A Savage War of Peace: Algeria 1954-1962 (78 page)

Meanwhile, as de Gaulle had intimated to the army during his last
tournée des popotes
in March, consonant with his view of France’s role as a great power, many things had been happening in the outside world to prove that Algeria was not his only worry. At home, de Gaulle had been confronted by the first major wave of social strife since he had assumed power: the farmers of the north had taken to the streets in revolt against his agricultural price policy; there were strikes and lock-outs in many factories; by 1 June 1,300,000 civil servants were out on strike for higher wages. But the biggest shock had come in May when, in pique at the shooting-down of Gary Powers’s U.2 spy-plane over the Urals, Khrushchev had arbitrarily broken off the Paris Summit. The snub aimed at Eisenhower also rubbed off on de Gaulle, who had cherished hopes of deriving international kudos for France from the meeting. Explaining away this set-back in a broadcast at the end of May, de Gaulle declared his determination to give the lead in building up a strong, united and independent Europe. In the meantime, relations with the United States were beginning to crumble after de Gaulle (partly reacting against the Summit debacle) had banned the stocking of American nuclear war-heads on French territory. The U.S.A.A.F. riposted by transferring its bomber squadrons to Germany. De Gaulle ordered the withdrawal of French naval units from the N.A.T.O. Mediterranean fleet, and on 9 June the project of France’s “go-it-alone”
force de frappe
was placed before the Assembly. Five days later, on television, de Gaulle revealed how his thoughts were now evolving. Though couched in general terms, it would also bear particular relevance to France’s future in Algeria, when he told his countrymen of the urgent need “to transform our old France into a new country and make her marry her time”.

The G.P.R.A. and the rough road to negotiations

Since the “self-determination” speech of September 1959, endeavours towards negotiating a cease-fire had jolted along in their usual fruitless and frustrating way, with neither side seemingly able to find a formula for beginning talks that would satisfy promises extracted for internal consumption. (And how often in the history of war does the killing of young men and civilians continue for no better reason than this failure to discover just such a face-saving formula?) The problems of each side ran curiously parallel; no sooner had a peaceful-sounding overture been made than pressure from the protagonists of “no compromise” would force the respective leader to counterpoint with harsh and intransigent noises towards the other side, which in turn would engender more mistrustful reservations. For de Gaulle the governing factor at this stage was to avoid any move that could in any way be interpreted as recognising the F.L.N. as the one competent negotiating partner, while for the G.P.R.A. recognition was their abiding objective. Already, early in 1959, an illustrative episode, one of the several mysterious
démarches
of the war, had taken place. Antoine Pinay, Foreign Minister in the dying days of the Fourth Republic and currently de Gaulle’s Minister of Finance, received word through a Swiss newspaper editor that “responsible” leaders of the F.L.N. (including Ahmed Francis and Maître Ahmed Boumendjel) would be receptive to opening talks with the French government. The person of Pinay was selected on account of his previous negotiations with Morocco where he was well trusted. But de Gaulle had refused, saying: “I don’t want it; because the day after you’ve seen them they will say that I have recognised the F.L.N. government.”

Pinay: “Let me make a proposition, then: if it works, you can take the responsibility; if it fails, you can say it’s just that imbecile Pinay acting on his own initiative!”

De Gaulle: “But who are they, who nominated them?”

Pinay: “In 1940 people were asking exactly the same about you.”

To the chagrin of Pinay, de Gaulle remained adamant. No talks.

Then, some six months later, de Gaulle had made his “self-determination” bid, and the G.P.R.A., after carefully digesting what its attitude should be, had countered with, yet again, a discouragingly negative reply. Yes, they would discuss “self-determination” with de Gaulle, but their delegates to any talks would have to be Ben Bella and the other four hijacked leaders, still languishing under lock and key in France. It was an adroitly calculated move, designed to provoke rejection by de Gaulle. For the G.P.R.A. recognised that the “self-determination” gambit had won for France more points both in Washington and at the United Nations than anything previously attempted; therefore, de Gaulle’s initiative could not be allowed to prosper, and he himself must be made to appear culpable for torpedoing it. Thrown into a state of angry pessimism, de Gaulle reacted as predicted, declaring haughtily that his olive branch was intended for “those who are fighting, not those who are
hors de combat
”.

Thus, by the end of the year and the beginning of “the Barricades” crisis, the chasm between de Gaulle and the G.P.R.A. yawned unhopefully as wide as ever. On 13 December, behind the closed doors of the Legislative Palace in Tripoli and surrounded by the usual strict secrecy, the F.L.N. began its Third National Council of the Algerian Revolution (C.N.R.A.). It was immediately apparent that the revolutionary camp was confronted with its most serious crisis since the “liquidation” of Ramdane Abane, whose shadow still cast its pall over the conference table. There was, once again, the rift between the combatant leaders of the “interior” and the “ministers” of the “exterior”, a rift now made more bitter than ever by the savage pressures of the Challe offensive. This time the attack was directed against the veteran maquisard, long held to be the strong man of the F.L.N., Belkacem Krim, in his capacity as Minister of War, and against the President of the G.P.R.A., Ferhat Abbas, and his fellow “moderates”. In a defensive statement Krim admitted that the previous month’s fighting had been “the hardest of the war”, and that the A.L.N. of the “interior” had suffered heavy losses. He then came under fierce attack for failing to supply it with arms and reinforcements, and was criticised for being, though an excellent commander in the field, no chief-of-staff. The fact that his attackers included those who previously had been his loyal supporters made Krim seem increasingly isolated. At the centre of the attack appeared Boussouf, described by Claude Paillat as become “the Fouché of the rebellion, but a revolutionary Fouché like Saint-Just, and provided with troops like Napoleon”. Behind Boussouf, and strongly backed by his powerful patron, stood the silent and reflective figure of Boumedienne; a new force to be reckoned with, he emerged as the focal point of what were henceforth to be recognised as the hard-liners, the
guerre à outrance
faction of the F.L.N. Boumedienne now suggested that Krim and his “Ministry of War” be replaced by an army chief-of-staff and an inter-ministerial war committee. There was little doubt whom Boumedienne had in mind for the supreme military post, and — according to Krim in the aftermath of war — he, Krim, muttered angrily under his breath, “You are just awaiting your moment!” Amid mounting passions and antagonisms, Krim found himself over a whole month fighting a fierce rearguard action for his own survival.

At the same time the hard-liners were pressing vigorously for a new policy of sharpened revolutionary zeal within Algeria, involving imposition of a tighter control over the population. Supported by the moderate Saad Dahlab, Ferhat Abbas resisted this on the grounds that it would only make the F.L.N. look more extremist to the outside world, and thus render the prospects of negotiations with de Gaulle even more precarious. But it was plain that Abbas was in a minority position, and his own future increasingly uncomfortable. After thirty-three days of heated discussion, the Third C.N.R.A. closed. On 19 January (the day after the
bombe Massu
exploded) it was announced that a new constitution for the G.P.R.A. had been evolved — as well as a new ministerial structure. Krim finally, and no doubt fortified by recollections of the fate of Abane in his isolation, had given in. Abbas would remain president — though more than ever in a “window-dressing” capacity; Krim, still vice-president, would become Minister of Foreign Affairs and one of a “troika” (the others being Boussouf and Ben Tobbal) on the new “inter-ministerial war committee” proposed by Boumedienne. And, in the new post of chief-of-staff of the army, responsible for the whole military conduct of the war in the “interior” and “exterior” — Boumedienne. It would soon be plain that this was where the real focus of power in the F.L.N. now lay; at the same time, the Third C.N.R.A. marked the beginning of the eclipse both of Abbas and the “moderates”, and of Krim himself. Between Boumedienne and Krim — resentful and jealous of leaving the army in the hands of the former — the antagonism would continue.

Among the articles of the new constitution established by the Third C.N.R.A. was one which pointedly described the F.L.N. as a unique party, pursuing independence by revolution; a reassertion of primacy that was to have far-reaching consequences when the first serious negotiations took place between the French and the Algerians. Then, hardly had the F.L.N. delegates packed their bags in Tripoli than “Barricades Week” broke out in Algiers. At its end, with the will of the European “ultras” broken for the first time and de Gaulle triumphant, it would have seemed that, for the F.L.N. moderates, the omens for meaningful peace talks were never better. But with the hard-liners now well in the ascendant the interpretation the F.L.N. placed on the events of January 1960 was one of the overall weakness of the French position, presaging a total surrender to the maximum F.L.N. terms. With justification the hard-liners could point out that the first four years of fighting had overthrown the Fourth Republic and brought in de Gaulle and electoral franchise for Algerian Muslims; the next year had achieved “self-determination” and, now, the sixth year of the war had begun with Frenchmen firing on Frenchmen — altogether a not unsatisfactory balance. All that was required was to fight on for a few more months, a year or two at most, and de Gaulle would be forced to negotiate — on F.L.N. terms. Thus in their first public statements following the levelling of the Algiers barricades both Abbas and de Gaulle spoke with the same voice: that of harsh intransigence. Abbas would speak in aggressive tones of persisting with “a long and murderous war”; de Gaulle to the army in March would call independence for Algeria “a monstrosity”; Abbas would riposte by terming this “a declaration of war on the Algerian people”. The language was motivated by identical stimuli: necessity to placate the hard-liners, who now, in each camp, were the army leaders. Tragically, as so often is the case in modern times, it would be the hardliners, the apostles of “no compromise”, who would triumph in the long run.

Si Salah: “Operation Tilsit”

In the midst of these unpromising auguries for peace talks, there suddenly occurred one of the more extraordinary episodes of the Algerian war. Had a stray visitor been able to penetrate the unusually rigid security guard at the Elysée on the night of 10 June 1960, he would have been amazed to see the President of the French Republic seated at his desk in conversation with three F.L.N. leaders.

The Algerians comprised the entire command of Wilaya 4, the key sector adjacent to Algiers, and they were headed by the Wilaya chief, Si Salah. The changeable fortunes of Wilaya 4 have already been recounted, from the time when, during the Battle of Algiers, it had presented a model command to the period when its infection by
la bleuite
(caught from Amirouche’s Wilaya 3) had almost brought it to its knees in a welter of debilitating purges. The one bright spot for the Wilaya 4 command then had been the adroit fooling of French intelligence by that redoubtable fighting commander, Major Azedine, who, when captured, had persuaded them of his intention to negotiate a surrender on behalf of the Wilaya leaders, and had then decamped, leaving his inquisitors humiliated — and extremely suspicious.

This had been at the end of 1958. Then, on 17 March 1960, the cadi of Médéa, a small town nestling in the Atlas some fifty miles south-west of Algiers, received three clandestine visitors. They were Si Lakhdar, a former mason with a reputation for aggressive courage who had succeeded Si Salah as intelligence chief of Wilaya 4, Halim, the political boss of the Wilaya, and Abdellatif, commander of the Médéa zone. The message they brought the astonished cadi was that Colonel Si Salah and themselves were desirous of negotiating de Gaulle’s formula of a
paix des braves
— so brusquely rejected by the G.P.R.A. — for Wilaya 4 and any others that might follow suit. But they would not negotiate with local military or civil representatives, of whom they were distrustful; it had to be a high authority in Paris. On receiving news of the
démarche
from the cadi of Médéa, French intelligence in Algiers immediately attached the utmost importance to it. Si Salah was respected as a highly serious and influential leader; a thirty-one-year-old Kabyle whose real name was Mohamed Zamoun, his father a teacher with Communist sympathies, he had been in the revolt from the very first day, was a close friend of Krim and Ouamrane, and had been a member of the C.N.R.A. since September 1958. His military deputy, Major Si Mohamed (alias Bounaama Djillali[
2
]), was also held to be perhaps the most dynamic of all the current A.L.N. leaders of the “interior”.

There were encouraging precedents for believing that Si Salah might be on the level; under the first pressures of the Challe offensive, had not one area commander, Youssef Smail, come over and then broadcast an appeal to his comrades to accept de Gaulle’s
paix des braves?
Moreover, secret radio intercepts by the French Bureau d’études et de Liaisons (or B.E.L. — the innocent-sounding Gaullist inheritor of the intelligence functions of the somewhat discredited S.D.E.C.E.) fully confirmed how grave was the state of disaffection inside Wilaya 4. Already in the summer of 1959 Si Salah was warning A.L.N. headquarters of the serious slump in morale following the heavy casualties inflicted by the Challe offensive, and at the beginning of December he was demanding arms and ammunition from the G.P.R.A. in unusually pressing and aggressive terms. In January a message from Si Salah to Boumedienne accused the “exterior” of neglectful arrogance, and cautioned it that “the maquis is tired and disheartened. De Gaulle proposed the
paix des braves
, and complete equality for all. That’s what we ourselves want…. If you don’t provide us with the means for waging war we shall accept that proposition. You can’t expect otherwise….” Agitated signals flashed back from A.L.N. headquarters requesting verification and clearly suspecting the hand of French intelligence. A few weeks later Si Salah despatched a more deadly communication to Tunis.