How will Moroccans celebrate Eid Al-Adha amid a royal ban on livestock sacrifices?

This year, Morocco shut down livestock markets ahead of Eid al-Adha amid a royal directive to forgo the Islamic celebration and preserve the country's fragile livestock in the face of drought.

In February, King Mohammed VI, who also holds the title of Commander of the Faithful in the Muslim-majority kingdom, called on Moroccans to suspend the annual sacrifice, citing environmental necessity.

It was a rare royal intervention, though not without precedent.

His father, the late King Hassan II, suspended Eid sacrifices three times during his reign: during times of war, drought, and under IMF-imposed austerity that forced Morocco to lift food subsidies.

"It was a difficult decision, made to protect the national herd, but it has severely impacted farmers", Mourad Soussi, a herder in Azrou, a small town in central Morocco, remarked to The New Arab.

According to the local NGO Nechfate, 35 percent of Moroccan families involved in subsistence farming rely on animal herding as their primary income. "For them, livestock is like insurance", said the group. "They sell animals when they need cash."

But after six years of drought, agricultural incomes have plummeted, forcing many families to sell off livestock to make ends meet. The result: a national herd that has shrunk to levels not seen since the 1970s, when Morocco's population was roughly half what it is today. The kingdom is now home to some 37 million people.

While the ban is anticipated to promote long-term sustainability, its short-term economic impact has been significant.

With sheep sales now illegal in the weeks leading up to Eid, local authorities have shut down weekly livestock markets and pop-up stalls across the country. In Rabat, the Ministry of the Interior has suspended all seasonal livestock trading and banned the sale of related supplies, dealing a blow to artisans and informal workers who depend on the Eid economy.

"We were already struggling with the high cost of fodder, in which we had heavily invested," added the Azrou-based farmer.

"This has taken a toll on our capital. I estimate our losses at around 50 percent. That's not to mention the eight to twelve months of hard work spent raising and preparing cattle for Eid. We urge the Ministry of Agriculture to provide both financial and moral support."

Last month, the government unveiled a 6.2 billion dirham relief plan, including subsidies for animal feed and partial debt relief for herders.

Mourad, a small herder, hoped for an equitable distribution of the aid, saying that big livestock owners were usually the primary beneficiaries.

How Moroccans will celebrate amid Eid ban?

This marks the first time in thirty years that Moroccans will not traditionally celebrate Eid al-Adha.

Yet for many, the celebration must go on. Households are turning to supermarket meat, poultry, and seafood to prepare their Eid grill.

A surge in demand for poultry—a more affordable alternative—has pushed prices up by five dirhams per kilo in the days before the celebration.

To stabilise supply and prices, Morocco has increased meat imports. Still, imported meat remains expensive, and the traditional Eid grill now costs more than $700.

A survey by the local newspaper L'Économiste found that most Moroccans avoid imported meat due to its unfamiliar taste and religious concerns over halal certification.

"There hasn't been a practical method for implementing this decision. There won't be an Eid [sacrifice], yet everyone has bought liver and stomach! It's as if they closed the door but came in through the window," said Mouhssine Hajji, a young man from Sefrou (near Fez) told TNA.

In previous bans, while fewer families observed the ritual, some quietly defied the royal order for religious reasons.

Local outlet Yabiladi reported that in 1981, some Moroccans slaughtered sheep in secret. In the town of Guelmima, in the country's southeast, protesters went so far as to hang slaughtered dogs on the gates of the city's palace in anger over the Eid cancellation.

Still, others view the ban as an opportunity to revive older, cultural aspects of the holiday, such as family gatherings and the post-Eid folk festival of Boujloud.

Also known as Bilmawen, Boujloud is a vibrant North African tradition rooted in Amazigh pre-Islamic rituals, tied to fertility and the changing seasons.

While it began as a pagan agrarian celebration, the festival gradually merged with Islamic traditions. It typically features performers clad in dried sheep or goat skins—the remnants of Eid sacrifice—who parade through villages, dancing to drums and flutes, blessing or playfully chasing onlookers.

In recent years, Boujloud has seen a revival, with performers opting for more extravagant and modern costumes while maintaining its Amazigh spirit–celebrating the land and community.

"They can cancel the sacrifice, but this can't be cancelled. For me, this is Eid. This is what I wait for every year," Siham Azeroual, a young Amazigh woman, said to TNA.

So while Moroccans may have to skip 'boulfaf'—the grilled sheep liver dish that marks the start of the Eid meal—they will still gather to enjoy Ahidous music and the lively, subversive spirit of Boujloud festival.