First of all before I begin my letter let me wish you “Good night!” if you are slumbering in your office in New York, or else “Good morning!” if you are still slumbering in your office in Rabat.
Other than that if you are awake and conscious let me just express my deepest remorse to you if I haven’t been able to write this personal letter sooner for I was extremely entrenched in a horrendous, heartrending, despair if not a mean overpowering depression of which your inexcusable and ghastly journalistic misfortune on CNN was the cause.
The impact of that unwise tragedy was so intense that even days after it took place I am still suffering a form of a hangover that started to seem determined to linger and expand without the slightest mercy.
Since I have watched your disappointing interview with Christiane Amanpour during which you demonstrated a great lack of aptitude for being a clear spokesperson regarding our national cause the Moroccan Western Sahara, and for being unable to clarify its entangling complex reality to the ordinary American viewer I still shudder and shake each time my conscience lets me down and dash to think over the course of that incident despite my desperate effort at objecting.
Oh dear sir! You just cannot imagine how furious and depressed I am! I am so depressed and furious that I am convinced if we Moroccans have decided to send an orangutan by consensus to be our spokesperson in that interview with Amanpour the creature would no doubt have elaborated on those simple questions, you have been asked, properly and avoided the shoddy entrapping that journalists are very well known for.
I tried to find an explanation to your mediocre performance in the interview as the journalist pounced on you and hurled one question after another at you whilst you just glared at her with your sardinic eyeballs and your forward slumped shoulders as though you were intoxicated.
It really seems so strange to me that though you are familiar with all the details of the Moroccan Western Sahara dossier on which you were grilled you just sadly chose to plunge yourself, perhaps unwillingly, into a fast deep sleeplike state and allow Christiane Amanpour to pound you fiercely as though she knows what she was talking about.
So the least thing one could do if he wants to make good sense of that situation is to have the supposition in his head that the interview with its gooey effect of entrapment was but a suspicious work of some reptilian that wants to see you trapped while getting weaker and weaker as time lapses. Otherwise one might think, judging how nervous you were, that you were not at all in front of a journalist but in front of a cruel grizzly bear in mid growl.
Dear diplomat, today, I seize the opportunity to undiplomatically let you know that your performance wasn’t only shocking but also awfully poor. And I do not think of any Moroccan citizen who is familiar with Shakespeare’s language who could have sat calmly watching the interview from the distance of his coach on his flat television without having experienced some serious dreadfulness of feeling because of your insolent attitude of submission to that hard-hitting interviewer. We, Moroccans, just felt deceived. We felt like we were riding a boat with a captain who has all the valuable knowledge it requires to steer the ship away from a looming annoying rock, and yet instead of avoiding the disaster he began laughing at its face instead.
Honestly speaking I started, along the line of other Moroccan-American writers on this board, to flirt with the idea of a complete overhaul concerning the machinery of Moroccan diplomacy. I began to think that it is time to recruit men of action, even brave voluntary naturally born diplomats, who have enough balls and guts to put the diplomatic ship on the right path and straightforward in its right position.
Because dear sir, even if one attempts the unpleasant notion of lying to one’s self and indulges in the presumption of trying to walk in your shoes he may find it hard to digest that the source of the problem has been so ridiculous as it took shape in the impressive array of white teeth that your interviewer possessed, a thing which simply explains that you were scared despite the fact that one has no reason to believe so. For despite the aggressive tone, which she uses for intimidating her interviewees, Christiane Amanpour is by no means a man-eater.
In fact one must admit that she has provided you with more than enough time required in order to expose the dirty laundry and the true nature of the Polisabal and their partners in crime, in terms of their maladive hostility towards Morocco. And as I mentioned above an orangutan could have done a better job at disrobing these wretched charlatans and exposed clearly the dirty tricks of these schemers in which they excel unparalleldly. We know that tarnishing the reputation of our mother country is their only objective and they have no sense of shame in doing that. However if an orangutan could find an easy explanation to the stratagems of these loons called Polisario we expect that an intelligent diplomat should be able to do an even better job at exposing this wanna-be archenemy.
Therefore sir, unless you get a good grip on your mistakes and make up for them in the near future I have but one thing to ask you: Forswear diplomacy all at once and take the back row. Isn’t it perhaps the convenient time for hiring a new generation of diplomatic staff on equal opportunity basis?