Journal, 1955-1962: Reflections on the French-Algerian War

by Mouloud Feraoun, James D. Le Sueur (Editor), Mary Ellen Wolf (Translator)

“This honest man, this good man, this man who never did wrong to anyone, who devoted his life to the public good, and who was one of the greatest writers in Algeria, has been murdered. . . . Not by accident, not by mistake, but called by his name and killed with preference.” So wrote Germaine Tillion in Le Monde shortly after Mouloud Feraoun’s assassination by a right wing French terrorist group, the Organisation Armée Secrète, just three days before the official cease-fire ended Algeria’s eight-year battle for independence from France. However, not even the gunmen of the OAS could prevent Feraoun’s journal from being published. Journal, 1955–1962 appeared posthumously in French in 1962 and remains the single most important account of everyday life in Algeria during decolonization. Feraoun was one of Algeria’s leading writers. He was a friend of Albert Camus, Emmanuel Roblès, Pierre Bourdieu, and other French and North African intellectuals. A committed teacher, he had dedicated his life to preparing Algeria’s youth for a better future. As a Muslim and Kabyle writer, his reflections on the war in Algeria afford penetrating insights into the nuances of Algerian nationalism, as well as into complex aspects of intellectual, colonial, and national identity. Feraoun’s Journal captures the heartbreak of a writer profoundly aware of the social and political turmoil of the time. This classic account, now available in English, should be read by anyone interested in the history of European colonialism and the tragedies of contemporary Algeria.

Genres: History, Nonfiction, Africa, Algeria, War

340 pages, Paperback

First published April 1, 1962

About the author

was an Algerian writer and martyr of the Algerian revolution born in Tizi Hibel, Kabylie
Student of the teacher training colleges Bouzaréah (Algiers), he taught for several years as a teacher, principal and additional courses before being appointed inspector of social centers. Feraoun began writing in 1939 his first novel, The Son of the poor. The book, hailed by critics won the Grand Prix of the city of Algiers.
Some of his books, written in French, have been translated into several languages including English and German. He was assassinated by the French OAS on 15 March 1962.

Reviews

[Andrea · Rating 5 out of 5]

I wish I could clearly state what this book has meant to me, the twisting thought trails and brambled thickets surrounding writing and struggle and humanity it has uncovered, the old sadnesses it has opened and the new ones it has instilled. It is a gift, and one that came at great cost to its author.

The older I get the more I realise that saying things out loud or writing things down does not always help you. These pages were not for Feraoun, they were for us.

I have only scattered ways of marshaling my thoughts, they do not do justice to the ways that we have traveled together, Feraoun's words and I. His pain shared at one remove as the days of this first Algerian war for independence progressed. I was thinking about grouping things thematically, but this progression over painful time must be honored I think.
1955
Reading this after Horne's A Savage War of Peace , what first emerged most strongly to me was the necessity of freeing oneself inside and out from the conquerors, but god the complexities of this. The tragedies. The grief at watching the abyss between peoples grow, knowing it must in the cold light of that original colonial relationship translated into years of continuous oppression. Watching, without turning away, the damage it causes to those inflicting as well as receiving it.

There is also the distance between himself as an intellectual, a writer, a teacher and others -- a distance that many of us must try and manage to some extent. He writes:

This time I saw clearly the glint of malice in his eyes that is so typical of the fellagha in our region. For them, the teacher is both educated and naive, a man with good advice who can inform you about laws and regulations and yet believes everything that you tell him.
--November 13 (18)

On the widening distance between the Kabyles and the French, the essentialising of identities that happens through violence, struggle and war:

...as soon as it is legitimate to judge them as a group, it is no longer troubling for anyone to point out their faults. It is no longer a question of Mr Eugène or Jojo but of the triumphant Frenchman who has taken over his place and gotten rich off our backs. Once you buttress yourself with generalities, you are amazed to discover some very broad horizons.
--December 18 (31)

This emerges among his fellow teachers:

...there is now an impassable breach between us; a rupture that both sides deplore but also endure, knowing that it is inevitable. We avoid talking politics. Our French colleagues are, however, quite tactful. When they comment on a crime, a bomb, an attack, or when they speak about their fears, they always assume that we are on their side, that our fates are identical, in short, that we are just as French as they are. We tolerate the assumption, and everyday life remains bearable.
--December 18 (37)

But I love this description of the meaning of the uprising for the people:

You feel that this crowd is wrapped in a new dignity as stiff as a new suit. A suit cut and made to measure, for which everyone is determined to pay the price.
--December 18 (38)

We come to the crux of the things, the reason for the abyss and this struggle itself, what Horne just did not quite understand and Feraoun struggles to express in this summation of the why and the how of the war at the end of 1955:

How does a European define a native? A common labourer, a maid. A bizarre creature with ridiculous customs, peculiar dress, and an impossible language. A more or less dirty, tattered, and unpleasant character. At any rate, a person on the fringe, quite alone, and let us leave him where he is. It is almost childish to revert to these clichés so quickly. We have been co-existing for a century without the slightest curiosity. The only thing left to do is harvest this mutual indifference that is the opposite of love. (42)

It is still bad faith to talk about their mistakes. From the very beginning they knew what had to be done in order to be on good terms with the natives. they also knew what was required in order to be the only ones to benefit from colonization, much to the detriment of the native. They had to exploit him, make him sweat, beat him, and keep him ignorant. In the beginning there was still a choice to be made, and they made it. Why talk about mistakes at this point? Because now we are demanding accountability? Come on, accountability is more than confessing one's guilt...By accountability, we mean recognizing our right to live, our right to learn and make progress, and our right to be free....So the positions are quite clear: the fight between two different peoples has begun -- the master and the slave. That is all there is to it. To talk, like the press, about an awakening of the Algerian consciousness is frivolous....The Algerians did not wait for the twentieth century to realize that they were Algerians. the best proof of this is that right away they got together behind the liberators. They gathered together because they thought that they were strong enough to fight or die a meaningful death. They united because they expected to success. There were no miraculous phenomena... (43)

More than ever, we are secluding ourselves within our respective worlds, both of which are distinct and hostile. They have their nostalgia for the past, for which they have decided to fight. We maintain the crazy hope of a better future, for which we have decided to die. But as their confidence wavers and discouragement sets in, our self-assurance and courage get stronger. (46)

And this, when will this ever cease to be true?

These people are politicians. Given that we are living in an era in which they are carving words into the flesh of men, this word politician makes us feel like vomiting. (50)

1956
Never for a moment does Faraoun cease to take the side of the rebels in this conflict, and there is never an alternative discussed to the FLN. This does not mean he is not highly critical, or deeply troubled by their strategies while recognising it is hardly his place and feeling guilt over this very critique as he is not the one carrying out this war with a gun in his hands. Still, he writes his thoughts:

The rebels' expectations are both excessive and disappointing. They include prohibitions of all kinds, nothing but prohibitions, dictated by the most obtuse fanaticism, the most intransigent racism, and the most authoritarian fist. In a way, this is true terrorism. There is nothing left for the women of T.A. [ referring to the mosque which this story is describing] except to shrill with enthusiasm in honor of the new era of freedom that they seem to perceive beyond the foggy horizon that our dark mountains inexorably obstruct.
--January 8 (53)

He relates a story about the fellagha -- they stop a jeep carrying a commander and his aide, demand their guns and ammunition and when they are handed over release them and say 'Thank you sir. Have a good day.' Faraoun writes

There are several stories like this one that are making the rounds. In the future they will be worthy of becoming folk stories. This is how people create History.
--January 11 (56)

Another trail leads from this along the tracks of history and its makings, but this is already too long.

The abyss between French and Kabyles has been long opened, yet the pain continues as it stretches wider and deeper, he describes his French Colleagues after another 'terrorist' arrest:

I read anger and hatred in their eyes. there they were, all four of them ready to contradict me, all four ready to insult me with their arrogance, all four of them ready to put me in that category that they despise, that they exploit, that they would massacre, and that they fear. A crazy fear.
--January 30 (65)

Here insights into village life, the need to know what is happening in this place you belong in a sense, for all the complications of that and even if you are far away.

I have received news from back home. Amar spent the night here, and we talked. He began talking, going back in time, one day at a time...I was happy. There are no more empty moments in my mind, and I am able to imagine what it is like without any difficulty.
--February 2 (66)

I love this critique of the French Left, this seems to hold true always and everywhere where histories of race, class, gender and colonialism hide the true nature of oppression from those on the other side of it:

I could say the same thing to Camus and to Roblès. I feel a lot of admiration for the first and brotherly affection for the other. But they are wrong to talk to us when we are waiting for generous hearts if there are any...It is a hundred times better that they remain quiet. Because, in the end, this country is indeed called Algeria and its inhabitants are called Algerians. Why sidestep the evidence? Are you Algerians my friends? you must stand with those who fight. Tell the French that this country does not belong to them, that they took it over by force, and that they intend to remain here by force. Anything else is a lie and in bad faith. Any other language is criminal because, for several months now, crimes have been committed in the name of the same lies...
--February 3 (71)

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[Dennis Cline · Rating 3 out of 5]

Tough read - excellent insight into what many historians cvonsider the root or beginning of modern terrorism at the end of French colonialism.
Good look at the anti-colonial perspective from first person narrative. Leaves a reader wondering who was right and who was wrong - which side was more violent and which side proscribed more to the philosphy of hate as the war dragged on.

[Fatima-Zahra Benarab · Rating 3 out of 5]

لى مدى ستة أعوام يقص علينا مولود فرعون يومياته ابان الثورة الجزائرية. كشاهد عيان لمرور أيام نضال شعب أراد الحرية. ان تدوين هذه الاحداث كان تلبية لطلب مجموعة من أصدقائه الادباء الفرنسين، لهذا نرى ان اول نص دوّن بتاريخ 1 نوفمبر 1955، سنة كاملة بعد انطلاق الثورة. لا يتطرق الكتاب للأحداث التاريخية البارزة التي تدرس في المدارس وتفيض بها كتب التأريخ. بل تقص علينا وبشكل ادق ليس فقط يوميات مولود فرعون بل يوميات شعب قرى ومداشر . تطور الأحداث وانتقالها من جبل الاوراس الى كامل ربوع الوطن. كيف تعامل الجيش الفرنسي مع هذا؟ في البداية كان قتل جندي فرنسي يقابله اعتقال او قتل مواطن جزائري على انه من الثوار ثم تحول نفس الجرم الى قتل مبرح حرق قرى وتشريد السكان وانتهى بتضيق كسبيل أخير لكبح لهيب الثورة. انتقل فرعون بين قرى ومدن من منطقة القبائل كان اخرها العاصمة الجزائرية. من خلال الكتاب نرى نضال مولود فرعون كمدرس مرسخ للهوية الجزائرية في الطلاب من حوله. هوية الانتماء الأصل والأرض. نلاحظ أيضا ان نظرة مولود فرعون للمجاهدين تغيرت في السنوات الأولى كان يسميهم إرهابا وفي الأخير صاروا ثوارا. ان هذا التغير وارد من موقف الشعب الذي كان يجني المعاناة انتقاما من الثوار ثم صار يضطهد لأنه موجود هنا لان هذه ارضه ارض الخيرات التي تريدها فرنسا لها لكن دون شعبها (فيما يذكركم هذا؟). في السنوات الأخيرة ثار الشعب كله لا اتباعا لحزب او مجموعة مجاهدين بل ارادة من الأعماق. "كفانا استعمار الحرية لوطننا الجزائر جزائرية ومسلمة " هتف الشعب فلم يبقى سبيل للحكومة الفرنسية الا ان تعلن فهمها للمطلب المشروع.
يتخلل الكتاب مجموعة من الخواطر وتأملات مولود فرعون لمستقبل الجزائر. جزائر حرة؟ الى أي مدى ستكون حرة؟
ان نهاية الكتاب مريبة حيث نقرا اخر كلماته. اخر تدوينتاه وآمله. قتل ووميض الحرية في عينيه أربعة أيام قبل اعلان وقف إطلاق النار(19 مارس 1962 عيد النصر الموافق). شهيد القلم قتل، ولم يمت فهو حي في كل كلمة تركها اثرا في التاريخ الخالد.
اخترت قراءة الكتاب باللغة التي كتب بها لكيلا يحول بيني وبين فكر الكاتب مترجم

[Melissa · Rating 4 out of 5]

The French-Algerian War is considered to be the first instance of modern Islamic terrorism - a mixture of Islamic identity with Marxist tactics -- to which the French responded with terrible brutality. Mouloud Feraoun, an Algerian schoolteacher, kept these journals throughout the war until his murder by French colonists. Feraoun is an incredible writer, and his ruminations run through a full range of emotion and resignation, hope and fear. The journals bring you into the hearts and minds of Algerians suffering through a hellish conflict after a hundred years of oppression. I came away with a better comprehension of the mindset of those who are uncomfortable with terrorist actions, but understand their motivation, share the resentments, and support the underlying cause. It's not the easiest read -- the journals presume factual knowledge of the war and use French writing conventions, which I found confusing. But it's well worth it for anyone interested in broadening their perspective on an issue that remains with us today.

I've learned a lot from reading multiple perspectives on the war: A Savage War of Peace: Algeria, 1954-1962 for a general history by an outsider; Algerian Chronicles for a French colonial viewpoint; Fantasia: An Algerian Cavalcade for an Algerian feminist perspective; The Wretched of the Earth for a radical revolutionary perspective; and now Feraoun, an Algerian moderate. It's all been enlightening and broadening, but I'm happy to move on now to a different topic.

[Daniel Polansky]

The intimate reflections of a righteous man caught in the horrifying brutality of urban warfare. Feraoun was one of Algeria's leading authors and intellectuals as well as a primary school administrator, and his attempt to understand and survive the collapse of French Algeria makes for poignant and tragic reading. Even-handed in its judgments, sincere in its conviction, this is a profound attempt to grapple with the end of the colonial project and the endless compromises required to survive in wartime. That the author would be murdered by the OAS shortly before the start of independence only offers a bitter poignancy to an already worthwhile work.

[Bee · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm not sure about how I feel exactly about the book. It was a bit shocking to know what was really happening during that time from the prespective of an ordinary citezen. Because between the tyrany of the colonisation and the strict rules of the revolution it was the citezins who suffered the most.

[Nini Ayach · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fascinating and precious description of daily life during the Algerian war of independence. Beautiful reflections and thoughts also.

[Amokrane · Rating 4 out of 5]

Un journal qui nous raconte le quotidien des Algériens durant l'occupation française, il nous montre les difficultés et risques quotidiens que les citoyens sont exposés.

[Sonia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Les raisons de la guerre de libération y sont clairement expliquées...

[Walid hammoudi · Rating 4 out of 5]

je me suis jamais senti aussi impliquer dans une histoire, mouloud feraoun raconte le quotidien des algériens en plein guerre de libération d'une manière aussi simple et attirante, sa façon de voir et traiter les événements dans une période aussi Perturbé et violente m'étonne, d ailleurs même lui avoue " je suis effrayé par ma franchise, mon audace, ma cruauté et parfois mon aveuglement, mon parti-pris" M. F journal page 416.
la simplicité de relié les faits sans arrière pensée sans mystification, révèle beaucoup de choses sur les kabyles, les arabe et les français...

[Souhila · Rating 4 out of 5]

lettres a ses amis

vaut vraiment la peine de découvrir sa vie
Mouloud Feraoun
parceque un kabyle est forcément .. un homme réaliste

[Ray · Rating 5 out of 5]

A lire absolument