Estado Liberal de Derecho

The complexity of the Franco-Algerian past and the unique ways this has unfolded within the

harki community, both during and after the war, means that the transmission of history and memory has followed neither a chronological nor a linear trajectory. The absence of the past within harki families pushed an increasingly militant second generation to look outside of their community for information concerning their history, a quest which brought them into contact with a range of pre-existing external groups that sought to speak on behalf of their parents. Over the following decades the complicated relationship between these various actors played itself out, culminating in the reclamation by the filsand filles de harkisof their own voice and the extrication of their history from the tangled web of other people’s narratives. Now firmly in control of the historical and commemorative agenda for their own community, what is interesting about this second generation activism is the impact it has had upon the first generation, namely the way in which it has fostered a greater willingness among harkisand their spouses to speak publicly of their own experiences. This is certainly the case for Zoulikha who explains: ‘Aujourd’hui, je suis très fière que nos enfants se battent pour l’honneur de leurs pères. Je suis aussi très contente de témoigner pour laisser une trace à nos arrière-arrière-petits-enfants afin qu’ils aient un peu d’information sur notre grande aventure’.711

The activism of their descendants has not only raised the profile of the harki

community by sensitising the French public to the complexity of their history but, by breaking with ideologically driven interpretations, has also created more space for experiences that fall outside of these narrow explanatory frameworks. This development has been further nurtured by the co-incidence of the new found desire to ‘laisser une trace’ with an increasingly concerted effort by activists and academics to seek out and disseminate these memories resulting in a growing body of testimony. Although there are criticisms that can be levelled against this process, without such undertakings our knowledge of the harki

experience would be immeasurably poorer. In addition to possessing resources not easily available toharkis, mediation through a third party can also provide crucial legitimacy and a sense of worth, especially when dealing with traumatic or occulted events. It is furthermore the case that the reawakened interest in the War of Independence, which shows no sign of abating, has helped ensure an audience for these accounts. With the passing of time and changing social and political contexts it has become easier for the harkis to articulate their experiences, not least because after more than forty years living in France, mostharkis now speak the language and often live amongst the mainstream population. Finally, the first

711_{Fatima Besnaci-Lancou,Nos mères: paroles blessées: Une autre histoire de harkis,(Léchelle,}

generation are entering the later stages of their lives when reflection is commonplace. Articulating the combined result of these elements, Djida, the wife of aharki,stated ‘Je n’ai jamais raconté ce qui nous est arrivé…mais maintenant, c’est différent’.712

The gestation of testimonies like Djida’s has thus been shaped by such a wide array of factors and has taken place over such a long time span that the existence of a ‘pure’, unmediated first generation memory is highly doubtful. This does not mean that questions such as who is speaking for whom, to whom, and why become moot, but rather that discourses should not be automatically discounted simply because they do not come to us directly from the mouths of the actors themselves. Analysing the processes through which these narratives and their carriers have gone is what enables the resultant composite picture of the past to be properly contextualised and thus understood. It is this bricolage past that will now be outlined in order to put the flesh of human experience onto the factual bones of the

harki trajectory outlined in the introduction and to highlight the current state of historical understanding of this community. The structure will reflect the key stages of the harki experience, moving from engagement, through exile, to life in France, but will also consider the importance of less tangible issues such as choice, betrayal, regret, and nostalgia before concluding with an analysis of the gaps that still remain in our knowledge of this rich and diverse population.

‘Ils s’étaient engagésavecla France et non pour la France’

The lowest common denominator with respect to theharkis is that they all served under the French flag during the War of Independence. This is however, where the similarities end. In contrast to external actors who sought to group theharkisunder a cohesive master narrative, the testimonies of those who actually fought reveal a much messier reality. What is most obvious is the rejection of the idea that theirs was a ‘choice’, in the sense of a voluntary decision made with a full awareness of the implications of their actions. Jordi’s description of Khélifa Haroud as ‘un homme qui a été plus victime des circonstances qu’acteur de sa propre vie’ appears to be emblematic of the group as a whole, calling into question the ideological connotations often attached to the service of the harkis, a point underscored by Besnaci- Lancou’s remark that theharkis‘s’étaient engagésavecla France et non pour la France’.713

Further undermining ideological justifications is the fact that siding with the French was not at the time perceived to be the betrayal that it later came to be portrayed as. The

712_{Jean-Jacques Jordi, ‘Khélifa Haroud: harki 1957-1967’, inDes hommes et des femmes en guerre}

d’Algérie,ed. by Jean-Charles Jauffret, (Paris, 2003), p.370.

713_{Ibid. p.360; Fatima Besnaci-Lancou,Fille de harki: Le bouleversant témoignage d’une enfant de la}

French had been in Algeria for more than a century and during that time had fought numerous wars with the assistance of colonial troops. Many harkis had fathers and grandfathers who had served in the French army during two World Wars. These men were justifiably proud of their service records and their children were raised on their war stories. Brahmin Sadouni’s father, injured by a shell while serving as an artilleryman in the Second World War, would say of his scars: ‘Tu vois mon fils, ces petites choses, je les ai gagnées avec mon sang et grâce à mon courage’.714Even those without connections to the harkis,such as Zorah, an Algerian living in Paris were still able to appreciate the importance of this legacy of combat, remarking

‘l’Algérie à l’époque, c’était comme qui dirait un département, comme le 75

aujourd’hui…Alors, faire la guerre à côté des Français, c’était normal’.715

This is linked to the broader question of whether we can speak of the Algerian population being nationalist. Benjamin Stora has argued that the extent of French penetration and domination, combined with their strategy of political, cultural, and ideological depersonalisation meant that the FLN found themselves in the minority and having to ‘se battre contre des gens qui n’auraient plus de conscience d’appartenance nationale’.716 In support of this contention, Stora recounts an interview conducted in 1975 by the journalist Guy Sitbon with Ali, a harki. When asked about having fought ‘contre ton peuple’, Ali replied:

On parlait pas de peuple à La Chiffa, à La Chiffa on parlait de La Chiffa, c’est tout. Il n’y avait pas de journaux, il n’y avait pas de radio. On savait rien à La Chiffa. On savait seulement qu’il y avait la guerre.717

The majority of harkis were from rural areas far from the political decision-making centres and knew little of what was happening beyond their immediate environs, especially given the extremely high rates of illiteracy. In these circumstances it was not really possible to betray one’s brothers because harkis did not conceive of the war in such politicised terms. ‘L’histoire, nous la subissions’’argued onesupplétif, casting himself and his fellowharkisas pawns in a game whose wider context they were almost entirely ignorant of.718 These comments are echoed in Kerchouche’s description of her father’s enrolment: ‘Il ne sait pas, au moment où il appose une croix en guise de paraphe, au bas de son contrat, qu’il devient un

714

Brahim Sadouni,Français sans patrie: La Reconnaissance,(Rouen, 1985), p.33.

715_{Yamina Benguigui,Mémoires d’immigrés: L’héritage Maghrébin,(Paris, 1997), p.93.}

716_{Benjamin Stora and Dimitri Nicolaïdis, ‘Cicatriser l’Algérie: Entretien avec Benjamin Stora’, in}

Oublier nos crimes: L’amnésie nationale, une spécialité française?,ed. by Dimitri Nicolaïdis, (Paris, 2002), p.206.

717_{Ibid. p.206.}

‘harki’, un traître à une cause qu’il ne connaît pas et qui le dépasse’.719 This adds great poignancy to his confession: ‘Moi, je n’ai jamais choisi la France, je me suis toujours considéré comme algérien’.720

However, feeling oneself to be Algerian did not automatically equate to enrolling in the FLN, not least because actually joining was no easy matter. The nature of the guerrilla war being waged forced the FLN to operate restrictive selection procedures. Much is made of French troops not knowing whom they could trust, but the FLN were in a similar position, especially once the French actively started recruiting the indigenous population. On a practical level, the FLN were simply not able to equip, arm, and feed a large force, while ancestral and personal rivalries further limited intake. Finally, in the later stages of the war when victory was regarded as imminent, many within the FLN became anxious about potentially having to share their spoils with a slew of last-minute recruits.721Not only was a positive choice to side with the FLN problematic, many Algerians were repulsed by the conduct of the FLN, in particular their brutality, which was often indiscriminate. ‘Nous aurions pu être fier d’aider nos frères’ testified one harki spouse, ‘s’ils n’avaient pas été si violents et autoritaires’.722 Chafing under demands for food and money as well as arbitrary rules such as the prohibition on smoking, the fact that many FLN soldiers ‘ne se comportaient pas en hommes d’honneur’ in a society where honour was extremely highly valued, was the last straw.723 Furthermore, the general atmosphere of suspicion that reigned during the war meant that many harkis had family members killed by the FLN in the course of collective reprisals, cases of mistaken identity, or simply because they were rumoured to harbour pro- French sympathies. This pushed some, if not directly into the arms of the French, then certainly away from the militant cause.724 No one could have predicted the outcome of the conflict, but this in itself was a further factor that drew theharkis into the French camp. The French had been such a dominant fact of life for so long that for many it was inconceivable that they would eventually be vanquished by ‘une poignée de révolutionnaires mal armés’, especially given France’s track-record at subduing rebellions in Algeria.725To men like Ali Tayeb, France seemed ‘invincible’ and consequently ‘nous n’imaginions pas un autre destin’.726 However, if the logic of obeying the ‘maître de l’heure’ was not sufficiently

719

Dalila Kerchouche,Mon père, ce harki,(Paris, 2003),p.228.

720_Ibid,p.254.

721_{Mohand Hamoumou, ‘Comment pouvait-on être harki?’Migrations études,23 (December 1991), 2.} 722

Besnaci-Lancou,Fille de harki,p.43.

723_{Sabrina Kassa,Nos ancêtres les Chibanis! Portrait d’Algériens arrivés en France pendant les}

Trente Glorieuses,(Paris, 2006), p.116.

724_{The same was of course true of the French and their behaviour undoubtedly influenced many}

Algerians to actively side with the nationalists.

725_{Saïd Ferdi,Un enfant dans la guerre,(Paris, 1981) p.21.}

persuasive, the French were not above playing dirty in order to recruit, as Said Ferdi’s experience illustrates.

In all of this, protection was paramount. Most harkis desired nothing more than to stay out of the conflict. However, the first FLN tract of the war clearly stated that neutrality was not an option since ‘se désintéreser de la lutte est une trahison’.727Algerians may have had very little in terms of material possessions, but what they did have was very precious to them and they sought above all to protect that, along with their families and themselves as best they could. Subjected to intimidation and exaction by both the FLN and the French, often the choice of side came down to the simple fact of who was the more willing to provide a rifle. This was the case for Ali:

Moi, je voulais un fusil. Quand il y a la guerre, pour vivre tranquille, il faut avoir un fusil…Mes trois cousins, ils étaient montés dans la montagne avec le FLN pour avoir un fusil. Mon frère et moi, on a manqué l’occasion…Alors quand l’officier français nous a dit qu’il allait nous donner un fusil, on n’a pas voulu manquer une autre occasion…728

However, the French were able to offer other, equally powerful, incentives, principally la solde. The war all but destroyed rural economies, leaving families destitute and many, including Kerchouche’s father, eventually opted to enrol asharkisbecause they could see no other way to provide for their families. Assigned to the Groupe mobile de police rurale (GMPR) Kerchouche’s father received a monthly wage of 250 francs; a relative fortune at the time for such families.729 Yet it was also not uncommon for one member of a family to become aharkiand use his wages to support the entire family, while his other male relatives fought for the less financially remunerative FLN.

Such divisions do not appear to have engendered great bitterness or animosity possibly because of the long history of engagement alongside the French and lack of political investment in the conflict which led manyharkis to regard their actions as ‘un travail comme un autre’.730 The idea of being employed to protect their own people is also a feature of numerous testimonies. Eric Taleb for example was asked by an illiterateharkito write a letter to his son explaining that his job was not to fight those who sought independence, but simply to guard the various farms in the region which would constitute the future wealth of a

727_{Hamoumou, ‘Comment pouvait-on être harki?’, 7.}

728_{Benjamin Stora,Ils venaient d’Algérie: L’immigration algérienne en France 1912-1992, (Paris,}

1992), p.403.

729_{Kerchouche,Mon père,p.228.} 730_{Ibid. p.228.}

sovereign Algeria.731 There is also an insistence on their lack of active combat with harkis

specifically stating that neither they, nor those in their units, ever actually killed Algerians. ‘J’ai fait mal à personne,’ Ali insisted, ‘Jamais j’ai tiré avec mon fusil, sauf deux ou trois fois à l’instruction. Je savais pas tirer’.732

Ultimately, becoming aharkiwas less a choice and more of a practical necessity, or a last resort. ‘Enfin voilà, je pense que 95% des supplétifs ne se sont pas engagés pour le plaisir’ asserts Ali Tebib, an assessment that chimes with Homer Sutton’s description of the

harkis as ‘neither heroes nor traitors’ but rather ‘exemplary victims of a colonial system which confiscated their choices’.733 What comes across most strongly from the available testimonies is that there was no grand patriotic narrative, or indeed any overarching rationale, simply a collection of individuals forced to respond to the particular and extreme situations they found themselves in. These accounts reflect a desire on the part of harkis to evoke the context in which their actions were taken and, in light of this, to justify decisions that retrospectively seemed incomprehensible to many external observers.

Exile: ‘Pour moi, une autre guerre commençait’

In July 1962 independence was celebrated throughout Algeria. However, for those who had been engaged on the losing side this was less a new dawn than the beginning of a nightmare: ‘Pour moi’ Khélifa Haroud stated, ‘une autre guerre commençait’.734 Regarding the terrible violence that swept Algeria that summer, the harkis remain largely silent. When the massacres are mentioned it is either in general terms to evoke the climate of terror which reigned at the time, or specific events are described in the context of this being the particular point at which they realised they had to leave Algeria in order to save their own lives. For Brahim Sadouni’s uncle, this moment came when he witnessed the beating to death of a nineteen year old auxillary by the FLN while the French army stood by: ‘J’étais boulversé. Comment pouvait-on faire prevue de tant de violence contre un adolescent? La France qui l’avait enrôlé, avait permis qu’il soit lynché sans le moindre simulacre de justice’.735

The actual moment of departure tended to be sudden. Often the French would simply arrive without warning to evacuate the luckier harkis. ‘Un depart complètement improvisé!’ is how one fils de harkisdescribed it. ‘Personne n’avait été averti…Nous sommes partis les mains vides…Tout s’est arrêté d’un coup, figé d’un coup, comme s’il y avait eu une éruption

731

Éric Taleb,La fin des harkis,(Paris, 1972), p.175.

732_{Stora,Ils venaient,p.404.}

733_{Cited in Kassa,Nos ancêtres,p.122; Homer B. Sutton, ‘Postcolonial Voices: Vindicating the}

Harkis’,Contemporary French Civilization,20 (1996), 238.

734

Cited in Jordi, ‘Khélifa Haroud’, p.365.

735_{Sadouni,Français sans patrie,p.19. In contrast to these personal testimonies, narratives offered on}

volcanique. C’était la panique…’736For those who were forced to make their own way, either to the nearest French barracks or port, the need to conceal their intentions for fear of being stopped and captured by the FLN again meant travelling light. Even once passage to France had been secured, feelings appear to have been very mixed. Relief, regret, sadness, anxiety