Moroccan Debates

I was chatting to a guy working in a Moroccan ministry the other day over lunch, and we ended up spending about an hour talking about language (as often seems to happen with me). The whole situation in many Arab-speaking countries is not something to which I had given much thought in the past, but it’s certainly noteworthy.

You may already know, or you may not, that there is a ‘classical’, old Arabic, the Arabic of the Koran, which is still used today in writing and for official purposes, whilst the Arabic spoken everyday by the population differs from region to region. What people speak are essentially dialects, they have never had a written form, and although they are often mutually comprehensible, the further away you go, the less likely you are to understand another Arab speaker.

So someone from Morocco has little trouble chatting with an Algerian, but far more problems communicating with a Palestinian. Of course they can revert to the classical form to understand each other, but from what I gather this feel weird to them, overly formal, and often badly adapted for every-day conversation. It is the language of Presidential speeches and university exams rather than of commerce and play.

So what I asked my Moroccan acquaintance was when this classical Arabic was taught to children, and it turns out that they basically start learning it as a sort of foreign language as soon as they start primary school. It’s not a language they would hear at home or in the street, but it’s nevertheless the language in which they will have to sit all their oral exams, the one they will have to use for formal occasions and when filling in admin (unless it’s in French, often still the administrative language in this part of the world).

It’s not so different from the local dialect known as Darija, but it’s still not the same. I started thinking how this seemed like a strange linguistic situation to be in until I remembered that a vast proportion of the American population find themselves in exactly the same situation. The African-American dialect has rhythms, vocab, syntax, and grammer all of its own. It is spoken at home and in the street by millions of people but it has never had a written form, and for official purposes, African-Americans will “switch” to SAE (Standard American English). We’re not so different after all.

But interestingly, Darija is slowly gaining ground in Morocco. A few magazines are being published in it, which basically means reinventing a writing system to match the needs of the dialect. I’ve been told it takes some getting used to. In the media and advertising it is already widely used. And now in politics too, the idea that the spoken Arabic should be used more widely in the public sphere is becoming a divisive issue. One of the problems here would be defining which spoken Arabic to use since the dialects differ from town to town. Using classical Arabic avoids the problem of discrimination.

As always, however, the youth is paying little attention to these endless debates and creating a form of communication all of their own. Already they use a mix of French and Arabic in speech, and this particular style has now developped into a written form used for virtual communication. More and more it’s also being taken up by advertisers aiming their products at the youth market. Since teens often use the latin alphabet to phonetically spell out words in Arabic (makes it quicker to text I imagine), they have also started substituting numbers for sounds which only exist in Arabic, as these mimic the letters of the Arab alphabet.  Some gutteral sounds are now represented in text chat by the numbers 7 and 9, which when laid down on their side look a little like the Arabic letters used for those sounds.

I do love the inventiveness and creativity of the young, but if you’re interested in the heated politics behind it all, you can read more about it here on Aljezeera. In any case it’s a linguistic developement worth keeping an eye on in the coming years.