Three books I have been reading lately chronicle grim pasts and suggest possible futures for the African continent, of which Morocco is a key part.
In addition to Assia Djebar's The Tongue's Blood Does Not Run Dry and Ishmael Beah's A Long Way Gone, I have also been reading Thomas L Friedman's The World Is Flat. It is hard to believe that all three authors are living on the same planet.
Djebar, in series of short stories, chronicles decades of French on Algerian, Algerian on Algerian, and Algerian on French violence, much of it directed against women and chidren. Beah recounts his years as a child soldier in the Sierra Leone army in a brutal tale of close range killing after killing after killing. These blood soaked memoirs, recounting a level and scale of violence and brutality not seen on the North American continent since 1865, paint a macabre picture of societies so torn by violence and suspicion that a restoration of some sort of normal life seems utterly remote.
In contrast, Friedman comes from another world. He paints a picture of "globalization" in which increased efficiencies in communication and distribution of goods, and a resulting greater dispersion of knowledge, allow hitherto excluded countries such as China and India to tap into global prosperity and compete on an equal footing with Europe and America. While acknowledging that the free ride of American economic and technological dominance is drawing to a close, Friedman argues that more equal competition and greater global prosperity will also benefit America, so long as America retains an openness to innovation and a will to compete. Friedman argues that it will still be possible for America to compete in the brave new world of globalization, but he also sees ominous signs that present day America is not really prepared to do so.
Friedman's showcase example of the future of globalization is Bangalore, India, which he paints as a high tech oasis providing modern services to the North American continent in areas as diverse as computer game development, tax preparation, and even overnight X-ray diagnosis by highly trained Indian doctors. Friedman points to a combination of high speed information and computerization with low Indian wages and a cadre of highly trained, English-speaking professionals forged in the crucible of India's fiercely competitive Indian Institutes of Technology. Friedman sees this cadre of highly educated Indians as an essential resource not only for the development of the Indian subcontinent but also for the continuing technological advancement of the United States. The key question for Friedman, however, is whether Bangalore's island of prosperity in a sea of Indian poverty can share the wealth fast enough to prevent political instability. The price of the failure to share wealth, power, and opportunity is illustrated vividly by the examples of Algeria and Sierra Leone, as Friedman recognizes when he concedes that there is no greater threat to his program for world prosperity than the existence of violent, failed states cut off from the general rise in education and prosperity.
As I hear reports of the real estate boom in Marrakesh and the investment projects of H.M. Mohammed VI, I am tempted to wonder whether Marrakesh is headed in the direction of Bangalore or the direction of Freetown. As a comparative model of stability and moderation in the region, Morocco appears to have bright prospects. Indeed, Friedman explicitly argues that is the Arab countries that have been obliged to develop their people rather than their oil that will most likely enjoy the brightest long term future. At the same time, it would also appear that Morocco must capitalize on its current prosperity by investing in the education of its population and leveraging its currently underutilized educated population at a level that will allow it to compete on the world stage.