The great northern capital is captivating in many ways: its distinctive topography, its picturesque sites, its lush gardens, the originality of its souks, and finally the elegance of spirit and manners of its inhabitants—harmoniously symbolized by the slender finesse of its minarets, rising sharply against a blue backdrop. Everything here contributes to enchanting the visitor in search of the unexpected. Yet nothing compares to the brilliance of its light.
At times, in vague dreams, we experience a sense of confusion, a visual disturbance against which we struggle, making every effort to open wide our eyes, hungry for clarity. Upon waking, the relief is immense: a special joy fills our being, and the haze that clouded our vision dissipates as if by magic. Our sense of sight seems sharpened, endowed with new power. It is precisely this sensation that penetrates and overwhelms us beneath the strange light of Fez. Here, outlines possess a precision, a sharpness accentuated by the right angles of the buildings.
The Mellah Corridor
The Mellah of Fez partakes of this same clarity. This narrow corridor, where vehicles cannot pass and which elsewhere might appear sordid, presents itself here in a striking and original brightness.
Balconies follow one another along the houses, seemingly eager to join together as bridges above the street. They expose interior lives to the hurried passersby, who scarcely notice them. And indeed, what is there to hide in these interiors, where life is lived openly, in repetition, within the same family habits, the same spirit, the same thoughts? For those who seek causal relationships and whose generalizing minds move beyond local contingencies of time and space, here lies the simple explanation for this intimacy that troubles no one—this familiarity in which Israel lives wherever it may be found.
At the evening hour of solitary meditation, the trees in the gardens seem to gather in quiet conversation, attended only by a few taciturn initiates. The Mellah, by contrast, takes on at that hour an extraordinary animation. A major commercial center, it forms a passage between two neighborhoods. A vast throng fills it; one moves only with difficulty through the intense jostling. The residents of the balconies must already be accustomed to this curious spectacle. To them, the crowd appears merely as a parterre of heads, where the variety of headwear evokes a multicolored carpet. This moving tapestry unfolds between the two ends of the street: the Bordj and the Grand Square.
The Jewish population, situated at this crossroads, naturally benefits from the flow and presents itself—whether in traditional dress or modern suits—with an open, energetic bearing. In this center, where Jewish culture has flourished and still does, there blossoms an irony that is light and without bitterness, where measured enthusiasm is tempered by the most amiable skepticism. Two words one does not usually expect to see paired. Skepticism has never excluded enthusiasm; it is, if you will, the practical philosophy of ideas. Seen in this light, it becomes sympathetic.
There is no fiery, disjointed, incoherent movement here, but rather a reasoned discipline, cultivated through classical and Talmudic studies. And before this smiling gentleness, one readily forgives irony—even when it turns upon oneself—for it brushes past without offending and, curiously enough, sometimes flatters by speaking truths.
Thus is defined the contact with this gracious community, whose spiritual superiority reveals itself without ever making you feel diminished.
How, with such elements, could great things not be achieved?
Municipal Elections
The Jewish organization of Fez is unique: an elected municipality administers the affairs of the Mellah.
Young men, with charming naïveté, showed us the elegant manner in which elections are held in the Mellah of Fez. They explained the stratagems and maneuverings of electoral committees, marveling at them—as if these maneuvers were not, on the contrary, signs of progress. In what civilized country do electoral tactics not prevail? They are, after all, the price paid for the modern idea of representation.
And as long as visits to the bistro—yes, there are already bistros—do not yet form the dominant note of elections, that is all one may reasonably ask.
This electoral philosophy underlies voting behavior and clearly reflects a skepticism toward current institutions. It is not entirely mistaken, but it presents one aspect of the question—the most pleasant, assuredly, for being the most human.
Associations and Charitable Works
In private groups, matters proceed more loyally—or rather, less comically. It has not yet been demonstrated that votes are entirely independent of partial sympathies. Be that as it may, a lively activity, in all its forms, animates the Mellah of Fez.
A Charitable Society, presided over by Me S. Nataf, with Mr. Cadoche, a teacher from the Alliance Israélite Universelle, as secretary, has been functioning quite effectively for some time. We know who animates it; better still, we know that its directives originate from the very heart of progressive circles—and we rejoice in this.
A soup kitchen is operating; its details may be slightly open to criticism, but it is full of vitality. The Charitable Society has succeeded in eliminating begging, though there is concern that its efforts are not sufficiently supported by the Community.
The great women’s organization Im Habanim is devoted to children’s education and Jewish teaching. It feeds and clothes impoverished children.
The Association of Alumni of the Alliance has been reestablished under the presidency of Mr. Djivré, Director of Alliance Schools, with Mr. Hayon as vice-president. We know the worth of these two men, whose practical experience inspires confidence. We are therefore reassured as to the future of the Association.
The Community
Following the example of Tangier, the Community Committee has just published its bulletin for 1930. This innovation is a clear sign of the Committee’s desire to meet the long-expressed need of the population to follow the management of its affairs. The prosperity of Fez is the result of wise administration and demonstrates what can be achieved by harmoniously combining the forces of tradition with those of progress. Experience and boldness together accomplish great things.
Reading the Community Bulletin of Fez provides us with most practical instruction. It serves as both document and basis for discussion. Upon examining the various chapters, we find ample justification for the use of half a million francs in revenue. Nevertheless, we observe that while the net surplus amounts to 70,000 francs, certain charitable works receive only insufficient subsidies.
Schools receive only 4,500 francs for meal programs—just 0.8% of total revenue. This imbalance between effort and resources draws the attention of those who judge impartially through figures. Alliance schools count 1,100 children, of whom only 200 benefit from the school meals.
Does this mean that Fez has no more needy children? Alas, this great center does not escape the common rule. Budgetary objections fall away in the face of such a surplus. It is wise, of course, to build reserves for the future—but the true reserve for the future lies in our children more than in our safes.
When one adds cash surplus to real estate assets, the figure reaches 133,000 francs. Out of 522,000 francs in revenue, this excessive thrift becomes a true aberration. For us, the lives and well-being of children are a far more precious wealth to safeguard than paper currency, even when invested profitably.
The Charitable Society fights against begging. We have expressed concerns regarding the sustainability of its work. Is the community subsidy sufficient to support its efforts? We permit ourselves to doubt it. And what of the Amili Tora, those delightful students of the Talmud, drawn to the rigor of our great spiritual work and wishing to devote their entire lives to it? Being a rabbi here is not always a brilliant position. They themselves know this—but like all intellectuals, they lack foresight.
Yet it is for you to consider this, in this Fez that has been—and can become again, if you so wish—the greatest spiritual center of North Africa. Maimonides, and closer to us, Elijah Benamozegh—is this not a glorious past? And will it not encourage you to increase the meager subsidy of 3,000 francs “granted” to students?
But in the material world, matter will always prevail over spirit. And yet, gentlemen of Fez—and you, charming ladies of Fez—are you not the very embodiment of spirit itself?