In order to fully understand the significance of the marabout in Matisse’s art, it is first imperative to grasp the intrusion of France into Moroccan affairs preceding Matisse’s arrival, and the significant reactionary role that the marabout saint played in the context of that colonization. France had actually demonstrated significant interest in Morocco from a commercial standpoint beginning in the 1890’s and engaged in military intervention to actualize its aims as early as 1900 (Burke, 44-45) French expansion in North Africa continued throughout the first decade of the twentieth century and resulted in Morocco becoming an official French protectorate in 1912 under the Treaty of Fez (Burke, xxii) In fact, the signing of this treaty predates Matisse’s arrival in Morocco by only a few months. This transformation of Morocco from a Sultanate to a French colony lasted over a decade and met at times with fierce resistance.
Here is where the marabout comes in. Known in Arabic as murabtin, marabouts occupied a special place in Morocco’s predominantly Islamic society. Said to be descended of holy men, the marabouts possessed baraka, or divine grace, and were viewed as saints (Dunn, 42) They took leadership roles in their communities, often mediating local disagreements, but equally important, they were the driving force behind organized resistance to European colonial expansion. Ross Dunn in his book Resistance in the Desert writes that “Neither Mahdism or militant Sufism offered transcendent solutions for the people of southeastern Morocco, and large-scale resistance was in the end an unqualified failure. Yet it was only through ‘maraboutism’ that such resistance was undertaken at all”(Dunn, 253) This “maraboutism” that Dunn notes should not be cast aside simply because it failed to fend off a superior French military machine. That these saints were able to foment opposition at all speaks volumes about their influence among Moroccan communities. Marabout families were prominent in the oases that the French would later consider primary objectives, so it is no surprise that they would embody popular resistance to aggressive French maneuvering.
When the dust settled, however, France prevailed and the Mediterranean city of Tangier was symbolic of the triumphant Europeans. In an early nineteenth century publication by Robert Kerr, Tangier is described as “the seat of European diplomacy” with a rather equally mixed population of Muslims, Jews, and Christians (qtd. Cowart, 153) Spanish and French nationals inhabited the city, and even an Anglican church was present. Indeed, Jack Cowart, in an essay on Matisse’s drawings, writes, “One heard not only the Christian bells, but also the muezzins calling Muslims to prayer”(Cowart, 147) In this passage, it is important to note that Cowart mentions the church bells first. In fact, taken out of context this could be the description of a cosmopolitan European capital, like Paris or Madrid. His order of presentation, whether intentional or not, evidences the claim that Tangier no longer existed as a quintessentially Islamic city. Instead, is physical proximity to Europe had by 1912 transformed the city into a conglomeration of East and West. This tourist destination would have provided the artist with new subjects and new artistic ideas in a sunny, exotic environment. Depicting structures, especially uniquely Islamic ones, would have given him a new arena to express himself. Though the nature of Tangier had changed, the city surely maintained at least some of its distinctly Islamic features, most prominently the mosque and the marabout tombs. These saints’ tombs served to contrast with the newly arrived European presence.
(pictured above)The French Foreign Legion in Morocco, 1937, Henri Manuel