The words of our professor, Si Mahmoud Knight Marzouk, may God have mercy on him, still ring in my ears, as he said it one day while I was studying history and geography with him in the second year of intermediate education at Ibn Khaldoun College in Souk Ahras. He told us: “If trousers were worn freely, many males would not wear them.”
A simple phrase in its words, profound in its meaning, that summarizes for us the essence of what some nations and peoples are experiencing today: What is given by someone else does not belong to you, and what is worn with the consent of others is quickly removed when others change their mind. This was the case with the Kingdom of Morocco: many of the sultans and then the kings who sat on the thrones of government in Morocco thought that they were “wearing” sovereignty and decision-making, while in reality they did not have a license for it on their own – rather, their license was sealed with the seals of distant capitals, useful as long as relations were good, and withdrawn when the winds changed.
The story of the film “The Message” is not just the story of a cinematic work that faced obstacles and then saw the light; Rather, it is an honest mirror that completely reflects this story: a king who willingly agreed, then he was ordered and obeyed, and he expelled from his land those who were building cultural glory on it. They were only guilty because those “licensed” to speak in another country told them: Go away.
It is the story of someone who does not have the license to maintain his position, when the matter comes to him who has the real decision.
I will tell you how the story began with complete approval, and then ended with a request to stop and leave within a period not exceeding two weeks – not because the project changed, nor because
Because violations appeared, but rather because a decision from outside the Kingdom of Morocco imposed itself on the decision of King Hassan II.
At the heart of these events is the stark paradox: what no one accepts on his land is imposed on others without shame. Then comes the turn of those who have the courage and ability to embrace what was rejected, and the message is transmitted from a governed country to a decision-making country.
1- Approval and the beginning: Morocco embraces the dream
In the early 1970s, the “The Message” project was not just a film; Rather, it was an Arab and Islamic ambition to narrate the rise of the Islamic call in a contemporary language, with respect befitting its status, far from the Orientalist views that had always treated it with distance or distortion. When the great director Mustafa Akkad presented his project to King Hassan II, he found a warm response and full welcome. This welcome was not spontaneous; King Hassan II saw in this work a rare opportunity: for the Kingdom of Morocco to become a regional and global platform for the story of Islam, and for it to be known as an incubator of Islamic culture and heritage, and why not, since he is the Commander of the Faithful and the guardian of the Messenger of God, may God bless him and grant him peace.
Official approval was issued, and all facilities were available: locations were allocated, a replica of the Holy City of Mecca was built in the “Ait Bouchant” area near Marrakesh, manpower and logistical facilities were available, and filming actually began in April 1974. Work continued for a full five months, during which nothing stopped, and the Moroccan authorities did not express any reservations. On the contrary, the commitment was complete, and the support was clear, as if the project was part of the cultural identity of the Kingdom of Morocco.
In those months, there was nothing to suggest that this embrace would suddenly turn into sudden and massive anger with the expulsion. There were no flaws in the scenario—it was reviewed and approved by religious bodies—no irregularities occurred in its implementation, and King Hassan II’s vision for the project did not change. Everything was going as planned, until a demand came from abroad that turned the budget upside down.
2- The decisive moment: when he is asked to stop and leave
In August of the same year, after the crew had settled and part of the filming had been completed, King Hassan II summoned director Mustafa Akkad and informed him of a sudden decision: to stop work immediately, and for all team members to leave for Morocco within just two weeks. This decision did not stem from free national will; Rather, it came in response to direct pressure exerted on him by an allied Arab country.
The leader of the state linked his attendance to the Islamic summit scheduled in Rabat to a specific situation: either he will stop the film, or he will be absent from attendance. This was not just a personal stance; Rather, it was a threat to withdraw the political and financial support that the Kingdom of Morocco desperately needed at that critical stage, as the Western Sahara issue was entering the stage of preparation and anticipation, and Morocco was counting on Arab support to consolidate its position.
Thus, King Hassan II was faced with an unenviable choice: either maintain the alliance and external support, or maintain a cultural project
It may cost him dearly in an issue he considers existential. He chose to compromise, even if the price was high and would harm the reputation of the king and the kingdom.
The reason was not clearly announced at the time, and was limited to a request to leave, but the truth was clear to observers: the sovereignty decision had been subject to external will. King Hassan II of Morocco was not as free in his decision as he was months ago. Rather, his reaction became dependent on what was dictated to him by other capitals.
3- The blatant irony: If the matter had been asked the other way around
Let us stand here before a hypothetical question that carries within it a revelation of the balance of power: What if the days had passed and King Hassan II had asked the head of state to stop filming the film – if it had been scheduled in his country – would he have agreed?
The answer, with all the weights and facts, is no, and in the strongest form of rejection. The leader of the state would not have accepted interference in the affairs of his country, and would have responded immediately and firmly: “This is our land, and we are the ones who decide what is done on it and what is not.” To use the arguments of sovereignty and national decision that are usually raised when the situation arises
Strong. No one would have been allowed to determine what would be photographed in his country, nor would he have linked a visit or attendance to stopping a cultural activity.
Here the double standards that govern relations between states are revealed: what is considered a “duty right” when dictated by force, becomes “unacceptable interference.”
When force is required. Objection to the film The Message itself was not the issue; Rather, it was the ability to impose an opinion. Whoever has influence imposes his conditions in the name of religion, sovereignty, or interest, and whoever needs support obeys at all costs.
This paradox does not lie in the difference in religious position – opinions on jurisprudence differ – but in the fact that banning the film The Message from the lands of others was considered a “legitimate demand,” while banning it from their lands would have been considered an “infringement on sovereignty.” Thus, it becomes clear that standards are not measured by the subject of the right, but by those who have the reins of the decision.
4- Rescued from surprise: Libya embraces what was rejected
At that moment when the project was about to collapse, there was no one to extend a helping hand except leader Muammar Gaddafi. When he learned what had happened, he offered to host the film in Libya and bear all the costs involved in transportation, reconstruction, and filming. This position was not merely a desire to support Islamic action; Rather, in essence, it was a political position that reflected a desire to break the monopoly on cultural and religious decision-making practiced by other Arab countries at the time. Gaddafi agreed immediately, and possibilities were available without restrictions: elements that could be moved were transferred, sites in the Libyan desert were rebuilt, and work resumed in October 1974 and continued until May 1975.
Libya incurred significant additional costs, exceeding millions of dollars, which were not reduced or recovered, and the goal was clear: for the work to be accomplished, and for the world to be told that what was rejected by a royal authority in Morocco was embraced by a young republic that had eliminated the monarchy only about five years ago.
Thus, the project moved from a kingdom that submitted to pressure to a republic that wanted to demonstrate its independence. The Libyan position was not devoid of influence and regional competition, but in return it provided protection and continuity for a project that was almost destroyed in its infancy, which no one else did at that critical moment.
5- The decision is subject to foreign affairs
The story of “The Message” remains blatant evidence of a reality that the Kingdom of Morocco and other countries have long suffered from: that a national decision does not remain national when the nation depends for its security and stability on foreign support.
Events have shown that freely given consent can be withdrawn by outside pressure, and that cultural projects – which should be the bastion of intellectual independence – are the first to be sacrificed when interests intersect.
What happened is not attributable to just one person; Rather, it is a recurring pattern in the history of the Moroccan Makhzen: when the decision depends on what is said in other capitals, those in power have no choice but to agree, postpone, or withdraw. The Moroccan warehouse in this story was not a decision maker; Rather, it was a scene where a decision was taken outside of it, a work crew was established and then removed, and a project was embraced and then abandoned under pressure from outside.
But all this reveals that true independence is not spoken in speeches; It is that you have the right to refuse when you receive a request from abroad, and to complete what you started without anyone changing your decision. This is what was not available in the movie “The Message” in the Kingdom of Morocco, and it is what remains the basic requirement of King Mohammed VI if he truly has control over his decision.
The film “The Message” was made in English and Arabic, and was shown to the world, and is still being shown today, tomorrow, and the day after, and it has remained in the memories of the Islamic and international peoples, longer than those who prevented it and those who stopped it.
But the indelible lesson is that a cultural message is not written only by what it presents to people; But it is also written who has the right to decide it and who
Others lead it.
Thus, the question remains open: When will creativity and decision-making be written in the kingdom of fourteen centuries by the hands of his king and not by orders coming from afar?
