FiSahara is the Film Festival Drawing Attention to Five Decades of Occupation in Western Sahara

Last week marked the 19th edition of the Western Sahara International Film Festival (FiSahara).

Founded in 2003 by Sahrawi and Spanish activists, FiSahara uses film as both a cultural lifeline and a political platform: entertaining and empowering displaced Sahrawis while bringing sustained international attention to a struggle that has long been overlooked. Now, spanning nearly four decades, the conflict in Western Sahara remains widely described as one of the world’s most invisible crises.

Its origins lie in the legacy of Spanish colonialism along the northwest coast of Africa, with the current occupation beginning in 1975. During its withdrawal, Spain partitioned Western Sahara between Mauritania and Morocco, both of which asserted a claim to the territory. This decision was strongly opposed by the Polisario Front, the indigenous Sahrawi liberation movement, and quickly escalated into armed conflict. The dispute ultimately displaced thousands of Sahrawis to Tindouf, Algeria, and resulted in Morocco’s occupation of roughly two-thirds of Western Sahara—a violation of international law that remains largely ignored and unresolved today.

Speaking with LOVE, FiSahara’s Executive Director, María Carrión, highlights the particular importance of cinema in preserving Sahrawi culture and documenting life under occupation. With Sahrawis frequently denied freedom of movement, she notes, “Film has the power to transcend borders.”

This year’s theme, Walking to Our Land: The Radical Hope of Return, reflects on the right of Indigenous peoples to return to their homelands amid ongoing displacement and land dispossession. It also highlights the growing political parallels between Western Sahara and Palestine. Since Donald Trump publicly signalled support for Morocco’s claim in 2020, “the fates of the Sahrawi and the Palestinians have become more politically enmeshed than ever before,” explains Carrión.

For both communities, the right of return is inseparable from the right to exist—rights that depend on what she describes as “nourishing the mind and soul” through storytelling and cultural preservation rooted in the communities themselves. This conviction underpins FiSahara’s work, including its support since 2011 for a film school built and run by Sahrawis in Algeria’s refugee camps.

“The film school has given birth to Sahrawi cinematography,” explains Carrión.“It is still in its infancy but already a highly distinctive form of art, with films made from a Sahrawi perspective and rooted in the elements and ingredients of their own cultural language. This is crucial because every community deserves at least the minimum conditions to tell and transmit their own stories. Through FiSahara, we hope to continue amplifying these films and supporting the future of Sahrawi cinema.”

After being forced to cancel last year’s edition due to funding shortages, Carrión describes FiSahara’s immediate priority as continuity rather than expansion. “You’d think we want to be bigger and do more, but really it’s about survival…continuing to share the stories of a community that has for decades been ignored.”

Selma Nouri (SN): Can you tell me about the origins of FiSahara?

María Carrión (MC): The festival began in 2003, making this its 19th edition. While the intention has been to hold it annually, that hasn’t always been possible. For instance, during the pandemic, we had to abruptly cancel, but at other times, fundraising challenges made it difficult to go ahead. So, although we’re now celebrating the 19th edition, the organisation itself has existed for 23 years.

When we first began, film was still a relatively new medium in Western Sahara, as cultural expression had traditionally relied on oral transmission and other nomadic traditions. While rich and powerful, oral culture is also vulnerable, especially in contexts where a people’s heritage is under threat.

The idea behind the festival, then, was to introduce film as both a creative and strategic tool: a way to bring artists, filmmakers, journalists, and the public into refugee camps in Algeria, fostering long-term connections and enabling Sahrawis to finally tell their own stories. Over time, the festival expanded its activities by offering filmmaking workshops, but it quickly became clear that many young people wanted training that extended beyond the festival period.

After sustained effort, the Sahrawi community established a film school in the camps, which opened its doors in 2011. Since then, it has played a vital role in the emergence of Sahrawi cinematography…which is still in its infancy but already a highly distinctive form of art, with films made from a Sahrawi perspective and rooted in the elements and ingredients of their own cultural language. This is crucial because every community deserves at least the minimum conditions to tell and transmit their own stories. Through FiSahara, we hope to continue amplifying these films and supporting the future of Sahrawi cinema.

SN: So instead of relying solely on films made by outsiders, you’re empowering people in the camps with the tools to tell their own stories.

MC: Yes, and at the same time, distribution has become a key priority. By joining the Human Rights Film Network, a global alliance of more than 50 festivals, FiSahara has actively encouraged festivals around the world to screen films about Western Sahara. Much of this international work involves organising screenings and roundtable discussions that introduce new audiences to the conflict. And these conversations are often eye-opening. In many places, audiences are largely unfamiliar with the conflict in Western Sahara, and they are often surprised to discover how their own countries may be implicated—whether through public funding, political support, or corporate involvement in the extraction of resources. Raising this awareness has become an essential part of the project’s mission.

SN: What inspired this year’s theme?

MC: This year’s theme, Walking to Our Land, centres on the right to return…a right that is often excluded from political negotiations and public debate. Settler-colonial powers frequently argue that, after decades of geographic and demographic change, return is no longer feasible. This is a familiar justification in the case of Palestine, and it is increasingly implied in discussions about Western Sahara as well.

Through film, our goal was to challenge that assumption. That’s why this year’s program includes films not only about Western Sahara, but also about Palestine and the Sámi people of northern Europe. Many Europeans remain unaware of the Indigenous communities within their own continent, whose cultures and ways of life continue to be threatened by ongoing expansionist projects.

Alongside this, we run a dedicated Western Sahara program that includes films made by Sahrawis themselves. It’s often the most popular section, as audiences see their own realities reflected on screen, sometimes for the first time. This is especially powerful in the student film selection…and now, people in the occupied territories—many of whom are entirely self-taught—are making their own short films about their daily lives, and these are also screened.

The whole experience is quite extraordinary. One evening, for example, everyone travels out to the sand dunes outside the refugee camps to watch a traditional Sahrawi concert at sunset alongside their host families. There are no hotels, so international guests stay with local families, which adds another layer of connection. It allows people to truly engage with life on the ground in a very direct and personal way.

SN: What excited you most about this year’s festival?

MC: This year, we screened Return to al-Ma'in, a film created in collaboration between Forensic Architecture and Palestinian historian and Nakba survivor Salman Abu Sitta. Having Forensic Architecture participate in the festival, in particular, was a dream come true.

Human rights defenders in the occupied territories face the difficult task of documenting violations while also being the victims themselves…and many lack access to specialised training and the advanced tools needed to move forward. Inviting Forensic Architecture into the camps offers a way to bridge that gap by introducing these methods and tools to activists already engaged in vital work.

This year, we also included a food sovereignty project called Cooking for Change. It is a culinary school and community kitchen aimed at improving food conditions and expanding employment opportunities for Sahrawi women in the camps. Working with a collective of artists, gardeners, and engineers, they have created several community gardens, making it possible to grow essential ingredients in a place where almost nothing grows, which is truly life-changing.

It’s important to note that while we invite many journalists, activists, and artists, the festival is also open to the public. That’s a central part of what we do. Typically, over 50% of the people on our charter flights are visitors who simply want to experience the festival firsthand.

Of course, that adds an extra layer of complexity. We have to house everyone, transport them, and provide medical care. But in many ways, the payoff is worth it. People often stay in touch long after the festival ends, and today, thanks to WhatsApp, those relationships are much easier to maintain.

SN: In terms of film and filmmaking, what benefits has the festival brought to the Sahrawi community?

MC: Considering that in 2003, there were no Sahrawi films at all, the transformation has been remarkable. Today, there is a growing body of Sahrawi-made cinema, and these films are actively circulating within the community.

At first, cinema itself was often perceived as something Western, almost an imposed art form. Some early films didn’t necessarily resonate with Sahrawi audiences, and there was a sense that they weren’t speaking directly to local experiences. But over time, that perception has shifted.

A key factor in this change has been the development of a parallel cultural infrastructure in the camps. Film screenings, which once took place only for a single week each year—running from Tuesday to Saturday—are now supported by a mobile cinema, enabling far more regular access. This development has enabled year-round programming and has led to a significant increase in closed-door screenings.

Often organised by youth and women, these intimate gatherings create space for community members to engage with sensitive or sometimes even taboo subjects, using locally produced films as a catalyst for discussion and reflection. Psychologists have emphasised how important this is for the mental health of Sahrawi youth. Through film, they can reflect on their personal lives and experiences, drawing on their own cultural references and language to make sense of the future.

This creative expression has also expanded into new formats. Sahrawi communities now produce their own sitcoms, which serve as both social critique and an outlet for humour, allowing community members to find moments of levity amid their difficult circumstances.

SN: Since 2023, and the global awakening around Gaza, have you noticed any parallels in the level of attention given to Western Sahara? Has the situation in Palestine meaningfully influenced the visibility of the Sahrawi cause?

MC: Well, what I have seen is a strong show of solidarity from Sahrawis toward Palestinians, particularly those in Gaza. Unfortunately, because of geopolitical power dynamics and the way Morocco has leveraged its influence, it remains rare for people to have a deep or sustained understanding of what is happening in Western Sahara.

That’s why it has always been important for us to elevate the Palestinian struggle and draw parallels between the two experiences. For years, the international community has consistently refused to adequately confront what is happening in these places or to hold accountable the ongoing violations of international law. On December 10th, 2020, Human Rights Day, Trump publicly signalled support for Moroccan sovereignty over Western Sahara, effectively undermining established legal norms…and further proving how the fates of the Sahrawi and the Palestinians have become more politically enmeshed than ever before.

It is also important to note that Morocco has adopted methods similar to those used by Israel in its treatment of the Sahrawi people, including the deployment of Israeli surveillance technologies and the use of Israeli-supplied weapons in operations that have involved violence and killing.

That’s why this year’s theme is so important. It aims to build solidarity across these struggles and spotlight just how interconnected they are…because no one is truly free until all of us are free.

SN: How can people who are unable to attend the festival still support it, or contribute more broadly to the Sahrawi community?

MC: I think sharing their stories and the information we make available through our posts is a key first step. Another way to get involved is by hosting screenings in your own community. We have an online catalogue on our website, nomadsHRC.org, and you can also find similar resources on the FiSahara website. There are nearly 300 films about Western Sahara that are free and publicly accessible. We’re more than willing to help connect people with filmmakers, production companies, distributors, or anyone involved, so they can screen a film or take part in a discussion.

Organising a screening followed by a conversation is a powerful way to introduce the topic locally. This can take place in a variety of settings: high schools, libraries, community colleges, cultural centres, and beyond. What matters most is spreading the word and opening up meaningful space for dialogue.

Because, just as Palestinians in Gaza have asked the world to share their stories, so too have the Sahrawi people. When we ask, “What do you need from us?” The answer is often simple: “Please tell our story.” I think that is one of the most important things we can do. Often, Sahrawis living in the occupied territory are refused permission to leave—yet a film about them will. Film has the power to transcend borders.

SN: Do you accept donations, or are there ways to support your work through funding?

MC: Of course, on our website, we have links for donations. Financial support is always a challenge, and we stretch every dollar, cent, and euro as far as possible. That’s why much of the work is carried out by volunteers, most of the equipment we use is donated, and salaries are minimal…if they exist at all.

In this context, financial contributions make a meaningful difference. Donors can also choose to designate their support, for example, toward the festival itself, Sahrawi filmmakers, or specific projects. It’s one of the most direct ways to help sustain and grow this work.

And whenever possible, we would also love to welcome people to the festival. This year, unfortunately, it was already too late, but people can sign up for future editions and experience it firsthand. As I mentioned earlier, anyone with relevant skills—whether as doctors, educators, filmmakers, or in other fields—can find meaningful ways to contribute. There are many opportunities to get involved and support the ongoing work. It’s important to remember that the work in Western Sahara is not limited to our organisation alone. There are many other groups and projects, both in the camps and across the diaspora, that organise activities and welcome collaboration.

SN: What are your goals for the festival moving forward? What do you hope to achieve in the future?

MC: Oh, wow. Honestly, the least ambitious goal is simply to keep going. I say “least ambitious” because you’d think we want to be bigger and do more, but really it’s about survival…continuing to share the stories of a community that has for decades been ignored. Projects like this are constantly under threat, so just continuing to exist is, in itself, a meaningful goal.

Western Sahara is a place that has endured repeated cuts to humanitarian aid and is now facing severe malnutrition, along with preventable health conditions that persist simply because people don’t have enough to eat. Children sit at broken desks, leafing through torn books as they try to study, without access to universities or higher education.

Some people ask, “Why invest in an international film festival in this context?” But the reality is that initiatives like this are deeply needed…if only to continue inspiring hope. So, what I want is for the festival to keep moving forward—to continue opening new doors, bringing more people in, and raising awareness. I want the film school to keep producing work, and for those films to reach wider audiences. Some already have, travelling to festivals and even winning awards, which is incredibly encouraging. And beyond that, I hope the festival continues to strengthen bonds of solidarity between people.

SN: I read an interview where you described film as a human right. Could you briefly elaborate on that idea? What makes film, or the arts more broadly, a human right?

MC: In a context shaped by settler colonialism, ongoing conflict, and a humanitarian crisis, culture is almost always the first thing to be sidelined. Donors, understandably, tend to focus on immediate survival needs, leaving very little attention or funding for cultural life and artistic expression.

But consider what that looks and feels like for people on the ground. You have communities that have lived in refugee camps for over 50 years—generation after generation born into displacement, in the middle of the desert. In that reality, the idea of funding a library, supporting filmmaking, or creating spaces for cultural expression rarely crosses a donor’s mind…yet without all those things, a people cease to exist. It’s as simple as that.

Existence is not defined by physical survival alone. It also depends on the ability to sustain memory, identity, and imagination—to nurture the mind and the soul, and to pass something meaningful on to the next generation. Otherwise, what’s the point?

This is especially true for young people. Access to the arts, film, and culture is essential. It allows them to connect with their elders, to understand the past, and think more deeply about their present, so that they can begin to imagine the future. And that is absolutely essential.

The objective of the colonisers is to destroy that transmission between generations. Their weapon is hopelessness. Each time an elder dies, a piece of Sahrawi history disappears, unless it is recorded, unless it is passed on. And film can do exactly that.

LOVE RECS by MARÍA CARRIÓN

• Unsubmissive by Laura Daudén and Miguel Ángel Herrera
• Running Home by Michelle-Andrea Girouard
• La Badil by Dominic Brown
• Four Days in Occupied Western Sahara—A Rare Look Inside Africa’s Last Colony by John Hamilton

Three by Sahrawi Filmmakers:

• The Nomad Garden by Mohamed Salem Mohamed Ali
• The Price of Beauty by Ahmed Mohamed Lamin
• Searching for Tirfas by Lafdal Mohamed Salem

More than 200 films about Western Sahara are freely accessible through the NomadsHRC film catalogue, including the following recommendations curated by María Carrión.

If you would like to support this work, you can make donations to the FiSahara Film Festival here: https://festivalsahara.org/en/donativos/.