Between 1921 and 1926, the Rif War turned northern Morocco into one of the major anti-colonial battlegrounds of the interwar period. Initially fought against Spanish colonial expansion, the conflict escalated after 1925 when France intervened alongside Spain. The war ended in 1926 following large-scale Franco-Spanish military cooperation and the systematic use of chemical weapons against the Riffian population.[1] More than a regional colonial conflict, however, the Rif War became an international event that attracted the attention of journalists, intellectuals, diplomats, anti-colonial activists, and political observers across Europe, the Islamic world, Asia, Africa, and the Americas.
This international visibility was closely tied to the political strategy of the Riffian leader Mohammed ben Abdelkrim al-Khattabi (1882–1963), better known as Abdelkrim. Although primarily remembered as a military commander, Abdelkrim also recognized the importance of diplomacy, international communication, and public opinion in the struggle against colonial rule. In his view, anti-colonial resistance had to be fought not only on the battlefield, but also in the spheres of international law, political legitimacy, and moral authority. Through letters to foreign governments, interviews with journalists, diplomatic initiatives, and appeals to organizations such as the League of Nations, he framed the Riffian struggle as part of a broader debate on colonialism, sovereignty, and justice. In doing so, he engaged in a deliberate form of impression management, presenting the Rif Republic as a legitimate, civilized, and politically organized entity worthy of international recognition. By shaping foreign perceptions of the Riffian resistance, Abdelkrim sought to counter colonial portrayals of the Riffians as “tribal” or “barbaric” and instead portrayed the movement as modern, rational, and grounded in principles of self-determination and sovereignty.
This article argues that Abdelkrim should be understood not only as a military strategist, but also as a political thinker and international actor who articulated a sophisticated critique of the colonial international order. His interventions reveal three interconnected dimensions of anti-colonial politics during the Rif War. First, he developed an early form of public diplomacy on behalf of the Rif Republic, which functioned as a proto-state seeking international legitimacy despite lacking formal recognition. Second, he challenged the colonial “civilizing mission” used by European powers to justify imperial domination, reversing accusations of barbarism by presenting colonial violence itself as fundamentally uncivilized. Third, his engagement with the League of Nations reflected a broader critique of the post-First World War international order. Although the League presented itself as a guarantor of peace and collective security, Abdelkrim and his supporters increasingly viewed it as structurally incapable of protecting colonized peoples from imperial aggression.
This critique resonated across Europe, the Islamic world, and South America. In countries such as Argentina, Brazil, Chile, and Peru, intellectuals, journalists, and political activists interpreted the Rif War through the lens of their own experiences with imperialism and foreign intervention. Newspapers and political journals frequently portrayed Abdelkrim as a symbol of anti-colonial resistance and national dignity. The Rif War thus became part of a wider transnational debate on colonialism, sovereignty, and the unequal foundations of the international order.
Drawing on a wide range of primary sources, including Abdelkrim’s correspondence with diplomats, journalists, and the League of Nations, this article reconstructs his conceptions of civilization, sovereignty, and political legitimacy. Situating Abdelkrim within a broader anti-colonial intellectual history, it re-evaluates him as both a political thinker and a major critic of colonialism whose ideas continue to resonate in contemporary debates on international law, global governance, and postcolonial relations.
In an era of limited communication technologies, Abdelkrim relied on a broad network of intermediaries to project the Riffian struggle beyond the battlefield. He made use of rakkās[2], couriers who transported letters and official documents on foot, as well as journalists, merchants, sympathizers, and foreign visitors travelling between the Rif and the outside world.[3] Through these networks, information about the war circulated internationally and transformed the Rif War into a powerful anti-colonial symbol.
The significance of these efforts becomes clearer when placed within the broader history of Morocco’s incorporation into the European colonial order. During the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Morocco came under growing military, economic, and diplomatic pressure from European powers with overwhelming industrial and technological advantages. Its geopolitical position was further weakened by colonial expansion in neighbouring regions, especially French Algeria. This process culminated in the Treaty of Fez of 1912, through which the Moroccan sultan accepted French protectorate rule. Parallel agreements between France and Spain granted Spain control over northern Morocco, including the Rif.
These arrangements, however, did not reflect broad local consent. Particularly in the Rif and the Atlas Mountains, colonial intervention generated sustained resistance among communities that regarded the protectorate system as an externally imposed political order lacking legitimacy. This perception was later articulated by Abdelkrim himself. In a 1926 interview, he declared:
“We have not invited you into the Riff, neither you French nor the Spaniards. We had been living, badly commanded perhaps, badly directed, badly governed, but we had the satisfaction of being free. You have drawn up between yourselves treaties dividing up our country, based on the fiction that we were subjects of the Sultan and had only to submit. You thus disposed of us as if we did not exist.”[4]
With this statement, Abdelkrim not only problematizes the legal foundations of the protectorate, but also the underlying assumption that the Riffian population could simply be subjected to external agreements between European powers and the sultan. His words underscore a fundamental tension between formal sovereignty and de facto autonomy, and make clear that the colonial reordering of Morocco was not recognized as legitimate by local actors.
Figure 1 Rakkās in the service of Mohammed ben Abdelkrim al-Khattabi, photographed with French officials, date unknown. Private archives of the author. The outbreak of the Rif War in 1921, nine years after the establishment of the protectorate, is directly linked to Spain’s attempt to consolidate and expand its control over the region. Until then, that control had remained fragmentary, partly due to persistent local resistance and the geopolitical instability of the First World War (1914–1918). Although the Ottoman-German alliance during that war attempted to incite resistance in Morocco, including from the Rif - where Abdelkrim and his father were involved - these efforts did not lead to lasting results.[5]
In the years before the Rif War, Abdelkrim adopted a pragmatic position by serving in several roles within the Spanish administration in Melilla. There he acquired not only fluency in Spanish, but also insight into the political, military, and cultural structures of the European powers. This experience later enabled him to understand the logic, strengths, and weaknesses of the colonial system and to challenge it effectively.
His distrust of Spanish intentions nevertheless grew as Spanish troops advanced into the central Rif to complete their colonial occupation. For Abdelkrim, who emerged as the leader of the resistance, this marked a decisive turning point. As he later stated, the Spaniards brought their “civilization” not with textbooks, but with rifles - a sharp critique of colonial civilizing rhetoric.[6] In June 1921, the Rif War broke out. Within weeks, Riffian forces liberated most of the eastern Rif, despite years of Spanish military and administrative efforts to secure the region. These victories, culminating in the Battle of Annual, quickly attracted international attention.
The Rif War soon acquired a significance that extended far beyond Morocco. Anti-colonial movements across the world identified with Abdelkrim’s resistance. Le Paria, the newspaper founded by Ho Chi Minh, devoted considerable attention to the war. The Senegalese anti-imperialist activist Lamine Senghor captured its symbolic importance when he wrote: “From all corners of the world, the colonized peoples see in Abdelkrim’s victory the star that will lead them to their liberation.”[7]
After a summer of successful military engagements, around November 1921 Abdelkrim sought contact with several so-called “civilized” nations, including France, Great Britain, and the United States.[8] With this diplomatic step, he aimed to clarify internationally the nature of the Rif War and the abuses allegedly committed by the Spanish authorities. He addressed letters to their representatives in Tangier, in which he emphasized that the Riffian tribes were not opposed to modernization or progress, but were resisting colonial oppression: “
“In the name of humanity we appeal to you, Oh men of the whole world, and, in order that you may inform the entire civilised world, we desire to state that these Riff tribes are not opposed to the spirit of civilisation, nor do they combat it by force so long as it accords with the Islamic religion.”
In his letter, he stated that the Spaniards were abusing the honour and freedom of the people under the pretext of the protectorate granted to them during the Algeciras Conference (1906). What was presented as a humanitarian and order-establishing mandate, he argued, had become a system of oppression and military domination. Spain was therefore, in his view, entirely unfit to fulfil this role. He stressed that Riffian resistance did not arise from hostility toward “civilization,” but from opposition to tyranny, violence, and colonial arrogance.
Abdelkrim goes on to state that the Riffian population had long hoped that injustices would cease, but that in practice oppression had only increased. Ultimately, they were therefore compelled to take up arms in order to defend their existence, despite their military inferiority. Meanwhile, he had formed an independent government that guarantees freedom of movement and trade. He also emphasizes that the Riffians are not opposed to the establishment of schools, nor to cooperation with foreign powers that contribute to infrastructure, communication, and peaceful relations.
At the same time, he places responsibility on Europe, which, in his view, failed to foresee that entrusting the mandate to Spain would result in abuse of power and systematic violations of rights. In this context, he explicitly refers to the use of destructive weapons against the Riffian population. Despite this violence, he states that Riffian fighters treat Spanish prisoners correctly, in stark contrast to the use of dumdum bullets, asphyxiating gases, artillery bombardments, and aerial bombing by Spanish forces.[9] He acknowledges that the Riffians abhor war, but that they refuse to live in humiliation. Should the conflict ultimately be lost, Europe, in his view, bears part of the responsibility, as it refused to intervene or to provide an alternative mandate that could have enabled stability and self-government. Finally, he requests that these statements be brought to the attention of the League of Nations.
The League of Nations, established in 1919 in Geneva after the First World War, functioned as a supranational organization aimed at promoting collective security, international cooperation, and the prevention of future large-scale wars. Within this idealistic context, characterized by a strong belief in diplomacy and a multilateral order, Abdelkrim seeks to engage with the rhetoric of the international community by appealing to the so-called “civilized” nations and their institutions.
Despite his attempts to reach France, Great Britain, and the United States, his appeal appears to have been ignored. British archival records show that there was little inclination to engage with the substance of his letters, and instead they advised informing the Spanish authorities.[10] This response illustrates the reluctance of European powers to intervene directly in the conflict or to question Spain’s position. During the same period, Abdelkrim also addressed Sultan Moulay Youssef, indicating that he sought mediation rather than unlimited escalation.[11] In his appeal, he asked the sultan to intervene in the conflict between the Riffians and the Spaniards:
“We shall continue the war until the European nations have judged our cause. Through His Majesty we address our pleas to these nations, because we consider ourselves part of (…) Morocco, of which You, the Sultan and supreme leader, officially recognized by the great powers, are the head, with the aim of freeing us from the treacherous hands of this criminal nation.”
Abdelkrim also attempted to reach the League of Nations directly through his British contact, John Arnall. In a letter entitled To the Civilised Nations, he explained that he had already informed representatives in Tangier about Spanish conduct, but doubted whether his complaints had reached the League.[12] He therefore renewed his appeal in sharper language. Spain, he argued, claimed to bring civilization to the Rif, but its actions suggested otherwise. He asked:
“Does reform consist in destroying homes through the use of prohibited weapons, in interfering in religion, or in usurping the rights of others? Or is it a cover for the annexation of someone’s land under the guise of protection?”
According to Abdelkrim, Spain invoked its European identity to legitimize its mission while behaving more like a conquering force than a civilizing power. Once again, he stressed that the Riffians did not reject modernity, reform, or economic cooperation with Europe. If the “civilized” nations intervened justly, this would prove that their claims to humanity and civilization were sincere. Otherwise, he warned, it would become clear “that Europe only means to fight against the whole Islamic world, with no matter what weapons or in what ways.”
The Rif War was arguably one of the first colonial conflicts in which the double standards of the League of Nations were exposed and criticized in real time by a colonized actor. Abdelkrim’s interventions therefore anticipate later and better-known critiques of the League, most famously those of Emperor Haile Selassie of Ethiopia in 1936, placing him more than a decade earlier within a broader tradition of anti-colonial critique of collective security’s failure to protect colonized peoples.
When Abdelkrim uses the concept of “ḥaḍāra” (civilization) in his letters, it should not be read as a contrast between a supposedly “civilized” Europe and a “backward” Rif or Morocco. On the contrary, his intellectual formation within the Islamic scholarly tradition of the al-Qarawiyyin University in Fez is crucial in this regard. Within this context, knowledge was not approached from a sense of cultural inferiority, butinferiority but embedded in a centuries-old tradition of legal, theological, and philosophical reflection. In this intellectual milieu, to which his teacher Mohammed ben Jaafar al-Kettani also belonged, there existed a strong historical awareness of one’s own intellectual continuity and political traditions in Morocco and the wider Maghreb.[13] Against this background, Abdelkrim’s use of “civilization” refers not to hierarchy, but to a program of reform and modernization.
This program included the construction of infrastructure such as roads and communication networks, the reform of education, and the creation of administrative and economic institutions. In this sense, “civilization” is not a ranking of peoples, but a practical project of order, stability, and progress in a changing world. In a 1925 appeal to all Muslims in Morocco, Abdelkrim clarifies his project and intentions as follows:
“Our only aim, the aim we pursue, is to drive the enemy out of the land of the Muslims and to carry out reforms, both material and moral, in order to rebuild the ruins of the past and revive the glory of our ancestors. This would not be an impossible task for the men and thinkers of Morocco, if they were to rise as one and act, in word and deed, in the direction that would make this hope a reality.”[14]
The objective, then, is the restoration of Morocco’s former glory. This interpretation is further reinforced by his later intellectual positioning. In the preface to the work of the anti-colonial militant and advocate of Maghrebi unity, Aly el-Hammamy, Abdelkrim pays tribute to major figures from the Maghrebi and broader Islamic intellectual tradition, including Ibn Khaldun, Ibn Battuta, Ibn Tumart, and Ibn Rushd.[15] By invoking these thinkers, he situates himself within a long genealogy of knowledge production and political reflection, thereby fundamentally relativizing and historically undermining the European monopoly on the concept of “civilization.”
During the Rif War, Abdelkrim repeatedly sought to confront European powers, particularly France and Spain, with their own claims to “civilization.” After the outbreak of war with France in 1925, for example, he discussed this European civilizing rhetoric with A. Montagne, to which he had once attached a certain degree of “belief.”[16] In that conversation, he stated:
"We saw the European countries as lands of law and order, enjoying a liberty and justice, a comfort, a science, which we could only admire. And we, poor little tribes, incapable of keeping peace even among ourselves, felt very puny and feeble beside your great peoples.”
He continued this line of reasoning by identifying the experience of the First World War as a turning point:
“Then came the World War, and we saw the nations of Europe plunged in madness, and the wisest and strongest of them employing all their intelligence, all their science, all their industrial capacity to creating greater weapons to destroy more men. We have not known, here in our little Moroccan war, a tenth of the horrors you have experienced in Europe. Think of the atrocities committed in Europe, the rage for destruction, the incessant production of arms ever more powerful and more murderous. Think of the poison gasses, the bombardment of undefended towns, the liquid fire. We can no longer respect your 'civilization' as we once did.”
His emphasis on order, reform, and technological development can, in this context, hardly be reduced to mere rhetoric, but should rather be understood as a genuine response to the structural challenges facing the Rif. At the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth century, the region, and Morocco more broadly, was only marginally integrated into processes of industrial and technological modernization. Historically, the Rif during this period was characterized by a weak institutional infrastructure and a fragmented political order, a situation that was later described in local memory as a period of disorder and instability.[17]
Against this background, from 1921 onward, with the outbreak of the war, Abdelkrim sought to establish a form of political centralization and order within the Riffian context through the creation of his own administration and the application of Islamic legal principles. In his discourse, these elements are presented as necessary conditions for stability and self-determination. The recognition he expresses in conversations with European actors of certain aspects of European technological and institutional development should therefore not be read as uncritical admiration, but as a strategic positioning within a fundamentally unequal international power system.
This combination of local governance, ambitions for modernization, and anti-colonial struggle did not remain confined to the Rif itself, but quickly gained broader international resonance. Abdelkrim’s resistance found particular resonance in South America among intellectuals and political actors who themselves, directly or through historical memory, shared the experience of Spanish colonial domination. This shared colonial legacy created a transcontinental parallel, in which local struggles for independence were interpreted as part of a broader global anti-colonial movement.
This historical resonance is clearly reflected in a letter by Abdelkrim from 1924, which was published in several South American newspapers on the occasion of the centenary of the Battle of Ayacucho.[18] This battle, which took place in 1824 in present-day Peru, marked a turning point in the Spanish American wars of independence. The army of the independence fighters, led by Antonio José de Sucre, decisively defeated the Spanish forces, thereby largely bringing an end to Spain’s military and political dominance in South America.
By referring to Ayacucho, Abdelkrim situates his own struggle within a broader transcontinental framework of anti-colonial resistance. The battle thus functions not only as a historical reference point, but also as a symbolic anchor for the possibility of successful decolonization. In this reading, Ayacucho becomes a paradigm of imperial retreat, in which European power is not presented as self-evident or permanent, but as historically bounded and ultimately defeatable. Abdelkrim positions his conflict with Spain within this genealogy of independence struggles, in which Latin American emancipation serves both as a precedent and as a source of inspiration for contemporary anti-colonial movements elsewhere in the world.
Abdelkrim’s letter on the occasion of the commemoration of Ayacucho likely evoked strong emotions in South America, as is evident from the reactions of intellectuals in the region. The Peruvian thinker Haya de la Torre aligned himself with Abdelkrim in his writings.[19] In an article entitled “The Murder of a People,” published after France became involved in the Rif War, he wrote:
“By supporting the Spanish crime, French imperialism brutally murders a people before the eyes of an indifferent world. Christian civilization looks on with indifference at one of the most outrageous expressions of European imperialist cruelty in recent history. French militarism has withdrawn from the Ruhr in order to invade the Rif. It is merely a shift of front and a reorientation of the attack against a people even more defenceless than postwar Germany. France - the glorious France of Liberty and Justice - acts with the same brutality and the same injustice as the Kaiser’s armies during the invasion of Belgium. But the invasion of Belgium provoked a cry of horror throughout the world because it was a ‘civilized’ country. The invasion of Morocco, by contrast, provokes no protest, because it is said to be a ‘barbarous’ country. The suffering of the Belgian people is identical to that of the Moorish people. But within capitalist morality, it was proper to be outraged at the invasion of Belgium, and it is proper to remain silent about the invasion of Morocco.”
In doing so, Haya de la Torre, in line with Abdelkrim, questions the moral legitimacy of European civilization and its selective sense of justice. He then situates Abdelkrim’s struggle within a broader global and anti-imperialist context, in which Morocco becomes a symbol rather than an isolated case. The Rif War is presented as part of a wider reality in which colonized peoples repeatedly face invasion and oppression. As he writes:
“But there is Morocco as a symbol. It is the Río de la Plata facing the English invasion; Peru and Chile facing the Spanish invasion; Mexico facing the French invasion; Cuba, Central America, Panama, and Santo Domingo facing American invasion. Morocco is nothing more than a repetition of our past and an announcement of our future. The greatness of Bolívar, of Hidalgo, of San Martín, the greatness of our leaders, can it be denied to Abd-El-Krim, champion of his people?”
From this perspective, Morocco is part of a recurring global pattern of imperial domination. Haya de la Torre places Abdelkrim within a broader tradition of anti-imperial struggle, alongside figures such as Bolívar, Hidalgo, and San Martín, framing the Rif War as both a continuation of earlier colonial experiences in the Americas and a warning of their possible future repetition.
The Argentine intellectual Alfredo L. Palacios also positions himself on Abdelkrim’s side.[20] He emphasizes that the Arab-Islamic world, particularly through its presence in medieval Spain, played an essential role in the transmission of knowledge that was later presented as the foundation of European “civilization.” At the same time, he formulates a sharp critique of the League of Nations, which he considers morally inconsistent in its stance toward the Rif War. Although he initially welcomed the organization’s creation as a step toward international justice, he argues that in practice it had become an instrument that legitimized the interests of colonial powers, rather than upholding its original ideals of peace, equality, and collective security.
This critical attitude toward the League of Nations was not limited to Abdelkrim and Latin American intellectuals; it was also present within the Islamic world. Abul Kalam Azad, chairman of the Central Khilafa Committée Bombay, for instance, sent a telegram to the League of Nations in which he raised fundamental questions about its actual role.[21] While emphasizing his trust in God, he questioned whether the League truly functioned as a guardian of freedom and a protector of small nations - as it claimed - or rather as a collaboration of Christian European great powers aimed at dividing Eastern territories among themselves. According to Azad, the way in which the League of Nations responded to the aggression of France and Spain against the Riffians would ultimately determine which of these interpretations corresponded to reality.
In South America, a support committee was established during the Rif War to defend the Rif. On behalf of this committee, the Sudanese Ahmed Hassan Mattar sent a letter to the League of Nations, stating that the leader of the Riffian resistance enjoyed esteem and trust not only in Morocco, but throughout the Islamic world.[22] He rejected the portrayal of Abdelkrim and his people as “barbarians” as colonial propaganda aimed at delegitimizing their struggle. According to Mattar, it was in fact the French who behaved as barbarians:
“France claims to be the guardian of humanity and culture. But this is merely a cover for the annexation of the Rif and other lands. (…) And if France sees itself as a guardian of humanity and culture, then it can demonstrate this in a peaceful manner and truly become the greatest guardian of humanity and culture. The spread of culture is not achieved through wars, not through the slaughter of the elderly, women and children, by dropping bombs, poison gas, and burning down villages and other places. France must surely know this.”
He emphasizes that the League of Nations bears a great responsibility toward humanity, yet has completely failed in this Moroccan matter - because it remained silent about the bloodshed in the Rif. Nevertheless, he calls upon the League of Nations to:
1. Immediately put an end to the actions of the French and the Spaniards and spare the poor, unarmed, justice-seeking people of the Rif.
2. Through the mediation of the League of Nations, bring the warring parties to peaceful negotiations and recognize the right of this freedom-loving people to exist as an independent state.
3. Urge France and Spain to remedy their violations of international law and human rights, and not to obstruct medical assistance.
That the Rif was capable of self-government was something Abdelkrim sought to demonstrate from the very beginning of the war through concrete institutional and administrative reforms. He established a central government, set up an organized administration, and put an end to the previous political fragmentation and local anarchy. At the same time, he took steps toward material state-building by promoting the development of basic infrastructure, including roads, an airstrip, and a telephone network.
In addition, he developed a form of diplomatic representation by sending delegates to European countries, with the aim of drawing international attention to the Riffian cause while also obtaining practical resources and supplies. In this way, he sought to achieve both external recognition and internal consolidation of his authority. In 1925, at the height of the war against France, he travelled by car to the French front to visit his fighters in combat, highlighting his direct leadership and his emphasis on mobility and modern organization in the Riffian state-building project.[23]
When the American journalist Paul Scott Mowrer visited Abdelkrim in 1924, Abdelkrim told him that they already had telephones and were actively engaged in building roads. According to Abdelkrim, this was only the beginning: “When you come back again to Ajdir[24], you will see a modern city, like London – New York!”[25] A year later, he told the Italian journalist Mirko Ardemagni that the Rif had drawn such lessons from the war that it now considered itself fully capable of governing itself. In the major European capitals - among them Geneva, Paris, and London - to which he had repeatedly sent his representatives, the rapid progress of their movement, he claimed, could not go unnoticed.[26]
Figure 2 Mohammed ben Abdelkrim al-Khattabi, on his way to the front in his car. Illustrirte Zeitung, 30 August 1925.Figure3. Three representatives of Abdelkrim in Paris. Le Journal, 30 January 1922.Figure 4 A Riffian delegation in London. The Muslim Standard, 7 September 1922. The photograph was previously published by Yahya Birt.The international efforts of Abdelkrim continued unabated until the end of his struggle, and he remained critical of the European civilizing narrative. On 27 January 1926, he sent a letter to the correspondent of The London Times in Tangier. According to him, this letter was “in the interest of truth,” since that truth was being distorted by “the enemies of humanity.”[27] He stated that he sought only justice and peace, but that whenever he was willing to extend a hand, his opponents - the Spaniards and the French - accused him of weakness. According to them, the Riffians were the weaker party in the war and sought peace only because they no longer had the power or means to continue the struggle. He found it ironic that, when he chose instead to continue the fighting and abandon the idea of peace, he was immediately accused of barbarism.
In South America, support for Abdelkrim was not limited to the verbal solidarity of an intellectual elite. On 30 March 1926, the two Bolivians Luis V. Céspedes and Moisés Jimenes voluntarily offered their services to Abdelkrim, whom they described as a “very courageous libertarian.” More specifically, they wrote:
“Since the attitude of France and Spain deeply outrages us, we have firmly resolved to travel to your territory in order to join your side and fight courageously for the cause of Morocco’s freedom.”[28]
Should Abdelkrim accept their proposal, they requested that he send them instructions and, if possible, geographical maps indicating how they could enter the Rif, so that they might place themselves at his disposal as quickly as possible.
The Bolivians were by no means the only ones to entertain such ideas. The French archives contain dozens of similar letters, including correspondence from Germans who, in the aftermath of the First World War, regarded France as a common enemy. This should moreover be situated within a broader historical context. During the First World War, a German–Ottoman alliance attempted to organize a large-scale armed uprising against the French Protectorate from the non-occupied territories of the Spanish Protectorate. Emir Abdelmalek, son of the renowned Algerian resistance leader Emir Abdelkader, played an important role in these efforts. The al-Khattabi family also joined these initiatives.[29]
Nevertheless, these efforts - international appeals for solidarity and condemnations of the Spanish-French intervention - remained largely without effect. The outcome of the war was not determined in the diplomatic arena, but on the battlefield, in a manner difficult to reconcile with the professed values of “civilization.” Large-scale bombardments of villages and civilian populations, as well as the systematic use of chemical weapons from the air, underscored the violent reality of the conflict. In this sense, the Rif War exposes the tension between rhetoric and practice: “civilization” proves to be a flexible and politically instrumental concept, whose meaning diverges sharply from the actual actions of colonial actors.
In 1926, Abdelkrim ultimately surrendered to the French. He was exiled, together with his family, including his brother and uncle, to the island of Réunion in the Indian Ocean. On the eve of his departure, he was interviewed in Casablanca by a United Press correspondent. Notably, he spoke relatively mildly about France in this conversation, while directing sharp criticism at Spain - possibly a strategic choice given his situation under French custody. Regarding Spain’s role, he stated: “They have sown seeds of everlasting hatred by bombardments of villages and the use of poison gas.”[30]
More than twenty years later, in 1947, Abdelkrim managed to escape during a transfer to France and reached Egypt. In the aftermath of the Second World War, Egypt had become an important political and intellectual center for anti-colonial movements from the Arab-Islamic world. There, he was free enough to articulate his ideas openly. He called for the independence of the entire Maghreb (Morocco, Algeria, and Tunisia) and expressed support for anti-colonial movements worldwide, from Africa to Asia and Latin America.
By then, the League of Nations had been dissolved and replaced by the United Nations, which once again articulated the ambition to guarantee international peace and cooperation. Shortly after his arrival in Egypt, Abdelkrim told the British journalist Nina Epton that he was willing to act as a “peaceful ambassador” in the struggle for Maghrebi independence.[31] At the same time, he warned that he would again assume the role of military and strategic leader if diplomacy failed and the case - now brought before the United Nations - was ignored by the dominant powers in the region. “But I hope,” he added, “that it will be possible to negotiate; it would be more civilized.” According to Epton, there was irony in his voice when he used the word “civilized” - a nuance difficult to separate from his experiences during the Rif War, in which extreme forms of violence were justified in the very name of civilization.
His words about “civilized” negotiations would ultimately achieve little. The struggle for independence would once again turn into armed conflict. Shortly after his arrival in Egypt, Abdelkrim already began preparing for this struggle. He sent Maghrebi students to military academies in, among others, Iraq and Syria, where they were trained in preparation for the liberation of North Africa. However, it did not remain limited to training alone: he also actively deployed them in the anticolonial struggle. The influence of Abdelkrim on the liberation and independence of the Maghreb still deserves in-depth historical study.
In 1956, Morocco and Tunisia gained their independence. Abdelkrim, however, considered these to be “pseudo-independences,” because this strategy allowed France to fully focus on Algeria, the colony it was determined to retain for as long as possible. A few months before his death, in 1962, he nevertheless witnessed the independence of Algeria — a country in which he had always believed.
During his exile in Egypt (1947–1963), Abdelkrim attracted intellectuals, journalists, and anti-colonial fighters from across the world, who came to Cairo to seek his counsel and draw inspiration from him. Among them were also frequent visitors from Latin America. Abdelkrim served not only as a military model, but also as a profound moral and intellectual inspiration to many of them. Reflecting on the Rif War in his memoirs, Fidel Castro later wrote:
“Later, in the twenties, Franco took part in a colonial war, in Morocco, in which the army had massive casualties. There was one battle, at Annual, in which Spain lost over 3,000 men. I've read the whole history of that war.”[32]
Furthermore, he stated that the guerrilla techniques that Che Guevara learned from Alberto Bayo were based on Abdelkrim’s tactics:
“Che attended all those classes in tactics. Bayo said he was his best student. They both played chess, so every night, there in the camp where they were before the arrests, they'd play chess every night. Bayo never went beyond teaching what a guerrilla fighter should do to break through a perimeter when he's surrounded, on the basis of his experience of the times Abd el-Krim's Moroccans, in the war in the Rif, broke through the Spanish lines that encircled them. He didn't formulate a strategy, however; it never occurred to him that guerrilla fighters might become an army, and that that army might defeat the other army - which was our essential idea.”[33]
Abdelkrim ultimately died on 6 February 1963. He had devoted his entire life to the struggle for freedom and independence. On the occasion of his death, the Argentine magazine Vea y Lea published an extensive article on 28 February in which his life was commemorated and analysed.[34] The author of this article, Raul Jassen, was on several occasions in a position to meet Abdelkrim. According to Jassen, Abdelkrim often drew parallels between his own struggle and that of the Argentine independence fighter Martín Miguel de Güemes. He is said to have remarked: “I know Argentine history well and I am aware that there are great similarities between you and us.”
Despite the geographical distance and differences in religion and language, these fighters recognised each other’s situations as a form of shared colonial oppression. This recognition formed the basis for a sense of mutual solidarity. Abdelkrim built on the experiences of South American independence movements, while later South American revolutionaries in turn drew renewed inspiration from his struggle.
Bibliography
Archives
Belgium
Private archive of Yassin Akouh (author), Antwerp
France
Archives nationales de France (AN), Paris
Centre des Archives diplomatiques de Nantes (CADN), Nantes
Switzerland
League of Nations Archives, Genève
United Kingdom
The National Archives, Kew
Books
Akouh, Yassin. Koloniale vloek: de relaties tussen de Marokkaanse staat en de Rif. Antwerpen/Amsterdam: Houtekiet, 2025.
al-Kettani, Mohammed ben Jaafar. Naṣīḥah ʾAhl ul-Islām: Tahlīl islāmī ʿilmī liʿawāmil suqūt ad dawlah al-islāmiyyah waʿawāmil nuhūḍihā. Rabat: Maktabat Badr, 1989.
Balfour, Sebastian. Deadly Embrace: Morocco and the Road to the Spanish Civil War. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002.
Boum, Aomar., & Boum-Mendoza, Madjouline. The last Rekkas. Casablanca: Langages du Sud, 2024.
Castro, Fidel., & Ramonet, Ignacio. My Life. London: Penguin Books, 2008.
Delatorre, Haya. Por la emancipacion de America Latina: Artículos, Mensajes, Discursos (1923-1927). Buenos Aires: M. Gleizer – Editor, 1927.
de Oteyza, Luis. Abd-el-krim y los prisioneros. A Coruña: Ediciones del Viento, 2018.
el-hammamy, Aly. Idris: roman nord-africain. Algiers: Sociéte Nationale d’Edition et de Diffusion, 1977.
Epton, Nina. Journey Under the Crescent Moon. Djakarta: Penerbitan Timun Mas, 1954.
Hart, David Montgomery. The Aith Waryaghar of the Moroccan Rif: An Ethnography and History. Tuscon: University of Arizona Press, 1976.
Kunz, Rudibert & Müller, Rolf-Dieter Müller. Giftgas gegen Abd el Krim: Deutschland, Spanien und der Gaskrieg in Spanisch-Marokko 1922-1927. Freiburg: Verlag Rombach, 1990.
Mowrer, Paul Scott. The House of Europe. Cambridge: the Riverside Press, 1945.
Tahtah, Mohamed. Entre pragmatisme, réformisme et modernisme: le rôle politico-religieux des Khattabi dans le Rif (Maroc) jusqu’à 1926. Leuven: Peeters Publishers, 1999.
Villain, Jean. Fellah ohne Faruk: eine Ägyptenreise. Berlin: Aufbau Verlag, 1958.
Newspapers and magazines
Illustrirte Zeitung
Anonymous. (1925, 30 August). Bei Abd-el-krim: Aufnahmen eines amerikanischen Berichterstatters, der durch die französischen Linien ins Lager der Rifkabylen gelangte. Illustrirte Zeitung, 35, p. 1093-1094.
Il Popolo d’Italia
Ardemagni, Mirko. (1925, 16 June). L’offensiva riffana nel Marocco: Abd el Krim asserisce a un nostro inviato che egli, volendo, sarebbe già a Fez. Il Popolo d’Italia, 11(142), p. 2.
Le Paria
Senghor, Lamine. (1925, June-July). Les Riffains ne sont pas seuls! Ils ont avec eux le monde des opprimés. Le Paria, p. 1.
Renovacion
Abdelkrim. (1924, December). Mensaje de Abd-El-Krim a los pueblos de la América Latina en el centenario de Ayacucho. Renovacion, p. 1.
Palacios, Alfredo Lorenzo. (1925, September-October). Abd-el-krim. Renovacion, p. 2.
Richmond Planet
Ybarra, Thomas Russell. (1926, 20 March). War in Morocco. Richmond Planet, p. 4.
The New York Times
Special Correspondent. (1926, 25 April). ABD-EL-KRIM TELLS OF HOPE FOR PEACE. The New York Times.
The San Diego Sun
United Press. (1926, 4 September). Spain Will Never Conquer Riff, Says Exiled Chieftain: Abd El Krim Declares Bombardments and Use of Poison Gas Have Caused Undying Hatred. The San Diego Sun, 13418, p. 14.
Vea y Lea
Jassen, Raul. (1963, 28 February). El ultimo gran jefe de caballeria. Vea y Lea, 407, p. 46-49.