From Juan Vamosjuntos
Like many in Altizourus I have been deeply dismayed by the allegations that His Grace, Don Franciso Antonio Montes de Oca, Duke of Chiclana had anything whatsoever to do with the recent case involving the tragic death of an American national. Again, like many other readers of La Opinión, it is my belief that the allegations against the Duke have more to do with his decision to publish an ‘open letter’ to Steven Chong proposing Farangi as an official language for the Altizourus region. I write not to offer my view on the ongoing court case, though no one who has met the Duke could ever conceive of his involvement in anything of that nature, nor to offer an opinion on His Grace’s views on the future of our region: I will limit myself to looking at the real cause of the furore – the fact that the letter was written in the so-called ‘Euopean Darija’, ‘Petit Mauresque’ or ‘Farangi’ as it is now more commonly known.
Long-dismissed as ‘merely’ the language of the gutter, Farangi is spoken by almost everyone on the Altizourus peninsula. Farangi, like all living languages, is in a constant flux of evolution and, as Altizourus steadily approaches the 21st century, it is Farangi rather than orthodox Spanish that leads the way. Endlessly mixing elements of other languages – Tamazigh, Arabic, Turkish, Greek - on what is, essentially, a base of Provencal makes Farangi equally welcoming on both the Northern and Southern shores of the Mediterranean and therefore uniquely suited to our unique demographic. Rather than seeking to provoke, it is my view that His Grace, in his open letter, is merely acknowledging the unspoken fact that the language of everyday interaction, of the cafes and of commerce, of the popular radio stations and, albeit tentatively, of television and the popular press is Farangi. The best analogy is with the early Middle Ages in Europe when Spanish, French and so on were beginning to carve out their own identities separate from Latin. I am sure that Mr Chong does not see himself as a latter-day Nero, or Giulio Cesare, fiddling in the Office of the District Commissioner, issuing edicts in flawless Castellano whilst, oblivious, an increasingly alienated populace mutter darkly in Farangi.
Still we hear people asking – but is it a real language? The fact is that variants of Provencal-based Farangi have been spoken in and around the peninsula and the Barbary Coast since, at least, the mid-sixteenth century. In that regard, it has a substantially longer history than what we now call Spanish.
Altizourus was once synonymous with literary greatness. The poets Cavafy and Garcia Lorca have long been associated with the town. Tennessee Williams revised his famous work, ‘Suddenly Last Summer’ here, thirty years ago. Yet, while in the more advanced parts of Spain and throughout Europe we have seen an explosion of literary and cultural activity, particularly from the 1960s onwards, no such activity has taken place in Altizourus, once the abode of Mechero, Edward Compton Jeffreys, Tennessee Williams, Lorca and Mojácar along with a very long etcetera. In common with the role that classical Arabic plays in some Maghrebi countries, the use of Castellano in political and artistic discourse is increasingly isolated, increasingly dislocated from the experience of ordinary people. For decades this has had the effect of muzzling literary endeavour, at least in its more formal expression in the novel or verse. There is, however, no means of muzzling popular culture. Therefore, rather than condemn the Duke for his use of Farangi in a formal address to the ODC we should commend both his understanding of the popular voice and his readiness to address ‘the elephant in the room’.
In this context Wahid Habeeb’s first novel in Farangi, ‘El Mariya’, The Watcher, published by Príncipe Mercader Editorial, marks a turning point in the renaissance of our literary expression. In defence of the ODC, I must note that a personal contact at local bookseller, ‘Voltaire and Rousseau’ has confirmed that the shortage of copies of this book is entirely due to unforeseen levels of demand and not to any sinister embargo or censorship, as some have suggested.
Inherent in the ongoing discussion of Altizourus’s future in Europe is the notion of our identity. Identity cannot be separated from language. ‘Lfaqt, in the cafes on Avenue D’Espagne, in the medina and, above all, in the areas around the port our identity is Farangi. Why is this? Why has Farangi carried the day when all around there is the gravitational pull of Darija and Tamazight? The answer must be that Farangi is not associated with any one ethnic group. In the kind harbour of Farangi, all are welcome. In common with all ports in the Mediterranean, Altizourus is a melting pot of races and cultures. This is simply a fact of life and a product of our physical location next to the sea. The ODC ‘Como el agua’ campaign for a better level of Castellano is not the answer to our problems. The time has come to recognise the dominant place that Farangi has taken both in the peninsula and elsewhere and to take steps to recognise Farangi as an official language alongside Castellano. There is a clear precedent for this in Catalonia not to mention Gallicia and many other parts of Europe. Farangi alone is able to bring together the disparate elements that come together to create the Tizourien identity.
La Opinión is to be commended not only for the review of Habeeb’s novel but for the regular articles in Farangi in the Saturday edition. However, as Shakespeare said, ‘There is a tide in the affairs of men’. If La Opinión were to take this tide ‘at the flood’ and devote more pages to Farangi it could help to lead our uniquely Mediterranean identity into the future.
From Professor Clovis Grizbec, Ibn Batuta School of Cartographic Science, Altizourus
Why is there all this fuss about the use of Farangi in public life? Farangi and Altizourus are inseparable. The very name ‘Altizourus’ itself derives from ‘Tissus Russes’, the so-called Russian Cloth though we know now that in reality it came from Antalya in what is now Turkey that was traded here so successfully by merchants from Atarabulis in the late 17th Century. Before then, the city had beenknown by its Catalá name: Els Tesors.
The scholarly endeavour expended on extricating a Tamazigh cognate of Altizourus from inscriptions on ancient pottery is misguided. There is nothing to find. Given that there is no evidence to support the assertion that ‘Altizourus’ was ever an Arabic or Tamazigh place name and given the wealth of historical, archaeological and literary evidence to support the ‘Tissus Russes’ it is indeed surprising still to hear linguistic axes being ground in favour of a Tamzigh root. One can only assume that the persons involved in this sharpening have an ulterior motive? We all know where we live and we have no need to follow circuitous routes in and out of Sanskrit in order to have a good grasp of our history or our future.
From David ‘D.D.’ Davidovitch
I write further to your recent article on the use of Farangi in day-to-day life. As a proud Altizourien of Russian extraction I am surprised to see references in your publication to the origin of the name of our city as having to do with Russian merchants. When I was at school in the 1960s we were taught that the Tizourus name came from ancient Sanskrit where ‘tasar’ means ‘shuttle’. I understood that the ‘Tissus Russes’ theory was simply a fabrication and that the weaving took place on this peninsula long before any Russian merchants were around. What I find particularly extraordinary is that unlike other advanced areas of Europe we are unable to come to a clear conclusion. I would like to take this opportunity to suggest that the ODC should instigate an academic task force charged with clearing this up, once and for all.
From Madame Rachel Greenberg – Honorary Chairperson, Al Tizourus Lepidoptery Society
Sir
Please do not print nonsense about moths. The tussore silk moth is not found in Altizourus. Members of the genus Antheraea known as tussah, tussore, tussuris or oak moths are found only in Asia.