I Love Hip-hop in Morocco

            Hip-hop has long been regarded as American music, born from the ghettos of New York and defined by the developments and innovations of American artists. Its lyrics and musical style have meant many things to different people; however, since its beginning, hip-hop has always been more or less an edgy, free flowing experiment, working to redefine traditional ideas about music, expression, and style. Although, as explained in the documentary film I Love Hip-Hop in Morocco, hip-hop is no longer solely an American experience. A hip-hop movement has been growing in Morocco for some time, and with that, come the same ‘American’ ideas about freedom of expression and redefining traditional cultural, mainstream views. The far-reaching effects that this music style can bring into a country such as Morocco has the potential to initiate a tremendous amount of constructive change and much needed innovation into the country’s current social and economic depression.

            The documentary I Love Hip-Hop in Morocco follows a group of Moroccan hip-hop artists as they struggle against financial limitations and cultural stereotypes in an effort to hold the first ever hip-hop music festival in Morocco. Their battle and the reasons behind their battle is incredible illustration of the potential these young people have in instigating change and reform in their culture. Most of the hip-hop artists in this film admit to feeling an unbearable lack of freedom, and hip-hop, for them, is a means of compensating for that. Members of H-Kayne, the most popular hip-hop group in Morocco, spoke of their music as a means of escape, a way to express personal views and convey a message indirectly to a larger audience. In a county that lacks the freedom of speech, hip-hop has become a way of expressing oneself. A group of teenagers interviewed on the street held similar opinions on hip-hop and equate the freedom the music provides with the freedom available in America. Another artist from the group Mot de Passe likened a rapper with a messenger, and to him, hip-hip speaks the truth. Free speech seems to be a dream for many Moroccans, admittedly a seemingly impossible dream, and hip-hop, to some extent, fulfills that dream. After listening to these people speak about hip-hop and America, it is clear that at the semiotic level, hip-hop is a sign for America; America is then a sign for free speech and free expression. Following the sign-object chain, the acceptance of hip-hop in Morocco can lead to end interpretant of wider acceptance of free speech and free expression in Morocco.

            Hip-hop can work not only to redefine what is and is not socially and politically acceptable but, as seen in the story of Fatishow, it can also play an incredibly powerful role in redefining gender stereotypes. Fatishow was the first female rapper in the country ever to perform on stage, and she did so at the “I Love Hip-Hop in Morocco” music festival. As the video shows, when she first steps on stage with her singing partner Amine, the crowd boos and refuses to clap for her. To them, a woman is a cultural sign for a quiet, domestic homemaker, or what have you; anything but a hardcore rapper performing on stage. Fatishow, however, stands her ground and lays down her rhymes. By the end of her act, the crowd is cheering genuinely and enthusiastically. In her performance, she proved herself to be a strong, assertive, and confident young woman, and by doing so, she has provided a new personal index for the thousands of people at the concert. Probably for the first time in many of those people’s lives, they witnessed a female figure in public filling a ‘man’s role,’ and furthermore, she was doing so equally as well or perhaps better than her male peers. From the concert itself, this was one of the most immediate, visible effects of the potential hip-hop has for true cultural reform in Morocco, and this potential is something that should be celebrated and promoted in countries such as this.

            The hip-hop artist DJ Key, founder of the Original Hip-Hop Association and pioneer of hip-hop in Morocco, admitted to feeling a sense of conflict when he attempts to reconcile his Islamic religion with the American hip-hop music he loves so much. In the eyes of some, hip-hop is forbidden, and for DJ Key, he sometimes feels blocked by this part of his faith. He has no answer to provide on the issue, simply concluding with acknowledgement of the struggle. To many, the reconciliation of these seemingly contradictory concepts- Islam and Western hip-hop- is impossible.

            However, it is important to see that hip-hop is no longer a foreign music style; it is no longer solely American. These Moroccan artists have taken it and transformed it into something new, something very much Moroccan. Hip-hop may not have been Moroccan before, but it certainly is now.

            Too often in the discourse surrounding American foreign policy there is a definitive good guy and bad guy, and if you are not with us, you are against us.  If a country is not pro-Westernization, then it must be pro-Islamization. Morocco, however, reveals a third option that should be considered and valued in American foreign policy. The American Embassy worker in the documentary said that his mission was to promote the understanding of American culture and values in Morocco, and that was one of his reasons for valuing and agreeing to help fund the “I Love Hip-hop in Morocco” music festival. Certainly, this is a worthy goal; the shared love of hip-hop in the United States and in Morocco provides the beginnings of a bridge for mutual understanding and cooperation. It is worth noting, however, that encouraging the growth of a strong, vibrant, young, open-minded population of Moroccans for the sake of a stronger, more vibrant, open-minded Morocco is a loftier goal for everyone to work towards.

There is a powerful underling message in the documentary of the need for Moroccans to find their own voice. Not an echo of America’s voice, or a repetition of Islam’s voice. There is a moving scene in the documentary in which the hip-hop rapper Brownfingaz goes back to his home city and marvels at the bareness of the streets and emptiness of his neighborhood. He speaks of the strength of the walls of his home, walls that have stood for hundreds of years, which have now been abandoned for shoddy American-style homes in the suburbs. His father says that every parent wishes for his or her children to be able to leave Morocco to find a better life. There is an incredible need for Moroccan pride and Moroccan culture that is not seen in the documentary. Perhaps hip-hop is the way in filling some of that need or perhaps providing the necessary encouragement for the growth of something else that can fill that need.

America has a vested interest in the promotion of hip-hop and other such cultural movements around the world. Why should trillions of dollars be spent killing innocent civilians and decimating cities when a mere $10,000 could be used to provide the opportunity for over 36,000 Moroccans to join together and sing songs about standing up against terrorism? Because that’s what they did, and that is what needs to be encouraged and promoted in the Middle East, if any foreign aid is to be provided at all. Because the United States Embassy helped fund the “I Love Hip-hop in Morocco” music festival, America’s name has now had a powerful association with a positive and successful event. Instead of seeing the flag painted on the side of a tank, the American flag was seen waving in the crowd at the concert. Hip-hop can be utilized as a catalyst for change and development of new indexical clusters; old habitual thinking can be opened to new ideas, and in this way, Morocco and other countries like it across the global can make true progress towards peace and economic prosperity.