Article written in 2019, revised and expanded in 2026.

The Green March of 1975: a few key facts

Following Morocco’s independence in 1956, the Kingdom continued the process of recovering territories that had remained under Spanish administration. Tarfaya was reintegrated into Morocco in 1958, followed by Sidi Ifni in 1969. The question of Western Sahara, which was still administered by Spain, nevertheless remained unresolved within the wider process of decolonisation.

Morocco brought its claims before international institutions and asked the International Court of Justice to rule on the ties that had existed between the territory and the Kingdom before Spanish colonisation.

In its advisory opinion delivered on 16 October 1975, the Court recognised the existence of legal ties of allegiance between the Sultan of Morocco and some of the tribes of Western Sahara.

It nevertheless concluded that the evidence examined did not establish a territorial sovereignty of such a nature as to prevent the application of the principle of self-determination.

In the hours that followed, King Hassan II announced the organisation of a peaceful march towards the Sahara. Its departure was set for 6 November 1975. According to Morocco’s official chronology, 350,000 volunteers, including 35,000 women, took part in the Green March.

The appeal prompted a remarkable mobilisation. In cities, villages and rural communities, men and women registered to join the delegations formed in every province.

In Ouarzazate, as elsewhere, many felt that history had suddenly summoned them.

In Ouarzazate, the call to join the Green March

The provinces of southeast Morocco were widely represented. Participants from Ouarzazate, Errachidia, Tinghir and Zagora joined the other provincial delegations travelling south.

Mouloud Jghou, Abderrahmane Moussa and Fatoma Ghouate, all three from Ouarzazate, were among them. Decades later, each retained deeply personal memories of the days during which the Green March was being prepared.

Abderrahmane Moussa was 25 years old in 1975. He was working as a tour guide at the time. He remembers a genuine collective fever taking hold of Ouarzazate: conversations, registrations and preparations all seemed to revolve around a single idea—taking part in the March. He registered as a volunteer and joined the provincial delegation.

Mouloud Jghou was living in France at the time. The preparations were being reported in the press and on radio and television. Like many Moroccans living abroad, he initially followed the event from a distance. But the emotion stirred by the announcement of the March was so powerful that he decided to return to Morocco and register as a participant as soon as he arrived.

Fatoma Ghouate, who was born in the Kasbah of Taourirte, also answered the call. Her decision was not the result of long reflection. She remembers being carried by the momentum of the moment and by the conviction that she should take part, alongside the men, in an event that was mobilising the entire country.

Delegations from across Morocco

Participants were grouped according to their province of origin. Each delegation was identified by a letter: the Errachidia delegation carried the letter A, while Ouarzazate carried the letter B, according to the memories of the three witnesses.

This organisation gave the Green March its distinctive form. The movement did not begin in one single place. It emerged simultaneously in every region of the country.

Groups formed in cities, oases, valleys and rural communities. They then joined the main roads before gradually merging into a much larger whole. Like streams flowing down from territories far removed from one another, the delegations converged on the south until they formed a single human river.

The volunteers from Ouarzazate therefore set off in their own convoy, with their own leaders, organisation and identifying symbol

From Ouarzazate to Tarfaya: the convoys’ journey

The convoys from Ouarzazate and Errachidia travelled through Agadir, Tiznit and Guelmim before continuing towards Tarfaya. To prevent congestion, several hours separated the passage of the different groups.

The trucks stopped regularly outside towns and villages. Throughout the journey, local inhabitants gathered along the roads to greet the participants. Fatoma particularly remembers the crowds cheering the convoys and sometimes sharing part of their provisions with the marchers.

As the trucks moved forward, the landscapes changed and the distances grew longer. But the journey itself had already become part of the event. The songs, flags and gatherings encountered in every locality gave participants the feeling that they were being carried forward by a mobilisation extending far beyond their own delegation.

Tarfaya was the final major stage before the border. A vast network of camps had been established around the town to receive the volunteers arriving from every part of Morocco.

According to the witnesses, the camp allocated to the province of Ouarzazate stood beside the ocean, approximately seven kilometres from the centre of Tarfaya. The Royal Armed Forces and the civilian administration had established an organisation there to receive, supply and supervise the participants.

Life in the Tarfaya camp

The volunteers were divided into sections, each placed under the responsibility of one participant. Mouloud Jghou was put in charge of a group of 114 people from the province of Ouarzazate.

He had to keep the list of members up to date, organise the distribution of supplies and respond to the everyday needs of his section. In his memory, provisions were shared without difficulty and everyone contributed, in their own way, to the life of the group.

Abderrahmane also recalls the importance of the supplies: water, bread, vegetables, fish and dates were transported to the camps. He remembers military aircraft sometimes dropping sacks of bread over the camp.

Fatoma describes a collective life that quickly took shape beneath the tents. The women built traditional earthen ovens in which to bake bread. She would go out to gather firewood and sometimes returned with meat and dates given to her by Moroccan soldiers.

She remembers with amusement that she ate a great deal during her stay and gained a noticeable amount of weight. Behind the immense scale of the national mobilisation, her account reveals a very concrete reality: gathering wood, preparing meals, baking bread and sharing provisions.

As the days passed, the camp became a temporary city. Groups arriving from different regions brought their own songs, dances and traditions with them. Amazighs, Arabs and Sahrawis came together in shared celebrations in which every delegation revealed something of its home territory.

For the three witnesses, the Green March was therefore not only a movement towards a border. It was also the experience of an immense community, made up of people who did not know one another but were learning to live, wait and act together.

On 6 November 1975, marching towards the border

On the evening of 5 November, King Hassan II addressed the participants gathered in the south, as well as the Moroccan population as a whole:

The following day, the delegations left their camps and advanced towards Tah and the border. The participants marched without weapons, carrying Moroccan flags and copies of the Quran.

From this point onwards, the three testimonies become particularly valuable. They do not offer a detached overview of the event, but reveal what each person saw, heard or felt from within the crowd.

In Abderrahmane’s memory, Ouarzazate moves to the front

Abderrahmane brings back to life some of the moments he experienced in the camp:

Abderrahmane remembers that the Errachidia convoy was initially positioned ahead of the Ouarzazate convoy. Detonations heard in the distance reportedly caused the marchers at the front to hesitate, as they feared that the Spanish forces were firing at them.

According to his account, the Ouarzazate delegation then moved past them and took the lead, followed by the delegation from Kenitra. Its members advanced towards the barbed wire marking the border and were among the first to cross it.

This remains the memory of a participant who stood at the heart of the movement. It should be received as such: not as a military or administrative report, but as the direct memory of a man carried forward, alongside the others, by the intensity of the moment.

Tamimounte, a woman remembered by the marchers

Abderrahmane also associates this moment with the name of a woman from the Ouarzazate delegation: Fadma Mohamed Taberhout, known as Tamimounte, whom he remembers as coming from the village of Iguernane.

In his memory, the woman, then in her forties, climbed a structure near the border and replaced a Spanish flag with the Moroccan flag.

As he tells it, her action expressed the exhilaration driving the marchers and the desire of each participant to stand at the forefront. The memory of Tamimounte is one of the most singular fragments of his testimony. Her identity, her life and her role would now deserve a dedicated investigation, comparing this memory with the accounts of her family and any surviving archives.

Mouloud remembers the soldiers on the hills

Mouloud remembers walking for approximately fourteen kilometres through the border area. He recalls seeing Spanish soldiers and military vehicles on the higher ground, although no direct confrontation took place.

Mouloud estimates that he remained in the area for seven or eight days. As is often the case with accounts recorded several decades after an event, the exact duration and sequence of the different stages would need to be compared with archival records.

This chronological uncertainty does not diminish the value of his memory: that of a long wait beyond the barbed wire, in an area under the surveillance of the Spanish forces.

Fatoma remembers women marching alongside the men

Fatoma emphasises the presence of women at the forefront of the March. They advanced and crossed the border alongside the men, sharing the same conditions and uncertainties.

She particularly remembers the nights, when lights and explosions would suddenly illuminate a vast part of the sky. She describes them as fireworks launched by the Spanish soldiers. Their appearance sometimes caused fear among the participants.

One such incident is said to have caused a pregnant marcher to go into labour. According to Fatoma, the woman named her son Massir, derived from massira, the Arabic word for “march”.

Like the story of Tamimounte, this birth belongs to the parallel memory of major historical events: a memory made up of names, gestures and individual destinies that official accounts do not always preserve.

After crossing the barbed wire and reaching the place assigned to them, the participants reportedly gathered to pray and give thanks to God.

Three voices from the Green March preserved on video

Mouloud Jghou, Abderrahmane Moussa and Fatoma Ghouate do not describe exactly the same Green March. Each has preserved their own images of the event.

Mouloud remembers his hurried return from France, his responsibility for a section of marchers and the advance beyond the barbed wire. Abderrahmane recalls the feverish preparations in Ouarzazate, the movement of the convoys and the act attributed to Tamimounte. Fatoma remembers the inhabitants lining the roads, the ovens built in the camp, the provisions that were shared and the women marching alongside the men.

Their memories nevertheless come together in their evocation of a collective movement of exceptional scale. Behind the figure of 350,000 participants lie just as many personal experiences, many of which have only ever been passed down within families.

The video produced by Sudestmaroc.com allows us to rediscover the voices, faces and intonations of the three witnesses. It is not merely an illustration accompanying the article: it is its central archive.

These three residents of Ouarzazate took part in an event that became a major chapter in Morocco’s contemporary history. By recording their words, the purpose is not only to commemorate the Green March, but also to preserve what sweeping historical narratives sometimes allow to disappear: the tangible memories of the women and men who lived through them.

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The name of the Glaoua once echoed across the mountains and valleys of south-eastern Morocco. Although that echo has now largely faded, it remains deeply embedded in the collective memory of these territories and permanently inscribed in the history of the country.

The Glaoua are an Amazigh tribe established around Telouet, on the southern slopes of the High Atlas. Their ruling lineage, the El Mezouari El Glaoui, lived in a modest kasbah sometimes known as the “little sparrow’s nest”. According to local tradition, the small bird was associated with providence and regarded as a sign of good fortune.

Yet this modest bird’s nest would eventually be transformed into an eagle’s eyrie.

From the second half of the 19th century onwards, the El Glaoui family embarked upon a long and arduous ascent towards power and wealth. From one generation to the next, its representatives established themselves as powerful servants of the Makhzen, Morocco’s system of government in which the central authority delegated extensive powers to provincial governors known as caïds.

In the case of the El Glaoui clan, this delegation of authority would eventually reach extraordinary proportions. Over the years, its leading members became known as the Lords of the Atlas. In times of peace as in times of war, the caïds of the Glaoua, like the heads of several other great caïdal families, became powerful masters who exercised authority over vast territories and the people who inhabited them.

The caïd: between Makhzen representative and tribal chief

The term Makhzen has carried different meanings according to the period. It may refer to the Sultan’s government, but also, more broadly, to the system through which authority was exercised over a country long composed of tribes and territories fiercely attached to their autonomy.

The word Makhzen derives from the Arabic مخزن, makhzan, meaning a place of storage or a storehouse, from the verb خزن, khazana, “to store”. The English word magazine ultimately shares the same Arabic origin.

The term originally referred to the place where a village community stored its food supplies. From the 17th century onwards, it came to designate the Treasury—the place where taxes were collected—and, by extension, those responsible for administering it. Over time, the name was applied to the entire governmental apparatus serving the Sultan.

The Sultan was regarded as Amir al-Mu’minin, the Commander of the Faithful. Around him, the Makhzen was organised through a central government composed of viziers, or ministers, and numerous officials recruited from sharifian families claiming descent from the Prophet, as well as from families of scholars, merchants and warriors.

These officials were responsible for maintaining order, collecting taxes and acting as arbiters, particularly in disputes involving land and property.

In rural areas, authority was generally entrusted to a caïd appointed by the Sultan and assisted by a khalifa and several sheikhs.

The caïds received extensive powers from the central government. In practice, however, the Makhzen’s direct political, military and fiscal authority varied considerably from one region to another.

Moroccan history is often described through the opposition between the Bled el-Makhzen, the territories where the Sultan’s government exercised effective authority, and the Bled es-Siba, where tribes retained a greater degree of political and military autonomy.

This distinction should not be understood as a rigid division between an organised state and a “land of anarchy”. In many mountain and rural regions, the Sultan’s power was negotiated, intermittent or exercised through alliances, while his religious legitimacy and his role as an arbiter could still be recognised.

The expression Bled es-Siba, widely employed and simplified by French colonial historiography, therefore describes a far more complex political reality than the frequently used translation “land of anarchy” would suggest.

This situation often led the Sultans to appoint as caïd a man who already possessed recognised authority among the population concerned—generally the head of the dominant tribe.

Some caïds acquired immense power in the history of the country. Many fought against one another, while an even greater number made the accumulation of wealth their principal concern.

The Caïd the word derives from the Arabic قائد, qāʾid, meaning “commander”. In Morocco, it referred to a local governor appointed by the Sultan who could combine administrative, fiscal, judicial and military powers, while sometimes also serving as the leader of his own tribe.

Telouet, a meeting place and strategic centre of trade

A large part of the High Atlas once belonged to the regions where the Makhzen’s direct authority remained limited or depended upon alliances with local powers.

The immense Atlas mountain chain created a formidable natural barrier between Morocco’s imperial cities in the north and the pre-Saharan regions to the south—a world of mountains, valleys, rocky plateaux, oases and desert dunes. These vast territories had been inhabited for centuries by Amazigh communities.

On the southern side of the High Atlas, at an altitude of approximately 1,870 metres, lies the small village of Telouet.

Its position made it strategically important. For centuries, commercial caravans crossed the mountains through the Telouet Pass, known as Tizi n’Telouet or Tizi n’Glaoua, at an altitude of around 2,400 metres.

The route through the Telouet Pass may already have formed an important crossroads during the Phoenician and Punic periods. It was known to merchants, geographers and travellers as the Gate of Deren, or the Gate of the Atlas.

The pass provided one of the principal routes between northern Morocco and the territories of the Drâa, Tafilalet, Dadès and Todgha, continuing towards the distant Bilad al-Sudan, the historic Arabic name given to the lands south of the Sahara.

Telouet was therefore not merely an isolated mountain village. It was a place of passage, exchange and commerce, where populations and political ambitions met.

Punic: the adjective describes what relates to the ancient Carthaginians. It derives from the Latin punicus or poenicus, itself derived from Poenus, meaning “Carthaginian”, and ultimately from the Greek Phoînix, which could refer to both the Phoenicians and the Carthaginians.

Read also : Telouet: Cradle and Stronghold of the Lords of the Atlas

The first steps of an Atlas tribe

The Glaoua—Igliwa in Amazigh—are a sedentary Amazigh tribe belonging to the Tachelhit-speaking area. Their historic territory extends across both sides of the main High Atlas ridge, particularly around Telouet, the Rdat Valley and the Asif Mellah.

The populations of this part of the High Atlas have been associated, according to different historical classifications, with the great Masmouda and Sanhaja Amazigh groupings. These affiliations should nevertheless be understood within a long history shaped by alliances, migrations and tribal recompositions.

The ruling lineage of the tribe was known as El Mezouari. The name derives from the Amazigh term amezwaru, meaning “the first”, the one who goes before, or the person who leads a particular function or community.

The El Glaoui had long been regarded as a Makhzen family serving the Alaouite dynasty, at least since the reign of Sultan Moulay Ismail, who ruled Morocco from 1672 to 1727.

One of their earliest ancestors mentioned in historical accounts was a man named Abdessadek. At that time, however, the lineage possessed neither great fame nor exceptional power.

It was not until the first half of the 19th century that the family’s ascent towards power began.

The first step was taken by Hammou Amezouar El Glaoui, better known by the Arabic name Ahmed. His people appointed him amghar, or sheikh, making him the leader of the tribe around Telouet.

At the time, however, Telouet remained under the authority of the powerful caïd El Hachemi Zemrani of Demnate.

El Hachemi Zemrani belonged to a lineage associated with the Banu Maqil and originated from the douar of Zemrane, north-east of Marrakech. As a Makhzen caïd, he claimed longstanding authority over several High Atlas tribes, including the Glaoua, Ghoujdama and Fetouaka. His influence extended as far as the Dadès Valley.

The Banu Maqil were Arab tribal groups that entered the Maghreb during the medieval period. Their different branches gradually spread across southern Algeria, Mauritania, Western Sahara and Morocco.

The modest Sheikh Ahmed married the daughter of another tribal leader, Ahmed Ben El Haj Mohamed, from the neighbouring village of Taghennouste. The marriage improved his social position, but it was above all Telouet’s strategic location that enabled him to increase his influence.

He was able to offer shelter, protection and security to the camel caravans travelling through the mountains.

In exchange for this protection, he required merchants to pay passage dues, providing him with a regular source of income. His position was further strengthened by the exploitation of a salt mine discovered at Adouz, near Telouet.

Ahmed’s increasingly prosperous activities soon caused concern to his father-in-law, Ahmed Ben El Haj, and provided his enemies within the clan with a pretext to drive him out of Telouet.

He sought refuge among the Aït Ounila, a neighbouring tribe traditionally hostile to his own people. Amghar Ahmed died during this forced exile in 1855.

The conquering pride of the chief of Telouet

During this exile on the banks of the Ounila River, Amghar Ahmed’s son was born.

He was named Mohamed Ben Hammou and grew up with a fierce determination to avenge the humiliation inflicted upon his father and reclaim the leadership of the tribe in the family stronghold of Telouet.

Mohamed Ben Hammou was a man of small stature. He therefore received the nickname Ibibet, the name of a small bird commonly translated here as “the little sparrow”.

Despite the apparent gentleness of this nickname, the young Mohamed became a determined war leader only a few years after his father’s death.

In 1858, he led an attack against the hamlet of Taghennouste. During the battle of Tighoufar Aït Rbaâ, his grandfather, Sheikh Ahmed Ben El Haj, was killed.

The fearless young chief believed he could now begin extending his power south of the Atlas. Once again, however, his ambitions came up against the powerful caïd of Demnate.

Mohamed Ibibet’s ambition was nothing less than to unite the different components of the Glaoua tribe beneath a single banner and transform them into a major power in the High Atlas and beyond, following the example of the great caïdal families of the Mtougui and the Goundafa.

The Goundafa, known in Amazigh as the Ignifissen, formed a group of tribes established along the N’Fiss Valley in the High Atlas.

Long attached to their autonomy in the face of the Sultan’s authority, they would enter the Makhzen network during the final decades of the 19th century. Their leader, Si Ahmed, pledged allegiance to Sultan Moulay Hassan I, who appointed him caïd.

Following his death in 1885, his son Si Tayyeb Goundafi inherited the position and extended the family’s influence from the Haouz plain to the Souss.

The final steps before victory

Caught between these powerful caïds, Amghar Mohamed Ibibet nevertheless succeeded in attracting the attention of the central government, which was always eager to use tribal rivalries to preserve its own authority.

His audacity and determination in confronting his enemies made him a potential ally in the region.

Sultan Moulay Abderrahmane Ben Hicham, who ruled Morocco from 1822 to 1859, appointed him Amghar n’Ufella, or supreme sheikh, over the tribes of Aït Telouet, Aït Ounila and Aït Tammante.

The supreme sheikh had little time to enjoy a title that seemed to fulfil his most intimate ambition.

Like his father Ahmed before him, he faced the fierce hostility of the Zemrani clan of Demnate. Following the death of El Hachemi Zemrani in 1858, his brother Omar succeeded him and made every effort to damage the reputation of his rival in Telouet and bring an end to his growing power.

Omar Zemrani persuaded the Sultan that Mohamed Ibibet was plotting against the sharifian government. He received authorisation to arrest him and bring him to trial.

But the little sparrow’s good fortune—and political instinct—had not deserted him.

The Sultan died in 1859, and Mohamed Ibibet immediately travelled to Marrakech to attend the ceremony of allegiance to the new sovereign, Moulay Mohammed Ben Abderrahmane, who would rule Morocco until 1873 and later become known as Mohammed IV.

During the ceremony, Sidi Boubker Ben Ali Ennaciri, the sheikh of the highly influential Nasiriyya zaouia of Tamegroute, completed the chief of Telouet’s strategy by interceding with the new Sultan on his behalf.

The Sultan decided to pardon Amghar Mohamed El Glaoui. In 1864, he raised him to the rank of Makhzen caïd and placed the tribes of the Aït Ouaouzguite confederation under his command.

Mohamed Ibibet’s hour of glory had arrived.

He used his new position to build a kasbah beside the older stronghold in Telouet. He then embarked upon a policy of expansion towards south-eastern Morocco.

His first major objective was to take control of the Kasbah of Taourirt, in present-day Ouarzazate. Like Telouet, Taourirt occupied a strategic position from which the caravan routes of the South could be controlled.

To achieve this, Mohamed formed alliances with the leaders of several tribes around Ouarzazate. In 1877, he succeeded in taking Taourirt and drove out Sheikh Mohamed Ben Abdellah.

This important conquest gave him control over commercial activity at another major crossroads. From Taourirt, routes led towards the Drâa Valley and the great oasis of Skoura, as well as towards the Dadès and Todgha valleys.

Amghar Mohamed Ibibet then attempted to use Taourirt’s central position to fight the tribes of the South that resisted the Makhzen, including that of his longstanding rival, the powerful Amghar Mohamed Zanifi of Tazenakht.

Proud of his recent promotion to the rank of Makhzen caïd, he set himself the ambition of bringing the independent tribes of the South under the Sultan’s authority.

This undertaking anticipated, in an entirely different context and on a far greater scale, the campaign that French colonial forces would pursue several decades later under the name of “pacification”.

The sparrow’s interrupted flight

The ambition proved too great for a small sparrow that already imagined itself an eagle.

Mohamed Ben Hammou El Glaoui made the mistake of overestimating his strength. Above all, he attempted to move faster than the political realities of late 19th-century Morocco would allow, at a time when tribal pride and competing ambitions remained exceptionally powerful.

His campaigns required considerable financial resources. He believed he could impose heavy charges and new levies upon the other tribes of the Aït Ouaouzguite confederation, as well as upon the Aït Zineb and the inhabitants of Tikirt, Ikhzamen and Ouarzazate.

These demands provoked the indignation of their leaders.

They quickly joined together in a coalition known as the Allies of Tagouzoult. Local tradition associates the name Tagouzoult with the idea of courage or bravery.

Their objective was to restrain the excesses of the chief of the small mountain settlement of Telouet.

Unable to defeat the forces united against him, Mohamed Ibibet abandoned his campaign and withdrew to his stronghold.

He now considered it wiser to consolidate his commercial activities in the High Atlas.

He revived the Monday souk at Ighil n’Oubiane, which had originally been established by his father.

He also built a new caravanserai to strengthen his control over caravans arriving from the Tizi n’Telouet Pass. A second market was established on Thursdays at Zrekten, together with another caravanserai.

From his small village beneath the immense mountains, Amghar Mohamed Ben Hammou El Glaoui—Ibibet—had surrendered himself to the dream of the Atlas.

He had imagined that the name of his clan, the name of the Glaoua, might one day command the countless tribes of Morocco.

Destiny decided otherwise and compelled him to be patient.

Yet the destiny of the Glaoua was like an Amazigh carpet whose splendour emerged thread by thread.

Just as Mohamed Ben Hammou had sought to restore the pride of his own father, Sheikh Ahmed, and raise the family name still higher, his dream of power would be inherited by two sons of an entirely different stature: the elder, Madani, and the younger, Thami.

At his death, Mohamed left his eldest son, Madani El Mezouari El Glaoui, an established authority and a considerable fortune.

This inheritance would enable Madani to rise to the highest levels of the Makhzen and eventually obtain the most prestigious office available: that of Grand Vizier to the Sultan.

In the heart of his younger son, Thami El Mezouari El Glaoui, Mohamed also planted the seed of the ambition he had carried within him from the beginning.

It held the promise that one day, at last, the sparrow would become an eagle.

Read also : The lost destiny of Jews from South East Morocco

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The first inhabitants of Telouet were Berber pastoralists who lived in caves carved into the sides of the surrounding mountains. Over time, Telouet became a crossroads of peoples and cultures. Jewish communities settled here early on, becoming chiefly wholesalers of salt and skilled artisans. During the medieval period, Arabs arrived with the wave of Islamisation that spread across Morocco. They founded medersas (Qur’anic schools) and zaouias dedicated to the teaching of Islamic theology. Renowned marabouts such as Sidi Ouarghal, Sidi Ouissaâden and Sidi Daoud established themselves in the region.

As for the dark-skinned population known as the Haratine, they were originally composed of enslaved people brought from Mali, Guinea, Sudan, and other regions of sub-Saharan Africa, transported north along the trans-Saharan caravan routes as far as Telouet and other inland territories.

Telouet was once an essential passage for the great caravan routes that crossed the Atlas via the Telouet Pass, Tizi n’Telouet. It was also a strategic stopover for military expeditions, including the campaign led by Ahmed al-Mansur al-Dahabi towards Sudan in 1590.

From the 17th century onwards, the arrival of the Glaoua family marked a turning point in the history of Telouet. According to some sources, the family descended from a marabout named Mohamed Ou Saleh, originally from the region of Asfi and said to be of Umayyad lineage. Upon settling in Telouet, the Glaoua established a zaouia and distributed indulgences and blessings—baraka—inherited from their saintly ancestor. Religious influence soon fostered political ambition.

In the 18th century, Sultan Moulay Ismail granted the title of caïd to the Glaoua, entrusting them with control over the caravan route and the collection of passage dues. Later, in 1893, Sultan Moulay El Hassan (Hassan I) led a military expedition, a harka, to subdue rebellious tribes of the Bled es-Siba. On their return, the Sultan and his army were caught in heavy snow in Telouet. El Madani El Glaoui organised a grand diffa—a ceremonial reception—in their honour.

In gratitude, the Sultan granted El Madani the right to levy taxes on surrounding tribes and to collect customs from caravans. He also gifted him arms, including a German Krupp cannon, which is still displayed today in the Kasbah of Taourirt.

In 1908, El Madani El Glaoui was appointed Minister of War (Ouazir al-Harb).

The rise of the Glaoua transformed Telouet into the residence of regional caïds and a major seat of authority in the South. Construction of the Kasbah began in the 18th century in a Berber architectural style.

The expression Bled Es Siba referred in Morocco to areas where the Sultan’s authority was not recognised, particularly in the Middle Atlas, High Atlas and Rif regions, as opposed to Bled El Makhzen.

The rise of the Glaoua transformed Telouet into the residence of regional caïds and a major seat of authority in the South. Construction of the Kasbah began in the 18th century in a Berber architectural style.

Between the 19th and 20th centuries, oriental and Hispano-Moorish influences were introduced as the Kasbah was expanded. It became both a seat of governance and a noble residence, housing a court of justice, a prison, ceremonial courtyards, stables, and living quarters.

The renowned El Hadj Thami El Glaoui, one of the most powerful caïds of his era, lived here. He amassed considerable wealth through extensive land ownership and investments in the Omnium Nord-Africain and the CTM transport company. A man of refined tastes, he played golf in Marrakech and collected carpets and precious stones. He hosted distinguished guests such as Resident General Steeg, Sultan Sidi Mohammed (on 16 November 1931), Winston Churchill (1937), General Patton (1942), Jacques Majorelle, Marshal Lyautey, and many others.

Today, the Kasbah is slowly succumbing to time and neglect. Only the main residence and a few annexes remain well enough preserved to receive the gaze of visitors. Yet these surviving chambers still reveal the finesse of the artisans’ craftsmanship, the elegance of its former masters, and the way of life of a world that has disappeared.

Every corner of the Kasbah is a page of Telouet’s human history, holding within its walls the memory of those caïds whom history remembers under a single name: the Lords of the Atlas.

Photo credits : Abdellah Azizi / azifoto.com

Location

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According to oral tradition, it houses the body of a deceased saint named Yaâcoub or Jacob, whose origins are unknown. Throughout history, communities of both Muslim and Jewish faiths have revered him.

According to custom, women from neighboring villages or passing through stop at the foot of this wall to engage in an intercessory ritual unique to the female community. They slip some stones into the crevices between the different stones of the wall. Then they deposit their laments and wishes, most often in the form of sung prayers.

As a child, I accompanied my mother to her ancestral village of Tazroute. Regular family visits that filled me with joy, although the distance to walk was exhausting. We walked more than three kilometers.

I remember as if it were yesterday the women on this dirt track traced by repeated footsteps. These women always walked carrying a basket, a bowl on their heads, a bundle of grass, or a child clinging to their backs, others bent under the weight of jugs to be carried for hours on end. Mothers carried with them their children, their thin bodies clad in tirelessly mended dresses, their tufts of hair like crests atop shaved and sun-tanned skulls.

My mother never missed the ritual of meditating against the wall of Moulay Yaâcoub, just like the other pilgrims who came, from morning till night, to lament by this saint as if to deposit their burning and secret sadness there.

For all these women, this place was like a refuge. They implored its host in moments of despair with a deep hope that he would come to relieve them.

I see them reciting a rosary of barely audible and vague words. Hands gently placed on the wall’s edge. Tongues then loosen and hearts open.

Did all these women come to celebrate each the funerals of their days and hopes, to entrust their misfortunes to these mute walls? So many tears have fallen here, like drops of an incessant and silent rain. They still echo through time, in the wells of our memories.

Some women have left forever, others have aged. And I have aged over the seasons. But through all this time, I have kept these childhood memories.

Like in the past, I recently came to visit these dilapidated walls to revive this fragment of my roots.

I recognized the familiar face of one of these women, though sculpted by wrinkles, the body bent by old age. This faithful neighbor of Moulay Yaâcoub’s final resting place confided in me in turn:

Moulay Yaâcoub, the confidant, the protector, the savior, the healer, the miraculous… but also a simple earthen ruin standing steadfastly at the foot of the rock. Our mothers entrusted him with their most intimate secrets, those kept in amulets and other talismans. Their hearts still slumber there.

Upon these walls, they wept, and their tears flow as if their overflow were a sunset.

The post Moulay Yaâcoub, the women’s wailing wall appeared first on Southeast-morocco.com.

You can read the article while listening to the Raïs chant.

In the mosaic of Morocco’s identity, the Gnawa hold a special place. Their presence not only enhances the country’s uniqueness but also deepens its soul. Known for their musical style, the Gnawa community in Morocco primarily carries echoes from sub-Saharan Africa. In this regard, they are the rightful heirs of the distant struggles of slavery that have long permeated the kingdom’s territories, reaching even its remotest corners. The Gnawa also embody an ancestral mystique blending healing arts with divine dialogue. Dispersed throughout Morocco, the Gnawa adhere to various traditions that set them apart from one another. One such tradition is connected to a mythical ancestor named Lalla Mimouna, revered by all as the defining figure of their identity. Near Tinghir, in the Todgha Valley, one of these Gnawa communities resides and regularly resonates with the hues of their heritage. M’bark El Haouzi oversees this community and has agreed to answer questions for southeast-morocco.com.

Southeast-morocco.com – You have dedicated your academic research to the Gnawa, notably by publishing the book “The Gnawa of Lalla Mimouna,” co-authored with Erwan Delon. What sparked your interest in this subject, and why did you choose to focus on this specific community?

M’bark El Haouzi – I am the Amghar of the Gnawa of Todgha, and I have devoted my life to valorizing and safeguarding this culture, which was on the brink of disappearing in the early 1980s.

Indeed, there was a lack of interest in this culture, and the risk of its erasure was real. In 1994, while pursuing my bachelor’s degree in French Language and Literature, I wrote my thesis on “The Gnawa Festival – Performances and Theatrical Games in the Errachidia Region.” In 1992, during an annual festival in Igli, I asked some questions to the late Messaoud Oubelkhir. He was one of the best Gnawa in the South of Morocco and a true guardian of Gnawa memory and traditions. He was renowned for his performances and his specific style of play. Before answering me, he asked about the purpose of my questions. I told him that my intention was to conduct an academic study on Gnawa activities and traditions in the Southeast of Morocco. He then took my hand and said:

I then promised him to dedicate myself to the preservation and valorization of the Gnawa heritage.

Southeast-morocco.com – Can you outline the main points of the history of the Gnawa community in southeastern Morocco: its origins, the period and reasons for its arrival in this part of Morocco, particularly in the Draa Valley, Tafilalet, and Todgha?

MEH – The arrival of the Gnawa in Morocco occurred in two main waves. The first took place during the reign of Ahmed Al-Mansour Dahbi. Born in 1549 in Fez and died in Marrakech in 1603, he was the 6th sultan of the Saadian dynasty. During his reign, which lasted from 1578 to 1603, he brought significant groups of black populations from the former Sudan – now Mali, Senegal, Niger, Mauritania, and Guinea. His objective was to have them work in sugar refineries such as those in Essaouira and Marrakech. At the end of his reign, these slaves revolted and destroyed the refineries before dispersing throughout the country.

Some of them ended up in service to maraboutic zaouias, while others served as chiefs of many rural tribes or alongside the Sultan’s representatives, the Caïds, who took them as domestic slaves.

All of them, scattered throughout rural Morocco, spoke Berber.

Etymology of the word Gnawa : according to Delafosse (1924), the Berber expression “akal-n-iguinaouen,” meaning “land of the Blacks,” gave rise to the words Guinea and Ghana, and subsequently to the word “gnaoua” due to phonetic similarity. Therefore, “gnaoua” would mean, by extension, black man or coming from the land of black men, i.e., sub-Saharan Africa. (Source: Wikipedia)

The Gnawa of the city and their trance culture.

A second wave brought the Gnawa to the city. They are called the Urban Gnawa because they arrived when the major cities of Morocco were being founded. They originated from Moulay Ismaïl’s royal guard and were called the Bukhara. They came with the caravans of Saharan trade at the end of the 18th century and throughout the 19th century.

They brought with them a music whose purpose is therapeutic. It’s the culture of trance. They are Arabic speakers.

However, it’s important not to forget that populations with black skin had already inhabited the Maghreb since antiquity. Many historians confirm their presence, particularly in the various oases of southeastern Morocco as peaceful cultivators of date palms and the land. They were called the Haratine.

The Haratins (in Berber isemghan, singular asemgh), sometimes called Black Moors, refer to black inhabitants of the Sahara, with various statuses depending on the regions. (Source: Wikipedia)

As for our Gnawa community, who arrived very early in the Southeast, we became linked with the Berber tribes of the Ait Atta, and we followed them wherever they went and settled.

Southeast-morocco.com – How did this community live in the Southeast region? What was its position and role in local society? What links did it have with other population groups?

MEH –So our community became closely linked to the Ait Atta very early on. The Saghro Massif represents their ancestral land, the cradle of their confederation. We have always had good relations with them, but like any black-skinned person, our ancestors experienced slavery or servitude.

It’s worth noting the multitude of names used to refer to these black individuals, who indeed do not all have the same origin but who all have been victims in one way or another of slavery.

Two main appellations can be observed: the Ikabliyen and the Ismkhan, also known as Ignaoun. The latter term is given to blacks associated with noble families, present as domestic slaves. However, later on, it is used as a local designation, so gnawa – ignaoun – ismkhan and ismgan are terms with equivalent meanings but which differ according to regions.

Those referred to by the first appellation are marginalized and continue to maintain the status that was once reserved for them. Therefore, in Todgha, the terms Ikabliyen and Haratine still carry a very pejorative connotation, as they refer to black men whose mission is to work in the fields, in other words, to be slaves.

These relationships stem from the dual origin of Moroccans. Overall, they consist of white Berbers and black Haratines, descendants of former slaves uprooted from sub-Saharan Africa. This second category continues to be subjected to an inferior status and is, in fact, exploited by the first.

In response to this situation, we can observe a significant emigration of blacks outside the villages, either abroad or towards the cities of the country, where working conditions are better and more lucrative. However, no one has come to replace those who left, resulting in a loss for the local economy as villages have been drained of their workforce.

However, it would be wrong to believe that blacks suffer violence; they are exploited economically. It should also be noted that until very recent times, these individuals formed miserable human groupings and, left to themselves, did not receive the necessary assistance to remedy the afflictions that burdened them.

A proud Gnawa community of its origins

Southeast-morocco.com – It is common to refer to the Gnawa using the term “Laâbid”, which literally means “slave” in Arabic. Why this appellation? How was this appellation perceived by members of the Gnawa community?

MEh – In fact, terms like Laâbid, Issamkhan, or Issamgan are always associated with the period of slavery and are given and used by white people to assert their superiority, exert power, and dominate over people of color, marginalizing them.

The perfect term is Ignawen (plural of the Amazigh term agnaw). This term is used to refer to black populations coming from distant lands to settle in the southern regions of Morocco. These populations spoke a language that the inhabitants of these regions did not understand. I can say that these racist appellations were the cause of the degradation of our traditions in the southeast regions until a recent time.

That said, nowadays, the Gnawa community no longer pays attention to these appellations because they are aware of the value of their heritage and are proud of their origin and identity.

Southeast-morocco.com – The Gnawa of the Southeast do not enjoy as much fame as those of Essaouira or Marrakech. How do you explain this? What differences can we observe between these different communities scattered across Morocco?

MEH – The Gnawa of Sidna Bilal have been extensively studied and indeed are more widely known in the media. The fact that they live in large cities has likely played a role. Their appellation also explains their notoriety, as Sidna Bilal was the first muezzin of the Prophet of Islam.

Their music is part of the trance culture with therapeutic purposes. They use a three-stringed instrument with a low register. Their calendar is lunar, and their ritual, always nocturnal, takes place at the end of the month of Chaâbane because they believe that with the arrival of the sacred month of Ramadan, all djinns are chained.

This trance practice has attracted much interest from anthropology, and Moroccan society has quickly integrated them because trance already existed in the cultural background of Moroccan society, among the Aïssawa, Hmadcha, and Derkaoua.

To be Gnawa of Lalla Mimouna, from father to son

Among the Gnawa followers of Lalla Mimouna, one inherits the Gnawa tradition from father to son, so we are Gnawa families. Conversely, among the followers of Sidna Bilal, one can become Gnawa by undergoing the initiation process into therapeutic practices, which makes these Gnawa more accessible to study and integrate, as anyone can become Gnawa.

This is why this book constitutes an exceptional testimony allowing us to discover the heritage of the Gnawa of Lalla Mimouna, which until now has remained in the shadow of the Gnawa of Sidna Bilal.

Southeast-morocco.com – What are the cultural traditions specific to this Gnawa community in the Southeast?

MEH – The Gnawa of the southeastern region of Morocco are called the followers of Lalla Mimouna or Gnawa of the Companion. They are named as such because they worship Lalla Mimouna, here called the Companion. She is an ancient African deity whom the Gnawa honor and engage with in all their activities. She is indeed the faithful and inseparable companion of the Gnawa, the one who comforts, heals, and accompanies the Gnawa throughout their entire lives.

This tradition is found in different regions of Morocco such as the Souss region, the North of Morocco, and even in Algeria.

The music of the Gnawa of the Companion is called Ganga in Berber. Regularly, groups go on begging tours, and all of them perform the pilgrimage to Lalla Mimouna every year. Our musical instruments are drums and castanets. There are two drum players who set the rhythm for the dancers. These dances and music are our heritage that we want to preserve intact.

Southeast-morocco.com – How does this annual pilgrimage to Lalla Mimouna unfold?

MEH – The tradition tells that Lalla Mimouna stayed on a mountain near the douar of Tamsermass, in the rural commune of M’cissi, Caïdat, Alnif Circle, and Tinghir Province in Southeast Morocco. Since then, a sanctuary has been erected to commemorate her presence.

The journey of the Gnawa to the sanctuary of Lalla Mimouna always takes place at the beginning of spring, specifically during the first week of the agricultural month of March. It is a ritual journey, a step that all believers must take. For them, it is a customary tradition inherited from their parents; but it is also a time for prayers and seeking forgiveness for sins and the blessing of their lives.

During the three days of the journey, sacredness and divinity are always present. The Gnawa try to relive the mythical time, the one their first ancestors deported from their homeland, would have remembered and longed for.

It should be noted that the Berber tribes of the Ait Atta have adopted the belief in Lalla Mimouna and participate in her pilgrimage.

Southeast-morocco.com – In the past, Gnawa music and dance were an important component of the cultural landscape of the southeastern region of Morocco, much like Ahidous, Ahwach, etc. What were the values and messages conveyed by this music and dance at that time?

MEH – Women are very attentive to visits from the Gnawa; they ask Lalla Mimouna for blessings for their children or fertility for themselves. Women often enter into trance during visits from the Gnawa. These trances thus have a therapeutic purpose as they allow the release of pent-up emotions.

On the other hand, the Gnawa tours constitute a special moment for the villagers, a celebration in which they participate, it’s the time for the spectacle. The Gnawa provide entertainment, but there is also the mystical aspect inherent in the veneration of a woman, Lalla Mimouna.

The villagers see the Gnawa as the bearers of blessings, and that’s why they participate in large numbers in the rituals offered.

For the preservation of the mystical symbolism

Southeast-morocco.com – Today, Gnawa music is reduced to a purely folkloric aspect and seems to have lost its mystical symbolism. Is this really the case, or is there still survival of these traditions? How do you think we can revalue this cultural heritage that belongs to the collective history of the Southeast and Morocco in general?

MEH – Indeed, we are witnessing a folklorization and commercialization of the Gnawa phenomenon. In this context, it’s easy to succumb to the allure of money while overlooking the mystical aspect.

Among the Gnawa of the Companion, we remain very attentive to this mystical symbolism. It is an essential point; the Gnawa venerate Lalla Mimouna with all the spiritual implications it entails, and it is also crucial to respect the tagnaouite values. These are the values we convey: decency between sexes and generations, mutual assistance in the community, and universal peace.

Furthermore, to valorize this heritage, it is essential to have the support of the authorities who must realize the fortune of having Gnawa in their region. Gnawa should be highlighted by involving them in cultural events and making them one of the cultural symbols of the region.

In these challenging times, it is more necessary than ever for policymakers to support our ancestral heritage that we keep alive from generation to generation.

To order the book “The Gnawa of Lalla Mimouna” from the publishing house L’Harmatan.

The post The living heritage of the Gnawa of Lalla Mimouna appeared first on Southeast-morocco.com.

The emergence of an inspiring feminine dynamic

“Tawasna” means craftsmanship in the local Amazigh language, and it is the chosen name for the tea salon project initiated and driven by a dozen women from the ksar of Aït Ben Haddou.

The choice of this name for the initiative carries significant symbolic importance as it represents, in a very concrete way, the awareness of rural women that they possess the ability to improve their own living conditions, and therefore have the responsibility to take action to achieve this. This embodies the model of a wise economy where women, regardless of their level of education, value their talents and put them in the service of their community, no matter how small. Tawasna is truly a buzzing hive of labor, solidarity, and fulfillment.

These women have freed themselves from the oppressive tradition of passivity that confined them to a stereotyped role where rural women resigned themselves to always being relegated to the background. The Tawasna project is nourished by the experience of each of the women who carry it, from their lives as wives and mothers, and especially as women aware of their new challenges and ambitions.

Work, a key to the fulfillment of rural women

Tawasna is a project built by and for women. It represents a space of fulfillment for its caring actors towards one another. In addition to their duties as homemakers, they take on the role of project managers with determination: they plan, organize, animate, and consult to ensure the smooth running of their enterprise, which allows them to weave and strengthen intimate bonds conducive to team cohesion.

All these women see their work within Tawasna as a key to their personal development and also a source of happiness because their commitment reflects back a more productive image of themselves. Above all, it is the discovery of self-confidence, of this ability to take charge autonomously, that fills them with pride. This energy drives them to strive harder to improve their situation, to give their best to enhance their immediate living environment, and to develop their personality.

This adventure brings together female volunteers from different backgrounds around the project. Elderly women from the ksar of Aït Ben Haddou position themselves as seasoned mentors. Fadma Ihho is the perfect example: a self-taught and inspiring sexagenarian woman who exudes her aura over all her colleagues. Her profile as an actress imbued with patience and serenity gives her the status of a charismatic leader.

Alongside Fadma, educated young girls gather. They represent the modern younger generation of Aït Ben Haddou, proud of their origins. Laila Azdou, the manager of the Tawasna project, embodies this model. After higher education at university and teaching experience, she decided to return to her native village. For her, life in the ksar is in perfect harmony with her personality. She then decided to put her knowledge and skills to work for her colleagues mobilized in the Tawasna project.

These local forces are supported by other individual goodwill, such as young girls and boys from different countries who intend to contribute to the project. These volunteers have also embraced the Tawasna project and participate with dedication in its development.

As for Loubna Mouna Guenoun, she plays her role as conductor by ensuring not to interfere too much in the project. True to her own expertise, she oversees the project from a distance but with vigilance: she coaches, advises, coordinates, and energizes… in a collegial approach that leads to autonomy, the primary guarantee of the project’s sustainability.

The women of Aït Ben Haddou have managed to simultaneously enhance the tourist wealth of their territory and their own personal potential. The Tawasna restaurant deserves to be known and visited because this micro-project demonstrates how every woman in Morocco has all the potential required to undertake where she is. It is the perfect illustration of a small community that has decided concretely to “cultivate its garden.”

To contact Tawasna :
Laïla Azdou – Tel: 00 212 669 94 40 75 / Email: tawesna.sdt@gmail.com

The post The hive of women in the ksar of Ait Ben Haddou appeared first on Southeast-morocco.com.

version française

LThe Southeast region of Morocco was once a vibrant territory where many civilizations arose and then faded away. It was on the outskirts of its vast Sahara Desert that Sijilmassa, the flagship city of the Middle Ages, was born, its radiance shining throughout Africa and extending to the East.

This city enchanted the greatest travelers and inspired chroniclers who were dazzled by its fascinating charm. Sijilmassa especially aroused the covetousness of various powers that succeeded each other in ruling over Morocco, the entire Maghreb, and the South of the Iberian Peninsula. Thanks to the city of Sijilmassa, the Tafilalet region was once a crossroads connecting West Africa to the Mediterranean and Eastern worlds. Today, the remains of Sijilmassa can be found in the vicinity of the town of Rissani, in the province of Errachidia, revealing only a tiny part of its wonderful history.

Sijilmassa, between spiritual hub and land of political rivalries

The early days of Islam witnessed significant turmoil due to profound discord within its communities. In the first century following the death of the Prophet Muhammad, the powerful Umayyad and Abbasid dynasties clashed in a fierce war for monopoly over political and religious power in the Islamic world. While it is now known that two major currents, Sunni and Shia, quickly opposed each other to vie for spiritual legitimacy and truth, a third ideological branch emerged during the reign of the fourth caliph, Ali, amidst tension and sedition, with the intention of escaping the dominant Islamic orthodoxy. This branch came to be known as Kharijism and actually constituted the first of Islam’s heresies.

The followers of Kharijism quickly fled from the East to escape persecution by the Umayyad, Abbasid, and Fatimid powers. Their spiritual leaders scattered throughout the Maghreb, reaching it as early as the beginning of the 8th century, following existing trade routes.

The Amazigh tribes of the Saharan regions of the Maghreb embraced this new spiritual ideology brought and preached by Kharijite refugees from the East. The Amazighs of the Tafilalet region in turn joined the leaders of these Kharijite dissidents and converted to their religion, Kharijism, specifically to one of its prevailing sub-branches known as the Sufri Kharijism, which distinguished itself by a moderate vision of Islam compared to other, more radical segments.

Sijilmassa, the oasis city founded by the Amazigh Zenata tribe.

As the Maghreb gradually came under the dominance of the Umayyad Caliphate based in Damascus, the Tafilalet region became a refuge for these dissident Arabs who harmonized with the rebellious spirit of the Amazigh tribes fighting against the conquering central power. It was under these conditions that the city of Sijilmassa was born in the years 757-758 on the eastern fringes of the desert, on the edge of the valley of the Ziz River. The city was founded by the Amazigh tribe known as the Zenata, adherents of the Sufri Kharijite rite and under the rule of their first leader, Semgou Ibn Wassoul Al Miknassi. Originally, Semgou was a shepherd settled in Tafilalet and professed the beliefs of Sufri Kharijism.

The city of Sijilmassa was initially led by Aïssa Ben Yazid El-Aswad, which literally means “Aïssa, Son of Yazid the Black” of the Béni Midrar tribe. He too followed the Sufri Kharijite doctrine and derived his name from his Amazigh Zenata father and his mother of sub-Saharan origin. His reign lasted for 15 years until the population revolted against him, leading him forcibly to the top of a mountain where he was abandoned and perished.

Semgou Ibn Wassoul succeeded him. He is considered the true founder of the city of Sijilmassa, its charismatic spiritual guide, and its great military leader.

It is crucial not to forget that the rise of Kharijism in the Maghreb contributed to strengthening the Great Berber Revolt that took place between 739 and 743 against the Umayyad Arab governors throughout the region. This context facilitated the rise of the city of Sijilmassa and its development as the capital of a true independent state, the Kharijite Emirate, under the authority of the Midrarids, also known as Wassoulites, who constituted the first dynasty of Sijilmassa.

After the city of Qairaouane (Kairaouane), founded in Tunisia in 670, Sijilmassa, then called “the oasis city“, became the second major city to emerge in the Maghreb under the influence of the new Muslim arrivals and their interaction with the existing peoples.

Of course, Sijilmassa quickly became the object of desire for the Arab dynasties holding central power. It was the subject of rivalry among Moroccan expansionist powers, notably the Almoravids, the Almohads, and the Marinids, from around 1260 until the city’s fall in 1393. This covetousness was fueled by its wealth and strategic location at the crossroads of trans-Saharan caravan routes, especially those linking Sijilmassa to Aoudaghost (or Awdaghust) located southeast of Mauritania and then capital of another Amazigh kingdom founded in the 9th century, those linking Sijilmassa to Awlil (Awlil is a salt mine in the western region within a day’s walk of Aoudaghost), the route from Sijilmassa to Gana, and finally the route from Sijilmassa to Tekroour (or Toucouleurs) in the regions of Senegal and Guinea.

It was the armies of the Almoravid dynasty, a strict Islamic movement, who were the first to conquer Sijilmassa in 1055. They put an end to Kharijism and reintroduced the so-called Maliki Islamic orthodoxy. Sijilmassa then became their launching pad for the conquest of the North.

However, the grand history continued its mixing, and the Marinid dynasty conquered Tafilalet in 1257 to officially seize Sijilmassa in 1274. This invasion marked the beginning of the city’s decline, as it definitively lost its status as an independent city and witnessed the slow dissolution of its unified political regime. The population of Sijilmassa settled in ksours (fortified villages) scattered throughout the territory of Tafilalet, each governed by a local lord.

The city of Sijilmassa was completely ruined and vanished forever. It became deserted. Perhaps to perpetuate its golden age, paradoxically, it was renamed “El Madina El Âamra” or “the populated city.” The name of Sijilmassa disappeared from memory by the 17th century and was replaced by the designation of Tafilalet.

Read also : The Berber world

A flourishing city steeped in tolerance and cosmopolitanism

Sijilmassa is situated on the banks of the Ziz River in the Tafilalet plain. In its early days, it was a vibrant religious center and exerted a fascination on populations of different ethnicities present in the surrounding territories, regardless of their faiths. Amazighs, Jews, Arabs, sub-Saharan Africans, and exiled Andalusians were all drawn to Sijilmassa over the years by the favorable conditions of tolerance conducive to constructive coexistence. Thus, this city and its diverse community were able to transform a once desert territory into a flourishing garden. Farmers, caravan traders, merchants, and artisans pooled their expertise for the construction of a prosperous oasis trading city that thrived from its foundation until the 14th century, spanning nearly six centuries.

Sijilmassa was primarily a transit point and the main gateway to the desert for trans-Saharan trade. Caravans traversing the Sahara would pass through and stop in this bustling trading city, connecting Morocco to Bilad al-Sudan, the “land of the blacks.” Caravansary trains crossed the desert via Sijilmassa. A single merchant, accompanied by guides and guards, would lead a caravan of sixty to eighty camels loaded with various goods: gold, salt, black slaves, ivory, ambergris, gum, shields, dates, wheat, raisins, iron utensils, silver jewelry, ceremonial clothing, perfumes, and more. In addition to its role as a commercial crossroads for trans-Saharan trade, Sijilmassa also controlled the minting of currency.

The abundance of water provided by the Ziz and Ghriss rivers, the richness of its groundwater like the legendary “Timedrine” spring known for its abundance, and the construction of a sophisticated irrigation system developed agriculture in the city of Sijilmassa, surrounded by a fortified oasis. Various products were cultivated there, including succulent date species, wheat, millet, corn, cotton, pomegranates, vines, and more.

Gardens and palm trees as far as the eye can see dot the city. This agricultural prosperity made Sijilmassa an oasis of delight wonderfully described by the Arab chronicler El-Idrisi:

The population of Sijilmassa consisted of Amazighs, primarily the Zenata who founded the city, as well as the tribes known as Sanhaja and Masmouda. The Jewish population provided a significant portion of scholars, merchants, and artisans. Due to their experience, they monopolized the silver mines and gold trade. Naturally, there were also Arab populations who arrived with the Islamic conquest movements in the Maghreb. Finally, a black population originating from sub-Saharan Africa settled in the city through caravan trade, often under the status of slaves or servants. This led to the emergence of the Harratin communities, who played a significant role in the development of the entire Southeast region due to their agricultural expertise.

Iraqi merchants from Basra and Kufa also populated the city, along with many other foreigners. Sijilmassa offered a space of cosmopolitanism and tolerance, which allowed for a rich ethnic mix, proving to be the main key to its influence.

The economic prosperity of the city brought wealth to its governors and populations. Its merchants enjoyed unparalleled opulence in the Muslim world, and its inhabitants were considered the wealthiest.

Its grand market, called Ben Akla, was known for its function as a customs post, caravan terminus, central hub of trade, and, inevitably, tax collection site. This market was managed by a tribe known as Ait Kabbour. It was from this nerve center that imports came from all directions. From Bilad Al Sudan to the South came gold, slaves, ivory, ebony, salt, ostrich feathers, and llama hides. From Souss and Awlil to the West came brass, ambergris, and salt. Merchants from the Maghreb brought manufactured goods such as textiles, leather, ceramics, ironwork, glassware, and books. As for the merchants of Sijilmassa, they specialized in ceramics, leather craftsmanship, dates, wine, and coins.

Sijilmassa was one of the great populous cities of the Maghreb, surrounded by a wall with twelve gates. It took more than half a day to traverse the city, as it was about eight kilometers long and two kilometers wide.

The refined urban planning also reflected the magnificence of Sijilmassa. Enchanting gardens adorned the city. Water flowed abundantly in beautiful fountains, with large wheels drawing water from the Ziz River. It flowed through subtly constructed channels, crossing the entire city, nourishing lush gardens and orchards filled with date palms and vines surrounding the city.

Many buildings showcase the beauty of the city. Dar Al Imara, the “government house,” was erected within the city’s walls. It was an elite residence worthy of the rulers of Sijilmassa, adorned with geometric patterns painted in black on white backgrounds and sculpted in stucco with painted Quranic inscriptions on the walls. Around three hundred and fifty castles were built, with the most famous bearing names like Tenegent, Tebuhasant, and Mamun, along with magnificent mosques beautifully decorated, Moorish baths, temples, and madrasas (theological schools). Four gates in the Sijilmassa oasis indicated the direction of the trading places. These were Bab Fez, the gate to Fez, Bab Sharq, the eastern gate, Bab Sahel, the Sahel gate, and Bab Gharb, the western gate.

Sijilmassa reborn: the extraordinary discoveries of 2024-2025

For decades, Sijilmassa remained an archaeological promise more than an explored reality. That changed between 2024 and 2025, when Morocco’s National Institute of Archaeological Sciences and Heritage (INSAP) launched the most ambitious excavation campaign the site has ever known — the first to be entirely led by a Moroccan team, using drones and 3D imaging technologies applied for the first time in the country.

The results exceeded all expectations and are reshaping our understanding of Moroccan history.

Beneath nearly nine thousand square meters of excavated urban core, archaeologists uncovered the foundations of a mosque measuring over 2,600 square meters — with a capacity for approximately 2,600 worshippers. Stratigraphic analysis dated its earliest phases to the 8th century, making it the oldest mosque ever identified on Moroccan soil, predating the celebrated Al-Qarawiyyin of Fez by more than a century. Carved plaster fragments from the Midrarid period (8th–10th centuries), adorned with geometric, vegetal and epigraphic motifs, emerged as the oldest known examples of Islamic decorative art in Morocco.

But the discovery that set the archaeological world alight was something smaller and more intimate: a ceramic mould shaped like a honeycomb, its cavities still holding traces of gold. This was a mould used to cast the blanks of Sijilmassa’s legendary gold dinars — the first such find ever made in Morocco, and only the second in all of Africa, after Tadmekka in Mali. The abstract idea of Sijilmassa as a gold-minting powerhouse suddenly had a tangible, golden face.

The excavations also revealed a complete residential quarter from the Alaouite period (17th–18th centuries), offering the first material evidence of the dynasty’s organized presence within the ancient city walls — a discovery that extends Sijilmassa’s known occupation by several centuries beyond what was previously documented.

The ruins of Sijilmassa are no longer merely the echo of a vanished world. They are, once again, an open book.

The enduring and radiant pride of its own past

Thus, Sijilmassa was a vibrant, inspiring, and flourishing city. It possessed a mysterious allure that equally captivated mystics, warriors, travelers, scholars, merchants, and nomads alike. Unfortunately, the decline of this mythical city was abrupt and brought an end to the spirit of cosmopolitanism that once prevailed there. Sijilmassa is forever buried under the rubble and forgotten.

Its enigmatic history has given rise to numerous legends conceived in the popular imagination to keep alive the memory of a flourishing and radiant city in southeastern Morocco where living together was pleasant, where everyone brought their differences, experiences, and uniqueness to build a common, prosperous endeavor for the benefit of all and fully open to the outside world.

Sijilmassa is the pioneering city of a plural and fraternal world, forever vanished but which must remain a lasting and radiant pride for the Moroccan people, who are also plural, as well as for the Moroccan nation: the pride owed to such a glorious past.

Read also : Tifinagh: from stone to digital, the living alphabet of the Amazigh world

Location

Source

• Sijilmassa : The Rise and Fall of a Walled Oasis in Medieval Morocco, Dale R. Lightfoot and James A. Miller
• The Last Civilized Place : Sijilmasa and its Saharan Destiny By Ronald A. Messier and James Andrew Miller
• Sur l’architecture du Tafilalt et de Sijilmassa (Maroc Saharien), Jacques Meunié

The post Sijilmassa, the mythical city that shone the true heart of the Maghreb appeared first on Southeast-morocco.com.

The palm grove of Skoura epitomizes the oasis in every aspect of its definition. It stands as an isolated vegetation haven in an arid environment, where a population of diverse origins has aggregated over time. Within this living space, an economy has been organized primarily around integrated agriculture, manifesting in a well-known layering of crops: date palms towering above, followed by fruit trees, and then in the lower, shadier layer, featuring vegetables, fodder, and cereals. This agricultural system relies on artificial irrigation of the land and gardens. Consequently, the Skoura oasis enjoys genuine ecological and cultural authenticity. The lush gardens and magnificent kasbahs that compose it are the result of the industrious ingenuity of the populations that have succeeded one another here generation after generation. Skoura stands as a green oasis of life, reflecting the history of the entire Southeastern region of Morocco.

A palm grove that lives to the rhythm of the seasons

At the foot of the Atlas Mountains, the palm grove of Skoura stands out in beauty. Its gardens abound with date palms and other fruit trees such as olive trees, pomegranate trees, almond trees, apricot trees, fig trees… These trees themselves protect the lower crops of wheat, barley, alfalfa, corn… that grow up to the edge of the riverbank.

According to oral tradition, Skoura was once a large lake populated by various bird species, the most common of which was the partridge, known in Amazigh as Askour or Taskourt for its feminine form.

Different communities migrated from the neighboring mountains and the edges of the desert, especially from the Drâa and Tafilalet regions, to settle along the shores of this lake. Legend has it that the majority community, coming from Drâa, then nicknamed the valley of olives, brought with them the olive tree to plant in this well-watered territory. These communities then drained the lake to grow gardens of palm trees, olive trees, or pomegranate trees… Over the years, the place was named Skoura through the repetition of the word Askour or partridge, as a name distorted over time.

The oasis of Skoura thrives and declines according to the whims of the seasons. Rainy years turn it into an enchanted paradise, while periods of drought bring desolation and hardship. The Dadès River flows persistently through it and crosses many villages of the palm grove, including the douar Sidi Flah, while the Hajjaj River, which runs the length of the palm grove, only nourishes the gardens with its waters during periods of flooding. The rest of the time, this river is dry.

A lire : The oasis bears the seeds of tomorrow’s Morocco, and of the world

The population of Skoura mainly sustains itself through agriculture. The scarcity of surface water has driven the inhabitants of the palm grove since ancient times to devise a clever irrigation system known as the khettara or qanat, consisting of an underground network of channels designed to capture water from the mountainsides and distribute it to the various villages and their family gardens. These draining galleries thus provide a constant and regular source of water for irrigating the fields throughout the seasons.

Kettara : the khettara technique is considered one of the oldest systems for water management in oasis agriculture, as its origins are traced back to ancient Persia over 3,000 years ago. In Afghanistan, they are called “kiraz,” in Iran “qanat,” in Algeria “fouggara,” in Morocco “khettara,” in Yemen “aflaj,” in China “karez,” and in Syria “kanawat.”

The times of desolation have nevertheless deeply marked the local collective memory. During the first half of the 20th century, drought struck the entire region, leading to famine and typhus. Mr. Mrabou, a native of the Skoura palm grove, holds distressing memories of this period and testifies:

Alongside these dark days, the Palmeraie of Skoura has experienced other periods of prosperity that have turned it into a magnificent fairyland. Times when the sky showered it with torrents of rain. The old man rejoices:

An architecture rooted in the oasis environment

Skoura reflects oasis architecture. Numerous hamlets are scattered within the palm grove, housing a population once subjected to provide labor for the local lord, the true master of the area, in the form of work in the fields and for the construction of kasbahs.

The hamlets adjoin the kasbahs, grand fortified residences built from the red earth called “tabia” in Amazigh. These kasbahs were symbols of power as they were inhabited by the notable figures of the territory, influential families who were nonetheless vassals of the reigning lord who held sway over the entire region. Examples include the Kasbah Si Abd El Kebir, once the Khalifa of Skoura, the Kasbah Mohamed Ben Hamadi, the Kasbah Ait Abou, and the Kasbah Ben Moro… All these fortified houses bear the names of the families to which they belong. The Kasbah Amridil, famous for having been depicted on the fifty-dirham banknotes, housed a renowned family of religious influence descended from the Naciria Zaouïa of Tamegroute.

A lire : The Naciria zaouia of Tamegroute, exploration of its genesis

These square-shaped kasbahs with towers at their four corners impose themselves with their grandeur and fascinate with the beauty of their architecture. The majesty of the walls and the precision of the proportions are complemented by harmonious decoration featuring splendid geometric designs: battlements with pyramid-shaped tops, friezes of arcades, motifs in bas-relief and haut-relief… Authentic ornaments in harmony with others newly introduced under Hispano-Moorish influence. These kasbahs are architectural masterpieces that highlight the skill of the local master craftsmen, these meticulous architects of earthen construction.

A crossroads of ethnic and cultural diversity

The inhabitants of Skoura are called the Ahl Skoura. Originally, they form an Arabized faction of the Amazigh tribes formerly known as the Masmouda, one of the three major Berber groups alongside the Zanata and the Sanhaja. A large part of this population is from the Tafilalt and Draa regions. During the reign of the Almohads, the inhabitants of the Skoura oasis were part of the Haskoura confederation, with its capital in Demnate. In addition to this element of the indigenous population, other communities, Arabs from the Beni Hilal and Beni Maâkil tribes, also settled in Skoura, enriching it with populations of African origin.

The population of Skoura was indeed truly composite, a real mixture of different branches of immigration that found themselves in this lush place to build a collective unified by time. A large part forms the common people, still called laâouam in the local Arabic, meaning populace. Then comes an important group of people called the haratines because of their agricultural know-how, their name literally meaning plowmen. This black-skinned population was therefore part of the farming class. They spread throughout the territories of the Draa and Tafilalt valleys and constitute a fundamental human component of the population and history of the southeastern region of Morocco.

The Haratines : known in Berber as Ismengen (singular: Asmeng) and sometimes referred to as Black Moors, denote black inhabitants of the Sahara. They are said to be descendants of black slaves brought from sub-Saharan regions like Sudan by Berber merchants, often as a result of raids conducted by the Tuaregs, or during the period of slavery in the Arab-Muslim world.

Another ethnic group with dark skin directly originating from Sudan and called Laâbid, literally meaning the slaves, traditionally handled household affairs. They constituted the servant class. Followers of the Gnaoua brotherhood, they carried on the traditions of this itinerant music and annually celebrated a spiritual tradition called Derdba, meaning drumming, starting from Douar Chebbaka to reach the tomb of the marabout Sidi Mbarek where they sacrificed an animal as an offering. Their music symbolized blessing and healing for the suffering among the inhabitants.

The Zaouias or Sufi brotherhoods also represented an essential component of the palm grove, a religious, social, and spiritual force. Their representatives bore significant names like Ezzaoui or Elmrabet, meaning religious or ascetic who has devoted himself to the contemplative life. This class was exempt from taxes, labor, and did not participate in inter-tribal conflicts. The buildings of these Zaouias served as shelters for the unfortunate, spaces for Quranic study as well as Quranic schools, and lodging for students. Their traces still exist today, such as the Zaouia Ait Sidi Rehhal and the Zaouia Si Abdelmoumen in the villages Kser Oulad Âamer, and the Zaouia Aït Si Yaâcoub in the Douar Ouled Brahim. However, a mysterious Zaouia persists in the stories told by the elders of Skoura, a Zaouia of the stone, the Zaouiat Lahjer. No one knows where it was located. It disappeared long ago, and only its name remains.

The cherished memory of the Jewish community of Skoura

Like in other areas of southeastern Morocco, the Jewish community was highly esteemed in the oasis of Skoura, even from the earliest times etched in the memories of the elders still alive today, suggesting that this population group directly contributed to the creation of the oasis, and certainly to its development over the years. Their significance is evidenced by their monopoly in trades ranging from commerce to craftsmanship, from manual arts to building construction. The Jews thus constituted an intrinsic human and cultural component integrated within the tribe of Skoura. Prominent Jewish family names residing in Skoura still resonate, such as Aït Mouchi Haroun, Aït Ben Âalia, Israel Ben Bihi, Ishak, Aït Âannou, Masâaoud, Mochi Haroun Hayoun, Haddou Ben Chaloum… This enriching presence endured for centuries and left visible traces, notably in their festive venues (El Hara) like in the douar Aoulad Âamer or in Jewish cemeteries such as those in the douar Boumehchad and the douar Ouled Yaâgoub, which literally means Sons of Jacob.

The Jews of Skoura celebrated their festivals such as the Mimouna at the end of the last day of Passover and the pomegranate festival known as Âid Erramman. Their revered saint, to whom they swore allegiance, was Moulay Ighi or Rabbi David Laskar, whose mausoleum is located in the village of Zerkten, in the Marrakech region. It is known that during those times of harmony, here in Skoura as in other living areas of the Southeastern region, the populations of Muslim and Jewish faiths from the same territory shared their traditional festivities with a spirit of mutual respect and affection.

Mohamed Mrabou still recalls his days living with the Jews in Skoura. He reminisces about that era, which was a vibrant part of his life and that of the entire Skoura oasis, once:

Such is the face of the palm grove of Skoura, an oasis rooted in the oldest traditions of Morocco yet still vibrant, radiating the most beautiful colors of this cultural mosaic that has shaped the identity and character of the Southeast region of Morocco.

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