PEACE AGAIN WITH SPAIN
“When Tazrut was first shelled,” said Raisuli, “there were many who were
terrified and would have fled, but I ordered that no one should leave
the town, and set guards on the hillside above it. It was summer, and
still there was no news from the East. I had made all preparations for
leaving the Zawia and already ammunition and a few stores had been
hidden in different caves in Bu Hashim. It is hospitable, this mountain
of my family, and all my people could take refuge in it in safety. There
are great trees which make roofs against the sun, and streams whose
waters are healing. Allah has provided cliffs that are ramparts against
an enemy, and the earth is full of strange holes and shelters. I have
always kept a reserve force in Bu Hashim, and there, too, I have a few
houses and a prison.
“It was during the bombardment of Tazrut that there was a dispute
between Mulai Ali and the brother of his father.[106] My nephew had been
my best commander throughout the war, for his courage was also in his
head, and his strategies were good.
“In the time of suffering that was long, many of my house had said to
me, ‘The hour for peace has arrived. Send messengers to the Spaniards,’
and there were not few among my women who said it also. When the plaster
fell from our walls and the roofs struck our heads, my relatives would
have fled to Bu Hashim. Disobeying my orders, they crept out at night,
and fell into the hands of the guards. I was very angry when they were
brought back to me, and I said, ‘Since it is only safety you want, you
shall indeed be safe,’ and I sent them to my prison in the hills and put
chains on them and set a guard at the door.
“Then they were sad, and sent messengers to their relative, Mulai Ali,
and begged him to intercede for them, saying that they were old and
their courage had left them. My nephew was then on the east of the
mountain where his flag defended the Ahmas, but he came in six hours to
Tazrut and spent a long time with me, praying and eating. At last he
spoke of the prisoners, and said, ‘They are poor people who are weak and
afraid. This is their only crime against you, and it is unjust that they
should suffer. Have mercy upon them, for Allah has made them miserable,’
and I answered, ‘There is no appeal against my judgment.’
“I should have spoken of the bad example set to the whole country, that
my own household should fly before the Christians, but he was under my
orders, and I was angry that he should argue with me. In the end, he
said, ‘Is this your last word to me, that you will not release them,
though I make myself responsible for their actions?’ ‘No man can bear
the responsibility which belongs to another, and punishment is in the
hands of Allah. He can remit it, but it is written in the Book that men
must suffer justly for their sins.’
“He went out without saluting me, and, from that day, we have never
spoken together in friendship. Mulai Ali rode straight into Bu Hashim,
with his men behind him, and, when they came to the prison, they
overpowered the guards and broke open the doors. The chains of the
prisoners were cut, and they were set free. Some of them went to the
mountains, but others returned to Tazrut after many days. Mulai Ali took
a heavy fetter that had been on the feet of his relative and gave it to
the guard. ‘Go down to the Zawia,’ he ordered, ‘and give this to the
Sherif. Tell him his nephew has sent him a new chain for his watch!’ But
the man was afraid and the message was brought to me later by others.
“I said nothing when I received it, nor did I answer when my family
knelt to me and begged my forgiveness for my nephew. It was soon told me
that Mulai Ali wished to lose his life, and, since suicide is forbidden
in Islam, he placed himself always in the most dangerous places and ran
towards the rifles of the enemy. The ‘baraka’ must be with him, for,
though he exposed himself recklessly, attacking when there was no chance
of success, and showing himself in a white robe when the artillery was
in action, no missile touched him. When I heard of these deeds I sent
some of my own men to join him, ordering them secretly to stand between
him and the enemy. They carried out this duty and made a guard around
Mulai Ali whenever he fought, saving him against his desire.
“When there was talk of peace, and Cerdeira came with Zugasti to see me,
my people said again, ‘Will you not forgive Mulai Ali? He has been the
most faithful and the most courageous.’ I answered no word, though they
renewed their prayers each day, wearying me with their words. At last
Mulai Ali came to the door of my tent and I saw him, but made no
movement. He came in and kissed my sleeve, but I sat in the same
position, without speaking. Then he bent himself before me and took off
his turban and put it under my feet. This is our way of making
submission. For ten minutes, perhaps more, he remained prostrate in
front of me, but I neither looked at him nor spoke. At last he jumped up
and put on his turban. ‘By Allah, I will have no more relations with
you,’ he cried, ‘nor will I ever come into your house as a friend. It is
finished between us’; and he left the tent angrily. After this no one
dared mention his name to me.
“When the war was over, the Spaniards said to me, ‘We want a strong man
in whom you can rely—one who has your complete confidence—to govern the
Jebala,’ and I answered, ‘I have only one such in the country—my nephew,
Mulai Ali.’”
There was a pause, and Badr ed Din murmured behind me, “There is
business between them, and the young man[107] comes to take orders from
his uncle, but neither has made peace with the other.”
The Sherif continued a little more grimly than usual: “In the middle of
the summer (July, 1921), when all men despaired and in every village
they cried that Allah had delivered them into the hands of their enemy,
news came to Tazrut at dusk. The Riff had risen as one man, had broken
through the great Spanish army and poured down to the walls of Melilla.
Many thousand prisoners were in the hands of Abdul Krim. Silvestre,
rushing forward with his usual impetuousness, found himself cut off from
the coast and hemmed in by a triumphant enemy. His desperate eyes saw
nothing but his own dead and the magnitude of his mistake. He shot
himself, amidst the panic which his death rendered ungovernable. Though
he was my enemy, I was sorry, for he was brave.
“All through that night men came to me, discussing the news and asking,
‘How will this affect us?’ I listened to them for a little, and then I
said, ‘Allah has sent this thing to save us. Praise be to him, for it is
just in time.’ They asked, ‘What will be the action of the Spaniards?’
and I told them, ‘Allah alone knows, but one thing is certain. The
Government will soon fall, and there will be a new High Commissioner.’
“For the first time in two years men walked boldly through the
mountains, not fearing an enemy, and I wrote hurriedly to Zellal,
saying, ‘Take this opportunity to send me grain and cartridges.’ Very
soon there arrived a letter from Cerdeira, suggesting that a way should
be found to make peace. I did not reply hurriedly, nor let him know how
urgently needed was the respite. News came that Berenguer had gone to
Melilla and that, with a great army, he was trying to retake the
country. I said, ‘Allah strengthen the hand of Abdul Krim until my
stores are here,’ for I knew Berenguer. If matters went well in the
East, he would not willingly let me escape from his net. For six weeks
there was talk of peace, but, even while Cerdeira wrote letters
imploring me to restrain the tribes who would have attacked Larache and
Azeila, Barera continued his propaganda. ‘Spain has only one enemy,’ he
announced, ‘and that is Raisuli.’
“There was a panic on the coast. The townsmen boarded the first boats in
their efforts to escape the vengeance of the mountaineers, but there was
no danger. There were a few incidents on the borders of Jebel Habib, and
the tribesmen went boldly to the Suqs in armed bands and bought food
under the eyes of the police. When the East winds began,[108] Barera,
reassured by the reports from Melilla, made a sudden advance on Beni
Yusef and, without warning, while the ink was still fresh on their peace
proposals, again there was war.
“The hills beyond Xauen were occupied in the autumn and the main road to
Ahmas was cleared. For so many months there had been fighting among
these hills that each wadi was a graveyard and each ridge had its
history. In the winter[109] Berenguer returned to Tetuan, and I was
surprised, for I thought he would certainly have been recalled. With
fierce energy he pushed on the campaign, and it was told me that he was
like an old man, bent and grey, with but one idea left to him. Suq el
Khemis was taken, and Dris er Riffi made it the base of his campaign
against me. Ullah, some have called me a murderer, but in Beni Aros, my
own land, would there not have been many who would have brought me his
head? Had I wished, there would have been a rifle by his bed, a knife in
his food, for my spies were everywhere.
“For the first months of the new war, we had sufficient food, for many
caravans had come up through Mesauer during the short truce. But that
winter was terrible in the mountains. Almost all the villages had been
destroyed. There were no roofs to shelter the people, who lived in caves
and holes in the ground. The very old and the very young died from
exposure, for there was much rain. The cattle had been almost
exterminated, and the game had grown cunning and retired to the higher
mountains. The wise men said nothing, for there were still ten thousand
prisoners in the Riff, and it was known how Abdul Krim treated them; but
the ignorant reproached me—‘The wisdom of Allah is with thee, Sidi, but
our condition is worse than before. How can we now find safety?’
‘Suffering is from Allah,’ I replied, ‘and by his will, it will end or
it will continue. Allahu Akbar!’ They went away ashamed, but I waited
for the newspapers as women waited for the scarce goat’s milk that might
save their sons. All that time I had the news of Europe from Tangier,
and my agents never failed me.
“Many of my friends were killed in those months, and the list of the
Sheikhs who had been with me from the beginning, those who had seen the
ceremonies of Xauen and Sidi Abd es Salaam, was daily shortened. Hamed
es Succan, my blood brother, of Beni Aros, was shot in the defence of
Afernum, which was taken by a combined attack of three columns, and
Mohamed el Kharaji died in the last skirmishes before Tazrut. As soon as
the slopes of Afernum were lost to us, Jebel Alan could be raked by the
artillery, and it was certain that Tazrut must soon fall.
“I sent all my family into the mountain to Dar el Haik, so called
because the stream falls like the white garments of a woman. There was
one old lady of my relatives who would not move. ‘I have lived all my
life in the Zawia, and I will end it there,’ she said. I went myself to
urge her to go, but she would not be persuaded. The servants came to
her, crying, and saying, ‘Even the cats have left. They are wise
animals, and they have gone ahead of our master to his camp.’ ‘I will
die where I have lived,’ she repeated, and, in truth, she stayed there
through most of the Spanish occupation. They were good to her, giving
her food and all that she asked for, and leaving her room untouched, but
she was a good Moslem, and said, ‘It is Allah who has ordered their
minds.’
“When Tazrut was bombed for the second time, there were few men in the
village, and these hid themselves securely in the holes which they had
made. Everything was destroyed except the Mosque, the Qubba of our
ancestors, and the tree which is the guardian of our house. These are
the most prominent objects in the village, yet not one tile fell from
the madna nor a fleck of plaster from the sanctuary. The walls of my
house were made bare and the roofs torn off the Zawia. The building
which is now made of iron was shattered, and only a few beams stuck out,
as the teeth of those who are old. Where there were no ruins, there were
pits in the heart of the earth, and, in the darkness, a man could not go
two steps in safety. When my women went to Dar el Haik, I sent with them
all my furniture, my carpets and mattresses, with the cushions and the
tea services, and all the brass trays and other goods. Afterwards I sent
my horses and mules, including the tall brown one which Jordana had
given me, but I waited in my house till the last minute, for I knew I
was safe.
“At the height of his success Barera was recalled, and his place taken
by Sanjurjo,[110] who immediately made a determined effort to occupy the
high mountains. There was great fighting in Jebel Feddan at the entrance
to the Ahmas, and many of my people were killed, for they showed
themselves recklessly on the hills, charging the Spanish guns. A
messenger came to me from the famous Zawia of el Teledi, and said, ‘If
this holy place is taken by Spain, it will be the end of the war’; and I
answered, ‘Bring me a map.’ When it came, I pointed out the Spanish
posts one by one, and the messenger, who was a Sheikh of standing,
watched me. ‘How many mountains and valleys are there between these
camps?’ I asked, and he told me such-and-such. . . . Then I said, ‘When
every hill and every wadi is in the hands of Spain, it will not be the
end, for there will still be the rocks and the trees which will fight
for us. Tell this to the Ulema of Teledi. When Allah gives us victory,
then the war will end.’
“Every day in Tazrut could be heard the thunder of artillery either in
the Ahmas behind us or in some mountain below. Aeroplanes flew around Bu
Hashim and dropped bombs, but these were not dangerous, for the steepest
slopes were out of their reach. As a precaution, I divided my mehalla
into small parties, posting them in different parts of the mountain,
where they commanded all the approaches. The tents of my family were
covered with branches, so that they could not be seen among the trees.
There was fierce war in the Ahmas, for still Berenguer and Sanjurjo
dreamed of completing the circle which besieged us. The Valley of
Menzora was occupied, but two hundred Spaniards were killed in that
campaign. At last, in the first months of summer, the enemy advanced to
Tazrut, fighting at every ledge. A curtain of shells heralded their
march, but my people lay snugly among the rocks and waited till the
columns were so near that they could pick off the officers. Many of the
enemy died during the three days of the advance, and I waited in the
Zawia till Sidi Musa should be in their hands.
“Mubarak held my stallion at the further door, and Ghabah stood on a
height to give notice of the Spanish movements. While we waited, a
Sheikh said to me timidly, ‘Insha-allah, we shall not be long in the
mountain?’ and I said to him, ‘How long was the Prophet of God an
outcast? It is an honour that is done to us.’ ‘Is there no talk of
peace, Sidi?’ ‘When Allah wills, the Spaniards will talk of it. There
are still many camps between Tazrut and submission.’ A shot sounded
above us, and we knew it was from Ghabah. As the Spanish outposts
approached the village, we rode quickly up to Bu Hashim, which has
always been the shelter of our race.
“Dris er Riffi moved his office of propaganda to Suq el Khemis, and the
echoes of his eloquence reached me in Bu Hashim. ‘Spain has only one
enemy,’ he repeated, ‘and that is Raisuli.’ The men of Sumata were still
inviolate among their crags, and none of their Kaids would submit, but,
among the other tribes, there were many weak ones who came to me,
afraid. I said to them, ‘Go and make submission to the Christians, if
that is your desire. Fatten your bodies on their grain, but I tell you
the time draws near when the Faithful will be rewarded.’
“I knew that the Government must fall, but its hour was delayed, and we
suffered. There was no flesh in our pots and little grain. The
mountaineers used to bring small gifts, humbly, ashamed of their
insignificance, and I told them of how a man of Medina gave a few dates
to a beggar, and behold it was the Prophet of God, who returned to his
benefactor gardens of palms and all the land that could be seen from
them. Women would bring two eggs or a thin fowl wrapped in their skirts.
Men came with a few figs, or a hare they had shot, but often there was
only a little bread and oil for our meal. A daughter of my house, who
was a child and weak, died on the mountain, and the Spaniards allowed
her body to be buried in the Zawia at Tazrut. In those days my rifle was
idle and my tongue busy, for men came to me at all hours for
reassurance. I said to them always, ‘The time is near,’ but I wondered
whether el Teledi or the Government would fall first.
[Illustration: Gate of Raisuli’s Palace at Azeila. His bailiffs]
“It was the will of Allah that the Zawia should be lost to us.[111] For
many months the Ahmas had defended their sanctuary, and, in the end,
even the students buried their books in a secret place and took up guns
to protect themselves. The ulema fled to the edge of the country,
carrying with them as much of their property as they could save, for
there were interesting documents at Teledi, telling of the first coming
of Islam and the war against the Berbers. Emissaries from Gomara came to
me at this time, begging me to take refuge in their country and lead the
Holy War against the Christians, but I told them that this was not the
will of Allah, and that soon Spain would make peace with us. They
answered, ‘This is a miracle that you speak of, Sidi!’ but I insisted,
‘Before the first snows there will be peace.’ After their visit I sent
down to Beni Aros, to urge the house of Succan to procure me a little
grain, that I might be able to entertain the missions who came to me.
“Before I had expected a reply, Mubarak told me that one Mohamed, the
nephew of my friend, was in my camp. When he had saluted me, I asked
him, ‘What news of my stores?’ and he answered, ‘Sidi, I know not, but
Berenguer has gone to Madrid.’
“Ullah, there was rejoicing that night among my tents, and as there were
no gifts to reward this bearer of good news, the women sent him silks
for his family, and I said to him, ‘When peace is signed, whatever you
ask I will give you.’ After this it was soon known that the Government
had fallen and Berenguer would return no more. From all sides, the
mountaineers came to me, and those who had been faithful I welcomed
gladly, assuring them that, as we had shared the evil, so, under Allah,
we would share the good. To the others I said, ‘Allah deal with your
weakness and reward you as you have deserved.’ Stores soon came to me at
Sellalim, sugar, tea and candles, besides grain to feed the two hundred
who were still with me. For the last weeks I had been moving my camp
from one place to another, because of the aeroplanes which bombarded us,
killing some of my people but leaving my tent and the green standard
untouched. In all the war, the flag of the Prophet was inviolate.
“When the new High Commissioner, Burguete, arrived at Tetuan, his policy
was not known, and there were some of my people who were still anxious;
but, as soon as it was rumoured that Zugasti was with him, the signal
fires leaped on the hills and the tribesmen whispered that the Sherif
was responsible for ‘the miracle.’ The slopes of Bu Hashim were crowded
by those who would kiss my robes, and amulets were cut from the bark of
the trees, which had sheltered my camp.
“News came swiftly. The Riff was declared a civil Protectorate, and my
enemy, Dris er Riffi, was sent there as Governor. Cerdeira wrote asking
me to arrange a meeting, and in due time I appointed the village of
Adiaz, which was in ruins. I sent my servants to prepare a place for the
conference, and they spread carpets and cushions within some walls where
there was still a portion of roof to shade us. Cerdeira and Zugasti
arrived with Castro Giria, all of whom were my friends. I rode down to
meet them on my roan, with a green saddle-cloth embroidered in silver
and the green umbrella of a Sultan carried over my head. All my slaves
went with me, and, behind me, came a hundred warriors with those who had
been my captains, Ueld el Muddan, el Tayeb and el Hartiti.
“One of my cousins prepared the food which Bu Hashim had been ransacked
to produce. There was flesh, but Allah knows what it was, and curdled
milk and pastry with eggs and rice, for in hospitality I was bound to
feed my guests. Ullah, the slaves’ eyes were wet as they watched each
morsel that was eaten!
“We talked till the sunset and I explained the things that I
desired.[112] A month later there was another meeting at Sellalim, where
I had tents pitched for my guests. This time we talked frankly, and I
asked for many conditions—that all my properties should be restored to
me and that my family should be allowed to live in my palace at Azeila,
that Tazrut should be returned to me and that Spain should rebuild the
portions of the Zawia which she had destroyed; that the Governors of the
tribes should be chosen among men of great position who were my friends,
that my army should receive all the pay which they had missed during the
war, for, under Jordana, it had been agreed that certain forces should
be supported by Spain. The delegates told me, ‘These things may be done,
if you will go to Tetuan and make your submission to the Khalifa,’ but I
replied, ‘Neither my policy nor my words can be changed. Raisuli will
never set foot in Tetuan.’
“There was much journeying to the mountains in those days, and I was
hard-pressed between those tribesmen who were fanatical and opposed to
any peace with the Christians and the Spaniards, to whom I said truly,
‘I have always been your friend. I have resisted the armies which you
sent against me, but I have never fought your nation.’ On one occasion
journalists came to see me, and they talked to me at length in my tent.
After they had gone, I said to my servants, ‘Take up the carpets and
carry out all the cushions. Clean them well, for the Christians have
left the dust of their feet upon them.’ This was told afterwards to the
Spaniard who was my friend, and when he protested, I said to him, ‘I did
this thing on purpose, for the sake of the chiefs of Sumata. Do not
think it is easy for me to make peace with you, after you have done us
so much harm. By all means I must keep my influence with the tribes, in
order that your country may benefit by it.’
“The conferences were prolonged through the autumn, but, at last, I
agreed to send the men of my family to Tetuan to visit the Kalipha, and
some months later three hundred of my people rode down to the city.
Among them were many who had been with me on Sidi Abd es Salaam, and
they were led by my nephews, Mulai Ali and Mulai Mustapha. El Mudden
accompanied them, and the Sheikhs of Beni Hosmar, Beni Leit, Beni Ider,
and Beni Aros. All these were received by Mulai el Mehdi, and there was
a great rejoicing at Tetuan.
“In return for this, it was agreed that those Spanish officials who had
persistently worked against me should be withdrawn. Ben Azuz resigned
his post, before it was possible to take it from him, but others of my
enemies were superseded by loyal men who would work with me. The
Spaniards offered to make me Governor of Beni Aros, but I would accept
no post under the Maghsen, saying, ‘I acknowledge and will serve the
Protectorate, as has always been my intention, but the Kalipha can never
have any authority over the mountains.’ I refused also the great sum
they would have paid me, equal to the sustenance of Mulai el Mehdi,
accepting only the pay of one hundred and fifty soldiers who are my
guards. I agreed to disband all my armies, except the small personal
force which I keep in Bu Hashim, and to assist the Spaniards in the
occupation of the whole Jebala.
“I have done this to such good effect that there is scarcely a hill
which has not its camp. They must have at least a hundred and twenty
thousand men in Morocco, though most of these are in the East. My
nephew, Mulai Ali, is the Kaid of Beni Aros and his brother, Mulai
Mustapha, is Governor of Azeila. Burguete fulfilled all his promises,
and el Mudden was made Kaid of Beni Gorfet, el Hamali of Beni Kholot, el
Fahilu of Wadi Ras, for it is necessary that there should be a friend to
protect the communications between Tetuan and Tangier. In this manner
peace was arranged, and it is now the Spanish forces which are
responsible for the security of the country, for I have no soldiers.
Lately, the Government asked me if they could reduce the garrison by a
hundred and fifty posts, and I answered, ‘Not unless you give me back my
Mehallas.’ In spite of this they took away eighty camps, and sometimes
there is a shot in this place, and a man killed in another. That will
always be, for the country will rebel against that which is new, until
the new has become the old.
“If Spain would make an agreement with me, and England would act as
guarantee, there need only be twenty thousand foreign troops in the
country, and I would be responsible for its peace. It is not that I do
not trust Spain, for there is affinity of blood between us, but I have
seen the variability of her policy, and her Governments are of short
duration. A protectorate should be as a wise older brother training the
younger one so that, when he comes of age, he may be rich and powerful,
but not interfering with his ideas and habits. Spain has advanced by
twisted ways, and now civil administration cannot be imposed on the
Jebala with much hope of success, for fear of driving the mountaineers
to the side of the Riff. The Kaids must be responsible for law and order
among the people and, gradually, more and more authority can pass into
the hands of the Maghsen. I said all this to the envoys whom Spain sent
to me, and I told them also, ‘I have no good opinion of Abdul Krim,
because he is fighting against that which is fore-ordained, instead of
trying to benefit by what Allah has sent us.’ But, if Spain does not
stick to one policy and keep faith with me, I shall have to reconsider
my opinion about Abdul Krim.”