I think Ms Slimani ought to familarise herself with the works of Edward Said, Frantz Fanon, as well as Said Graiouid and other post colonial writers, thinkers, and activists, because In the Country of Others feels like an exercise in Orientalism written to appeal to the French gaze.
At first I thought that Slimani was being intentional by having us see Morocco through the eyes of her white, French, bourgeois protagonist, Mathilde. I thought she was using her disdain for Moroccanness, and her desire to raise her mixed-raced children in a French-Catholic manner, was an intentional showcase of how colonisers impose themselves and their ideals onto an indigenous population. Her love for Morocco is strictly limited to her husband -- whom she constantly talks of in fetishist terms. The darkness of his skin, his African-ess, his smell, the way he moves across a room or makes love to her are the qualities that endear her to him. Yet, she wants him to behave and act like a Frenchman. And, in many ways, he does. I thought this was akin to how French colonisers were enamoured with the idea of North African mysticism and eroticism, whilst also brutally beating down the Moroccan identity.
But Mathilde's and Amine's relationship is not an allegory for the coloniser and the colonised. There's no sympathy for Amine's condition as a colonised person who was forced to fight on the front line for his coloniser. Experiencing two-fold humiliation first at the hands of the French government, and then in a German POW camp. Instead, he is softened by his ambivalence to the Moroccan revolutionary cause; his decision to remain apolitical whilst the French government and military brutalise Moroccans on a daily basis, he can keep himself separate on his farm surrounded by the estates of French colonists.
Indeed, it his Frenchness that sets him apart from the rest of the Moroccans in the story. Who are all described in such crude terms. Each embodying an orientalist stereotype about North African people. Amine's mother is excessively superstitious and is inhibited by the oppressiveness of her men in the family; Omar is a violent Arab man whose participation in the revolution is framed as being a result of excessive anger and hatred, as opposed to the trauma of colonisation; the Amazigh people who work on Amine's and Mathilde's farm are disgustingly filthy and don't know how to bathe. Even though they're all Muslims and ritual ablution is a fundamental part of Islam. Yet, they need Mathilde and her European sensibilities to teach them how to keep clean.
The only Moroccan character who is framed in a positive light is Selma, but that's because she hates being Moroccan. She has a French boyfriend, she dresses like a Parisian, she doesn't care for Meknes and wants to go to Europe or America. Its her rejection of the Moroccan identity that endears her in the narrative. Even then, she rejects education and has a ravenous appetite for sex despite being what...fourteen? fifteen?
I think the most obvious confirmation that Slimani is writing from a perspective that sympathises with the French colonialist lens is how she describes the old Frenchwoman, who lives in Meknes, and has embraced Moroccan culture and supports the independence movement. The woman lives in a ramshackle riad where rats are abound and the roof is leaking and carries with her a host of superstitions. Morocco has robbed her of her cleanliness and her rationality. In the way it robs Mathilde of her freedom, beauty, and effervescent spirit. When she briefly returns to France she is transformed: no longer is she mistaken for a poor Arab woman, despite her gargantuan height, pale skin, and thin blonde hair, now she can look like at an ACTRESS.
Its all so laughably white feminist to me. Especially the parts that go on about how Mathilde had so much more freedom in France even though French women weren't allowed to vote until 1946 and marital rape wasn't criminalised until 1990. And its not like the life of the 1950s European and American housewife was particularly liberating, either. There's not a hint of irony in the prose when Mathilde peruses through European magazines on how to be a better housewife. Just because you're wearing Revlon lipstick and a tea dress, it does not mean you're liberated. Your white husband who works in marketing will just be the one to smash your face in when dinner isn't fixed up properly, instead of a smelly Arab farmer. Patriarchy is a universally applied system of power that's not exclusive to one race or another. If anything, colonialism only served to exacerbate patriarchy by creating strict hierarchies of which men were deserving of dignity (read: white upper class) and which were canon fodder (the poor, non white, disabled, black, etc).
Moreover, Moroccan women (as with other women living under French colonialism) were often trafficked and forced into sexual slavery by the French military forces. New forms of homemade contraception were invented by these women to prevent them from getting pregnant or catching STDs. Morocco was one of the most favoured hotspots for sex tourism during the 19th and 20th centuries. Yet, there's not a peep to be said about it. Interesting...
I wanted to give Slimani the benefit of the doubt because I know she drew upon her own family's experience, but after finding out she's buddy-buddy with Macron, who glorifies French colonialism and has been constantly encroaching on the sovereignty of the former French colonies in Africa and the ME, I knew that there was no room for doubt with In the Country of Others . Leila Slimani is peddling racist stereotypes about Arabs and Muslims for a French gaze. For a country that still denies the brutality of its colonial past. That still benefits from it TO THIS DAY -- controlling much of the natural resources in its former colonies AND continuing to demand reparations from Haiti. That out of left field ending where Aicha is suddenly radicalised by the revolutionary spirit was so disjointed and a clear way to sell the sequel.
This book, and Leila Slimani, can kindly go fuck.