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Travel: Unpublished Journals: Morocco

 

Ashura: A Time for Witchcraft, Gift-Giving and Murder
February 23, 2007

A computer supply store might seem like an unlikely place for a morning witchcraft ritual. But it’s Ashura, a day when Shiite Muslims commemorate the death of Imam Hussein, a small group of radical Sunni Muslims in the Middle East attempt to murder them, and the non-Shiite Moroccan populace pretends it’s Christmas. Regardless of one’s chosen method of “celebration,” witchcraft is foremost in the minds of much of the Moroccan citizenry precisely because spells are purported to be especially effective during the first 10 days of the Muslim month of Muharram.

But the owner of the store has no intention of placing a curse on anyone. He simply requires protection from the spells of others. Business has been slow lately and there are a number of possible explanations: 1) the substandard salesmanship of his underpaid employees 2) a curse placed on him by rival business owners jealous of his success 3) or, the one I favor, an under-stocked store, the unfortunate consequence of not paying distributors on time. But, allegedly, there’s been some physical evidence to support reason two: written curses inside folded pieces of paper found in unexpected places on the sales floor. Thus, on the appointed day, the owner arrives earlier than normal and burns a specific mixture in the store to reverse the curse(s) already in place, protect his business from future spells, and increase sales. Like most educated Moroccans, he’s embarrassed to admit that he’s controlled by the ostensible powers of witchcraft. So his ceremony is conducted in private— or, like last year, with the help of a fkiah who reads an appropriate surat from the Koran to ward off evil spirits —believing accidental discovery of his deeds will reflect poorly on him and the business he is trying to save. Nevertheless, the owner later confessed to his employees that during the ceremony with the fkiah, the furniture in the room began to vibrate and then lift off the ground. But, even if I’m not supposed to know his story, I still can’t help wondering, has business improved? And how would one measure the improvement? Is a good sales day a sign of the ceremony’s success or is a longer period of profit-making required?

“Most Moroccans believe in witchcraft,” Myriam explains to me later, our conversation triggered by an unsightly splotch of congealed blood and wax discarded near the entrance to her apartment, “even educated people who tell you they don’t… And you don’t want to believe in it. But then you see that everyone around you seems to believe in it and you realize that it must have some power.”

For Myriam that power is primarily physical: when she arrives for her usual shift at 3 pm, a subtle but distinct smell of sulfur lingers in the showroom air from her boss’s morning ritual, an odor that triggers an immediate headache, dizziness, and nausea. She returns to her apartment a few hours later disoriented and depressed. “The power is also psychological,” she corrects me when I remind her of this episode. “Suddenly, you feel strange and you don’t know why.”

As Myriam provides more details of these rituals and sketches a more precise picture of the Moroccan ghost world (where spirits reside in the most unlikely of places—the drains of sinks, for example), I begin to draw some conclusions: 1) most of these spells seem relatively mild, the work of jealous individuals seeking to reverse the success of business rivals or punish philandering husbands or wives. 2) Spell casting doubles as a simpler, cheaper palliative for undiagnosed mental illness. Psychoanalysis and psychological support services are still new in this society—an option only for the wealthy—but are unlikely to be utilized by a majority of the population which insists that problems are produced by external sources (i.e. the actions of others) rather than from some inner disorder. 3) Witchcraft will continue to be a popular method of problem solving as long as this fatalistic attitude—that most of our ontological experience is controlled by forces outside of our immediate control—persists in the population. But there’s the darker side of witchcraft, too, stories where fact and fiction overlap to become folklore and legend. There are, for example, internet-sponsored rumors of men who hypnotize unsuspecting adolescents and use them as slaves or an eyewitness account of a group of men who wandered into the ocean with the recently severed hand of a small child, believing that they’d find treasure hidden wherever the blood dripped into the water. The practice of removing the hands of children is rumored to date back to an earlier era, before banks, when people hired someone to watch over their valuables. The “guardian” then capitalizes on their deaths by revealing the location of the “treasure” to the highest bidder. But don’t take my word for it. Similar stories persist all over the internet and almost any Moroccan you meet has a hair-raising story to tell. But what is Ashura really about? That depends on whom you ask and what sect of Islam they represent. The Shia traditionally mark the 10th day of the Muslim month of Muharram with a mournful, sometimes savagely disturbing, commemoration of the death of Hussein, the prophet Mohammad’s grandson killed in a dispute over who should lead the ummah—the Muslim faithful—after the prophet’s death. As almost everyone knows, except the neocons in Washington, Hussein’s death instigated a rift between the Sunni and Shiite sects that persists to this day. As a New York Times article explains: “The Shiites and the Sunnis part company over who has the right to rule and interpret scripture. Shiites hold that only descendants of Mohammad can be infallible and hence should rule. Sunnis allow a broader group, as long as there is consensus among religious scholars.” And there’s also the question of who was, in fact, responsible for the death of Hussein.

The Shia often show their anguish over Hussein’s death by wailing, chest-beating, self-flagellation with whips or chains, or by striking each other with knives or swords. Parents sometimes cut the foreheads of their children. No one knows precisely when this practice originated but it was momentarily outlawed by the supreme leader of the Shia, Abu Al-Hassan, and then revived after his death in the mid-14th century. Muslim self-mutilation was also rumored to have been encouraged by the British during their occupation of India in the early 20th century to justify their “civilizing” presence in the region. If you’re interested in reading more about Shiite Ashura rituals and viewing some disturbing photographs, visit: http://www.allaahuakbar.net/shiites/maatam.htm where the history in this paragraph is drawn from.

But what are the reasons for this public display of self-inflicted violence? Why not mourn for Hussein in private? My Moroccan friends are all Sunni Muslims and thus can’t provide an answer. If they acknowledge the day at all, they give gifts to their children (typically money and clothing) and denounce the practices of their Shiite brethren as a barbaric ritual that “has nothing to do with Islam.” But the same website (in the previous paragraph) offers an explanation: a widespread belief among the Shiite faithful that those who grieve for Hussein are granted a place in paradise after their deaths. “Granted a place by whom?” is the immediate follow-up question, “Allah?” The Koran is obviously silent on the matter.

So where did this idea originate? Was it created to reward the wounds of the faithful who “honor” Hussein each year? If so, is the underlying motivation a place in the afterlife or nothing more than a genuine outpouring of affection for Hussein? Perhaps both. But if you’ve ever seen a videotape of the ritual or witnessed it firsthand, the anguish looks real. But wouldn’t it have to be authentic to convince an omniscient deity to hand out free passes to the next life?

An American co-worker told me about an Ashura processional she recently witnessed in Rabat. What affected her most as she watched was “the flat smell of blood” in the air as the group passed, leading me to believe that no one, aside from the overtly masochistic, would participate in this painful bloodletting if they weren’t serious about their faith and their reverence for Hussein. After all, as Mark Santora explained in another New York Times article on January 31, for the Shia this is “the most formative event of their faith.” But are there other motivations for the ritual? Is it possible that Ashura also serves as a kind of rallying cry against the Sunnis who are blamed for Hussein’s death?

The more radical Sunni sects in Iraq have certainly capitalized on the political opportunities of Ashura and the worsening chaos of that war-torn country, attacking Shiite worshippers after they return from holy sites like Karbala (where Hussein was killed in 680) or Najaf (where he is buried) or as they’re marching in one of their bloody processionals. As the bodies pile up in revenge-based reprisals and protracted political power struggles, as the American army and the Shiite-dominated Iraqi security forces demonstrate their habitual inability to restore order, it’s not difficult to see why a fatalist perspective dominates the thinking of much of the innocent populace caught in the confluence of these deadly forces.

Here in Morocco, however, the war in Iraq seems as remote and under-discussed as it is in the States. People are preoccupied with more personal concerns, like basic survival. But why is witchcraft and spell-casting such a commonplace practice? And, more importantly, why is there so much ill-will, jealousy, and vengeance here among the local Sunni populace even though they face none of the horrors of their Muslim brethren in Iraq? Is it simply an attempt to minimize the effects of a worsening economy, a strategic means of competing for limited jobs, resources, and romantic partners? I’m certain that I would have to live here for the rest of my life before I could begin to answer those questions.

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