Essay: "Leaving Tangier": The Immigrant Experience

This essay explores the multi-dimensional reasons for and ramifications of immigration through the context of Tahar Ben Jelloun’s novel Leaving Tangier.

Tangier Skyline

Tahar Ben Jelloun’s novel, Leaving Tangier explores the multi-dimensional reasons for, and ramifications of immigration by following the lives, experiences, and perceptions of Azel, a young immigrant from Morocco, and other various characters throughout the novel –– Ben Jelloun reveals how forces and processes such as globalization, poverty, corruption, exploitation, racism and xenophobia oftentimes plays a role in one’s immigrant experience. Ultimately, Ben Jelloun seems to critique the “facile idealization of departure as the sole remedy for [migrants’] destitution” (Pireddu, 2009).

The novel’s protagonist, Azel, has studied law and lives with his mother, Lalla Zohra, and his sister, Kenza, in Tangier. Azel, as well as many other people living in Tangier, dream of leaving –– many spend every evening at the Café Haha, gazing longingly at the lights twinkling on the Spanish coastline, yearning for a better life in Europe. For Azel, leaving the country was an obsession, “a kind of madness that ate him day and night: how he could get out, how could he escape this humiliation? Leaving, abandoning this land that wants nothing more to do with his children, turning your back on such a beautiful country to return one day, proudly, perhaps as a rich man: leaving to save your life, even as you risk losing it [...]” (Ben Jelloun, 2009).

There are a multitude of reasons that cause Azel, as well as other immigrants, to want to migrate –– these include more “common” reasons such as poverty, lack of employment, and corruption; arguably, however, the most potent motivation is the idealization of Western countries oftentimes caused by “the underside of globalization –– the internalized self-hatred that causes one to long for what is not” (Levy, 2010). Many immigrants have fallen victim to this dangerous idealism –– this, what some call, “migrant’s pleasure principle,” or the “easy Europeanization” of one’s dreams is the notion that everything would be automatically better or easier if one immigrates to a Western country (Pireddu, 2009). Ben Jelloun represents this Western romanticization of many immigrants when he writes: “Even the cat was fed up: he, too, wanted something else from life, and needed tenderness, caresses, a kind family who would spoil him. The cat wanted to go away because he knew instinctively that it was better ‘over there,’ and he had his obsessions like everyone else, coming stubbornly every day to try his best to jump onto [a] vessel bound for Europe” (Ben Jelloun, 2009). Azel “instinctively” knows, or thinks, rather, that he will undoubtedly find success in Spain –– he is constantly fantasizing about returning to Morocco as a rich man –– as some kind of hero –– and is explicitly willing to risk his life to get there as the chances of success are only about one in ten. However, to him and many others, it is worth the risk – as one character states, “One chance in ten? Better than nothing! A gamble, a long shot. On the other hand, if we just sit here is this café, nothing will happen to us, absolutely nothing, and we’ll still be here in ten years, drinking the same lukewarm café au lait, smoking kif, and waiting for a miracle! In other words: some work, a decent job—well paid, with respect, security and dignity” (Ben Jelloun, 2009).

When, more often than not, immigrants leave poverty and despair for slightly less poverty and, ultimately, more despair, as is what happens to Azel. Ben Jelloun foreshadows the bleak fate of Azel, and many other immigrants, through an analogy between the “dreamers who are burning with the desire of leaving their countries for a better life” and the bees who have drowned in those “dreamers’” tea: he writes: “In the tall glasses of cold tea, the green mint has been tarnished black. The bees have all drowned at the bottom. The men no longer sip this tea now steeped into bitterness. With a spoon they fish the bees one by one, placing them on the table and exclaiming, ‘Poor little drowned things, victims of their own greediness’” (Ben Jelloun, 2009).

Although Ben Jelloun seems to criticize the idealization of Western countries and the belief that immigrating will automatically lead to a better life, he also recognizes why many immigrants might feel this way, and does not blame them for thinking that leaving is the only option. Undoubtedly, Azel feels extremely frustrated and hopeless in Tangier, a city plagued by poverty, corruption, and exploitation. Such is the case with many other immigrants’ origin countries. As mentioned previously, Azel has studied law, but the lack of jobs renders him poor and unable to fulfill his potential. Ben Jelloun further reveals how the circumstances of many origin countries leave inhabitants feeling hopeless when one of his characters declares that “poverty is a curse… it roots you to the spot, pins you down on a wobbly chair and you’re not allowed to stand up, to go see if the sky is more pleasant somewhere else” (Ben Jelloun, 2009). This reveals the anguish that many immigrants feel in their origin countries –– they feel as though they are condemned to a life sentence in their country of birth. Consequently, many begin to find themselves in work that profits off of the exploitation and vulnerability of those in poverty. Such is the case for many characters in the novel –– for instance, Al Afia, a local crook and drug dealer, arranges for people to be smuggled across the water. He profits off of these immigrants’ desperation, whether they make it across the water alive or not. Ben Jelloun describes Al Afia as a brutal, hard man whose “regime of corruption” is portrayed with “unflinching honesty”: “he buys everyone, of course, this country is one huge marketplace, wheeling and dealing day and night, everybody’s for sale, all you need is a little power, something to cash in on”… “we stink of corruption, it’s on our faces, in our heads buried in our hearts” (Ben Jelloun, 2009). It is not uncommon for people to commodify “freedom,” basically. In many cases, immigrants and refugees are desperate to the point of putting all of their hope and money into the hands of corrupt smugglers who probably feel indifferent about whether or not they survive.

Another example of exploitation can be found in the story of Malika, Azel’s fourteen-year-old neighbor. Malika also dreams of a better life in Europe; however, she is forced leave school and, instead, work in a shrimp-shelling plant where her hands and fingers are ruined, and where she eventually gets pneumonia –– on her death bed, she imagines life if she had lived in Europe, rather than having to work in a “freezing factory”. She states: “If only I were in France, I wouldn’t be in a hospital – simply because I wouldn’t be sick, because I wouldn’t have been working in a freezing factory, I wouldn’t have caught this lung disease, [...]. I should have left, I should have held on to Azel’s hand and never let go, [...] he would never have abandoned me. [...] My mother told me the other day that Azz El Arab’s sister has gone to Spain; even her mother, it seems, is about to go rejoin her son and daughter. They are so lucky! (Ben Jelloun, 2009). Ben Jelloun uses Malika’s story to obviously reveal the oftentimes grave consequences and injustices of exploitation; however, it could be argued that Ben Jelloun uses her story for ironic purposes –– in some ways, her story parallels Azel’s in order to further emphasize the dangers of Western idealization and the realities of immigrant life. Malika envies Azel, thinking that he is “so lucky!” However, when Azel arrives in Europe, he realizes that corruption, poverty, and exploitation are not exclusive to Morocco.

Another prominent example of exploitation, if not the main example, is Azel and Miguel’s relationship. Miguel is a gay gallerist from Barcelona who arranges for Azel to live with him in his villa as his lover. Miguel reveals that he “found a kind of perverse pleasure in feeling lonely and sorry for himself. [...] He loved the “awkwardness” of Moroccan men, [...]. He loved the oil sheen of their skin. and he loved their availability, which marked an inequality in which the relationship was formed, [...]” (Ben Jelloun, 2009). It is evident that “Miguel’s perception of the young Moroccans reflects the colonizer’s vision which disregards the native’s individuality and humanity” (Emir, 2014). Rather, Miguel view Azel as a resource to be exploited. On the other hand, though, Azel is willing to “throw away his dignity,” believing that, eventually, he will be able to leave Miguel and go back to old, heterosexual ways. However, after some time with Miguel in Spain, Azel’s sexuality becomes blurred, even to himself –– he begins to find that it is becoming increasingly difficult to hold on to his identity. Although Miguel provides Azel with a “luxurious life,” Azel begins to wonder if his identity, dignity, and sexuality are worth sacrificing. Miguel treats Azel like a slave, commanding him to perform the role of a submissive servant and sex object, and humiliates Azel in front of many guests at a party –– “Azel is forced to “wear a caftan, a wig that was almost red, a belt embroidered with gold, babouches, and a veil. Nothing but women’s clothes! Azel realized immediately what Miguel had in mind. [...] Miguel whispered in Azel’s ear, ‘you’re going to dance. and you’ll dance like a whore.’ [...] He began to dance to some Egyptian music, moving his buttocks [...]” (Ben Jelloun, 2009).

This scene indicates the abused and humiliated position of the natives at the merciless hands of the colonizers. Azel becomes the “Other” and his humanity and identity are belittled and degraded by Miguel’s capricious manners. in this respect, the hospitality of the West is transformed into a kind of ethnocentrism by Miguel. Although Azel is offered job, luxurious clothes and a safe life by his benefactor, an uncompromising gap occurs between his Moroccan roots and the newly adopted Europeanness. Pireddu observes that “Azel’s increasing distress for his sexual duplicity, weakening, and confusion caused by his relationship with Miguel is the symptom of a greater ambivalence and crisis common to most allegedly Europeanized immigrants in the novel” (Pireddu, 2009).

The novel reveals how oftentimes immigrants are “condemned to invisibility by their foreignness even when they are socially and juristically legitimized” –– as a result, many oftentimes become “paradoxical non-existing human beings” (Pireddu, 2009), as they feel estranged from both their origin roots and their new identities in Europe. As is also the case for Kenza, Azel’s sister, when she is granted European citizenship by “marrying” Miguel. At first, Kenza thrives –– she finds a job and her own apartment. She falls in love with a Turkish man and keeps contact with her Moroccan identity by dancing two nights a week in an ethnic restaurant. However, when Kenza discovers that her lover is married, all hopes of marriage, a family and stability have vanished. She falls into a deep depression and attempts suicide, but fails. The two get the chance to return to Morocco after the death of the “despotic” King Hassan II. Kenza decides to return, but Azel stays because “there was only one thing he didn’t want: to be sent back to Morocco. The shame, the hchouma, and the hegra, the humiliation – no, never, anything but that [...] He had left. Left to return only like a prince, not like garbage tossed out by the Spanish” (Ben Jelloun, 2009). Azel is finally “freed” from Miguel and becomes an informant against Muslim extremist which eventually leads to his death: “Azel was on the floor, his throat cut, his head in a pool of blood. The Brothers had slaughtered him like a lamb sacrificed for Aid el-Kebir” (Ben Jelloun, 2009). As mentioned earlier, Malika’s story parallels Azel’s and serves as a source of irony –– Malika, as well as other, saw Azel as “lucky”; however, in reality, Azel ends up losing himself, becoming corrupted sexually, dehumanized, and (ironically) ends up working for those who are working against him, and is killed by the his “own people”.

The last chapter titled, “Returning” describes a “dream-like” journey from Europe back to Morocco on a boat named “Toutia”. As mentioned earlier in the novel, Toutia is the sea that represents some kind of “fatal mediator” between the shoresthat “is carrying away the would-be Europeans from their dream land as Europe’s “others” to their own roots. Embarking on Toutia, passengers begin once again an endless journey as spectral characters (Pireddu, 2009). The phantoms of Leaving Tangier walk several days “to back to their roots, to their native land, a destiny that has appeared to them as a kind of command, an indisputable order [...]. This is their season, a season for no one but them, for all those who have suffered, who have not found their place in life” (Ben Jelloun, 2009). Toutia represents “an ironic ‘imagined community’ made of all the failed and displaced dreamers of Europe, cast off as on a ship of fools without the consolation of a comeback to their own roots” (Pireddu, 2009).

Overall, Ben Jelloun effectively explores the various social and economic factors that oftentimes lead to immigration by showcasing the thought-processes, ideas, dreams, and insights of multiple, different characters. Both Azel and Kenza’s “state of mind and personal [lives] are symptomatic of the profound trauma generated by the cleavage between what we may call the migrant’s pleasure principle – the easy Europeanization of his dreams – and the reality principle – the concrete social, political, and administrative mechanisms of Euromediterranean relations and of European immigration, laying bare the antinomies of the notion of community and challenging idealized perspectives on hospitality” (Pireddu, 2009). In other words, although he realizes the injustices, issues, and dangers of many immigrants’ origin countries, Ben Jelloun sort-of “debunks” the idealization of Western countries by immigrants and the idea that one’s life will improve. He explicitly does so through an insane, but wise, philosopher in the novel named Moha:

“Leaving! Leaving! Leaving any way at all, at any cost, drowning, floating on the water, belly bloated, face eaten away by the salt, eyes gone. Leaving! That’s all you have come up with for a solution… [you] want to take off, leave, quit the country, move in with the Europeans, but they are not expecting you, or rather, they are: with dogs, German Shepherds, handcuffs, a kick in the butt, and you think that there’s work over there, comfort, grace and beauty, but my poor friends, there is sadness, loneliness, all shades of gray and money as well, but not for those who come without invitation! Right, you know what I’m talking about: how many guys left and wound up drowned? How many left and got sent back? How many dissolved into thin air and we don’t even know if they still exist, their families haven’t had any news of them, but me, I know where they are: they are here, in my jebella hood, all piled on top of one another, lying low like thieves, waiting for the light in order to emerge, and that’s not a life. (Ben Jelloun, 2009).

Leaving Tangier both highlights the struggles and adversities that immigrants face before, during, and after immigrating to a new country –– hopefully, it evoke some sort of sympathy or empathy from readers, but also, it serves as a cautionary tale to those who may be thinking of migrating to a Western country as an attempt at a “better life”. As Azel reveals, “You know from Morocco you can see Spain, but it doesn’t work like that in the opposite direction” (Ben Jelloun, 2009) –– Of course, this is not always the case, and immigration is beneficial for many, however, many destination countries in the West have a lot of systems in place and underlying prejudices that may be working against the best interests of immigrants –– these need to be examined before this “idealization” can be true.