In a Fight for Land, a Women’s Movement Shakes Morocco
OULAD
SEBATA, Morocco — For most of her life, Saida Soukat’s days were filled
with the routines of the farm, working the fields and minding the
cattle. A recent Tuesday found her doing something far different,
though, speaking before a group of women during their biweekly protests
to demand a halt in the state-sanctioned privatization of traditional
tribal collectives, called the Sulaliyyate lands.
“One foot up, one foot down. For my land, my blood will shed,” she chanted in a megaphone.
The Sulaliyyates,
as the women are known, began their protests 10 years ago and have
since assembled a powerful grass-roots organization fighting not only
for the tribal lands but for equal ownership rights in a country where
women, by law, inherit less than men.
“This
is really the first movement that is shaking the patriarchal foundation
of the society,” says Zakia Salime, an associate professor at Rutgers
University who has extensively studied the movement. “They are saying
no, you cannot give land to men, and they are asking also that, in case
you privatize the land, we need to have our equal share.”
This is all happening against a backdrop of economic and social change in Morocco that figures prominently in the women’s movement.
After
King Mohammed VI succeeded his father in 1999, one of his hallmark
achievements was the promotion of women’s rights, as the country has
tried to position itself as a regional leader. In 2004, a new family
code guaranteed women more rights in marriage and divorce, raising the
minimum age for marriage and restricting polygamy.
In
2011, after the revolutions in Tunisia and Egypt, the country adopted a
new Constitution that established gender equality. Even so, women’s
rights advocates say, women are significantly absent from the work force
and, in legal matters, often at a strong disadvantage to men.
While
Morocco has been liberalizing its economy since the 1990s, selling off
government assets and reducing barriers to foreign investment, the
threat to the communal lands intensified in 2004 when it signed the Morocco Free Trade Agreement with the United States. The agreement increased the economic incentive to privatize and develop traditional lands.
About
35 percent of Morocco’s land is designated as Sulaliyyate, the Interior
Ministry says. In 1919, while Morocco was still a French protectorate,
management of the land was transferred to the ministry from the tribal
authorities, with the idea of discouraging migration from rural areas to
the cities.
Under
this system, while people did not own the land, they were given the
right to work designated plots and take their share of the harvest.
Shares in the communal lands could be passed only from fathers to sons
older than 16.
According
to tribal law, single women, widows, divorcées and those without sons
could not inherit the land, which meant that the state could confiscate
it without compensation. Over the years, thousands of women — no one
really knows how many — were forced from their homes and into slums in
surrounding towns and cities.
The
nationwide movement began in 2007 when a woman in the city of Kenitra,
close to the capital, Rabat, demanded equality in land ownership.
Saida
Idrissi, the president of the Rabat bureau of the Moroccan Association
for Women’s Rights, helped the women to organize, training them in
constitutional law and guiding them in negotiations with the Interior
Ministry.
“Most
of them are illiterate women from the rural world who were scared to
talk, so we had to put in place a strategy very specific to this
category of women,” she said.
Soon
after, women living on these parcels began organizing, and in 2009
about 500 from all over the country protested in front of Parliament to
demand equal rights to ownership, and compensation if land was
expropriated. Since then, hundreds have joined the movement.
In
response, the Interior Ministry has issued several circulars stating
that women should benefit from selling the communal lands and should be a
part of the negotiation process. But the circulars are nonbinding, and
delegates designated by the tribes as the residents’ representatives can
choose to ignore them.
The
imminence of the threat is visible from the top of a hill just behind
Ms. Soukat’s house: a sprawling development of condos wrapped around a
golf course, built by a major real estate developer, Addoha. She said a
delegate sold the land in 2007 without consulting or involving
villagers.
“We
aren’t against development projects, but we demand our rights to be
respected,” said Ms. Soukat, 27, a mother of two, who left school at a
young age and was married when she was 16.
At
first, the protests were led by men, but women quickly became involved.
“In our traditions, it was shameful for women to leave the house,” she
said. “But the men would get arrested, so women took over. We left our
children behind.”
Souad
Eddouada, a professor at the University of Kenitra who specializes in
gender studies, said: “All over the country, women are at the forefront
because they are less vulnerable to police brutality and incarceration.
They became very successful in their fight. They had to leave their
homes and were supported by the men.”
While
the women have made some gains, the fight is far from over, as they
still cannot pass on the rights to their share of the land to their
children.
“Now
we are demanding a law that guarantees these rights. This circular for
now is very fragile,” Ms. Idrissi said. “Women must become a full part
of the managing of the collective lands.”
Neither the development company, Addoha, nor the Interior Ministry returned calls seeking comment.
In December 2015, the king issued a letter calling for a change in the legal status of the communal lands and for an end to the current practices.
“We
must fix the Sulaliyyate lands so they can contribute to development
efforts,” he wrote, “by integrating the beneficiaries into this national
dynamic within the framework of the principles of law and social
justice.”
Lawmakers in Morocco, a constitutional monarchy, have yet to act on the request.
So
the protests rumble on, and twice a week, a relative of Ms. Soukat’s
takes a taxi to join the protest. The relative, Fatima Soukat, is not
exactly sure how old she is, but she thinks she’s around 93.
She
was born when Morocco was ruled by France, celebrated when the country
gained independence in 1956 and cheered when women gained significant
rights under the new family code in 2004.
When
many took to the streets in pro-democracy protests in 2011, she joined
them. And today she is still fighting for the right to the land where
she was born and raised eight children.
“I demand the land of my grandfathers,” she said at one recent protest. “We are beaten. We are oppressed.”
Saida
Soukat said she had faced threats and intimidation for her role in the
movement. In February, she was badly beaten by a man as she was walking
alone on a road. But her greatest worry, she said, is that she and her
family will be forced off the land and out of their home.
“I
am scared for my children, but not for myself,” she said, sitting in
her living room, sipping mint tea under a picture of the last three
Moroccan kings. “The only thing that is scary is a court decision to
vacate. I lose sleep over it at night.”
You can read the story on the New York Times' website.