“If you relinquish your alphabet, you relinquish the very basic element of your existence,” says Amazigh scholar Brahim El Guabli. [Getty]
In Morocco, every year, as the Amazigh ring in Yennayer, their ancient new year, the indigenous celebration ignites more than just festivities—it sparks a firestorm of conspiracy theories and ideological battles over identity, language, and tradition.
This year, as Imazighen communities marked the start of 2975, fresh conspiracy theories resurfaced around their traditions and language.
Some pan-Arab and Islamist activist have deemed Yennayer as a “dangerous Zionist legend,” others, once again, questioned the resources and efforts to implement the Amazigh language–Tamazight–in its Tifinagh script.
The remarks have revived a debate that seemed resolved in 2011 when Moroccan activists, waving both Amazigh and Moroccan flags, drove the 20 February movement to amend the constitution, securing recognition and equal rights for all communities in the country, including the indigenous Imazighen.
Linking one of the world’s oldest calendar celebrations to Zionism is “absurd” and “tin-foil hatter” at best, say Imazighen activists. Yet such rhetoric underscores persistent resistance to embracing the Amazigh identity and teaching and use of Tamazight.
For decades, Islamists and pan-Arab nationalists have questioned the need to constitutionalise Tamazight, include it in school curricula, or display it on official buildings—particularly in its original Tifinagh script.
Abdelilah Benkirane, leader of Morocco’s Islamist Justice and Development Party (PJD), once mockingly compared Tifinagh to Chinese, implying its unfamiliarity to most Moroccans.
The debate in the country over Tamazight’s script has long been fraught.
In the early 2000s, the Royal Institute for Amazigh Culture (IRCAM) recommended to King Mohammed VI the adoption of Tifinagh after a contentious process involving advocates for three scripts: Tifinagh, Arabic, and Latin.
Islamists and Arab nationalists championed the Arabic script, while the Amazigh Cultural Movement (ACM) split between Tifinagh and Latin.
“Obviously, behind these disagreements over the alphabet lurk deep ideological issues related to how each group conceived of Moroccan identity,” Amazigh scholar Brahim El Guabli told The New Arab.
“For Arab-Islamist groups, adopting Arabic would reinforce their vision of an Arab-Islamic ummah,” explains the Co-founder of Tamazgha Studies Journal.
Meanwhile, proponents of Tifinagh argued it affirmed the Imazighen’s independence and historical roots in Tamazgha (Amazigh land), showcasing a script that has survived millennia.
Amazigh language: a history of suppression
Influenced by the rising pan-Arab movement, Moroccan Nationalists envisioned a post-independence state with a homogenous language, religion, and dynasty: Arabic, Islam, and the King, respectively.
However, under this vision of a united Arab and Islamic nation, Amazigh culture often found itself repressed.
Post-French colonialism, the late Moroccan King Hassan II launched an Arabism project to erase French influence on Moroccan institutions.
Reflecting on the reality of Morocco today, this project can be viewed as having failed in its mission while also undermining Amazigh culture and strengthening long-standing feelings of discrimination among the community.
Tamazight’s suppression is not unique to Morocco. Post-independence, North African states—including Tunisia and Algeria—officially recognised only Arabic.
“In Tunisia, President Bourguiba even incentivised Imazighen to leave their language behind in exchange for economic benefits,” recalls El Guabli.
“Using Arabic instead of Tamazight was framed as modernisation. Yet while French retained its prestige, Tamazight was erased from public life,” he added.
Without state support, the language lacked a standardised alphabet, forcing civil society to use a mix of Latin, Arabic, and Tifinagh scripts.
In Morocco, a turning point came in the early 2000s, when King Mohammed VI recognised Amazigh culture and established IRCAM. But it took another decade for Tamazight to gain constitutional recognition, and implementation remains patchy.
“Why does Tifinagh matter?” Amazigh scholar Brahim El Guabli rhetorically asked. “It matters because visually it marks the Amazigh difference. It is iconic. You think of Imazighen as indigenous to Tamazgha, with a distinct language and culture that shouldn’t be confused with others in their homeland.”
“If you relinquish your alphabet, you relinquish the very basic element of your existence,” he added.
Today, Imazighen activists continue to push for Tamazight’s integration into Morocco’s institutions—from parliament to banks—to address the marginalisation of a language indigenous to the country.
