On the Road from Morocco

Waving a forest of red flags with green five-pointed stars and shouting praises to the glory of Allah, more than 40,000 enthusiastic Moroccans last Thursday obeyed the order of their King and marched into the Spanish Sahara. In fervor and numbers, the invasion evoked memories of the armies of the Prophet Mohammed embarked on a holy war--or, possibly, a biblical epic staged by Hollywood. By week's end nearly 100,000 of the unarmed marchers, asserting Morocco's claim to the mineral-rich Spanish colony, had moved seven miles across the border and were camped within sight of the euphemistically named dissuasion line--minefields and concertinas of barbed wire installed by the Spanish forces to halt the invaders. As diplomats frantically tried to find a face-saving way to defuse the confrontation and avoid bloodshed, tension mounted.

This long-prepared "Green March" was the bizarre means devised by Morocco's King Hassan II to annex the colony peacefully. Accompanying the marchers was TIME Correspondent Wilton Wynn, who cabled this report:

Leading the marchers across the border was Moroccan Premier Ahmed Osman; with him were several Cabinet ministers, and visiting delegations from Jordan, Saudi Arabia and Gabon. Once inside the Sahara, they stopped at the white-domed outpost at Tah, which had been abandoned just a few days earlier by the Spanish when they pulled back their troops. After kneeling in prayer, the group of VIPS headed back into Morocco. Gendarmes then gave a signal, and thousands of Moroccans--wearing everything from djellabas to soccer uniforms--poured across the border.

As they fell to their knees and prayed outside the outpost, workmen hastily erected a triumphal arch on the previously unmarked boundary; atop it were Moroccan flags and huge portraits of Hassan. After moving into the Sahara in a great human flood a half-mile abreast, the marchers soon narrowed into a column eight to ten people wide and began raggedly shuffling down the single-lane asphalt road in the direction of Aaiun, Sahara's capital. A huge paratrooper distributed paperback copies of the Koran, which the marchers waved as they chanted, "Allah akbar [God is great]," "The Sahara is Moroccan," "Long live King Hassan."

Brave Marchers. Because the Spaniards had pulled back nine miles to the dissuasion line, the Moroccans encountered no resistance other than the cactus and the sand they kicked up into annoying swirls. Ahead, the land was completely flat until the dissuasion line, where it dips into a valley and rises to a plateau. On the plateau's rim, silhouettes of Spanish army tanks were visible; Spanish helicopters hovered ominously over the advancing column.

At the dissuasion line there were signs warning that the area was mined. The Spanish authorities claim they have buried more than 20,000 explosive devices throughout the area. We were told that the mines had been placed only within a mile of either side of the road. This means the marchers could proceed safely if they were willing to leave the asphalt and brave the inhospitable desert.

Twinkling Lights. As the marchers neared the dissuasion line, Moroccan gendarmes told them to halt. The weary walkers fanned out along the side of the road and began preparing campsites; old men started chipping away at their sugar loaves in anticipation of the tea that would soon be brewing. When night fell, lights could be seen twinkling in the opposing camps, as on the eve of some great medieval battle. On the Moroccan side, dinners were being cooked and tea brewed over thousands of tiny brushwood fires that were also providing some warmth from the desert cold. In the Spanish camp, some of the lights were also fires; others were the headlamps of heavy armored vehicles patrolling the plateau. Although fatigued by the day's hot, dusty trek, the Moroccans nonetheless were in very high spirits and sang and danced late into the night. Trucks had brought them ample supplies of water, as well as crates of dates and canned tuna and mackerel, typifying the remarkably efficient logistics that have been characteristic of the entire march.

King Hassan had originally boasted that he would lead his people into the Sahara but suddenly had second thoughts. Declaring that the "duty of a chief is to remain at the command post of the nation," he stayed at his vacation villa in Agadir and sent Premier Osman in his place. The monarch was able to offer the marchers plenty of verbal encouragement. "Greet every Spaniard you meet, and ask him to enter your tent and share your rations," he exhorted. "We do not want any blood to flow. If they fire on you, advance peacefully." Spanish officials in the colony, however, warned that the Moroccans could indeed encounter fire. "You can be sure the march will end at the exact military border, where we have set up our operations center," cautioned Lieut. General Federico GOmez de Salazar, Spain's military commander in the Sahara. "If they go just one yard farther, they will be met by terrible minefields."

The march took place in the midst of a week of frantic diplomatic activity aimed at reconciling the opposing sides: Morocco, which has historic claims to the phosphate-rich colony, and socialist Algeria, which wants to prevent the colony from falling into the hands of Hassan, a semifeudal reactionary in Algerian eyes. Spain is caught in the middle. Having ruled the 103,000-sq.-mi. colony and its 70,000 nomads for 91 years, it is more than willing to give up administrative responsibilities for the area and thus avoid the kind of bloody colonial war that drained Portugal's resources (see story page 41).

Madrid at first appeared willing to accept a Moroccan takeover of the Sahara; in return, the Spaniards hoped to keep a share of the lucrative phosphate-mining industry, which Spain has developed at a cost of more than $447 million. Bowing to Algerian and United Nations pressure, Spain decided to oppose Hassan's occupation of the colony. To dramatize this new stance--and possibly to build up his image at home as a forceful leader--Spain's acting Chief of State Prince Juan Carlos flew to Aaiun for a visit with the commanders of the 15,000 troops based there. "Spain will meet its promises and try to maintain peace," said the Prince.

When it became apparent that Hassan would go ahead with the march, the U.N. Security Council called on all nations concerned "to avoid unilateral or other action which might further escalate the tension in the area." One reason Hassan has remained adamant, perhaps, is fear that his prestige among his subjects will plunge if he appears to back down under pressure. When he received a cable from the Security Council to "end forthwith the declared march," he dryly replied: "The march started this morning."

Fearful Hassan. At week's end the U.N. was still hoping mediation would settle the crisis. One plan, reportedly agreeable to both Madrid and Algiers, involves a six-month U.N. administration of the colony, during which Spanish troops would gradually withdraw, followed by elections in which the inhabitants would decide their political future. Hassan, however, fears voting in the colony would be manipulated by the Algerians, who have strong links to the leftist Polisario Front, the Sahara's best-organized political group. On Saturday, nevertheless, the King received a special envoy from Spain, Cabinet Member Antonio Carro Martinez for further talks on the crisis.

The talks--or some other behind-the-scenes maneuvers--finally convinced Hassan to pull back his marchers. On Sunday, the King announced that the march had "achieved its objective" and ordered his people to return to their base camp inside Moroccan borders. In return, according to one report, Spain was expected to announce that it would turn over the disputed colony to U.N. administration until a referendum could decide its future.

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