Life & Wisdom Quote by Tahar Ben Jelloun

Ben Jelloun’s line is a refusal to accept the moral bookkeeping that still haunts postcolonial culture: the demand that language choice must either confess guilt or perform purity. He writes in French, the tongue historically welded to domination in North Africa, and he declines the two scripts offered to him. No apology, but also no triumphalist claim that French is “just a tool.” The sentence is engineered to reject a trap.

The phrasing matters. “I don’t feel guilty” pushes back against the expectation that an Arab/Maghrebi writer in French must preface every page with a political disclaimer, as if aesthetic life requires a visa. Then comes the sharper clause: “nor do I feel that I am continuing the work of the colonizers.” That “continuing” is the accusation he anticipates from nationalists and cultural gatekeepers: that French automatically reproduces colonial hierarchies, that literature in the colonizer’s language is collaboration by another name.

The subtext is about ownership and agency. Ben Jelloun is claiming French as a contested space rather than a contaminated one, insisting that the language can be rerouted to carry memory, critique, eroticism, and grief that colonial power never intended to sponsor. Historically, this sits inside Morocco’s bilingual reality, where French remains prestigious, institutional, and economically useful, while Arabic (and Amazigh) carry different kinds of legitimacy and belonging. His intent isn’t to absolve French of its past; it’s to deny that the past gets to dictate the terms of his voice.