1. Introduction
Today’s landscape theory is not limited to cultural geography; rather it functions as a nexus of issues with architecture, urban engineering, tourism, cultural preservation, and many other fields. Tuan [
1] and Relph [
2], who were among the first scholars to discuss the phenomenological meaning of
place in geographic research, deepened their consideration of the experience of space pioneering subsequent landscape theory. Their discussions on place have involved multiple disciplines, including religious studies. The consideration of religious experience is essential to the subject of cultural geography: in what ways people, given the human endowment, attach meaning to and organize space and place [
2] (p. 5). This is because, in traditional societies, the most important matters have been considered to be in the “religious” category. With religious sensibility, there are two main universal places in human experience: “this world,” where we live daily, and the “other world,” where souls after death and spiritual beings belong. Such understandings of the world often influence their social and personal lives. However, the subject of cultural geography has not been sufficiently discussed from the perspective of religious studies. Therefore, considering theories of religious studies, this paper can pose two questions on this subject. First, the dichotomies of the sacred and the profane, or “this world” and the “other world,” may be placed at the root of human experience as dynamism of inside and outside. Secondly, in traditional societies facing transformation, the dynamism may be experienced even in the context of modern events. Thus, this paper critically examines the ideas of place in cultural geography from the standpoint of the history of religion and contrasts experiences of two places: the village and the suburbs (i.e., the wilderness) represented in the festival of southern Tunisia.
Today, our lives are more or less caught between the traditional mode of behavior which is socially, historically, and culturally sustainable, and the modern mode of behavior which has completely different values from the former. In Tunisia, agricultural rituals and customs related to olive cultivation are currently on the decline due to rural development and the diffusion of fundamentalism, especially in the northern and central coastal areas. Meanwhile, in southern Tunisia, olive cultivation has been extremely limited in terms of quantity and productivity because of the environmental obstacles for extensive irrigation. The olive industry in the south has not grown beyond the level of subsistence, which has forced the region to rely on tourism and migrant labor as its main sources of cash income. Consequently, southern Tunisia (especially in the less-developed Amazigh villages) has continued to preserve its indigenous cultures based on traditional olive and stock-farming lifestyles while suffering from the need to transform its traditions due to modernization. In particular, tourism changes the meaning of the landscape around them. Sacred mountains and caves and practices once carried out according to precise symbolisms become touristic resources to attract foreigners and rich Tunisians. Outsiders can consume landscapes without involving themselves in the region’s unique and inherent meanings [
2] (p. 85). Does tourism reduce the meaning of places, even in the experience of the local people? For local people, acceptance and use of tourism is a threat to the decline of their traditional way of life [
3,
4], but it is also a compromised option to continue their traditional life [
5].
The Mahrajān festivals in Tunisia are generally government-created events that highlight the local traditions or specialties as tourism or industrial resource. Conversely, the new Mahrajān festival in an Amazigh village was spontaneously created by the residents. While the festival started as a touristic event, it is represented with prayers for a bountiful olive harvest and the prosperity of human fertility. A new festival created in the conflict between tourism and traditional behavior may reflect their traditional view of place while showing their flexible transformation to new situations. If so, it may be presumed that the ontological dynamism from the outside to the inside and vice versa is expressed in the core of the festival as in traditional agricultural rituals. Thus, based on the review of the literature and observation of the festival, the specific purpose of the present study is three fold: (1) to examine the structural contrast between the inner village and the outside suburbs; (2) to focus on the representation of the contrast of places in the festival; and (3) to discuss the inner and outer experience of the human existence that such contrast implies.
This paper examines the idea of the experience of place in cultural geography from the perspective of history of religion to reveal the continuity between the theory of passions on which the idea rests and the interpretation of religious experience. By interpreting the experience of place in history of religion using a specific example of a festival, it aims to show how religious experience shapes their lives, personalities, and their society. Thereby, it aims to fill the research gap between cultural geography and religious studies and provide a more existential understanding of the human experience of place.
2. Phenomenological Understanding of Place and Religious Experience
In
Place and Placelessness (2008/1976), Relph examined the notion of place, as a phenomenon of “the lived-world of our every day,” by identifying the diverse ways in which place is experienced and contrasting it with
placelessness, as the formation of an impersonal, standardized landscape. He also used phenomenology as his approach and considered “the various ways in which places manifest themselves in our experiences or consciousness of the lived-world, and with the distinctive and essential components of place and placelessness as they are expressed in landscape,” based on the recognition that “these proceed from an acceptance both of the wholeness and indivisibility of human experience, and of the fact that meaning defined by human intentions is central to all our existence” [
2] (pp. 6–7). In addition, he made significant contributions to the field of geography by providing a comprehensive overview of diverse regions and cultures, including Aboriginal Australians, Native Americans, the people of the Trobriand Islands, and those of South Wales, and by discussing the geographical perceptions of these societies as “experiences of place”. This methodology had not been systematically used in geography until then.
Conversely, there have been many criticisms regarding his definition and discussion of place and placelessness, with the main criticisms including its essentialistic attitude, its deviation from the reality of places today, and its simplistic dualism that narrows our understanding of the experience of place [
6]. From the standpoint of the history of religion, the problem with his theory lies in its insufficient phenomenological attitude, which is indirectly related to the above criticisms. For example, in Chapter 5, he defined the “sense of place and authentic place-making” and differentiated the terms “authenticity” and “inauthenticity,” based on social thinker John Ruskin’s concept of “true life” and “false life.” He also stated that true life “never forfeits its own authority as a judging principle,” while false life “is overlaid by the weight of things external to it” [
2] (p. 63).
Regardless of the validity of the arguments emanating from the modern view of human beings by Ruskin, the problem is that both Relph and Ruskin treat authenticity and inauthenticity as something as substantive as “life.” Such an attitude is quite different from the phenomenological approach, which focuses on the existential character of the phenomenon itself, after stopping to consider a thing as a substance and suspending judgment on the rightness or wrongness of its content (
epoché). Rather, it is what philosopher Edmund Husserl called “natural standpoint” [
7] (pp. 51–52). Moreover, if we take a phenomenological approach, then we must treat phenomena as something that “seems real” or “seems fake” to the target people and society and analyze the structures that give rise to these distinctions and consider the meanings of these experiences. In this way, a new dimension of meaning (i.e., a new interpretation) arises, which could not be known either from one’s own natural standpoint or from objective perception. Hence, the distinctions Relph used are based on his substantive “natural standpoint” by which Relph considered something that “seems real” to
him as “authenticity” and something that “seems fake” to
him as “inauthenticity.”
Another problem with Relph’s phenomenological understanding of place, from the standpoint of religious studies, is his modern view of human beings. For instance, Relph stated, “They are no less important for that, for it is these personal experiences of space that are the basis for much of the meaning that environments and landscapes have for us. Through particular encounters and experiences, perceptual space is richly differentiated into places, or centers of special personal significance” [
2] (p. 11). In other words, Relph’s understanding of the experience of place is caught in the limitations of the modern conception of human beings, either by setting it on a personal phase or by making the natural environment the “object” with which the individual confronts. It is well-known that many of the examples that he cited as “authentic” are experiences of place in primitive societies, where individuals do not exist as they do in modern societies. It has also been pointed out in anthropology that the “individual” in the traditional world is not an indivisible individual, but “dividual,” i.e., a divisible personality in which people are subjected to various materials and ontological influences from others (such as people, things, gods, lands). At the same time, people exude elements of themselves toward others through everyday interactions such as meals and conversations [
8,
9,
10].
Meanwhile, the experience of humanity, which is common to that of individuals, is important for considering phenomenological methods as well as the examples that Relph adopted. As the meaning of phenomenology lies in the question of how individual experience is related to what is important to humanity as a whole and how individual experience can become a universal meaning common to humanity, it would be difficult to achieve the goal of exploring the common experience of humanity if the sharing of the experience is taken as a secondary concern. In primitive societies, and even in traditional societies, the significance is on the meaning of the individual in the context of the world and the community, rather than the individual him/herself. In this way, the individual can acquire a religious significance because the representations in the religious realm show us explicitly that individual experiences can be given human meaning. For example, the daily act of eating bread can have a universal meaning when we receive it as a gift from God in heaven, the children of the Earth mother, or the body of God. Thus, in discussing the experience of place, it is essential to understand how it is religiously represented and experienced in a given culture.
It should be noted that the history of religion is not the study of what is generally regarded as “religion” such as doctrines or religious organizations, but it is an attempt to understand human beings and the world from the reality of religious experience. Through its process, the meaning of “religious attitude” and “religious experience” as human existence is clarified. Moreover, the things that have been most important to humans have been represented religiously. In this regard, components of the world such as air, sky, earth, food, water, trees, life have been created in an unknown place and time and brought into this world. However, they did not necessarily acquire the form of a “religion” in the narrow sense of the word. Meanwhile, religious attitudes have been observed in basic human activities, such as eating, sex, sleep, and language, as well as in songs, stories, pictures, rules, cures, acts of exchange, and a wide array of human activities surrounding death and birth.
In describing sacred space, Relph stated, “For the religious person, the experience of such space is primordial, equivalent perhaps to an experience of the founding of the world, and it follows that the making of sacred objects and sacred buildings is not a task to be undertaken lightly but involves a profound and total commitment” [
2] (p. 15), drawing on the ideas of Mircea Eliade, the historian of religion. Of course, “total commitment” refers to one’s involvement in sacred creation, which indicates the relationship between the sacred and the human. Eliade also named the manifestation of the sacred as “hierophany,” and claimed that it is the occasion for the renewal of the world. As the manifestation of the sacred creates a new world around it, hierophany always occurs in the center of the world. Although Relph did not elaborate on what the manifestation of the sacred actually is, it is quoted as “the manifestation of something of a wholly different order” [
11] (p. 11).
The sense of otherworldliness is a central element in the experience of the sacred, and it has often been presented in the vertical ontology of monotheistic religions, as in the sky or steeples of churches. In other religious forms, or even within monotheistic religions, the “other world” can be understood in different ways, such as the idea of Pure Land in Buddhism, Arcadia, Fortunate Isles, or the underground world that stretches from caves. While Relph eliminated it from his quotation, the essence of Eliade’s theory of hierophany is that the sacred appears in the mundane realm: “the manifestation of something of a wholly different order, a reality that does not belong to our world, in objects that are an integral part of our natural ‘profane’ world” [
11].
The sacred not only appears in places designated by society as “sanctuaries” but also in the secular realm. Compared to sacredness itself, the entire world seems “secular.” In this sense, the sacred always appears in the “secular” realm, and the manifestation of the sacred makes the world a “sacred” realm. In other words, as we cannot live without a certain orientation, we have given the name “sacred” to this orientation. Thus, to consider that orientation can be found in a place set as “sacred” is a perversion of this ontological order. Moreover, the sacred is not a segment or result of human activities. For instance, prayers and rituals are perceived as causing the manifestation of the sacred, but in fact, the opposite is true: we pray because it exists, and we perform rituals because it appears. The sacred appears as something essentially apart from human intent (i.e., something free from causality). In this regard, it is important to point out that there is a gap between the anthropocentrism in Relph’s perception discussed at the beginning of this section, i.e., the “meaning defined by human intentions is central to all our existence” [
2] (p. 7), and the experience of places that make him feel “authentic.”
Contrastingly, in
Space and Place: The Perspective of Experience (2018/1977), Tuan did not discuss individual experience, but essentially “our” experience (i.e., the experience of humans as complex beings). He focused on the question of “how the human person, who is animal, fantasist, and computer combined, experiences and understands the world,” and attempted to find “shared traits that transcend cultural particularities and may therefore reflect the general human condition” [
1] (p. 5). This attempt to grasp the human experience that underlies primitive, traditional, and modern societies can be said to have a perspective on human history that goes beyond the theory of modern humanism that focuses on individuality. Tuan also considered that “experience is directed to the external world. Seeing and thinking clearly reach out beyond the self” [
1] (p. 9). In other words, seeing, speaking, and thinking are clearly out of oneself, which is an understanding of humans that is equivalent to the “dividuality” proposed by Marriot [
8].
Furthermore, Tuan cited philosopher Paul Ricoeur’s reflections on emotions that “Feeling is…a very strange intentionality which on the one hand designates qualities felt on things, on persons, on the world, and on the other hand manifests and reveals the way in which the self is inwardly affected,” and concluded that “in feeling ‘an intention and an affection coincide in the same experience’” [
1] (p. 9). Ricoeur’s standpoint is based on his theory on passions. Although in the descent of philosopher René Descartes on “the passions,” Ricoeur did not leave the existence of the shock of emotion to the body, which exists exclusively in opposition to the mind. Instead, he argued that emotion “brings about a living passage from a nascent thought to a corporeal agitation,” and that emotions are triggered by a quick evaluation toward thoughts and perceptions that are implicitly present in us, but outside of our volitional control. In short, he stated, “emotion does not refer back to the reflex mechanism which functions between body and body, but to the mystery of the union of the soul and the body” [
12] (p. 269). This understanding of emotions by Ricoeur reveals the state that we are in when we experience something. In other words, when an emotion arises, it is exposed to external influences, and it occurs as a “shock” that does not involve volitional control but always involves non-explicit thoughts such as previously developed judgment criteria. It is also said to be a “circular phenomenon” in the sense that the emotions generated by such thoughts further influence one’s own thoughts. Hence, Tuan stated, “the given cannot be known in itself. What can be known is a reality that is a construct of experience, a creation of feeling and thought” [
1] (p. 9).
Tuan’s consistent discussion of the experience of place seems to primarily rest on Ricoeur’s interpretation, i.e., the union of the mind and body in emotions, and the creation and congruence of emotions and thoughts in the reality of experience. Such experiences, in the sense that they are far removed from volitional control, are closer to “numinous consciousness,” which Otto posited as a
sui generis element of religious experience [
13] (p. 7). Meanwhile, the coincidence of intention and affection in experience includes the same structure as the “principle of participation” [
14] (pp. 68–110), [
15] (pp. 84–110), where the object emerges in the self and the self in the object, or the “dividual” personality, which is the structure of the aforementioned manifestation of the sacred in the secular realm.
As for the sacred, it not only breaks down the old world but also the old shell of the self because it creates a new self and world that are connected to each other in a brand-new way. This correspondence between the self and the world in various religious traditions is based on this experience of self-world renewal [
11] (pp. 165–167). Tuan explored the human experience of place, and by focusing on the reality of such experience, we can point out that it includes the same structure as religious experience. For example, when we stop reducing experience to something other than existence, such as society, economics, politics, etc., what becomes clear is the fundamental character of experience itself, i.e., the sense that it is completely beyond our comprehension and is something that can be identified as the “wholly other” (
das “Ganz andere”), which is common to all religious experience [
13] (pp. 25–30). In this sense, any human experience can be religious experience, and religious experience is the archetype of all human experience.
Finally, Tuan explained the value of space as “the human being, by his mere presence, imposes a schema on space. Most of the time he is not aware of it” [
1] (pp. 36–37). This “schema” is the sense of orientation (i.e., the left and right as well as the center and periphery) that is so commonly experienced from infancy that we are unaware of it in our daily lives. However, “ritual occasions…lift life above the ordinary and so force him to an awareness of life’s values” [
1] (pp. 36–37). By experiencing a reality that surpasses everyday meaning in ritual occasions (i.e., by elevating life from its everyday value), the essential value of life can be revealed. It also means that the mundane, everyday world will regain its original meaning and the various values of life. For example, when palanquins lead a procession through the entire village at a festival, the overwhelming reality of the unusual, i.e., the colorful decorations, the noisy music, the continuous alternation of dances, and the various ritual procedures, takes the village street out of the context of everyday life and redefines it as “the path of the palanquins.” As the palanquins proceed, the street is transformed from its mundane meaning into a space based on “otherworldliness,” a place where divine things (in this case, the palanquins) pass through. It also reveals that space is a cosmos that manifests its center, which is the essential meaning of the place. In the following section, I consider what type of reality is acquired and what type of spatial representation is used to experience the place in a festival held in an Amazigh village (hereafter referred to as “Village T”) in southern Tunisia.
3. Methodology
This research was initiated as part of a study to understand the reality of agricultural rituals and saint veneration in Tunisia. In this study, fieldwork was conducted on 20–30 August 2014, 1–7 December 2014, 14–30 July 2015, 14–25 May 2016, 19–28 July 2016, 10–22 January 2017, 13–20 May 2017, and 2–14 August 2017 to observe and collect information on the Mahrajān and other customs in Village T and other villages. The interviews were conducted in English, Arabic, and Amazigh with translators on-site for native Arabic and Amazigh speakers. During the first two sessions, the author conducted preliminary research using a questionnaire on their knowledge about six categories: traditional songs, rituals, symbols, myths and legends, taboos, and folk medicine, especially related to olive cultivation. The survey sheets were distributed to local people in the governorates of Tunis, Sousse, Monastir, Gabes, Medenine, and Tozeur. Information collected from the survey responses in the mountainous areas of Gabes province shows that they preserve their traditional agricultural rituals and practices. The main fieldwork was then focused on Village T and the surrounding communities because it is an Amazigh-speaking village, and they did not accept mass resettlement in plain, which was a major project by the government to “improve their life conditions” [
16] (p. 273) in the 1960s. Both elements show their dedication to their traditions and to the land.
Based on participant observation in the balanced-stance between “observer” and “participant,” informal interviews were implemented along with the above six categories, and specifically on festivals. The author collected demographic information from interviewees, including age, gender, occupation, family members, marital state, and tribal affiliation. The number of interviewees except for the preliminary survey was 153: 21 in Village B, 42 in Village M, 20 in Village Z, 70 in Village T. For open question interviews in Village T, interviewees were selected from the people who had their lives mainly in the community, such as housewives or someone with his/her occupation inside the community. They were selected from both genders and also from both the Amazigh and Arab families. However, the method used in this study is not a sample survey, so it was not intended to include all age groups. Although the targeted main informants were the facilitator and committees of the festival who were males in their 50s to 60s, the most informative interviewees about traditional customs were women accordingly, who are more likely to stay inside the village than men.
In this research, the author employs a hermeneutical approach following the methodology of history of religion as creative hermeneutics on religious data [
17]. Interviews were recorded as audio data, and custom practices were recorded as video data. They were analyzed to identify repeated patterns of meanings and ways of thinking in order to achieve insight into participants’ experiences and worldviews. In the process of participant observation, the author attended Mahrajān in Village T in July 2015, Ehtifēl in Village T and that in Village Z in 2017, and pilgrimages to twenty sanctuaries in the suburbs, and conducted interviews about six other sanctuaries.
4. Amazigh Culture and Overview of Village T
Village T is known as one of the places where Amazigh language is still in use, while the number of Amazigh speakers is less than 1% of the population in Tunisia. Although their official religion is Sunni Islam, the customs of Village T are affected by the traditional Amazigh culture, whose traces can be dated back to prehistoric times. The existence of animistic beliefs found in rock paintings [
18] or belief in numerous “local gods and lesser spirits“ in the Phoenician colonial cities [
19] (p. 35) probably have relevance to the current Amazigh culture. Stillman [
18] stated that “nature worship” lasted to be the core of Amazigh religiosity into the modern era despite the official overlay of Islam. For instance, the ancient Amazighs frequently placed sacredness on rocks, mountains, caves, and springs, some of which still exist for their modern descendants.
Although they were impersonal forces, some of the spirits dwelling in these sanctuaries had names, like many of the
jinn of later Amazigh folk beliefs [
18]. Moreover, the tombs of Amazigh kings and ancestors were worshiped as sites of ancestral rituals that were closely linked to the wealth of the land. The rituals in which Amazighs predicted whether their wishes would come true by sleeping in their tombs have been practiced since ancient times [
20] (IV: 174), [
21] (pp. 46–48), [
22]. As several ethnographies have reported, prayers to the dead (ancestors) accompanied by dream divination have been practiced until recently among the Amazigh tribes across North Africa and the Sahara [
23] (p. 415), [
24] (p. 412), [
25] (pp. 61–63). This characteristic form of religiosity is thought to have continuity with the complex belief in
jinn, ancestors, trees, caves, and saints, which is still practiced today in Village T functioning as fertility rituals. The sensitivity to place found in this village seems to be linked to the characteristic religiosity and natural landscape.
Southern Tunisia covers the Djeffara, an alluvial plain facing the Mediterranean Sea and stretching from Gabes to Tripoli, the Dahar plateau extending westward into the desert, and the Demmer mountain range, the eastern edge of a plateau with abyssal ledges that form a type of cliff that stretches from north to south. The mountainous terrain also includes gorges and meandering dry valleys pummeled by the heavy rains in winter, creating a varied landscape. In the seventh century, when the Arab tribes invaded the region, some Amazigh groups fled the coastline and took refuge in the mountainous area of Matmata, while other groups simply surrendered to the Arabs and assimilated with them. It was not only the conflict between two different types of production but also confrontations between two ethnic groups with their different backgrounds and lifestyles. Although the tribes called “Arabs” include Arabized Amazighs [
26] and the actual distinction between the two would have become blurred, the conflicts between the Arabs and the Amazighs persist to this day. The elders in the neighboring village believe they are of “true Arab blood” and consider the “Berber” (Amazighs) as inferior [
16] (p. 45).
In contrast, the independent spirit of the Amazighs, threatened by the invasion of the surrounding Arab tribes, was very pronounced, and many of them formed settlements on mountainous cliffs and peaks that were not easily accessible to invaders. Nevertheless, due to the scarcity of arable and grazing land, they had to accept a certain degree of subordination and negotiation with the surrounding Arab tribes for survival. Even so, the Amazigh tribes, proud of their “Berber” identity, resisted Arabization, Islamization, and the French occupation forces with remarkable vigor. As a result, they have been characterized as people with a strong spirit for local, political, social, and cultural independence [
18].
Village T is located on top of a mountain at 480 m above sea level, 40 km south-southwest of Gabes. According to the village narrative, the tribe initially lived in the extreme southern region of Tunisia, near the Libyan border, and settled in another mountain in this area approximately 2500 years ago. Then, their move to the present location occurred roughly 1500 years ago. The center of the village was a fortified settlement. However, the village was dispersed in the surrounding mountainous areas as there were inadequate water resources or suitable land for cultivation and grazing to support the population. According to Louis [
27] (p. 37), there are two types of Amazigh settlements in the Demmer Mountains: (1) those that are concentrated and isolated, and; (2) those that are scattered under Arab patronage. In this regard, Village T includes both characteristics. Specifically, it is independent to maintain its autonomy from the surrounding forces while its economic base is supported by several sub-settlements that cultivate their land in the gorges of the hinterland.
Since its annual rainfall is 203 mm and the average annual temperature is 18.8 °C, it has a hot and semi-arid climate. In this dry and rocky land, the cultivation of fruit trees (mainly consisting of olives, figs, dates, and almonds) and the pasturage of goats have been practiced. As for its population, it is 913, according to the municipality’s statistical data on 2014. However, as this number includes other neighboring villages (see
Table 1), the population of Village T is probably half this figure (aside from temporary increases during the holidays). Moreover, as shown in this table, the village population appears to have decreased by an average of 36.6%, which is worse than that of Delegation M (23.3%).
The inner village is divided into eight sections (sg. zīah, pl. zihēd), with Alaa Sirbred, the highest hill in the center on which the main mosque was built, and five adjacent sections: Tazet, Minaji, Mzana, Lmhaia, and Ghiren. A series of narrow paths stretch between these sections. The highest areas are where the oldest Amazigh families reside, and the other Amazigh families have built their dwellings around them. The new sections of Tounin and Slom are located at its western and eastern ends, respectively, and are where the majority of the non-Amazigh (“Arab”) villagers have settled. Furthermore, the village is built in stages (from top to bottom), depending on when the clans were settled. Inside the village, there is an elementary school, a clinic, a post office, two grocery stores, three cafes, and two auberges for tourists. After the national highway had been constructed in 1992, tourists regularly visited the village to find the “real” life of an Amazigh village. However, since the Jasmine Revolution (2010–2011), very few tourists have visited or passed through the village due to the deterioration of public safety.
6. Festivals in Tunisia and the Festive Quality
In Tunisia, besides the Islamic and the Western calendar, the Julian solar calendar called ‘Ajami, has been used to serve as the agricultural calendar [
36] (p. 3), [
24] (pp. 541–542), [
37] (p. 159). The ‘Ajami calendar has been involved in specific festivals and agricultural events throughout Tunisia that differ from the universal Islamic celebrations. The implementation of agricultural rituals, including prayers for rain, represents the general concern for the fertility of the land. However, with the industrialization of agriculture and the diversification of modern life, agricultural festivals have been disappearing in various areas. Today, such rituals have been replaced by a new type of festival called the “Mahrajān,” which is a cultural event or local festival undertaken by the government to promote religion and tourism since the 1980s. However, this new festival in Village T represents the deep connection between olive cultivation, community preservation, and traditional folk beliefs that have been oppressed in the process of modernization [
37] (p. 350) and recent Islamic fundamentalism. Specifically, the village’s Mahrajān presents the multifaceted aspects of olive farming, olive oil processing, food culture, tourism, and symbolism, along with elements of the older local agricultural festivals.
Since the 1980s, the Tunisian government has been implementing policies to revitalize and utilize these festivals as cultural and tourism resources to counter Islamic fundamentalism and restore cultural diversity [
37] (pp. 9, 350), [
38] (pp. 99, 118). Widely seen in North Africa and Arab countries, the Mahrajān festivals are usually celebrated in Tunisia with parades, music, dance, and fantasia (i.e., horsemanship performances). These components can also be found in numerous festivals throughout the world, including monotheistic, pantheistic, and even atheistic cultures.
In general, festivals serve an important social function and are overarching self-expressions of society. They are also a ritual “consumption” of social wealth [
39] (pp. 45–61) and an opportunity to activate traditionally inherited symbolic meanings [
40] (p. 264). It is a chance to display the mythical meanings of communities that are usually hidden. In this regard, as the parades, music, palanquins, dances, riots, dramas, and games unfold, established ethics, and the normal values are overturned to a state of primordial chaos. This role reversal, the dramatized replay of myth, and the representation of a community, as a sacred cosmos, are made visible so that the meaning of human beings, the community, and the world (which cannot be reduced to usefulness) is experienced, i.e., the meaning of existence “itself.” For example, the maypole, widely seen in European festivals until the 19th century in which people cerebrated the coming of spring and the revitalization of animals and plants, symbolizes the center of the world and an archetype of living things. Similarly, in Japan, the parade of divine palanquins and personages (performed by children and youth) is an archetypal pattern that replays the creation myth. In this process, the city is sanctified by the circulating gods, and it becomes a “world” with a sacred meaning.
Due to the nature of the city with a growing community, urban festivals can be easily incorporated with tourism. Expanded festivals are no longer limited to the residents of small communities, as they are becoming more entertaining and consumptive than participative. These festivals always have performers and audiences and have characteristics that are indivisible from tourism and exhibitions. Thus, although it does not deny the significance of the festival itself, by holding the Mahrajān for visitors, it may hide its “festive quality.” Kerenyi [
41] (p. 53) defined this quality as being “a thing on its own, never to be confused with anything else. It can be confidently distinguished from all other feelings and is itself an absolute distinguishing mark.” This also indicates that the quality is not subordinate to any purpose other than the realization of the act itself, i.e., the festival is accomplished performatively.
Finally, tourism and cultural preservation can be the motivation for a festival, but they cannot be the goal for the participating people at the level of experience. In addition, the success of a festival can neither be measured by the number of tourists nor the income that the village receives; it can be measured through the realization of the festive quality. This quality should allow the participants to experience a transient world away from their secular daily lives. In other words, if this event is expressed entirely in terms of the number of tourists and the traditional culture that is displayed, then it has lost its festive quality. Therefore, the following section explores the traditional festivals of southern Tunisia and examines such quality reflected in their rich symbolic systems.
8. Mahrajān in Village T
8.1. Preparation for the Festival
The government of Gabes has been promoting and supporting a grand festival (
Mahrajān kbir) involving five Amazigh villages. However, the local Mahrajān held in Village T (without government support) is relatively small in size, budget, and the number of participants. In addition, although the Mahrajāns held by the governorate include traditional or regional features, such as ceremonial displays or processing of agricultural products, they are conducted without the local communities’ participation. Moreover, based on the government’s strong initiative and support for the implementation of the
Mahrajān kbir to promote tourism and attract audiences, the festivals have become “fun shows” (see
Figure 4), which has made it difficult to understand the true nature of the festival. According to Turner [
45] (pp. 131–165), festival participation is a total exchange that essentially involves roles and responsibilities for the operation of the cosmos and the community. The role of festivals is also different from that of ordinary life, and this sense of reality, this transition from the ordinary to the extraordinary, is the “the festive quality” [
41] (pp. 49–70).
In cultural events (e.g., music and film festivals) that are simply based on tourism and commercialism, participants are involved not in their roles and responsibilities but in their consumption and tastes, which are an extension of daily life. As a result, the festive quality of the events becomes unclear. On the contrary, the Mahrajān organized by Village T is relatively free from the bind of tourism, and it presents certain rituals and festive qualities as the core, instead of a series of “fun shows.” However, many villages and towns in Tunisia still face pressure when considering which of these two approaches to undertake, a new vessel of their tradition or mass entertainment with standardized values.
According to the facilitator of the Mahrajān in Village T, who is in charge of negotiations with the Ministry of Culture and Heritage Preservation in the governorate of Gabes, while the central government supports the Mahrajān kbir, the Mahrajān in small villages do not receive such budgetary support. In some cases, this has made it extremely difficult for the villages to hold the event each year, with some forgoing the event. In fact, Village T was the only village in the area to host the event in 2015, following a two-year gap.
Regarding other difficulties, the facilitator selected by the festival committee must spend considerable time consulting with the section officers and obtaining approval to hold a local festival on the scheduled date (July 26). The reason for such long negotiations between the government and the village is due to the uneasy history between the Amazighs and the Arabs represented by the central government. The villagers generally complain about government control, while the government officials tend to complain about the Amazigh villagers’ stubbornness and resistance. Needless to say, the village’s Mahrajān is accomplished through a delicate balance of power between the direction of the central government and the cultural independence of the Amazigh people.
For the Mahrajān in Village T, newly pressed olive oil made by a traditional stone mill, called ma’asla, is essential. However, as ma’asla is unavailable in the village during the season, the facilitator is required to find ma’asla from the neighboring Village J. Recently, olives harvested in the winter are immediately pressed, while in earlier days, they were kept in storage for several years. However, following the tradition of the Mahrajān, dried olives harvested in the current season are prepared. From the traditional viewpoint, the older olives are considered better, as they are considered to have spiritual value and power as well as medicinal qualities. Additionally, as the main focus of this festival is to give thanks to the harvest, it is particularly important that the olives are from the current season’s crop. Overall, approximately 30 kg of dried, black olives from the latest harvest is ground for half an hour and mixed with water to create a paste. This paste is then placed in a flat colander, called shwami, after which the oil is pressed. This process takes about a day, and it is crucial that it occurs before the festival, as the “mother of the groom” (on the morning of the Mahrajān) must bake 40 large loaves of bread (alwajib) and pour freshly pressed olive oil (oudhi) on them. The quantity of the loaves must be in multiples of 10.
Needless to say, the facilitator in this festival seems to have a broad range of tasks. The major activities include but are not limited to: preparing old olive fruits, arranging for a stone mill, finding animals to run the mill, hiring musicians, building the palanquin, finding camels to carry the palanquin (see
Figure 5), and selecting villagers to play the role of the Mahrajān’s “brides” and attendants.
8.2. Process of the Festival
When the festival begins around 6:00 p.m., people gather in front of the office of the agricultural non-governmental organization (NGO), which is considered the “groom’s house” (see
Figure 6). This office was chosen because many of the members of the festival committee, including the festival facilitator, belong to this NGO. This area also serves as the new center of the village, which includes the post office, the clinic, and the most popular café where the majority of the village’s men frequently gather, instead of the old squares in more geographically central areas such as the
braka in Mzana or the market in Ghiren.
At the gathering at the NGO office, a group of four “black” musicians from the village plays music with a drum (tabbāla) and an oboe (zurna). There, a small charcoal stove with incense is set up, and a palanquin (jaffa) on the back of a camel will eventually transport the “bride” of the festival from her home to the “groom’s house.” Red cloth, which completely covers the palanquin so that no one can see the “bride’s” face, is decorated with fish amulets (to protect against bad things), the national flag, and olive branches, which are considered “indispensable for this Mahrajān.”
Then, four or five young men, called ḥōlī, carrying double-barreled rifles and dressed in white woolen cloth also called ḥōlī, serve as “ministers” of the “sultan” and “sultana,” i.e., as representatives of both families in their “wedding ceremony.” The female members of the “groom’s family,” wearing the traditional melia, emerge from the house, and the procession begins. Meanwhile, the loaves of bread baked in the morning are placed in baskets and carried by two unmarried young women on the “bride’s” side as a gift from the groom’s family to the bride, exactly as it is done in a wedding procession. Young women are eager to play this role because it is considered to bring them good fortune and marriage in the near future.
On the way to the “bride’s house,” located on the edge of the village, the parade is led by the musicians, an empty palanquin, the male roles, and other villagers (men and children), while the female roles sing a traditional song and wish for a good harvest. After the non-stop, slow procession, they arrive in front of the “bride’s house,” and the women enter with loud zaghārīd. Inside the house, the bread prepared by the “groom’s” women is served, and a ritual communal meal is held while the men wait outside with the musicians and spectators. It is important to note that the “bride” is not allowed to touch the bread until her “mother-in-law” starts eating first. It is then eaten by all of the members of both families and her friends. In this situation, eating the bread also symbolizes good luck for the upcoming “marriage.”
With her face covered by thin red cloth, the “bride” is escorted by a “black” woman called tēbet hennāna (Henna’s agent). Her “black” color shuns evil spirits, while the status of the unmarried young women symbolizes their innocence and fragility in the presence of such spirits. Then, carrying his rifle (magroun), the “brother of the bride” in white hōlī, appears. The “bride” and the other women of the family are covered by his white cloth, after which they perform the ritual of confirmation with strong zaghārīd. When the confirmation is complete, the “brother” dons the hōlī again, goes outside, and points the gun at the “bride,” who plugs her fingers into the two barrels. As explained by the villagers, this act symbolizes the deflowering that takes place on the first night. If the bride has been previously married, then this act will not occur.
Once outside, they prepare the “bride” to sit in the palanquin, which is tightly covered and sewn by the camel handler. At that time, the “bride,” the tēbet hennāna, the other women, and the camel bearer are all covered with white cloth. From the “bride’s house,” many women from the “bride’s” side join the parade, and the tēbet ḥennāna carries a small brazier (kanoun) for the fumigation with incense (bkhor). Following the standing of the camel with the palanquin, the hōlīs and other men set off fireworks (instead of ceremonial gunfire) and perform a dance of the weapons, called meiyāza, to music at the “bride’s” house. In this dance, two men putting rifles on their shoulders or on the top of their heads facing each other circle around in small steps, reading each other’s movements and suddenly holding their guns up to compete for their nimbleness. The weapon dances are performed in five locations on the way to the “groom’s house.” Overall, the procession passes through seven sections in a circle surrounding the central Alaa Sirbred, the highest point in the village. It is important to note that four of the stopping points, including the “groom’s” house, are at the borders of these sections, while the other point at the “bride’s house” is on the boundary of the village. In this regard, the villagers explained that the route and the locations of the dances are selected to cover all of the sections in the area, thus highlighting the nature of this Mahrajān.
When the party arrives at the “groom’s house” at sunset, the camel handler cuts the thread on the cover of the palanquin and unfolds the
hōlī to hide the “bride” as she leaves the palanquin. Having prepared herself under the cloth, she reappears, surrounded by the sounds of
zaghārīd, and gestures with her finger to fill the gun of the “man of the bride’s family.” Then, the
tēbet hennāna carries a bag called the
koffa for the “bride,” which contains water, almonds, perfume, sweets, bread, and olive oil. Those are overlapping with the contents of a trousseau at a traditional wedding [
46] (p. 97).
Subsequently, the “bride” is greeted by the “groom’s mother,” who washes the right foot of her “daughter-in-law” before entering the gate. The rifle pointed at the “bride” is then handed over to the man on the “groom’s side,” who escorts her inside with the gesture. At this point, only the women and hōlī are allowed to enter the “groom’s house.” After her entrance to the room, the gate, formerly closed, is opened for the male members of the procession. Next, they perform a weapon dance in the yard of the house to the women’s zaghārīd and music, after which the dance transforms into conventional Tunisian folk dance found in a typical wedding party, and that includes all of the participants and visitors. After one hour of frenzied dancing, the music stops, and the Mahrajān ends.
10. Conclusions
This study critically examined Relph [
2] and Tuan’s [
1] ideas on the experience of place and explored the human experience of the sacred place. It turned out that the basis of this idea is an understanding of the coincidence of emotion and intention in the reality of experience, and that human experience is made up of circulation of inside and outside, such as orientation toward the external world and influence from the outside on the internal will. The examination revealed that such experience resembles, in the sense of being far removed from volitional control,
sui generis element of religious experience, i.e., the manifestation of the sacred. By interpreting the festival of the indigenous community according to these understandings, it was shown that the dichotomy of this world and the other world is experienced in modern events as a dynamism of inside and outside. More specifically, the three points of this investigation are summarized as follows.
First of all, the place they experience consisted of two opposing characteristics: (1) the interior of the village and the human realm and (2) the suburbs and the untamed nature outside. Environmental factors, such as agro-pastoralism suited to the climate and topography, and historical factors also influenced the experience of these two places. This contrast is represented in the two relations with “sacredness”: (1) to bring the life force from the outside, and (2) to leave the inside community to visit the sanctuaries in the suburbs. Secondly, the current tourism-oriented Mahrajān in Village T represents the traditional structure of agricultural rituals in which arbitrariness is periodically broken down by introducing externalities into the inner human realm. This contrast between the inside and outside of the human realm implies general opposing attitudes: an orientation toward the useful, an avoidance of what is beyond the control of human power, and an orientation toward the sacred beyond the control, thus not reduced to the useful. These two ambivalent ontological orientations are reconciled by the experience of the festival, which is the realization of the sacred (hierophany). Finally, as the sacred manifests itself in the village, the useful meanings attached to individual places dissolve, and the village becomes a sacred place. In the Mahrajān, olive cultivation in the suburbs and the village is newly sanctified and renewed by the dynamism of the inside and the outside. In other words, that is when people realize the source of the new harvest and that of new lives, and they experience the essential meaning of generation and production. In sum, although the Mahrajān is a modern festival aimed at tourists, it could be understood as having the universal structure of traditional festivals, in which places are sanctified by otherworldly beings brought from the outside.
This study brought a hermeneutical perspective of religious studies into the theory of experience of place of cultural geography, which provides new insights into the consideration of the human experience of space. It proposes a different perspective to the existing discussion of social and cultural sustainability in the crises of modernization and transformation to which indigenous cultures are exposed: the importance of “experience” of the people involved. However, because this study focused on the experience of place of the members of the community, it was not possible to discuss the experience of place of tourists coming from outside. In order to understand this research more comprehensively, it is necessary to consider how the experiences of insiders can affect those from outside and vice versa, which remains an issue for future research.