Fez, The Genius of a City

Once you pass through the arched gate of Boujeloud, with its green and blue mirrors, the minaret of Bounaniya rises out of the dense urban fabric of the medina’s northern neighborhood. While trapped in the bewildering mass of bricks and lime surrounding the gate, you wonder how you will reach this spectacular fourteenth--century minaret. Turning slightly to the right at your first chance of finding a passage to Talaa Kbira, the main thoroughfare, a vibrant market street bestows its sensory gifts: shops smoking with barbecue, sweet smelling incense, the visual display of crafted babouche slippers and multi-colored Moroccan olives.

This sensual reception alerts you to the fact that you are in an unprecedented urban play, where the pedestrian holds sway, and every street is tailored to fit the silhouette of the human body. Suddenly, on reaching a knot in this long serpentine street, your eye is caught by a spot where the shops come to a halt. You find yourself before the ornamentally covered gate of the Bounaniya medersa.

Standing in front of this cooper-plated gate, your eye observes the rays of light permeating the immense courtyard of one of the most beautiful medersas built in Morocco by the Merinid sultans. Climbing up an exquisite staircase, insinuating your body through a latticed wooden second door, your main experience of discovery begins: a grand geometrical void embraces body and soul, transposing them to a heavenly paradise. It is a crystal realm of a thousand diamonds; a universe made out of tiny geometric pieces and motifs. Symmetry, linearity, and unity govern the physical materials, melting their rigidity into a vibrant environment for the spirit.




Why this sudden shift from external disorder to internal order? If the medina, as some maintain, is random and unplanned, what ignited the minds of the craftsmen to create such an interior world of extreme order? Clearly, these same craftsmen were not incapable of designing a whole medina as a circle or a triangle. Rather, something is going on here that we must struggle to understand. This is a considered construction, where the wall, the street, the gate, the neighborhood, and the house form the vocabulary of an unusual language. To decipher its messages and hidden meanings, we must first perceive its intrinsic genius. The medina is a human hive, the intricate neural system of an urban organism.

This organism contains multidimensional spaces, whose function is not determined by a pre-established plan. Movement, human contact, and a sustainability shaped by ethical ideals provide the momentum for this unusual urban system. Although the buildings overlap and are densely juxtaposed, the resident or visitor is spared from disturbance in keeping with the important Islamic principal of community foundation: La darara wala dhirar, “do not cause harm or allow harming.” As Fez matured as a city, scholars and judges came to describe the conduct of its inhabitants in terms of “Ahkam ahl Fas,” the rules of the community of Fez. Whenever conflicts arose, these rules provided a reference for court decisions. A community that embraced spiritual and moral values over centuries of practice and self-discipline reached a high stage of cultural development.

In an era of worldwide transformations wrought by leaders like Charlemagne, Basil I the Macedonian, Louis the Pious, Saints Cyril and Methodius, Kenneth I of Scotland, and the Indian ruler Amoghavarsha, Idris II followed in the footsteps of his father in building the first Islamic dynasty in al-Maghrib al-Aqsa (Morocco), and undertook the task of erecting its capital. Leaving the little town of Zerhoun near the Roman city of Volubilis, the younger Idris sought a new geographical location that would meet the needs of his growing community.
The new city should embody the saintly image of a ruler, who was also a sharif, a descendant of the prophet. This symbolic dimension is echoed in Idris’s prayer launching the construction of Fez.

Almighty God, surely You know that in founding this city I have not sought vainglory, or pride, or dissimulation, or renown, or arrogance. Rather, I have sought that therein You would be worshiped, Your Book always recited and Your laws and Your Prophet’s tradition always observed as long as You shall preserve them…

Idris’s supplication resonates throughout time, and its intention has been realized. Fez became a vibrant spiritual environment, whose main anchor has been the Qarawiyin University and its congregational mosque. Built by a pious woman, Fatima al-Fihriya, the university has always remained a source of inspiration and education for the Fez community, and has never surrendered to the will of a ruler. Many saints and pious scholars emerged from its womb. The teachings of the Qarawiyin and the continuous influence of its scholars have molded the spirit of Fez.

The spirit of Fez is a tangible and intangible power of emanation. It is the power of contemplation and meditation. One cannot pass through the alleys of the medina without being caught by its spiritual symbols. Hundreds of minarets serve as neighborhood hubs, numerous shrines witness the presence of saints, Zawiyas introduce paths of Sufism, and madrassas disseminate knowledge. Together these form the spiritual core of the city.

In contrast with other Islamic cities in the Maghreb and near East that were built for military or commercial ends, Fez was constructed for the purpose of disseminating sacred knowledge. Its site was carefully selected for an abundance of springs, rivers, and fertile terrains. Protected by the Atlas mountains from the Saharan climate, oriented toward the Atlantic Ocean, enfolded by a series of hills, and situated in the midst of a vast agricultural territory, Fez, since its birth, has been an ideal site for a sustainable human presence.

According to Ibn Khaldun, Fez provided a balanced environment, a built community, and the economic wealth that led to an urban equilibrium, al-Umran. These are the conditions needed to foster spiritual and mystical practices and teachings. When equilibrium is established between economic wealth and spiritual knowledge, the members of a community are able to achieve a high level of adab, individual and community conduct. Thus, Fez offered an urban context that molded its inhabitants’ suluk, manners. This was achieved not only through the teachings of its scholars and saints, but also by means of its physical layout.

You face an alley (derb) that seems to be a suffocating cul-de-sac. But if you carefully watch its impact on human behavior, you will see something amazing. The narrow alley with its austere facades places the human body at its center. There is no escaping human contact in the derbs of Fez, where shoulders touch each other, and where it is unthinkable to pass another person without saying: assalamu alaykum (peace be upon you). There is no place for anonymity. Two enemies cannot reside on the same derb.

This reflects the subtlety of an urban fabric that guides and educates its users, a tool mirroring the adab. Streets in Fez, with their varying widths, have a distinct function beyond their role of connecting neighborhoods and channeling traffic. The width dictates a specific behavior: the more narrow the street, the more one advances into private domains. Walking from a main thoroughfare into a residential neighborhood, the narrowness of the street alerts you to be careful about making noise, infringing on the privacy of others, or disturbing the tranquility of a peaceful corner. The same ideal applies to other activities. There is a clear-cut separation between noisy commercial and artisanal districts and residential ones, where the house is a sacred space, and the life of the family prevails. Each one is a microcosm, sustained by the macrocosm of the entire city. The house is more sacred than the mosque: it is the realm of peacefulness, serenity, calm, and meditation. It is not surprising that the houses of Fez took on the attributes of a paradisical garden, a riyad.

The house is equal to the mosque in its sacredness and holiness. It is a place of worship and mysticism. The creation of the human race started with Adam and Eden, and the house is still the shelter of procreation and nurturing. It is a sacred place for human self-cultivation, a retreat from all the distractions of the city, and a school for all the virtues. The spirit of the house participates in and shapes the spirit of the city.

Choosing the location of a house in Fez was a delicate matter. Following a local saying, al-jar qabla ddar (one should choose a neighbor before choosing a house), the quality of one’s neighbors was important for the establishment of an ideal home. Thus, people in Fez competed to live next to the house of a pious scholar (alim) so that they could receive its good influence and adab for themselves and their children. The spiritual ideal was found not only inside a mosque, but also in daily life in the home.

The pious scholars of the Qarawiyin were part of the community. They were not priests separated from the people, but human beings endowed with deeply admired moral and spiritual knowledge. Their frequent interaction with laymen increased the level of education and moral discipline in the city. The Qarawiyin’s circles of knowledge were open to community members, and they deeply influenced the level of consciousness of Ahl Fas. While walking around the complex of the Qarawiyin, one perceives that the shops are firmly joined to it. Shopkeepers have long competed to be close to the Qarawiyin in order to perform their five daily prayers. Being nearby, they could return immediately to their trade, and had the opportunity to attend the numerous teaching sessions conducted by eminent scholars. In his own way, the Fassi shopkeeper became a graduate of the prestigious Qarawiyin University.

The spirit of Fez was also profoundly shaped by the influence of Moorish art and expertise. The spiritual purpose of Idris could not be realized without living knowledge and tangible crafted symbols created by all the arts practiced in Fez. Andalusian philosophy also had a great impact on shaping the city’s social and cultural fabric. The Almoravid and Almohad dynasties made Morocco the first western Muslim empire that stretched into Europe. The encounter between Islam, Christianity, and Judaism in Muslim Spain had a major impact on shaping of the intellect of both modern Europe and Morocco. The memory of Fez is a universal memory.

Under the Almoravids and Almohads, the art of living and craftsmanship developed its own characteristics distinct from those much further to the east. Intellectual development also took a different path. While the Maghrebi and Andalusian schools sought to use rational argument and intellect in religious and secular matters, the Middle Eastern school pursued the path of absolute religious law.

The western Islamic school was represented by prominent scholars, who had a tremendous impact on the European Renaissance. In the period between the defeat of the Almohads in Spain by the Reconquista in 1212 C.E. until the complete withdrawal of Muslims from Spain in 1492 C.E., Fez was a North African center of cultural exchange. As it espoused the Moorish style of arts and gradually distinguished itself from the traditions of the Middle East, Fez exemplified the cities developed in the periphery of the Muslim world. This periphery proved to be an ideal environment for the integration of different cultural, ethnic, and geographical features. Thanks to contributions from this wider world, Islamic art reached its apogee.

Fez became a great city of Western Islam as early as twelfth century. Written testimonies of that period express admiration for the rapid growth of Fez. The geographer, al-Idrisi, offers an exhaustive description of twelfth-century Fez.

The madina of Fez encompasses a large numbers of houses, palaces, and workshops. Its inhabitants are industrious and their architecture has, as their industry, a sense of nobleness. It is bestowed in abundance with all kinds of crafts: its wheat market is better than any of its neighboring areas, and its production of fruits is substantial . . . Fez is the central point of the western Maghrib. . .

At about the same time, an anonymous writer of a manuscript entitled: al-Istibsar also praises the city:
Fez is the hub of the Maghrib may God save it. It is the capital of the region stretching from the Maghrib to Egypt. . . Fez has currently attained its highest level of urbanization and organization…

Fez became a crossroad of all the arts, trades, and peoples, as caravans connected the Saharan lands with the North of Morocco and with Spain. Fez was the meeting place of two contrasting cultures: the nomadic culture of the Sahara, and the sophisticated urban culture of the North. The encounter of these two realms generated its own energy. Although Fez is an urban site with all the characteristics of a city, its spirit is also Saharan and nomadic. This does not mean that it is under-civilized; just the opposite is true: nomads brought to the city many of their human qualities, including generosity, sincerity, dignity, character, and spirituality.

How does a nomad acquire such qualities? The Sahara has always been a harsh milieu, but it is also a source of many virtues. The vacant sands, open vistas with an infinite horizon, the meeting of the blue sky and the land, and the immense void all cultivate a strong sense of contemplation, meditation, and admiration of life. The nomad is in a permanent mobility, seeking water and vegetation. This mobility makes tangible possessions a burden, and provides little opportunity for nomads to erect palaces or store heavy gold objects. The nomad’s treasure consists of enduring qualities of character and intense spirituality.

How does a nomadic tent become a sophisticated house in Fez? Odd as it sounds, the tent and the Fassi daar share many hidden symbolic elements. When one visits a tribal cluster of tents in the desert, it resembles a cohesive community neighborhood in the medina. The tent shelters a close neighbor and tribal member, while the house is an integral unit of a small neighborhood. The impulse to create urban neighborhoods stems from the nomads’ need to group together to optimize the sources of life. Fez’s residential districts also arise from a tribal instinct. This is shown by the settlement of different tribes or rural communities within specific neighborhoods according to their geographic origin in different parts of Morocco. This need for human closeness and identity are manifested in territorial neighborhoods with a strong sense of belonging.

Nomadic roots penetrate Fez. Intangible nomadic virtues are embodied materially in sophisticated crafts, creating a physical realm that goes beyond a mere wall, door, or arch to form unique poetic and spiritual spaces. The city substitutes for the oasis; the man-made oasis replaces the divinely made one. The green city of Fez became throughout history the sacred oasis of Morocco, a place where all the virtues could be cultivated. The medina of Fez embodies the power of the Sahara.

Just as Fez crystallized the intangible spiritual values of nomadic civilization, it expressed other Islamic values through the tangible crafts of al-Andalus. The spirit of Fez is the spirit of an Islamic civilization that did not deny the genius of other faiths and cultures. The capacity of integrating elements of different cultures without rejecting them as “non-Islamic,” opened unlimited paths to the Muslim. Many examples illustrate this remarkable openness. The Bouinaniya madrassa’s main hall of prayers is supported by Greco-Roman marble pillars. The Corinthian capital was utilized as a highly proportional aesthetic element, regardless of its political or cultural connotations, in order to lend majesty to the sacred hall of a mosque. Thus, the adjective “Islamic” does not have a narrow meaning. What is beautiful is universal.
In the same Madrassa, the central stained-glass arched window above the mihrab provides another example. This window is distinct from the other windows in the hall. It replicates a Shammasya, a pierced stucco arabesque filtering rays of light to the inside. But it also uses a stained-glass technique borrowed from Christian churches, although here calligraphic script containing a Quranic verse replaces the usual icon or figure. The medium is the same, but the spiritual content is altered. At the same time, there is a shared impulse to utilize a window filled with light to adorn a sacred place. The essential point is that innovation needs catalysts to bring ideas to fruition. Emulation is not the same as copying. It involves seeking endless possibilities in the new and extraordinary. The use of a Christian element does not make the mosque a church. Instead it reveals the constantly self-transcending nature of the human spiritual human quest. A window becomes a source of inspiration by using the natural light that shines on all creatures. What makes a church or a mosque a sacred zone is not a window in some form, but rather light, the divine creation.

It is the same with water as with light. The fountain is only a way to honor the divine creation. It is not an end in itself, and when there is no water pouring from its spigots, it appears to be dead. The nomad appreciates water as a lifesaving element. In Fez, water is treated with highest respect in accordance with the Quranic verse: “We have made everything alive out of water.” The fountains in Fez are highly decorated. The public fountain of Mulay Hassan in the Tala’a Kbira shows the way in which a spring of water becomes a visual spectacle for the passerby. Since the tenth century, the medina has been equipped with a sophisticated water distribution network. All types of water are channeled and conducted through the intricate urban fabric: rain water, spring water, river waters, and the water of the sewers. As a medium of spiritual purification, wudu’, water has a particular symbolism in the medina. The energy of water is magnified in Fez through its sloping site, which creates all kinds of flows, streams, and falls. The more movement of water there is, the more greenery flourishes in the central courtyards and gardens of the houses and palaces. Water is hence the hidden spirit of Fez.


To be continued

Text and Photos by Hassan Radoine

© Copyright Hassan Radoine

Cultural Heritage Trip to Oman, Architectural Heritage Society of the UAE

The Architectural Heritage Society of the UAE organized a trip to historic sites in the interior of the Sultanate of Oman from 22^nd-24^th November, 2007. Organized and led by Architect Peter Jackson, it brought together 27 participants from 12 different countries and a number of professional backgrounds. Although during the first dinner at the Ibri Hotel few people knew each other, it was clear from the start that all shared a common awareness and enthusiasm for local intangible and tangible heritage, and its significance today.

The first site to be visited was the proto-historic World Heritage designated Bat tombs. Among an area of stone built beehive family tombs, the focal structure is an exquisite community tomb (diameter: 8m, max. height: 2m+) dating back to the 3^rd millennium B.C. Exploring the site, our team was fascinated by the dexterous use of stone to build this primitive man-made mound, which possesses an esoteric cosmological dimension. A concern for death haunted all ancient civilizations, and hence its ceremonial aspect through rituals and funerary monuments.

Leaving Bat graveyard in its distinctive landscape of scattered tombs and rocky outcrops, the group drove southeast toward a related destination, in a caravan of nine cars. The route to Al Ayn’s archaeological site was spectacular between the contrasting scenery of the mountains chains of Jebel Khawr and Jebel Misht.

Al Ayn in Wadi Damm provided further demonstration of an outstanding archaeological setting that espouses the topography of its location. The architecture of the tombs is an extension of the mountain ridge along which they stand, an eerie shadow of the serrated ridge of Jebel Misht behind. Looking up from river level, the line of tombs presented a strong sense of order and majesty. One of us, immediately overwhelmed by the beauty of the site, expressed her intuition: “This is very, very ancient, but look how carefully and thoughtful humans were, with a strong sense of spirituality and meaning … nothing is vain.” These 21 beehive tombs in the vicinity of Ayn village have different shape in comparison to the originally white stone-clad tombs of Bat. There are taller and more conical, their structures meticulously corbelled to create an iconic interior void.

As we attempted to understand the mystery of these structures, we came under the scrutiny of the camera lens during our wonderful interaction with the tombs.

Our next destination was Hisn Jabrin and Hisn Bahla. These two fortified residential and defensive buildings represent the apogee of Omani architecture. The building techniques, their scale, materials, layout, and in their dominance of the landscape, both these forts demonstrate architectural knowledge of both imported and local craft skills. The first is Hisn Jabrin, located in a oasis close to the base of Jebel Akhdar, and built in the 17^th century.

The summer palace of Jabrin possesses a sophisticated internal architecture, which reflects clearly the wealth of the ruling sultans.

The second fort, Hisn Bahla, which overlooks the oasis gardens of Bahla, is more ancient. Its earliest date is thought to be sometime between the 12^th and 15^th centuries. Although the fort is soundly built with a powerful architectural and monumental presence, its high standard of building was beyond the means of the ordinary townspeople who inhabited the neighbouring residential areas. This is reflected in the enormous contrast between the palatial structures and the simpler community environment. Walking through the twisty alleyways of the neighborhood, the houses of different sizes are built with less advanced techniques, and the architectonic details are less crafted. There can be seen a clear distinction between imported crafts and those locally available.

The most fascinating site to be visited after these forts, required a steep drive up a precipitous hairpin mountain road. Here we found the historic village of Misfat Al Abriyin, that has perched for centuries on the flank of Jebel Akhdar. This seemed indeed a legendary village beyond our imagination. The landscape and setting of the village reflects the ingenuity of man, who has moulded the natural circumstances for his/her own means of living. The village is a challenging man-made environment with streets and houses integrating with every rock, stream, tree, slope, and soil to form a single fabric. The village stems out of the site and it is part of it.

The residents of Abriyin were most welcoming to this group of strangers, expressing a strong and kind obligation of hospitality.

While gradually immersing ourselves into the tectonic forms of this mountain village, time took us back to its earliest days in the 16^th century. It was quite overwhelming to come from the high energy consuming streets of Dubai and Sharjah, to the buildings and land within a sustainable historic village, where the sacredness of life feels to be untouched. People’s dress may look simple and modest, but the expressions on their faces bore a strong sense of dignity and intuition. Their distant village became their heaven, and this is why they maintained it for centuries, as was expressed by one shopkeeper beside the main gate into the village.

Moving from the rocky top of the village with the crystal cubic shaped houses and serpentine alleys, the whole village layout directs you down to its main terraced gardens following the flow and sound of water streams, which irrigate equally subdivided plots of vegetables and luxurious date palms owned by the villagers. This community-shared garden is a man-made extension of the buildings, might be interpreted metaphorically extension of the enclosed and semi-covered courtyards within the individual houses.

Misfat Al Abriyin is a living historic village, possessing a mystical dimension that gives its spaces an unfathomable synergy through the subtle distribution of light, simplicity, and the presence of man in an otherwise hostile environment.

This use of the different spaces of the village may seem unusual for tourists who are used to modern urban furniture. The community members gather at the main gate sitting in line against a wall, but each manages to find a chair: a rock, floor, step of a shop, and so forth. The entirely pedestrian street pattern is another feature of this 3-dimensional village, an interlocking rubric cube where the circulation of goods and people has become encoded through the centuries.

We departed Misfat Al Abriyin, still reminiscing about what we had witnessed as a memory of breathing and vibrant heritage, the landscape at sunset breathtaking. The sun perished to give rise to the soft light of a full moon. This was an excellent conclusion for a busy day following Peter Jackson who had guided our large group, each moment having its own pace, interest, and horizon.

The next day, our 4x4 caravan broke itself into groups, each with its own preferred destination. Mine visited first Nizwa Hisn, the interior of Hisn Jabrin, and finally the dramatic caves at Al-Hoota

Nizwa town and Hisn embody the most advanced architectural and urban achievement of the Omani civilization. It is clear from the monumentality and architectural style of the Hisn, built in 1668 C.E. by Imam Sultan Sayf al-Ya’rubi, that the Omani culture had learnt widely through its trade network with Persia, India, and Arabia. The historic commercial area adjacent to the fort has been totally reconstructed as a tourist attraction. However, because of the hard working nature of the Omani, some craftsmen are still practicing their trade such as a metalworkers or tailors. I approached a tailor to seek some insightful information about Nizwa rather than rely on guide books with fancy polished photos and prose. I discovered a precious mine: the living memory of Khamis ben Said Ben Mohamed Ambu Saidi, one of the senior members of the community. His tailors shop is next to the gate leading to Al Hisn.

Khamis’s shop is the gathering place for his elderly friends. At my arrival, they were drinking tea around a plate of dates. I thought the best thing to do was to get a sip of that tea and a taste of those dates!

Khamis provided me with precious details of the history of Nizwa and its region. But time flies, and my group was running fast ahead. This was a historic moment for someone from the western extent of Arabic-Islamic lands and now a guest in its eastern part. Distance here had no meaning since language was fully understood between us, and the tailor is well informed about the history and customs of the Maghreb. While begging the pardon of my hosts in order to catch up my group, who already entered the fort, one of them started chanting a beautiful Maghrebi Sufi song. Although man singing in Oman is a divine gift, I heard a beautiful singing voice echoed by the rocks of Misfat Al Abriyin, and now here, this again has touched me deeply.

The circular Hisn is well constructed and its location in the wadi is very interesting. Its circular diameter is far larger than any other building within the walled district. It is probable that the ruler’s household was secured inside the tower in times of turmoil and siege. This is totally different from the Moroccan Southern Qasabat in the desert: a walled neighborhood without towers, but the layout is the same.

The royal residential parts of the Hisn are well conceived, and modestly decorated. The simplicity of decoration and the use of calligraphy on the ceilings reflect the inclination of the Imam to Islamic tenets of sobriety and abstinence from extravagance. The change of this attitude is proven by the Jabrin Hisn, which was built by the son of the Imam, where decorations and colors became more common. The furniture used now is reconstructed for exhibition purposes.

From Nizwa, our group visited again the Jabrin Hisn, and went afterwards to the recently opened cave of Al Hoota. After the prayer of Dhuhr in a little old mosque outside the Jabrin Hisn, our young students of Architecture form Al Ain University decided to take some photos inside that mosque. Among the most inspiring were that of Hamid pointing his finger to a verse of the Quran that he was arguing about its meaning with his colleague Fahd. I took this opportunity to catch these photos with a superb light piercing the window of this small and austere mosque. This interaction of man with charged spaces engenders unique feelings, experiences, and conducts.

The contrast between the world of man and the world of nature in Oman is remarkable. Moving from these built environments, the most dramatic example of the world of nature was experienced in al Hoota Cave. This natural geological phenomena is a true work of art. Over millions of years the dissolution of limestone by water has resulted in a series of spectacular caves, only recently discovered, and opened for public access. In our first encounter with the interior, there seemed no doubt that these forms were manipulated and created for to fool tourists. But, gradually one understands that this is the entirely the work of natural elements. The stalactites and stalagmites in the cave take on all kind of virtual shapes to inspire the visitor in this obscure realm. Al Hoota cave provides a very different aspect of heritage that requires to be preserved. It reflects the slow working of nature over millions of years. It can provide us with a source of inspiration to create a physical environment in symbiosis with the ecosystems of nature, without destroying their balance.

This stimulating Society weekend together not only exposed us to the beauty and rich variety of Omani heritage in just a small part of the interior, but we were also able to share values and ideas between the many cultures who shared this journey. New friendships and new understandings made this an unforgettable journey of exploration.

Text and photos by Hassan Radoine