Olof Rydbeck's memoirs on W. Sahara

James Baker, Francisco Bastagli – the Special Representatives of the UN’s Secretary General all have a tendency to come out in favor of Sahrawis after the end of their mandate. And it’s not a recent trend either, it’s been going on from the very beginning.

Below you’ll find an excerpt from Olof Rydbeck’s 1990 memoirs, translated from the Swedish original by Western Sahara Info. Rydbeck was the very first Special Representative to Western Sahara in 1976-77, and he toured the area as well as Tindouf when the invasion (or liberation, depending on viewpoint) of Western Sahara was still a work in progress, with the refugee exodus reaching its climax. An aristocratic career diplomat, Rydbeck had served as Sweden’s representative to the UN, and also been the head of Sweden’s national public radio. In 1979 he was appointed head of the Palestinian refugee agency UNRWA, a job which he held until his retirement in 1985. He died in 1995.

To the best of my knowledge, these recollections have never been published in English, despite the political content and rare first-hand testimony. Like his latter-day successors, Rydbeck is scolding in his criticism of Morocco (and Mauritania), for reasons best gleaned by reading the text itself. Boumédiènian Algeria, on the other hand, unexpectedly found grace with Rydbeck, despite his conservative political outlook.

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"The presidency in the [UN Security] Council alternates every month, and my turn came in October 1975. The most important question dealt with during my presidency was Morocco’s decision to send 350,000 people across the border to Spanish Western Sahara – the so called Green March – in order to stress its claim to the area. There existed an obvious risk for clashes between Spaniards and Moroccans. On the request of the Spanish ambassador, I summoned the Council on October 20. When I turned over the chairmanship to the Soviet ambassador Jakov Malik, at the turn of the month between October-November, the council was waiting for a report from the Secretary-General [Kurt Waldheim], who had been charged with finding a solution to the conflict through contacts with the parties. We got both one and two reports, but the initiative in the council fizzled out. The Green March, which consisted of a lot of people moving a kilometer or two into the Spanish Saharan part of the desert and then back, took place with no incidents.

Barely a month later, on November 14, the Spanish struck an agreement over Western Sahara with Morocco and Mauritania. The Spaniards declared that they would leave the area on February 28, 1976, at the latest, and meanwhile a shared three-party administration was created. This agreement ignited a fierce battle in the General Assembly, where Morocco and Algeria faced each other. The results of the hot debate in the General Assembly were absurd, in that two resolutions were approved, that were to some extent wholly incompatible. But they had in common that the views of the Saharaoui population would be surveyed, even if the two resolutions pointed to different methods for this consultation.

I accepted in the beginning of 1976, with the consent of the [Swedish] government, to become the Special Representative of the Secretary-General in the Western Sahara question, after Gunnar Jarring had declined. Combat and disturbances had broken out, and the question was posed if it was at all possible, under these circumstances, to reliably consult the population, of which a large part had reportedly fled into Algeria. My mission was, therefore, to try to determine the conditions for the population’s right to self-determination to be exercised, and to bring suggestions to the Secretary-General on what role the UN could play in this context.

I first held talks in Madrid with the Spanish government. The decision to leave Western Sahara after “the Green March” and to strike the agreement with Morocco and Mauritania, had been taken at the time when Franco was at his death bed, and there was great insecurity and worry for the future in Spain. From my talks with Foreign Minister José Maria Alreiza and others, I got the strong impression that they deplored this rash step, but that they were impatiently looking forward to the day when they could finally wash their hands of Western Sahara. Their military forces were already withdrawn.

On February 7, I flew from Madrid to the capital of Western Sahara, El Aaiún, followed by staff from the UN and one of my own co-workers at the UN representation, John Hagard. The visit lasted until February 12, when I returned to Madrid.

A “visiting mission” from the UN had visited the colony the previous year, while Spain was still in full control, and in its report it had been able to deliver convincing proof that the population, when the Spanish had left, wished that Western Sahara would become an independent state. The UN group had been met by large and enthusiastic crowds that demanded independence with a loud voice. The Spaniards had put no obstacles in the way of the UN representatives to meet whomever they wanted, nor had they blocked the demonstrations. When I and my small staff arrived we were met by sparsely populated manifestations who tried to look like a crowd and shouted with disciplined fervor: “long live King Hassan”. Morocco had taken charge and given directions. I received a number of delegations, all of them declaring with one voice and in identical words that they were Moroccans, or, in the Mauritanian sector, Mauritanians. I was flown with my staff in Hercules aircraft to the cities of Smara and Dakhla, and some of the “crowds” that greeted us enthusiastically on arrival had traveled on the same flights as we. When I received youth groups in El Aaiún and Smara, their spokesman turned out to be the same individual. Generally, one saw very few young people. The old sheikhs in their light blue burnouses were bitterly complaining that their sons had either been seduced or kidnapped by the Algerians. These serious and concerned old men had traditionally been the practitioners of the tribal and familial authority that the young generation, partly raised at Spanish schools and universities, now had broken away from. They surely cared less about who held highest authority over them, Spain or Morocco, but you could feel their deep unhappiness over how the whole of their inherited society had broken down.

One of the groups that visited me consisted of miners from the phosphate mines in Boukra. They were of course just as Moroccan as all the others. But on the way out, one of them slipped me a piece of paper. I hurried to stick it in my pocket, but too late. When the group left the room I heard loud voices outside, and I sent out a couple of members of my staff to see what was going on. They brought the man with the paper back with them. Some of the other members of the group, who had seen him give me the note, had threatened to kill him, and he refused to go back out again. The note turned out to contain a petition from Polisario, the Saharan liberation movement, to the UN. It was obvious that the man felt he was in mortal danger. I summoned the three so-called governors, a Spaniard, a Moroccan and a Mauritanian. The Spaniard, a Lieutenant Colonel in his fifties named Valdes, I had come to trust already from the start, a wise and honest man. The Moroccan was the director of the comedy act that had been playing since early morning until evening, in order to fool me. The Mauritanian didn’t say a word, it was Morocco that ran the place. I reiterated that the Secretary-General and I had been given absolute guarantees from the concerned governments that anyone who so desired would be able to see me, speak to me or hand over petitions. If they wouldn’t give me immediate assurance that this man would remain unmolested, I would immediately break off my mission and return to New York, and report to the Secretary-General. The Moroccan tried to convince me that the whole thing was a misunderstanding, and the miner from Boukra that he had nothing to fear. Valdes then intervened, and said that the man could stay with him for the night, and that he would himself put him on the first flight to the Canary Islands next morning. This was also what happened, and I later received word that the man had arrived unharmed in Algeria via Spain. I later asked Valdes what he thought about the death threat. The man wouldn’t have survived the night, he said, he would probably have been found dead on some street the next morning, if he hadn’t been protected.

Before Spain’s capitulation, El Aaiún had had about 40,000 inhabitants, they told me, but now there were perhaps 4,000. The figures for the two other cities, Smara and Dakhla, were 1,000,instead of 5,000 and 4,000 respectively. All these “crowds” that had been mobilised for my visit were thin rows of docile remaining Saharaouis or flown-in Moroccans.

We knew already when we were there, that battles were being fought in and on the border of the territory. Security was extremely precarious. When we drove in from the airport in Smara to the city, the road was lined with Moroccan soldiers – but they weren’t a guard of honour. They all had their backs to the road, facing the desert with their guns at the ready. The last day in El Aaiún I insisted on taking a tour by foot through the city; I’d been locked up in the hotel the whole time and wanted to have a look at the city by ocular inspection. The Moroccans were making trouble, but I won in the end. When my staff and I passed through the nearly empty city, we were surrounded by a wall of security people, and on the roofs along our route, shooters sat prepared.

It was obviously out of the question to consult the Saharaoui people under these circumstances, and my report to the Secretary-General left no room for doubt on that matter. However, it was decided that I would make a second trip, this time to Algeria, Morocco and Mauritania. The order [of the destinations] had been set through negotiations between the Secretary-General and the concerned countries. I ended up visiting only Algeria.

Immediately after arrival to Algiers on March 30, I had a conversation with Foreign Minister Bouteflika. He insisted that it was necessary for me to go to Tindouf in the Sakahar desert, close to the border of Western Sahara, to meet Polisario representatives. Well aware that a visit by me there could create problems with Morocco, I had in collaboration with Waldheim tried to get one of Polisario’s representatives to come up to Algiers instead. I was told that this wasn’t doable, for transport-technical reasons. Before I decided to go, I had a telephone conversation with Waldheim, and we both agreed that I couldn’t refuse. I simply had to meet the Polisario leadership.

It was all young people. No one could be mistaken of their firm resolution to fight for their cause. Everybody at the same time agreed that there was no way we could go through with a referendum or some other form of consultation of Saharaouis, under present circumstances. Close to Tindouf was one of the big camps for refugees from Western Sahara, and I was invited to see it. In a big tent city, one of several, thousands of people were living. I couldn’t tell how many thousands, but my guides claimed it was 15,000 in this camp alone.

My visit concluded on April 2, with an audience at the President of Algeria, Houari Boumedienne. That was the first and only time in my life I have received a guard of honour, and it wasn’t just any guard of honour. They were soldiers in the most splendid uniforms, holding long lances in their hands. Boumedienne had a natural and quiet dignity that impressed.

As I flew back to Geneva, according to plan, I was met with the news that I was no longer welcome in Morocco and Mauritania. In words so strong they bordered on insults, the two governments explained that I had overstepped my mandate during the visit in Algeria. But my mandate came from Waldheim, and I had been in contact with him the whole time. Additionally, Waldheim and I had from the very beginning both made clear to the Moroccans that I had to meet representatives of Polisario in order to fullfill my mission. I think it was the publicity that Polisario got from my visit in Tindouf, that made them realise that further media attention for my mission was not in their interest. Better then to bring it to a swift halt, and to discredit me as much as possible."

(Excerpt from Olof Rydbeck, I maktens närhet. Diplomat, radiochef, FN-ämbetsman. Bonniers, Uddevalla 1990. ISBN: 91-0-047951-9. Pages 252-257. All spellings and transliterations are Rydbeck's own.)

Morocco's elections

Moroccan legislative elections have now been set for September 7, 2007. The big issue in these elections is whether the Islamist party PJD will be allowed to win -- as a poll from the International Republican Institute (IRI) predicted they will -- but rest assured that actions are being taken to prevent such unpleasant surprises. But on the margins of this, perhaps we'll see some Western Sahara action too. We did last time, remember?

In 2002, independence activists Ali Salem Tamek and Mohamed El Moutaouakil tried to register as candidates in the Sahrawi-dominated Assa-Zug district in southern Morocco, but of course ended up in prison for threatening state security instead. And so, as usual, only a carefully groomed selection of pro-annexation Sahrawis stood for election in Moroccan-controlled Western Sahara. Afterwards Morocco hailed this as proof that Sahrawis aspire to be part of the kingdom -- why else would they participate in the elections? Indeed, the government insisted, somehow keeping a straight face, why would the electoral participation be so much higher in Western Sahara than in the rest of the kingdom, where all the election observers were?

Now, Moroccan law on the subject of Western Sahara remains as repressive as ever, but the May 2005 unrest in El Aaiún seems to have broken down, or at least struck a bad crack in, that barrier of fear which blocked all free expression of pro-independence sentiments among Sahrawi civil society activists just years ago. So chances are there'll be pro-independence (or, as some are, simply pro-self determination) Sahrawis trying to run again.

Morocco has wagered much on these elections, and needs to get a good grade from observers; chances are some of them will venture into Sahrawi-dominated provinces this time. But on the other hand, with autonomy and CORCAS all the rage, can it afford to admit that many Sahrawis aspire not for autonomy under the wise guidance of Khellihenna Ould Errachid, but for outright independence? Ali Salem Tamek is presently touring Europe advocating independence, and may well be arrested upon return (as he was in 2005), and people such as Brahim Sabbar and Ahmed Sbai of the ASVDH are already behind bars. But there are several other high-profile activists that may consider a run for parliament: El Moutaouakil, Aminatou Haidar, to only mention a few. Even if it's an election they don't recognize, and more likely to place them in jail than in parliament, the arrival of hundreds of foreign observers to Morocco and (inshallah) Western Sahara, would be an opportunity too good to miss for the independence activists. And for Morocco's would-be democracy, it's a test too important to fail.

Recognizing the republic

And another year goes by.

Tomorrow is the 27 of February, the day when Polisario and supporters will trek out to Tifariti to celebrate the 31st anniversary of the declaration of independence for the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic, with great fanfare and much sabre-rattling. Of course, they might as well celebrate its 31 years of non-independence, but there's no need for excessive cynicism either. As a diplomatic tool, the SADR has worked well for the movement, and become one of its most valuable assets. In its heyday, it was recognized by some 70 states the world over, not unimaginably far from an admission vote in the UN's General Assembly. With the cease-fire in 1991, and the decline of thirdworldist nationalism post-Cold War, some of these countries have withdrawn their recognitions. (The SADR of course disputes that you can legally "stop" recognizing it once having admitted its existence, but they're not exactly in a position to force anyone to listen.) While some have done so as a result of new and more pro-Moroccan policies, rarely have they gone to the other extreme and explicitly recognized Moroccan sovereignty, since this is not recognized even by the UN. Instead, they've just cut relations and let it be: a few, and this was notably the motive of most Latin American retractions, have said that they will "freeze" their recognition in order not to prejudge the referendum. Others, like South Africa, Namibia and East Timor, all latecomers to independence, have added themselves to the list, arguing that they were in the exact same situation just years ago -- and that if Morocco won't hold a referendum anyway, there's no reason to wait in taking sides. In any event, the list of countries who have and uphold formal diplomatic relations with the SADR has shortened somewhat. Today it's about 45 countries, the great majority of them in Africa, where the SADR also holds a seat in the African Union. (Morocco, precisely because of that, doesn't.)

Notable for their absence from that list are the ex-Soviet states, despite Morocco's insistent, implausible, descriptions of the Polisario as a "Marxist-Leninist" movement. The only Communist states that ever recognized the SADR were a few oddball strays from the Warszaw consensus, like Cuba, North Korea and Yugoslavia, who all wanted to have a role in the Nonaligned movement (despite, in the case of Cuba, being very much aligned) and whose diplomacy mostly concerned ways of proving their "independence" in foreign policy. Moscow itself politely declined, and ordered all its satellites to follow suit, despite good relations with Polisario's backers in Algiers in the 70s. Instead it struck up some nice phosphate & fisheries deals with Morocco, and even sold arms to Morocco over Polisario's angry protests. China also couldn't care less about the issue, as it came to the fore only when the nation had essentially shut down its revolutionary thirdworldist approach in foreign policy. And the US, of course, was with Morocco all along, for geostrategical reasons, even if it had some severe fits of bad conscience for this under Jimmy Carter and George Bush Sr. For the SADR, it was a good thing to avoid being tied up to either superpower bloc, since this allowed them to stay out of the Cold War and pass through the 89-91 third world convulsions relatively unscathed. But it was also a dinstinctly bad thing, because it left the movement with exactly zero powerful allies. The scores of third world and nonaligned countries who did support Polisario were all terribly kind and sympathetic, but for all their flag-waving and militant rhetoric, they weren't exactly financial powerhouses, and there was little practical aid forthcoming.

The recognition game remains in play. It is essentially a diplomatic shadow theatre, and as long as still-valid recognitions of the SADR do not approach the high 90s (there being 192 member states of the UN) , it has no practical meaning. But as a show of political support, it is tremendously important. Both Morocco and Algeria take the matter very seriously, and both are continously active in trying to convince (and coerce and bribe) other nations into accepting their point of view. For Morocco especially, the issue is an absolute obsession, and the country today has hinged its entire foreign policy on the Sahara Question, even to the extent of letting its once-visible role in Middle Eastern affairs slip. Algeria can afford to take a slightly more laid-back position, essentially contenting itself with pushing back whenever Morocco makes advances, and by bringing the issue up in virtually every international forum there is, in order to keep its neighbour continuously occupied and frustrated, in a whack-a-mole sort of way.

More active on the ground are the Polisario diplomats (who are SADR diplomats in countries which recognize the republic). They are found in a surprisingly large number of countries, especially in Europe and Africa, where they now enter their fourth decade of barefoot diplomacy. All that time, from run-down little offices with camels and Abdelaziz photos on their walls, they have been pouring out a steady stream of faxed and e-mailed invitations to conferences, explanatory communiques to the press and briefs on the independence struggle.

Less so in the United States, though. Since the Sahrawi leadership has so obviously pinned their hopes on the US forcing Morocco's hand, virtually going all in with the Baker Plan, it remains a mystery why they refuse to dispatch more than one or two representatives to the United States. And they're suffering badly for it. Morocco has hired a number of PR agencies to promote itself in Washington, and has a state-run lobby group run by a former US diplomat that does little else but promote the kingdom's Saharan policies. In comparison, the only professional group supporting Sahrawi claims (with hard cash, not just rhetoric and the furrowed brows of human rights activism) has been the Defense Forum Foundation, a small conservative lobby group which deals mostly in bashing North Korea and supporting Western Sahara's independence. Rumour has it that Algeria is now belatedly about to hire a few mercenary pens of its own, with all that oil wealth it is unable to spend anyway. That might even the playing field a bit for the Sahrawi representation in the US.

But even so, it's next year in Tifariti.

Re: Sahrawis in Mauritania

I would just like to again point the distinguished readership to the comment thread of the Touareg post, where I discuss the number of Sahrawis in Mauritania (like the original post, thanks to Jonathan Edelstein, whose blog I cannot recommend warmly enough).

The Sahrawis in Mauritania (whether self-identified as such, or so described by the UN, the Mauritanian government, the SADR, or any combination of them) is an often overlooked factor in this conflict. All in all, they account for some 30,000 people that are concentrated in the regions close to Western Sahara (mainly Zouerate and Nouadhibou), and are often quite important in the local economies, holding a strong role in Mauritanian and Sahrawi business & trade. In the comment thread, I put the number down as 20-25,000, but this was apparently too low, based on old statistics. More recent figures say about 30,0000.

For example, the UNHCR counted 29,500 "stateless/other" residents in Mauritania in 2004 (pdf), and these are almost all Sahrawis (various stateless Africans, and perhaps the odd Palestinian, make up for the rest). They either arrived immediately from the war to Mauritania, or more commonly via a longer or shorter residence in the Tindouf camps. (I recommend this interesting overview by the UNHCR [pdf] which gives some hints of the extensive contacts and movement between Tindouf and Mauritania). In addition to this already quite high number, there are many more with family and tribal ties to the 30K, who to some extent will identify as Sahrawis, even if they have continuously held Mauritanian citizenship since the creation of the state.

They and their political and tribal affiliates do play a role within Mauritanian politics, most specifically of course in the country's complicated stance towards the Sahara question, but they are also increasingly a factor in the politics of Polisario -- both for being more affluent and politically influential than most refugees in Tindouf; and for being closer in contact with Sahrawis in the occupied territories; and for being out of reach from any Algerian attempts to pressure them politically.

For further reading on the demographics of Western Sahara and Mauritania, their common populations and the formation of a distinct Sahrawi people, the source material in English is sparse but of relatively high quality. Unfortunately, most of it is also old, dating back to the early 1980s or 1970s. But do have a look at the Adloff & Thompson book, as well as Hodges and Mercer, that I've listed here; and at Anthony Pazzanita's two books in Scarecrow's Historical Dictionary series, on Mauritania and Western Sahara respectively (the W. Sahara volume was recently published in a brand new version; I'm not sure about Mauritania). Online, you'll find the 1990 Library of Congress study of Mauritania, which is a truly excellent reference. You might also want to check out ARSO's online Western Sahara bibliography, here. For numbers and conditions of refugee Sahrawis in Mauritania today, the UNHCR remains the only primary source online. The Minurso voter identification process, which marginally dealt with the Sahrawi community in Mauritania, is summarized in numbers at the mission's website, and discussed more in-depth in Erik Jensen's Anatomy of a Stalemate (2005).

Why self-determination for W. Sahara?

A reader has commented on the post Elsewhere in the Sahara..., about the Algerian role in the Saharan/Sahel states, and specifically about its role in stopping the Touareg rebellion in Mali. As my answer grew long, I thought I'd just make it a main post, because the issue that she or he brings up is important. Why does the people of Western Sahara have the right to a self-determination referendum, if not all African peoples do?

Studentintheus writes:

I was at the point to write about the Touareg when you published this interesting post. I was amazed to know that Algeria don't want to hear any discussion about any form of independence or autonomy for the Touareg people. I was surprised because Algeria is the strongest supporter of Polisario worldwide and the Western Sahara issue is in the top priorities of The Algerian foreign policy. But try to discuss anything close to self-determination with the Algerian government and you will see how it will react. Algeria justfies its hosting and support to the Polisario Front by the fact that it is convinced of the Sahrawi people right for self-determination. So how it comes it opposes the slightest discussion about any kind of self determination for the Touareg people ? Any available explanation ?

Yes, there is an explanation.

The obvious reason is that would be bad for Algeria, with its oil down south and all. That might not convince you, or me, but it does count in Algeria. The government does, however, have a more appealing case than that, and a very strong one at that. But before I go into it, I noticed that you mention autonomy. This is another question. If Algeria so pleases, it can grant any form of autonomy to Touareg areas. That's an internal issue between government and people (or perhaps rephrased for an Algerian context, between this general and that).

Today in Algeria, the government doesn't allow for Touareg autonomy. In fact, it grants no autonomous status at all, to any part of its territory or people: like most in Africa, it's a centralized state. But then again, in the case of the Touareg, there is simply no demand for autonomy either, unlike what was the case in Mali. The Touareg have their grievances towards the central state like all Algerians (their tribal hierarchy was rather brutally disbanded by Boumédiène in the 70s, for example), but they haven't found an expression in separatism or nationalism, at least not to the point where this is actively advocated by any strong representatives of the Touareg. But there is a better example we can use. In Kabylie, the most restive Berber region in the country, there are some movements who do advocate autonomy. The most well-known is the MAK party, which, like their "regionalist" aspirations, arose after the "Black Spring" of 2001. If maltreatment and neglect of the Kabylie continues, that is certain to make the concept of self-rule more appealing, but for now, it seems (to me) that it is still pretty marginal. I'm not sure it's a bad idea though, and I think it's more bureaucratic and decideur resistance, as well as a fear on the part of Berbers to be branded separatists, than any expectation of ethnic domino effects that holds back discussion of it. You can compare all this to how Morocco is perfectly free to extend autonomy to any part of its territory, if it so pleases: the problem with the CORCAS plan is that Western Sahara isn't, at least not yet, a Moroccan territory.

Back to the question. Fortunately for the Algerian government, the Touareg and the Sahrawi situations are vastly different, not only in that there is no Touareg advocacy of independence in Algeria, but also in terms of international law and African decolonization practice.

The Western Sahara builds the whole case for its self-determination on inherited colonial borders. Between 1884 and 1975, whatever the prehistory, it was a separate territory with its own colonial master (Spain). And every single such colonial territory in Africa, except Western Sahara, has been granted independence: the last ones were Namibia in 1990 and Eritrea in 1993. (A belated Asian case, very similar to W. Sahara, was East Timor, which became independent only in 2002 after lengthy occupation by neigbouring Indonesia.)

To make matters even clearer, the UN has ruled that all colonial territories have the right to self-determination, in General Assembly resolution 1514, of 1960, which has since then become an established part of international law. Many of today's third-world countries in fact base their legal claim to existence on that resolution. The International Court of Justice (ICJ) looked into the Spanish Sahara case in 1975, on Moroccan demand, and came out unambigously in favor of applying 1514 on Western Sahara:

... the Court's conclusion is that the materials and information presented to it do not establish any tie of territorial sovereignty between the territory of Western Sahara and the Kingdom of Morocco or the Mauritanian entity. Thus the Court has not found legal ties of such a nature as might affect the application of General Assembly resolution 1514 (XV) in the decolonization of Western Sahara and, in particular, of the principle of self-determination through the free and genuine expression of the will of the peoples of the Territory.

That settles it for Western Sahara: its people has a legal right to self-determination. This has been confirmed again and again by the UN Security Council, ever since, and even Morocco formally subscribes to this (even if it also holds that Western Sahara has already exercised its self-determination: back in 1975, by joyfully welcoming their Moroccan liberators).

Note however what the court said: it is not "Sahrawis" in general who have this right, it is "the peoples of the territory", thus restricting the claim to those Sahrawis who were deemed native to the territory. Sahrawi people and tribes whose main residence has traditionally been located safely within in, say, Mauritania, Mali or, most importantly today, Morocco, are thus not entitled to take part in this self-determination process, which is the self-determination of the territory, not of the (widely scattered) ethnic group. This is extremely imporant, because Morocco has settled tens of thousands of supposedly loyal (are they?) Sahrawis in the territory, in order to stack the voter rolls against independence. Most of them are uncontestably from within Moroccan territory in Western Sahara, where their tribes have lived for generations with little or no contact with today's Western Sahara except, occasionally, as traders. The Moroccan argument is that the vote should be widened to all Sahrawis (or Moors, i.e. Hassaniya-speaking nomads), regardless of origins or citizenships in other states, in order to take their nomadic habits in consideration. But the kingdom also signally fails to include the two million or so Mauritanians who would qualify under those rules, and who would by sheer numbers easily determine the vote. Why? Because they wouldn't necessarily vote in favor of Morocco.

Now, to the other people in question. What about the Touareg in Algeria?

Different case altogether. They were always under the same French colonial sovereignty as other Algerians, and the southern Algerian borders have never been in dispute. There has never been a separate Touareg country, colony or mandate that they could claim territorial self-determination for. So they would have to base any claims to self-rule solely on wanting independence and being ethnically distinct from their surroundings.

However, the African Union, previously OAU, has decided (like in §4b) that no-one is allowed to alter the colonial borders in Africa: uti possidetis, who has keeps. This has with time become the union's perhaps most sacred principle, and one of few to actually be respected by most of its members, since everybody agrees that if it could be safely ignored, that would open the gates of hell. It doesn't matter how badly drawn the borders are, because they're equally illogical all over, and almost every country in Africa is packed with secession-prone minorities, to the point that many doesn't have an ethnic majority at all. If one single border is unilaterally changed, or one single province is allowed to force independence, that would set a disastrous precedent for the entire continent. Or so the argument goes: it has been cynically exploited by many African leaders, but it is also, one must admit, true. Indeed, the only interstate wars in Africa about territorial sovereignty (as opposed to exact demarcation of fuzzily drawn borders) have been the Somali-Ethiopian Ogaden war in 1977-78, and the Moroccan attempts to annex parts of just-liberated Algeria, which led to the Sand war in 1963. Morocco is also the only African country not to be member of the union, precisely because the kingdom refuses to accept uti possidetis, and because the principle (and generous amounts of Algerian lobbying) has led to the Sahrawi republic's admission as a member state, in 1984.

What all this means is, more or less, that Touareg nationalists are chanceless. They fulfill none of the criteria that awarded colonial peoples self-determination rights -- to begin with, they aren't a "colonial people" at all, but one of many African peoples and tribes whose traditional lands have been cut up by European colonialists, and who will now have to find some way to deal with living under many different regimes. The Sahrawis, divided between Mauritania, Western Sahara, Morocco, Algeria, Mali and other places, are in the same situation: it is the Western Saharan Sahrawis that has a special right of self-determination, through being the (only) original population of a non-decolonized territory. They are, legally, in the same position as Algerians or Moroccans were before their independence: they have a right to determine their future, and the UN still places Western Sahara on its list of self-governing countries. (Alone among major territories, with a smattering of tiny Pacific islands.)

But the Touareg do not have that right, and their ex-colonial territory is on no UN list -- since they they have no ex-colonial territory, and since they are a consequently a minority within a recognized independent state (or five). Their case is exactly like that of the Rif Berbers in Morocco, the Kabyles in Algeria, or the Wolof people in southern Mauritania. No-one would ever accept their secession, because that could spell the end of border legitimacy in the region. They'll have to set their sights on either some form of autonomous status inside their state, if they believe that will serve them (I'm not too sure), or, to demand what they very much are entitled to: equal consideration as full citizens of their state, democracy and respect for the human rights of all Algerians, Malians, Libyans and others in the countries where the Touareg live today.

Elsewhere in the Sahara...

This is not strictly a Western Sahara post, but, whatever Polisario likes to pretend, developments in Algerian foreign policy are crucial to this conflict, so I'll indulge myself. It follows up on a discussion started over at the Head Heeb -- a blog I warmly recommend -- and concerns that other unruly tribal people of the western Sahara region, the Touareg.

The Kel Tamashek, as they prefer to be called, have been a constant source of unrest in all regions they inhabit, alternately rebelling and supporting the governments of Libya, Algeria, Mali, Niger and Burkina Faso (and in colonial times, they had a serious beef with France). Mostly, the problems have stemmed from their migratory habits and uncompromising tribal ways, which have conflicted sharply with the national state formation process in the Saharan and Sahel regions. Among other causes of conflict count government corruption and repression, Sahel desertification, and, not least, foreign encouragment of Touareg uprisings.

Foreign, here, could just as well be written "Libyan". Muammar al-Qadhafi spent much of the 80s encouraging rebel sentiment among the Touareg by dreaming up a pan-Saharan federation, hiring unemployed Touareg men by the thousands to serve in his armed forces, and, more concretely, giving them lots of guns for free. This was one among the main causes of state-Touareg conflict in Mali and Niger, where it has been particularly vicious. (On the positive side, it also spawned Tinariwen, proving again that everything Qadhafi touches turns to funk.)

The Brotherly Guide of the Great Libyan Arab Jamahiriya has by now stopped his most blatant meddling in surrounding countries, even if he continues to sporadically appeal for a Saharan super federation. But in Mali, that rare democratic oasis in an otherwise happily authoritarian Sahel region, unrest has continued to simmer after the civil war that brought the one-party regime down in 1990-92; democratization certainly helped in maintaining the fragile peace. (Niger did without democracy, but on the other hand, is not entirely quiet either.) But in 2006, even that proved incapable to bridge the gulf created by continued government neglect of Mali's Touareg north: centered in the town of Kidali, an outburst of anti-government violence put the fear of civil war into the entire region. The rebels, styling themselves the Democratic Alliance of May 23rd for Change, were disgruntled veterans of the earlier conflict, many of them with roots in the Qadhafyism of the 1980s.

Algeria immediately reacted, and like when the original peace agreement was achieved, decided that the conflict needed forceful mediation. Some pushing and shoving, and a peace agreement between the Bamako government was stitched together. It stipulates that the Touareg will steer clear of any demands for autonomy (as both Mali and Algeria fears that introducing a principle of state decentralization in the Sahel will lead to Balkanization), and that they will in return finally get those long-promised improvements in their standards of living. But more important than the text of the agreement, and on par with the fact that there is now peace, is how Algeria simultaneously acted to suck up the Kidali Touaregs as a local client.

Already before the agreement was formally signed, Democratic Alliance forces, which had until then maintained a studied neutrality, began attacking GSPC units in northern Mali. Malian papers filled with ominous reports of the Touareg being armed by Boutefliqa's agents, but Algiers maintained its formal neutrality in negotiations and saw the agreement through --even if it could not contain its glee over the the fact that the GSPC, which recently renamed itself "al-Qaida in the Maghreb", now risked losing its most important Saharan safehaven. According to the web site of the Algerian foreign ministry, the peace agreement also includes a little-noticed, but rather unusual provision: the Democratic Alliance will, before disarming under Algerian scrutiny, group itself into "special units" tasked with "combatting terrorism" and "eliminating any armed foreign presence" on Malian soil. I wonder which party to the conflict came up with that one...

The point of all this, is that it is yet another sign of Algeria's rise towards regional hegemony in the western part of the Sahara desert. Northern Mali is today quite clearly within an Algerian "zone of interest", and if the agreements hold, it will in the coming years feature an Algerian-directed campaign of Touaregs trying to flush out al-Qaida from its major Saharan hideout. The end of the civil war in Algeria meant a more extrovert foreign policy, and with oil money pouring in, Algerian diplomats, long seen as among the most skilled negotiators in the Arab and African world, suddenly find themselves in a position of strength they haven't felt since the Boumédiènnian 1970s. This combination of renewed interest in foreign policy and surging economic and political power, will undoubtedly have consequences.

One is a potential rivalry with the always Sahara-focused Libya, whose charmingly insane dictator just seems to have escaped from superpower containment. He's got his own turf to defend in the Sahel, and he's no less fattened on oil money. Increasing Algerian influence over some Sahelian states, may also mean a domino effect of growing influence in their neighbours. For example, Mauritania may find reason to readjust its carefully neutral position in the Western Sahara, even if much speaks against that too. Also, France and Washington, both of which care deeply about the region, will find Algeria an increasingly important partner -- to their liking or not, but Algeria largely shares their interests in the region anyway: enforcing stability, preventing al-Qaida from establishing itself, promoting Sahel sate cooperation and trade.

Finally of course, Algeria itself remains somewhat diplomatically handicapped by the Western Sahara issue. Its ruling elite is quite conscious of this, and will want to resolve the issue as soon as possible. But one must not forget that the Sahara issue also works in Algeria's favor, and at a very low cost to the government -- it effectively neutralizes Morocco from achieving strategic parity in the region (since it is unable to focus on anything except not losing hold of Western Sahara), and provides important leverage within the African union.

Therefore, the naïve hopes that Algerian rulers will one day suddenly drop the Polisario and let Morocco win, which have shaped policy in most Western states for 30 years now, are as vain as ever. They badly misunderstand the dynamics of the conflict from the Algerian perspective, and ignore the fact that Algeria feels that it made a huge concession by forcing Polisario to accept the James Baker peace plan in 2003, only to see the US turn around and back Morocco's refusal of it. If Washington had hoped to buy Algerian complacency in the Sahara quid pro quo, then where's the quid?

If a deal is ever going to be struck over the heads of Polisario -- which isn't likely right now and getting less so -- then it would come at a steep price for Morocco. Algeria knows that as it grows constantly stronger, it will either win or be able to extract even heavier concessions in a future compromise, and while the cost of the conflict is massive to Morocco, it's cheap and easy for Algeria. So for the forseeable future, Algiers will be content to stick to stated policy, the referendum, all the while enjoying the spectacle of an alternately cursing and pleading Morocco banging its head on its gilded cage of UN resolutions. It might even, emboldened by its recent advances and budget surpluses, decide that the time has come to push back.

Things to do in Tifariti

[Pictures: Polisario troops, fighting the media war.]
With the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic's 31st anniversary coming up this week, we're bound to see a modest little peak in media attention. Polisario will, as they've been doing for some years, bring foreign representatives, solidarity people and other international invitees, all the way from the refugee camps in Tindouf, Algeria, to what it terms the "liberated territories" of Western Sahara. Between them, Tindouf and the Western Saharan village of Tifariti will once again host a variety of attention-grabbing activities: the annual Sahara Marathon, a solidarity conference, and other things, plus of course the February 27 ceremonies.
[For curiosity value: a short video of El Ouali declaring the republic, in 1976, can be found here.]

Tifariti, despite its semi-mythical status in Sahrawi nationalist lore, is a miserable place. The few permanent buildings are inhabited mostly by military staff, and many of them were reduced to rubble by Moroccan airstrikes in 1991 -- the last attack before the cease-fire settled in. Polisario will therefore need to entertain visiting reporters with some stunts of their own, to justify the stiff half-day jeep ride it takes to get there from Tindouf. But hosting strangers and skilfully showing off some Sahrawi exotism to wide-eyed Westerners, fortunately, is one of the movement's strong sides. Apart from much sipping of sugared tea, which would happen with or without foreign guests, there will probably be excursions to scouting positions overlooking the Moroccan wall, parades and flag-raising ceremonies, as well as a flurry of meetings and conferences with the Sahrawi top brass.

Occasionally, guests are treated to more explosive displays. Last year, the Polisario assembled a military force of some 2600 soldiers, plus a minor tank battle group, parading them in front of cameras to great effect. This made waves even in the security council: Kofi Annan reported that the movement had breached the 1991 cease-fire's first "military agrement." Morocco tried to put a different spin on this, claiming that Polisario had made an incursion into an off-limits "no-man's land", or "border zone", and was threatening the cease-fire. In fact, Tifariti is well within recognized Polisario-held territory, and the Polisario army is thus only subject to minor restrictions and report duties there: Military Agreement No. 1 stipulates the following for the zone that includes Tifariti (as well as Moroccan-held Western Sahara):

All normal military activities can be carried out with the exception of the reinforcement of existing minefields, the laying of mines, the concentration of forces, the construction of new headquarters, barracks and ammunition storage facilities. MINURSO need to be informed if the parties intend to conduct military exercises, including the firing of weapons of a calibre above 9 mm.

The UNSG's complaint in this case was over force concentration and/or lack of coordination with Minurso commanders, if this was to be regarded as an exercise. But, never big on fact-checking, the Moroccan press is already gearing up for another round of injured cries over cease-fire violations, in case Polisario is planning another military parade for this year.

It's entirely possible that this is what Polisario is hoping for. Both Morocco and Polisario have generally stuck to the cease-fire accords (excluding the referendum part, which has been unilaterally annulled by Morocco), and the people that count, in the countries that count, know this. They also know that, despite the militant rhetoric that a khaki-clad Abdelaziz will undoubtedly put on for February 27, he cannot order a resumption of fighting without the approval of Algiers.

But for everybody else, reporters and readers and such, the prospect of renewed fighting in the Maghreb is a source of serious concern, which can justify a rare Western Sahara headline or two. If Polisario decides to pull together another military parade, with or without UN approval, and the Moroccan press goes into another fit of hysteria over it, that may well have been what the movement was hoping all along. The more people that think the cease-fire is seriously under threat, the more people will pay attention to the situation: and media attention is by default as positive for Polisario, seeking change, as it is negative for Morocco, seeking to hold on to the status quo.

So get ready for some tough talk in Tifariti.

Radio Free Maghreb

OK, so maybe I'm the last one to find it, but this www.magharebia.com website was a pleasant surprise to stumble upon. I've been looking for this for some time: a regularly updated, correctly spelled English-language web resource on Maghreb affairs. Politics, business, the lot. And here it is, finally!

[Picture: Abu Moulay.]

Of course, on closer inspection, the page turns out to be funded and operated by the US Army. But then again, so is a surprisingly large part of the Arab world. And if Iraq leaves something to desire in the way of efficient management, the USEUCOM (the Army's European command, for lack of an African one) turns out to do a fair job as webmasters. Also, since they've been nice enough to declare who they are, you kind of come in prepared for any sneaky psyops they might want to spring at you. All in all, I'd say they're better off trying to democratize the Middle East like this than through military intervention ... click & awe!

For the purpose of this blog, I ventured out on a quick recon mission to scout for Western Sahara biases in either direction. And it does seem as if the page is distinctly skewed to the Moroccan side, as I was able to, in only a quick click-through, dig up a lot of articles quoting those perennial "former Polisario officials" and even a third-generation reprint of the old Cuban child labour-indoctrination camp canard [pdf]. (Ahh, that seventies feel, when the Polisario were still closet Communists, whose massive sideburns, hip low-cut uniforms and Afro haircuts could not conceal that they were in reality mercenary Touareg led by Viet Cong extremists, East German robot commandoes and the ghost of Che Guevara. God, I don't know what the Moroccan news agency staff was smoking back then, but I sure hope they've saved some for me.)

Much of this seems to be either directly cut from MAP, or sloppy rewrites of their telegrams. There is nothing from the SPS and little if anything from the APS for balance; on the other hand, even compared to the Moroccans, APS is unreadable crap, and SPS is not far from it, although like MAP, it has the benefit of being a primary source of (heavily distorted) info. The APS is just snippets of pointless excerpts form other people's newsreels: that's something I figure Algeria might want to put an oil billion or two in, if it seriously aspires to win this conflict, or at the very least to make itself able to communicate with the rest of the world.

But back to topic. I did find a couple of other, original pieces on the Western Sahara which were perfectly well-reported, and quite interesting to read, but as I mentioned, standard Sahara material seems to be basically MAP regurgitations. I suppose this mix would broadly reflect the US government's perspective, so not really a surprise. But -- although they report on the conflict, it is mysteriously absent from the country information pages that they offer, perhaps in a bid to alienate neither Morocco nor Algeria. Western Sahara's only mention in the Morocco section is as being it's southern border. Fair enough, it is the army after all: don't ask, don't tell.

The link list also, rather hilariously, fails to link to the only two Moroccan papers that has any real audience outside of Morocco (meaning among people like me, not emigrant Moroccan circles), namely secularist/liberal favorites TelQuel and Le Journal. Even if their importance shouldn't be overstated, the omission of both their websites, while trusty old Le Matin is included, looks less as coincidence and more like policy. In the case of Algeria, on the other hand, the pro-state (not to mention state-run) papers are not linked, while critical and independent (so to speak) publications like El Khabar, Liberté and El Watan are all included.

* * *

Now ... now that I've been spending rather more time than I had planned on this page, signs that my first impression of real professionalism may have been off the mark are beginning to appear: according to a fawning factbox, M6 is known as "Mohammed Ben Al-Hasan", short form "Al-Hasan", which I'm sure is what his son "Moulay" calls him. Obviously this is why Iraq has descended into chaos: the Pentagon's whole MENA brain trust was re-tasked with running www.magharebia.com.

Oh well, so it's not quite all that first sight promised. But I'm sure it'll be of some use anyway, even if it may not immediately liberate the Maghreb. For something that will, I recommend readers to have a look at Bakchich instead.


UPDATE: Thanks to the rapid-reaction forces at USEUCOM, "Al-Hassan" (the third?) has now become "he", and the mysterious "Moulay" has been identified as crown prince "Moulay Al-Hassan". I knew all those .mil visitors were up to something.

And actually, so far, Western Sahara Info has its largest two readerships in Morocco and Arlington, Virginia. With my populist instincts telling me to play to the crowd, and also feeling a little bit guilty, I have to confess I've been reading Magharebia.com again since. And it is a pretty good resource. So, I'm sorry if I sounded harsh. Just please don't take me to Guantánamo.

Swedish journalist deported

A Swedish journalist, Lars Björk, who was sent by the country's main news agency (TT) to report on illegal immigration, was arrested in Morocco on Monday. He was picked up by a police van when photographing a group of Sahrawi children waving victory salutes and shouting pro-independence slogans in El Aaiún. After being interrogated at length on why he'd been "interfering in Moroccan internal affairs", he was threatened with prosecution under the country's antiterrorist legislation as a "Polisario spy". Then, in an abrupt about-turn late Tuesday evening, he set free and deported north towards Agadir -- across that fine line in the sand, that Morocco has spent the last 32 years trying to erase.

The reason? Probably that Morocco realizes it doesn't need more bad press on how badly it treats the press. Morocco has, under Muhammad VI, made great strides in press freedom. This came about after authorities eased up on the obsessive interference with reporting that had characterized Hassan's rule, but also as a result of a conscious and daring drive to push back the "red lines" by independent-minded and impressively brave journalists. Morocco's big three, the no-touch taboos of Monarchy, Islam and Sahara, remain without much critical debate -- but even there, spearhead opposition weeklies like Le Journal Hebdomadaire have managed to open a space for debate, at least in the margins of government policy.

Sadly, these last few months have been hard on the Moroccan press. Le Journal has been fined to near-bankruptcy, and its activist editor, Aboubakr Jamaï, forced out of his post. Another well-known French-language opposition weekly, TelQuel, has faced persistent harassment, and its Arabophone edition (El Nichane) was recently suspended for publishing "immoral" articles. Web censorship has intensified, with the state now striking blindly at blog hosters and others culpable of housing "separatist" material; a string of journalists have been deported from Western Sahara; Ali Lmrabet remains banned from writing; and the state takes ever opportunity to signal that the red lines are again creeping back into place.

In one analysis, perhaps this is only the inevitable ebb and flow of autocracy in a reforming state like Morocco. But in another view, the fact that, not all, but the great majority of the most egregious press freedom violations, are connected to the Sahara Question, again underlines how this issue remains a major stumbling-block for any serious reform attempt in Morocco. Whether Morocco eventually wins or loses in the Sahara, it will have to confront a reality that bears little resemblance to the shrill nationalist propaganda it has been feeding its people for some 30 years now. That might be a hard landing, psychologically as well as politically, as decades of corrupt management of the "Saharan file" will unwind under the pressures of open debate and democratization. But perhaps the status quo is even more debilitating, with a ruling class that sees the road forward blocked by international law, the road back blocked by its own militant rhetoric, and yet is steadily undermined in the present by this long, costly and demoralizing Saharan stalemate.

The blows to Moroccan press freedom as of late are in some ways a reflection of the Moroccan state's incapacity to break this reform deadlock -- but also, perhaps more so, they reveal a paranoid mindset among the state's rulers that helps explain why that deadlock exists in the first place.

Polisario sticks to referendum

The Polisario Front has presented a memorandum to the Security Council, laying out its response to the Moroccan autonomy overtures. The timing is probably intended to correspond to the present Moroccan tour of Western countries, so that reporters will have a fresh counter-proposal to refer to when reporting it. The memorandum repeats the movement's established positions, and doesn't bring anything really new to the table, but it has the advantage of collecting the Polisario's legal/diplomatic arguments against autonomy in a single document.

In itself, it is a powerful indictment of autonomy as a UN-backed solution, pointing to several reasons why substituting an autonomy for proper self-determination would blatantly contradict established international law, not to mention those resolutions that the UN has itself adopted since the sixties. But it brings little in the way of arguments against autonomy as such. This is in line with Polisario's main argument: that they don't oppose Morocco giving autonomy to any part of its country, since that is a wholly internal affair between the monarchy and the people -- but they do oppose Western Sahara being considered part of Morocco, for that or any other purpose.

Read it!

Sneak peeks

Moroccan diplomats are now all over the Western world to try to sell their autonomy proposal for Western Sahara, in the capitals that matter. First on the list was France, and both Moroccan and French official reactions made a point of Morocco chosing Paris (instead of Washington) as its first stop. Chirac, who has brought Morocco and France closer than ever on this issue, said he thought the plan was "constructive", but without commenting directly on what to do with it at the UN. In response to a predictable Polisario shock-and-dismay response, French officials made minor clarifications with no intention to clarify anything. As usual, both Moroccan and Polisario propaganda seems to read too much into the statements, each in their way. If anything, one would have expected a more enthusiastic French response, since France is jealously guarding its role as Morocco's best friend abroad, against increasing attempts by Washington to take primacy in the region. (Perhaps later comments about the importance of "territorial integrity" in Africa were intended to make up for that?)

Then came Spain, a slightly second-rank player in Western Sahara, not to mention in the Security Council, but important nevertheless. Foreign minister Moratinos "listened with interest" to the plan, but then had the poor taste to evoke the principle of self-determination.

Last but certainly not least of Western Sahara's big three was Washington. US officials "appreciated" the "promising" plan and made clear they are generally supportive of Morocco presenting autonomy as a compromise, but also said they want it presented on schedule (more below), and there were no hints that they would support its imposition over referendum plans.

All three of the main diplomatic supporters of Morocco have thus nodded some sort of encouragement to the plan, but also carefully guarded their step, and refused to commit themselves to it in any way. Possibly, especially in the case of Washington, that may be because it isn't official yet, nor fully completed. It can still be subject to radical change through putting in the right exemption clauses and other tricks, until a final version is on the table -- or, it can then be presented in such a way as to subtly alter the content. This lack of knowledge of course bothers neither Polisario nor Algeria, who have launched a series of preventive strikes, slamming it as a destructive "mirage"; nor does it trouble the Moroccan parties and press, who have predictably lined up to cheer it as a groundbreaking achievement without even knowing the basic outlines.

But in the Western pro-Moroccan capitals, reactions are more guarded. France has always been fully committed to Morocco, while the US and Spain (since the shift of government) are also generally pro-Moroccan, but most of all just interested in seeing the end of the dispute, and with no messy consequences. For them, that means the plan must be credible enough to sap the support of Polisario and so force it and Algeria to concessions -- because right now, Sahrawi support is clearly moving towards independence, with Polisario making important inroads in a number of the historically pro-Moroccan tribes (such as the Tekna Aït Oussa, which Polisario once wanted to bar from voting: today, its most famous member is pro-independence icon Ali Salem Tamek). That, in turn, means that all sides are now waiting for the final presentation, which Morocco has said will come in April, to see if it holds up to scrutiny. And then Morocco had better deliver, because with patience running out and Algeria a distinctly more attractive partner for Western states than it was ten years ago, Rabat may always not enjoy the support it presently does.

But wait, April? Yes, UNSC resolution 1720 set the date of April 30, 2007 as the new expiration date for Minurso. Chances are, then, that Morocco whips out its new plan on, say, April 25th, and leaves the Council no time to react, thus winning another six-month postponement. On the other hand, even the staunchest of Moroccan allies have voiced some irritation at the repeated delays in the Security Council, after Morocco started used this tactic again and again to wriggle free of SC action in the wake of the Baker Plan embarrassment. Is another April fool's joke coming up in 2007, or will this be it? The big plan? Either way, expect nothing but a new six-month extension for Minurso: all the importance lies between the lines in the Council's resolution, in what attitude it takes to the mission's final goal. As of today, and since 1991, it has been to keep the peace and to organize a referendum where the Sahrawis freely choose between Morocco and Polisario. How to change that after 15 years without coming off as a cheater?

Enemy of the State

Picture: if M6 is looking uncomfortable, it's because
daddy is calling his autonomy scheme illegal.

It's a good thing that Hassan II of Morocco is dead, because can you imagine the embarrassment it would cause his son, Muhammad VI, to have to put the old man in prison?

And he would. For you see, it turns out Hassan II was never the rock of steadfast patriotism that many Moroccans remember him as. He was actually quite the dangerous dissident. Had he been alive today, Le Matin du Sahara et du Maghreb would probably have fingered him as a Polisario member (and had it been yesterday, in his era, he'd have been branded a communist too, for good measure).

Because, here are the facts. We've been told that Moroccans (and the great powers) unanimously support the King's Masterful Plan to grant some sort of autonomy to his southern provinces, before the sovereignty dispute is settled, and then call that "self-determination". Right? And we all know that serious dissent by prominent people on this issue would land them, if not exactly in a shallow grave (that was more daddy's way of doing things), then quite probably in jail. Because that is the Polisario discourse right now: that Morocco has no right to grant autonomy over a territory it doesn't legally rule. Right?

Now, M6 is a liberal king, of sorts, but there are limits to his patience, especially after he had to wait for so long for his autonomy plan to come out of the CORCAS. (And now those ungrateful council member have the stomach to complain over the fact that they haven't even seen the plan they were supposedly drafting. Bedouins, I tell you.) Anyway, we probably agree that to side with Polisario and Algeria on the subject of the Big Plan, is simply a no-no. The King doesn't want to hear that kind of negativity from his own loyal subjects, what with Algeria and their Touareg-Cuban mercenaries in Tindouf (as feu Hassan would have put it) already whining about it in just about every international forum there is. He has other things to attend to.

But then consider these shocking statements, fresh out of Le Nouvel Observateur #1262, January 12-18, 1989, p. 46-48, from an interview by Jean Daniel with the King himself, titled "Hassan II s'explique". And yes, explique he does, to the absolute horror of every right-thinking Moroccan nationalist:

J. Daniel. - It is said that they [Polisario] would accept an internal autonomy to avoid the referendum.

Hassan II. - One cannot dispose of a thing one does not own. If I do not have the ownership of a territory that is, for the moment, in the care of the United Nations, then I do not dispose the power to legislate

J. Daniel. - You wouldn't trade the abandonment of the resort to the UN, for the granting of an internal autonomy?

Hassan II. - That is, quite simply, impossible. I have no right to do it. All decentralizing development must stem from a previously accepted Moroccanness [une marocanité préalable]. I have nothing to give to those people who refuse to be declared Moroccans.

[Translations from original by Western Sahara Info.]

Whoah. That's like straight out of the SPS. Or a law book. Or perhaps its just the old Moroccan common-sense negotiating position, the one the government signed into international law by agreeing to the Settlement Plan? But, of course, Moroccan policy from the nineties is pretty subversive too nowadays. Referendum and all. Actually, there's hardly anyone left to support Hassan's old positions except Polisario, who fought him for 16 years. And maybe that's saying something about how far this conflict has been allowed to spin out of its legal framework.

Poor Moroccans though. Here they believed for four decades that the man was a pillar of world peace, but then he turns out to have been just another devious, scheming mercenary terrorist evil-doer in the thrall of the Algerian generals ... et tu, Votre Majesté!

So how do you spell that?

Picture: Proponents of Spanish transliteration making their case.

With the Sahara conflict a war of words ever since the guns fell quiet in 1991, the combattants find ammunition in the most unlikely places. Take the name of Western Sahara's largest city, described by Polisario as its occupied capital.

All sides of course agree on the Arabic name: العيون [al-`uyûn]. That's a plural of the Arabic's عين [`ayn], which, poetically enough, can mean either "eye" or "pond", and, as is the rule in Arabic, a number of other things too. It of course stands for the local oasis and watering hole.

But now comes the tricky part. How to write it in Latin letters? The throatily guttural `ayn [ ` ] sound of Arabic -- yeah, same word again -- doesn't even exist in European languages. Many settle for using a double "a" instead. Like the Spanish: "El Aaiún", with the accent signifying the long end "ouuu" vowel. That's the spelling that was used in the, yeah, Spanish Sahara, in the years between 1884 and 1975. It thus holds the advantage of being the spelling historically established by the colonial power.

On the other hand, the French variant, "Laâyoune", may actually correspond better to the actual local pronounciation, given how the Sahrawis' Hassaniya Arabic, like all Maghrebi accents, tends to shed initial vowels. But now, the French weren't the colonial power in Western Sahara, were they? So why would anyone want to use a French transliteration -- when not writing in French?

And here's where it gets political: Morocco's identity was strongly shaped by French colonization, and the French language remains strong today. For that reason, Laâyoune wins out. And while no-one disputes that Western Sahara was once under Spanish rule, might not it also be a bit sensitive to stress the things that sets this territory apart from Morocco? Either way, the kingdom officially prefers Laâyoune. And Polisario, having made the exact same political analysis, and working hard to preserve Spanish as a cultural heritage among Sahrawis in Tindouf, goes with the Spanish El Aaiún in its English-language texts. And from there on, it's all politics -- even if both sides tends to lose the accent marks ( ´ and ^ ) out of pure laziness.

Lastly, we must not forget poor Algeria. This country is on the one hand the main backer of Polisario, and has completely adopted (some would say also, formed) its discourse. But on the other hand, it was thoroughly colonized by the French -- for a whopping 132 years, no less, leaving it with some serious cultural issues and a penchant for soul-searching identity politics. Since much of its press is French-language, what to do with the Sahrawi capital? A quick google through the archives of El-Moudjahid -- a dreary, state-run rag with few readers apart from government ministers who like to see their own pictures -- suggests that its journalists either do not care, or have been looking for compromises: "El Ayoune" and several other variants. A scientific examination of their archives provide the following scores, via Google:

• El Ayoun: thirty-five hits
• El Ayoune: sixteen hits.
• El Aaiún: zero hits.
  
• Laâyoune: two hits.
• Laâyoun: zero hits.
  

Now there's something for Maghreb kremlinologists to chew on. In the meantime, this blog will go with El Aaiún, for the simple reason that it is what the Spanish left us with. But don't expect consistency.

Mauritanian elections and W. Sahara

Since the coup d'êtat in August 2005, the Mauritanian political system has changed profoundly. A constitutional referendum has set limits on the president's terms (but also left him to exercise overwhelming powers), and parliamentary and municipal elections have been held -- not completely without irregularities, but freely and fairly enough to be groundbreaking for Mauritania and, indeed, for the Maghreb region. During the transition phase, power has been in the hands of a junta, the Comité militaire pour la justice et la démocratie (CMJD), headed by a certain col. Ely Ould Mohamed Vall, a former strongman under ousted president Mouaouiya Ould Taya. Presidential elections, the grand prize, are now scheduled for March 11, and a full 20 candidates had reported for the race as registration closed in february. What implications does this hold for Western Sahara?

The easy answer is, very few. Mauritania is politically sandwiched between Morocco and Algeria, with no escape route through either dirt-poor Mali to the east, or hostile Senegal to the south, which takes exception to the Mauritanian state's deeply racist attitude to its black citizens. A profoundly weak state, with just above three million inhabitants and no army to speak of, and completely preoccupied with its own internal fissures, Mauritania is in no position to anger either of its powerful northern neighbours. It also holds a particular fear, still today, of Morocco, which refused to recognize its independence until 1969, and even set up a minister for "Mauritanian affairs" to underline that the country is in reality nothing but a stray Moroccan province. The Polisario Front also plays a powerful role, even without its Algerian backer, as it has an important presence on Mauritanian soil. This is mainly in the Zouerate region, where the UN counts some 25,000 Sahrawi refugees (many of them having left the Tindouf camps for better conditions and work in Mauritania), and an untold number of other sympathizers among fraternal tribes.

What history teaches

The last time Mauritania tried to take sides in the conflict, at its inception in 1975, the results were disastrous. The country's economy and social order crumbled under Polisario attacks as Mauritania tried to annex the southern third of the former Spanish Sahara as a new province, the "Tiris El Gharbiya". The decision was taken with Moroccan backing, but equally much in a panicked attempt to stave off Moroccan expansionism.

In 1978, the regime fell, to be replaced by a squabbling bunch of colonels from the northern tribes who had been particularly angered by the governments decision to invade Western Sahara. The upsurge of tribalism that this brought, has plagued Mauritania ever since - not that tribalism wasn't a major problem before, of course. Equally seriously, king Hassan II of Morocco lashed out like a betrayed lover at Mauritania as it pulled out of combat, spinning a series of plots to overthrow the regime and massing troops at its border. Mauritania dropped straight into the arms of Algeria, and the junta leader in charge from 1979, Mohamed Khouna Ould Heidallah, began taking plenty of arms and advice from Algiers to secure his regime. His relations with Polisario were excellent -- he's born in Western Sahara himself -- and in 1984 he acted upon the OAU's decision to let the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic take up membership, and decided to recognize it as Western Sahara's rightful government. Relations with Morocco got no better for that, and within his own junta, pro-Moroccan tendencies combined with other disgruntled military men -- all of whom had been gradually pushed out of power by Heidallah -- to stage a revolt.

The 1984 coup that brought Ould Taya to power meant an improvement in relations with Morocco, and that Mauritania gradually found a balance between Rabat and Algiers, all the while allowing Polisario to remain in the country under the 1979 understanding, and retaining its recognition of the SADR. Relations were more fully healed recently, and they are now quite good. Mauritania's statements to the UN (it is acknowledged, along with Algeria and the African Union, as an "interested third party" to the conflict and accorded observer status in the proceedings) during the twists and turns of the referendum process has said only one thing: we hope for progress and will accept any solution that is acceptable to both parties. The general public seems content with the compromise that has been struck, knowing that any attempt to again shift the balance could easily result in severe pressures from the wounded party, not to mention internal tribal unrest, considering the close relations of some Mauritanian tribes to Morocco, on the one hand, and the virtual membership in Polisario of others.

So, the presidential election is unlikely to change much, since Mauritania's strategic position hasn't changed. The improved relations with Morocco are partially offset by Algiers rise to economic superpower status through exploding oil prices, and Mauritania's need for assistance in combatting cross-border raids by the Algeria-based al-Qaida/GSPC movement. Thus, it is unlikely that Mauritania would by itself seek another position on the matter, but it may still succumb to pressures from either party, or indeed from the West.

Some notable candidates

In the present political situation, however, a few characters deserve mention. First of course, is the former pro-Polisario president, Mohamed Khouna Ould Heidallah, who is now again campaigning for the presidency, on a nationalist-islamist platform. He came second in the 2003 elections (picture), under Ould Taya, and took much heat in opposition to the regime after being let out of jail. His time in power is not fondly remembered by anyone -- it was one of chaos, coups, war and economic disaster -- but he is seen as personally honest and committed to his nation; additionally, some from the black minorities has a soft spot for him, after he made the first and only honest attempt in Mauritaina to ban slavery in 1981. He is strongly supported by various northern nomadic tribes and by some Islamists, who remember him instituting shari'a law when in power (it was later repealed by Ould Taya). Still, today Heidallah is a distinctly second-rate contender, who will not stand a good chance at moving to the second round of elections unless he manages to stitch together a coalition with a little help from the powers that be.

Among the more likely victors, "Sidioca", for Sidi Ould Cheikh Abdellahi, is running for the al-Mithaq, a very strong coalition of former Ould Taya cronies, independents and others with a stake in preserving the pre-coup status quo. He's also accused of running with the tacit support of the CMJD, which one must not forget is itself a product of the former regime. His positions on Western Sahara aren't known, but the odds are they will reflect whatever former regime components and tribal alliances he will ultimately base his rule on after an election win -- and that's true for all contestants, by the way. Also, the half-brother of former president Mokhtar Ould Daddah (who invaded Western Sahara in 1975), is also a good guess for next president. Ahmed Ould Daddah has spent the nineties in opposition to Taya's regime (he himself lost all privilege along with the overthrow of his family), and has his strongest support among tribes of the Trarza area, historically the site of a once pro-Moroccan emirate just south of Western Sahara.

And what if there is no change of power?

Last but not least, the divided political field in Mauritania means that members of the ruling junta may well continue to exercise a powerful influence after stepping down from their posts; especially since its membership comes straight from the heart of the Taya-era security establishment, and may want to manipulate elections to bar too far-reaching changes (which could threaten the position of them and their tribal and factional entourage). So far, while in power, they have played the balancing act well, and taken no initiatives whatsoever in the Western Sahara conflict; they have dispatched envoys equally to Morocco, Polisario and Algeria, to reassure all sides of their continued neutrality. But with tribalism always the major determinant in Mauritanian politics, col. Ely's tribal background may well count for something: he's from the Bou Sbaa tribe, originally present in all three of Mauritania, Western Sahara and Morocco, but historically also with some pro-Moroccan leanings, and once badly victimized by the powerful Reguibat tribe (later a mainstay of Polisario) in the early 1900s.

Will that matter? Depends on how much of a sham the Mauritanian revolution will turn out to be: if the process ultimately proves to be cosmetic (with, say, Abdellahi taking the presidency and col. Vall & Co remaining a force behind the scenes à l'Algérie), then maybe. If they turn out to produce genuine political change, then certainly not. But genuine political change, of course, also means that long-held convictions will have to be tested again, and that populist rhetoric, not to mention elected politicians vying for foreign support to best their rivals, and it may thus be the most powerful propellant for change in Mauritania's relation to the Sahara question. But in what way? Among the Moorish tribes of the Mauritania/Sahara/Morocco areas, alliances have always been temporary affairs to secure power and protection, and the most firmly held convictions could easily turn into the opposite opinion overnight. That was the way to survive, and in the Mauritanian political climate it still holds much truth. But in this particular case, the fundamental vulnerability of the Mauritanian state will ultimately provide a powerful incentive against change or radicalization in either direction.