LEADER OF A HOLY WAR
“One of the first acts of Berenguer,” said the Sherif, “was to release
Dris er Riffi from the prison in Tetuan where he had spent the years
since Alkali’s death, and to reinstate him as Pasha of Azeila. His next
blow was given in the name of Mulai el Mehdi, in the form of a second
confiscation of my properties. Notice of this was spread through all the
villages—‘Forfeit all that he possesses of goods, in cities, and camps,
his horses, his herds, his farms, as well as all things which he has on
his lands, and that which is in the hands of his bailiffs. He shall also
be despoiled of those goods which he confiscated from the Zawia and the
Aukaf.[90] It was a very fine notice, and it must have delighted my
enemies, but the only goods that I cared for at that moment were rifles
and grain. I knew that there would be another famine in the hills, and I
tried to guard against it by storing quantities of millet and barley at
Tazrut. Soon I heard that my old enemy Silvestre had been sent back to
Morocco. He must have been glad of this chance to defeat me, but I swore
that the end of the war should also be his end or mine. Men said to me,
‘It is a sign that no quarter will be given,’ and I answered, ‘He has
returned to this country for the last time, nor will he again see his
own.’ Silvestre was given a command at Ceuta, and it was my intention to
meet him face to face.
“This time the Spaniards had arranged their plan beforehand. They
operated with several columns, making themselves masters of a circle of
villages and then destroying whatever lay between them.” This plan of
dividing the country into triangles and occupying the angles of each in
turn was followed with success by the French in their zone. Berenguer,
who was an able general, chose Larache, Rogaia and Tzenin as the first
triangle; the famous Fondak, Al Kasr and Suq el Arbaa as the second; and
Tazrut-Teffer-Xauen as the third.
“In this war,” said Raisuli, “the Spaniards received less help from the
tribesmen than the first, for the Arabs remembered the fate of el Tazi
and others, whom Jordana had not protected, when he made peace with me.
Still, there were some who went against me, notably Haj el Merkadi, who
was responsible for my defeat at Ben Karrish. This was the first battle
of the war in which I fought myself. The Spaniards pressed us hard, for
Ben Karrish is not easy to defend, and their guns forced us to retire to
a hill beyond the village. From this height we commanded their advance,
and our rifles picked them out, one by one, on the road. Here their guns
could do us little harm, for, to kill one man, they expended many shells
and blew up much of the hillside. We lay comfortably among the grass and
fired at our ease. Suddenly behind us there came a body of men galloping
and I thought we had been outflanked, but they rode openly, calling our
names and shouting greeting. One said, ‘It is Ueld el Faqih (el
Merkadi). He has brought his flag to our aid.’ The horsemen stopped over
the brow of the ridge, and I went to meet them with some of my men.
“When we were quite close and the salaams were on our lips, el Merkadi
put up his rifle. It was a signal, and every man followed his example.
My people died before they had time to lift their arms, but I went
forward untouched and some followed me. Ueld el Faqih turned in his
saddle and cried, ‘He will not die. We have finished. Let us go!’ My men
came over the hill to support us, forgetting the Spaniards below. There
was a short fight and some of the traitors were killed, but el Merkadi
had chosen a good horse. He escaped, and his treachery was profitable to
Spain, for a line of rifles had been pushed forward and the houses of
Ben Karrish were in flames.
“I stayed some time on that hill and, through my field-glasses, I
watched men struggling with the fires, till there was only a little
smoke to tell of the battle. This was the second time the village had
been taken from me, but no shot ever touched the mosque. From Ben
Karrish we retreated to the Fondak, and there I remained many months. I
lived in a hovel where the roof was so low that a tall man could not
stand upright, but its beams were made of the telegraph-posts which we
had cut. The great do not need great houses, but I regretted that I
never saw my family. As soon as I occupied the Fondak, I set about
preparing its defences, for I knew that soon there would be aeroplanes
and we should not be safe above ground. No preparation is needed in the
mountains, for there Allah has provided an abundance of caves, but at
Ain Yerida the hills are bare, so my people dug ditches where the
riflemen could lie, and holes under the earth where they might hide from
the ‘jinn-birds who laid eggs of death.’[91] Ullah, the tribesmen were
always frightened of aeroplanes! They thought the machines would sweep
down and pick them up by the hairs of the head and drop them from a
great height.
“From the Fondak I wrote to Sidi Abdesam ben Thami, who was my friend,
and told him of the treachery of el Merkadi, saying to him, ‘It would be
a good thing and pleasing to Allah, if you invited this wicked man to
have an interview with you, but outside your house, that he may not be
your guest. Then you can arrange an ambush for him, or else send men to
kill him in his own village.’ I wrote also to my friends in Tangier,
asking for more ammunition. El Menebbhe and the son of Alkali who was
killed, arranged this matter for me. There was also a farmer in the
international zone whose house was at my service, and under his roof
many curious changes occurred. Ben Alkali was head of my secret service,
and he sent me warning of the movements of my enemies. When the road was
clear of ambuscade, he would inform Menebbhe, who would arrange a
caravan of mules, laden with goods for Azeila or Larache. Permission was
obtained from the Spaniards for these harmless stores to pass into their
zone. Fifty or sixty beasts would go out of Tangier, their panniers
burdened for the needs of Larache, but, at a certain farm where they
always arrived at night, their loads would be changed, as also the
direction of their journey. Before dawn my ammunition was at my gates!
“Besides these supplies I had hand-grenades which Jordana had given me
for use against the common enemy, and a certain number of guns, but few
of my men knew how to use them. As always, my policy was to defend, not
to attack, and, for this reason, I lost fewer men than my enemies. Great
masses of troops are useless in this country. They are cramped and there
is no room for them to disperse, when swept by hidden fire. I have seen
Spaniards fall as quickly as hail in the mountains, because there were
too many of them together. Berenguer’s advance was methodical, and he
crowned each hill with a fort, surrounding it with wire or sandbags, but
it is not difficult to besiege such places, and a good number fell into
our hands. My men made a collection of Spanish uniforms, and sometimes
wearing them, they would approach quite close to a column, throw their
bombs, and escape in the confusion.
“Once this had been done very successfully by some men of Beni Aros.
Retiring swiftly from the fight, leaving the enemy with several dead,
they came to a small wadi where the water was good. ‘Let us stay here
and rest,’ said one. ‘The Spaniards are busy now with their spades.’ The
leader urged that it was too near the lines of the enemy, but it was hot
and there appeared to be no danger. So they stayed by the stream, and
some lay down and opened their uniforms, for they did not like the tight
jackets of the Spaniards. An hour or two passed, for there is no time in
our country, and with an Arab a thought is always more valuable than a
deed. Suddenly the watch they had posted looked over his shoulder and
signalled the approach of an enemy. Before the others could hide
themselves and while they still stared back the way they had come,
imagining they were pursued, a Spanish column appeared from the opposite
direction and walked almost on top of them. ‘Give us water,’ said the
first rank, and fumbled for a second too long. Even then they got in the
first shots, but one was killed and one wounded as they retreated, their
leader shouting, ‘Buen Dios, you may have all the water that is left!’
He was determined to show off his Spanish!
“This was at the beginning of the war, when men still laughed and
believed that the ‘baraka’ of the Sherif was stronger than the artillery
of Spain. In those days I said often to the Ulema, ‘Allah will save us
when it is his will, but we shall be driven to the edge of our country,
and safety will not come from our arms.’
“At first the Spanish troops were insufficiently provided with material
(of war), and my people rejoiced, for they thought it would be an easy
matter to defeat them. Berenguer did not realise how many men he would
lose, so there were not enough hospitals. The transport was delayed by
the roughness of the track. Maps were not reliable, and columns lost
themselves among the hills. My captains were confident of success, but I
knew that it would only be for a little. The Government at Madrid was
composed of my enemies, for the Liberals have always been against me.
Soon new troops would be disembarked and, though their very numbers
might tell against them, we should be crushed by the weight of their
metal. Under Allah, I trusted to two things—first, that the Government
would fall in time, secondly, that the Spaniards would get disheartened
by their heavy losses and that my old allies, the journalists, would
come to my aid! It is easy to take every village in my country, but you
cannot take the country itself. When every rock and cave is armed
against an invader there is no one upon whom he can retaliate.
“All through the summer my headquarters were at the Fondak, which we
held without much difficulty, though the Spaniards made a great effort
to occupy Wadi Ras. It was in the hottest days of the year,[92] when
sleeping is preferable to fighting. The Spanish columns advanced from
Ceuta and Tetuan in order to take the hills north of the Wadi, but I had
prepared a stratagem. The two columns were to come in sight of each
other at a certain place, but they would not join until their objective
was reached. Men of Anjera were to guide them through the tortuous
defiles, and the Anjera have never been difficult to bribe! Money was
the one thing that was always plentiful with us, for my wealth was
banked, beyond reach of the Spaniards. The chosen guides lost themselves
happily with a bag of douros, and some loyal men took their places. Thus
one column was skilfully guided South-east and one South-west, and, when
the officers complained, they were told it was in order to avoid ground
unfit for artillery. As the gap widened between them, a third column
appeared, apparently also marching from the coast. It consisted of
nearly two hundred men, dressed in grey uniforms, with mounted officers,
who marched in European fashion, putting handkerchiefs and leaves under
their helmets as a protection against the sun. With them were the mules
of a mountain battery, and the leaders gave them orders in Spanish. In
time, communication was established between this force and the one on
their left, and the first waited on a ridge for the second to pass below
it into the valley.
“The battery was out of sight of those beneath, and it should have
worked havoc, but my men were slow at mounting it, and only one gun
spoke. When the strange column halted on the high ground, the men had
moved apart, as if to watch their comrades below, and each man was
standing carelessly by a stone or a bush. The leader raised his field-
glasses to look at a distant hill, and, at the signal, every soldier
disappeared. In a second the ridge vomited fire, and the Spanish column
was trapped. A few snipers had been posted opposite, and these made a
great show of their firing, that the enemy might think they were between
two large parties.
“There was slaughter in the valley, as you see before the hill Zawias on
a feast day, or in the butcher’s precincts after a market. At first the
Spaniards did not understand, and they fired wildly, not knowing where
was the enemy. As half of them were killed and a man had only time to
see that the one at his side was dead before he fell across him, panic
arose, for there was no way out of the trap. Men screamed and dropped
their rifles, stumbled over dead bodies, and were trampled among them. A
few lay amidst the rocks and shot steadily at the smoke which rolled
above them. One, who was brave, lay still with the dead, and, when my
men thought it was finished, and came down to take the rifles and
cartridge-belts from the bodies, he killed two and wounded a third
before they cut off his head. I think the Spaniards lost a hundred or a
hundred and fifty men that day, and our casualties were perhaps six; but
this did not occur again! Many heads were brought into the villages, and
the women stuck twigs in their eyes and put them upon the topmost spikes
of the hedges.
[Illustration: Azeila from the air]
“When their work was done, the Anjera guides slipped away and found
shelter behind our lines, but the man who led the other column was
suspected of treachery, and they tied him to the tail of one of the
horses, so that he could not escape, and, to save his life, he was
obliged to lead the enemy to the point they had indicated to him. Things
did not go much better for them there, for they had not enough food or
ammunition with them, and I had posted a party of men with bombs to blow
up the troop who brought their supplies. There is no wide road in Wadi
Ras, and, everywhere, a few men can hide and do much damage. The bombers
divided into several groups and threw their grenades from convenient
places above the heads of the Spaniards. A few men were wounded, and
three mules killed, but the others pressed on, thinking that the ambush
was passed. A few hundred yards further on, the same thing happened,
and, in great confusion, carrying their wounded on such mules as were
left, the troop fell into the third trap. After this they retired,
thinking that the whole valley was lined with death. This left the
column at Wadi Ras isolated among the northern hills, where, if we had
put a ring of snipers round them and besieged them, they would have been
helpless, for their ammunition was low and they wasted their bullets.
“News had been brought to me that a force (under Barera) was on its way
from Larache, so I saw that an end must be made of the affair. I sent
messengers from Beni Aros, of such families as had had dealings with the
Spaniards, to inform Barera that he was too late. With much distress,
they were to explain that the remnants of the columns had retired
towards Ceuta and Tetuan, and that the forces of the sheriff were in
strength at Wadi Ras. That night we set forth to render the words true!
The enemy occupied a ridge which was steep on one side, but easy of
access from the other. A few tribesmen made a pretence of attacking the
gentle slopes, firing and shouting the war-cry of their people, as if it
were only a sortie from some village which wanted to collect a few
rifles. After they had drawn the attention of the Spaniards, some
horsemen galloped up in a long line and blazed over the heads of the
first party. They were good targets and a few were killed, upon which
the others made a feint of retiring, but, in reality, as soon as they
were out of sight, they dropped down among the scrub and waited. The
horsemen stood up and urged their horses up the hill at full speed,
firing as they rode, but, when the enemy would have met this charge,
they wheeled round and fled, sliding over the rough ground on their
haunches, still discharging their rifles and shouting. The enemy
followed, but there were few wounded, for the voluminous robes of the
Moors received more bullets than their bodies.
“The clamour was intentional, for it had covered the approach of the
real force which crept goat-like up the crags, in single file. On this
side the ridge was scarcely guarded, and the few sentries were easily
overpowered by the first tribesmen who climbed, with a knife between
their teeth. The end was very easy. My men were on the ridge before the
majority of the enemy turned from chasing the horsemen of el Arbi. They
fought stubbornly, sending several tribesmen to paradise, but they were
overpowered and driven backwards down the slopes to the ambush which
awaited them.
“That was the second night of the battle in Wadi Ras, and on the third
there was little left to do. The column from the West had not arrived,
but there were still stragglers who had reformed from the others, intent
on reaching the coast, and some isolated posts which had lost
communication with the main body. Excited by their victory, the
tribesmen would not be restrained, and they killed many hundreds of
wounded and threw themselves recklessly upon any Spaniards who were
still in the country. Once again there were murders in the coast towns,
and, in one place, the Arabs laid a plot to destroy all the Christians.
It was arranged that the tribesmen should enter the city secretly in
small numbers, with no rifles and in the clothes of townsmen, but, under
his waistcoat, each man would carry a revolver. They would meet in the
square and mix separately with the people in the hour after sunset, when
all the Europeans come out to profit by the cool. Then, at a given
signal, each man would fire, and kill as many as he could.
“Allah was not with them, and there was a mistake. Many had entered the
town safely, but the guard challenged one group at the gate. Frightened
that the plot would be discovered, the tribesmen fired and killed some
of the guard. They broke into the town, but warning had been given to
the citizens, who rushed for their arms. The tribesmen were scattered,
and there was little fighting, though some were killed with bullets
which were fired without purpose. Three men were captured, but they knew
nothing of the plot and had only used their weapons to be in company
with the rest.
“After the battle in Wadi Ras, the tribes gave praise to Allah and
thought that shortly there would not be a Christian left in the country.
It was useless that I said to them, ‘Our success has signed the judgment
against us,’ for I knew that Silvestre would crush Spain between his
hands for men and money to destroy me. I redoubled my efforts to supply
the needs of Jebala against a long campaign. Even the prisons were used
as stores, and no man was allowed to sell his harvest. Much grain had
been destroyed by the enemy, and they had taken the beasts, or killed
them, if they had no time to drive them away. This is against the law of
Islam, by which it is forbidden to destroy the food, or poison the
water, of an enemy.
“For two months we had little fighting, for the Spaniards were waiting
for reinforcements. I knew what was before us, for I heard that the
harbours were never empty of ships, and that, from them, were landed
aeroplanes, and armoured cars, and bombs with gas in them that men
cannot breathe. Ullah, what strange people you are! You say it is savage
to cut men’s heads off when they are dead and their bodies without
feeling, but it is civilised to stifle the living man with poisonous
fumes, so that he dies slowly and his body decays while his spirit is
still in it! Allah will decide between us!
“While all these preparations were being made against us and the coast
was covered with troops, the wharves piled with ammunition, a deputation
came to me from many tribes, including the Guezauia, the Riffs of
Gomara, the Beni Gorfet, and the Sumata, who were the last to stop
fighting against the Christians. They asked me to go up to Sidi Abd es
Salaam to meet the Sheikhs of all the loyal tribes and to swear an oath
with them. I agreed, for I knew that still more armaments must come
before the attack would be renewed. I took with me my nephew and el
Kharaji and the Jellali who commanded my cavalry; and the oldest of all
my slaves, Ba Salim, held my stirrup as I rode.
“We started early in the dawn, and I remembered that other ride to meet
Jordana at Guad Agraz, but this time my salutations were for my own
people—who knows the intentions of Allah! We stayed one night in Tazrut
where I was joined by the Kaids of Beni Aros and two hundred of my
soldiers. The next day we rode up Jebel Alan, but the start was delayed
because, from all over the country, men hurried to ride with me, and the
women were busy cooking rice and bread. When all had been fed and the
morning prayer had been said in the mosque, for there was no room for
the multitude in the Zawia, we left Tazrut and started up the first
slopes. Below us the village was white and prosperous under the
protection of the tree which is sacred in my family. If anything should
destroy it, the fortunes of the Raisuli Sherifs would wither, so my
house is built round it, and there are walls to protect its growth.
“It is said that my ancestor, Mohamed, said his prayers under a
venerable oak,[93] and, because he was then hiding from his enemies, and
had no food, he ate the acorns[94] that fell from it. The mercy of Allah
turned them into bread in his mouth, and his hunger was satisfied. He
renewed his prayers, and when he noticed that the old tree above him was
falling, he planted one of the acorns in the ground and blessed it.
Later on, when some of his disciples were restored to him, he brought
them to Tazrut and showed them the acorn sprouting from the ground. ‘It
is the child of the tree whose fruit saved me,’ he said, ‘and my
children shall serve it.’ Then he told his disciples to build a fence
round it and watch it, ‘for,’ said he, ‘my strength is ebbing with that
of the old tree, but all shall be given to my house, more than my tongue
can speak of, or my words embrace. They shall be the most powerful in
the land as long as they remember the gratitude the Sherifs owe to this
oak.’ It is said, also, that on the day he died, and there was mourning
among the villages of Beni Aros, a great wind came and blew down the
tree, but the seedling remained, and it is now nearly as old as its
ancestor. Some of its branches have been destroyed, but no bombs touched
it, for it is the will of Allah that the Raisuli still live.
“We rode up to Jebel Alan in a long line which reached halfway down to
the village, and it was sunset before we reached the sanctuary. Each man
dismounted and said his prayers where he stood, and the mountain was one
voice praising Allah, for there were many thousand tribesmen, more than
I have ever seen before Sidi Abd es Salaam. There were strangers to me,
even among the Kaids, and I knew that some great thing would happen. All
kissed my sleeve, or even my shoe as it was in the stirrup, or the
trappings that were on my horse, but there was no speech. In silence we
reached the summit, and the tribesmen fell back, ranging themselves upon
the ground, till every space was covered. The Ulema from the Zawia of
Teledi, the wisest men in Morocco, had come down from the peaks of
Ahmas, and the Sheikhs of Beni Aros were there in their full number,
though some were so great in years that their strength had gone from
their eyes to their beards.
“No man broke his fast that night, but all waited for the hour when the
Hezb would be chanted. The moon was full, and there was no other light.
It seemed as if the clouds of the sky had descended and the whole earth
gathered itself together and listened. The Sheikhs’ white robes were
immobile by the wall of Abd es Salaam, but the brown jellabas of the
tribesmen stirred in the shadows. Murmurs that were not words ran among
them, and Allah was in our midst. At last the cry of the first Azzan
broke against the rocks, and the thousand voices echoed it, till all
Jebel Alan was a tongue in prayer. The Imam of Teledi repeated the Hezb
and the mountain bowed itself towards Mecca. There were those who said
the earth really moved and trembled under our feet. At the end of the
prayers there was silence, and then, in moonlight, that was brighter
than the day, the Sheikhs of the tribes spoke, each one in his turn.
They told how it was ordered that battle should be made against the
unbeliever, and they recited the life of the Prophet, showing his
victories and also his defeats. They told how paradise waited for the
slayer of the Christian and how the Prophet suffered when he, too, was
homeless and fled from Mecca. ‘If your villages are destroyed by the
enemy, your house is Islam,’ exclaimed a Sheikh of many years, whose
voice tore the strength out of his body, and the tribesmen cried out
that a foreigner should never rest his foot in the mountains.
“Men rocked themselves backwards and forwards, and repeated the name of
Allah, till some foamed at the mouth and were sightless. Still the
Sheikhs spoke of war, and the men of Beni Aros leaped up and shouted,
‘We follow the Sherif!’ Far away the cry echoed, like stones falling
into a valley, and every throat bore it back again—‘We follow the
Sherif! Allah protect the life of our master!’ Then the Imam of Teledi
mounted on the wall and pointed over the falling hills. ‘That way lie
the Christians, and it is _your_ way; but the man who leads you is
Sultan of the Jehad!’”[95]
Raisuli’s voice rang in momentary triumph. Then he was silent. Menebbhe
gripped my arm and would not let me speak. . . . It was much later that
the Sherif, rousing himself with an effort which was apparent,
continued, “In this manner I was proclaimed the leader of the Holy War
against the Christians, and it is against the echoes of that night that
the Spaniards fight today in the Riff. When the Ulema had finished
speaking, sound roared up the mountain like flames in a wind. Men
laughed and sang, shouted and prayed, and nobody knew what his neighbour
was saying. A single shot rose above the voices, and instantly every
rifle spoke. It was the voice of the mountain again, thundering her
challenge against the threat of the Christians. When the shots
ceased—and this was after a long time, for some were slow and some were
far away, but all would swear their loyalty by the oath of lead—a Sheikh
of Sumata spoke: ‘Your bullets are for the Christians. Do not waste them
even before Allah.’ Then I mounted and would have ridden down a little
way, but my horse stepped on men’s bodies, for the tribesmen threw
themselves before me.” Again there was silence. A bee blundered against
the curtain, buzzing, and, from outside, came the shrill, thin sound of
a pipe. “You are greatly honoured,” whispered Badr ed Din. “I have never
heard the Sherif talk of that day, nor has he ever spoken in this manner
before.”