tuareg
2004-11-02 14:13:58 UTC
Western Sahara : Where the cause will not die
Oct 28th 2004 | LAAYOUNE (From The Economist print edition)
Morocco has again balked at a referendum. But impatience is growing
Reuters
Some day, we'll have a country
THERE are settlers, and there are natives. Both say the land is theirs.
International law says the natives are right. But might is on the side
of the
settlers, who have built an impregnable wall to keep out the refugees
who fled
the country when the newcomers arrived, three decades ago. Endless peace
negotiations have got nowhere. Settlement continues, and the natives
grow ever
more angry and desperate.
This is not the West Bank. It is the Western Sahara, a sand-blasted
wasteland
the size of Colorado that is the subject of one of the longest, but most
neglected, conflicts in the post-colonial era. The neglect may continue.
The
UN Security Council is likely to decide this week to extend again the
mandate
of the peacekeeping force that has been stationed in the territory since
1991,
when the disputing parties agreed to a ceasefire. But a number of new
factors
suggest that the issue may not be so easily reshelved as it has been in
the
past.
The Western Sahara was once a possession of Spain. The native
population,
known as Sahrawis and then numbering fewer than 100,000, grew restless
and
began to fight for independence. Unluckily they started rather late. By
the
time Spain decided to leave, in 1975, its leader, General Franco, was
dying.
Unluckily, too, the Sahrawis' northern neighbour, Morocco, saw the
underpopulated region as its own.
When Morocco's then king, Hassan II, massed 500,000 of his subjects on
the
border in a show of will known as the Green March, the fragile Spanish
government capitulated. Morocco took control of the dusty capital,
Laayoune,
and of the nearby phosphate mines that were the territory's sole known
resource aside from fish, camels and goats. But the Sahrawi guerrilla
movement, Polisario, continued to fight, and with surprising tenacity.
The nasty desert war that lasted through the 1980s cost Morocco as many
as
25,000 casualties. It uprooted half the Sahrawi population, pushing them
into
the desolate south-west corner of neighbouring Algeria, where some
160,000 of
the refugees, and their children, still live in camps run by the
Polisario's
self-declared government-in-exile. An influx of Moroccans, lured by
government
perks and subsidies, turned the remaining Sahrawis into a minority in
their
own land. Those who complained were viciously suppressed. Hundreds
simply
disappeared.
Morocco eventually prevailed, by creating a barrier of sand, landmines
and
watch towers stretching over 2,000km (1,250 miles) across what it calls
its
southern provinces. But with few countries recognising Morocco's claim,
and
with the popularity of it waning inside Morocco as well, it seemed
politic to
seek a negotiated solution, based on the idea of a referendum that would
allow
the territory's people to choose their own destiny.
Since the 1991 ceasefire, and the insertion of a 230-man UN force, no
fewer
than three different referendum plans have been tabled. These successive
plans
have offered increasingly generous terms to Morocco, including allowing
most
of its settlers to vote, but each time Morocco has balked. It now says
that it
is willing to talk more, but only on the basis that Moroccan sovereignty
should remain unquestioned. This led James Baker, a former American
secretary
of state, to resign after serving seven years as the UN's special envoy.
Morocco is insulated from international pressure by its close alliances
with
America and France. Laayoune today looks like a model Moroccan city,
complete
with bustling markets. The arrival of the internet and mobile phones has
relieved the gloom of what had been almost total isolation. A
UN-sponsored
programme to allow brief visits from the exiles in Algeria has brought
comfort
to some Sahrawis, who in many cases had lost contact with their families
for a
generation.
But the city is also ringed by army camps and crawls with police.
Human-rights
abuses have lessened, as they have in Morocco proper since Hassan's
death in
1999. Yet activists still risk beatings, show trials and travel bans.
Sahrawis
say that unlike Moroccans, they have yet to be allowed to air grievances
publicly, or seek redress for past abuses. They also complain of being
systematically cut out of government jobs in favour of settlers.
The simple fact is that Sahrawi dreams of independence have not faded.
Both in
Laayoune and in the far-off refugee camps, there is talk of taking up
arms
again for what everyone calls The Cause. In September, Morocco received
a jolt
when South Africa added its moral weight by recognising Sahrawi
statehood. And
at the UN, even America has declared impatience with supporting a
mission
whose initial mandate was to arrange a referendum, and which has so far
cost
$600m.
http://www.economist.com/World/africa/displayStory.cfm?story_id=3338948
Oct 28th 2004 | LAAYOUNE (From The Economist print edition)
Morocco has again balked at a referendum. But impatience is growing
Reuters
Some day, we'll have a country
THERE are settlers, and there are natives. Both say the land is theirs.
International law says the natives are right. But might is on the side
of the
settlers, who have built an impregnable wall to keep out the refugees
who fled
the country when the newcomers arrived, three decades ago. Endless peace
negotiations have got nowhere. Settlement continues, and the natives
grow ever
more angry and desperate.
This is not the West Bank. It is the Western Sahara, a sand-blasted
wasteland
the size of Colorado that is the subject of one of the longest, but most
neglected, conflicts in the post-colonial era. The neglect may continue.
The
UN Security Council is likely to decide this week to extend again the
mandate
of the peacekeeping force that has been stationed in the territory since
1991,
when the disputing parties agreed to a ceasefire. But a number of new
factors
suggest that the issue may not be so easily reshelved as it has been in
the
past.
The Western Sahara was once a possession of Spain. The native
population,
known as Sahrawis and then numbering fewer than 100,000, grew restless
and
began to fight for independence. Unluckily they started rather late. By
the
time Spain decided to leave, in 1975, its leader, General Franco, was
dying.
Unluckily, too, the Sahrawis' northern neighbour, Morocco, saw the
underpopulated region as its own.
When Morocco's then king, Hassan II, massed 500,000 of his subjects on
the
border in a show of will known as the Green March, the fragile Spanish
government capitulated. Morocco took control of the dusty capital,
Laayoune,
and of the nearby phosphate mines that were the territory's sole known
resource aside from fish, camels and goats. But the Sahrawi guerrilla
movement, Polisario, continued to fight, and with surprising tenacity.
The nasty desert war that lasted through the 1980s cost Morocco as many
as
25,000 casualties. It uprooted half the Sahrawi population, pushing them
into
the desolate south-west corner of neighbouring Algeria, where some
160,000 of
the refugees, and their children, still live in camps run by the
Polisario's
self-declared government-in-exile. An influx of Moroccans, lured by
government
perks and subsidies, turned the remaining Sahrawis into a minority in
their
own land. Those who complained were viciously suppressed. Hundreds
simply
disappeared.
Morocco eventually prevailed, by creating a barrier of sand, landmines
and
watch towers stretching over 2,000km (1,250 miles) across what it calls
its
southern provinces. But with few countries recognising Morocco's claim,
and
with the popularity of it waning inside Morocco as well, it seemed
politic to
seek a negotiated solution, based on the idea of a referendum that would
allow
the territory's people to choose their own destiny.
Since the 1991 ceasefire, and the insertion of a 230-man UN force, no
fewer
than three different referendum plans have been tabled. These successive
plans
have offered increasingly generous terms to Morocco, including allowing
most
of its settlers to vote, but each time Morocco has balked. It now says
that it
is willing to talk more, but only on the basis that Moroccan sovereignty
should remain unquestioned. This led James Baker, a former American
secretary
of state, to resign after serving seven years as the UN's special envoy.
Morocco is insulated from international pressure by its close alliances
with
America and France. Laayoune today looks like a model Moroccan city,
complete
with bustling markets. The arrival of the internet and mobile phones has
relieved the gloom of what had been almost total isolation. A
UN-sponsored
programme to allow brief visits from the exiles in Algeria has brought
comfort
to some Sahrawis, who in many cases had lost contact with their families
for a
generation.
But the city is also ringed by army camps and crawls with police.
Human-rights
abuses have lessened, as they have in Morocco proper since Hassan's
death in
1999. Yet activists still risk beatings, show trials and travel bans.
Sahrawis
say that unlike Moroccans, they have yet to be allowed to air grievances
publicly, or seek redress for past abuses. They also complain of being
systematically cut out of government jobs in favour of settlers.
The simple fact is that Sahrawi dreams of independence have not faded.
Both in
Laayoune and in the far-off refugee camps, there is talk of taking up
arms
again for what everyone calls The Cause. In September, Morocco received
a jolt
when South Africa added its moral weight by recognising Sahrawi
statehood. And
at the UN, even America has declared impatience with supporting a
mission
whose initial mandate was to arrange a referendum, and which has so far
cost
$600m.
http://www.economist.com/World/africa/displayStory.cfm?story_id=3338948