Circular Thoughts on Niqab and Advertisement
Circular Thoughts on Niqab and Advertisement
We heard from multiple sources that the niqab, also known in some countries as the burqa, that all-concealing style of dress associated with Somalia, Saudi Arabia, and Afghanistan, was a relatively recent introduction to Morocco, only within the last fifteen years or so. The reasons for this are debatable. That time period has seen a religious awakening, but such dress had never been popular in Morocco (and still isn't). Certainly, women dressed modestly, wearing Berber headdresses or less stringent veils, and then the rise of the hijab in the late 70s, but something this complete was unheard of. We also heard that it had been popular in Marrakesh among a certain class of woman for much longer. Niqab makes it difficult to make clear a woman's identity, and so the prostitutes of Jama'a el Fna used it to dissociate their humanity from any neighbors who might see them in the square, and thus hide the shame of their "profession." Modesty conceptually necessitates the notion of exposure. The fig leaf requires the thought that there is no fig leaf. In this are aura and epistemology inextricably linked. Part of my thoughts here concern the irony of the prostitutes' cloth of choice, but they must also extend to their venue. Jama'a el Fna is ancient, and has been a place of bizarre uniqueness for its entire existence. Now, though, with tourists coming from abroad, and mechanization of everything related to the square's business, it is economically (at least in the traditional sense of the pre-tourist/pre-service economy) obsolete, and socially losing its importance to "real" Marrakshi culture, which can certainly also be said to rely on it. Of course Morocco has modern dentistry and those gaudy false teeth are no longer needed; of course much of what is sold is foreign-made, but the changes run deeper. To quote one of our lecturers, it "deteriorated from a culture of minds to a culture of stomachs." The square was once rife with bookstores, but now it is all food and touristy junk. Yet still with this entropy that contradictorily accompanies progress, Jama'a el Fna is raised up as the exotic jewel of not just Marrakesh, but now broadcast abroad.
A huge part of the problem, if we can even say there is a problem, is that thin and elusive line between kitsch and authenticity. At what point is preserving Jama'a el Fna in a way accessible to tourists only destroying whatever cultural value it once had? How can one merge the art of conservation with the science of marketing?
This unrepresentative promotion extends beyond just Jama'a el Fna. Erg Chebbi is about as representative of Morocco as handing a foreigner a brochure on Hawaii and saying "This is America." Yet why do so many Americans immediately associate Morocco with desert and dunes, if any association comes to mind at all? Certainly, deserts comprise much of the Arab world, but Morocco is closer geographically to London than to Mecca. Fortunately or unfortunately, due to the divide of the Atlantic Ocean, we are not as inundated as Europeans with Moroccan tourism ads showing a land of sand and camels, but that image still manages to reach Americans.
It is often said about Moroccan houses that they are symbolic of nearly everything in the culture: the jewel hides within. Unmemorable exteriors belie whatever sumptuous environs linger within. While I am not at all suggesting one look for a prostitute's "inner treasure," I must implore people to (and extend this example to everything, not just tourism ads) dig beneath the facade of selected imagery and find out both what is not being shown, and why what is being shown was chosen. Your answers will give you infinitely more than just accepting the pretty picture on the postcard.