The question comes in the middle of a procession. Almost whispered. It is February 1997 and Paris is demonstrating against an immigration law. A ten-year-old girl walks next to her father and at a certain point asks him: “Dad, what is racism?”. The father is Tahar Ben Jelloun, the little girl is his daughter Mérième. From that question, the following year, a booklet in the form of a dialogue was born: «Racism explained to my daughter» (La nave di Teseo).
Ben Jelloun, born in Fès, Morocco, in 1944 and in Paris since the early Seventies, writes in French and has since lived between the two shores of the Mediterranean, convinced that literature is a form of civil commitment. In 1987 he won the Goncourt with «Notte fatale» (The Ship of Theseus, trans. Egi Volterrani), the first African writer to receive it. In 2007, the Carical Foundation awarded him, in Cosenza, the first edition of the Award for Mediterranean Culture, together with Amos Oz, who throughout his life fought for two states and two peoples. An Arab and an Israeli writer. They have never met. That day they shake hands. Oz will die in 2018 and Ben Jelloun will continue to explain the world to younger people: after the Paris attacks he wrote «Terrorism explained to our children» (The Ship of Theseus, trans. Anna Maria Lorusso). Then comes October 7, 2023. Ben Jelloun condemns the Hamas massacre and the bombing of Gaza, and criticism rains down on him from both fronts. Two pamphlets were born from this. «The scream. Israel and Palestine. The need for dialogue in times of war” (La nave di Teseo, trans. Anna Maria Lorusso), written in the aftermath of the massacre, calls for dialogue instead of revenge. «The lost soul of Israel» (The Ship of Theseus, trans. Anna Maria Lorusso), released in the summer of 2025, uses the word genocide and separates criticism of Zionism from anti-Semitism. Twenty years after that handshake, the Prize wanted him as guest of honor for the twentieth edition. The founder and president of the Prize for Mediterranean Culture, Mario Bozzo, explained the choice with an ancient conviction: writers have always said things that the powerful of the Earth would do well to listen to. Ben Jelloun spoke live from Paris and spoke to the Rendano audience about the duty to educate young people about respect and tolerance.
He answers my questions in short, sharp sentences, without mincing words…
In 1998 «Racism explained to my daughter» was born from the questions of his daughter Mérième. With what words would you explain Gaza to a child today?
«How to explain Gaza to a child? The images are there, and the child understands that he is no longer safe. But we must accompany these images with explanations about the origins of these massacres. It is difficult and complex.”
In «The Lost Soul of Israel» you distinguish criticism of Zionism from anti-Semitism. Why does this distinction seem so urgent to you today?
«Zionism is an ideology that founded the State of Israel. It should be possible to criticize this state without being accused of anti-Semitism. Israel, however, has done everything to equate anti-Zionism with anti-Semitism. It’s blackmail. A state can be criticized, whatever its ideology. This has nothing to do with anti-Jewish racism.”
He grew up in Morocco and has lived in France for over fifty years. How far can a democracy go in welcoming traditions far from its principles?
«I’m just saying that in France we are experiencing a paradox: the country needs immigrants and, at the same time, all the right-wing and far-right politicians are calling for the closure of the borders. Some entrepreneurs make migrants without residence permits work illegally. It’s convenient for them and the government lets it happen.”
His books are translated into dozens of languages. Would you entrust your novel to translation software?
«I distrust the capabilities of artificial intelligence software, although I admire them. Translating is a creative act, not a simple translation of words.”
This year the jury awarded a Special Prize to «My free heart» by Majd al-Assar, a mother who cannot leave Gaza. What can literature do for those who write under the bombs?
«Literature is necessary in every era. While the bombs fall on Gaza and kill thousands of women and children, some poets have found the time to write and have left us desperate poems.”