As the Francophonie Summit opens in Paris today, La Converse looked at the use of French in urban Morocco. Casablanca is no exception to a recent linguistic phenomenon: for a long time predominant in Morocco, the French language is losing its brilliance in favour of English, adopted by a generation proud of its culture, open to the world and who wants to free themselves from post-colonial ties.
Casablanca, end of September. In a cultural centre, young people attend the screening of Quebec short films subtitled in English, before engaging in a discussion... in English. A scene that would have seemed improbable less than 10 years ago, in a city where French has long been the preferred language of a certain cultural environment.
Understanding the evolution of foreign languages in Morocco cannot be done without contextualizing the country's linguistic landscape. Darija, Moroccan Arabic, is used in daily life, with borrowings from several languages, including Tamazight, Morocco's Indigenous language. It is distinct from literary Arabic, which is the written and official language, especially used in speeches, the press, and education, and common to all Arabic-speaking countries.
A perpetual debate exists in Moroccan society: some plead for the recognition of Darija as a language in its own right, because of its marked differences with classical Arabic, while others fear that this would weaken the use of literary Arabic, the language of education, the Muslim religion, and official texts.
As for French, nearly 70 years after Morocco's independence, it remains very present in several social spheres, although it has never had the status of official language. It is one of the languages of public administration, education, and the media, among others. But, in the last 10 years, we have seen and heard the English language much more in Morocco, on social networks, in bookstores, or on the terraces of cafes.
An anchor in their Moroccan identity
This strong emergence of English is accompanied, in parallel, by a form of distance from the French language, closely linked to a desire to revive and proudly claim Moroccan culture. For Ibtissam Ghazoui, cultural manager of the American artistic centre in Casablanca, it is not a question of replacing one foreign language with another, but of detaching ourselves from a culture and a language that “has been imposed on us, while English is a language that we have chosen.”
“Valuing and celebrating our Moroccan culture allowed us to realize what colonization caused us,” she adds. “Before, speaking French was a symbol of social and intellectual status. That is no longer the case today.”
In a country where the local cultural offer is minimal, foreign cultural diplomacy fills the void. The American artistic centre, opened less than two years ago, is quickly establishing itself as the city's flagship cultural space.
Unlike French cultural institutes, here, we speak Darija. Dance and writing workshops are offered in Darija and English. Most of the participants are teenagers who skateboard from popular neighbourhoods in Casablanca, such as Hay Mohammadi, Sidi Moumen, or Ain Sebaa.
With a degree in cultural policy and management, Ibtissam notes that several artists want to develop Moroccan culture, rather than trying their luck abroad, like a generation of French-speaking North African authors and musicians who aspired to succeed in France. “Recently, there was a very interesting realization of our own identity,” she explains.
Learning French is still “a privilege in Morocco”
This is especially the case for Khtek. At 29, the rapper is naturally confident, without falling into arrogance. Like many Moroccans of her generation, her sentences mix up to three languages at the same time. She meets us in a café in Old Maarif, a district in the centre of Casablanca. Houda — her real name is — chose her stage name Khtek, which means “Your sister,” to reappropriate this expression that is too often pejorative in the macho world of rap.
The young woman grew up in a middle class family that encouraged her to read and write in French. “At home, it was an important language to learn,” she says. As a teenager, this lover of French-speaking literature devoured books, from Milan Kundera to Amin Maalouf. Then she started getting interested in American music and movies. “I started to love English. I wrote letters to Kurt Cobain in my diary. I was learning songs by heart. I printed out the lyrics of the songs and tried to understand what they meant. That's how my level improved.”
Later, the language nourished her passion. “It is thanks to English that I rap today,” she explains. "It is by discovering American hip hop and being able to understand this culture that I rap today. The first song that inspired me was 'Suicidal Thoughts' by Notorious Big. If I didn't speak English, this song would surely never have captivated and touched me so much.”
Today, she is aware of the privilege of having learned French outside of public school, at home or through private lessons. “In Morocco, learning French is a privilege since the level of French is low in public school.”
For many digital native Moroccans, English is an easier language to master, compared to French or literary Arabic. It also allows greater openness to the world, and the Internet and social networks have accelerated this enthusiasm.
Entisar, a 36-year-old Moroccan-Iraqi woman, is calm, radiant and exudes a natural serenity. She remembers getting closer to English long before the arrival of the Internet in Morocco. At the age of 10, she stumbled across an old English book at her aunt's house and learned a few words. “At that time we had no internet or cell phones. There was nothing to do, so we kept busy as we could.”
As a teenager, her family lived in Baghdad for two years. This is where she took her first English lessons at school. “The first thing I liked about the English language was that common nouns don't have gender. There is no male or female. It was a revelation for me.”
But while the desire to use English more in Morocco is becoming more and more felt, especially among young people, this does not necessarily translate into the field, especially in the world of education. Nevertheless, Morocco hosts — after Lebanon — the second largest network of the Agency for French Language Education Abroad (AEFE). These schools, located internationally, offer education in accordance with the French education system. In Montreal, for example, Collège International Marie-de-France and Collège Stanislas fall under the AEFE.
In Morocco, the Majority of students enrolled in these schools are of Moroccan nationality or bi-national. Among them, Driss did all his schooling in a French school in Marrakech. He is one of those young Moroccans born to Moroccan parents and living in Morocco who only speak French at school and at home.
The young man with impeccable French has just celebrated his 18th birthday. Poised, he exudes a serenity and maturity that are rare for his age. This autumn, he started a course entirely in English at Al Akhawayn University in Ifrane. “I did not have much difficulty having to change my language because my English is not bad.” It is not so much in class that Driss has difficulty communicating, but rather with the rest of his classmates who, for the most part, speak Darija. “Now, I have more trouble because my Arabic is not very good,” he explains.
French: “spoils of war*” or a necessary evil?
In Moroccan private schools, generally, half of the courses are given in Arabic and the other half in French. In the Moroccan public education system, French is taught more than English. But the level is still quite low. Rajae, 35, teaches French for all ages. The youngest of his students are often children who study in public schools and whose parents want to offer additional French language education.
As for teenagers, Rajae is used to hearing them say that they don't want to learn the colonizer's language. “When I see that they're not interested and I ask them why they don't want to make an effort to learn while they're in French class, I'm told: 'I'm here just because I have to be, but what I want to do is learn English. I'm here just to be able to take my exams.'”
Adults, on the other hand, seem to be much more involved in learning, in order to progress professionally and climb the ladder. “Don't fool yourself,” explains Rajae. "We are in Morocco. It is true that more and more people speak English here, but we are still very far from becoming a country where English is the first foreign language. In the meantime, you must be able to guarantee yourself a professional future.”
Decolonizing social relationships
At the beginning of 2024, on a radio set of the French program Planet Rap relocated to Casablanca, Khtek is improvising a piece. She gives the camera filming the scene a middle finger while rapping : “F**k the colonists, hna kandwiw b'darija” [F**k the colonists, here we speak Darija, editor's note].
Although she maintains an affinity for the French language, her interest in decolonial thought has led her to question its use in public space. “When a Moroccan does not make the effort to speak Darija and wants to impose on the rest of Moroccans to speak French in their own country, for me, it is a colonialist approach. We socially exclude people who have a pronounced accent in French or who do not master the language.”
This observation is confirmed by Entisar. “In my experience, French is synonymous with classicism. Even in terms of services [hotels, shops, etc.], when you speak in Darija, you are not treated in the same way as if you speak in French. I still speak French, but if given the choice, I would prefer to speak another language.”
According to Khtek, the rejection of the French language is “an unconscious rebellion of the new generation.” She believes that the existence of a French-speaking elite in Morocco is “a damage of colonialism”. In Morocco, she sometimes gets corrected when she speaks French. In a society where you can be despised for not mastering a foreign language that is also poorly taught in public schools, Khtek is delighted to see young people from working-class neighbourhoods learning English through music or the Internet.
“When an older person wants to force them to speak in French, to say that he or she speaks English and not French, I think that's powerful. (...) It is a counterattack, because it is a violence to force people to speak a language that they did not have the chance to learn and to see them as less than nothing because of it,” says Khtek.
Using the colonization argument to defend a linguistic choice may seem incoherent when the alternative is the language of the British and the Americans. But for Khtek, “since English is accessible, I don't have a problem with this language. You can learn it by yourself, easily, just on social media and by watching YouTube, and getting to know it is not classist. Even though England colonized several countries in the world, we have a different relationship with this language.”
A more accessible language? She explains: “It is accepted to have an accent. All over the world, people speak English with different accents. And it's easier to learn.”
Spain also colonized northern and southern Morocco, but France's influence on Moroccan society is more “toxic”, according to the rapper. Toxicity that produces emissions: “You can notice it even in soccer. A Moroccan who has no idea what decolonial thinking is, who has never read Frantz Fanon, while watching a Spanish soccer match against France, will encourage Spain. We are literally enjoying the defeat of France.”
Oussama, 31, prefers to put forward logical arguments rather than emotional ones. For this French teacher, the argument of colonization should not interfere with the choice to communicate in this language or not. “Yes, it was the language of the colonizer, but if we have to make choices, we should not rely on arguments of hate, even if it is part of our history and we do not appreciate what happened. You have to be reasonable now, and we are in the 21st century. You don't forget the past, but you act logically by thinking about things reasonably.”
Sometimes, a debate takes place in his class, with his adult students: “a lot of people don't like French, and put forward this argument. For example, I would be in favour of using English more, because it is a simple, more open language and gives access to many more countries, for studies or for work. You have to put forward logical arguments rather than thinking about this question emotionally.”
Nevertheless, Khtek remains pragmatic: “In a professional context, I sometimes speak French. It's a conscious choice: since it's impressive for some people, I do it. If speaking French impresses you and you double my fee, I will speak it.”
The world in V.O.
Before the arrival of the Internet in Morocco, the foreign art and culture that Moroccans consumed came mainly from Egypt or France. As for English-speaking films, literature and music, Moroccans discovered them mainly through French channels, where the works were dubbed or translated. What caused a sensation in France also found its place in Morocco, but often with a lag, limiting the exposure of Moroccans to English-speaking culture in all its diversity.
Direct access to English-speaking cultures through the Internet has changed consumer habits and forced several sectors to adapt their offer to the new expectations of the Moroccan public. Until very recently, American movies in movie theaters were only available in French. Today, several sessions in original version with French subtitles are available daily.
On the media side, some newsrooms now have English-speaking teams. Information sites Hespress And TelQuel have English language versions of their websites. The public channel Al Aoula is also said to be in the process of developing An English news channel.
On the reading side, the Carrefour des Livres has long been the reference French-language bookstore in Casablanca. Today, almost half of its shelves contain books in English, ranging from classics to the most recent novels and personal development books. Ten years ago, there were no books in English in Morocco, but today, several bookstores and distributors import books in English.
For Yacine Retnani, owner of Carrefour des Livres, the trigger was initially financial. With more competition — especially digital bookstores — and the Covid crisis, they had to adapt and find a way to survive. “English and Arabic saved us because if we had clung to our French-speaking customers who gradually disappeared or who went elsewhere, we would have closed.”
Mariam Benabdellah, 27, is thrilled to see a young clientele at Carrefour des Livres. The bookseller always has a big, warm smile. She is welcoming and gives visitors time and space to stroll through the bookstore. Young people now make up almost 80 per cent of its customers. “They buy several books at once, they are ready to spend up to 500 dirhams (about $70) to buy books.” ***
The bookstore literary season is now replaced by BookTok**. It is also thanks to the store's recently created TikTok account that this English-speaking clientele discovered it. “We did not lose French-speaking readers for English-speaking ones, but we found a new clientele that did not know us,” explains Yacine Retnani. “We've been on the same street for 40 years and now we have people coming back who didn't know about the existence of the bookstore because it was a bookstore labelled as French-speaking.”
Open up to the world
For Rajae, “speaking multiple languages opens a lot of doors. It also opens the mind and the way you think. By learning a language, you discover another culture.” His mastery of French made it easier for him to get a job while his command of English allowed him to study abroad.
Yacine Retnani encourages this openness to the world. In addition to being the owner of a bookstore, he is also the director of the publishing houseLa Croisée des Chemins. “It was totally logical and coherent for me to introduce Moroccan authors who write very good texts in English to young people who will read in English and follow social media trends.” The first novel in English published by La Croisée des Chemins is The House on Butterfly Street, by Mhani Alaoui. Since then, the publisher has received about 15 manuscripts in English and plans to publish other English-speaking Moroccan talents.
This is no doubt a source of joy for Khtek. “The best language in the world for me is Darija, even though many consider it a dialect and not a language,” she concludes. What is certain is that English is taking up more space in Morocco. But when it comes to French, there seem to be as many opinions as there are Moroccans. In the meantime, young people are perfecting their ability to juggle languages, often unconsciously, depending on the context.
* The quote “French is our spoils of war” is from the Algerian writer Kateb Yacine. It refers to the complex relationship that Algerians maintained with the French language after colonization. Although French was the language of the former colonizer, Kateb Yacine saw it as a cultural heritage that Algerians could appropriate and use to express themselves about their struggles and identities.
** Community on TikTok dedicated to book recommendations and discussions
*** The average price of a novel is around 17 dollars