Think Forward.

L'immortalité par l'architecture 1380

L’architecture est le moyen par lequel les sociétés restent immortelles. Ainsi, le patrimoine architectural est l’héritage de nos ancêtres. C’est l’ensemble des connaissances et des trésors des générations passées qui ont conduit à notre façon d’être aujourd’hui. De nature, l’humain pense au futur, il cherche a inventer, innover et recréer. Et ce, a partir d’une base d’information qu’il a hérité des générations passées. Face a une ruine, nous passons par plusieurs états d’âme. Nous contemplons, et nous imaginons la ruine dans le passé. Le bâtiment dans son état initial, les techniques et les matériaux utilisés dans sa construction, les activités qui l’animaient et combien de vies a-t-il vécu avant de finir en ruine. Ensuite, nous imaginons cette ruine dans le futur avec une nouvelle existence et son potentiel. C’est là que les questions fusent: Reconvertir? Restaurer? Conserver? Laisser faire le temps? L’histoire raconte la succession des dynasties. Les vestiges racontent leurs modes de vie et leurs manières de diviser et occuper l’espace. Les deux, sont victimes d’oublis car les générations précédentes n’ont pas donné d’importance à ces bâtiments et n’ont pas tenu à les conserver. La nature des matériaux utilisés à l’époque, rendaient la démolition plus simple. Que ce soit pour la nature ou pour la succession de dynasties dont chacune n’a pas voulu préserver le patrimoine de la dynastie déchue. Un autre détail qui pousse a la réflexion est leurs positionnements stratégiques et l’organisation qui s’est installée autours plus tard dans l’histoire. Le patrimoine est aussi une histoire, un impact et un trésor. Une histoire de par ce qu’il raconte. Un patrimoine est souvent quelque chose d’ancien. Des vestiges d’une ancienne civilisation qui nous font voyager dans le passé et nous racontent la vie d’avant. Leurs techniques de construction, les matériaux disponibles a l’époque et leurs manières de diviser et vivre l’espace. Une pièce de monnaie dont les gravures nous informent du souverain de l’époque, de l’élément important de la civilisation de sa date et quel moment de l’histoire appartient la civilisation qui utilisait cette pièce. Un impact, quand les faits qui datent du temps de ce patrimoine résonnent encore à nos jours. Comme est le cas du Torii de « Nagasaki » au japon, qui a survécu aux deux guerres mondiales ainsi qu’au tsunami et tremblement de terre de 2011. D’un effet sur la société comme est le cas des églises baroques. Et enfin, un patrimoine est un trésor de par tout ce qu’il contient, les deux cas discutés juste avant ce qui en fait une trésor immatériel et parfois littéralement un trésor d’une valeur matériel inestimable. De tout cela, nait une sensation d’appartenance et de source. D’avoir un lien avec un lieu ou une communauté. « faire partie » serait le terme exacte. Nous nous « cherchons » et essayons de trouver un endroit ou l’on se sent « chez nous ». Un patrimoine est dans un sens une représentation de ce sentiment. C’est pour cela que nous avons la réaction de le protéger quand il est cible d’une menace externe. C’est après tout notre héritage. Une ruine dans l’histoire était avant tout une réserve de matériaux de construction. «largement considérées comme des ‘‘sites naturels’’ utilisables selon des critères purement techniques. Une ruine, c’est d’abord une masse de maçonnerie dans laquelle on peut tailler, sur laquelle on peut construire» . La notion de patrimoine ne va inclure les ruines que vers le XVIIIè siècle. «lorsque s’affirme pour l’homme lucide du XVIIIe siècle qu’il ne peut plus concevoir une bienveillance universelle» L’homme s’est rendu compte que cet effet de contemplation, d’éblouissement le dépassait et tout ce qu’il pouvait créer. Car la ruine est une œuvre architecturale qui regorge de ressources. «intérêt pour les ruines archéologiques et le gout des fragments architecturaux vont bien au-delà de l’importance historique et artistique que les restes d’un bâtiment donné peuvent avoir; comme les traces éphémères de l’activité humaine sur terre, les ruines sont en fait parmi les icône les plus évocatrices du passé » John Ashurst. une ruine est un livre ouvert sur l’histoire, la technique le matériaux, le savoir de l’époque, la vie de l’époque ,les croyances de l’époque et la situation politique. Des temples découvert aujourd’hui nous raconte la religion qui était pratiqué, il y a des milliers d’années. Des forteresses en plein désert nous raconte les batailles qui y ont eu lieu. Elle continue de d’écrire son histoire à travers sa transformation toujours en cours. Une ruine est ainsi vivante comme le considèrerai Dekkers. La ruine est pittoresque et esthétiquement inégalable. C’est une œuvre d’art vivante. Sa mutation dans le temps nourrit sa valeur. « la plus grande gloire d’un bâtiment n’est pas dans ses pierres, ni dans son or, sa gloire est dans son âge » Ruskin. La ruine et tout bâtiment à caractère patrimonial peut avoir une seconde vie et permettre à son environnement de s’en enrichir. Et ce, avec ou sans toucher au bâtiment d’origine. Dans l’histoire, ses bâtiments servaient de ressources en matériaux de constructions. Apres la décision de les protéger, il a fallut trouver des manière de profiter de ses bâtiments sans pour autant les endommager ou toucher à leur valeur. Les exemples présentés ici viennent de partout dans le monde et représentent différents aspect de la nouvelle vie d’un bâtiment. L’innovation dans l’architecture est sans aucun doute extrêmement importante, mais la préservation et la restauration des anciens bâtiments sont tout aussi importantes car ces vieux monuments sont le reflet de notre histoire, ils nous aident à comprendre et à respecter les personnes qui ont vécu à différentes époques avec des habitudes et des traditions différentes. De même, l’existence de vieux monuments nous aidera à observer les changements dans les sociétés pour mieux comprendre les raisons qui ont conduit au développement des villes et des sociétés et même des traditions jusqu’à l’état actuel. Les vieux bâtiments sont le visage des villes ; ils reflètent les changements qui se sont produits dans une ville au fil du temps, ils reflètent les conflits, les guerres et la prospérité de la société, ils reflètent même la condition économique de la ville au fil du temps. Il faut donc aussi trouver un équilibre entre la nécessité de préserver et conserver, et en même temps de construire et créer. Afin de garantir une activité profitable à la région qui soit aussi stable durant toutes les périodes.
Safaewiv

Safaewiv

Blurring the lines between architecture and story telling.


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Moving away from me 143

By leaving me you exhausted me, and it's cruel Have mercy on me my beautiful You fucked up my passion But one day you'll find your sanity You cross me carelessly Me who loves you and that's all the difference They were beautiful our lovers' kisses If you don't remember them Ask your lips They are still in fever Our bonds were so strong So much so that when our blood squirts We don't know if it's yours or mine Ask the night why these stars despite their splendor And their glow Are not worth that of your smile O moon, if you accompany me in my loneliness ………and if one day I agonize in the meanders of space Tell the darkness that the martyr of love is dead........ and sprinkle stardust on my shroud Dr Fouad Bouchareb Inspired by Farid Al Atrache's song > https://youtu.be/57Xezl_YR6c?si=JVP_kEQZCY8rZbNF All rights reserved

No Religion in Science But Ethics in Citizenship 156

I write these words with deep respect and a sense of emotion. Professor Jamal Fezza my former high school philosophy teacher and later my thesis co-supervisor is currently facing an unfair wave of criticism. And I feel the need to publicly express my support. Those who know him understand how deeply he embodies intellectual rigor, ethical integrity, and an unwavering commitment to what science is meant to be: a space for free thought, beyond identity-based boundaries. In emotionally charged moments, it’s easy to withdraw into national or personal reactions. I know this I’ve experienced it myself. Once, I was faced with a difficult decision, and I chose not to attend a scientific event, out of loyalty to my country. But that decision was mine alone. I never asked anyone else to follow suit, nor did I demand that scientific spaces be shaped to reflect my personal stance. That’s what Jamal Fezza is reminding us of today and that’s what I stand by: science should never be confused with foreign policy. Refusing to engage with researchers based on nationality is not an act of resistance it’s a step away from dialogue and intellectual integrity. This doesn’t mean turning a blind eye to injustice. It means preserving the university as a place where ideas, not identities, are confronted. I am proud to have had Professor Fezza as a teacher, and later as a mentor. But beyond the personal bond, I am above all grateful for the example he continues to set with clarity, honesty, and courage. We need voices like his, especially when they are inconvenient.
youtu.be/RsfDelvjatA

Morocco: Voices of Rebellion, From Najat Aatabou to El Grande Toto... 162

The recent edition of Mawazine did not go unnoticed and will be remembered. There were, of course, tens of thousands of citizens from all over Morocco and beyond enjoying the various stages, with Boutchart’s record simply making them sing along, as well as that great diva singing in playback, provoking the anger of those who cried scam. But above all, there was El Grande Toto. This great star of Moroccan and global urban music, whom many dislike, or dislike intensely. El Grande Toto packed the audience, but also sparked a large number of articles and reactions, mostly unfavorable, with only a few exceptions. The majority of these reactions were rather critical, some almost scathing. *Let me say it straight away: I am not a fan of El Grande Toto nor of his type of music. At my age, it would be an insult to my musical tastes, as I can only be soothed in my Arabic version by Doukkali, Abdelhalim, Belkhayat, Samih, Farid, Oum Kaltoum, and Abdelwahab; in my French version by Brel, Reggiani, Piaf, Barbara; and in my English version by Dylan, Clapton, BB King, James Brown, and many others.* That said, I cannot judge those who dislike him, nor those who love El Grande Toto’s musical genre—that is, all the youth who identify with this style, who resonate with his intonations and rejoice in absorbing his lyrics. It is their time and their music. This reminds me that about thirty years ago, Najat Aatabou could only be heard by accident, passing by a cassette seller’s stall in a souk or secretly in one’s car. Her music seemed annoying and her lyrics vulgar. It took a long time before she was finally accepted, and later adored. What brings me to this topic is that there is something in the artistic trajectories of Najat Aatabou and El Grande Toto that resembles a broken mirror: the shards oppose and scatter, yet, upon closer look, they reflect the same reality. That of a multiple, rebellious Morocco, torn between its traditions and its desires for modernity. A Morocco that thinks it is what it is only little or not really. What it has never truly been except in a falsely constructed imagination. Najat Aatabou is the hoarse voice of the Zemours, the one who emerged in Khémisset, carried by the winds of the Middle Atlas and the whispers of a society still constrained by honor, the gaze of others, and the strictness of conventions. In the 1980s, while the Kingdom was taking its first steps toward social openness, Najat dared to sing what so many women whispered in silence: thwarted loves, betrayal, emancipation, wounded pride, desire—all in rather raw language. Her “Hadi Kedba Bayna” (“It’s an obvious lie”) resonates like a cry, soft but firm, in popular weddings, shared taxis, and the cozy living rooms of the Moroccan diaspora in Europe. With her, chaâbi, the music of the people par excellence, becomes a vector of affirmation. Najat does not apologize for being a woman, an artist, Amazigh, a rebel. She disturbs, sometimes shocks, but she imposes herself. Her music was even used in a global advertisement. Forty years later, it is another Moroccan who shakes the walls of certainties: El Grande Toto, child of Casablanca’s suburbs, dyed hair, tattooed face and arms, and sharp tongue, imposes himself as the bard of an uninhibited Moroccan youth. With him, words snap in darija, intertwine with French and English, flirt unabashedly with taboos: drugs, money, sex, and challenge social hypocrisies. Where Najat Aatabou denounced half-words, Toto displays, claims, provokes. Certainly, the forms differ: Najat draws from the ancestral repertoire, her melodies reminiscent of village weddings and the ululations of yesteryear. Toto, on the other hand, drinks from the sources of global rap, trap, and social networks, where punchlines matter more than silences. But behind these differences, the same sap nourishes their works: the thirst to speak, whatever the cost, without feeling guilty about anything. Najat Aatabou paid a high price for breaking taboos. We still remember the harsh criticisms, the heavy judging looks, the outraged fathers. But time proved her right: she is now respected, even adored, seen as one of the great voices of popular Morocco. El Grande Toto, meanwhile, is still in the midst of the storm. It will take him a long time before he is finally tolerated and accepted. Repeated controversies, court summons, accusations of indecency… Yet, his success does not wane. The numbers speak: millions of streams on platforms, growing international influence, a Moroccan youth that recognizes itself in his anger and dreams. They sing their reality and find themselves in him, whether we like it or not. Ultimately, from the 1980s to today, across centuries, Morocco has never stopped telling its story through its most unsettling artists. There were others before: Zahra Elfassia, Fatna Bent El Houcine, and many known or unknown Chikhates, female voices of the frustrations and hopes of a silenced generation. El Grande Toto, the insolent spokesperson of an urban youth in search of recognition, space, freedom, embodies this spirit today. We must not forget there were others before him: Faddoul, Nass El Ghiwane, Ach Kayne, Rebel Moon, and Lbig, among others. There was also a tradition of rebellion and bold language in malhoun with qassidas that one would no longer dare to sing nowadays, even in the most intimate circles. Between them all, decades and universes, but also this invisible thread that connects those who dare to say out loud what others still keep silent. Perhaps that is what it means to be an artist in Morocco: to shake the established order, to hold a mirror to society, and to accept to pay the price, even if it is too high...

The Smara Attack: A Reflection of Power Struggles in Algeria... 607

The recent Polisario attack on Smara, in the Moroccan Sahara, takes place within a context of deep divisions within the Algerian military hierarchy, which directly influence the policy of the Algerian state. These internal tensions, marked by strategic rivalries, impact the Algiers-Polisario strategy vis-à-vis Morocco. This offensive, targeting notably a MINURSO base and the small airport of Smara, reflects the will of certain sectors of the Algerian army, supporting the Polisario, to challenge the international community and counter American diplomatic pressure, particularly the bill in Congress aiming to designate the Polisario as a terrorist organization. This move also likely reflects a disagreement within the Algiers-Polisario alliance, exacerbated by the request of the Algerian Chief of Staff, Said Chengriha, to return the Iranian weapons supplied to the Polisario, signaling a probable change of course under international pressure. The Polisario, dependent on Algerian authorities for its actions, illustrates through this attack the fractures within the Algerian military hierarchy. Several currents oppose each other: some advocate rapprochement with France, others maintain the historic relationship with Russia, while others seek to appease the United States. These divergences are amplified by regional geopolitical stakes, notably the war in Ukraine, and by Morocco’s rapprochement with Sahel countries, which exasperates certain members of the general staff. Moreover, the concentration of military, political, economic, and diplomatic powers in the hands of General Chengriha fuels tensions with the civilian presidency. President Tebboune, although formally head of state, sees his authority challenged, as demonstrated by the private meeting with Emmanuel Macron held without prior consultation of the general staff, causing a cooling of relations at the top before the ‘president’ was reprimanded. These internal conflicts directly influence the management of the Sahara dossier. The Polisario attack appears as an expression of power struggles: some officers favor an aggressive posture to preserve their influence, while others prioritize caution in the face of risks of diplomatic isolation and sanctions. The increasing integration of the military into the civilian administration, reinforced by a recent presidential decree, illustrates the general staff’s desire to control all levers of power, accentuating the politicization of the army and internal tensions. Finally, the fact that the attack did not achieve its major objectives seems deliberate, constituting a kind of “signature” with Iranian rockets. This gesture can also be seen as a sign of despair from a diplomatically isolated movement and an indicator of divisions at the military top, with some seeking to show that a change of power could open other regional options. This operation, far from unanimous, weakens Algiers’ position and strengthens the arguments of figures like Joe Wilson and Jimmy Panetta. Highlighting that major national decisions occur within a context of internal rivalries within the military institution, a pillar of power in Algeria, no one can believe that the decision to launch rockets against Morocco was made in a unanimous conclave.