It is not easy to write about Morocco. It is such a rich and diverse country, in history, cultural tradition, and religious legacy.

I flew into Rabat on June 5, a quaint and quiet airport; only a few planes land there, and all from Paris. Within an hour, I had reached my hotel, and then went down to discover the city. I had read so much about it that I thought it would be familiar. But it turned out to be fabulously different from my seventeenth-century sources.

I had thought that the weekend in Morocco, like other Islamic countries, was on Thursday and Friday. But, it turned out to be like Lebanon (my country of origin) and closed on Saturday and Sunday. So I decided to explore Rabat, and walked and walked and walked. The souks were similar to other souks I had seen in Beirut, Sidon, Aleppo, Damascus, Cairo, Istanbul and Tunisia: the Islamic city design clearly stretched from the Atlantic all the way across the Mediterranean. And in the souks, again, the same assembly of bargainers and negotiators, tiny shops, specialized markets (gold, fish, meat, etc.), cheap hotels and even cheaper movie theaters, and the infinite variety of beggars – homeless, aged or disfigured. The historic sites were magnificent: the Hassan Tower, the Kasbah, Sale across the river, the numerous medieval gates, the seventeenth- century Andalusian wall, and many others. In the modern/French part of the city, I was so reminded of other cities in the Mediterranean which had been colonized and therefore designed by the French. It was like Beirut and Damascus and Tunis: long boulevards, palm trees in the middle, French spoken all over (I think only in Morocco do beggars implore you in French), even, and rather eerily, the shoe-shiners had the same rhythm and techniques as those I had been used to in Beirut. Later I found out that the University system is exactly the same as in Lebanon: who ever said that colonialism is gone? The infrastructure is still strongly French. Even the cars (French and Italian, few American or Japanese), place names (Rabat Ville) and all modes of personal communication confirm that France is still very much alive in Morocco.

I had thought I would have the opportunity to speak my native tongue. But I could not understand the Arabic of the Moroccan dialect, although Moroccans, because of Middle Eastern television series, could understand me well. French is of course a dominant language and it is wonderful to see a society so bi-lingual. But I was surprised that when I spoke to students at the University (Muhammad V in Rabat) and told them to speak to me in classical Arabic, they often replied with French words and expressions. When I took a cab with an illiterate driver, we could only smile at each other and gesticulate. Fortunately, expressions of submission to God and faith that He would get us safely to our destinations were mutually recognizable. So with taxi drivers, language became religious.  

On my first Sunday, I took the train up to Meknes, toured the city, took a cab to Moulay Idriss and then Volubulis. The Roman site was interesting, with the magnificent storks perched on top of the columns; but coming from Lebanon and its Baalbeck and nearby Jerash in Jordan, I would say that I had seen more exciting Roman ruins. On visiting Moulay Idris, however, I realized I was in a unique expression of Islamic culture. I arrived in the afternoon, when sufi chants were being sung by a group of devotees; women, men and children sat in the sahn, and then sometimes entered to the hall of the tomb where they sought blessings, prayed, or simply meditated. The shrine conveyed an intense religious feeling, perhaps only equaled in my experience with the Dome of the Rock and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. Moulay Idriss is an expression of Islamic piety unique to the devotion of Morocco. Not only the dialect but the devotion was distinctly “Maghribi.” The more I learned about these “saints,” the more I could understand the tensions of early modern Moroccan history between the makhzan/government and the sufi lodges.

Upon returning to Rabat, and as I walking back to my hotel, I passed by the Cathedral of St. Pierre. There was a Bach organ recital, and so I walked in -- from Muslim chanting to Christian musical devotion. It was a gentle conclusion to the day.

On Monday, I began my archival work. The librarians at both the National and the Royal Libraries (in Rabat) were most helpful, and I am very grateful to them. Although I burdened them with my requests, they were always gracious and provided me with all the microfilms and photocopies that I needed. It was wonderful that the National Library was open on Saturday (until 6:00 p.m.), although it closed on Monday, while the Royal Library was open on Monday but closed on Saturday. Going into the Royal library was quite an experience as it is situated within the royal palace grounds. There was no problem getting permission to enter the grounds from the officer in charge, although, sometimes, I had to wait until he finished with other duties – and found myself sitting with some shady characters. But then I would continue to the Library, which took me through the beautiful grounds of the Meshouar.

After spending nine days of work at the libraries, and filling up a few writing pads with notes and references, I went up to Al-Akhawayn University where I had been invited to give a lecture by Dr. Lynn Dahmen of the English Department. Ifrane should be a must for every traveler: so beautiful, cool, and charming. The University is private and is the first in Morocco to follow the American system of education. It has a very good library, a wonderful mix of faculty and extremely energetic students. I so enjoyed their questions and seriousness, and was confirmed how much the American system is far superior to the by-now obsolete French system that is in place in the rest of the country. I was given a tour of the grounds, as earlier I had been given a tour of parts of Meknes I had not seen on my first trip. I am most thankful to Dr. Dahmen, the Dean, and other members of the faculty who kindly took me around (Drs. Eric Ross and John Shoup). 

I then traveled by grand taxi to Fez where I had also been invited to give a lecture at the University. Dr. Khalid Bekkaoui of the English Department was my host, as was, of course, the Dean of the Faculty of Arts. This time I was lecturing to graduate students, whom I found, equally excited, serious and curious. It was an intense session that went on for nearly three hours. Dr. Bekkaoui made sure that I got with many of the faculty after which, and for two consecutive days, I was taken on a tour of the souks. My “guides” were faculty members and graduate students from Fez who knew every corner of that medieval world (and there is no other way to describe it – except when one of them strayed away and we could not locate him: the other faculty member pulled out his cell phone and called him, and so, for a brief moment, we were back in the twenty-first century). We went to the Karawiyyeen mosque, an amazing feat of genius, and then to the shrine to Moulay Idriss II.

I can only say that I fell in love with the shrines of Morocco. After Fez, I went to Casablanca where I remained for the rest of my trip. I consulted the library of King Abd al-Aziz, and took the train regularly to Rabat’s National Library: the train fare was only three dollars – and the trains were on time, clean, efficient, and comfortable. On these visits, I consulted some Ph.D. dissertations at the university library, just next to the National Library. Casablanca is not really an interesting place, but I managed to go around its souks and the Houbous area which had numerous bookshops; I am grateful to Dr. Anouar Majid who suggested that area to me. I visited the magnificent mosque of Hassan II and was so happy to have a guide who came from the English Department of Muhammad V University. It was disappointing that visitors could not make it up the minaret which should provide a magnificent view of the city.

From Casablanca, I went on a day trip to El Jadida to see the remains of the Portuguese presidio. (One of the seventeenth-century writers I was studying, Ahmad bin Qasim, had fled from the Andalus and landed in that same presidio.) From there, I took a taxi to the Boulaouan fort/castle – a place that evidently very few tourists ever visit. But it is in a stunning location and very well preserved, built by Moulay Ismail of the present Alawite dynasty. A few days later, I went up to Marrakesh, another royal city, especially that many of the writers and rulers I am studying had lived and died there. The train trip was pleasant, and the city was, again, another Moroccan marvel. I visited the Saadian sites, the museums, the shrine of Sidi al-Jazouli, the Kutubiyya mosque, and then at night ventured into the world of Jama' al-Fna. I have never experienced anything like it. On the next day, I took the bus down to Essaouira, walked around till the evening, looked carefully at the Portuguese fort, then took the bus back to Marrakesh and from there to Casablanca. 

My stay in Morocco was fruitful and extremely enriching. I am so grateful that I was given the opportunity by AIMS to visit the country about which I have been researching for years. I am particularly grateful to Ms. Becky Schulthies who was always helpful and encouraging.

The resources in the Moroccan libraries are vast: thanks to a number of distinguished Moroccan scholars, they have been clearly and efficiently catalogued. I just hope that more attention will be given to manuscripts and printed material so they can endure the heavy pollution of the cities. The law in Morocco prohibits non-Muslims from entering mosques and shrines: such prohibition prevents visitors from seeing the most beautiful and stunning buildings in the history of Islam in North Africa. It is a pity. This law should, in my view, be challenged.