ahaggar and southern Sahara, also known as “blue men” because of their indigo-dyed robes and face veils, were aristocratic nomads who ruled over vassals, serfs and slaves who cultivated the oases in their name; they in turn recognized supreme chiefs or kings, who were called amenukals. The Tuaregs have retained a form of the ancient Libyan consonant script under the name Tifinagh, although most of the script is done in Arabic by a class of Muslim scholars.

Southeast-morocco.com – How is the Berber identity structured?

MC -One can distinguish three main themes in the Amazigh culture which constitute an important and primordial trinity in its system of values. These themes have transcended Berber culture and have been widely accepted as core concepts of Moroccan identity.

The trinity in question revolves around the following notions: first, we distinguish the importance of language as a vehicle of culture and the main marker of identity (Tamazight/awal) both in terms of communication and the perpetuation of history. Then there is the omnipresence of the strong and indivisible system of kinship and belonging to the extended family (ddam/tamount) which is expressed by solidarity and coexistence. Finally, there is the strong connection to the earth and the identification with its benefits and the belief in its sacredness (akkal/tammourt/tamazirt); this last identity marker is very strong among other peoples around the Mediterranean.

The most obvious theme, which is present in the Amazigh community in Morocco, is the importance of language in society, civilization and life. When one contemplates the culture of the Amazigh people, there is a clear correlation between the relevance of the language and the preservation of civilization and millennial traditions. This is the case, for example, of the Master Musicians Jahjouka in the northeast of Morocco. Their trance music and anthropological theater has gone through four thousand years of history without a scratch.

The history and belief system of the Amazigh people have been preserved orally from father to son; where one generation transmitted history, wisdom and laws to another, automatically through the mother tongue, a powerful linguistic vehicle. In reality, despite the existence of three distinct Amazigh dialects in Morocco, the history and laws of the Amazigh people have synchronized and survived countless invasions through a long history of eight millennia.

The matriarch as the pivotal person of the Amazigh family

However, the idea of ​​kinship that manifests itself through people related by blood, experience and history shows a relevant distinction between Amazigh and Moroccan culture in the sense that the Amazigh community system emphasizes the notion of the matriarch as the pivotal person of the family imbued with democratic values, while Moroccan culture, of Arab substrate, prefers a patriarchy, very strong and undivided.

Among the Amazighs, blood ties are sacred in marriage, paternity and family affiliations. Indeed, two tribes sign their alliance by a marriage. Blood, in the context of sacrifice, is also a sign of reconciliation, of asking for forgiveness and of respect (tagharst). It is also the symbol of hospitality, a sheep is slaughtered to welcome a guest or any stranger because to shed blood is to establish a bond of respect with the newcomer and include him in society and in the community, the jma^cath.

The earth, a sacred good

The Amazighs regard the land as a sacred good which not only supported life, but provided protection against Western and Arab imperialist campaigns and which also helped to preserve the language and the community system. Moreover, the sale of any inherited piece of land has been a strongly stigmatized notion (Hshuma) in the Amazigh culture of always.

The Amazigh civilization has survived the wear and tear of time and invading cultures thanks to the infinite love that the natives of North Africa have for the land that nourishes, protects and strengthens them. We can also see that Amazigh has managed to defy time because the mountains (akkal) have protected it against acculturation and invasion.

The love of the Amazigh for the land is manifested in agriculture and during festivals celebrating its benefits for the community. We find such celebrations among the ancient Amazighs of the Jbalas, in particular the Aït Serif clan with their oldest musicians in the Mediterranean, the Jahjouka, who celebrate the fertility of the land in music and dance during their annual festival known by the name of Boujloud in Arabic and Bou-Irmawen/Ilmawen in Tamazight.

Southeast-morocco.com – Exogenous political and cultural powers have regularly occupied Amazigh territories, from the Phoenicians to the French. How did Berber culture develop in the face of these successive pressures? Has Berber culture demonstrated a capacity for assimilation, interbreeding or preservation?

MC – The history of the Berbers living today in Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria, Libya and Egypt, is deeply marked by the domination of groups of populations from elsewhere – first by the Romans, then by the Arabs, and later by the French, Spaniards and Italians.

“Adaptation and rebellion” – these were the only options open to the Berbers under foreign rule. As free men, that is how the term Imazighen can be translated into English, they mostly opted for non-adaptation and retreated to mountainous areas to practice their culture in their families and escape prosecution from foreign rulers.

Tattoos were one of the means of rebellion. The signs and ornaments that decorate the backs of men’s hands speak of tribal affiliation and religion – and they were banned under Muslim rule.

To counter its assimilation in the face of the cultures of the conquering peoples, the Berbers were able to ensure their own cultural continuity throughout history thanks to their arts and the identity symbols that were thus conveyed. Music obviously played an important role. The ancient Berber culture is extraordinarily rich and diverse, with a variety of musical styles. These range from bagpipes and oboe (Celtic style) to pentatonic music (reminiscent of Chinese music), all combined with African rhythms and a very large stock of authentic oral literature. These traditions have been kept alive by small bands of musicians who travel from village to village, as they have done for centuries, to enliven weddings and other social occasions with their songs, stories and poems.

The mother, vector of Berber cultural continuity

Berber mothers have been largely responsible for the survival of the Berber language and cultural identity. Mothers share traditional stories and beliefs with their children. Women also preserve cultural traditions through handicrafts, such as tapestry, jewelry, tattoos, and pottery.

Rural women, especially those who are illiterate, preserve Tamazight as a living language, infusing traditional art forms with a certain orality to transmit linguistic traditions from generation to generation. In the realm of music and poetry, Amazigh women use their verses to keep the community informed of the movements of different members, to recount important events, to uphold moral and social codes, and to remind the wider community the ties that unite them and their common memory.

Southeast-morocco.com – The Amazigh New Year represents a singular Amazigh tradition. Could you retrace the origins and the symbolism of this tradition?

MC – Although anthropologists say that it is difficult to establish with precision the possible historical roots of the Berber New Year, known as Yennayer. Some historians link it to the enthronement as pharaoh of the Amazigh king Shashnak after defeating Ramses III, in 950 BC. The Amazighs thus succeeded in establishing a kingdom that stretched from Libya to Egypt. This glorious victory would have marked the beginning of the Amazigh calendar.

The Amazigh New Year marks the first day of the agricultural year for Berber communities. It corresponds to the first day of January in the Julian calendar. The year 2020 thus corresponds to the year 2970, and the day of the new year is around January 12 in our usual calendar. The Berbers sometimes call this festival “Id u-Suggas“, which means “night of the year”. And Arab communities call it “Hagouza“, which means “Agrarian Year”.

The Julian calendar: is a solar calendar used in ancient Rome, introduced by Julius Caesar in 46 BC to replace the Roman Republican calendar. It was used in Europe until it was replaced by the Gregorian calendar in the late 16th century. There is a 14-day difference between the Gregorian calendar and the Berber calendar.

The Berber people celebrate Yennayer in Morocco, Libya, Tunisia and parts of Egypt. The Algerian government recognizes it as a national holiday. In Morocco, many people are working to have Yennayer recognized as a national holiday as well.

As an agricultural holiday, Yennayer is a celebration of life. Like the January 1 holiday, it is a time for people to wish for longevity, prosperity and the future. It is a day for weddings and other important life events. Children go through important rites of passage during this Yennayer holiday. Boys may receive their first haircuts. And parents send their children to get fruits and vegetables.

Food is an important part of the celebration and several dishes are traditionally served on this special day. Orkimen is a thick soup made of dried beans and wheat. Couscous is another traditional dish, and on Yennayer it is specially prepared with seven vegetables. Tagoula is a meal of corn grains prepared with butter, ghee, argan oil and honey.

A date seed or a piece of almond can be hidden in the Tagoula or couscous. Whoever finds the seed or nut is supposed to be blessed throughout the year. In the past, this person was entrusted with the keys to the storage room for the rest of the year.

There are also many amazing traditions and practices that accompany the food that the Amazigh prepare for this festive night. In addition to the special dances and songs of love, fertility, and prosperity that welcome a new agrarian year, the Amazighs, especially those living in the countryside, find this occasion a better chance to socialize, exchange food, and reconcile with those with whom they have had some misunderstanding.

Southeast-morocco.com – What is the role of women in Berber culture?

MC – The orality of women, most of whom are illiterate, is a major factor in the survival of Tamazight, as they use this language in domestic communication, raising children, and repeating folk stories, poems, proverbs, songs, and family and cultural stories. Because Tamazight and related Amazigh languages are not taught in public schools, it is incumbent upon Amazigh women to pass on knowledge of the language to subsequent generations. And as primary caregivers, women are the children’s first link to Tamazight, giving the language its mother tongue status and consolidating its longevity despite its lack of representation in the public sphere.

Another reason why women can be considered the primary actors in the preservation of Tamazight lies in their related role as custodians of culture. In addition to managing their homes and raising their children, women play a vital role in preserving Amazigh artistic and cultural heritage through their work in areas such as textiles, music, poetry, and dance.

Again, women are particularly important because they infuse these arts with traditions passed down orally from generation to generation. For example, women give Tamazight names to their textile designs and pass them on to their daughters. The names vary depending on the similarity the weaver imagines between the pattern and surrounding objects or the natural world, so that a single pattern may have a multitude of descriptive Tamazight names for different artists and families.

Moroccan Amazigh rugs are unique and have a fascinating history. They are one of the most famous folk art carpet styles. These carpets have been made continuously for over two millennia. The weaving of Moroccan carpets has always been the responsibility of Amazigh women both in terms of creation, weaving and artistic representation.

Women were responsible for preserving and transmitting the knowledge necessary for the manufacture of these carpets, including the secrets of family patterns, looping techniques and the colors to be used. All of this knowledge about the history of Amazigh carpet weaving was passed down matrilineally, with each generation of women responsible for passing it on to the next. Carpets were used within tribal groups as house covers, horse blankets, standards, flags and other utilitarian objects.

Southeast-morocco.com – What are the specificities of Tuareg culture within the Berber cultural community?

MC – Although they have retained the language and many of the customs of their Berber ancestors, the Tuareg have developed a unique culture of their own, a true synthesis of many traditions, including not only Berber and Arab, but also elements of indigenous peoples who reside in the Sahel.

An aura of mystery and romance surrounds the desert nomads known as Tuaregs. Long known as warriors, traders, and skilled guides in the arid, harsh Sahara Desert, the Tuareg have seen their independence severely threatened by recurring droughts that kill their herds and by international borders that severely restrict their travel. Many have been forced to abandon their nomadic lifestyle and settle down, forming small villages or moving to cities to find work.

Berbers once sought refuge in the oases of the Sahara

The Tuareg people represent a Saharan offshoot of the Berbers, who have resided in North Africa for several millennia. While today’s Tuareg are nominally Muslim, their ancestors fled to the Sahara Desert to avoid submission to Arab conquerors and conversion to Islam. Following the Arab conquests in the seventh century A.D., and then the Bedouin immigrations to North Africa in the eleventh century A.D., many groups of Berbers sought refuge in the oases of the Sahara. There they adopted a nomadic and predatory lifestyle, modelled on that of their invaders.

These nomadic pastoralists inhabit a region of North Africa that stretches from central Algeria and Libya in the north to northern Nigeria in the south, and from western Libya in the east to Timbuktu in Mali in the west. Today there are an estimated 1.3 million Tuareg, most of whom live in Mali and Niger.

Tuareg society is traditionally feudal, with five castes: nobles, vassals, holy men, artisans and workers (former slaves). The Tuareg are traditionally monogamous and have a matrilineal inheritance system. In this, they differ markedly from their Berber relatives, the Arabs and most other sub-Saharan peoples.

Southeast-morocco.com – Is it finally possible to distinguish the Berber part in the identity of Morocco?

MC – The cultures that make up Morocco are inextricably linked. But the Amazigh culture is nevertheless the central element of the way of life and the popular belief system dominant in Morocco. One example is the Twiza, or community support network, which is basically an Amazigh concept but has become the foundation of Morocco’s contemporary social structure.

In Morocco, Amazigh customs and belief systems are central to popular Islam, including Sufism as practiced by Sunni Maliki Muslims.

Read more : The Naciria zaouia of Tamegroute, exploration of its genesis

The relationship between Islam and the Amazigh in Morocco is mutually reinforcing. Islam is the religious tradition of the Amazigh. The Amazigh in turn color the tradition with their local languages, customs, and beliefs, some of which predate Islam. Thus the ancient Amazigh animistic belief in the religious significance of the seasons gained an additional layer of Islamic significance when Moroccan followers (sing. murid, pl. muridun) of the Amazigh Sufi Sidi Harazem associated the miracle (karâmah) of spring with this Friend of God. Popular Islamic mysticism, or Sufism, in Morocco reconstructs pre-Islamic religious phenomena through an Islamic theological medium. The Amazigh awliyâ’ Allah, or Friends of God, do the crucial work of locating the Islamic tradition in their Amazigh linguistic and religious context. Popular Sufi Islam in Morocco is thus a tradition that values both the local Amazigh cultural context and the Islamic tradition.

It should not be forgotten that the Amazigh are the original inhabitants of Morocco. They have continuously lived in this country for over five thousand years. The relationship between Amazigh culture and Moroccan society is therefore natural. The beliefs and lifestyles of the original inhabitants of Morocco are therefore central to contemporary Moroccan culture.

Mohamed Chtatou is a professor of “corporate communication” at the International University of Rabat (UIR) and of “pedagogy” at the Mohammed V University of Rabat. In addition, he is currently a political analyst for Moroccan, American, Arab, French, Italian and British media on Middle East politics and culture, Islamism and religious terrorism. He is also a specialist on Sufism and political Islam in the MENA region and is interested in the roots of terrorism and religious extremism.

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