Les chevaux de Dieu

Based on the real multiple bombings that took place on May 16, 2003 in Casablanca, Morocco, the film follows its main characters over a period of 10 years, as they transition from boys to young men.

There's a lot that's powerful here, and there is much that has the ring of truth in this journey into darkness. But compared to (for example), Hany Abu-Assad's more complex and richer 'Paradise Now' there's also something a bit schematic. The reasons behind the transformation of these once sweet young men into bombers– poverty, hopelessness, an overly macho culture – are certainly true, but they're also familiar. It doesn't quite feel like we're digging deeper into their souls.

I also wish the villains of the piece, both Jihadist and 'civilian' were a little less on-the-nose, a little less mustache twirling. In terms of those men who are recruiting the boys, I missed the charisma that I assume must be part of the recruitment process.

Much like Ayouch's earlier 'Ali Zoaua: Price of the Streets', also about middle -eastern street kids, while the film is intelligent and interesting, it feels like it should be even more emotionally devastating than it ultimately is. That said, it's good enough that I could imagine re-visiting it, and seeing if it pulls me in even deeper on a second viewing.

On May 16, 2003, Morocco got "its" September 11. How naïve we were to think ourselves as untouchables, if anything the tragedy was a humbling lesson and Morocco's secret services could reinvent their methods in order to nip in the bud terrorist actions. Who needs to be as effective as the Mossad or Scotland Yard when any Moroccan can be a potential informant (an entire cell could be dismantled simply because the building's janitor found suspicious that one man living alone could buy so much bread at once). Anyway, the shock faded with time or switched to other cities such as Madrid in 2004 or London in 2005, what was left from the bombings were anecdotes such as "where were you when it happened?" "I thought it was fireworks".

Still, when I got a job and started enjoying Casablanca's nighttime, I often wondered what if it happened to me... I guess I'm lucky to never have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Nabil Ayouch's angle is interesting: adapting Mahi Binebine's "Stars of Sidi Moumen" novel, he exposes terrorists as those born in the wrong place at the wrong time. The place was Sidi Moumen, a Moroccan favela, the wrong time was the aftermath of September 11 that ignited a fire of anger in souls who kept their frustration for too long, and resentment is an excellent combustible.

His movie ends right before the explosion, because whatever happens after was a human tragedy written by statistics, Ayouch is digging deeper, within the psyche of a disillusioned unemployed kid, willing to kill and die. How he doesn't see his victims as innocent is the greatest trick extremism can operate on weak souls, but are their weakness to blame? Ayouch is interested in the human side of outcasts, humanity as vulnerability. In a way, terrorists are the first victims of terrorism. Ayouch doesn't side with them but in "Horses of God" he depicts a sort of life that was so hellish that only the existence of an afterlife for the 'righteous' ones could make it tolerable. People's opium.

The film opens with "City of God" (or Allah) vibes. Boys play football, Tarek aka Yachine is the goalkeeper. They could be my age, I was 12 in 1994. The colors are yellowish and bright, it's childhood, life... but what do they do for a living? Taking stuff from a dump (one of the biggest in the area) and then resell it. When Tarek and Nabil are teased by two kids for their closeness, Tarek's brother Habib come with an improvised chain-like weapon and bomb them with insults that would make an adult weep. Habib is the most resourceful and natural leader, his mother treats him like the man of the house. Indeed with one brother who's stuck to the same corner with an old transistor and a mentally challenged father, we gather that neither Habib or Tarek grew up with models to look up to.

In this time and place, if you didn't become a football player or got yourself on the other side of the Mediterranean sea, your only options were selling fruit or vegetables, being a mechanic or forgetting lost dreams through a certain Moroccan 'plant' to blend with tobacco. Tarek lacked prospects and his brother's magnetism but somehow manages to grow up as a reasonable (albeit irritable) man played by Abdelhakim Rachid, he's Nabil's best friend and is in love with one of the girls from the neighborhood.

Speaking of Nabil (Hamza Souidek), his family background consists of a mother who dances at weddings, which in Moroccan perception equals a prostitute. But never sugarcoating his material, in quite a gut-wrenching scene we see Nabil being abused by Habib... during the childhood part. I was perplex about that scene but I guess Ayouch wanted to show a certain reality about religious people: they have a shady past, some traumas or guilt-inducing factors to make up to. Many praying and dutiful Muslims I knew lead the kind of youths that make mine feel like priesthood.

Ultimately, Habib (Abdelilah Rachid) becomes a delinquent and ends up in jail after a police incident. Both Tarek and Nabil work as mechanic assistants and do quite well. In one of the film's most lighthearted scenes the two drive one of these popular Moroccan motorbikes to get to Rizlene. It's like the two friends riding their white horse in De Sica's "Shoeshine". But Tarek can't talk to her, she's chaperoned by her brother Fouad (Ahmed el-Idrissi Amrani) who'll eventually be part of the terrorist group. Things escalate at Habib's return. He's bearded, talks like a sect guru and the mother is so admirative of him she doesn't even notice the change. Tarek does and doesn't like it. But one incident gives the religious group the opportunity to 'get' them..

From his "Ali Zaoua" to "Much Loved", 'group power' has been a source of inspiration for Ayouch. Maybe that is the real clash of civilization, more than obscurantism vs modernity, it's about the group versus the individual: society encourages us to speak our voices, which Tarek does all along, until he just finds the so awaited inner peace in masculine bonding and collective prayers. But in an ironic twist, as the day of the attack approaches, it's Habib who got cold feet. It was interesting to have that particular insight, we tend to look at these criminals like brainwashed zombies, but how many wanted to leave but couldn't. As for Tarek, even the memory of Rizlene was swept off by the prospects of having plenty of them in the afterlife. Groups again.

"Horses of God" traces the uncompromising road toward that fateful night where kids playing football in Sidi Moumen "saw fireworks" in Casa. At that point, innocent people were dead... as for the terrorists, somehow they were dead already, their fates echoing that line from Alan Parker's "Mississippi Burning" I paraphrased in the title.

On May 16, it was Casablanca burning.

It shows how easy it is for anyone to be brainwashed If he lives in certain circumstances. I think almost everyone could fall into the same trap if they were in their place with that difficult life. so who should be blamed? them? Or society? Or religion? All religions are myths and i think religion keeps destroying humanity. this movie is very good

The terrorist bombings in the Moroccan city of Casablanca didn't get as much attention as those in New York, London or Madrid. The five attacks were aimed at western and Jewish targets, killed 45 people, and were carried out by Moroccans, all of them young men from Sidi Moumen, a nearby slum. The attacks came as a shock, because for an Arab country, Morocco is considered rather moderate and open-minded. So why did these young terrorists carry out such gruesome attacks in their own city?

The film 'Le chevaux de Dieu' (God's Horses) tries to answer that question, and does it in an impressive way. For the most part, the film shows the daily life of young men in the slums. It is a cruel environment, an urban jungle full of violence, drugs, alcohol, corruption and extortion. And above all: without any hope. It is this desperate life that provides the fertile ground for frustration and rebellion.

The film shows clearly that the young men at no point deliberately choose for Muslim fundamentalism. One of them is arrested for throwing a stone to a police car and returns from prison as a faithful Muslim. Another kills his boss to prevent a rape, and is told by the religious community that God forgives him, provided that he starts praying and believing in Allah.

For the young slum dwellers, faith and religion is a tempting way of life. It preaches forgiveness, whereas the slum is full of violence. It is clear and deliberate, not chaotic like slum life. Its most important feature is discipline, which is in stark contrast with the loose morals in the slum dwellings.

The young men are fascinated by the Muslim organization. Slowly their lives are getting controlled by it. When the leader tells them they are selected for a special assignment, they feel honoured. Even when it becomes clear what this assignment is, most of them don't hesitate for a second.

The film doesn't approve of Muslim fundamentalism in any way. It merely shows the mechanics of it. That's why it is such a good movie. Watching the young men being absorbed by their religion, you almost pity them. But most of all, you understand why they do what they do. That's more than most other post-9/11 films have accomplished.

Moreover, the acting is incredibly subtle, and the cinematography is so effective that, at the end of the film you think you know the Sidi Moumen neighbourhood really well. When you go watch the movie, pay attention to the last shot; it is a beauty. In an amazing traveling shot, the camera circles around a group of kids playing football in the slums and watching the fatal explosion in the distance. Then, without cutting, the camera pans towards a cliff, we see the ball falling down and disappearing in the darkness. 'Le chevaux de Dieu' is a gem, and it would be a pity if it stays unnoticed by western audiences.

I finally found a version of this film that was not dubbed into French! Over the years I have downloaded, rented and started watching it but gave up as the language was not the original Darija.

I watched the film with a sense of mounting horror and despair. There was not a moment of fat in this feature that told the story of various youths and their families' lives in the sprawling slum of Sidi Moumen. The shantytown had been allowed to exist and enlarge during "Les Années de Plomb" (the years of lead) under the careless watch of King Hassan ll. There is no way out apart from crime, prostitution or marriage to a rich person if one is good looking.

We see the lives of the protagonists from childhood through to the atrocities and how they are twisted and formed by the utter hopelessness of their situation. The local Mafias act on behalf of the cops until the latter decide an arrest is needed, then someone is casually thrown in jail. One of these is Hamid, rough elder brother of Tarek who is ensnared by radical Islam in the klink. Unfolding events trap others too, including Tarek and his friends.

There is a theme throughout the film of hidden homosexuality. Nabil is raped as a preteen and is Tarek's lover later when they are teens despite the latter being in love with Ghislaine, a local beauty. The repair shop's boss tries it on with Nabil too and this is the beginning of the lads' descent into fundamentalism. It's quite subtly done in the film. This is Morocco after all and such things are not spoken about.

The radicalisers are grotesquely true to life in their way of caging and channeling their victims into believing that martyrdom while killing apostates and non-Muslims is acceptable, nay desirable. Of course, they would never go on a mission themselves.

The part that made me weep was when the lads were taken on a solidarity holiday to the mountains just before their mission. These young men were not evil, they were kids who had been deluded and deceived, splashing in mountain streams that they had never had the opportunity to see before and playing football. They had been seduced to terrible effect.

And now I have to declare my interest. I live in Morocco although not in Casablanca. The new tramway extends all the way to Sidi Moumen giving new opportunities to the remaining slums. Morocco has clamped down on jihadists using a network of spies and informers. However, I was by chance in Casablanca the night of the attacks, staying in a hotel 200 yards away from the Safir which was partially blown up. Like an idiot, having heard the explosion from my hotel, I went out to see what had happened. I got about 40 yards down the street before I was lifted off my feet by two burly cops and dragged back to my hotel and slapped hard once they had got me into reception.

I was bewildered ever since and have never truly understood the attraction of being radicalised, either these guys or other terrorists elsewhere. This masterpiece of a film goes a long way to explaining the process to me.