Don Conway-Long
Webster University
In March, 1993, Hajj Mustapha Tabit was arrested in Morocco for abusing his power as a
police commissioner by abducting and sexually assaulting hundreds ofwomen over a period
of 13 years. The reaction in the local Moroccan press is examined here, demonstrating a
structure of discourse that blamed female victims, elevated the male offender to a kind of
A Moroccan prostitute displays the henna patterns on her arms. Arab-speaking prostitutes are paid the highest in Dubai.
cult status, and generally contributed to the perpetuation of a sexist subjectivity in a nation
that was only beginning to deal with crimes against women in any organized manner. The
specifics of the case study are placed in the general context of women’s struggle for
emancipation in Morocco.
Key words: masculinity, rape, subjectivity, violence, sexism, Morocco
Correspondence concerning this article should be addressed to Don Conway-Long, Behavioral &
Social Sciences, Webster University, 470 E. Lockwood Avenue, St. Louis, Missouri 63119.
Electronic mail may be sent to dconlong@webster.edu.
The Journal of Men’s Studies, Vol. 10, No. 3, Spring 2002, pp. 00-00.
© 2002 by the Men’s Studies Press, LLC. All rights reserved.
The streets of Rabat were abuzz with the tales of rape, of abuse of police powers, and of breach of
public trust that emerged with the tale of Hajj Mustapha Tabit. It was March 1993, and this powerful
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police commissioner had just been arrested after abusing his authority for dozens of years sexually
violating numerous women and minor girls (International Herald Tribune, 1993, March 16, p. 2).
He was also charged with filming the events for the international pornography trade, making in the
process millions of dirhams (approximately 8 to the U.S. dollar at the time).
The entire country faced, perhaps for the first time, the realities of rape and police abuse, two
issues that seem to increase with the rise of modernity and social complexity. One of the issues most
on people’s minds seemed to be the fact that this man, this official, this demonic rapist, was also a
Hajj, someone who had gone to Mecca in the guise ofa pilgrim, thereby carrying out one ofthe most
cherished duties of a good Muslim. All understandings of the actions with which he was charged had
to be framed in the context of his religious piety. This proved to be a case that had a very familiar
feeling for those who study rape and public perceptions of the crime.
The Tabit scandal, to which I will return, is a classic illustration of the violations of women by
men of power. But, first, let us turn to a general examination of the status of sexual assault in the
cultural world of Morocco. What is the general level of consciousness of this assaultive act? How
did Moroccans talk about it, if they did at all, in Morocco in the early nineties?
I did research in Morocco in 1992-93, spending a great deal of my time in Rabat, the capital,
with trips to Méknès, Casablanca, and Tangiers. I was studying men and masculinities, seeking to
gain a grasp of the ways Moroccan men interpreted and experienced their day-to-day gendered lives,
with a particular focus on their perception of power between the sexes and among men, on work and
family roles, and on their views of violence among men, between men and women, and between
fathers and children.
I asked many people about rape, including two female academics, and received a consistent
answer from them all: rape, while it did exist, was not really a problem in Morocco. The academic
feminists also informed me that rape was not on the feminist agenda. Far more important for
Moroccan women, they said, were issues of access to resources, particularly jobs and education.
This did not mean that they thought that rape was not wrong; they just thought it was not a serious
problem in Morocco, though they did acknowledge the seriousness of the issue in the United States.
It appeared that somehow Morocco was different in their minds from what they perceived as that
alienated, socially corrupt society of the first world. Many seemed to associate the extent of rape in
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the United States with the extent of promiscuous sexual behavior. Since sexual promiscuity was
much less in Morocco, they reasoned, rape in Morocco must be less as well. One friend told me that
most people in Morocco believed rape happened only when a woman’s virginity was forcibly taken
without her family’s permission.
1
My assessment of this unusual perspective is twofold. First, I continue to believe that rape is
underreported worldwide, especially in societies inwhich women’s “issues” have not made the same
moves into the public awareness as has taken place in Europe and North America. (However, I do
not believe that rape is necessarily worse in the third world; the issue here is awareness, not
frequency.) Second, I suspect that the women I spoke with in Morocco do have an important point,
which is that rape does grow worse in circumstances of great social changes, of disruptions of
institutions (particularly familial ones), and specifically when women begin to threaten men’s
purported control of public (and private?) life.
2
This would suggest that the rape rate may be lower in
societies linked more closely by forms of integrated social organization, especially extended family
systems. If this is true, it will also mean that social alienation can exacerbate crimes of violence
against women. On the other hand, the issue of marital rape and battery may simply be more
occluded by the same close family integration. For example, many men in Morocco reacted with
surprise, disdain or disbelief when asked about the concept of marital rape. The belief that it was
impossible to rape one’s wife was common. One well-traveled professor of history, at an event I
attended that included several academics, laughed uproariously about a news report out ofEgypt that
declared the beginnings of a national discourse on the subject. He argued that such claims by wives
were impossible given Islamic law, and that he was quite happy with that impossibility. This recalls
Germaine Tillion’s (1983) argument suggesting that the extended family combined with the
preference for cross-cousin marriage made incest a frequent pattern on the Mediterranean rim.
Women’s sexuality in both circumstances is “owned,” and certainly controlled, by the family,
considered as part of the patrimony of the male line itself; marrying off a sister to a close cousin
1
This is, of course, the biblical point of view, and hence that of the Qur’an as well.
2
On the relationship between rape and social upheaval, see Sanday 1981.
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simply keeps the wealth within the family. But the potential that women could be raped by members
outside of the family leads to closely guarded cloistration, reducing the existence of “real” rape, as
culturally defined by circum-Mediterranean people.
3
However, as Tillion suggests, that same
overprotective cloistration may increase the rate of incestual forms of sexual violence, and may limit
any perception of inappropriateness by the parties involved.
Moroccan society, as a “democratic monarchy,” has certainly not reached the same level of
“democratic oligarchy” so cherished in the UnitedStates. Nor has the extended family been reduced
to near extinction as it has in the U.S., though the first indications of the emergence of the
professional/middle-class nuclear family are increasingly evident in cities. Women are yet not free to
walk just anywhere in public, and, even in the acceptable places, they suffer regular harassment by
day and are hardly seen by night. A woman alone at night is assumed to be a prostitute. A woman
walking with a man at night can be stopped by police and ordered to produce a marriage certificate;
failing that, they are arrested and, if unmarried, can be forced to marry under the assumption that
carnal acts have taken place. Or so goes the street lore, anyway. Several men told me they had
friends who had been forced to marry after being caught by the police with a woman at night. (I can
only assume the stories had some level of truth to them, since I heard them on several occasions,
though I did not interview anyone to whom this had happened.) The fact that this “shotgun
wedding,” if forced on both parties by the Islamic patriarchal state, is likely to produce misery is less
important than its perceived production of social order. It is a curious tale in which the instruments
ofstate power become the arbiter ofpublic morality in a nation in which political authority intersects
with religious authority. But what happens when the politico-religious authority shows itselfflawed,
corrupt, a moral canker?
The Tabit Case
This is the moral uncertainty that surrounded the emergence of the Hajj Tabit case onto the
national scene. Hajj Mustafa Tabit was a high level police commissioner in Rabat who was arrested
in March 1993 for the repeated abuse of his police powers in the crime of abduction and rape of
3
See Estrich's Real Rape (1987) for the origin of this term.
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women; newspapers reported not one victim, not ten, not even 100; he allegedly confessed to
victimizing 1500 women in this manner, though 518 women becamethe figure most frequently used,
since the identity cards of these 518 were found in Tabit’s garçonnière after his arrest (Rocco, 1993,
p. 4). The crime was exacerbated by the fact that he videotaped his crimes, apparently making them
available for an exclusive market in video violence against women. One hundred eighteen videos of
the sexual exploits were recovered, showing Tabit and various professional cronies victimizing
countless women and girls. The entire list of females victimized by Tabit and friends were, curiously
for a police official, kept on a computer file, and therefore discovered easily. The “Affair Tabit” was
the most talked-about scandal, and the lead headline for weeks.
It was greeted as a “windfall for the people of the press,” enabling journalists to emerge fromthe
usual doldrums of their “yoke of silence” to actually report on something important
4
(Smaili, 1993a).
The list of crimes ascribed to Tabit led to salacious discussions in an usually restrained press:
“Rapes, recordings of pornography for decades, seduction of minors, breach of faith and now death
[of a young girl]. Decidedly, Tabit committed all the crimes that he was supposed to combat”
(Chaoui, 1993, p.6). Questions were raised about how many other Tabits were still in the police
departments of the nation (Selhami, 1993a, p.2). The trial was held behind closed doors, with only
the official Channel One television station permitted to report on the proceedings; speculations were
rife that much was being hushed up, especially when Tabit’s alleged remark that he would not go
down alone and that judges should review tape #118, was made public. The government was
accused of seeking to reduce the scandal to a morals case, instead of looking further into overall
police corruption (Selhami, 1993b, p.4).
Blaming the victims
And where was one to lay blame? asked one journalist. “Upon prostitution as a phenomenon, on
prostitutes as sellers ofpleasure, on their purchasers, on the occurrences ofthe commission ofevil or
on the society as a whole?” (Chankou, 1993b, p.8). This article puzzled me. Exactly how could
prostitution be responsible for a thirteen-year-rape spree by a police commissioner? The women
4
Translations from French were done by Joan Benson-Robinson and myself.
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raped were not prostitutes, but wives and daughters ofthe urban elite, petit bourgeois merchants and
white-collar clerks. However, Chankou was not unique in his use of prostitutes as a foil for men’s
behaviors; the discourse on prostitution that I encountered among friends and informants was a
fascinating exercise in the denial of men’s responsibility. I was told that if prostitutes did not peddle
their wares on the street, then men would have no reason to stray from proper monogamous and
Islamic values. It seems clear to me that it is men’s desires combined with the double standard that
create the need for prostitutes to provide sexual services, and not the other way around. It is the same
reversal of cause and effect that is found in Chankou’s suggestions about the origins of the Tabit
affair. Prostitutes became a possible explanation for Tabit’s crimes, a foil for male vice. Chankou
(1993b) continued the argument:
In this erroneous conception of things, all women—whether they are married, engaged or
not—are considered as girls of joy [filles de joie], ready to give themselves to prostitution.
According to this phenomenon, anything can be in some way legalized or acceptable, and
will be tolerated up to yet excluding deflowering virgins or pregnancy. (p.8-9)
There exists in this statement a perspective on women that makes them dangerous to the [male]
social order, yet at the same time incorporates a view that makes men responsible for women (well,
for “good” women, anyway), to protect themfrombeing inappropriately deflowered or impregnated.
Chankou is decrying an improper way of thinking, yet playing simultaneously tosalacious visions of
fitna, the chaos of the uncontrolled female. Social order has been disrupted through a man’s
behavior, yet somehow women were held responsible, because they (as a group, in toto) no longer
remain within the protective realm provided by men. All women are conflated with the prostitute,
each constituting the other in a masterful application of guilt by association, a sort of neo-contagion
theory.
Chankou continues in this vein by arguing that the victims of Tabit went into the situation with
open eyes, and were somehow culpable because they accepted money or favors. In other words, he
denied any use of threats or power to bring about the women’s acquiescence; they somehow profited
from this “abuse of their honor and dignity.” He asks with a rhetorical flourish, “but, did he [Tabit]
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use iron chains to make them enter his cinematic studio? Certainly not!” (1993b, p.9) The women
are culpable, perhaps even responsible for the events under consideration.
It seems evident that some of the response to Tabit’s series of rapes was an attempt to blame the
victims, and beyond them, women as a whole. In a culture that interprets adult female sexuality as a
danger inherent and insatiable if existing outside the marriage bond, this comes as little surprise.
“Has anyone ever seen Satan making someone deviate from the right path? No!” says Chankou.
(1993b, p.9) Satan is unnecessary, for women, according to Moroccan proverbs and tales, can
control the adversary himself.
5
And in the end, it is only the cuckolded husbands and the wounded
parents who have the right to pursue justice to its conclusion, Chankou quotes a “man of the street,”
perhaps as a stand-in for his own beliefs. This article makes a clearly articulated argument for
placing blame on the shoulders of women, both as prostitutes and as willing partners to Tabit, and
for perceiving righteous vindication due to the poor harmed husbands (and parents, though
seemingly as an afterthought) of these blatant offenders of social order. Fiammetta Rocco (1993), a
reporter for The Independent of London, has this to say based on her personal investigation:
Ask any gathering of Moroccans what they feel about the case they inevitably call Tabetgate
(sic.), and a chorus of explanations will come tumbling out. For this is a trial that is about
much, much more than a crime. But the explanations they put forward seem extraordinarily
superficial. Some—quite a few, actually—say the women got what they deserved; others
insist the Tabet (sic.) case was simply an aberration, and thus holds no lessons for the future;
still more will tell you, quite seriously, that this is what happens when you allow your
daughters to go to university. Of Tabet’s abuse of power, there is no mention. (p. 4)
This point of view is quite similar to Sanday’s (1990) concept of sexist subjectivity, which she
applied to a fraternity that had been involved in a gang rape of a “little sister” under the influence of
drugs and alcohol. All of the participants denied wrongdoing, and chose solidarity with the dominant
discourse of the fraternity brothers over any recognition of the subjectivity of the woman, refusing
any empathy with her status as a victim. None of the brothers resisted the dominant discourse of the
5 See for example Kapchan 1996, Rosander 1991, and the classics by Westermarck 1926 and 1930.
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fraternity. They all took the position of blaming the victim of their depredations, excusing their
behavior at the expense of the females who hang out with frat brothers. This, as Sanday herself
points out, can be found in many societies based on male dominance, as if the fact of dominance is
insufficient; it must be shored up by projecting onto the female the responsibility for the desires,
fantasies, and subsequent violent actions of males. This process is central to what we call entitlement
(Crowley, 1993), a central aspect ofthe subjective engenderment ofmen in male-dominant cultures.
Men are at the center, women are the problem; men are privileged by their centrality, women are
disempowered by their peripheral status; men are freed from responsibility for their own behavior,
women are burdened by their ultimate culpability for anything that men do to women. It is an odd
sort of subjectification in that men are constructed to be the acting subjects of their world, yet are not
responsible for their actions, or for the impact of their actions upon others. In fact, it seems as ifmen
construct themselves as the object of women’s sexual power, so that their response to that perceived
power cannot be considered the action of an agent, but must instead be considered the result of
perceived victimization by a female form of subjectification that exists, from a masculine point of
view rather than in any objective reality, in the very fact of her being sexed–and therefore “sexy.”
6
Males and females are engendered subjects, yet in very different ways with dissimilar relations to
power (see Moore, 1994). They are also embodied as sexed subjects/objects, again with very
different relations to power. In the end, men are ableto gain greater leeway for their own dominating
and violent behavior by controlling a discourse thatengenderswomen as the walking embodiment of
sexuality and the cause of all male desire. This is a sadly common, and fascinatingly cross-cultural,
myth of patriarchal societies.
Contradictory Responses to the Rapist
As if this blaming of the victims was not sufficient,there is another wrinkle in the story that must
be addressed. In a parallel discourse to the preceding, Tabit himself was made out by some
commentators to be a virile sex machine. This man who turned to so many other women while he
already had two wives (and children) at home was talked about by some with a kind of breathless
awe; he had “gluttonous appetites,” said one (Salim, 1993, p.9), while Chankou talked of Tabit’s
6 The best example of this can be found in Beneke 1982, in his discussion of ‘Jay’, pp. 20ff.
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“too-full [tropplein] sexuality” (1993a, p.5). His lawyer Mohammed Afrit Bennani, in an interview
following the trial, said,
My client is not a criminal. He is perhaps unwell. He is perhaps even a sick man. He has
powerful urges. He needs sex more than many men. Sometimes for four or five hours a day.
For a man of 54, I admit that is unusual. But that does not make him a criminal (Rocco,
1993, p.7).
Bennani also denied that the violence on the tapes, where blood and beatings were abundantly
evident, was anything other than “normal rough sex . . . but then, you know, some women like that”
(Rocco, 1993, p. 7). Man as penis. Man as taker, as giver ofpain, as violence embodied. And woman
as taken, as prey, as the raped victim who, of course, enjoys it. In the framework of sexist
subjectivity, man is clearly the actor, the producer of power, the one in control. That a rapist can be
respected, even begrudgingly, for his excesses, is a powerful example of the failure to empathize
with the victim of the crime. Failure to empathize with the recipient of one’s violence is a key
feature of sexist masculine subjectivity. Simultaneously with this failure to empathize is the
projection of agency onto the victim, recreating her into culpable aggressor. Assuredly, in this
perspective, men have their cake and eat it too. But once again, this is but one of the multiple
readings of Tabit.
Others, in another interesting twist on the tale, saw him as a vile reflection of the insane
instability that comes from the breakdown of social values caused by Western influence.
7
We need
to recall that this man was a Hajj, ostensibly a pious Muslim who had done all his duties, including
more than one visit to Mecca. Privileged in every way, how then could he stoop so low?, many
asked. In an article accompanying Chankou’s entitled “P for Prostitution, S for SIDA [AIDS],”
Omar Salim (1993) argued, similarly to Chankou, that prostitution was somehow at fault for the
7 This point of view is a common one. In reference to a notorious child murder in Japan, Cameron and
Fraser (1994) note that some commentators wrote that Japan’s recent affluence had caused imbalances in
some people’s minds, and a social scientist argued that it was caused by the “Americanization” of
Japanese society.
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excesses of the Tabit Affair:
Sexual pleasure is a natural right for all men and all women, and it would be extremely
dangerous to put aside this question, especially in these uncertain times where the Islamic
menace is at our doors. The politics of our country has always been very realistic on this in
that it founds itself on, in the celebrated words of Nietzsche, “chase away what is natural,
and it will return at a gallop” (Salim, 1993, p.9).
In addition to implying that rape could be equated with sexual pleasure, this article made Tabit out to
be some kind of natural phenomenon, related somehow to the “necessary evil” of prostitution, which
is plentifully available in Morocco, even if it does not exist officially. The author appears to suggest
that if Tabit and prostitution are comparable expressions of the human need for sexual pleasure,
where after all was the crime? While I agree there is a link between Tabit’s crimes and the existence
of prostitution, I connect the two through the hegemony of men’s predatory sexuality in lieu of
blaming women for both issues, or of dismissing both as mere reflections of sexual pleasure.
But Salim demonstrated his awareness that the supposedly enlightened view he espoused could
in the end be used against Moroccan civil society, worrying that the failure to control prostitution
(“to the level it can be” though not legalized) will lay them open to the Islamic extremists, which
appeared at the time to be the skeleton in the Moroccan political closet.
8
Others also worried that the incident would fuel the Islamist movement, demonstrating the clear
need to prevent the slide into “Western” extravagance and excess by returning to root morals.
Abdelmajid Smaili (1993b), in his article “The Islamists, A Faith Blessed by Excess,” opened by
quoting a fortyish bank official (who did not fit, he stated, the image of an intolerant, bearded
fanatic):
8 Morocco has not had the high level of Islamist activity that its North African neighbors Algeria and
Egypt have had, largely because of the iron fisted control of the late King Hassan, and the linkage of the
monarchy to both politics and religion. The King is “Commander of the Faithful” as well as political
leader. However, Hassan kept close tabs on any Islamic rebellion against his rule, keeping some leaders
of potential movements under house arrest for years.
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Tabit is no surprise to me. We know that, inevitably, a society marked by decaying morals,
the lure of profit and dirty fortunes rapidly amassed, will end by giving birth not only to one
Tabit, but to dozens of monsters in his image. Only the strict application of Sharia [Islamic
law] will eradicate to the root the evil which gnaws at us (p.12).
Such sentiments were frequently stated to me. Just as Smaili notes of his informant, none ofthe men
who said such things to me had “the look of a fanatic” either. And in the article following this
opening set-up, Smaili seems to agree with this thoughtful banker, saying that the society has reaped
“poisoned fruit,” which has comeabout because of the “forced search for equality between the sexes
and a greater opening to the world” (1993b, p.12). Once again, the comments were not so very
different from those I heard repeatedly from men over a year of interviews. But this time, the
comments were not to a lone researcher in a café, but to the reading public at large in a well-
respected newsmagazine. Toward whom, one wonders, was the implied criticism in the last
quotation from Smaili above? Who was doing the forcing, providing the pressure for both an
unwanted equality and a greater openness to the West? In such discourse, the relations between the
sexes were correlated with increased penetration by the West, with all the implications of a global
sexual politics that such terms yield.
9
Morocco’s body politic was portrayed as raped by the forceful
penetration of foreign, Western elements that had no good result; in fact, the fruit of the union was
poisoned. Also in the short statement, the positive developments in the lives of women over the
previous twenty years were perceived as something imposed, unnatural, even non-Moroccan. And
9 An essential part of this perspective I call “gender revanchist.” By this I mean a reactive
response to social change that is common to many fundamentalisms worldwide, as well as many
conservative political positions. Gender revanchism is based on the attempt to reclaim conceptual territory
perceived to have been stolen from men by changes that have benefited women. Placing them back into
their traditional role as guardian of virtue, as the ones responsible for the socialization of children, as the
caretakers of home and hearth is an important political position that most conservatisms share. I found
this point of view repeatedly in Morocco, and have written more extensively about it elsewhere. See
Conway-Long 2000.
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this view was held by someone ostensibly deriding the Islamist movement in the same article as too
extreme, too excessive. It frequently seemed to me to be the case that Islamists were gaining points
without gaining power. Tabit the serial rapist was but another way for at least part of the Moroccan
polity to portray the social changes of modern Morocco as an inappropriate imposition of Western
values onto an Islamic state. But the entire discourse was also a contribution to the sexist
subjectivity of hegemonic masculinity of Morocco–Islamist, African, and post-colonial.
In the end of the trial, Tabit was sentenced to death for his crimes. His father disowned him.
Tabit’s co-defendants received from two years to life in prison; some, particularly a medical doctor
who admitted to repairing the hymens of some victims, were also fined. By the time I left in July,
things had calmed down to a murmur, almost a memory. But I continue to wonder at the long-term
effect of the Tabit affair. As a single incident, it is over, disappearing into the dustbin of history. But
as a reflection of the cultural dialogue on extramarital, non-heteronormative behaviors, it remains as
an exemplar of a specific set of responses to the social changes of the present era. As a discourse on
how Morocco will face the complexities of the modern disruptive events of global economy,
telecommunications and media, it was decidedly conservative, showing a deep-seated tendency
toward gender revanchist perspectives. Women became the enemy of social order, even of free will
in men. Women were linked to the depredations of Western penetration into Morocco. Women, as a
sex-class, were portrayed as prostitutes who draw men astray fromthe straight path. Finally, a serial
rapist who further deteriorated public trust in government by abusing the power of his appointed
office was transmuted by some into an anti-hero, a martyr, though in excess, to the cause of
controlling that unruly and dangerous female sex. Media reporting on the Tabit affair was a reaction
against women’s rights to enter the public space once dominated by men. In much of the common
discourse, one finds denial of subjectivity for the female; the subject position was taken by Tabit
himself at times, other times by husbands, occasionally by parents. Those who were victimized
remained abstractions at best and became the responsible party at worst. Sexist subjectivity (Sanday,
1990) seemed in the ascendant.
Notes
1. This is, of course, the biblical point of view, and hence that of the Qur’an as well.
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13
2. On the relationship between rape and social upheaval, see Sanday 1981.
3. See Estrich's Real Rape (1987) for the origin of this term.
4. Translations from French were done by Joan Benson-Robinson and myself.
5. See for example Kapchan 1996, Rosander 1991, and the classics by Westermarck 1926 and
1930.
6. The best example of this can be found in Beneke 1982, in his discussion of “Jay,” pp. 20-ff.
7. This point of view is a common one. In reference to a notorious child murder in Japan,
Cameron and Fraser (1994) note that some commentators wrote that Japan’s recent affluence had
caused imbalances in some people’s minds, and a social scientist argued that it was caused by the
“Americanization” of Japanese society.
8. Morocco has not had the high level of Islamist activity that its North African neighbors
Algeria and Egypt have had, largely because of the iron fisted control of late King Hassan, and the
linkage of the monarchy to both politics and religion. The King is “Commander of the Faithful” as
well as political leader. However, Hassan kept close tabs on any Islamic rebellion against his rule,
keeping some leaders of potential movements under house arrest for years.
9. An essential part of this perspective I call “gender revanchist.” By this I mean a reactive
response to social change that is common to many fundamentalisms worldwide, as well as many
conservative political positions. Gender revanchism is based on the attempt to reclaim conceptual
territory perceived to have been stolen from men by changes that have benefited women. Placing
them back into their traditional role as guardian of virtue, as the ones responsible for the
socialization of children, as the caretakers of home and hearth is an important political position that
most conservatisms share. I found this point of view repeatedly in Morocco, and have written more
extensively about it elsewhere (see Conway-Long, 2000).
Date a friend in
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