On 7 May 1975, the normally peaceful town of Sainte Livrade to the east of Bordeaux was wracked by violence as youths from the nearby Bias camp embarked upon a series of destructive riots. As the unrest rapidly spread, the profile of the orchestrators rose in tandem with the media coverage they attracted. This was how many people came to learn of the
harkis and also of their impoverished and marginalised status in contemporary France. Hidden from view and effectively imprisoned, often behind barbed wire, in camps or forestry hamlets situated in remote rural areas, the historical trajectory of theharkiswas encapsulated by the prominent protest slogan ‘After betrayal, abandonment; after abandonment, exile; after exile, oblivion’.458By 1975, conditions in these camps, which were only ever designed to be temporary but had now been in use for over a decade, had deteriorated. This, in combination with the continued harsh discipline and lack of freedom to which residents were subjected, had begun to generate significant frustrations particularly among the descendants of the
harkis, many of whom were now entering adulthood.459 When these simmering tensions boiled over during the summer of 1975, they were framed by demands for the practical amelioration of the situation of theharkis and their families, but also for a revalorisation of their history. Tired of being les oubliés de l’histoire, the fils de harkis were determined to gain recognition on behalf of their parents for the sacrifices they had made for France and the suffering they had endured as a consequence.460
However, the fils de harkis were not alone in this desire and in fact were relative latecomers to the harkiactivist scene. The thirteen years since the Algerian War ended had witnessed a range of representations offered by a series of self-appointed spokespeople who, in the absence of direct testimony from within the harkicommunity and often in the service of their own objectives, took it upon themselves to speak on behalf of theharkis. Collective discourses were constructed by external groups from the Algerian and French governments who proposed reductive characterisations of the harkis as either traitors or loyal patriots in accordance with their respective national historical narratives, to sub-state groups such as the
458Mohand Hamoumou, with Abderahmen Moumen, ‘L’histoire des harkis et Français musulmans: la
fin d’un tabou?’, inLa Guerre d’Algérie 1954-2004: la fin de l’ amnésie,ed. by Mohammed Harbi and Benjamin Stora (Paris, 2004), p.339.
459Michel Roux estimated that two thirds of those who took part in the 1975 protests were under
twenty.Les harkis: les oubliés de l’histoire 1954-1991,(Paris, 1991),p.325.
460
The gendered termfils de harkishas been deliberately used here to reflect the fact that activism in the period under discussion was an overwhelmingly male dominated and directed endeavour. While the wives and widows ofharkiswere often a consideration for these activists and some women did participate in the protests, it was not until the post-2000 period that female spokespeople from within theharkicommunity assumed a prominent role. Although the gender differential at work within the
harkicommunity is a fascinating and understudied topic, unfortunately a detailed consideration is beyond the scope of this thesis.
former Muslim elite of colonial Algeria, French ex-army personnel, and the pied-noir
community all of whom felt a connection to, and sense of responsibility for, the harkis. Enjoying material and cultural advantages not available to the majority ofancien supplétifsor their descendants, these actors were able to dominate the portrayal of theharkisin the years immediately following Algerian independence. It was not until the 1970s that their presentations began to be challenged by an emerging core of activists from within the harki
community, and not until 1991 that these activists could classify themselves as an organised and mature collective memory carrier with their own distinctive voice.
Having already examined the events that brought the harkis and their families to France and the provisions put in place to accommodate these new arrivals, this chapter will begin by focusing on the impact these experiences had on the harkis. This is intended to suggest the reasons underlying the reluctance of harkis to speak of their past, which in turn provides the context for the ability of external commentators to initially dominate representations of the community. It also explains why the internal reappropriation of the past was an endeavour undertaken primarily by the second generation as opposed to the harkis
themselves.461 The images presented by groups outside of the harki community and the motivations behind them will then be examined, juxtaposed with the portraits of the harki
community disseminated through the French media. Finally, the chapter will trace the ways these representations were variously accepted or rejected by the fils de harkis before being mixed with their own memories and experiences to produce a composite version of the past around which to base their activism. The year 1991 provides a natural end point, signifying both the attainment of the status of a coherent and independent memory carrier by thefils de harkis, as well as a turning point in the commemoration and discussion of the War of Independence generally in France.
‘Mon père ne nous en a jamais parlé’
The most widely attested to characteristic of the harkis, by both family members and academics, is their recalcitrance when it comes to discussing the past. There were many reasons underpinning the silence of harkis. In the first instance, harkis faced a range of linguistic, cultural, and economic barriers that inhibited the transmission of history and memory at a very practical level. Those who arrived in France at the end of the war were overwhelmingly of rural origin, unskilled and illiterate, many not even able to speak French.
461The terms ‘first generation’ and ‘second generation’ are not meant to suggest that there is a second
generation ofharkis,nor to deny the French nationality of descendants of theharkis.Rather, the term is used to convey the idea of there being a memory pertaining specifically to those who lived through the years 1954 to 1962, the first generation, which is distinct from, but nonetheless intimately connected to, the history and identity of their descendants, that is to say to the second generation.
Thrown into a completely alien world, simply adjusting to their new situation was a full-time occupation for most harkis and their wives. Even those harkis who possessed the relative advantage of being able to read, write and speak French quickly discovered that finding people willing to listen when you are part of a marginalised, socially disempowered minority was no easy task. This situation was compounded by the physical isolation of the harkis. Whatever form ofcentre d’accueilthey were housed in, the fact remains that theharkis were
mis à l’écart and denied contact with the wider populace. The only autochthonous French people they interacted with were themilitairesandpieds-noirsin charge of the camps, or the members of the Croix Rougewho came periodically to donate clothes and make inspections. This segregation left theharkisunable to ‘faire l’apprentissage de la France’ and exacerbated their sentiment of being a population with neither nationality nor territory.462TheharkiSaïd Ferdi closed his 1981 memoir with the observation: ‘je peux affirmer que ce furent celles de centaines de milliers de gens restés vingt ans sans patrie. Pour eux, comme moi, il n’y a ni terre natale, ni frontiers. Nous ne reconnaissons dans aucun pays…’463 Furthermore, many families spent time in several of these locations before finally achieving permanent settlement, a disruptive and distressing process that appeared to operate at random as far as the harkis were concerned. Given the importance of group and spatial stability for the construction of social frameworks of memory, it is easy to see why the insecure situations into which theharkiswere placed militated against the transmission of memories.464
On both the physical and mental periphery of France, the harkis reacted to their marginalisation by turning in on themselves.465 Although the harki community was not a natural phenomenon and the camps were a mix of tribes, regions, dialects, and religions, the shared experiences of loss, isolation, and deprivation forged a powerful sense of unity and an ethos of mutual aid. It was also the case that certain customs and practices common to life in Algeria transcended these divisions providing a point of anchorage for dislocated individuals. While taking mint tea with aharki, the interviewer for the 1977 documentaryHarkisasked if maintaining traditions such as this acted as a barrier to integration in France. His host replied that continuing to do as they did in Algeria was simply an expression of nostalgia for a country they were forbidden from returning to.466 Certain traditions however, while they might not have prevented integration, did inhibit the transmission of the past. Silence in this
462Mohand Hamoumou, ‘Les harkis, un trou de mémoire franco-algérien’,Esprit,161 (May 1990), 39. 463Saïd Ferdi,Un enfant dans la guerre,(Paris, 1981), p.206.
464
This observation has also been made by Jim House with respect to the Algerian immigrant population in France who suffered similarly precarious living condition inbidonvillesandfoyers.Jim House and Neil MacMaster,Paris 1961: Algerians, State Terror and Memory,(Oxford, 2006), p.266.
465Although a defensive response prompted by their own sense of rejection, this was often mistaken for
a refusal to integrate. Mohand Hamoumou, ‘Révoltes des enfants d’anciens harkis: quelques clés pour comprendre’,Esprit,174 (September 1991), 113.
context was linked to the culture of paternal deference and respect. Family hierarchies were extremely important toharkiswho considered it the man’s job to provide for and rule over his spouse and children in order to ensure that family honour was maintained. This role did not include being emotionally open or demonstrative. As onefille de harkiexplained, ‘dans notre culture…les enfants ne posent pas de question aux parents. Encore moins les filles à leurs pères. Alors, j’ai grandi avec ces questions sans réponses’.467 More persistently inquisitive children were often rebuffed with the Kabyle maxim ‘li fat met’, the past is dead. This emotional distance was frequently compounded by the physical absence of fathers who, if they were able to find work, worked long hours and six days a week. However, the emasculated environment in which the majority ofharkiswere forced to live undermined this authoritative ideal often leading to a loss of self-respect. Constrained and dictated to by forces beyond their control, rendered passive and dependent outside their homes, many unable to find work and thus provide for their families or even to occupy themselves during the long days, these déracinémen suffered ‘un véritable tremblement de terre psychologique’ which naturally affected their relationships within the family circle.468References to alcoholism and domestic violence are quite frequent. In the Bias bar, Boussad Azni described the atmosphere of despair where:
[L]es harkis traînaient toute la journée…Ils buvaient, ils jouaient aux cartes, ils se disputaient, ils se bagarraient. Toute cette violence en eux l’écho des violences qu’ils avaient subis, se retournait contre eux-mêmes. C’était une manière de suicide lent…Mon père y passait ses journées, et rentrait soûl, le soir.469
These accounts suggest a process of retreat as traumatised individuals attempted to come to terms with their past and present. As much as there were practical obstacles to the organisation and transmission of memory, there was an even more potent lack of will to carry out such tasks on the part of theharkis themselves. One of the principal reasons behind this behaviour was the fear that pervaded the harkicommunity. Thezones à forte concentration
essentially exported and replicated the mentality and power structures of colonial Algeria with all the attendant exploitation and mistreatment, especially as the oversight of these camps tended to be entrusted topieds-noirs or military personnel who had spent part of their career in North Africa. This rendered the harkis dependent upon them to meet their most
467Quoted in Jean-Jacques Jordi and Mohand Hamoumou,Les harkis, une mémoire enfouie,(Paris,
1999),p.121.
468Abd-el-Aziz Méliani,Le drame des harkis,(Paris, 2001), p.196.
basic needs and thus almost completely at their mercy.470 Insults, arbitrary discipline, and deprivations were consequently suffered in silence because there was no other option, no external recourse. A doctor who had been assigned to Bias for three months at the age of twenty-five, but who had ended up staying for thirty years provided the following damming assessment of the mentality that reigned in the camps:
Ils ont recrée l’Algérie de papa, avec l’anisette, la kémia et tous les poncifs de là-bas. Les pieds-noirs traitaient les harkis comme des indigènes: ils les dépréciaient, les manipulaient, les humiliaient. Ils étaient ravis d’avoir ramené un morceau d’Algérie coloniale avec eux, d’avoir rapatrié leurs fellahs. Les uns dominaient les autres, c’était la logique du système.471
In these self-enclosed environments with their vastly unequal power structures, the threat of punishment was powerful and used regularly to keep theharkis‘in line’. Punishments ranged from being deprived of food, money, or privileges, to expulsion from the camp, being sent to the infamous ‘Centre’ (in fact three disciplinary youth centres located in Pau, Moumar, and Gelos), or being sent to Candélie, the harki psychiatric hospital. This latter fate befell Boussad Anzi’s father who was forcibly removed and ‘hospitalised’ following an altercation with the head of the camp.472The ultimate disciplinary threat, however, was being sent back to Algeria. Upon discovering the terrible living conditions at Rivesaltes, Kerchouche’s parents dared not complain because they were ‘terrifiés à l’idée que les soldats ne les renvoient en Algérie’.473These fears persisted beyond the walls of the camps. After a decade spent in various locations, Kerchouche’s parents eventually succeeded in purchasing a small home of their own. Yet when Kerchouche told her mother of her intention to write a book tracing their family history almost thirty years later, she was surprised by her reaction: ‘Quand j’ai parlé à ma mère de mon projet…elle m’a dit, craintive: “Et s’ils nous le reprochent?” Moi, scandalisé: “Si quelqu’un a des reproches à faire, c’est toi, pas eux”’.474It is only as Kerchouche learns about her parents’ history that she begins to understand the source of their ongoing anxieties and comes to appreciate that it is ‘Par peur de recevoir des
470Tom Charbit, ‘Un petit monde colonial en métropole: Le camps de harkis de Saint-Maurice-
l’Ardoise (1962-1976)’,Politix,76 (2006), 45. This policy has also been noted by Choukri Hmed in relation to Algerian immigrants who lived in SONACOTRA foyers during the 1960s and 1970s. See ‘“Tenir ses hommes”: La gestion des étrangers “isolés” dans les foyers SONACOTRA après la guerre d’Algérie’,Politix,76 (2006), 11-30.
471Dalila Kerchouche,Mon père, ce harki,(Paris, 2003), p.148. 472
Anzi,Harkis,p.121
473Kerchouche,Mon père,p.57. 474Ibid. p.15.
coups, craignent le jugement de l’Histoire, les harkis hesitant à parler. Comme si parler et écrire, était trahir encore…’475
These fears existed alongside the trauma of the exceptionally violent end of French Algeria which left both physical and mental scars. The majority ofharkis fled their homeland fearing, with great justification, for their lives. ‘Malgré les soucis nous étions contents d’avoir trouvé d’asile’ explained one, ‘Chaque fois que nous entendions raconter ce qu’il s’était passé au bled, nous disions merci à Dieu. Merci, d’avoir survécu, parce que ça n’avait pas été le cas de tout le monde’.476Yet even though they knew they were the lucky ones, noharkisurvived unscathed; many had lost members of their families, or had witnessed scenes of atrocity and some had themselves been the victims of torture. This was in addition to the trauma of having to leave their homes, belongings and in many cases members of their family behind with little or no forewarning and frequently at great personal risk. In a state of shock, ‘la population se replié sur elle-même, passé ses blessures, tente d’oublier le cauchemar’ with the result that during the early decades of their lives in France, ‘un véritable “travail de deuil” s’est effectué en silence’.477 Boussad Azni described the camps he grew up in as being full of people ‘emprisonnés dans leurs pensées plus sûrement encore que derrière les barbelés’.478
These silences did not imply that the harkis had forgotten, not least because in the case of those who had been injured, or captured and tortured, they bore physical reminders of their ordeals. ‘Je garde présents à la mémoire d’affreux souvenirs’, wrote Saïd Ferdi, ‘et, si j’essaie de les oublier, les traces physiques que je porte aujourd’hui me rapellent à chaque instant les heures douloureuse de mon passé’.479 Instead, silence was often used as a coping mechanism. A former teacher who worked with theharkis in Manosque felt that the past was just ‘trop dur à porter et même à expliquer’.480 His assessment alludes to the factor that provided the final nail in this coffin of silence: the difficulty of explaining the ‘choice’ the
harkis had made which, according to the dominant contemporary narratives, was to be either Algerian traitors or French patriots, depending which side of the Mediterranean you were on. Of course the reality of the situation was infinitely more complex and the notion of ‘choice’ distinctly problematic but, whatever the nuances of individual histories, the years 1954-1962 were, for the majority of harkis, a past that was difficult for them to understand and assume themselves, let alone to communicate and justify to others. Upon reaching thirty, onefils de harki asked his father to tell him a little about what had happened in Algeria. His father
475
Ibid,p.15.
476Cited in Bernard Derrieu et al.,La Cité de Tapis: une communauté de rapatriés d’Algérie, (Pézenas,