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Women, the State, and Political Liberalization: Middle Eastern and North African Experiences
Laurie A. Brand
1998
1. In the Realm of the Commander of the Faithful
Since independence, Morocco has experienced numerous cycles of managed political openings followed by varying degrees of return to repression. As a result, when asked when the most recent liberalization had begun, interviewees for this study suggested a number of starting points. Most traced the beginnings of greater freedom of expression to 1987–88. Others, while not disputing this assessment, nonetheless noted that since 1991 much more progress had been made. However, a few contended that the liberalization could be dated to as early as the mid–1970s. The gradual unfolding of the liberalization will be covered in more detail below. First, however, to set the stage, we turn to a brief, general discussion of the Moroccan political system and economy.
The Moroccan Political System
Morocco’s political system is that of a monarchy in which the king both reigns and rules. Although the country has had a parliament since independence, the body has been dominated by conservative, pro&-;regime parties (in part due to less than free elections over the years) loathe to challenge the status quo. The kingdom does have a long history of opposition party and trade union activity, but most discussions of the Moroccan political system place King Hassan center stage. The contention here is not that an examination of the king can explain all, but that the system is not comprehensible without a discussion of him and his role. “Power is centralized in the monarchy, which sits atop a national political machine. Political parties and unions have little influence in their own right. Rather, they structure interaction among a fragmented elite, most of which benefits from established patterns of machine politics.” 1
There have been a number of key elements in the king’s governing formula. One is the role of religion. In the constitution of 1962, the king took for himself the title of amir al–mu‘minin, commander of the faithful. In so doing, he appropriated responsibility for guiding and pronouncing on matters related to religion. Hassan’s claim to have descended from the Prophet Muhammad and his own educational background (law), underscore and, in the eyes of some, reinforce this role. The state apparatus and its attendant patron–client relations, called the makhzen, have in turn been supported by the ulama (religious scholars), thus further strengthening the conservative nature of the political and social system.
Another key element has been coercion. Morocco has long been the subject of criticism from abroad for its flagrant human rights violations: political abductions and murders; disappearances; torture; arrests and detention for political reasons; deplorable prison conditions; and heavy censorship. In addition, of course, periodic outbreaks of violence, whether led by students, labor unionists, or the disenfranchised of the bidonvilles, belie the contention of regime stability’s deriving from the king’s religious legitimacy. 2 Also present in the governing formula is what some have described as the complicity of the political parties and the intellectuals. L’Opinion editor Khalid Jamai stated quite frankly, “the system continues to work because of our complicity and cynicism.” 3 People are afraid to challenge the king, afraid of what might come after him. So they work within the corrupt framework of the “known” out of resignation or out of fear of the unknown.
The Moroccan Economy
Over the past decade and a half the Moroccan economy has been shaped by two major developments: the changes in policy dictated by the imposition of a structural adjustment program and the kingdom’s attempts to develop closer ties with the EU. As a group, the EU states account for 40 percent of the kingdom’s imports and 50 percent of its exports, and France and Spain are Morocco’s two most important trading partners. 4 Hassan has therefore long been interested in expanding trade ties with the EU and in July 1987 applied for full membership. Yet the door to full membership has remained closed. The primary justification has been that Morocco is not a democracy, although the fact that Morocco produces many of the same goods for export as do Portugal, Spain, and Greece has no doubt also been significant as a barrier. Nevertheless, in the meantime, the country has been involved in a variety of negotiations to secure closer economic cooperation with a number of EU member states. The large number of Moroccan expatriates living and working in Europe (and remitting more than $2 billion annually in the last few years) as well as the importance of tourism receipts, a substantial portion of which is from Europeans, (between $1 and $2 billion since 1993) have given the kingdom’s ties with Europe even greater importance. 5
The evolving Moroccan–European relationship must be viewed in the context of the unfolding of economic crisis in the kingdom. Periods of drought in the 1980s and early 1990s have gradually undermined the productivity of agriculture, a sector that continues to employ more than 40 percent of the population. In addition, the drop in the world price of phosphates (of which Morocco is the third largest producer and the largest exporter in the world) in the 1980s severely affected the country’s foreign currency reserves. Finally, the war in the Western Sahara, discussed below, which has reportedly cost the country $1 million a day since it was launched in 1975, has been a serious hardship.
As early as 1983, growing external debt in the face of insufficient revenues to service it forced Morocco to seek the assistance of the IMF to reschedule its debt. By 1988 the implementation of reforms led foreign investors to be optimistic, particularly because of new, high growth rates and because of the advantages the kingdom offered as a relocation zone for western industries. 6 However, by 1990, European financial institutions were growing wary of the country’s continuingly high debt level and the decline in its foreign exchange holdings. In addition, of course, was the ongoing uncertainty about the Western Sahara as well as the appearance of Eastern European countries as potentially interesting alternative investment outlets. 7
Despite more than a decade of experience with structural adjustment (and Morocco is generally cited as a success story, at least among Middle East/North Africa countries), external debt servicing continues to take a substantial portion of state revenues, and indeed, the debt has continued to grow. There is no question that one finds in Casablanca and Rabat ample evidence that a slice of Moroccan society has enjoyed tremendous economic success. Unfortunately, they are but a tiny fraction of the population. The rural areas have been devastated by years of drought and inadequate state response, and the manufacturing sector remains fragile, subject to the impact of the international market as well as the whim of investors seeking quick profits. The cost of the ongoing structural adjustment continues to be paid by some of the poorest and least empowered sectors of Moroccan society. As a result, however, the specter of a sharp increase in immigration owing to deteriorating economic conditions has helped to maintain European interest in developing its trade and aid agreements with the kingdom. 8
The Role of External Factors
Several external factors have had a major impact on Moroccan domestic politics during this period. The first is its longest–standing unresolved foreign policy issue: the dispute over the Western Sahara. In 1974, when Spain announced its intention to end its colonial presence there, Hassan advanced a claim to the region, and a national consensus developed—even among opposition parties—regarding the “Moroccanness” of the Western Sahara. For those who dissented there were two choices: silence or jail, for no open opposition was tolerated. The most direct impact of this conflict has been on priorities in government spending, in this case in favor of the military. Indirectly, however, the national consensus promoted during this period served to obscure or distract attention from many serious domestic problems, and has been a major source of stagnation in the political system.
Relations with Algeria also figure centrally, both in considerations of the Western Sahara as well as in certain questions of domestic policy. For years, Algeria was the main regional protagonist opposing Morocco’s claims to the Western Sahara and provided material and diplomatic support to the Polisario. Even in the realm of political liberalization, the kingdom has been quite concerned with developments in its neighbor’s domestic politics, especially the unfolding of Algeria’s own political opening and the subsequent descent into civil war. In this regard, the role of Islamists domestically is of direct relevance. While the king has long kept Islamists under at least close surveillance, events in Algeria since 1988 have given the regime further impetus to monitor Islamist activity. In such a climate, official discourse has stressed the kingdom’s Islamic heritage, but emphasized that Morocco’s is a tolerant Islam and that no individual or group has a monopoly on the interpretation of religion. It seems likely that at least part of the impetus behind Hassan’s proposal of constitutional reforms in March 1992, to be discussed below, derived from events in Algeria.
Also relevant to Moroccan–Algerian relations is the role that the Berber question plays in the domestic politics of the two countries. A prominent Moroccan Berber activist in fact traced the revival of a Berber movement in Morocco to developments in Algeria in 1980, the Printemps Kabyle, which led to a popular mobilization there. One of the most interesting products of the political liberalization in Morocco has been the flowering of organizations related to reviving and preserving Berber language and culture. 9 Given the role of the Berbers in resisting the FIS (Front Islamique de Salut) in Algeria and the anti–Islamist (and at times subtly anti–Islamic) content to some Berber discourse in Morocco, the king, if necessary, could use the evolving Berber movement as a way of curbing the growth of Islamist influence in the country.
Finally, on the level of Moroccan–European or Moroccan–U.S. relations, there is the question of human rights, an area in which Hassan has introduced some important changes. A first step came with the licensing of the Organisation Marocaine des Droits de l’Homme (OMDH) in December 1988, on the fortieth anniversary of the publication of the Universal Declaration on Human Rights. A state–sponsored Council on Human Rights was founded in May 1990, followed by a Ministry of Human Rights in 1993. Both developments are, without question, a part of Hassan’s drive for greater respectability in Europe and for inclusion in the EU.
The Cycles of Political Liberalization
Following a coup attempt in 1971, Hassan dissolved the parliament and responded with further repression when student and other dissent followed. However, in 1974, he initiated what may be called a populist policy which, on the economic front, involved nationalizing certain foreign businesses and property and demanding expanded fishing rights in coastal waters. On the political front, he proclaimed the country’s intention to reintegrate the Western Sahara. A year later, not only did he lead the famous Green March of 350,000 Moroccan civilians into the disputed territory, but he also announced his intention to restore democracy. Political prisoners were released, press censorship was eased, and political parties were reinvigorated. Provincial elections were held in 1976 and parliamentary elections in 1977. There were no stunning victories for the opposition, but neither did they complain about the conduct of the elections. 10
Nonetheless, a series of events led to rising popular discontent and a retreat from this opening: the increasing economic burden caused by the Western Sahara conflict; severe drought; and a drop in the world price of phosphates. Unemployment in the early 1980s was estimated at 30 to 40 percent, and income disparities were wide and growing. Major riots broke out in Casablanca in 1981 in which some 200 youths were killed. When the king postponed parliamentary elections scheduled for 1981, events seemed to have come full circle, as observers were reminded of the clampdown following the 1971 coup attempt. 11
In 1983, Hassan again postponed parliamentary elections, following another failed coup attempt. Municipal and rural council elections were held, but the serious violations that reportedly characterized them further alienated the public. January 1984 then brought a new round of rioting. Originating in Marrakesh, the disturbances spread among students to Agadir, Safi, and Kasbah–Tadla in the south, Rabat and Meknes in the center, and then on to five cities in the north. Some 150 people were killed in the riots and in their wake between 1,500 and 2,000 people were jailed in a wave of arrests.
The king initially made no concessions; indeed, he responded by threatening the country with further repression. However, shortly thereafter, he resorted to his populist formula again, initiating a union with Libya and allowing elections, which were not marred by excessive interference, to take place. This revival of parliamentary elections marks the beginning of the most recent phase of liberalization which continues, with fits and starts, to the present. It is here then, in the mid–1980s, that this study begins. While the gradual liberalization process that began in the mid–1980s may have had its roots in some of the same pressures and concerns that spurred the king to open the system in 1975, the factors that have shaped it are different or of a different magnitude. Of particular significance has been the role of external factors: the economic demands of structural adjustment and Morocco’s attempts to gain greater access to the EU; and the broader international trend of transitions from authoritarian rule in an atmosphere that has increasingly stressed respect for civil and human rights.
Several themes characterize this most recent Moroccan liberalization: human rights; administrative decentralization; the development of associational life; and the continuing stagnation of politics on the national level.
The beginning of the emphasis on human rights during this period may be traced to discussions of political prisoners, especially those arrested during the riots of January 1984. Far from willing to retreat, 12 in July the regime launched a new wave of arrests, this time against Islamists, a group called al–Shabibah al–Islamiyyah, which had affirmed its intent to overthrow the monarchy. But the concern with human rights among Moroccans, as well as the daring of several groups to take on the issue, continued in 1986, as the opposition press reported the arrests of extreme leftists and Islamists and denounced them in measured terms. The major opposition parties—the PI (Parti Istiqlalien), USFP (Union Socialiste des Forces Populaires) and PPS (Parti du Progrès et du Socialisme, formerly the Moroccan Communist Party)—all decided to focus on the issue of political prisoners and launched a campaign denouncing torture and calling for the reclassification of some sixty prisoners as political detainees. 13
The domestic human rights situation then began to have increasingly clear implications for the kingdom’s foreign policy. In 1985, Hassan had begun arguing that Morocco should be admitted to the European Community as an appropriate and logical extension of the community’s South Mediterranean policy. The kingdom formally applied in July 1987, but was told that the Treaty of Rome stipulated that members were to be both European and full democracies. 14 In February 1988 the European parliament delivered an additional blow by condemning the arbitrary detention of political prisoners and the use of torture. 15 It kept up its pressure in December by urging Hassan to abolish the death penalty and to improve conditions in Moroccan jails. 16
It was not that Morocco was a stranger to human rights groups: an organization associated with the PI, the Ligue Marocaine des Droits de l’Homme (LMDH) had been established in 1972, and a group that had broken away from the USFP, the Association Marocaine des Droits de l’Homme (AMDF) was founded in 1979. But the LMDH was not particularly active, and many of the more active AMDH’s people were leftists and old–time Marxists who were eventually jailed, thus leading to the freezing of AMDH activity. By 1986, a number of people interested in human rights had begun to meet to discuss the need for a new group, but the fight to maintain independence from political parties (particularly the USFP) led the preparatory work to drag on for two years. In 1987 the group finally decided formally to establish itself and requested permission from the authorities to hold a meeting. Permission was granted, but the morning of the meeting (May 29, 1988) the police intervened, saying that while the meeting had not been forbidden, neither would it be allowed to take place.
At that point, pressures began to be brought to bear from both inside and outside the kingdom. Finally, at the end of November, the OMDH was given permission to hold a constitutive meeting on December 10, 1988, coinciding with the fortieth anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. The negotiations with the state continued, as the authorities objected to the fact that some of the OMDH leadership had “political pasts.” Some changes were made, but the state again attacked the organization by trying to intimidate those without political pasts regarding working with those who had been activists. 17
In February 1990, a new Amnesty International report charged the government with maltreatment (including torture until death) of prisoners in police custody. These charges were particularly damaging because they came less than a week after the government had given an Amnesty delegation permission to visit the kingdom and meet with Hassan and senior ministers. The publication of the Amnesty report also followed the king’s being pressed on the subject of human rights on French television and coincided with the publication (as urged by the Bar Association) by a group of Moroccan associations of a National Charter on Human Rights. 18 Certainly not by coincidence, in May 1990 Hassan established a Human Rights Consultative Council. Officially, the role of the Council members is to inform the king regarding existing cases and to check into conditions in the prisons so that justice can be rendered to all. Although this move, which is but one example of the state’s attempting to coopt opposition themes, did temporarily diffuse some pressures, it did not completely satisfy the international community nor the local human rights organizations. 19 The uproar was renewed following the publication in late summer 1990 of Notre Ami Le Roi, 20 which made public and broadly available for the first time a cataloguing of many of the regime’s most notorious human rights abuses.
In March 1993, just before the parliamentary elections, the Consultative Council on Human Rights acknowledged that there were areas of grave human rights concern in the kingdom. The council had come under criticism, most recently in the annual U.S. State Department Human Rights report, which charged it with being increasingly manipulated by the government. In April, Amnesty International released a new, damning report on the illegal detention of suspects by the security police. 21 Shortly thereafter, the government finally responded to domestic and international pressure to improve human rights by ratifying several international human rights conventions.
Turning to the role of decentralization in the liberalization, in the mid–1980s, the state began to establish regional associations, 22 the announced objective of which was the sociocultural development of their respective regions. The official rationale was that local elites could play a role in improving the efficiency of administrative services by working with the central and local governmental departments involved in the administration of cities. Through their structures and functions, these organizations give local urban elites direct access to centers of power as well as considerable authority in mediating and establishing patron–client relations. They also serve as channels for elite interest aggregation. As such, they compete with the existing parties (and have been denounced by them), but they also have the potential of making the makhzen, dominated by rural actors, very uncomfortable. 23 In a related move, communal electoral districts were redrawn by a national commission headed by Driss Basri, minister of the interior and right–hand man to the king. The new plan, which almost doubled the number of communes (from 859 to 1559), was expected both to enlarge and to renew the local political elites. 24
As for developments within civil society, beginning in the mid–1980s the country witnessed a dramatic increase in the establishment of a variety of organizations. Some worked in traditional development fields, focusing on health and rural conditions, while others moved into less traditional areas such as the creation of small businesses and the further integration of women into the work force. In addition, however, were new associations with political goals, a departure for Morocco, where poltiical parties had long monopolized the field. The OMDH’s establishment was discussed above as was the emergence of a number of Berber cultural organizations. A number of women’s groups working specifically for changes in the law to make women more fully citizen have also been established. 25 Even taking into account the weakness of some of these groups and the degree to which the state still circumscribes activities, the expansion of associative life in Morocco has been quite remarkable. 26
Unfortunately, however, the flurry of activity in the associative realm has not been matched by developments at the national governmental level. Following the parliamentary elections of 1984, the opposition parties began to discuss the idea of constructing a national front, with the hope of reasserting themselves in the elections scheduled for 1988. At this point, however, the monarchy was still quite skeptical about the idea of opposition, especially since the parties were more or less clear in their dissatisfaction with the ideological bases of the regime as well as with the principal figures responsible for running the country. The elections were ultimately postponed, with the lack of resolution of the Sahara issue cited as the offical reason for the delay.
A dramatic example of growing feelings of frustration came in the spring of 1990, when a new finance law, further cutting state investment and devolving responsibilities for health, education, and infrastructure to the localities, elicited strong criticism from both sides of the aisle. The law led the four major opposition parties to form an alliance on May 14 for only the second time in the history of the Moroccan parliament to raise a censure motion against the government. This was followed by long, impassioned debates, both televised and widely discussed in the press. The motion was ultimately rejected 200 to 82, but the message was clear. 27 Nonetheless, the only real flexibility the regime seemed show at this stage was on the issue of the timing of the next elections, as the king called for yet another referendum to extend the parliamentary term for two more years. Again, the argument was related to developments in the Sahara. The king did not want elections to be held unless the Sahrawis participated, and that required the holding of a referendum in the contested territory itself; any other formula for holding elections would have appeared to be accepting less than full Moroccan sovereignty over the area. The referendum on the postponement passed with a reported 98.83% participation, and with 99.98% voting yes. 28 After that, however, no more extensions of the parliamentary were possible under the constitution. Frustrations with the political stagnation grew.
The Gulf Crisis and War
As the Gulf War approached, tensions were running high domestically. In mid–December 1990 demonstrations and rioting broke out in Fez during a general strike. The violence then spread to Tangiers, Kenitra, and Meknes. By the end of the second day of rioting, shops, banks, factories, and state buildings had been torched, and light tanks had been deployed throughout the riot–affected areas. While the events began as a trade union affair, the proportions they assumed and the violence they involved revealed dissatisfaction that went well beyond the unions. 29 Because of these disturbances, consultations were opened among the government, the unions, and management, the first such discussions in recent Moroccan history.
Aside from these disturbances, popular ferment at the time was largely manifested in the form of support for Iraq. Hassan was in a difficult position, not only because of his close relations with Saudi Arabia, but also because of the participation of Moroccan troops in the anti–Iraq coalition. The opposition was calling for the troops to be brought home, but their presence in Saudi Arabia was the best guarantor of continued sorely needed Saudi largesse. The pressures were so strong that in early February, Hassan was forced to allow an opposition party–organized pro–Iraq demonstration in Rabat which drew some 300,000 people from across the kingdom. Although Moroccan troop participation in the anti–Iraq coalition was heavily criticized during the demonstration, the king forbade any future calls for troop repatriation because of the harm he claimed it would do to army morale. He made clear that the decision to send troops was part of his royal prerogative, which could not be defied, and thereby placed the issue beyond criticism. 30
Participation in the coalition enabled the kingdom to maintain its support from the Gulf states, while the limited nature of the involvement limited the domestic damage. Yet, the Gulf War was a major watershed, in large part because of the popular emotion it had elicited and the mobilization, if fleeting, it had triggered. The crisis and war did cause a temporary decline in the importance of domestic cleavages in favor of the horizontal solidary triggered by the invoking of Arabism. However, there were especially urgent socioeconomic problems that needed to be confronted: growing poverty, unemployment, an overburdened educational system, and outmoded legislation in a variety of areas. Hassan evidently did begin to feel that in order to ensure Western financial support he needed to demonstrate flexibility on human rights and opposition demands for reform. As noted above, 1991 was marked by numerous state human rights initiatives, and discussions of human rights and democratization came increasingly to dominate political debates. 31
In mid–November 1991, the two largest opposition parties, the PI and USFP, looking toward the parliamentary elections scheduled for 1992, announced their intention to form a common front. The 1990 censure motion episode had affirmed the opposition parties’ belief that they could in fact work together. Just as important, it led the king to consult with the opposition regarding possible revisions of the constitution. The PI had frequently noted the need for such revisions, arguing that it was not possible to establish a real democracy under the existing document. 32
The pressures for change grew, while the state’s ability (willingness) to resort to traditional levels of repression to enforce the “consensus” was compromised by increased human rights monitoring and criticism from abroad. The result was a political opening in the form of greater freedom of political expression and more respect for human rights. 33 At the same time, however, the rise of the FIS and the January 1992 coup in Algeria likely also had an impact, and on January 31, 1992, Hassan finally announced his intention to reform the constitution. The decision was widely welcomed: legislative elections were due before October 9, so that a new parliament would be in place for the fall session. The king promised that the changes would lead to a better balance between the legislative and executive powers and would guarantee more justice and more efficiency in the authorities’ exercise of power. 34
The king then met with representatives of the opposition parties and included them in a commission of arbitrage, over which he presided, aimed at proposing electoral reforms. Despite their participation, the opposition remained skeptical of the government’s motives, although they were assured that the goal was a system which would bring about an eventual rotation of power—alternance—between the opposition and the royalist parties. 35 Then, without warning, a trade union problem intervened to threaten the unfolding cooperation. Noubir Amaoui, an outspoken member of the USFP–associated Conféderation Democratique de Travail (CDT), gave two interviews within a three–week period in which he directly criticized the monarchy and the regime. He was arrested, tried, and despite support from political parties, unions, and lawyers, was sentenced to two years in prison on April 17. 36
In part in response to the ‘Amaoui affair, the opposition parties refused to participate further in discussions of the electoral law and demanded an independent national commission to organize the elections and oversee their honesty. Hassan refused this, although he realized how important it was not to trigger an opposition party boycott of the elections. On April 29 he announced the creation of two commissions including heads of the political parties: one to examine the electoral laws and the other to look into electoral procedures. The opposition parties presented a list of nineteen points as the basis of their discussions within these two committees. The evolving political party cooperation led on May 18 to the announcement by the PI, USFP, PPS, and l’Organisation de l’Action Démocratique Populaire (OADP), backed by a strong trade union front, of a formalization of their coordination on constitutional and electoral reforms in the framework of a kutlah wataniyyah, or national bloc.
As for the kutlah’s electoral law proposals, the king easily conceded some points while others were more problematic. Hassan had made clear that democracy would come in small doses and that the primary role of the monarchy would be preserved. 37 Indeed, after nearly a month of opposition party clashes with the government over the electoral law, by late May Hassan had turned down a number of their requests: a reduction of the voting age from 21 to 18; the lowering of the minimum age of candidates to 21; and the institution of proportional representation rather than the “first past the post” system. As a result of the king’s rejection of their proposals and of the fact that they continued to have only marginal input into the work on constitutional reforms, these parties’ MPs boycotted the June 1 parliamentary vote on the government’s offer. Ultimately, the opposition parties also decided to withdraw from the national commission set up to prepare for and supervise the voting, a move that led to the postponement of parliamentary elections until April 1993 and then June 1993, thus leaving the country without a functioning parliament for more than a year.
In the meantime, in mid–August the king’s proposed constitutional changes were announced. The principal proposal was that the prime minister (rather than the king) would henceforth choose cabinet ministers, who would then have to be approved by the king. The king retained the power to dissolve parliament, but thereafter the declaration of a state of emergency would no longer automatically involve the dissolution of the legislature. Future governments were required to reflect the balance of forces in the parliament and to submit their programs to a confidence vote. The king rejected opposition proposals that all parliamentary representatives be directly elected; a third of the assembly would continue to be drawn from other sources. New laws were to be promulgated a month after being passed by parliament, with royal approval being automatic (rather than requring a signature). A new constitutional council was to be set up whose function was in part to issue binding interpretations of the constitution. Its chairman and four members were to be appointed by the king, with four members nominated by the speaker of the Chamber of Representatives. Finally, the preamble to the revised constitution placed greater emphasis on human rights. 38
These proposals fell far short of what the opposition had wanted, and a number of splits developed in the kutlah. There was fighting within parties, with the leadership in some cases recommending acceptance of the constitutional changes because they were in the right direction, but with the PI and USFP memberships outraged (some because of the Amaoui jailing). 39 The major split, however, came when the PPS departed from its kutlah partners, who had decided to boycott the September 4 constitutional referendum, and called for participation with a “yes” vote. The king was furious at the possibility of a boycott by the opposition and, seeking the largest turnout possible, devoted a good portion of an August 20 speech to women and their ongoing drive to change the personal status law (see next two chapters), hoping to mobilize them to participate in the referendum. The outcome of the referendum (a reported 99% in favor) left the regime open to charges of massive fraud, and the palace was outraged. The opposition parties’ boycott was viewed as worse than a “no” vote, because they had failed to play the king’s political game. 40
Municipal elections were held only a month later, and the opposition parties, which, with the exception of the OADP did participate, complained again of fraud and corruption. The three largest opposition parties won just 20 percent of the vote. One of the most interesting developments in these elections, however, was the large number of SAP candidates (sans appartenance politique—independents) who won. Such an outcome, in a political system in which political parties have traditionally been the only channels through which the regime has been willing to deal with interest articulation, suggests a malaise in the system or a dissatisfaction with representatives of existing political parties. 41
The long–awaited parliamentary elections were finally held on June 23, 1993. Given the charges that the September 1992 constitutional referendum had been rigged and that the municipal vote a month later was marred by corruption, Hassan was under some pressure to deliver clean(er) elections. While there were charges of vote buying and bribery, in general, reports indicated less corruption in this round. Moreover, two women reached parliament for the first time: one from the PI, one from the USFP. The results were actually quite positive for the four–party opposition: 99 of 222 elected seats. However, with the remaining 111 seats decided by local electoral colleges which tend to be skewed in a royalist direction, in the end, the opposition held only 120 of 333 seats.
Discussions then began regarding opposition participation in the cabinet. Hassan appointed a transition cabinet in mid–November while continuing his negotiations with the opposition parties. The negotiations were rocky, and the palace was upset by its inability to provide even a semblance of wider participation by integrating kutlah members into the cabinet. The king offered nineteen minor portfolios, but made clear that he would appoint the ministers of finance, foreign affairs, interior, and justice, arguing that the opposition was too inexperienced to be given the positions they were requesting. Much of the tug–of–war resulted from the opposition’s desire to oust the powerful Driss Basri from his post as minister of the interior, and the king was simply unwilling to remove his right–hand man and confidant. The one interesting development among the cabinet appointments was the creation of a new post, minister for human rights, filled by Omar Azziman, a founding member of the OMDH. 42
Not until late March 1995, following a year and half of negotiations, did Hassan finally appoint a new government. Since the opposition—unwilling to be implicated in legitimizing a power structure in which they had no effective input—had continued to reject the terms of inclusion offered by the king, the new cabinet comprised largely loyal conservatives and technocrats, but no kutlah members. 43 Basri remained at interior but was stripped of the communications portfolio, which had been his since November 1985. Hence, Hassan’s first attempt at establishing the bases of his highly touted alternance had failed.
Observers argue that the system cannot continue as it is, that the makhzenian system of governance will eventually be unable to cope with the growing demands of governing an increasingly complex economy and polity. Such predictions seem all the more credible as rumors swirl about the king’s ill–health and about the crown prince’s insufficient preparation for (and perhaps lack of interest in) taking over his father’s duties. In September 1996, a referendum was held that approved the establishment of a bicameral legislative body to replace the unicameral parliament, only two–thirds of whose members had been elected by direct suffrage. This change satisfied one of the longstanding demands of the Moroccan opposition and appeared to move the kingdom one step closer to the alternance Hassan indicated he sought. All the more the opposition’s dismay, then, when the official results of the parliamentary elections of November 1997 gave the four–party (PI, USFP, PPS, OADP) kutlah only 102 of 325 seats, once again rendering the centrist and rightist parties of the regime the majority. Allegations of fraud and other irregularities also marred what was supposed to be a turning point in the role of the opposition parties in governance. Nonetheless, the king followed through with his commitment to alternance and on February 4, 1998 tapped USFP leader Abderrahmane Youssoufi to assume the prime ministership and form a government. Negotiations among the various people took more than a month, but the king did not waver in his support for Youssoufi, and on March 14, the first cabinet of alternance was announced, with 22 of 41 ministers from the kutlah, including two women of the USFP.
Conclusions
The liberalization in Morocco has unfolded in response to a number of developments. On the domestic side have been the growing pressures for modification of a political system less and less capable of dealing with the demands of an increasingly large and complex society and economy. Such demands have no doubt been strongly influenced by the negative impact of structural adjustment on broad sectors of the kingdom’s population. At the same time, however, several external factors have helped to encourage and shape the development of greater freedom of expression and the expansion of the associative movement. One of the most important has been the reinforcement by external actors (state and NGO) of domestic demands for greater respect for human rights. These actors have made clear to the king the possible negative ramifications in the realm of economic aid and economic relations with Europe of continuing disregard for evolving international norms regarding civil and human rights. Another has been regional developments, most importantly, the rise of the FIS in Algeria and the country’s subsequent descent into civil war. Algeria’s experience heightened the need to end the political stagnation. It also led the regime to continue to proclaim the importance of the country’s Islamic values, while at the same time placing substantial restrictions on Islamist organizing and expression. It is in the context of the developing freedom of expression as well as the internal and external pressures mentioned above that a consideration of women’s relations with the state during the period of liberalization must be placed.
Endnotes
Note 1: Mark Tessler, “The Uses and Limits of Populism: The Political Strategy of King Hassan II of Morocco,” Middle East Review (Spring 1985): 47. Back.
Note 2: Henry Munson, Religion and Power in Morocco (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993), especially chapters 5–7. See also the annual reports of Amnesty International. Back.
Note 3: Interview with Khalid Jamai, editor of the PI’s French–language daily, L’Opinion, in Rabat, June 30, 1995. Back.
Note 4: Annuaire de l’Afrique du Nord (hereafter, AAN), 1986 (Paris: CNRS, 1986). Back.
Note 5: Middle East International (hereafter, MEI), August 28, 1993. Back.
Note 6: AAN 1986, p. 743. Back.
Note 7: MEI, January 7, 1994. Back.
Note 8: See “Political Economy Review of Morocco,” unpublished draft submitted to Chemonics, International, June 1992, pp. 8–9. It states that in 1979, 45% of the rural population alone (11.8 million at the time) was living in absolute poverty. Back.
Note 9: Interview with Lahcen Oulhadj, editor of the Berber journal Tifawt, in Rabat, August 4, 1995. Back.
Note 10: Tessler, “Uses and Limits of Populism,” p. 44. Back.
Note 12: AAN 1985, p. 650. Back.
Note 13: AAN 1986, pp. 754–55. Back.
Note 14: MEI, July 25, 1987. Back.
Note 15: EIU, no. 2, 1988, p. 7. Back.
Note 16: EIU, no.1, 1989, p. 11. Back.
Note 17: Interview with ‘Abd al–‘Aziz Bennani, head of the OMDH, in Rabat, July 5, 1995. Back.
Note 18: MEI, March 2, 1990. Back.
Note 19: AAN 1990, pp. 717–18. Back.
Note 20: Gilles Perault, Notre Ami le Roi (Paris: Gallimard, 1990). Back.
Note 21: Amnesty International, Morocco: Breaking the Wall of Silence: The Disappeared in Morocco (New York: Amnesty, 1993). Back.
Note 22: AAN 1986, p. 764. Headed by personalities close to the king or ministers, by 1988 these associations could be found in almost all large Moroccan cities. Back.
Note 23: AAN 1988, pp. 685–86. Back.
Note 24: AAN 1989, pp. 618–19. Back.
Note 25: The next two chapters carry full details on these changes. Back.
Note 26: Guilain Denoeux and Laurent Gateau, “L’Essor des Associations au Maroc: à la Recherche de la Citoyenneté?” Maghreb–Machrek, no. 150 (Oct.–Dec. 1995): 19–39. Back.
Note 27: AAN 1990, p. 721. Back.
Note 28: AAN 1989, p. 620. Back.
Note 29: MEI, December 21, 1990. Back.
Note 30: MEI, February 8, 1991. Back.
Note 31: AAN 1991, p. 786. Back.
Note 32: AAN 1990, pp. 722–23. Back.
Note 33: AAN 1991, p. 789. Back.
Note 34: AAN 1992, p. 837. Back.
Note 36: See Jeune Afrique, April 23, 1992. Back.
Note 37: AAN 1992, p. 837. Back.
Note 38: EIU, no. 4, 1992, p. 8. Back.
Note 39: EIU, no. 1, 1993, p. 8. Back.
Note 40: AAN 1992, pp. 843–44. Back.
Note 41: AAN 1992, p. 846. Back.
Note 42: EIU, no. 4, 1993, pp. 9–10. Back.
Note 43: MEI, March 31, 1995. Back.
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