Music, identity and politics in the last colony of Africa

Music, identity and politics in the last colony of Africa

Author(s): Katriona Holmes Date first Published: May, 2015 Type: Research supported by the Ellie Maxwell Travel Bursary for the Clore Leadership Programme Fellowship Note: The paper presents the views of the author, and these do not necessarily reflect the views of the Clore Leadership Programme or its constituent partners.

Published Under: Creative Commons

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I

phoned every day. I sat in the consulate for several hours. I paid to change my flight

four times. I was about to give up on my trip when my visa finally came through ten days later. No apologies, no explanation and certainly no compensation. The waiting

and uncertainty were apt for the visit that I was to take.

The Sahawari refugee camps, near Tindouf in Algeria, have existed for 40 years, since the majority of Sahawari people fled there from the Western Sahara. The Western Sahara had been a Spanish colony and the Spanish speaking, previously nomadic, Sahawari people had been ready for self-determination as their European colonisers left, only to have the kingdom of Morocco brutally take over in 1975 instead.

I was trying to get to the camps to find out more about the El Shaheed El Wali band. One of the most well-known Sahawari music groups, the El Wali band was created as the Sahawari Arab Democratic Republic (SADR) was formed by the state in exile in 1975.

Sahawari music is desert music, bluesy, with strong Spanish influenced guitar riffs, traditional instrumentation, the tbal drum and primarily female vocalists singing raw, emotional and fierce poetry of loss, exile and resistance. ‘Music is our identity’ I was told by the Sahawari diplomatic representatives in London.

Backed by the music charity Sandblast Arts, who work with Sahawari musicians on an international stage, I was armed with a list of over twenty key musicians, dancers and poets that made up the El Wali band. I was to investigate what part music played in Sahawari identity and resistance. I had big questions about the band immediately after the exile, during the years of war, after the ceasefire and today.

After they fled the Western Sahara, the Sahawari were at war with Morocco. In 1991, a ceasefire was agreed by both sides on condition that the Saharwari get a referendum on selfdetermination. Up until this time, for 16 years, almost all of the men were away fighting. As a result, the camps were largely built by women. Women still hold a strong and equal status in the camps, including many Ministerial positions. Women also made up most of the members of the El Wali band.

I discovered that the El Wali band functioned more like a collective. Members were selected from their schools by the Sahawari state, trained up and sent to perform across the world.

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Musicians we spoke to had travelled to several countries on every continent, including comprehensive touring across Europe. This mainly took place during the 80s and 90s. The touring seemed to have dried up by the 2000s.

Those that we interviewed stated that they did not want money. ‘We are happy to be interviewed. We only want you to take our story out there and tell people about how we are suffering.’ Some asked me why the international community were not doing anything about it. I had to reply ‘because no one knows about it.’

And it’s true, no one knows about it. Most of those I told about the trip had never heard of Sahawari people, a Spanish colony and certainly not a Moroccan occupation. Sahawari music has reached these shores, but has not yet achieved the acclaim that Malian Tuareg music has, for example.

Why does anyone need to know about it? On the 40th anniversary of the occupation, after 24 years of waiting for the promised referendum, it feels as though it is reaching breaking point.

The governing Polisario’s aim is to reach their goals peacefully and diplomatically, without any recourse to violence. However the young are sick of it. A 20,000 strong peaceful protest in the occupied Western Sahara in 2010, dubbed by Noam Chomsky as the true beginning of the Arab Spring, was violently dismantled by the Moroccans, with no press allowed. Many people, especially the young, are calling for a return to arms as their only option.

The El Shaheed El Wali band still exists, but not as it once did. Members are aging and rarely perform these days. New songs have not been written. Many of the original members live abroad in Spain. The absolute solidarity expressed by the band is still strong. Yet, as the waiting draws on, many have lost faith that the current approach will ever produce the promised referendum. With no jobs or infrastructure in the camps, numerous accounts of human rights abuses in the occupied Western Sahara, a strong national identity yet little sign of political traction, what might give? How long can an entire people wait in uncertainty, with no apologies, no explanation and certainly no compensation. What will be the new songs? I am afraid of what they might sing.

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