CHRONICLE From: RABEH SEBAA
“It is always a deep ignorance that founds the most tenacious certainties” (Ibn Sina)
It is thus that all the beatified preachers and all the gratified healers begin to bulge out the torso of ignorance, ostensibly showing off the curved biceps of ignorance, trumpeting loudly the implacable virtues of insignificance.
Urevolting practice. It’s been present for too long, and it’s becoming more and more burdensome. More and more frequent, even more pervasive, since this damn pandemic has become hopelessly persistent. Pushing the most vulnerable to take refuge there, to snuggle up there.
Like under the outstretched wings of a swan in its ultimate song. As a final recourse to the ritual invoking the dark twists and turns of the unknown, the occult, the trouble and the unresolved. A supposedly therapeutic rite, fraudulently replacing medicine and profusely pulverizing the advances of science, a ritual that is firmly anchored in the friable base of the societal mental level.
With vaguely anti-diabolic utterances of onomatopoeia, an outrageously deadly ceremony on which we have always chosen to close our eyes, or pretend to look elsewhere, for fear of its supposed proximity to who knows what nebulous sacredness.
A sacredness with contours as vague as they are indefinite, but a sacredness based on fear, on the fundamental role of founding violence, as René Girard would say. And it is this supposed proximity to this type of sacredness that perpetuates a ceremony claiming to guarantee the cure of all ills. Just by the whispering of some anti-satanic formulas. Doubtful and inaudible expressions to summon the demon to change dare-dare of cabin, or to go into exile illico presto to find another devilish shell, in a distant land. Out of the trembling body he inhabits, just by declaiming anti-Luciferian litanies at the top of his voice. To chase him away from the disproportionately cadaverous bodies. Emaciated bodies, delivered to the mercy of villainous dealers in stanzas of the demon and diabolical stanzas. And which haunt the universe of the poor and destitute. Disguised as merchants of exorcical serenades. Pushing the presumptuousness of being paid on the distress of all desperate souls. All those vulnerable creatures who succumb to the misfortunes of life and who become the favored prey of those wily bastards.
Fraudsters without faith and without the slightest apprehension of the law, officiating with impunity, for several years already, through all the cities of the country. Affecting all social categories and all ages. Revere in full view of all, with complete impunity, despite several recorded deaths, despite several rapes during these dismal sessions and the multiple acts of pedophilia or irreversible trauma caused to martyred children. Despite the indelible scars left by these infernal sessions and despite the lip service banning this dirty business of grinding and mutilating sounds, for which no training, no diploma, no authorization is required. All you have to do is pretend to chant anything, before starting to vociferate exaggeratedly, kneading the agitated body copiously, often seized with spasms that have absolutely nothing to do with its sessions of mystification and falsification. Sessions where it is more the theatrical side that is put forward, dialogues with devils and demons by calling them by their first names.
By reminding them of previous encounters and fights, displaying intimate relationships, in their language with demons. While letting believe that all this comes from religion and ancestral practices inscribed in the convulsive body of society and the Algerian mentality. And it is in full societal disarray that we strive to put them back on a pedestal, in the name of religion. Since primacy was given to it over science and reason, since it was decided to give it priority in matters of knowledge. Transforming all its so-called carriers into scholars instead of scholars, consecrating them as official holders of the prerogatives of science, setting them up institutionally as holders of knowledge. Officially transforming them into mechanical distributors of sentences and certified representatives of consciences. Thus opening the disastrous procession of duels, sermon against science, preaching against knowledge, preaching against erudition, and this is how all the knighted preachers outwit the shunned scientists. They know they are suddenly made more important, more decisive, more visionary, more sagacious, more discerning, and irrevocably more intelligent. By the grace of her most serene lady, official incompetence, perched overnight on the sticky throne of her twin sister, inconsistency.
It is thus that all the beatified preachers and all the gratified healers begin to bulge out the torso of ignorance, ostensibly showing off the curved biceps of ignorance, trumpeting loudly the implacable virtues of insignificance. Taking a liking to exhibitionism, all these charlatans no longer want to stop on such a good path, since they have been told that only one of their sentences takes precedence over all the recommendations of science, so they put zeal into book, beginning by calling for the immediate reopening of all preachers, while insisting that this privilege is reserved for men only. Women’s priors, like many other things concerning women, do not appear in the calendar of the new beginning because they must be kept safe from the demons of the prayerful libido, always on the lookout. And then, once the cohorts of pious and psalmodious have rediscovered the benefits of confinement, they must no longer leave it.
This is where all the macho vision of the Algerian woman of these licensed preachers nestles, summarizing their entire representation of this symbol of the fight which embodies the resilience of Algerian society. Totally ignoring the hymn of the great Sufi master Ibn ‘Arabi who was convinced that in femininity, there is a part of divinity. A magnified femininity, a glorified femininity, a deified femininity. A conception of femininity inaccessible to the crass ignorance of these tellers of incongruity, these declaimers of onomatopoeia who have never come across the slightest text by Ibn ‘Arabi or Ibn Rochd.
Hasty reciters ignorant of everything about Sheikh Al Akbar who taught the meaning of transcendence throughout his life, or Ibn Rochd who left his there, lynched by other preachers and other sermonizers, other preachers and other healers. Just for having dared to organize a scholarly meeting between faith and reason, between science and religion, wishing with all his might to see a marriage between rationality and religiosity. A marriage that never took place, but centuries later, the second fiercely closes her eyes to the first, in the name of who knows what return of sacredness. Woven on the scattered shreds of an ignominious duplicity, which brandishes the banner of the institutionalization of distress.
Pushing cynicism to the point of distributing The Sacred Book to nursing staff lacking everything, inviting them to barter their medical knowledge for chants and oral gesticulations, after having outrageously dispossessed them of their ability to manage vital prospects. A duplicity carried by performers wearing the uniform of celestial representatives, but officiating as civil servants applying basely earthly instructions. Sinking society even further into its somnambulistic torpor, and into the inextricable tangle of the pangs of its atavistic inconsistency, in the name, precisely, of who knows what spiritual heritage and what cultural heritage, or even what traditional landmarks because, spiritualities and culturalities have always gone hand in hand with science and knowledge in advancing societies because, when spiritualities, sciences and culturalities intertwine with fervor, the luminous spirit shines on life vigorously.
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SOCIOLOGICAL ARCATURES: Mephistophelic divination, this therapeutic lure
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