Bread and circuses versus the clash of ignorance; Moroccan state's promotion of cultural festivals hangs from a political skeleton

Beirut -- CASABLANCA: If you were under the impression that Muslims have something against music, the sheer number of summer music festivals around the Middle East and North Africa might come as something of a surprise. Morocco provides a case in point.

The Casablanca Festival turns Morocco's commercial capital into an urban Woodstock, with masses of young people clogging the mosque-filled streets and partying to the pulse of hip-hop, rock, pop and Arab music. An estimated 2 million people attend free concerts at a dozen venues, many snapping up the action on their cell phones.

Casablanca's is only one of about 400 yearly festivals sponsored by authorities across that country, not to mention the sports, dancing and singing contests organized on popular beaches every summer.

The Moroccan state's promotion of cultural events and leisure activities hangs from a political skeleton.

The country's increasingly powerful Islamist groups view it as a deliberate attempt to deviate youth from traditional Islamic values. Even some government officials admit the aim of the merrymaking is to promote the liberal values they'd like to see society embrace rather than radical Islam.

Not surprisingly perhaps, most youth say they don't see it that way. They just enjoy the free music and the opportunity to party in this country of 34 million where unemployment is particularly high among young adults and where parents usually keep a tight grip on their children.

"I like these concerts ... the artists are role models for young people," said 19-year-old Fadoua Hakki at a hip-hop event in Casablanca. Oumaima, 17, praised the "great strides" made by the new generation of home-grown Moroccan rap singers. "They're very good," she said, "and they voice our concerns."

The streets full of trendy teenagers dancing to the Tecktonik craze that has swept Europe stand in striking contrast to the near-medieval living conditions in Morocco's countryside or the sprawling slums around Casablanca, which have become a hotbed of Islamism.

Such festivals would be unheard of in more rigorously conservative Muslim states, where the mixing of boys and girls, free sale of alcohol or even dancing in public can be forbidden.

Like all those states in the MENA region habitually termed "moderate," Morocco has strong economic and political ties to the West and is a major tourist destination. Like them, Morocco prides itself on a cultural diversity that allows scantily clad girls to attend a concert side by side with women wearing Islamic headscarves.

Artists in Casablanca this year included international reggae and hip-hop stars. The yearly Gnaoua Mystical Music Festival in the resort town of Essaouira attracts top jazz and rock players. In Rabat, Morocco's capital, this year's edition of the Mawazine World Music Fest (a stone's throw from King Mohammed VI's palace and under his direct patronage) included Whitney Houston for her return to the stage, jazzman George Benson and French electro DJ David Vendetta.

Organizers say bringing in big names to festivals reflects Morocco's traditions of mixing cultures and people from Europe and Africa. "That openness can only continue if there is an exposure to cultures from the rest of the world," said Ahmad Ammor, the head of the Casablanca Festival organizing committee. "It's part of the king's project for society, that's why you see a festival in nearly every town."

With a budget of about $3.18 million, Ammor's festival remains the largest in Morocco. Like many official events in Morocco, it is half funded by public money and half by large companies close to the state. Ammor says he works for free, presiding the rest of the time over a subsidiary of the national carrier Royal Air Maroc.

Morocco's attitude toward summer festivals may be unique in financial support the state provides, but the concept is in step with that of other "moderate" states in the region, seeking to add value to the archaeological and natural sites in order to lure more Western tourists in the summertime.

In the Hashemite Kingdom this year, the principal platform for such activity was the Jordan Festival. Between July 8 and August 9, Amman, Jerash, and the Dead Sea provided venues for shows by such Arab performers as Amr Diab, Ragheb Alameh, George Wasouf, Faudel, Biyouna, Cheb Khaled and international artists like Placido Domingo, Monica Yunus, Jazz celebrity Diana Krall and British-Lebanese pop star Mika.

The festival also attracted press attention and boycott threats when rumors surfaced that the events organizer behind the festival had also worked on Israel's 60th anniversary celebrations.

In its profile and line-up, the Jordan Festival very much emulated a successful prototype used in Lebanon but largely becalmed by the political vagaries visited upon that country since the 2006 summer war.

The Byblos Festival, tucked in its Christian enclave and so largely free of the sectarian-political stresses felt elsewhere in Lebanon, was the first to clamber to its feet. The 2008 season witnessed the return of Byblos' high-profile models - the Baalbek and Beiteddine International Festivals - as well as a host of smaller festivals whose programs range from heritage events and to pop musicians and DJs.

Security is a major concern at such events and a massive police presence is visible Morocco's public events. Organizers say unruliness is rare at Morocco's summer festivals, noting that parents often attend with their children and then take them home.

Many have qualms with all this revelry, however. Some critics say funding the stars' contracts costs the state a fortune. Others deplore the import of Western music such as rap, which they accuse of corrupting Moroccan youth. Others still say the large spring festivals are badly timed because they interfere with exam periods.

"There are too many festivals in Morocco," said Zine Eddine Bekkal, a Casablanca shopkeeper. "As soon as one finishes, another starts. No wonder young people don't read anymore."

The most vocal critics are usually affiliated with Islamist groups, who hold growing sway in Morocco. The gap between the educated, wealthy and Westernized elite and the vast majority of the impoverished population has been widening.

"We stand against the debauchery observed during these festivals," Abdelilah Benkirane, said on a state TV talk show. Benkirane leads Morocco's biggest authorized Islamist group, the Justice and Development Party.

"Have you seen the type of groups they invite?" he was quoted as saying by the liberal-leaning "TelQuel" weekly magazine. "The suggestive, scantily clad women?"

More hard-line Islamist groups, like the semi-legal Justice and Charity movement - regarded as the largest in Morocco - see more than bad morality to the partying.

"It's not only dissolute, it's cynical," said Nadia Yassine, spokeswoman for the movement and the daughter of its founder, Sheik Yassine.

"It's like ancient Rome: bread and circus to keep the masses happy," she said, accusing the state of trying to divert public attention from Morocco's lasting problems, such as unemployment, poverty and corruption.

Moroccan government officials say the drive for culture comes within a wider plan to improve public education and build new infrastructure throughout the destitute hinterland.

They also gingerly admit they are waging a struggle for the hearts and minds of the country's youth.

One high-ranking Interior Ministry official - who spoke anonymously because this is not a publicly avowed government policy - recalled how some Islamists began speaking out against public beaches. Groups walked the seafront to preach for better morals and fewer bikinis, or set up segregated areas.

"No one wants to be bothered on the beach" he said, "so people began shying away."

He added that the government's reaction was to promote sports and leisure activities as well as song and dance contests on beaches during the summer.

"Sure, this bothers the 'bearded ones,'" the official grinned, using a slightly derogatory slang to refer to Islamists because of the long beards they often grow.

Ammor, the festival organizer, said the state was on a mission to make Morocco a place where Arab and Western cultures can interplay, rather than dwell on the growing tensions of the last decade.

"People call it a clash of civilizations," he said. "I think it's a clash of ignorance." - With The Daily Star