In Morocco, the word kasbah, which applies to the old historical center of a city, comes from the term ksab which refers to a plant known in France as cane from Provence… Formerly used in Marseille as well as in Tangier, to build houses, this plant is no longer worked today except in Morocco. A cross-examination of its use, which accompanies the history of Men.
Evening falls on the Tanja Balia neighborhood, located a few kilometers from the center of Tangier, a Moroccan city at the crossroads of the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. On the side of a small road leading to the elevated neighborhoods overlooking the Strait of Gibraltar, a few huts made of cane house lampshades, chairs, baskets, and tables of various shapes and sizes. Salmane, 18 years old and wearing his cap backward, welcomes us at the entrance of one of them. It was his grandfather, Mohamed, who first started working with cane in Tangier in the 1970s. His workshop, then closer to the city center, moved away in the 2000s, during the construction of the new train station. This new location in Tanja Balia is also temporary. “The state doesn’t like the image that the profession may convey, that of reed huts too close to the tourist center. It could therefore decide to push us even further away,” explains Salmane, who works with cane alongside his father and uncles.
A plant that follows men
The craft of basket weaving, however, has existed for decades. “Cane from Provence has a somewhat particular ecology,” explains Dalida Ladjal, a member of the SAFI collective of foragers. “Its flowers are sterile, and it reproduces almost exclusively by the dissemination of a piece of rhizome. It is therefore a plant that has followed men in their settlement. By taking a bit of cane with them, they allowed its diffusion.” Originating from Marseille, this group of artist-botanists-walkers has made their way to Tangier to talk about this particular species whose cradle is located in Morocco. “Cane is a fundamental plant in Mediterranean cultures,” continues Dalida. “We make everything with it: screens for shade, calamus for writing, but also houses since the name kasbah comes from this plant.” In Tangier, it is also found in umbrellas and fences around fields and houses… Weavers collect it from the land of owners for a fee, then bring it back to the workshop to work with specific tools. Its low genetic variation allows artisans to work with the same plant almost everywhere around the Mediterranean basin.
However, the use is not the same on both shores. “Here, we see that the canes are regularly cut and that there is no problem with the aging of the canes,” explains Dalida. “Whereas in Marseille, where we have completely lost the art of pruning this plant, it proliferates, ages, dries, falls into rivers, and creates blockages.” The municipality, therefore, deploys immense resources — large machines to dredge the riparian vegetation, stone crushers, and then tarps — to clear the riverbanks, costing nearly 300 euros per square meter. “A superfluous expense, which would completely disappear with a bit of exploitation of the cane,” concludes Dalida, who calls for the revaluation of the work of this plant and its protection where it still exists.
A declining profession?
In northern Morocco, between foragers, transporters, and artisans, there is a whole ecosystem that lives around the harvesting of cane. According to Salmane, whose family lives off basket weaving, the cost of transportation has been increasing in recent years. In summer, plastic in the form of long straws also arrives from Casablanca, highly demanded due to its low cost, to the detriment of cane. Salmane's family is also concerned about being pushed a bit further away by the state, having to move away from cane harvesting sites as well as clients. And then, as Dalida reminds us, “if the weavers disappear, the entire river ecosystem will end up costing an incredible amount of money [to the city].” Salmane himself is now following in the footsteps of his elders and is considering opening his own workshop. But he does not rule out, if working conditions become too difficult, turning to another profession later.
Cover Photo: The work of cane from Provence in Tanja Balia, a neighborhood of Tangier (ksab in Moroccan Arabic) © Adèle Arusi