Muslim in America

Not by a long shot was every Moroccan I met during my two-year stay interested in (a) converting me to Islam, (b) arranging a marriage to a Moroccan woman, or (c) enlisting me to obtain a visa to America, but on some days it seemed that way. I always assumed that such propositions were made in good faith, and I declined as politely as I could. And I confess, that when I was asked to describe life in America to my Moroccan friends, I never felt that I did a very adequate job. Moreover, the reality of life in America for a native-born American may be quite different than for a Moroccan immigrant.

One reason I found Paul Barrett's American Islam: The Struggle for the Soul of a Religion so fascinating is that it opened a little window into what life in America means for some Muslims. Particularly compelling I thought were portraits of former Black Muslim leader Siraj Wahhaj and Muslim scholar Khaled Abou El Fadl. The portrait of El Fadl, especially, limned a particularly humane and tolerant vision of Islam, one that made me eager to read some of El Fadl's work myself.

If there is a theme to Barrett's book, it is the contrast between a narrow traditionalism, propagated with Saudi Arabian money and espoused by many, but not all, immigrant Muslims, and a broader, more tolerant vision of Islam that comes to terms with secular American values, even if it does not always agree with them. Or course, in a book this rich, there are many additional tensions and contrasts, for example, those between Arabs and South Asians, those between African Americans and immigrants, and those between women and men. All in all, well worth reading for an insight into the contradictory lives of some Muslims in modern America.

(Disclaimer: I am an acquaintance of the author.)

British Council Morocco

When I was in Morocco, the British Council Bookstore was one of the few sources for books in English, particularly books for students of English. The books were good, but not cheap, and I used to lend them out to my students for a few days at a time. I wonder how much has changed.

Mathematics of Islamic Art

In Medieval Architecture, Signs of Advanced Math - New York Times

The New York Times reports that an article published in the journal science describes how certain medieval Islamic mosaic patterns made use of an advanced branch of mathematics known as quasi-crystals:

In the beauty and geometric complexity of tile mosaics on walls of medieval Islamic buildings, scientists have recognized patterns suggesting that the designers had made a conceptual breakthrough in mathematics beginning as early as the 13th century.

The tiles in the pattern can be rotated to form a pattern that is "infinitely big and yet the pattern never repeats itself, unlike the tiles on the typical floor." This branch of mathematics has only been understood by modern science within the past 30 years.

Thé à la Menthe: Lyrics in English

I owe the song Thé à la Menthe by Nikkfurie/La Caution a debt because I think it is coincidentally one of the main reasons that people come to visit my blog by the same name. Although the song apparently figured prominently in the movie Ocean's Twelve, it was unknown to me at the time I started blogging. It occurred to me that if I ever found the lyrics, the least I could do is try to return the favor by translating them into English. This proved to be a more difficult project than it first appeared, because the lyrics are full of obscure (to me) French street slang. Nevertheless, in the hope of inspiring a better translation, I have printed my effort below. Any comments that will render the sense more justly will be greatly appreciated. I would also like to acknowledge a debt to wordreference and wiktionary as well as my more conventional Harrap's and Petit Robert.

I have translated the original lyrics as follows:

NIKKFURIE:

Boy, I remember Mrs. Nicole
A teacher who thought a raghead wasn't made for school!
I wore ragged velour, and red boots made of plastic,
A wool jacket, a t-shirt or some "Play-Basket".
The barber didn't even know that I existed!
However young and innocent, the snot on our noses with no Kleenex,
we squatted in the sandbox with our "Buds" and our ideas,
born to vandalize without even knowing it!
Our parents didn't have so we erred without having!
According to our neighbors, blatant racists, to put it best,
we were badly raised and their German shepherds better dressed!
Me, I don't believe it, and I never did
because parental is the only love that I ever had!
Thus for not loving myself, what puts me on the mend:
The virtues of "Naanaa" or some tea with mint!

HI-TEKK:

First generation slum, clandestine environment in a bar in Barbès:
tea with mint, couscous and tagines a la carte.
More scopitones for Mouloud and Said Abdullah.
With a dirty accent, no "Peace to you" said Hassan the athlete
originally from Algiers, from Hollywood to Tamanrasset.
More tea with mint, just bitter words!
Like a mental illness, I have a headache, I cavort
in stan-smith adidas, 501 jeans, it's O.K., I'm stuck with them.
Here, there's the assault, for a dozen more, there will be blood in the air.
This France tears me apart: an Arab is classed as a bandy-legged barbarian!
Fuck the culture of barbecue, steak and fast food!
In the bled, it's djellaba and sandals, from Oujda to Casablanca,
it's banal at the bottom of the city, I'm pissed and I don't give a shit.
It slashes at the base of my home; my pain and my joy are mingled
and that's all that remains of our cultural heritage.

NIKKFURIE:

An adolescence "Nastase and 501, Pento, funk cassettes and Daron in 505".
But as soon as the the word "Problem" comes with a capital P,
in the face of which all the world trembles or deceives!
After innocence, pessimism takes root
before incandescence, the right road bends,
I took his hand and my happiness cramped me,
along the lines of "only money and honor can make me real!"
But here, one can accuse you of things that if you did them, you would hang!
They need an Arab, a black, what you will, in short something concrete!
One is lucky never to be taken seriously . . .
Approach vice without ever going over the edge.
Modeling our long life on the flight of an angel . .
In school, we, vultures, against the albatross of Baudelaire!
One finds oneself in rap despite every real expectation . . .
The recipe: Sampler, pen, and tea with mint!

Words that particularly puzzled me:

Play-Basket, se véner, la tess, le daron

Update: The laser dance in Ocean's Twelve, with the instrumental version of Thé à la Menthe.

Fishy

Ever wonder where your sardines come from?  View from Fez explains it all with a piece on Moroccan fisheries and their speculative future in the face of global warming and ocean cooling.

Harira

I had some of the best harira since I left Morocco today at the City Place Cafe at 17th and L, N.W. in Washington, D.C. The restaurant and sandwich shop, which is Moroccan owned, occasionally whips up a mean bowl of Fassi style harira, which I am told sells out in record time. One thing that was different for me was that the soup contained rice rather than soup noodles. It was so good, I bought two bowls for lunch, and only regretted that I did not have lemon, dates, and shebakya to go with it. (And yes, I know it is not Ramadan!)

Coffee! Cafe! Qahwa!

I don't drink much alcohol anymore. Coffee, though, is another matter. I start the weekday morning with a sizable cup (20 oz.) of drip coffee, sometimes with a little half and half, from the City Place Cafe (which is Moroccan owned and operated). At lunch, I usually go to Border's and sit down with a 12 oz. cup of black coffee and a book until my lunch hour is over. In the afternoon, I go over to the Caribou and pick up a small skim latte.

On the weekend, I usually just brew up a big pot of drip coffee, but if I am feeling a little energetic, I will make French press, a latte, a cappuccino, an espresso, or even Turkish coffee (yum!). That said, I do not really pretend to be a coffee connoisseur. However, for those who aspire to connoisseurship, the Washington Post today has a guide to "cupping" beans for taste, aroma, and freshness and a guide to the best brands in the Washington area.

Even though the United States has developed quite a coffee culture in the past twenty years, thanks in significant part to the sometimes reviled Starbucks, we still do not have the rich tradition of much of the rest of the world. For a hint of how cafe culture has matured in Morocco, see Laila Lalami's Café, Anyone?

No Jokes Please, We're Muslims

Le Monde.fr : Maroc: Diffusion interdite d'un hebdomadaire pour atteinte à l'islam

The Palace Crackdown

Le Monde reports that the Moroccan government has taken a step away from free speech by confiscating an issue of the magazine Nichane ("Straight") for having the temerity to print jokes about "religion, sex, and politics." Most particularly, the Palace deemed the publication to have launched an "attack against Islam" and to have published writings contrary to "public morale and morals." The royal prosecutor has launched an investigation into the publisher and the journalist Sanaa Al Aji.

The American Contrast

Regardless of what idiots like Newt Gingrich believe, the First Amendment is the essential linchpin of American Democracy. Central to the First Amendment are the ideas that the government will not restrict freedom of expression and that the government will not support one religion over another. Obviously, I have not seen the jokes in question, but even if they were of the most extreme and inflammatory sort, they could be published in America without prior restraint. (Even in this dark age, jokes in print are unlikely to be considered "incitement" outside of First Amendment protection.) In this sense, unlike so many others, alas, America is a beacon to the world, and Morocco will not be a true democracy until it adopts similar principles. After all that Islam has survived, it will survive a few jokes.

The Erosion of the American Example

Of course, in the Age of Bush, nothing is straightforward. Now that prosecutors are subpoenaing journalists in the Plame affair, threatening them with prosecution in the AIPAC scandal, and otherwise making noises about prosecuting journalists if they are in receipt of "state secrets, the bloom may be off the First Amendment rose even in America.

Beliefs in Common

Islam & Religious Tolerance

Those who believe (in the Quran) and those who follow the Jewish (scriptures) and the Christians and the Sabaeans, any who believe in Allah, and the Last Day, and work righteousness, shall have their reward with their Lord, on them shall be no fear, nor shall they grieve. T.Q., Sura 2 of 114, The Cow, verse 62.

Nadia Lamlili has a very thoughtful post (in French) discussing the underlying similarities of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam and the potential for tolerance among them. Overall, she concludes that there is more room for tolerance than the adherents of the three religions are normally willing to admit.

Priceless Legacy Fetches Big Bucks

Painting by Winston Churchill fetches 612,800 pounds (US$1.2 million; €906,000) at auction - Culture - International Herald Tribune

A painting of Tinherir by Winston Churchill, which he gave to General George Marshall, fetched an unexpectedly high price on the auction block.

The late British prime minister, a respected amateur artist, painted "View of Tinherir" in 1951 during one of his frequent trips to Marrakech in Morocco. In 1953 he gave it to Marshall as a symbol of Anglo-American solidarity.

Frankly, I am astonished that Marshall's heirs would have parted with such a priceless inheritance, and disappointed that they sold it to a private bidder rather than giving it to a museum. Greatness is not necessarily inherited, however.

I have always thought it remarkable that Churchill found a refuge in Marrakesh from his cares during and after the War.