Think Forward.

DRACULA - CHAPTER I JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL [3/5] 1993

Bluwr X Commons: Bram Stoker, 2 y.
3 min read.
I soon lost sight and recollection of ghostly fears in the beauty of the scene as we drove along, although had I known the language, or rather languages, which my fellow-passengers were speaking, I might not have been able to throw them off so easily. Before us lay a green sloping land full of forests and woods, with here and there steep hills, crowned with clumps of trees or with farmhouses, the blank gable end to the road. There was everywhere a bewildering mass of fruit blossom—apple, plum, pear, cherry; and as we drove by I could see the green grass under the trees spangled with the fallen petals. In and out amongst these green hills of what they call here the “Mittel Land” ran the road, losing itself as it swept round the grassy curve, or was shut out by the straggling ends of pine woods, which here and there ran down the hillsides like tongues of flame. The road was rugged, but still we seemed to fly over it with a feverish haste. I could not understand then what the haste meant, but the driver was evidently bent on losing no time in reaching Borgo Prund. I was told that this road is in summertime excellent, but that it had not yet been put in order after the winter snows. In this respect it is different from the general run of roads in the Carpathians, for it is an old tradition that they are not to be kept in too good order. Of old the Hospadars would not repair them, lest the Turk should think that they were preparing to bring in foreign troops, and so hasten the war which was always really at loading point. Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Land rose mighty slopes of forest up to the lofty steeps of the Carpathians themselves. Right and left of us they towered, with the afternoon sun falling full upon them and bringing out all the glorious colours of this beautiful range, deep blue and purple in the shadows of the peaks, green and brown where grass and rock mingled, and an endless perspective of jagged rock and pointed crags, till these were themselves lost in the distance, where the snowy peaks rose grandly. Here and there seemed mighty rifts in the mountains, through which, as the sun began to sink, we saw now and again the white gleam of falling water. One of my companions touched my arm as we swept round the base of a hill and opened up the lofty, snow-covered peak of a mountain, which seemed, as we wound on our serpentine way, to be right before us:— “Look! Isten szek!”—“God’s seat!”—and he crossed himself reverently. As we wound on our endless way, and the sun sank lower and lower behind us, the shadows of the evening began to creep round us. This was emphasised by the fact that the snowy mountain-top still held the sunset, and seemed to glow out with a delicate cool pink. Here and there we passed Cszeks and Slovaks, all in picturesque attire, but I noticed that goitre was painfully prevalent. By the roadside were many crosses, and as we swept by, my companions all crossed themselves. Here and there was a peasant man or woman kneeling before a shrine, who did not even turn round as we approached, but seemed in the self-surrender of devotion to have neither eyes nor ears for the outer world. There were many things new to me: for instance, hay-ricks in the trees, and here and there very beautiful masses of weeping birch, their white stems shining like silver through the delicate green of the leaves. Now and again we passed a leiter-wagon—the ordinary peasant’s cart—with its long, snake-like vertebra, calculated to suit the inequalities of the road. On this were sure to be seated quite a group of home-coming peasants, the Cszeks with their white, and the Slovaks with their coloured, sheepskins, the latter carrying lance-fashion their long staves, with axe at end. As the evening fell it began to get very cold, and the growing twilight seemed to merge into one dark mistiness the gloom of the trees, oak, beech, and pine, though in the valleys which ran deep between the spurs of the hills, as we ascended through the Pass, the dark firs stood out here and there against the background of late-lying snow. Sometimes, as the road was cut through the pine woods that seemed in the darkness to be closing down upon us, great masses of greyness, which here and there bestrewed the trees, produced a peculiarly weird and solemn effect, which carried on the thoughts and grim fancies engendered earlier in the evening, when the falling sunset threw into strange relief the ghost-like clouds which amongst the Carpathians seem to wind ceaselessly through the valleys. Sometimes the hills were so steep that, despite our driver’s haste, the horses could only go slowly. I wished to get down and walk up them, as we do at home, but the driver would not hear of it. “No, no,” he said; “you must not walk here; the dogs are too fierce”; and then he added, with what he evidently meant for grim pleasantry—for he looked round to catch the approving smile of the rest—“and you may have enough of such matters before you go to sleep.” The only stop he would make was a moment’s pause to light his lamps.
Bluwr X Commons: Bram Stoker

Bluwr X Commons: Bram Stoker

Abraham Stoker (8 November 1847 – 20 April 1912) was an Irish author, his novel ‘Dracula’ is regarded as one of the most recognizable works of English literature.


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Morocco, History, and Geography: The Foundations of Political Reality and Territorial Integrity... 225

Aziz Daouda, 1 d.
Politics cannot be separated from history or geography. It consists of a set of actions and decisions aimed at organizing a society internally, as well as in its relations with the rest of the world. It is always situated within a context shaped by the two fundamental dimensions of history and geography, which are by no means mere backdrops but rather provide the framework within which political projects, conflicts, and developments unfold. Politics may be influenced by an ideology—born of a philosophy—or simply shaped by a given context, but such influence rarely lasts. History plays a fundamental role in understanding political phenomena. A country’s institutions, laws, and values are rooted in its collective memory, an inheritance made up of major events, breaks, or continuities with the past. Borders, for example, are often drawn following wars or treaties, the outcome of ancient or recent conflicts. They remain visible marks of past rivalries, defeats, victories, and compromises. Relations—whether of solidarity or rivalry—between nations, regions, or communities are explained in light of shared or divergent histories. The present Kingdom of Morocco cannot be understood without reference to its millennial origins, to the centuries-old Sharifian Empire, nor to the successive dynasties that shaped its relationship to religion, allegiance, and the centralization of power throughout different eras. Similarly, geography significantly influences the choices and constraints of public policies. The distribution of natural resources conditions economic development, territorial organization, and power relations. Relief, climate, and access to maritime routes determine possibilities for urbanization, agriculture, communication, and defense. Border situations impose specific diplomatic and security policies, while landlocked or insular areas require tailored strategies. Some authors even describe Morocco as an “island country” due to its geographical configuration. It is therefore inconceivable to conceive of effective or legitimate politics without taking history and geography into account. Every choice, reform, or political ambition must be based on a deep understanding of the territory and collective memory; ignoring one or the other exposes one to illusion, misunderstanding, or even failure. Regarding the Sahara, referred to as the “Western Sahara,” the geography of this region is undeniably contiguous to Morocco, physically, demographically, and historically: the Saharan populations have largely contributed to the country’s evolution. Its history was written through the successive allegiances of its tribes to the sultans of Morocco, and the Sharifian kingdom thus constitutes a nation-state established long before the contemporary era. Weakened by having missed the crucial turn of the industrial revolution, the Sharifian Empire was dissected from south to north, but also from the east. The so-called Western Sahara was annexed by Spain, which exercised colonial control there from 1884 to 1975. This situation facilitated France’s domination over territories grouped into French West Africa, part of which later became Mauritania. France also appropriated the eastern part of the Sharifian Empire, annexed de facto to its departments conquered from the Ottoman Empire and called French Algeria. The remainder was placed under French protectorate, while northern Morocco came under Spanish rule. Independence, achieved in 1956, and the gradual decolonization of Sidi Ifni and Tarfaya concerned other regions only later. On November 28, 1960, France authorized the proclamation of Mauritania’s independence—a region then claimed by Morocco, as were territories under Spanish control that Morocco considered its own. At that time, there was a Moroccan ministry called the “Ministry of Mauritanian and Saharan Affairs,” headed by Mohammed Fal Ould Oumeir, a representative of those territories. From 1963 onwards, the kingdom raised the issue of the Spanish Sahara before the Decolonization Commission. The situation became complicated when newly created Mauritania also claimed the territory, notably to pressure Morocco, which did not recognize Mauritanian independence until 1969—nine years after its proclamation. Morocco continued to claim the Spanish Sahara peacefully, preventing the Liberation Army from pursuing military actions in the region. In 1973, the creation of the Polisario Front (Popular Front for the Liberation of Saguia el-Hamra and Rio de Oro) marked a new stage. This movement initially aimed to unite the Saharan territory with the “motherland.” But in a context of regional rivalries and ideological tensions, the Saharan question was instrumentalized by various actors. Muammar Gaddafi’s Libya played a decisive role in the rise of the separatist Polisario, supporting and arming the movement in a "revolutionary" and pan-Arabist logic, while seeking to destabilize the Moroccan monarchy. Later, Gaddafi himself admitted having made a “strategic mistake” in backing this group, which remains a destabilizing factor in the region today. In 1975, a peaceful turning point occurred: bolstered by the International Court of Justice’s opinion recognizing ties of allegiance between Saharan tribes and Moroccan sultans, the late King Hassan II launched the Green March to general surprise. This mobilization pushed Spain to withdraw from Laâyoune in favor of Morocco, which immediately reclaimed the territory. Mauritania, although having occupied adjacent zones, ultimately withdrew, leaving Morocco alone against the Polisario Front, actively supported by Algeria, which hosted, armed, financed, and elevated the movement into a “republic.” Houari Boumédiène’s Algeria exploited the situation to weaken its Moroccan neighbor, even calling the Saharan issue a “thorn in Morocco’s side,” a way of exacting revenge for the crushing defeat in 1963. This dispute has often overshadowed the deep history of ties between Morocco and these territories under Sharifian authority well before the colonial era. For Morocco, territorial integrity rests firmly on the constants of history and geography—major arguments. The rest is merely a temporary construction without foundation, destined to fade into oblivion in the near future. Moroccans know this very well… Perhaps not everyone else…

Ahmed Faras: The Eternal Legend of Moroccan Football 450

Aziz Daouda, 3 d.
3 min read.
I have been fortunate enough to know Ahmed Faras. It is unbearable for me to speak of him in the past tense, someone who has been part of my life for so long. It had been ages since he last touched a ball. Few are still alive who saw him play, those who, match after match, would await his dribble, his runs down the wing, his shot, his goal. Faras was an outstanding man, with an incredible shyness and reserve. Even when present somewhere, he was always on the sidelines: discreet, courteous, kind, with deep sensitivity, affection, and great touchiness. But Faras will always be part of the present. He is a true legend of Moroccan and African football; legends never die. Fedala saw him born in the cold of December 1947. Mohammedia would be his city and Chabab his eternal club. At the time, there was no such thing as a transfer market, no migrations, no football mercenary spirit. You were born in a club, learned to play there, and you stayed. His temperament was not that of a typical striker: there was no aggressiveness, no cunning. He compensated with his genius and never needed to dive or roll on the ground to sway a referee or create confusion. His genius spared him all that. He was an exceptional striker who marked the history of Moroccan and continental football. The turf at El Bachir football stadium helped him, at that time, it was the best in Morocco. Ahmed Faras was the product of a generation shaped by the structured environment of the youth sports schools run by the Ministry of Youth and Sports, a system supposedly dismantled by so-called administrative and political reforms. Yet, it was there that Morocco's champions were formed, across all sports. His early path was marked by the guidance of renowned trainers such as Lakhmiri, who helped shape numerous Moroccan talents. This solid foundation allowed him to develop technical skills and a sense of teamwork very early on, which would become hallmarks of his play. Ahmed Faras spent his entire career at Chabab Mohammedia, from 1965 to 1982, never having a professional contract—such things didn’t exist in Morocco then. There’s no need to mention signing bonuses or performance awards, even with the national team. His loyalty to Chabab is remarkable. He would lead the club to a Moroccan championship and become its top scorer. He would bring along with him his playing friends—Acila, Glaoua, Haddadi, and many more. Faras was a pillar of the Moroccan national team. With 36 goals in 94 caps, what a historic scorer for the Atlas Lions! He captained the national team for eight years, playing in the 1970 World Cup in Mexico and the 1972 Munich Olympic Games. In 1975, Ahmed Faras entered the legend by becoming the first Moroccan to win the African Ballon d’Or, an award that underlined the quality and consistency of his play. This distinction placed him among the greatest players on the continent, competing with the top African stars of his era. There was talk of a transfer to Real Madrid...but at the time Moroccan league players were barred from moving abroad under penalty of losing their place in the national team. The idea was, thus, to strengthen the domestic league... The peak of his career was surely the 1976 Africa Cup of Nations (CAN), won by Morocco in Ethiopia. Faras was the leader on the pitch, the tournament’s top scorer, and his influence was decisive for this historic triumph—the only major African title that Morocco has ever won. He scored crucial goals against Nigeria and Egypt in that tournament, perfectly embodying the role of playmaker and team leader on the field. To this day, he remains the only Moroccan captain ever to lift the coveted African trophy. I have been a few times to that ground in Addis Ababa where he lifted the trophy, and every time, his image dominates my thoughts. An indelible black-and-white, forever etched in the history of the Kingdom and in the memory of Moroccans who followed the match at the time through the voice of one Ahmed Elgharbi...no live broadcasts back then. He was a respected and heeded captain, guided by great coaches: Abdelkader Lakhmiri, Blagoe Vidinic, Abdellah Settati, Jabrane, and especially Gheorghe Mardarescu during that epic campaign in the land of Emperor Haile Selassie. His charisma and vision of the game were crucial in unifying the team and leading them to the summit of African football. Faras embodied the spirit of conquest and national pride throughout the tournament. The squad was selected and led by an outstanding manager as well Colonel Mehdi Belmejdoub. His name is forever bound to that legendary achievement, a symbol of the potential of Moroccan football when guided by exemplary leadership, committed and knowledgeable managers, and players who were true warriors for their jersey’s colors. Ahmed Faras was not just a talented player. After his retirement, he continued to share his passion, getting involved in youth training, passing on his knowledge and love for the game to the new generation. He has been a source of inspiration for so many generations of players. Knowing Lhaj Ahmed Faras meant knowing a symbol of loyalty, talent, and unique leadership in Moroccan sports. His name will forever remain inscribed in collective memory as that of a football giant, whose legacy goes beyond sport to inspire entire generations. Rest in peace, my friend. One day, a great football stadium in this country will bear your name, and it will be fitting, if the players follow your example, honor your career, and if the public rises to your greatness, paying tribute to your distinguished name. So Lhaj Ahmed Faras, if you ever meet Acila up there, ask him to give you another nice pass, and tell Glaoua to defend well... Know that your star shines and will always shine above us in the sky of the beautiful country you cherished so much. ---