Marruecos en Coquimbo: Notes on the Mohammed VI Center for the Dialogue of Civilizations

In December 2004, Mohammed VI visited Santiago de Chile. I remember this as an episode of my early childhood, as my parents bore the responsibility of receiving him while liaising with local authorities. At the time, the continent’s governance had shifted from its markedly neoliberal orientation in the 80s to what media commentators were calling a ‘pink tide’ of democratic leadership. In this political climate, a few short years after 9/11 had severely impacted media representations of Muslims worldwide, Mohammed VI had embarked on a Latin American tour, meeting several heads of state across the continent, and stopping by Chile where my father was his Ambassador. Also stopping in Mexico, Brazil, Argentina, Peru, and the Dominican Republic, it was Mohammed VI’s first and only official visit to Latin America to date.

The visit to Chile stood out from the rest of the King’s 2004 Latin American tour. Besides signing more traditional cooperation accords at the Palace of La Moneda in Santiago, he was slated to preside over the signing of agreements related to the construction of the Mohammed VI Center for the Dialogue of Civilizations in Coquimbo, also known as the Mezquita de Coquimbo, or the Mosque of Coquimbo for its architecture. The center is an exact replica of the Koutoubia of Marrakech in the port-city of Coquimbo a few hundred miles north of Santiago. Though the center looms large, towering over the surrounding pastel hued houses of the Cerro dominante, one of the most elevated areas of the town, not much is known about the center’s origins, the vision behind it, and the actors who brought it to life. The only Moroccan cultural center on the continent, its construction was not a carefully planned strategic initiative, but rather originated in a casual conversation in Coquimbo in 2002.

Given that little to no historical record exists of its origins in the context of Moroccan-Latin American cultural and political histories, I have taken up the task of illuminating part of the center’s story, specifically that which belongs to my father, Abdelhadi Boucetta, Ambassador to Chile from 2002 to 2008, who, in concert with the Mayor of Coquimbo at the time, Pedro Velásquez, initiated this project and accompanied it to completion. This piece therefore roughly outlines some key moments that contributed to the construction of the Mohammed VI Center for the Dialogue of Civilizations in Coquimbo, Chile.

As any narrative reconstructed from memory, it is incomplete and confined to the perspective of its source. More than an exhaustive history, it may be better understood as a situated recollection among many. One that may one day contribute to historiographically rigorous research on the cultural and diplomatic ties between Chile and Morocco.

II.

Coquimbo is roughly a five hour drive north of Santiago. For the most part, it occupies a small and hilly peninsula that extends out of the interminable verticality of the Chilean coast. From a bird's eye view on the urbanized side of Coquimbo’s peninsula, developed from the copper and mineral mines that brought industry to the region in the 19th century, one’s gaze might alight upon the dense concentration of yellow and red metal corrugated roofing panels. On the eastern side of the peninsula, the rugged terrains filled with rocky crags and outcrops remain untouched by developments, instead ornamented with desert shrubs and scenic overlooks. Standing atop a hill in the middle of the peninsula, the most notorious feature of Coquimbo’s urban and cultural landscape, is the massive 83-meter-tall concrete Christian cross: the Cruz del Tercer Milenio.

Built between 1999 to 2000, this cross resounds with the memory of Pope John Paul II visit to Coquimbo in 1987, an event that Coquimbo’s majority Christian residents proudly celebrate to this day. Like the country it belongs to, Coquimbo has for long been a bastion of Christian liberalism. It was this political-religious faction that led the restoration of democracy after the twenty-year dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet.

Around the early post-dictatorship days, came of age the most notorious Mayor in Coquimbo’s history, a man by the name of Pedro Velásquez, who describes himself as a pure product of the transitional Christian liberal political culture in Chile. Velásquez was elected Mayor of Coquimbo in 1992 marking the beginning of a twenty-year tenure as the mayor, during which he consolidated tremendous influence in the region and became a player in Chilean regional politics. Among the culminating moments of his tenure, which was thoroughly characterized by the ambition of bringing new shine and recognition to the city, was the prestige project of the Cruz del Tercer Milenio, which would become, after its completion, the largest Christian cross in Latin America, and third largest Christian cross in the world.

Velásquez relates that after traveling to China, and witnessing the Oriental Pearl of Shanghai–perhaps the most recognizable building in the city’s skyline–he was inspired to build a similar symbol for Coquimbo, something equally grandiose that would make the city stand out. Velasquez wanted to bring iconicity to Coquimbo, and he figured that a cross—a symbol behind which all the manifold Christian denominations could unite—was the perfect justification to reproduce such monumentality for his city. The cross was completed on the great jubilee of the year 2000, fulfilling the mayor’s every wish of making Coquimbo far more recognizable than it had ever been—in Chile, and abroad.

III.

In December 2002, under the mild austral summer of central Chile, Abdelhadi Boucetta first visited Coquimbo as part of the courtesy visits he led across different regions and municipalities in the country. As diplomatic manners have it, acquainting oneself with communities across the host country through these visits is a way of forming alliances, envisioning strategic regional partnerships, and bringing awareness of the country one represents. He met with Pedro Velásquez, who quickly took him on a tour of the Cruz del Tercer Milenio.

Velásquez had visited Morocco a few years earlier, and was impressed by the architecture of Moroccan mosques—particularly the minarets, which he understood as a symbol of the unity of God, and of the bond between sky and earth. It might be that the monumentality of the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca had made an impression on him. While talking with Boucetta, in front of the cross in his native city, Velásquez imagined the possibility of building a symbol of Islam right beside the cross. On that concrete esplanade flashed before him the ambition to make Coquimbo a center for religious convergence. He imagined one symbol for each religion, as a way of investing Coquimbo’s urban architecture and social fabric with mutuality and harmony.

Abdelhadi Boucetta was immediately captivated by this casual proposal. They continued to discuss it at dinner that night. For Boucetta, who had just been named Morocco’s Ambassador to Chile, this project aligned with Mohammed VI’s vision of restoring Abrahamic siblinghood. This project could also be an opportunity to conduct religious diplomacy, furthering links of cooperation not only alongside economic partnerships, or geostrategic communities of interest, but leveraging the narrative potential of religious symbolism. Velásquez’s ambitions for Coquimbo seamlessly conjoined with one of the principal sources of political legitimation of the Moroccan Monarchy as religious authority.

More than any pre-planned project for a Cultural Center in Latin America by the Moroccan government, what was at the root of the Coquimbo Mosque, was Mayor Velásquez’s ambition to bring shine to his city, and his determination in seeking those he could partner with to bring this vision to life.

IV.

Back in Santiago, and occupied by the daily affairs of the embassy, Abdelhadi Boucetta left the project on the backburner. By that point, it had been casually mentioned in conversation, and though compelling, it seemed more like a distant possibility than something concretely implementable.

A few weeks after their initial meeting, he got a call from Pedro Velásquez who, after conferring with the city council, stated that the municipality of Coquimbo would be willing to grant a portion of land, hoping that the Moroccan state could contribute to funding the project. Abdelhadi Boucetta, sharing in the mayor’s excitement, responded that the immediate next step would be to put together a detailed proposal outlining the specifications of the offer. Boucetta couldn’t promise anything to Velásquez, but he was similarly excited by the prospect of the project.

In the next few weeks, a conversation began between the Moroccan Ambassador in Santiago and the Mayor of Coquimbo. Velásquez quickly got to work in architecting a dossier that included financial projections, cadastral titles for the land grant, land use plans, electrical and water circuit access, and guarantees from the municipality. In those early days of austral fall in 2003, the focus was on enriching the dossier with as much detail as possible to draw a credible picture of the project’s feasibility. Ultimately, the dossier grew to be around sixty pages, and was appended with a personalized letter from Abdelhadi Boucetta, which detailed the mosque’s potential contributions to the religious leadership of the King on a global level. Indeed, the project was aligned with Morocco’s ambition of positioning itself as a face of Muslim global religious leadership and governance, as well as a key security actor in the fight against terrorism. Crucially, at the time, Islam was confronted with great difficulties internally and externally: the rise of radical Islamisms announced itself across the SWANA region, while mediatic perceptions in the West were quick to overemphasize the supposed violence of the religion after 9/11 and in the midst of a wave of terrorist attacks in the early 2000s. The Casablanca Attacks happened that same year in 2003, Madrid in 2004, and the rise of radical jihadism was taken up by western media and political discourse as a new threat haunting the West.

After July 30th 2003, the Throne Day celebration, our whole family returned to Morocco. We undertook our yearly ziyaras and visits to relatives. My father was taking meetings, and reuniting with friends across the country. It was within this itinerary of re-encounters, that he planned a meeting with Ahmed Taoufiq, who had by that point recently been designated Minister of Islamic Affairs and Endowments (Ministère de Habous et des Affaires Islamiques.) Armed with a sixty page dossier that detailed the Coquimbo municipality’s commitment to granting land and resources for the building of a mosque that would stand in fraternity with the Cruz del Tercer Milenio, Abdelhadi Boucetta introduced the idea directly to Ahmed Taoufiq who was immediately charmed by the project but was equally careful in noting he couldn’t take a decision by himself. It had to be brought up higher. Taoufiq asked Boucetta to leave the proposal with him, and stated that at the first opportunity he got, he would present the idea to the King.

It was a mere few weeks after our return to the Chilean winter at the end of that Moroccan summer that Boucetta received a call from Ahmed Taoufiq. Filled with excitement, Taoufiq related that the king was very pleased with the proposal, giving instructions to move forward with the project and follow the dossier together with the Ambassador. Taoufiq told Boucetta that the necessary resources would be allocated for the purposes of starting the work, and that an architect would be appointed to the project shortly. Ahmed Taoufiq was instrumental in bringing the project up and justifying its alignment with Moroccan cultural and strategic goals.

Shortly after official authorization was given at the end of the summer of 2004, Faissal Cherradi, an official of the Ministry of Culture, then delegate for architectural heritage inspection to the region of Marrakech was appointed as the lead architect. He decided on the Koutoubia Mosque as the model to follow.

Cherradi traveled to Chile, where he began his assessments of the site. He visited the Cerro Dominante with local contractors after the Municipality officially bought the land. At the behest of Velásquez, Chilean workers immediately laid the first foundations to prepare the imminent arrival of Moroccan artisans who would perform above-ground work. The first wave of Moroccan artisans and heritage experts, managed by the Ministry of Islamic Affairs and the Ministry of Culture, were charged with coordinating the placement of electrical and water infrastructure—alongside Chilean contractors—and with designating the proper orientation of the prayer rooms towards the Kaâba, amidst other technicalities. As Cherradi was actively developing plans and timelines, to Velásquez's delight, the project was officially marching towards its concretization.

On December 2nd 2004 came the famous visit of Mohammed the VI to Chile. King Mohammed VI stayed in Chile for two days and three nights. Accompanied by Mohamed Benaissa, the Moroccan Minister of Foreign Affairs, Salaheddine Mezouar, the Minister of Commerce and Industry, Ambassador Abdelhadi Boucetta, and other advisors and officials, he visited Ricardo Lagos at the Presidential Palace of La Moneda in the morning. At night, an official banquet was held at La Moneda, attended by the entire Moroccan delegation, the Chilean government, and the diplomatic corps accredited in Chile.

On the second day, at the Hyatt Hotel, the King turned his eye to maquettes of the Coquimbo project for the first time, accompanied by Ambassador Boucetta, Mayor Velásquez, and officials from both Ministries of Foreign Affairs. It was Boucetta and Velásquez that signed the agreements on the construction of the Mohammed VI Center for the Dialogue of Civilizations while the King presided over the ceremony. Construction work accelerated exponentially after the King left Chile. Abdelhadi Boucetta would go to Coquimbo nearly weekly to sign checks, pay construction workers, and mediate between the diligently working Moroccan and Chilean teams. The architect Faissal Cherradi would come every few months to Chile for two weeks to oversee the progress. Full teams of Moroccan artisans came successively–plaster workers, woodworkers, and a crew of fountain artisans among other specialists that were tasked with ensuring the architectural authenticity of the building.

VI.

While the financial and technical aspects of the project were mostly secured by the time the King left Chile, another more subtly challenging battle was waged throughout. As Boucetta related, the hardest part of this process was convincing the local inhabitants of Coquimbo—as well as the general public in Chile—of the rationale and worth subtending the project, which was accelerating precisely at the same time as the stranglehold of the post 9/11 discourse gripped the world. Islamophobia ran rampant, and Chile was no exception.

Groups of neighbors of the Cerro Dominante were obdurate in their resistance to the project, many of them gripped by Islamophobic fantasies on who and what this building would attract. Swift in his response, Boucetta held a conference for the neighbors, some of whom asked questions as specific as whether there would be a muezzin intoning the call for prayer five times a day. Beyond the neighborhood, Boucetta held another conference for the notable elite of Coquimbo that included business owners, councilors, and port managers. Here, he articulated the stakes and chances involved in the cultural work that the mosque would make possible. The goal wasn’t for the center to become primarily a site of worship more than it was for it to become a symbol of intercultural dialogue that would be open to all, regardless of religious affiliation, race, and gender. Even if muslim prayers would be available at the site, the center would be managed by cultural workers closer to the research arts than to religious leadership.

Some evangelical Christian groups at the local and national level also rose to question the project. Bad faith critics suspected that the project was animated by an underlying proselytizing intention, as if its model of faith would impinge upon the Christian one, the nature of this criticism raising distant echoes of religious bellicosity. Though far from the Iberian peninsula, the memory of Al-Andalus resonated in this moment of cultural tension, as an inescapable ghost of Christian hispanismo. To counter this, Boucetta leveraged his relationship with the Apostolic Nuncio Aldo Cavalli, an influential figure in the diplomatic corps and in the Chilean clerical sphere. Cavalli wrote to the Vatican so as to inform ecclesiastical leadership of the true nature of the project, and prevent any further conflict.

As it were, the cultural work of this mosque began before its construction had even been completed. In merely facing the resistance and sensitivities around the project, a counter-narrative of Islam was already being promoted against the dominant media discourse of the time. It wasn’t only Islam that needed to be explained, but also Morocco and its political system. Of all the points raised, what was hardest to communicate at the time was the role of King Mohammed VI as commander of the believers (Amir al Mu’minin).

This campaign of communication is especially significant in the genealogy of the mosque as the official name and purpose of the building emerged in its wake. During the official visit of the King, it was Mohamed Benaissa, who, in conversation with Boucetta, decided to secularize the nomenclature of the site from “mosque” to “cultural center,” making a diplomatic gesture that would further center the objectives of dialogue promotion, cultural education, and religious tolerance around which the building was erected. These conversations eventually gave rise to the official name, “Centro Mohammed VI para el Diálogo de Civilizaciones” or “Centro Cultural Mohammed VI” for short. From this shift, one can better envision the forces at play which led to downplaying the religiosity of Pedro Velásquez’ initial vision towards something more palatable to Christian democratic political culture, particularly during an era of ambient Islamophobic sentiment. Benaissa and Boucetta had been particularly aware of the evangelical weight of the church in Latin America and of its political influence on this land.

Anecdotally, John Paul II, who had visited Coquimbo twenty years earlier and paved the way for the construction of the cross, died on one of Boucetta’s visits to the construction site. In the mournful air of that day of April 2005, Coquimbo’s Christian population fondly remembered how it had once been chosen for and graced by the pope’s presence. Nearly twenty years later, a mosque would now amplify the range of its religious resonance across cultural borders, thus bringing further notoriety to Coquimbo.

VII.

For Pedro Velásquez, who insisted on the possibility of a mosque in Coquimbo, the political winds began to turn before the project was led to its completion. When Mohammed VI visited Chile, Velásquez was at the height of his popularity, having been reelected in October 2004 as one of the most popular mayors of any Chilean municipality. He is included in the picture below signing the accords related to the construction of the center, opposite Abdelhadi Boucetta in the presence of Mohammed VI. According to Eleazar Garviso Gálvez, a journalist who wrote a biography on Velásquez, the controversial Mayor was instrumental in the transformation of Coquimbo, notably with the cross and the mosque, but also through his commitment to the working class. He created programs to send youth from impoverished neighborhoods of Coquimbo to universities across the region and the country, revalorized the touristic potential of Coquimbo’s historic English neighborhood, and created an extensive network of social housing programs. Through his links with the Church, entertaining relationships with cardinals, he had hoped to have John Paul II inaugurate the Cross of the Third Millenium. He met Gorbachev, Kirchner, Arafat, Mohammed VI and other leaders. And, according to his biographer, he secretly imagined the possibility of reaching the presidency.

At the same time, as Velásquez rose, his biographer notes that he was being used by the political establishment of the Christian Democratic Party of Chile for the votes he could rally in the region. That establishment never let him penetrate the circle of influence within the party that would allow him to achieve national influence. In 2006, he was indicted for tax fraud and conflict of interest by the court of the neighboring city of La Serena for an affair related to shady land purchases which were used for social housing, though supposedly were bought for much more than they were really worth. And though he was foreclosed from serving as Mayor of Coquimbo ever again, this indictment never impacted his popularity among his constituency. In fact, he was elected Deputy for his district in 2010 for a mandate of four years and again in 2018.

VIII.

On an afternoon of austral fall in March 2007 the Mohamed VI Center for the Dialogue of Civilizations was inaugurated in Coquimbo in the presence of a Moroccan delegation that included Ahmed Taoufiq, Mohamed Achaari, Minister of Culture, as well as most of the Moroccan Embassy staff (coincidentally, Mohamed Benaissa happened to be on an official visit to Chile at the same time as the center was inaugurated, but was not able to attend the ceremony.)

Unfortunately for Pedro Velásquez, the judicial events which led to his indictment unraveled approximately a year before construction work on the Coquimbo Mohamed VI Cultural Center ended, meaning he could not be present for the inauguration of his brainchild. Instead, his successor, Oscar Pereira would officiate the opening ceremony of the cultural center. Pedro Velásquez died of cardiac arrest in 2023. Many remember him as the greatest mayor Coquimbo ever saw, who fused his outsize personal ambition with an ambition for the city itself.

IX.

Since its inauguration, the Center has published research, held conferences, and sponsored many events. Recently, the Chilean writer Sergio Macías Brevis put together a compendium of Chilean literature on Morocco, the first effort of its kind, and published it with the imprint based in the Mohammed VI Cultural Center. Many of the texts in the anthology consist of travel literature, such as Elsie Wood’s poems from the 1980s narrating scenes in Tangier and Rabat. Some writers, including Macías Brevis himself, have been exiled to Europe and, benefitting from the geographical proximity to North Africa, have included Morocco in their narratives. Most texts have to do with Chile’s hispanismo as bearing the cultural memory of the North African Muslim presence in Iberia. Traces of Al-Andalus feature prominently as in Gabriela Mistral’s poem “Recuerdo del Árabe Español”. It is worth it to note that there are few Moroccans in Chile, and certainly not a full-fledged community as there may be in other Latin American countries. But this distance is beginning to shrink, partly because of the work of the Center.

Lately, in the Cerro Navia municipality of Santiago, a library named after the feminist Moroccan writer Fatima Mernissi opened in 2021. In Oujda’s Mohamed I University, a chair named after Gabriela Mistral was created in 2024.

In the years since its construction, the center has thus become a portal for Morocco in Chile, and more amply for Arabo-Islamic culture in Latin America, bridging the cultural with the political and the diplomatic and continuing to deepen the ties between Morocco and the Ibero-American world.