Metal shards tore through the cabin of the royal Boeing 727. At an altitude of 3,000 meters, four Moroccan Air Force F-5 fighter jets, piloted by officers loyal to General Mohamed Oufkir, were shooting at their own monarch. King Hassan II, returning from France to Rabat, was aboard. The attack killed eight people and wounded dozens. The king, unharmed, grabbed the intercom and impersonated a dead officer, telling the rebel pilots their mission was accomplished. It was not.
The coup was the second attempt in fifteen months. General Oufkir, the king’s own defense minister and the architect of a failed 1971 palace siege, orchestrated this aerial assassination. The plot relied on the loyalty of senior air force personnel. It failed because the aging Boeing, though damaged, remained airborne, and because the king’s presence of mind created confusion. Upon landing at Rabat-Salé Airport, Hassan II walked down the stairs, inspected the bullet-riddled aircraft, and smoked a cigarette. Oufkir was found dead later that night from what was officially declared suicide.
This event mattered because it consolidated the king’s power through a paradox of perceived divine survival and ruthless secular repression. The narrative of the monarch’s miraculous escape, bolstered by his calm performance on the tarmac, was woven into state propaganda. Simultaneously, it triggered a severe crackdown. The air force was purged, and dissent was silenced more forcefully than before.
The attack’s legacy is a historical footnote of Cold War-era instability, often overshadowed by regional conflicts. It cemented Hassan II’s rule for another three decades, demonstrating that in Morocco, the ultimate authority flew not in a fighter jet, but on a commercial airliner that refused to fall.
