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Women, the State, and Political Liberalization: Middle Eastern and North African Experiences
Laurie A. Brand
1998
2. In the Shadow of the Mudawwanah
A Brief History of the Women’s Movement
The beginnings of a women’s movement in Morocco are generally traced to the independence struggle and the signing by Malika al&-;Fassi (a relative of independence struggle leader Allal al–Fassi) of the Manifeste de l’Indépendance. More dramatic, in 1947, Lalla (princess) Aicha, eldest daughter of Mohammed V (the father of Hassan II), became the first Moroccan woman to appear in public with her face unveiled (she wore a white scarf on her head). In effect designated by her father to be the symbol of the emancipation of Moroccan women, she had received her certificate of studies in 1943, having studied along with her sisters at the palace with two French governesses. 1
The 1940s also witnessed the establishment of a number of women’s organizations. The first, Akhwat al–Safa (Sisters of Purity), emerged from within the Partie de la Démocratie et de l’Indépendance (PDI). Then came the founding of women’s branches in both the Istiqlal (PI) and Moroccan Communist Party. During the actual independence struggle, sisters and wives of the male activists transported arms hidden in bread, fish, and children’s clothing, carried messages and documents, and distributed tracts and money. 2 In general, however, the women’s organizations of the period gave priority to social or charitable work, tended to be directed by men, and gave priority to the demands of the national struggle. 3
Independence came in 1956 and women’s activism began to retreat in the early 1960s. Lalla Aicha’s role dwindled, and many of the militants returned to their homes. The princess did continue as the head of a number of charitable organizations and as a representative of Moroccan women on various occasions. But as Daoud says, the transformation was logical: the movement was launched and then, in a very short time, the daughters of the king became no more than the sisters of the new king, Hassan II, thus completely changing their status and position. 4
The one exception to the general demobilization of women in the immediate post–independence era was the establishment in 1961 of the UPFM (Union Progressiste des Femmes Marocaines), born out of the pro–government UMT (Union Marocaine de Travail), the only trade union in existence at the time. The UPFM’s creation was intended to convince the authorities of the need to overhaul labor and other legislation’s treatment of women. In 1961 a number of UPFM sections were constituted across the country. The union held some twenty regional congresses and created a national bureau as well as regional ones. Thereafter, however, its activity declined, the victim of repression by management, the lack of upper level female cadres, and a variety of political battles. 5
Royal Initiative
Not until 1969 was there a new attempt to establish a women’s organization, this time launched by the king himself. On January 8 he called upon local officials to select women known for their competence and their high moral character to form a women’s union. He also called upon wealthy families to participate, declaring that it was necessary to overcome men’s hesitations. 6 As a result, on May 6, some 300 women gathered in Rabat along with top government dignitaries for the constitutive conference of the Union Nationale des Femmes Marocaines (UNFM). The honorary president was Lalla Aicha, and the actual president another princess, Lalla Fatima Zohra, the wife of the king’s cousin Moulay ‘Ali, then governor of the Central Bank. The king made clear in his address that it was time to move beyond simple acts of charity and to bring societal problems to the attention of the leadership so that solutions could be initiated. According to Lalla Aicha, the UNFM’s role was to see to it that the reforms concerning women remained within the framework of Islam and had the consent of the ulama. 7
The UNFM was recognized as a utilité publique and began publishing a journal, Aicha, shortly thereafter. The designation of utilité publique is important in understanding the development of civil society. Any organization may apply for the designation. If it is received, the petitioning organization is then allowed to engage in fundraising; it is also thereby exempt from certain kinds of taxation and customs duties and can more easily publicize its activities. Over the years, the impression developed that such a designation could be obtained only by organizations whose programs and activities were closely in line with those advocated by the state. This has meant that those organization which directly serve, or at least do not interfere with, the interests of the makhzen have been the only ones to be so licensed. It gives them tremendous financial and organizational advantages. 8
Not surprisingly, given its origins, royal women have been particularly important in the UNFM, not so much in what they actually do but in their visibility and their ability to command support. Yet, the union has never had great social or political weight nor broad appeal among Moroccan women. It has sponsored some social and professional training activities and sends telegrams of support to the state on various occasions. It has also, on occasion, blocked efforts by other organizations to play a greater role among women. A competition of sorts exists between it and the other women’s groups, especially those that developed out of the political parties. The competition is not over funding, but over role and program. For example, in July 1976, in the wake of the meeting launching the UN Decade on Women, some 135 participants from across the political spectrum met to create a national commission for women. The project failed because the UNFM refused to renounce the idea that it officially encompassed the entire women’s movement. 9
Women in the Political Parties
During the 1970s, with the exception of the Moroccan Students Federation, the only women’s organizations independent of the state were those within the political parties. Yet, given the political repression of the period, they were not in a position to be very active. The Istiqlal, Morocco’s oldest political party, was the first to have a women’s section within it, although its own separate women’s organization was not established until 1987. It is also the party which, over the years since independence, has had the largest number of women in its leadership bodies. In 1974 its National Council counted nine women out of a total of 410 members and a Central Committee with three women of 60 members; in 1982 the Central Committee had two women of 80 members, and in 1989 two women were finally elected to its 18–member Executive Committee. The party also presented a number of women for seats in local elections in 1976, 1983, and 1992. 10 But, given the Istiqlal’s conservatism, the interests of its members have been moderately reformist, not transformist. 11
The Union Socialiste des Forces Populaires (USFP), which had developed out of the Union Nationale des Forces Populaires (itself an early offshoot of the PI) created a women’s committee in 1975. Three women were subsequently elected to the party’s administrative committee at its third congress in the late 1970s, while the fourth congress counted seven women of a total of 111 members, and the central committee had for the first time four women among 102 members. Nevertheless, the female base of the party has remained limited and, like the Istiqlal, the recruitment of women generally takes place from within the families of party militants. 12
The USFP’s position on women was that they were a part of a people that was suffering, whose cause the party therefore adopted. Unhealthy and reactionary behavior had to be ended, but without turning Morocco into a permissive society. In addition, in a meeting in 1975 and a conference in 1977, the party called for: a reform of the Personal Status Code or mudawwanah; raising the minimum age for marriage; equality of the two sexes with regard to family responsibilities; and equal rights to divorce, if qualified or constrained in order to preserve family equilibrium in conformity with the prescriptions of Islam. Nonetheless, the party did not actively work to achieve these goals. 13 Its approach to the problems of women may be summed up in the 1973 words of then party leader ‘Abdallah Ibrahim, who argued that women’s struggle was not against men but a unique struggle undertaken by both sexes: there was no difference between men and women, and their joint struggle was to transform the economic, social, and political situation of Morocco. 14
The position of the the other major opposition party, the PPS, has been that it is only through work that women achieve liberation and that feminism is the result of a subjective antagonism between the two sexes. The PPS calls for equality of wages, facilities for working mothers, and a labor statute for women who work as domestic laborers. 15 In 1985, women from the party decided to establish their own organization, the Association Démocratique des Femmes Marocaines (ADFM) which, although officially independent of the PPS, nonetheless shares a number of key cadres with the party.
Given these attitudes it should not be surprising that the flurry of activity that accompanied the convening of the first international women’s conference in Mexico City in 1975 did not immediately translate into any broader mobilization in the country. In the communal elections of November 1976 only 12 of 76 women candidates were elected (out of a total of 42,638 candidates). In the legislative elections of June 1977, none of the eight female candidates was elected, although in the indirect elections that followed, one PI woman was elected from the Chamber of Artisans. Indeed, what seemed to follow was a resurgence of the power of the ulama. In January 1979 a conference of the ministers of the Islamic Conference Organization was held in Fes, and women were forced by the local authorities to wear the veil and the jallaba—the long, loose traditional robe worn by women as an overgarment.
The seventh conference of ulama in Oujda shortly thereafter called for the application of shari‘a, an end to coeducation and dance at schools, and the segregation of the sexes on the beach, among other things. The same year several administrative circulars charged women with obtaining the authorization of their husband, father, or guardian to obtain a passport. The year 1979 did witness a renewed discussion of the mudawwanah (see below), but in the end, conservative forces, which viewed any suggestion of change as an assault on Islam, seemed to have their way, and no changes were introduced. 16
The Emergence of a Women’s Movement
A number of factors came together in the 1980s to produce, by the decade’s end, a surge of women’s activity and organizations. In the political arena, there was the resumption of political party, union, and associative activity along with a reexamination by opposition political parties of their programs in the context of the broader socioeconomic changes that had played a role in triggering the liberalization. 17 As a result, the parties began to demonstrate a new interest in marginalized social sectors and in questions related to human rights, women, and youth. 18 The cumulative effect of long years of waiting for “the revolution” to come and change women’s status also played a role. As it became clear that existing organizations could not deliver, women began to rethink what they could do themselves. By the 1980s, a new consciousness was emerging among some women who began to see their struggle as parallel, not subordinate or secondary, to the class struggle. Disillusioned with more formal politics, the women first turned to social activism; 19 however, their activity gradually was transformed. The increasing interest in women’s condition worldwide also played a role, as did the declaration of the UN Decade of Women (1975–1985). 20
The Movement’s Constituent Groups
If one examines the timing of the establishment of women’s organizations, one finds that, of 29 in existence in 1989, 16 were founded after 1980. 21 If one adds those established since 1990, the skewing of the post–1980 period is even more marked. Most non–Islamist activists trace the revival of women’s activity to a group of women who had been active in the student union (UNEM) but had broken with it over issues related to the possibility of reform and over the question of women. After leaving the UNEM, they had helped to form the AMDH and established a women’s committee within it. In 1983, the AMDH’s activity was effectively frozen, but the women decided to continue their work in the form of social and cultural clubs in youth centers in Casablanca, Rabat, and Sale. This marked the first time that women’s sociopolitical work was not directly under the control of a political party.
In the clubs (which eventually numbered thirteen) the women engaged primarily in educational work: literacy classes (Arabic and French), mathematics, and so on. In addition, there were discussions and seminars on issues related to women and work, health and reproductive issues, family planning, and the like. They also held discussions of the mudawwanah. Initially, their work was publicized through a radio program. Thereafter, information about the centers spread by word of mouth, as the women tried to open new clubs in or near popular quarters. 22
According to former activists, these centers became like second homes. When the young women were not in class, they were there. For three years they operated in this way. Then, the students at one of the clubs in Rabat were called in by the local police to explain what they were doing and what changes in women’s status they were advocating. Although the women had tried to reduce the political content of their work, the police insisted that they had gone beyond what a club administered by the Ministry of Youth could sponsor. The police suggested that they try to register themselves as an association, but it was clear that such licensing would not be forthcoming, probably because of the former association of many of the women’s with leftist parties. 23 Between 1986 and 1988, all their clubs were closed: by the state; by the women themselves because their cadres graduated and were not replaced; or because of a lack of a longer–term strategy. 24
However, during this same period, a number of activists began to establish other groups. The first was the ADFM, noted above, an outgrowth of the women’s section of the PPS, opened in June 1985. As it grew it used involvement in social projects to support its program of consciousness–raising: professional development; integration of women into income–generating activities like sewing and embroidery; literacy programs; legal and health assistance; seminars and meetings on education, employment, and prostitution; and, for a while, the publication of a periodical entitled Nisa’ al–Maghrib (Women of the Maghrib). The ADFM soon counted eight branches across Morocco. After four years of operation, in 1989, it held its first conference, which was attended by 400 delegates. 25
The second organization to be established was that of the PI women (Organisation de la Femme Istiqlalienne, OFI) in February 1987. It then proceeded to organize a series of conferences on such topics as the Moroccan democratic experience, illiteracy, and the Arab Maghrib. The primary demand of these women has been the application of Islamic law and revision of the mudawwanah within the framework of the shari‘a. The OFI also adopted the demand for greater integration of women into political life as a major theme. 26
Also in 1987, the Union de l’Action Féminine (UAF) was founded by a group of women who had established the Arabic language feminist magazine 8 Mars (8 March, International Women’s Day) in 1983. Some were associated with the leftist/Arab nationalist OADP, while others were politically independent. 27 The UAF’s key figure was and continues to be Latifa Jbabdi, a woman with a long history as a militant who spent two and a half years in prison. In addition to producing the magazine, the women sponsored literacy classes, legal and medical assistance, youth centers and clubs, and so on. The UAF gradually established some fifteen regional sections in Morocco as well as offices in Paris, Toulouse, Aix–en–Provence and Lyon. At its first conference, held in March 1990, it adopted a program of action and a list of demands which included unification of the women’s groups in Morocco, effective equality between the sexes, a radical change in the laws, a struggle against patrimonial practices and values, and full citizenship for women.
In the meantime, a number of other women’s organizations of a nonpolitical nature were being established. One of the most notable was the Association of Women’s Solidarity, established by long–time government social worker Aicha Chenna. 28 Chenna’s interest focused on mères célibataires, a term that avoids the implication of an unmarried mother (a concept which is not acceptable in Morocco). These are poor women, many former petites bonnes (child servants who work in Moroccan homes) who have been abused physically and/or sexually and have become pregnant. Others are young women who have been divorced by their husbands and have no money and no skills. Chenna established her organization to enable the mères célibataires to keep their children and to do so without having to resort to prostitution to make a living. The association operates a catering service which offers inexpensive meals to a variety of public and private offices. With the money they earn, the women are expected to rent rooms so that they have a place of their own. The association also has a crèche, where the women can leave their children when they go to work. However, the association can accommodate only about 23 women at a time, so they are expected eventually to “graduate” and find jobs elsewhere.
During the same period, on the study/research front, in 1986 a grant from the Konrad Adenauer Foundation to the Faculty of Letters at Muhammad V University (Rabat) enabled a group of researchers that had been active from 1981 to 1983 to resume its work on issues related to the family. This group became known as Approaches and was open to male and female researchers, university professors, and others. It produced five works on women and/or the family between 1987 and 1990. In addition to publishing their work, the group held numerous conferences, roundtables, and debates on their research. 29
It is also worth mentioning some of the publications of the period. In 1986 a new type of magazine, Kalima, appeared, published in French. While the magazine had a clear interest in women’s issues, this monthly developed a readership that included men as well, as is clear from a perusal of the letters to the editor. It addressed a number of very sensitive issues, including the problem of violence against women and of male prostitution. (The latter topic triggered one of the closures the magazine suffered in its short life.) Many of the articles concerned male–female relations, general family problems, as well as a range of socioeconomic and sociopolitical problems. After two years it was forced to cease publication following an issue devoted almost entirely to a critique of the Moroccan press. This came only seven months after the closure of another high–quality French–language journal/review, Lamalif. 30 Published since 1966, it had addressed a range of socioeconomic and political issues, among them women and gender and had managed to survive some of the darkest periods of political repression in Morocco.
Also prominent during this period were the published products of a series of activities organized by well–known writer and sociologist Fatima Mernissi, entitled initially Femmes 2000. With support of the German foundation Friedrich Ebert, among others, a series of works on women were published by the Casablanca female publisher Laila Chaouni’s Editions Le Fennec. While these are not all academic studies, they are solid contributions to a growing number of works on Moroccan woman. Among the titles are: Portraits de Femmes, Femmes Partagées: Famille–Travail, Femmes et Pouvoir, La Femme et la Loi au Maroc, Femmes et Media, Femmes et Politique, to name only a few. Between 1989 and 1994 Mernissi’s group also held numerous writing workshops for women from across North Africa, as well as conferences on women and violence, female leadership, and the associative movement. 31
The Gulf War as Watershed?
When I posed the question as to whether the Gulf War of 1990–91 had served as a watershed for the invigoration of political activity, a number of my interlocutors answered in the negative. They contended that the war had thrown them into confusion, in part because it had been such a horrible and swift defeat, and in part because it had forced them to truly question what their image of the West was. For those working on human rights and women’s rights, issues that are generally perceived as having originated in the West, the contradictions and dilemmas were substantial.
Nevertheless, given the evidence, it seems difficult to ignore the war as a significant marker in domestic politics. For example, it is unlikely that the message of the popular outpouring of anger and frustration manifested in the pro–Iraq demonstration in Rabat in February 1991 was lost on the king. The years of stagnation at the national level had to be overcome and more avenues of popular expression had to be found lest the pent–up energy be turned in more dangerous directions. The burst of civil society activity may also have owed to a sense of growing organizational possibilities which were then reinforced by the increasing availability of funding from foreign institutions eager to jump on the new NGO–promotion bandwagon.
In any case, numerous other women’s organizations as well as societies dealing with economic issues, culture, health, and human rights were founded during this period. In April 1994, a center for battered women, where women can receive legal advice and social counseling, was opened in Casablanca. On the research side, a Women’s Study Group was established at Mohammed V University in 1992 by English professor Fawzia Ghassasi. The professors meet periodically to discuss research, encourage each other to publish, and stimulate interest in research on women among graduate students. There is also, among the committees of the OMDH, a women’s committee, which is quite active, having held a number of discussions and roundtables on such topics as equality between the sexes in Moroccan law and divorce.
In the flurry of activity that accompanied the one million signature campaign to change the mudawwanah, discussed in the next chapter, numerous other groups were established. One was the Association Marocaine des Droits des Femmes, a women’s offshoot of the AMDH (April 1992). Although at the time of this writing it had no headquarters and very little in the way of resources (all the work is voluntary), it had sponsored a major, full–day workshop on the question of legal protection for women against violence with the assistance of Friedrich Ebert. 32 There is also the Ligue Démocratique des Droits de la Femme, an offshoot of Hizb al–Tali‘a (1992), and l’Association Marocaine des Femmes Progressistes (1993). It was not until July 1995 that an independent women’s group (Association al–Jusur) finally issued from the ranks of the USFP.
Outside the framework of the official political parties, of course, are the various Islamist groups, which initially opposed the idea of women’s participation in politics. The best known of the Islamist groups, Justice and Charity (al–‘Adl w–al–Ihsan), led by the famous ‘Abd al–Salam Yacine, who lived under house arrest from 1986 to 1996, remains unlicensed. Its members view those political actors that work within the makhzen system as corrupt, and they prefer to remain outside this system as the only way of constituting true opposition. Hence, they reject participation in the system by either men or women. Nonetheless, ‘Abd al–Salam’s daughter Nadia, the unofficial spokesperson of the movement, stated that she had been approached by a number of different groups regarding establishing an Islamist women’s organization. She argued that even if one were to accept the principle of participation, any attempt to construct an Islamist women’s organization would encounter problems because the various groups disagree on a number of matters, religious and political. Small–scale social work projects aimed at alleviating the condition of women do not, in her/their view, bring about change. Women have an important role to play, but perhaps not in the framework of a separate women’s organization. For the time being, Justice and Charity’s focus remains education and efforts aimed at developing people’s faith. 33
As for those Islamists who may be described as working within the system, the most prominent is the Reform and Renewal Movement (Harakat al–Islah w–al–Tajdid). After repeated unsuccessful attempts to obtain a license, in May 1996 it merged with the center–right Mouvement Populaire Démocratique et Constitutionnel. A women’s organizational offshoot of al–Islah w–al–Tajdid was established in 1994. Named Munaththamat Tajdid al–Wa‘i al–Nisa‘i (The Organization for Renewing Women’s Awareness), it was founded by a group of women who wanted to address the terrible problems of Moroccan women—illiteracy, poverty, prostitution, skyrocketing divorce rates. They were not satisfied with the existing women’s organizations because of their secular orientation, so they came together with the idea of establishing an organization with Islam as its basis and with the mission of focusing on renewal in the areas of education and culture. The emphasis is on a renewed Islam, not prevaling religious practice, which they argue is based on superstition and a poor understanding of religion. Their primary tools are lectures and seminars on women’s and family issues, as well as literacy classes. 34 While they do not rule out more activist kinds of work, they do not regard such activities as within their current capabilities. They situate their efforts in the context of fighting against what they call a westernization assault against Morocco and Islamic society more broadly. 35
Evaluation
Addressing issues ranging from human rights to art, small business, abandoned children, family relations, health, family planning, and local development, a multitude of women’s and other civil society groups developed in the post–1991 period. In general, these organizations work under difficult conditions. Their financial resources are quite limited, there is the utilité publique problem, and they do not benefit from the various subventions that political parties do (such as the subsidies party newspapers enjoy). Beyond these considerations, the degree to which their activities are publicized in the press generally is also contingent: if the group is not close to a political party, its activities are likely to languish largely unnoticed.
The women’s movement is to a large extent a reflection of both the state of civil society generally and the political map of the country more specifically. On the first point, it is clear that the number of women involved in or directly affected by the women’s organizations is quite small. The organizations examined above are limited to the urban areas and, with some exceptions (such as the OFI and the state–sponsored UNFM), generally to Rabat and Casablanca. This means that the rural population is largely left out of the equation. In addition, those who are involved in women’s activities tend to be relatively privileged. In a country in which illiteracy is as high as 60 percent (and even higher among women), and much of the population lives in relative if not absolute poverty, there are limits to women’s availability and/or ability and/or interest to become involved. There are also apparent limits to the degree to which the more privileged women are capable of bridging the gap between their own socioeconomic situation and that of the broader sectors of the Moroccan population who need their assistance.
Beyond the question of literacy and poverty, of course, is a range of additional problems that limit women’s participation in organized activities. Family/societal pressures militate against women’s involvement outside the home, unless it happens to be economic activity necessary to support the family. In addition, the combination of work and family responsibilities is tremendous. Unlike men, who can pass entire days in cafés drinking coffee and tea without suffering reproach, women are exposed to charges of “leaving” or “neglecting” their families for other work, for spending too much time outside the home. The question of women’s mobility is also critical, for transportation to and from meetings can be a problem, and women’s unaccompanied movement at night can be dangerous and is often not accepted by families. Furthermore, women are often socialized into believing that they cannot assume positions of responsibility and therefore are very hesitant to try. They are socialized into not knowing their rights and often intimidated into not exercising them.
Another problem is fragmentation. Despite the relative independence that the women’s organizations may enjoy from the political parties from which they emerged, each is clearly identified with a political party, and this makes coordination difficult. The problem is not really one of greatly differing ideological inclinations, but of political or individual rivalries. The state also has an interest in the proliferation of organizations: the more organizations there are, the more difficult coordination is likely to be and therefore the more limited their political impact; and by allowing such organizations to operate, the state can more easily monitor grassroots activism.
In all cases, however, these groups are operating within the system, even if they see themselves in opposition. In effect, they accept the discourse of the makhzen and then use it to their best advantage, by pointing out the contradictions between the official line and daily practice. 36 In so doing, they, like others, are obliged to place themselves within the context of Islamic law. Their call is for a revival of ijtihad (independent interpretation of religious texts), which they see as the only hope at this stage for modifying what they view as the objectionable impact of shari‘a.
Women’s Legal Status Prior to Liberalization
All of Morocco’s post–independence constitutions have stressed the principle of equality between men and women. Article 5 says that “All Moroccans are equal before the law,” while article 8 adds that men and women enjoy equally their political and civil rights. Article 12 states that the sexes are equal in exercise of public employment and in the conditions required. However, that equality does not include certain other areas, many of which are critical to women and demonstrate the tremendous gap between the text of the law and the reality of Moroccan life.
The first objection that Moroccan women generally raise is that, while many work outside the home in responsible positions, raising a family and earning money for it, the law continues to treat them as minors. This can be seen in a number of areas of law. For example, the Personal Status Code or mudawwanah prohibits a woman from entering into a marriage contract herself: she must have a tutor (wali). Moreover, tutorship over a female lasts until she is married (no matter at what age that occurs), so that a 40–year–old unmarried woman must still have a tutor for certain affairs, whereas for a boy the tutor’s role ends at puberty.
This minor status is clear in other legislation as well. In the labor code, there is a long list of restrictions on employment that apply to children under age sixteen and to all women. For example, women and children are forbidden to work around specified noxious gases and emissions. 37 One wonders whether to be thankful that women and children are protected from such things, angry that the state rather than the individual makes the decision about who can work where, or furious that anyone is allowed to work in such conditions. Presumably in these cases, women are excluded for fear that their all–important child–bearing potential may be compromised. Indeed, there are pregnancy and maternity policies that protect women’s jobs, and establishments of a certain size (fifty women workers over the age of 15) are required to provide nursing rooms, although the enforcement of such provisions faces many obstacles. In other cases, there are prohibitions about work in areas in which women’s morals may be negatively affected (places that are deemed injurious to public morals). The presumption is that women are less able to protect themselves, or that men are better able to resist the corrupting influence of such places. As a book detailing women’s status in Moroccan law states:
| Moroccan legislation provides special protection for children under 16 and woman of all ages. These measures are dictated by the physical inferiority of these two categories of workers, by the legislators’ concerns that the working woman have the best possible working conditions, given her reproductive role, or by concerns related to the moral order. 38 |
However, as one author has noted, at times when the economy is in need of additional manual labor, such concerns can be set aside: in 1928 women were used as laborers in the construction industry and as stevedores at the port of Casablanca. And, for all the proclaimed concern about protecting women, nowhere does the law specifically outlaw salary discrimination, a common practice that clearly harms them. 39
The penal code also contains discriminatory elements. For example, article 336 stipulates that a woman must obtain the permission of the court in order to join a civil suit against her husband. Article 418 of the penal code states that a man who is the victim of adultery and who as a result commits murder or assault on encountering his wife and her lover benefits from considerations of extenuating circumstances: there is no mention of a parallel right for the wife. Just as damning, a woman who has a child outside of marriage (even if the pregnancy is the result of rape or incest) can be sent to prison for six months (the presumption being that she is a prostitute) and the statute of limitations is five years. Thus, if a woman has a child out of wedlock and tries to register it and no father claims it, she can be arrested. To prove fatherhood according to Moroccan law, the women has to produce twelve witnesses who will testify to the fact that she had sexual relations with the man in question. Abortion is illegal, and a woman who abandons her child (to avoid possible imprisonment) is also liable to be prosecuted.
Described by some as the last bastion of the shari‘a in the legal codes of most Islamic countries, the Personal Status Code is generally the most impervious to reform. This should not be surprising, since controlling women and the production of children is a necessary part of the societal (patriarchal) order. Moreover, continuing makhzen support for such policies reinforces the state’s relations with its strongest bases of support: the ulama and the rural notables. The version of the mudawwanah that was applied until September 1993 had been drafted by a commission created by Muhammad V and chaired by ‘Allal al–Fassi. Its text was released in segments between November 22, 1957 and February 20, 1959. What was produced, not surprisingly, was a law that carefully respected the Malekite tradition, the prevailing Islamic law school in Morocco. Neither society in general, nor the salafists (religious traditionalists) among the ruling elite, were interested in swift or deep changes in women’s status or family law. Such change as would occur would take place slowly and within the framework of the shari‘a. Because al–Fassi tried to amend certain elements, through offering recourse to a judge (which had not been stipulated in existing texts), some women regard him as a hero. Nevertheless, the woman envisaged in the mudawwanah is a rich woman who does not work outside the home and whose status is guaranteed by reliance on her family. The poor woman is not really taken into consideration. At the time of its promulgation, wealthy intellectual women seemed unconcerned with key elements of the mudawwanah. As Daoud quotes an unidentified bourgeois woman,
| Nous étions des pionnières. Notre dignité, notre émancipation, c’était l’alphabétisation, l’instruction. Tout ne pouvait être que le résultat de l’ignorance. La moudawwana nous apparaissait secondaire. 40 |
Yet, there are many elements of the mudawwanah to which women object, in addition to the role of the tutor, cited above. For example, a Moroccan Muslim woman may not marry a non–Muslim and a woman/girl may be forced by a judge to marry a suitable partner if there is a fear or suspicion of bad conduct on her part (whereas in general the law says that a woman must give her consent to any marriage contract). The law also states that a woman owes obedience to her husband and his parents, a stipulation that has ramifications for a variety of issues related to the organization and development of family life. The wife also needs her husband’s consent to obtain a passport. 41
The law sanctions polygamy, although the mudawwanah insists that it is illegal if there is a concern that the husband cannot treat both/all wives justly. The wife does have the right to stipulate in her marriage contract that her husband not take a second wife and that she be accorded the right to divorce should she so choose; however, in practice, such safeguards are often ignored or contravened. Either spouse may demand a divorce, but the cases in which the woman has a right to divorce are specified and must be requested before a judge, whereas in the case of the male, they are left open. While the law itself states numerous conditions, and there are various kinds of divorces, 42 in practice there are few constraints on the husband’s decision and few protections for the woman. The same is true in the realm of compensation for an ex–wife and allowance for children under her care. In general, women do not know their rights, cannot afford to take ex–husbands to court, and often are thwarted either by the process itself or by a system which does nothing to enforce legal judgments against a husband.
The first attempts to change the mudawwanah date to 1972, when a royal commission was charged with preparing a draft on the issue. But it was not long before it halted its work. 43 In 1979 two deputies from the Rassemblement National des Independants, (RNI) a royalist or pro–government centrist party, submitted two drafts for changes in the law. The Minister of Justice, acting outside the constitution, decided to turn the issue over to a group of ulama. In the end, a proposition regarding a food pension for divorced women was passed, but the other proposals were not even brought to a vote. Other initiatives, such as the proposed creation of 300 personal status tribunals and a project to deal with the problem of the abandonment of illegitimate children, came to naught. 44
A more thoroughgoing attempt to revise the mudawwanah also came in 1979. Written by a royal commission of three magistrates, it suggested many minor changes, as well as a number of major ones. The marriage age was raised for both men and women; the powers of the woman’s tutor were further regulated; the husband was required to respect and obey his in–laws; the husband would no longer be able to forbid his wife to work if such work served the general or family interest; the right of repudiation of the marriage could be written into the woman’s marriage contract; a women’s possible grounds for demanding divorce were broadened; and polygamy was placed under the authority of a judge. 45 But the opposition was intense. The mudawwanah had acquired a status approaching that of sacred text and the ulama and other conservatives bristled at any suggestion of change. As with previous attempts, nothing came of these proposals.
Changes Since Liberalization
Since the beginning of the liberalization in the mid–1980s, Morocco has signed a number of international conventions that are intended to provide greater legal protection to women of all ages, including in June 1993 the Convention against the Exploitation of Children, the Convention against Torture, and the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women. However, as is the case with other governments, Morocco registered reservations on certain articles, and human rights and women’s rights activists continue to press for the elimination of such reservations upon the adoption of these conventions.
There have also been some minor changes in laws. For example, the Finance Law of 1992 exempted women from paying legal fees for cases related to obtaining alimony (nafaqa). While this hardly solved the many problems related to the provisions surrounding divorce, it nonetheless was a positive step. Many repudiated women are desperately in need of support for themselves and their children, yet are not in a position to take the ex–husband to court, in part because of the cost. In early 1992 the parliament also shortened from 21 to 15 years the period of service required of women before retirement. While this may be viewed by some as a gain, for others this appears to be a way of getting women out of the work force in order to help solve the growing problem of unemployment. 46
Besides the changes in the mudawwanah (to be discussed in the next chapter), the most significant change in the law came in July 1995, when, at the end of a special session, parliament voted to abrogate an article in the 1913 Law of Engagements and Contracts which forbade married women from concluding commercial contracts without their husbands’ consent. This article, a remnant of the Napoleonic Code, was in direct contravention of the constitution, labor legislation, as well as economic rights clearly given to women in the shari‘a. The change in this law was initiated by USFP and PI deputies. Initially three changes were proposed: (1) that the above–mentioned article be changed; (2) that an article left over from the French protectorate that required a married woman to obtain her husband’s permission to open a business (a clear contradiction of Islamic law) be overturned; and (3) that an article requiring a married woman to have a judge’s permission to raise a legal suit against her husband be set aside. The second proposal was scheduled to be discussed during the fall 1995 parliamentary session, and the third was yet to be put forward at the time of this writing.
USFP parliamentarian Badia Sqalli explained that it took a great deal of work just to put forward these minor changes. They had to be studied, and then colleagues had to be lobbied and cajoled. An additional obstacle to change is the fact that propositions presented by MPs are considered only after those of the government are addressed. Sqalli did note that she had used the approach of the Beijing conference as a form of pressure, arguing that the proposals were but minor changes and that they would give women something to take with them to Beijing. 47
Work for the future. A number of legal issues continue to be the focus of women’s attention in addition to the desire for further changes to the mudawwanah. According to PI MP Latifa Benani–Smires, these include the special demands made of women in order to obtain passports or commercial licenses, the right of a divorced woman with custody of the children to keep the conjugal home, and equality in the penal code. 48 MP Sqalli noted that after the mudawwanah reform of 1993, the problem of child custody arose, for, as a result of the changes, a divorced mother now has the choice of never remarrying if she wants to keep the child(ren) (although being a nonremarried divorcée carries a severe social stigma), or remarrying and losing custody. She contended, however, that the most urgent issue was the divorce law. The OMDH has also made a special effort to focus on divorce, holding a special round table on repudiation to which it invited representatives of various women’s organizations on March 26, 1994. Even the Islamists are in accord on the need for reform here, since 50 percent of all marriages in Morocco end in divorce. Sqalli clearly feels that further work is needed on a number of issues related to the personal status law, but believes there is better chance for success if they are addressed one at a time. 49
The Role of External Funders
One cannot examine the activity of women’s organizations in Morocco in any depth and not be struck by the role of external funding organizations—whether governmental, nongovernmental, or international. Several institutions are examined here. The coverage is not exhaustive; the discussion is meant, not to catalogue, but to provide a basis for evaluating the role that external actors may play in shaping the domestic agenda or in influencing the role that women and women’s organizations may play.
One indication of the growing importance of foreign funding was the establishment after the Gulf War of a special development unit in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to oversee, mediate, and coordinate the efforts of external funders and the projects of Moroccan NGOs. Despite one analyst’s argument that this was an attempt by the government to control the funding choices or directions of external agencies, 50 a number of women active in NGOs dismissed this contention, arguing that, with only two employees and a very small budget, the office is hardly in a position to make a major impact. This office must be informed of foreign grants and aid, but it is not really in the position to give approval for projects. That type of “censorship” takes place in other ways and at other levels. 51 They also felt it was natural that the government know which foreign institutions are funding what for whom.
Konrad Adenauer Stiftung (KAS). 52 This affiliate of the German Christian Democratic Party began its work in the 1960s, primarily in Latin America, and then expanded into Africa and the Mediterranean area. In Morocco it has had two funding priorities: humanities and social science research, to help nationals study their own country; and economic infrastructure development, especially assisting small and medium–size firms. It is the first function that is relevant to this discussion, because since 1985 KAS has allocated money to Muhammad V University for numerous conferences dealing with issues relating to women, as well as more general methodological seminars for graduate students. It has also supported the publication of a number of studies on women’s issues. Officials admit that their budget for such projects is quite small. Yet, while KAS’s role may seem minor, it is worth noting that it appears to have been the first foreign institution to sponsor such research. The initial contacts were made by Fatima Mernissi, but have continued through a number of other Moroccan university professors. From this initial set of studies (Approaches, noted earlier), eventually a whole series of works on women was generated, some funded by Adenauer, others funded by Friedrich Ebert.
Friedrich Ebert Stiftung (FES). 53 Affiliated with the German Social Democratic Party, this organization’s activities were most prominent during the course of the research for this study. Although it was involved in Morocco in the 1980s, its work on women is a post–1990 phenomenon and was described as having proceeded through several steps. The first began with Fatima Mernissi and involved sponsoring the preparation and publication (in cooperation with publisher Laila Chaouni) of a series of books on women’s issues mentioned earlier: women and education, women and labor, women and the media, women and politics, and so on. As part of this effort, FES also sponsored a series of writing workshops for women. These books and studies are widely available in bookstores (and research libraries) in Morocco. Although somewhat limited in audience since they are published in French, their very presence in the market has given a great boost to interest in women’s issues.
The second stage of FES’s work was its support for NGO preparations for the 1995 Beijing conference. It became the primary funder for the Maghrib–wide NGO Collectif 95, an initiative that developed out of the ADFM to include organizations and individuals from Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria. Their efforts aimed at producing several documents for presentation at the Beijing conference, the most controversial of which was a proposed unified personal status code for the three countries (see next chapter).
The third stage was described by the FES resident representative as the most concrete to date: work with such organizations as the AMDF on concrete proposals for changes in laws that adversely affect women. To that end they sponsored a conference with the AMDF on women and legal protection against violence. The full–day conference (June 24, 1995) produced a series of concrete proposals for amendments and changes to existing personal status, labor, commercial, and penal codes. The proposals were then presented to the press and were also to be submitted to the relevant ministries. Another, related project was being pursued with the LDDF (Ligue Démocratique des Droits de la Femme) regarding the labor law.
Amideast. 54 Amideast, an independent U.S. NGO, has a long history of working in Morocco, and its director, Sue Buret, is a long–term resident of the kingdom. In 1984, with money that had been earmarked by the former Carter administration for human rights projects, Buret, concerned that a program explicitly dealing with human rights would not be permitted in Morocco, put together a program on what she called “legal education.” In this context she stressed the importance of choosing an appropriate partner. She decided to work through Fatima Hassar, a woman whom she had known for a long time. Hassar, a member of the PI executive committee who had excellent relations with the palace, was also head of the Moroccan Red Crescent Society (MRCS). Hassar’s credentials, as well as the MRCS’s humanitarian focus, enabled Amideast to pursue the project. It began by working with the Institut National de la Justice, whose director Buret had known from an earlier Fulbright board association. Through this association she was able to establish a kind of partnership, which over the years sent some forty Moroccans to the Strasbourg Center in France. One indicator of the program’s success was the fact that a number of those who participated in this program ultimately became founding members of the OMDH.
Subsequently, from 1986–88, Amideast sponsored a series of eight seminars on legal education, which also had a strong human rights component. It invited government representatives from the ministries of foreign affairs, justice, and the interior as well as the PVOs in existence at the time. The demand to participate in the sessions was far beyond Amideast’s expectations. Buret’s familiarity with a number of law professors at various Moroccan faculties also enabled her to interest them, within this same context of legal education, in seminars on comparative law. Again, an indicator of Amideast’s success was that when the Ministry of Human Rights was established in 1993, many of those who were appointed had been involved in the Amideast project.
The U.S. government. In Morocco the U.S. government has supported democratization through USAID’s Democratic Insitutions Initiative (DII), launched in 1991. One target has been the parliament. At the time of this research, it had been proposed that AID provide computer facilities to the parliament to give MPs easier access to information that could be useful in decisionmaking. There have also been a number of USIS and USAID–sponsored international visitor programs which have sent Moroccan legislators to the U.S. to observe national and local elections and/or brought to Morocco Arabophone congressional aides who could explain some of the technical aspects of the U.S. legislative process. This idea has not been without its critics, for some argue that if the parliament itself is not playing a democratic role, there is no reason to strengthen a nondemocratic system. The counterargument has been that any programs that make MPs better legislators are positive contributions. 55
The other portion of the DII in Morocco has been support for NGOs, especially those working on women’s issues and on human rights more broadly. AID has been involved in projects regarding women for some time, but only since about 1993–94 has this been within the framework of the DII. For years, AID worked on women’s issues through the two American NGOs in Morocco: Amideast and Catholic Relief Services. With CRS’s announced intention to leave Morocco, AID has begun to work directly with some Moroccan NGOs. This has also been possible because of the political liberalization in Morocco and because of the increased domestic focus on NGO development. The objective in working with women’s and other NGO’s has been to sensitize them and the public to women’s issues and to assist some of the NGOs in institution building. 56
As part of this support, AID has sponsored Moroccan women’s participation in local, regional, and international conferences dealing with NGOs, women’s issues, preparation for Beijing, and the like. The choice of whom to sponsor and for what projects is made as a result of a close monitoring of the groups and their activities. If a group has good ideas, being small or institutionally underdeveloped has not necessarily been a hindrance to receiving assistance. Sometimes AID approaches the women with ideas, sometimes the opposite occurs. 57
USIS has also had programs that specifically target women. In July 1993 USIS sent a group of seven women, members of different political parties, to the U.S. as part of an International Visitor (IV) program. This was the first program of its kind from Morocco, and among those who went were Latifa Benani–Smires (the female PIMP) and Amina Lamrini (who ran for parliament from the PPS). Badia Sqalli (the female USFP MP) had been to the U.S. on an earlier IV grant. This thrust has continued, as USIS has made a conscious effort to include more and more women in these programs, some from government and some from NGOs. The USIS facility, Dar Amerika, has also been made available to women to use for gatherings, and USIS itself has sponsored three to four roundtables a year on women’s issues. 58
Evaluation
There is no question that external agencies are currently, and have been for some time (in the case of Amideast, 10 years), playing a role in funding a range of projects that provide women and women’s issues with greater visibility, along with supporting the consolidation of political liberalization. They have provided money for conferences on women and the law, women and violence, for institutional infrastructural development of NGOs, for development of women’s skills and training through participation in regional and international conferences, for addressing taboo issues (such as domestic violence), and for publications and study groups on a variety of issues related to women.
How do actors on the two sides (Moroccan and foreign) see the relationship? All those interviewed were generally positive in their evaluation; however, it is clear that there are tensions. Donors complain about lack of coordination among women’s organizations as well as the problem of women who become celebrities and become difficult to work with. There has also been some disappointment with the quality of some of the burgeoning number of studies that have been sponsored.
Perhaps more important, there are concerns that such foreign funding in effect relieves the Moroccan state of some of its responsibilities by providing support to the types of activities that should receive government assistance. On the other hand, direct Moroccan government interference or harassment was not mentioned by any of those interviewed, although at times the state has made its displeasure clear, and the foreign institutions themselves certainly take into consideration the political climate in their decisions to propose or fund projects. In general, however, the state appears not to have the resources to put into such projects and is either indifferent or content to see the initiative taken by an outside agency. The arrangement that such organizations have with the Moroccan government is that they will cooperate only with licensed organizations, and their programs are public, not secret. Representatives of relevant ministries are generally invited. This keeps the relationship clear and aboveboard.
Can one talk about a role of such external funders in setting or altering the domestic agenda? This is a difficult question to answer. During the pre–1990 period, women’s organizations often chose their activities on the basis of what previous associations had done rather than on the needs of women and girls. 59 In the post–1990 period, when external funding began to flow, women’s groups found their agenda shaped by the projects for which they could secure funding. While these were not projects they did not want to undertake, the funding has often shaped the concentration of efforts in ways that do not necessarily reflect Moroccan priorities. For example, I was told that Fatima Mernissi had approached USIS about funding a center for battered women. They turned her down on the grounds that this did not really fit within their purview. (Mernissi subsequently went to the Germans and obtained the funding she wanted.) NGOs also argue that what they really need is not just project–specific support, which is what the vast majority of this external funding is and the kind the Moroccan government accepts, but more general infrastructural support: assistance in developing general administration and management—skills which are not in abundance, at least among the NGO activists. A bit more disturbing is the missionary zeal in the discourse of some members of the foreign funding community: an excitement and at times a superiority in propagating the “good news” of democratization, women’s rights, and economic decentralization.
But does this mean that funders have set or substantially altered the agenda? The answer is a qualified “no.” In the first place, these funders did not create the desire on the part of Moroccan women to address the issues in which they are involved. It would be exceedingly unfair to portray women’s activity in Morocco as somehow deriving essentially from an external initiative. On the contrary, what had been lacking were sufficient domestic political freedom and financial resources. The desire to militate to change the mudawwanah, for example, can be traced to well before the liberalization. Likewise, the most important women’s groups, at least to date, were founded during a period that predates external funders’ programs focusing on women and democratization. Many of these funders have, on the other hand, long had programs that assisted women in rural development or small income–generating projects, and the like.
That these organizations help to support organizations to keep women’s issues in the public eye in a way that they could not without such support is probably beyond question. Many of the conferences, workshops, and publications that have punctuated the liberalization period could not have been realized without external funding, especially since most of these organizations have not been designated utilités publiques. But can such Western funding be a liability? A number of interviewees reported that immediately following the Gulf War it was very difficult to take money from any Western funders, although the stigma dissipated quickly. More problematic, human rights and women’s rights as they are defined by these Western donors are often viewed as values and movements imported from abroad that are either alien or injurious to indigenous culture(s) and norms. The association of many women’s organizations with foreign funding institutions, in addition to their largely secularist message and their generally leftist pasts, makes them particularly vulnerable to charges of being agents of neoimperialism or of betraying indigenous traditions and values. While in an earlier period such charges might not have had great import, they are significant in a period when conservatives, particularly Islamists, see themselves involved in a struggle against imported ideas which they claim pervert indigenous cultural and religious norms. By accepting such external funding, the women do leave themselves open to charges of collusion with the West. However, given the current state of available resources in the country, it is not clear what other options they might have.
In sum, an interactive process is clearly at work: the liberalization has allowed for the establishment and greater activity of women’s organizations (and thus for the funding opportunities of which the foreign groups have taken advantage); at the same time the foreign funders reinforce the liberalization process by helping to strengthen organizations and associations that are pressing for greater freedoms and activity for civil society actors. Just as important as the actual funding, however, is the broader international political climate—a climate in which the discourse (if not always the practices) of economic and political liberalization, human rights, and women’s rights, has become hegemonic and which rewards those states that pursue projects supporting these norms and punishes or marginalizes those which do not. Thus the activity of these funding organizations must be understood, not only in terms of the domestic context, but also in terms of their relationship to or their role as extensions of a broader set of international movements and institutions. Such activities would likely not have been possible without the liberalization (itself part of one of these broad movements), nor, however, would they have taken on such an importance or found such a resonance deprived of a supportive international environment.
Endnotes
Note 1: Zakya Daoud, Féminisme et Politique au Maghreb (Casablanca: Editions Eddif, 1993), pp. 243–245, 250. (Hereafter Daoud.) The reader will note a fairly heavy reliance on this work. That is a result of the paucity of other materials on particularly the early part of the period under discussion. Back.
Note 2: Ibid., pp. 243 and 253. Back.
Note 3: Aicha Belarbi, “Al–Harakah al–Nisa’iyyah w–al–Intiqal nahwa al–Dimuqra– tiyyah,” in Friedrich Ebert Stiftung, Femmes & Société Civile au Maghreb (Marrakech: Publications Universitaires du Maghreb, n.d.), p. 11. Back.
Note 4: Daoud, pp. 262–63. Back.
Note 5: Leila Chafai, “Le Mouvement des Femmes au Maroc,” draft paper, p. 12 (hereafter Chafai); and Daoud, pp. 269–271. Back.
Note 7: Sophie Bessis and Souhayr Belhassan, Femmes du Maghreb: l’Enjeu (Casablanca: Editions Eddif, 1992), p. 74. Back.
Note 8: Interview with Amina Lamrini, president of the Association Marocaines des Femmes Démocrates (AMDF), in Rabat, 18 July 1995. Back.
Note 10: Chafai, pp. 9–10. Back.
Note 12: Chafai, pp. 10–11. Back.
Note 16: Ibid., pp. 289, 298–290, 307. Back.
Note 17: Patrick Haenni, “Le Théâtre d’Ombres de L’Action Féminine: Femme, Etat, et Société Civile au Maroc” (hereafter cited as Haenni) thesis for the D.E.A. d’études politiques (AMAC), I.E.P. de Paris, 1993, p. 20. Back.
Note 20: Chafai, pp. 20–21. Back.
Note 22: Interview with journalist and former student activist Leila Chafai, in Rabat, July 4, 1995. Back.
Note 24: Chafai interview. Back.
Note 25: Daoud, pp. 413–14. Back.
Note 26: Ibid., pp. 316–17. Back.
Note 27: Interview with Aicha Loukhmas, an editor of 8 Mars and a member of the UAF, in Casablanca, July 21, 1995. Back.
Note 28: Interview with Aicha Chenna, head of Association of Women’s Solidarity, in Casablanca, July 11, 1995. Back.
Note 29: Aicha Belarbi, “Mouvement des Femmes au Maroc,” Annuaire de l’Afrique du Nord 28 (1989): 463–64. Back.
Note 30: Lamalif is a word that combines the names for two Arabic letters (lam and alif) which spell the word meaning “no.” Back.
Note 31: For full details of Mernissi’s programs see Femmes Maghreb Deux Mille Deux: cinq ans après (Rabat: AFJEM, n.d.) Back.
Note 32: Interview with Najat Razi, former student activist and member of the Association Marocaine des Droits des Femmes, in Casablanca, July 11, 1995. Back.
Note 33: Interview with Nadia Yacine, in Sale, August 10, 1995. For a more detailed presentation on ‘Abd–Salam Yacine and the Justice and Charity party see Henry Munson, Religion and Power in Morocco (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993), pp. 162–179. Back.
Note 34: Al–Rayah, April 16, 1996. Back.
Note 35: Interview with Khadijah Ahmad, member of Tajdid al–Wa‘i al–Nisa’i, in Rabat, April 23, 1996. Back.
Note 37: Centre d’Etudes et de Recherches Demographiques (CERD), Statut Economique et Social de la Femme au Maroc: Recueil Analytique des Textes (Rabat: Ministère du Plan, Direction de la Statistique, 1990), pp. 246–51. Back.
Note 38: Ibid., pp. 252–59. Back.
Note 39: Moulay Rachid Abderazak, La Femme et La Loi au Maroc (Casablanca: Editions Le Fennec, 1992), p. 116. Back.
Note 40: Daoud, pp. 255, 258, and 260. “We were the pioneers. Our dignity, our emancipation was in literacy, education. Everything was the result of ignorance. For us, the mudawwanah was a secondary concern.” Back.
Note 41: Abderazak, pp. 54–64; 62–63. Back.
Note 42: Ibid., pp. 64–73. Back.
Note 43: Leila Abuzayd, “Ta‘dil Mudawwanat al–Ahwal al–Shakhsiyyah,” Al–Minbar al–Libirali, April 19, 1995, p. 25. Back.
Note 46: 8 Mars, no. 57, p. 2. Back.
Note 47: Interview with MP Badi‘a Sqalli, in Rabat, July 19, 1995. Back.
Note 48: Al–‘Alam, 8 March 1994. Back.
Note 49: Sqalli interview. Back.
Note 51: Interview with Professor of Sociology and USFP member Aicha Belarbi, in Rabat, June 29, 1995. Back.
Note 52: Interview with Konrad Adenauer Representative in Morocco, Dr. Bernd Weischer, in Rabat, June 27, 1995. Back.
Note 53: Interview with Friedrich Ebert Representative in Morocco, Dr. Peter Hunseler, and his assistant, Najat Saher, in Rabat, June 23, 1995. Back.
Note 54: Interview with Amideast Director for Morocco, Sue Buret, in Rabat, July 26, 1995. Back.
Note 55: Discussion with USIS Information Officer Nabil Khoury, in Rabat, July 21, 1995. Back.
Note 56: Interview with Wafa Ouichou, WID Officer, AID Morocco, in Rabat, July 28, 1995. Back.
Note 57: Ouichou interview. Back.
Note 58: Discussion with USIS Cultural Affairs Assistant Laura Berg, in Rabat, July 18, 1995. Back.
Note 59: Belarbi, “Mouvements,” p. 464. Back.
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