THE Moroccan crisis, which reached its climax in the period between the overthrow of the Sultan Sidi Mohammed ben Yussef on August 20, 1953, and the recognition by the French Government of his restoration on November 6, 1955, has in reality existed in a more or less acute form for the past 20 years. In 1934, the year in which France completed her occupation of Morocco, a group of native intellectuals drew up a "Plan for Moroccan Reforms" which they submitted to the French Premier. In it they denounced the Protectorate policy as racially and fiscally unjust, obscurantist, anti-liberal, colonialist and assimilationist. They demanded that the system of direct administration be abolished, that the country be administered "in the spirit of Moroccan unity" and that substantial numbers of Moroccan natives be included in all administrative councils. They proclaimed that the rôle of the protecting Power should be limited to that of technical adviser until such time as the protected country should be capable of governing itself.

These demands were regarded as revolutionary and their advocates as seditious. Yet in reality they did no more than seek to restore the true purpose of the Protectorate, which had legally established control but not direct administration. Propaganda in favor of reform, limited at first to the middle classes in the cities, spread to the workers and thence throughout the country to the farthest reaches of the Berber mountains. The administration, instead of trying to canalize the movement by satisfying at least some of its demands, chose to regard the "évolués" (the term used to describe the more advanced native elements) as upstarts without a following, and proclaimed itself the defender of the real interests of the Moroccan people, disregarding political reality and limiting itself to purely material considerations.

But the social conditions under which the country had been colonized made it just as impossible to satisfy its material as its political aspirations. This situation had its roots in the basic structure of the Protectorate. The traditional régime which Lyautey had found in Morocco in 1912 was in perfect consonance with his own profoundly royalist, aristocratic convictions: a theocratic sultan whose authority was undisputed, a hierarchic society in which all power was in the hands of a hereditary ruling class from whose wealthy ranks were drawn the members of the Makhzen, as the government was called. He was determined that "people and things should remain as they were, that those born to power should continue to command and the rest obey." The Makhzen remained a tightly-closed caste, and the feudal régime of the caids and pashas continued in force throughout the country. The great caids of the Atlas, notably el Glaoui, were able to assure France of the adherence of the South, thanks to the almost regal powers they exercised over immense territories and their right to coerce, imprison or even execute their subjects with impunity.

The flaws in the system did not show as long as the magic of Lyautey's personality dominated the scene. But once he was gone, the reality became apparent. The European economy had upset the traditional economy of the Moors. European colonists had availed themselves of the best land and crowded the tribes back to the rocky edges of the plains. Free trade had broken up the former corporate structure and deprived the artisan class of its livelihood. Berbers from the mountains were streaming into the cities, where they were soon concentrated in the leprous suburbs called bidonvilles that sprang up in the shadow of the imposing buildings housing the great financial enterprises. The absolutism of the Sultan had been replaced by that of the Resident, the authority of the pashas and caids by that of the Native Affairs Officers and Civil Controllers. "The Frenchman," said Lyautey, "has direct administration in his blood." Officers and civil servants from metropolitan France monopolized even the lowliest functions, leaving to the Moroccan officials only license to exploit those under them and the shame of their subservience. The Makhzen opposed any innovation that might encroach upon its own privileges and rigorously excluded from its ranks the new élite that was being educated in the French universities.

Looked down upon by the French and deprived of an outlet for their energies, the native intellectuals lent a willing ear to the appeals of Cairo. The aims of Pan-Arab modernism were not limited to a return to the original purity of Islam unencumbered by the thaumaturgical trappings accumulated over the centuries. Rather, it called upon Moslems everywhere to work for the independence of their countries as a first step toward the establishment of a universal Islam, utilizing all the resources of Western scientific development. Thus it encouraged the Moroccans not only to resist the authority of the protecting Power but to seek the overthrow of the internal structure of Moroccan society. It denounced with equal vigor the tyranny of the pashas and caids who served the French administration and the exploitation of the people's credulity by the religious brotherhoods and marabouts who docilely lent themselves to the purposes of the Residency.

Despite repression, nationalism continued to grow in strength until the outbreak of the war, when the defeat of France quickened the hope that liberation was finally at hand. The nationalist movement put its faith in God and ben Yussef, Sultan Mohammed V. Taking advantage of the opportunity which the state of war offered him, the young sovereign had asserted his true personality. Calm, self-contained, reflective by nature, exercising the divine authority vested in him as a sherif or descendant of the Prophet, he was regarded as the defender of the aspirations of his people. In him they saw the Sherifian authority restored to its rightful dignity with the support of the qualified representatives of the nation. When the war was over, the protecting Power found that although it was no longer confronted with the people's open opposition (which had been officially disavowed by the Sultan) the palace was nevertheless actually in sympathy with the prevailing mood. The battle-lines had been drawn, and there could now be no turning back.

On one side the Residency, supported by the French colonists, jealously defended the prerogatives of these latter; on the other side the Sultan, symbol of the Moroccan people, propounded the right of his country gradually to attain the status of a free and sovereign state. The colonists, convinced that "the only thing a Moor understands is force," could not conceive of any régime but an authoritarian paternalism doling out such meagre concessions as were compatible with their own privileges. The wealthy landowners, who kept their farmhands on starvation wages and paid mere token taxes to the Government, were the most intransigent of all. A promising experiment in peasant organization through the use of tractors owned collectively by the tribe aroused the opposition of the Europeans in the Meknes region, who feared to see the living conditions of the fellah improved, and so had to be abandoned in 1949. The majority of businessmen resisted any changes that might jeopardize their investments. The Banque de Paris et des Pays-Bas, which has such an influence over the entire Moroccan economy, threw its weight on the conservative side. Only in the mining industry was there any realization that concessions must be made, and it was consequently regarded as a traitor to the French cause. The city-dwellers, coming from metropolitan France or Algeria, showed open contempt and hostility toward the Moroccans, the worst offenders in this respect being the "petits blancs" from the Mediterranean coasts; these hated the natives all the more because they resembled them in their poverty. Free from the restraints of any regular political authority, the French in Morocco obeyed only those instincts of self-preservation which led them in all good faith to identify their privileges with the general welfare. Only the administration could have introduced order and moderation. However, it was thoroughly imbued with the local prejudices and became helpless in the face of demands which it could neither understand nor satisfy. It could not adapt itself to the changing situation. Gradually it lost faith and turned to the police régime as its only safeguard.

The nationalists, gradually building up their anti-colonial organization, looked to the United States for support. But their hopes were doomed to bitter disappointment, and they came to have as little faith in the Americans as in the United Nations. Finally they reached the conclusion that they, like the Syrians and Lebanese, could not count on any efforts but their own. In December 1943 they formed the Independence Party (Hizb el-Istiqlal), composed primarily of intellectuals and businessmen with a small number of workers and peasants. Basing itself on the Atlantic Charter, the Istiqlal demanded "the independence of Morocco in its territorial integrity, under the leadership of H. M. Sidi Mohammed ben Yussef, whom God glorify," and called upon the Sultan himself to establish "a democratic régime comparable to the régimes adopted in the Moslem countries of the Orient, guaranteeing the rights of all elements and classes of Moroccan society and defining the duties of every citizen." At the same time another party was formed, the Democratic Independence Party (P.D.I.), which had a similar program but did not rule out all contacts with the authorities. The nationalist demands were supported by public demonstrations and riots and these were followed by mass arrests. The situation was all the more serious in that nationalist sentiment was taking its directives and obtaining its resources from the palace of the Sultan himself, which was for the most part not subject to surveillance.

Mohammed V, born in 1910, was proving himself to be a statesman of the first order. Modern in his Arabism, exemplary in his piety, and given by nature to meditation, he condemned the innovations of the religious brotherhoods and maraboutism. He was deeply interested in scientific progress, and expressed to President Roosevelt his regret that his own country had not produced more engineers and technicians. Convinced that if a modern sovereign is to be able to resist pressure from the Western Powers he must have a sound European education, he sent his children to study in French schools. The eldest of his four daughters has taken an active part in the campaign for the emancipation of women, making radio addresses in which she urges the women of Morocco to seek "an education at once traditional and modern," dispensing with the veil, going about freely in public and engaging in sports. The imperial family by its attachment to the legacy of the past coupled with its bold modernity of outlook has become a symbol of Morocco; in that symbol the Berber in the mountains and the Arab in the plains recognizes his own image. It was from this unanimous trust that the Sultan drew the strength to demand the end of the Protectorate and propose a firmer and sounder basis for Franco-Moroccan relations.

The French Government refused all concessions, and Mohammed V was accused of seeking to restore the despotism of medieval times. To put an end to the conflict, Foreign Minister Bidault replaced the liberal Resident with General Juin. The latter, born in Algeria in humble circumstances, shared congenitally, so to speak, the prevailing prejudices about the ineptitude of the Arabs and the need for stern rule. Lacking a sense of politics, he was incapable of arriving at an honorable compromise between the two sides. He tried to break the Istiqlal by muzzling the Arab press, imprisoning the more active members of the organization and expelling from the Grand Council (elected representative assembly) those who did not share his opinions. But there was still the Sultan, who refused to bow to the General's demands. Determined to break his resistance, the Resident turned to el Glaoui, the great caid of the Atlas who was ever ready to do the bidding of the administration. A singular "friend of France" indeed was this feudal lord who ruled arbitrarily over nearly a third of the population of Morocco. He expropriated the tribes which did not pay him sufficient tribute and left his subjects only the choice between poverty and exile. Suddenly this righteous caid, at a signal from the General, felt the stirrings of the apostle's vocation in his breast. He it was who must defend the orthodoxy which had been made a thing of mockery by the Imam of Imams. In a talk with Mohammed V on December 21, 1950, he shouted at him, "You are not the Sultan of Morocco, you are the Sultan of the Istiqlal, and you are leading the empire to catastrophe!"

The General, failing to elicit from the Sultan any condemnation of the Istiqlal, decided to play his hand. At his orders the Civil Controllers, several of whom acted reluctantly in this case, summoned the horsemen of the tribes to Fez and Rabat under one pretext or another. This mobilization was hailed by the Resident as "a genuine manifestation by all Morocco of the trend of opinion among the noble Moroccan people." A replacement for the Sultan had even been prearranged in the person of Moulay Arafa. Under duress and because he wanted to avoid bloodshed, Sidi Mohammed signed a statement condemning "the subversive ideology of violence" and rendering homage to "the generous action of the French Republic." The Grand Vizier denounced the Istiqlal by name. As soon as the Sultan's signature had been obtained, the tribesmen, totally ignorant of what had happened, were disbanded and sent home. In the days that followed the Sultan received a flood of petitions, whose spontaneity was about as genuine as that of the "demonstration," all excoriating the Istiqlal. But the position of the Resident was still precarious. The Sherif had suffered a humiliation which was resented by Moslems the world over, and his prestige was actually enhanced by the experience. The denunciations against the Istiqlal did not have the slightest effect on public opinion. Soon the leading French colonist in Meknes was reproaching the Resident for having left the job half finished, and the opinion was widely expressed among the settlers that the way to insure peace for the next 20 years was to overthrow the Sultan and take stern measures against tens of thousands of Moroccans. Everywhere among the French there was regret that the coup had been abortive.

General Guillaume, who succeeded General Juin in August 1951, failed completely to persuade the Sultan to sign the dahirs in which the Residency set forth the limited reforms it was willing to admit. As a result, the press in France and abroad accused Mohammed V of being stubbornly opposed to the evolution of Morocco. Actually the question was not as simple as that. The French Government proposed the creation of municipalities in which the French, who were foreigners under the law, would have enjoyed the same status as Moroccans. There was no guarantee of the fairness of the elections. The Sultan knew very well that in Algeria democratic representation was a mere façade, that outside the big towns native elections were decided by the officials, who saw to it that the candidate of their choice was put in office regardless of the votes cast. In the absence of any native control over the election machinery, the voting became a farce. In the legal sphere the Residency proposed certain favorable measures but refused to abolish the judicial right of the pashas, who were officials of the administration, to condemn to three months' imprisonment any suspect named by the Civil Controllers. As regards the labor unions, it was stipulated that their secretaries must be French. The Sultan's rejection of these "reforms" was based on the conviction that they constituted a step backward for Moroccan autonomy and a recognition of co-sovereignty to which he could not consent.

Mohammed V did not, however, refuse to study new agreements which would establish bonds of interdependence between France and Morocco. In March 1953 he asked me to approach the French Government unofficially with a proposal that his eldest son, Prince Moulay Hassan, should undertake negotiations on this matter. On March 18, accompanied by the President of the Assembly of the French Union, I transmitted these suggestions to the Premier, René Mayer. No answer was received. The Residency was particularly opposed to such a plan because from January 1953 on General Guillaume was convinced that the only possible solution would be the replacement of the sovereign. In his opposition to the Sultan he was supported by the two reactionary forces of feudalism represented by el Glaoui and of maraboutism represented by the Sherif el Kittani, leader of the brotherhood. A "repeat performance" of the Berber manifestation of 1951 was organized, and the Government was persuaded that a civil war between the city-dwellers and mountaineers was imminent.

The Sultan expressed his uneasiness in a message dated August 11 to the President of the Republic in which he denounced "the subversive dealings in which certain agents of the authorities were engaging in Morocco." He further drew the attention of the French Government and of public opinion to the encouragement given by "certain French authorities in the Protectorate to a factitious, so-called Francophile opposition directed against the Imperial Palace on both the temporal and the spiritual level." But the die was cast. In vain did Sidi Mohammed on August 13 accede to all the proposals of General Guillaume, including the participation of the French in the Sherifian administration. The high officials of Morocco, executing the will of Marshal Juin and the powerful colons, were already preparing for the final scene of the drama. At their instigation el Glaoui gathered together at Marrakech the pashas, caids and notables of the tribes for the proclamation of a new Sultan. Foreign Minister Bidault issued formal orders to invite el Glaoui to remain calm and avoid any kind of pronunciamento, but no heed was paid to these directives. Instead, on August 20, at the siesta hour armored cars surrounded the palace in Rabat. The Sultan and the crown prince, dressed in pajamas, were taken as prisoners to the nearest airplane and flown to Corsica, there to await transfer to Madagascar. The Council of Ministers, confronted with a fait accompli, ratified it. M. Bidault not only refused to punish the guilty parties, but in fact now became the defender of the very measure which he formerly so vigorously opposed. A hasty summons was sent to ben Arafa, who had been selected for just such a contingency two years earlier. But his nomination would not be valid unless approved by the Council of Ulemas, the learned doctors of Fez, who were favorable to ben Yussef. To obtain their consent, the Residency had them locked up until they should sign the necessary document. The most venerable among them, a man 78 years old, refused. He was exiled to the far south, but his opposition rendered the decision void, for Moslem law requires unanimity in such a case. The French population of Morocco almost without exception exulted. In France, apart from the deputies of the left and a few intellectuals, among them the Roman Catholic writer François Mauriac, public opinion was convinced by the press that the act had been justified and would be beneficial.

The new Sultan was a respectable, timid, characterless old man, ready to sign without reading them the dahirs presented by the Resident. He was regarded by the people as a usurper. The faithful refused to pray in his name and the mosques were deserted, in spite of police pressure. Thus the Moroccans became accustomed to dissociating the religious power of the Sultan in his capacity as Imam, which they did not recognize, from his temporal power, which he was unable to exercise. The Residency might have tried to invest ben Arafa with a certain prestige by having him ratify social measures that would have been popular. But those who had overthrown ben Yussef allegedly because he was opposed to reform were the very ones who, firmly anchored in their privileges, had no desire to see any concessions made. The only effective measure taken was the setting up of a council of viziers and directors, which actually transferred the powers of the Sultan to the administration. Morocco was falling back from the status of a protectorate to that of a colony. The Residency arrested thousands not only of the Istiqlal but of the Moroccan intelligentsia. An investigator sent by M. Mendès-France found children eight years old in jail. The majority of those whose education or economic status might have permitted them to make some fruitful contact with France were in prisons or concentration camps. The only ones left at large to manifest their sympathy with the dethroned Sultan were the lumpen proletariat of Casablanca, and it was unquestionably among them that terrorism, the infantile expression of nationalism, was born.

Thus a new form of resistance, revolutionary and xenophobic, made its appearance. Its fury was directed primarily against Moroccans in the service of the Protectorate, especially the police. On March 5, 1954, the "Sultan of the French" was wounded by a grenade hurled at him in a mosque in Marrakech, the city of el Glaoui. From then on ben Arafa lived immured in his palace, forced to remain on the throne by those who had made him Sultan. Next, well-known Europeans were assassinated, and certain French groups began to organize a counterterrorism. After executing nationalists who were still at liberty, they killed a French industrialist, M. Lemaigre-Dubreuil, who was guilty of establishing a newspaper advocating a Franco-Moroccan rapprochement. This occurred in Casablanca on June 2, 1955. A wave of indignation swept France. An investigation conducted by the Sûreté Nationale led to the arrest of a former police inspector and other suspects who confessed that they had belonged to a gang responsible for several outrages. The Government finally recognized the necessity for reëstablishing order and revising an administration which had rigorously punished the natives but had done nothing to restrain the French terrorists. On July 14, one week after the arrival of the new Resident, Gilbert Grandval, six Europeans were killed and thirty wounded by a bomb set off on the terrace of a Casablanca café. Passions were now aroused to the highest pitch. The colonialists opposed to Grandval, a man of character and strong will, refused to recognize him as a Frenchman because he was Jewish. They called him a traitor in the pay of ben Yussef because the Moroccans had acclaimed him on his arrival. On his way to an official ceremony in the cathedral veterans barred his entry and he had to push aside the flags which were thrown across his path. The French crowds insulted him, spat in his face and tore the epaulets from his uniform, in full view of the police. In many towns which he visited, the police fired on the crowd as it linked his name with that of ben Yussef. But the Resident did not weaken in his efforts, and he would undoubtedly have succeeded if the government whose orders he was carrying out had not abruptly disowned him.

Premier Edgar Faure is one of those statesmen who believe that everything can be settled by adroit manœuvring. Confronted with a reactionary majority in the National Assembly fiercely devoted to the colonialist cause, he chose to sacrifice a loyal and courageous official rather than risk the downfall of his government. Grandval proposed the abdication of ben Arafa with the latter's consent, the constitution of a regency council with the approval of Sidi Mohammed, and the exiled Sultan's return to France and renunciation of the throne. He wanted to solve the crisis before the anniversary of the overthrow of the Sultan, for, as he declared to the Government, "Time is blood." The tragic events that followed proved him more right than Foreign Minister Pinay, who did not admit the necessity for a time limit. August 20 was marked by a revolt of the Berbers of Zayan in the Middle Atlas, who killed 50 Europeans at Oued Zem. On the same day sanguinary riots broke out in Algeria. The delays and evasions in Paris were paid for in hundreds of deaths. The French of Morocco, shrugging off their own responsibility, blamed everything on Grandval and loudly demanded his recall. Premier Faure sought a way out of the impasse by summoning a committee of five ministers to meet at Aix-les-Bains on August 22 and hear the representatives of French and native opinion. In the end they were obliged to accept Grandval's plan, even though a new Resident, General Boyer de Latour, was named to replace him.

Hostile to the policies of Grandval and the Government, the General took the part of the colons as represented by the excitable group which called itself "Présence Française." He restored officials dismissed by Grandval, cancelled many of his appointments, permitted the release of the majority of Frenchmen arrested on presumption of crime and hesitated to carry out the orders received from Paris. The result was a most extraordinary tragicomedy. Certain ministers began giving the Resident orders contradicting those of the Premier, who did nothing to stop them. Influential deputies hurried to Rabat to incite ben Arafa to resistance. A camarilla in Paris headed by General Juin in alliance with "Présence Française" drew up the protests to be uttered by el Glaoui and organized resistance to the Government's policy. The Minister of War, General Koenig, did not hide the fact that he was hostile to that policy. Diplomats in Rabat who tried to carry out the instructions of the Government were disavowed by the Resident and insulted by the generals. "Présence Française" gave orders to the Residency and organized a military guard around the palace. The authorities loyal to the Government had to resort to elaborate ruses in order to reach the presence of the Sultan.

Ben Arafa, whose only wish by this time was to depart, finally arrived in Tangier on October 1. General de Latour, however, contrary to the decision of the French Government, made the retiring Sultan sign a statement merely delegating his powers instead of, as expected, nominating a regency council. In this way he retained his prerogatives as sultan and made any understanding with ben Yussef impossible. Other difficulties arose within the Cabinet and between it and the Residency when the Government persisted in requiring the establishment of the regency council. General de Latour wanted to weight it on the side of the traditionalists under el Glaoui and exclude the former Pasha of Sefrou, Si Bekkai, a onetime officer of the French Army who had lost a leg in the Battle of Verdun. His unforgivable crime was that he had resigned rather than serve under ben Arafa. A compromise was painfully arrived at on October 15.

Everyone thought the worst was over when suddenly like a clap of thunder the news came on October 25 of el Glaoui's switch to the former Sultan. The astute caid who had so long served the interests of the French administration knew that he could not risk further the hazards of opposition from his own forces. He realized that the game was up, and wanted at all costs to preserve for his family their lordship over the tribes, now entirely rallied to the side of ben Yussef. His recantation was enthusiastically hailed by the Moroccans, who did not fail to grasp its significance. For it dispelled once and for all the legend of the two Moroccos, the fiction of the loyalty of the great caids and the importance of the religious brotherhoods. Pashas, caids and religious leaders with el Kittani at their head fell over each other in their haste to render homage to ben Yussef.

Back in Paris, ben Yussef was able to savor his triumph to the full. No longer was there any question of renouncing the throne. Instead, General de Latour himself was urgently calling for his presence in Rabat, hoping it would counteract the Spanish-encouraged uprisings in the Rif. His claims, so lately called subversive, were now recognized as constituting solid grounds for discussion. The French Government agreed that Morocco should become a sovereign state linked to France by bonds of interdependence. French officials in Morocco threw themselves on their Moorish friends and begged them to testify to the purity of their dedication to ben Yussef. "Présence Française" was the first to declare its adherence. Hundreds of Moroccans who had never left the country before, many of them elderly, flew to France to render homage to their sovereign. The most zealous among them were the great caids and religious leaders who had been so deeply implicated in the plots against him. El Glaoui himself, after cooling his heels for an hour in an antechamber among hoards of other visitors, was finally admitted for a three-and-a-half-minute audience. Crawling on his hands and knees to the feet of the Sultan, he kissed the toe of his babouche under a merciless barrage of 30 cameras. Then he invoked the curse of heaven against those who had led him astray. The Sultan smilingly pardoned him; but he refused to receive the Sherif el Kittani.

Throughout, the Sultan has displayed an unruffled serenity. He refuses to speak of the past, wishing rather to concentrate on restoring the unity of Morocco and establishing a lasting friendship with France. The events of the past two years, however, have not yet run their full course. Seldom has a colonial policy received such a setback. The French Government, instead of negotiating with ben Yussef when it still held the trump cards, as many informed advisers recommended, stubbornly pursued a negative and futile course. At the same time its representatives allowed ben Arafa to be discredited. The bankruptcy of its policies is plainly revealed, especially those recommended by the generals trained in the school of native affairs. French public opinion has become aware for the first time that the real rulers of Morocco were not the ministers or the Resident but the highly-placed local officials and the great economic interests of which they were the spokesmen. For the first time a colonial question will be a primary issue in the elections.

Even more important is the transformation taking place in Morocco itself, where the crisis has caused a nation to catch up on a century of experience in two years. The unveiled women filing past the coffin of Lemaigre-Dubreuil were one sign of that revolution. Women were on the verge of taking part in the fighting on the streets, and it will be difficult indeed to force them back into their old position. The Sultan has realized the necessity for establishing a constitutional monarchy, but his task will not be easy. The pardon he has granted to his enemies will not sit well with the members of the Istiqlal who paid for their own loyalty by going to prison and who have seen many of their comrades die. The habits instilled by terrorism will not easily be given up by the young people, especially if Cairo urges them to intransigence. The Democratic Independence Party, seeking to offset the numerical superiority of the Istiqlal, is enrolling the former Arafists en masse. The support of the powerful caids, encouraged by high French officials, will tend to prolong the old feudal system; but this is quite unacceptable to the younger generation.

The negotiations aimed at establishing sovereignty and interdependence will doubtless be thorny. When the shock of recent events is abated, the French diplomats will be tempted to have recourse to juridical quibbling in the hope of impeding the execution of the general commitments entered into by the Government. Internationally, Spain is equally the loser. She supported ben Yussef as a means of opposing France. But the establishment of an independent Morocco will lead the Sultan to claim Spanish Morocco, of which he is also the sovereign. It is fortunate that in such circumstances the central figure is a man who is firm in his convictions and cannot be bought by the highest bidder. In the days to come the prestige of ben Yussef will doubtless be unequalled in the Moslem world. If France is willing to play fair and aid him in his task, at the same time adopting a bold policy in Algeria, peace may well be restored not only in Morocco but throughout North Africa.

You are reading a free article.

Subscribe to Foreign Affairs to get unlimited access.

  • Paywall-free reading of new articles and a century of archives
  • Unlock access to iOS/Android apps to save editions for offline reading
  • Six issues a year in print, online, and audio editions
Subscribe Now
  • CHARLES-ANDRÉ JULIEN, Professor of the History of Colonization at the University of Paris; Counsellor of the French Union; author of "Histoire de l'Afrique du Nord"
  • More By Charles-André Julien