Post by Sir X. Pol Briga on Jan 29, 2015 19:05:03 GMT -6
US Cestours South Carolina Circuit Court Judge John C. Hayes III recently said 'We cannot rewrite history, but we can right history.'
To that end, I am petitioning the Cort pü Inalt to symbolically reverse takings from a man named Cohen resulting from an incident in Morrocco in 1912 as documented by Clifford Geertz in "Thick Description: Toward an Interpretive Theory of Culture" [1973], the 'thick description' being borrowed as a notion of British philosopher Gilbert Ryle (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gilbert_Ryle] who in writings described an incident. The following description of issues are related to misdeeds of French authorities in Morocco to a Mr. Cohen and some of our Talossan Berber ancestors, who also resisted French occupation there, just as Talossans have resisted occupiers of The Sovereign Province of Cézembre. In this case, an equitable decision made between Cohen and Berber tribes was disrupted by the French. That situation should be redressed, even if in an emblematic way, and even if more than 100 years later.
“The French [the informant said] had only just arrived. They set up twenty or so small forts between here, the town, and the Marmusha area up in the middle of the mountains, placing them on promontories so they could survey the countryside. But for all this they couldn’t guarantee safety, especially at night, so although the mezrag (trade-pact) system was supposed to be legally abolished, it in fact continued as before.
One night, when Cohen (who speaks fluent Berber) was up there (at Marmusha) two other Jews who were traders to a neighboring tribe came by to purchase some goods from him. Some Berbers —from yet another neighboring tribe— tried to break into Cohen’s place, but he fired his rifle in the air. (Traditionally, Jews were not allowed to carry weapons; but at this period things were so unsettled many did so anyway.) This attracted the attention of the French and the marauders fled.
The next night, however, they came back, and one of them disguised as a woman who knocked on the door with some sort of a story. Cohen was suspicious and didn’t want to let “her” in, but the other Jews said: “oh, it’s all right, it’s only a woman.” So they opened the door and the whole lot came pouring in. They killed the two visiting Jews, but Cohen managed to barricade himself in an adjoining room. He heard the robbers planning to burn him alive in the shop after they removed his goods, and so he opened the door and —laying about him wildly with a club— managed to escape through a window.
He went up to the fort (then) to have his wounds dressed, and complained to the local commandant, one Captain Dumari, saying he wanted his ‘ar — i.e. four or five times the value of the merchandise stolen from him. The robbers were from a tribe which had not yet submitted to French authority and were in open rebellion against it, and he wanted authorization to go with his mezrag-holder, the Marmusha tribal sheikh, to collect the indemnity that, under traditional rules, he had coming to him. Captain Dumari couldn’t officially give him permission to do this —because of the French prohibition of the mezrag relationship— but he gave him verbal authorization saying, “If you get killed, it’s your problem.”
So the sheikh, the Jew, and a small company of armed Marmushans went off ten or fifteen kilometers up into the rehellious area, where there were of course no French, and, sneaking up, captured the thief-tribe’s shepherd and stole its herds. The other tribe soon came riding out on horses after them armed with rifles and ready to attack. But when they saw who the “sheep thieves” were, they thought better of it and said, “all right, we’ll talk.” They couldn’t really deny what had happened —that some of their men had robbed Cohen and killed the two visitors— and they weren’t prepared to start the serious feud with the Marmusha, a scuffle with the invading party would bring on. So the two groups talked, and talked, and talked, there on the plain amid the thousands of sheep, and decided finally on five-hundred-sheep damages. The two armed Berber groups then lined up on their horse at opposite ends of the plain with the sheep herded between them, and Cohen, in his black gown, pillbox hat, and flapping slippers, went out alone among the sheep, picking out, one by one and at his own good speed, the best ones for his payment.
So Cohen got his sheep and drove them back to Marmusha. The French, up in their fort, heard them coming from some distance (“Ba, ba, ba” said Cohen, happily, recalling the image) and said, “What the hell is that?” Cohen said “That is my ‘ar.” The French couldn’t believe he had actually done what he said he had done, and accused him of being a spy for the rebellious Berbers, put him in prison, and took his sheep. In the town, his family, not having heard from him in so long a time, thought he was dead. But after a while the French released him and he came back home, but without his sheep. He then went to the Colonel in the town, the Frenchman in charge of the whole region, to complain. But the Colonel said, “I can’t do anything about the matter. It’s not my problem.” an incident in Morrocco in 1912 as documented by Clifford Geertz in "Thick Description: Toward an Interpretive Theory of Culture" [1973], the 'thick description' being borrowed as a notion of British philosopher Gilbert Ryle (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gilbert_Ryle]
“The French [the informant said] had only just arrived. They set up twenty or so small forts between here, the town, and the Marmusha area up in the middle of the mountains, placing them on promontories so they could survey the countryside. But for all this they couldn’t guarantee safety, especially at night, so although the mezrag, trade-pact, system was supposed to be legally abolished it in fact continued as before.
One night, when Cohen (who speaks fluent Berber) was up there (at Marmusha) two other Jews who were traders to a neighboring tribe came by to purchase some goods from him. Some Berbers —from yet another neighboring tribe— tried to break into Cohen’s place, but he fired his rifle in the air. (Traditionally, Jews were not allowed to carry weapons; but at this period things were so unsettled many did so anyway.) This attracted the attention of the French and the marauders fled.
The next night, however, they came back, and one of them disguised as a woman who knocked on the door with some sort of a story. Cohen was suspicious and didn’t want to let “her” in, but the other Jews said: “oh, it’s all right, it’s only a woman.” So they opened the door and the whole lot came pouring in. They killed the two visiting Jews, but Cohen managed to barricade himself in an adjoining room. He heard the robbers planning to burn him alive in the shop after they removed his goods, and so he opened the door and —laying about him wildly with a club— managed to escape through a window.
He went up to the fort (then) to have his wounds dressed, and complained to the local commandant, one Captain Dumari, saying he wanted his ‘ar — i.e. four or five times the value of the merchandise stolen from him. The robbers were from a tribe which had not yet submitted to French authority and were in open rebellion against it, and he wanted authorization to go with his mezrag-holder, the Marmusha tribal sheikh, to collect the indemnity that, under traditional rules, he had coming to him. Captain Dumari couldn’t officially give him permission to do this —because of the French prohibition of the mezrag relationship— but he gave him verbal authorization saying, “If you get killed, it’s your problem.”
So the sheikh, the Jew, and a small company of armed Marmushans went off ten or fifteen kilometers up into the rehellious area, where there were of course no French, and, sneaking up, captured the thief-tribe’s shepherd and stole its herds. The other tribe soon came riding out on horses after them armed with rifles and ready to attack. But when they saw who the “sheep thieves” were, they thought better of it and said, “all right, we’ll talk.” They couldn’t really deny what had happened —that some of their men had robbed Cohen and killed the two visitors— and they weren’t prepared to start the serious feud with the Marmusha, a scuffle with the invading party would bring on. So the two groups talked, and talked, and talked, there on the plain amid the thousands of sheep, and decided finally on five-hundred-sheep damages. The two armed Berber groups then lined up on their horse at opposite ends of the plain with the sheep herded between them, and Cohen, in his black gown, pillbox hat, and flapping slippers, went out alone among the sheep, picking out, one by one and at his own good speed, the best ones for his payment.
So Cohen got his sheep and drove them back to Marmusha. The French, up in their fort, heard them coming from some distance (“Ba, ba, ba” said Cohen, happily, recalling the image) and said, “What the hell is that?” Cohen said “That is my ‘ar.” The French couldn’t believe he had actually done what he said he had done, and accused him of being a spy for the rebellious Berbers, put him in prison, and took his sheep. In the town, his family, not having heard from him in so long a time, thought he was dead. But after a while the French released him and he came back home, but without his sheep. He then went to the Colonel in the town, the Frenchman in charge of the whole region, to complain. But the Colonel said, “I can’t do anything about the matter. It’s not my problem.”
In this petition I am seeking approval by the Cort is for the issuance of a finding of taking and a certificate containing among other details the image of a sheep and the number 500 and a statement that private property in not to be taken for public use, without just compensation (in this case to Cohen in 1912) to be delivered to the L'Etats de Cézembre for further action.
Sincerely,
X. Pol Briga
To that end, I am petitioning the Cort pü Inalt to symbolically reverse takings from a man named Cohen resulting from an incident in Morrocco in 1912 as documented by Clifford Geertz in "Thick Description: Toward an Interpretive Theory of Culture" [1973], the 'thick description' being borrowed as a notion of British philosopher Gilbert Ryle (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gilbert_Ryle] who in writings described an incident. The following description of issues are related to misdeeds of French authorities in Morocco to a Mr. Cohen and some of our Talossan Berber ancestors, who also resisted French occupation there, just as Talossans have resisted occupiers of The Sovereign Province of Cézembre. In this case, an equitable decision made between Cohen and Berber tribes was disrupted by the French. That situation should be redressed, even if in an emblematic way, and even if more than 100 years later.
“The French [the informant said] had only just arrived. They set up twenty or so small forts between here, the town, and the Marmusha area up in the middle of the mountains, placing them on promontories so they could survey the countryside. But for all this they couldn’t guarantee safety, especially at night, so although the mezrag (trade-pact) system was supposed to be legally abolished, it in fact continued as before.
One night, when Cohen (who speaks fluent Berber) was up there (at Marmusha) two other Jews who were traders to a neighboring tribe came by to purchase some goods from him. Some Berbers —from yet another neighboring tribe— tried to break into Cohen’s place, but he fired his rifle in the air. (Traditionally, Jews were not allowed to carry weapons; but at this period things were so unsettled many did so anyway.) This attracted the attention of the French and the marauders fled.
The next night, however, they came back, and one of them disguised as a woman who knocked on the door with some sort of a story. Cohen was suspicious and didn’t want to let “her” in, but the other Jews said: “oh, it’s all right, it’s only a woman.” So they opened the door and the whole lot came pouring in. They killed the two visiting Jews, but Cohen managed to barricade himself in an adjoining room. He heard the robbers planning to burn him alive in the shop after they removed his goods, and so he opened the door and —laying about him wildly with a club— managed to escape through a window.
He went up to the fort (then) to have his wounds dressed, and complained to the local commandant, one Captain Dumari, saying he wanted his ‘ar — i.e. four or five times the value of the merchandise stolen from him. The robbers were from a tribe which had not yet submitted to French authority and were in open rebellion against it, and he wanted authorization to go with his mezrag-holder, the Marmusha tribal sheikh, to collect the indemnity that, under traditional rules, he had coming to him. Captain Dumari couldn’t officially give him permission to do this —because of the French prohibition of the mezrag relationship— but he gave him verbal authorization saying, “If you get killed, it’s your problem.”
So the sheikh, the Jew, and a small company of armed Marmushans went off ten or fifteen kilometers up into the rehellious area, where there were of course no French, and, sneaking up, captured the thief-tribe’s shepherd and stole its herds. The other tribe soon came riding out on horses after them armed with rifles and ready to attack. But when they saw who the “sheep thieves” were, they thought better of it and said, “all right, we’ll talk.” They couldn’t really deny what had happened —that some of their men had robbed Cohen and killed the two visitors— and they weren’t prepared to start the serious feud with the Marmusha, a scuffle with the invading party would bring on. So the two groups talked, and talked, and talked, there on the plain amid the thousands of sheep, and decided finally on five-hundred-sheep damages. The two armed Berber groups then lined up on their horse at opposite ends of the plain with the sheep herded between them, and Cohen, in his black gown, pillbox hat, and flapping slippers, went out alone among the sheep, picking out, one by one and at his own good speed, the best ones for his payment.
So Cohen got his sheep and drove them back to Marmusha. The French, up in their fort, heard them coming from some distance (“Ba, ba, ba” said Cohen, happily, recalling the image) and said, “What the hell is that?” Cohen said “That is my ‘ar.” The French couldn’t believe he had actually done what he said he had done, and accused him of being a spy for the rebellious Berbers, put him in prison, and took his sheep. In the town, his family, not having heard from him in so long a time, thought he was dead. But after a while the French released him and he came back home, but without his sheep. He then went to the Colonel in the town, the Frenchman in charge of the whole region, to complain. But the Colonel said, “I can’t do anything about the matter. It’s not my problem.” an incident in Morrocco in 1912 as documented by Clifford Geertz in "Thick Description: Toward an Interpretive Theory of Culture" [1973], the 'thick description' being borrowed as a notion of British philosopher Gilbert Ryle (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gilbert_Ryle]
“The French [the informant said] had only just arrived. They set up twenty or so small forts between here, the town, and the Marmusha area up in the middle of the mountains, placing them on promontories so they could survey the countryside. But for all this they couldn’t guarantee safety, especially at night, so although the mezrag, trade-pact, system was supposed to be legally abolished it in fact continued as before.
One night, when Cohen (who speaks fluent Berber) was up there (at Marmusha) two other Jews who were traders to a neighboring tribe came by to purchase some goods from him. Some Berbers —from yet another neighboring tribe— tried to break into Cohen’s place, but he fired his rifle in the air. (Traditionally, Jews were not allowed to carry weapons; but at this period things were so unsettled many did so anyway.) This attracted the attention of the French and the marauders fled.
The next night, however, they came back, and one of them disguised as a woman who knocked on the door with some sort of a story. Cohen was suspicious and didn’t want to let “her” in, but the other Jews said: “oh, it’s all right, it’s only a woman.” So they opened the door and the whole lot came pouring in. They killed the two visiting Jews, but Cohen managed to barricade himself in an adjoining room. He heard the robbers planning to burn him alive in the shop after they removed his goods, and so he opened the door and —laying about him wildly with a club— managed to escape through a window.
He went up to the fort (then) to have his wounds dressed, and complained to the local commandant, one Captain Dumari, saying he wanted his ‘ar — i.e. four or five times the value of the merchandise stolen from him. The robbers were from a tribe which had not yet submitted to French authority and were in open rebellion against it, and he wanted authorization to go with his mezrag-holder, the Marmusha tribal sheikh, to collect the indemnity that, under traditional rules, he had coming to him. Captain Dumari couldn’t officially give him permission to do this —because of the French prohibition of the mezrag relationship— but he gave him verbal authorization saying, “If you get killed, it’s your problem.”
So the sheikh, the Jew, and a small company of armed Marmushans went off ten or fifteen kilometers up into the rehellious area, where there were of course no French, and, sneaking up, captured the thief-tribe’s shepherd and stole its herds. The other tribe soon came riding out on horses after them armed with rifles and ready to attack. But when they saw who the “sheep thieves” were, they thought better of it and said, “all right, we’ll talk.” They couldn’t really deny what had happened —that some of their men had robbed Cohen and killed the two visitors— and they weren’t prepared to start the serious feud with the Marmusha, a scuffle with the invading party would bring on. So the two groups talked, and talked, and talked, there on the plain amid the thousands of sheep, and decided finally on five-hundred-sheep damages. The two armed Berber groups then lined up on their horse at opposite ends of the plain with the sheep herded between them, and Cohen, in his black gown, pillbox hat, and flapping slippers, went out alone among the sheep, picking out, one by one and at his own good speed, the best ones for his payment.
So Cohen got his sheep and drove them back to Marmusha. The French, up in their fort, heard them coming from some distance (“Ba, ba, ba” said Cohen, happily, recalling the image) and said, “What the hell is that?” Cohen said “That is my ‘ar.” The French couldn’t believe he had actually done what he said he had done, and accused him of being a spy for the rebellious Berbers, put him in prison, and took his sheep. In the town, his family, not having heard from him in so long a time, thought he was dead. But after a while the French released him and he came back home, but without his sheep. He then went to the Colonel in the town, the Frenchman in charge of the whole region, to complain. But the Colonel said, “I can’t do anything about the matter. It’s not my problem.”
In this petition I am seeking approval by the Cort is for the issuance of a finding of taking and a certificate containing among other details the image of a sheep and the number 500 and a statement that private property in not to be taken for public use, without just compensation (in this case to Cohen in 1912) to be delivered to the L'Etats de Cézembre for further action.
Sincerely,
X. Pol Briga