Morocco aims to boost legal cannabis farming and tap a global boom

In the rugged Rif Mountains of Morocco, 70-year-old Mohamed Makhlouf tends to his cannabis crop with a newfound sense of security. After decades of operating in fear, he now cultivates government-approved cannabis strains openly, selling to local cooperatives without worry when police pass by.

“Legalization is freedom,” Makhlouf says. “If you want your work to be clean, you work with the companies and within the law.”

Makhlouf represents a growing contingent of farmers transitioning from Morocco’s vast black market to the legal cannabis industry after the country’s landmark 2021 legislation that authorized cultivation for medicinal and industrial purposes.

Morocco holds a significant position in global cannabis production, ranking as the world’s largest producer and the primary supplier of resin used in hashish production. For generations, authorities have vacillated between turning a blind eye and aggressive enforcement, creating a climate of uncertainty for growers.

The cannabis economy directly or indirectly supports hundreds of thousands of people throughout the Rif Mountains, according to UN reports and government data. As farmer Abdelsalam Amraji explains, the crop is essential to regional survival.

“Local farmers have tried cultivating wheat, nuts, apples, and other crops, but none have yielded viable results,” he says.

The region has long been known for anti-government sentiment, with many growers living under the constant threat of arrest. Many avoided urban areas entirely, fearing apprehension, while others watched helplessly as authorities destroyed their fields during government eradication campaigns.

Though illegal cannabis commands higher prices, Amraji maintains the reduced risk of legal cultivation outweighs potential financial gains. “Making money in the illegal field brings fear and problems. When everything is legal, none of that happens.”

Morocco’s reform began in 2021 when it became the first major illegal cannabis producer and first Muslim-majority country to legalize certain forms of cultivation. Officials framed the move as an economic development strategy to alleviate poverty among small-scale farmers and integrate marginalized cannabis-growing regions into the national economy.

In a significant gesture of reconciliation earlier this year, King Mohammed VI pardoned more than 4,800 farmers serving prison sentences to allow longtime growers “to integrate into the new strategy,” according to the justice ministry.

Since implementation in 2022, the government has strictly regulated every aspect of production and distribution, from seed selection and pesticide use to licensing and sales. While certain cultivation is now permitted, officials have shown no interest in legalizing recreational use or consumption.

“We have two contradictory missions that are really to allow the same project to succeed in the same environment,” explains Mohammed El Guerrouj, director-general of Morocco’s cannabis regulatory agency. “Our mission as policemen is to enforce regulations. But our mission is also to support farmers and operators so they succeed in their projects.”

The regulatory body issued licenses to over 3,371 growers across the Rif last year and recorded nearly 4,200 tons of legal cannabis production. Near Bab Berred, the Biocannat cooperative purchases cannabis from approximately 200 small farmers during harvest season.

This raw plant material is transformed into CBD oil, lotions, and edibles that now appear on pharmacy shelves throughout Morocco. Some is processed into industrial hemp for textiles, while medicinal products and exports are refined to contain less than 1% THC, the psychoactive compound that produces cannabis’s high.

Aziz Makhlouf, who directs the cooperative and comes from a family with deep roots in cannabis cultivation, points to the broader economic benefits of legalization. “There are those who handle packaging, those who handle transport, those who handle irrigation — all of it made possible through legalization.”

While legalization has created a framework of licenses, formal cooperatives, and the promise of stable income without legal jeopardy, it has also revealed the limitations of reform. The legal market remains insufficient to absorb the hundreds of thousands who depend on illicit trade, and new regulations have introduced additional pressures.

This August, protests erupted in parts of nearby Taounate when cooperatives failed to pay growers for their crops. Farmers displayed banners reading “No legalization without rights” and “Enough procrastination,” expressing outrage that promised payments never materialized despite their compliance with government regulations.

Government officials maintain that the transformation is only beginning and that challenges can be overcome with time. However, black market demand remains robust. Currently, cannabis is legally cultivated on 14,300 acres in the Rif, while more than 67,000 acres are still dedicated to illegal growing, according to government data.

An April report from the Global Institute Against Transnational Organized Crime described the situation as “more one of coexistence of both markets than a decisive transition from one to the other.”

“A substantial proportion of the population continue to rely on illicit cannabis networks for income generation, perpetuating the dynamics that the state is trying to reform,” the report concluded.

For now, Morocco’s dual cannabis economies exist in parallel—one regulated and one outlawed—as the nation attempts to bring a centuries-old trade into legal compliance without abandoning the farmers who have sustained it.

As Amraji reflects with amazement on the transformation: “Cannabis is legal now, just like mint. I never imagined I’d one day be authorized to grow it. I’m shocked.”