Long live illiteracy and down with ignorance

For a long time, it was believed that the “illiterate” person was simply someone who could neither read nor write. This initial idea led to the belief that the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) was “unlettered” in that specific sense. This interpretation was further reinforced by Quranic expressions such as “the unlettered prophet” and “He who has sent among the unlettered a messenger.” To justify the illiteracy of the Prophet Mohammed, it was argued that this was a divine sign and a miracle. It was framed as proof that the Quran is the word of God, as it was deemed inconceivable that such profound discourse could emanate from an illiterate person.

However, the term “unlettered” — or ummi — originally had nothing to do with ignorance or the ability to read and write. It is derived from a Hebrew root meaning “one who does not belong to the Children of Israel,” much like the word a’ajami in Arabic refers to a non-Arab. The “unlettered prophet” is therefore one who does not descend from the Children of Israel; in other words, he is not Jewish. The Quran emphasizes this point because all previous prophets were from the Children of Israel, with the exception of Mohammed. This is clear in the verse: “It is He who has sent among the unlettered a messenger,” meaning among the non-Israelites. These details are extensively developed in Lewis Awad’s work, Introduction to Arabic Philology (Dar Ro’ya Publishing, Cairo, 2006, pp. 147-148). Nevertheless, the erroneous definition of illiteracy as a lack of schooling spread and took hold, becoming so anchored in heritage texts that it is now an unquestionable dogma. It is this common understanding of “illiteracy” and the “unlettered” that we use in this reflection.

Following independence, even though public education had begun under the French protectorate, illiteracy remained widespread. Yet, despite its prevalence during this post-independence era, the unlettered person typically mastered one or more trades or skills. They might be blacksmiths, shepherds, livestock breeders, farmers, weavers, carpenters, masons, plasterers, or merchants. They were also fully engaged in socio-cultural and recreational practices, such as dance and song.

“Ignorance,” as I address it here, is neither the opposite of illiteracy nor a lack of scientific knowledge. A comparison between the “unlettered” and the “ignorant” may help clarify the distinction and define the sense of “ignorant” as used in this article.

When the unlettered person prays, they are indifferent to those who do not, as they pray for themselves and their Creator. In contrast, the ignorant person prays as if to confront and defy those who abstain, whom they label a “forsaker of prayer.” They behave as though prayer derives its legitimacy not from its performance as a religious rite, but from its opposition to those who do not perform it.

The unlettered person believes in superstitions passed down through social tradition. These include stories of talking animals, the legend of Aïcha Kandicha, the wonders of the Arabian Nights, or the epic of Sayf ibn Dhi Yazan as told by traditional storytellers. These are harmless beliefs—simple folk tales tinged with humor and oral literature, narrated for entertainment and moral instruction. The superstitions of the ignorant, however, sow dread and terror. A prime example is the myth of the “torment of the grave,” which they present as an absolute truth. They do not seek to entertain or edify, but to instill panic in the soul.

The unlettered person believes in an afterlife but does not dwell on the details of these metaphorical mysteries. The ignorant person, conversely, makes the fires of hell their favorite subject, describing its torments with bone-chilling detail. If you ask an unlettered person what worries Moroccans most, they will answer: “The high cost of living.” The ignorant person will answer: “The liberation of Palestine.”

The unlettered person views an earthquake as an act of fate and divine will. The ignorant person asserts with certainty that it is an act of divine wrath and vengeance—a punishment inflicted on victims for their sins and transgressions. The unlettered person gives alms to the poor and helps the needy because they believe they deserve it, and because Islam exhorts kindness toward the weak. The ignorant person, when giving alms, does not act out of altruism or humanity, but to accumulate “good deeds” and secure a divine reward.

When using a tractor, a refrigerator, or a washing machine, the unlettered person may spontaneously praise the Christian inventors of these machines. The ignorant person, however, views them as “infidels” unworthy of praise or thanks, even as they use their products and medicines and remain willing to spend a fortune to obtain residency papers in their countries.

The unlettered person earns their living through the sweat of their brow and hard work. The ignorant person may secure an income by practicing “prescribed ruqyah” or other obscurantist and mind-numbing practices that guarantee a steady revenue without labor. When faced with illness, the unlettered person sometimes resorts to traditional folk medicine, such as herbal remedies. The ignorant person will advise “prescribed ruqyah” and “prophetic medicine.”

The unlettered man may wear the traditional cloak he calls the “Moroccan djellaba.” His wife, sister, daughter, or mother might wear a veil covering the head and part of the face—known as the litham in the North, the mlhfa in the South, or the haïk and louina in the East. The ignorant person, however, labels the Moroccan djellaba as “Islamic dress” and demands the replacement of all traditional feminine headwear with what they call the “Islamic hijab.”

These few comparisons suffice to show that the unlettered person—now a vanishing figure—is a being who lives according to a certain natural essence in their existence, behavior, religiosity, and relationships. The ignorant person, by contrast, is not one who lacks knowledge. Rather, they are someone whose “knowledge” exceeds their needs. They are ignorant by an excess of flawed information, not by a deficiency. This surplus of “knowledge” is drawn from erroneous conceptions of the reality and purposes of religion. This gives this form of ignorance a sacred character, such as the myth of the “torment of the grave” or the scams perpetrated under the guise of “prescribed ruqyah,” thereby constructing a sacred ignorance that spreads rapidly through the population.

Where does the ignorant individual derive his “sacred ignorance”—those distorted visions regarding the reality of religion and its objectives? One might find them in books, from preachers, or on the internet. However, the crucial question is not about these sources, which are widespread, well-known, and easily accessible. Rather, it is a question of what predisposes an individual to accept such ideas, to adopt them, and to defend them blindly without a hint of critical thought, as if they were intangible religious truths.

There is no doubt that the educational system plays an undeniable role in this process. By force-feeding students a glorification of the past and through university departments specialized in that same ossified heritage, the system prepares minds to embrace these theses without discussion or the slightest doubt regarding their authenticity. Had these institutions taught students critical thinking—the kind that interrogates alleged certainties and examines all ideas, theories, and interpretations before embracing them—sacred ignorance would never have found such fertile ground to flourish and spread.

I am by no means suggesting that all ideas and theories that do not conform to reality—those taking the form of beliefs, myths, or legends—should be immediately rejected and banned simply because they are false. What ought to be rejected and proscribed are those mythical beliefs whose harm is clear and proven: those that incite hatred, call for the excommunication of those with different thoughts or faiths, demean women by violating their rights, or present a terrifying image of religion and God by brandishing the specter of otherworldly punishment. The greatest peril of this sacred ignorance is that it stands as an insurmountable obstacle to any progress or renaissance.

As for religious, mythical, or legendary beliefs that do not hinder freedom of thought, criticism, and conscience—while remaining responsible, of course—and which form the fabric of inherited social traditions, there is no need to reject them. Human beings cannot live without beliefs or myths. The Japanese, for example, maintain traditions deeply steeped in myths that logic might reject and reason might refuse. Yet they have preserved them because they constitute a heritage that does not stall development or progress. The proof lies in the fact that they reached their current level of advancement without having to renounce the mythical portion of their heritage.

In contrast, the mythical part of our own heritage, endowed with a religious seal that grants it the status of sacred ignorance, is in direct conflict with the social, cultural, and intellectual requirements of growth and progress. Six centuries ago in Europe, sacred ignorance reigned supreme, legislating, dethroning, and consecrating. It governed everything. But Europeans managed to liberate themselves from their sacred ignorance without necessarily having to eradicate it entirely. They learned to discern what belonged to authentic science, which they taught and encouraged, from what belonged to ordinary ignorance, which they fought through quality education, and finally from sacred ignorance, built on falsified knowledge. They restricted the scope of the latter, limited its influence, and assigned it a very specific place so that it would no longer interfere in the organization of society, the interpretation of natural laws, the healing of diseases, or the management of state affairs. In our society, however, the only distinction we make between science and sacred ignorance is that we consider the latter a nobler and higher form of knowledge than the former.

The illiterate person I once spoke of, who led an existence dictated by a form of original purity, has perhaps vanished, or exists only as a rare exception. The illiterates I refer to are those who lived before the 1980s. If they have left our world, it is not only because public schools significantly reduced illiteracy, but because ignorance—in the sense I have defined it—now attacks the illiterate themselves. The illiterate person of that bygone era did not resort to “prescribed roqya,” a concept that was unknown and absent from the public sphere at the time. Today, however, even the few remaining illiterates have become the preferred clientele of roqya practitioners due to the spread and hegemony of sacred ignorance.

If the educational institution, as we have noted, conditions minds to accept and produce sacred ignorance, the carriers of this ignorance then spread it to the illiterate through oral tradition, corrupting their naturally sound disposition. This is how ignorance triumphs and reigns. While the public school has largely succeeded in reducing illiteracy, it has, in exchange, bred ignorance—and worse, the most dangerous kind: sacred ignorance draped in religion. Until the early 1980s, the public school in Morocco played a vital role in the fight against illiteracy and in the useful training of learners, notably by equipping them with the tools of critical thinking. This thinking subjects every truth, idea, or opinion to the scrutiny of analysis and critique. Subsequently, for political and ideological reasons, the educational system—including both public schools and higher education—became an active agent in the production and dissemination of this sacred ignorance, with Arabization serving as one of its major mechanisms of manufacture and spread.

If I have praised illiteracy and highlighted some of its virtues, it is not because it is a value in itself, but only when weighed against sacred ignorance. In and of itself, illiteracy remains the greatest obstacle to progress and renaissance. The imperative today is not to retreat toward illiteracy, but to reform the educational institution so that it once again becomes a vehicle for the dissemination of true science, rather than this sacred ignorance fed by sham and distorted knowledge.

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