A Savage War of Peace: Algeria 1954-1962 (79 page)

Is it true [he asked] that de Gaulle has addressed a peace plan to the G.P.R.A.? Why do they not take the advice of the “interior”? The struggle cannot continue: the people are tired, the combatants discouraged. If the G.P.R.A. does nothing, Wilaya 4 will make contact with the French to negotiate an end to the fighting. We shall hide a portion of the arms that remain….

On 7 March a terse signal from Si Salah was intercepted by the B.E.L.: “Failing a response to our plan, we shall move to execute it on 15 March.” A frantic, but stalling, reply came by return from the G.P.R.A.: “Think of the revolution. Wait. Instructions follows.” On 17 March Si Salah’s emissaries made their entry at Médéa.

In a very short space of time the information had passed from Colonel Jacquin, director of the B.E.L. in Algiers, upwards to de Gaulle. To all those privy to it, it looked like a first break in the monolithic façade of the F.L.N. Challe, about to relinquish his command, was especially enthusiastic. Here, it seemed, lay within reach the goal to which his whole strategy had been directed; a chance to administer the
coup-de-grâce
to the A.L.N. of the “interior”, and perhaps a last chance to retain some form of
Algérie française
. De Gaulle’s first reaction, rebuffed as he had been repeatedly in his overtures to the G.P.R.A., was also favourable, and from that moment was born “Operation Tilsit” — named (not without prescience) after that 1807 truce of unreality between Emperors Napoleon and Alexander aboard their raft in the middle of Niemen. For a whole year “Tilsit” was to remain a deadly secret to all but the handful entrusted with its execution.

To treat with the Wilaya 4 leaders, de Gaulle sent his own aide, Bernard Tricot, supported by Colonel Mathon from Premier Debré’s staff, and in the later meetings they were also accompanied by Jacquin of the B.E.L. The first, historic encounter took place on 28 March, a grey and cold night, in the Médéa prefecture, which, for once, stood unguarded. At the appointed hour, Bernard Tricot inside nervously lifted a corner of the curtain, peering out into the garden to see if anything was going to happen. After a few minutes three figures approached, walking unconcernedly down the street, and entered the building: “three young men with brown faces, correctly dressed in civilian clothes”. They introduced themselves: Lakhdar, Halim and Abdellatif. The contrast between the Algerians out of the maquis and the urban, courteous Parisian intellectual, Tricot, must have seemed extreme, and there was a moment of awkward stiffness. The most at ease, noted Tricot, was Lakhdar, and the ice visibly thawed when Tricot explained that he was there as personal representative of President de Gaulle. The Algerians stated that they wanted a cease-fire, and beyond that an end to “European domination”. Soon they were spilling out their animosity against the G.P.R.A.; the people had suffered too much and “We ourselves now have hardly any regular contact with the exterior.” Tricot received the impression

of men who had wanted independence but who, perhaps, would be satisfied with an autonomy where their country would enjoy both liberty and the aid of France. But they had reflected little on the shape of the future. “Maquisards don’t see any further than the end of their submachine-guns,” said Lakhdar. What was certain was that the men we had in front of us thought that their struggle no longer had a
raison d’être
.

Three days later a second meeting took place, after which Tricot verified to de Gaulle that the Wilaya spokesmen were genuine.

A long series of talks now began at highly discreet rendezvous, sometimes in deserted corners of the
bled
, sometimes with the Algerians appearing in the guise Yacef had once favoured — with feminine garments enveloping their combat denims. Their first concern was that honour should remain intact; that acceptance of a
paix des braves
should in no way be allowed to look like capitulation. Accordingly, Bernard Tricot worked out a formula whereby the maquisards would “deposit for safe-keeping” their weapons in local gendarmeries (specifically
not
turning them over into army hands); they would then file away to their villages; only those guilty of “murder” would be placed under surveillance until the definitive end of hostilities; on reaching this point, France was to be trusted to institute a massive amnesty. The next hesitation of the F.L.N. leaders stemmed from an anxiety not to “desolidarise” themselves from their fellow combatants. They wanted to see Ben Bella to canvass his support; they wanted to go to Tunis to press their case there. Both propositions were refused by de Gaulle, and were indeed quite unrealistic; Ben Bella would have been unpersuadable; once in Tunis the F.L.N. would never have permitted them to return. They wanted more time to bring with them the maximum number of their adherents and, further, to spread the doctrine of what they called
degaullisme
to neighbouring disaffected Wilayas, notably Kabylia. They proposed an extended interregnum of eight weeks, during which time the French would cease all operations in the Wilaya.

There was consternation in the French camp at this delay, and — with memories of how they had been duped by Azedine — suspicions were aroused that Si Salah might yet be playing a double game. But Colonel Jacquin, now himself taking part in some of the clandestine meetings, was able to provide fresh assurance through intercepts of radio messages from Si Salah which disclosed a final break with the G.P.R.A.[
3
] Moreover, the inducement that Si Salah might spread the spores of
degaullisme
even beyond the confines of Wilaya 4 was highly alluring. The interregnum was agreed — though not (according to Jacquin) the cessation of anti-guerrilla activities, on the ground that this would imperil the secrecy on which all were agreed.

As May arrived the F.L.N. leaders (Si Salah had not yet presented himself) still seemed haunted by fears of being accused of treachery by those of their colleagues who still harboured misgivings; among them being, apparently, that tough soldier Si Mohamed, military deputy to Si Salah. Then, on either his fourth or fifth flight between Paris and Algiers, with the inspiration that altitude sometimes brings, “an unprecedented idea” occurred to Bernard Tricot; why not confound the doubters by whisking Si Salah to Paris for a meeting with the president himself? Surprisingly, de Gaulle immediately said “Yes”. Returning to Algeria, Tricot asked the F.L.N. leaders whether Si Salah would be prepared to talk to a “high political personage” in Paris, without mentioning the name of de Gaulle. On 9 June Tricot and Colonel Jacquin flew to Paris, taking with them Si Salah and Si Mohamed — both presenting themselves for the first time — and Lakhdar. Just in case the Algerians should be contemplating a Ben Bella operation in reverse, two plainclothes gendarmes were also abroad the aircraft. They were not needed; Si Salah — who turned out to be a good-looking man nearly six feet tall with intelligent features and a well-groomed moustache — suffered from air-sickness. Si Mohamed, a rugged individual with the roughness of the simple peasant, and Lakhdar — neither of whom had flown before — were preoccupied with the marvels of the flight, while Lakhdar ravenously consumed an entire camembert.

The following morning Tricot informed the astonished Algerians that, at ten o’clock that evening, the “personage” they were to see was no less than the President himself. To give them extra assurance that they came as trusted dignitaries, Tricot made a point that they should not be searched for weapons before entering the Elysée; he and Mathon would be the only others present at the interview in the room, and they would be unarmed. De Gaulle’s military aide, Colonel de Bonneval, was appalled at the security hazard, and — as a single precaution — a lone marksman was installed hidden behind a tapestry. The risks remained considerable, but de Gaulle — as always entirely fearless for his own physical safety — accepted them unhesitatingly. The Wilaya 4 leaders were obviously impressed by the simple dignity of de Gaulle’s reception. To Colonel Jacquin afterwards, Si Salah confided, “I had prepared a little speech, but was so moved that I let my heart speak.” De Gaulle opened by recalling his “self-determination” proposals; Si Salah repeated his aims that had been thrashed out with Tricot over the past months. Nothing new on either side. Then de Gaulle revealed to the Algerians that he was about to make, in four days precisely, a new appeal to the G.P.R.A. to discuss a cease-fire. In the event of their reply being unfavourable, he would proceed with Si Salah’s plan. Si Salah declared that he would go ahead and establish contact with the neighbouring Wilayas, but added that if the G.P.R.A. responded to de Gaulle’s overture, “then you will hear nothing more from us”. The interview over, de Gaulle rose to his feet and with proper formality declared: “Because we are fighting each other, I will not shake your hand, but I salute you.”

Thus ended the first, and only, direct conversation that de Gaulle was ever to have with any leaders of the Algerian revolt by which he had been brought to power.

Already on the flight back to Algeria Si Salah was expressing misgivings about de Gaulle’s projected appeal to the G.P.R.A.; if the latter were to accept, it would be nothing but a feint, he assured his French companions. On 14 June de Gaulle made his television broadcast, beginning somewhat patronisingly about the backwardness of his “old country”, which he said, must be made to “marry her time”. He spoke of a glowing future when “the Sahara natural gas, the reserves of which are inexhaustible, would be capable of transforming the existence of Algeria and influencing that of Europe”. Finally, he addressed himself, “in the name of France, to the leaders of the insurrection. I declare to them that we await them here in order to find with them an honourable end to the fighting that drags on”.

The army in Algiers was outraged by the directness of de Gaulle’s appeal to the G.P.R.A.; to them it seemed to be wholly at odds with all that he had promised he would not do during his March
tournée des popotes
. Even more outraged were those leaders, like Colonel Jacquin, privy to “Operation Tilsit”, who had understood from Si Salah that he would only go to Paris to deal with de Gaulle on the implicit understanding that the latter would not resume dealings with the G.P.R.A. On 18 June, though feeling that de Gaulle’s speech had pulled the carpet out from under Si Salah, Colonel Jacquin met him again and agreed to escort him to Kabylia en route for his voyage of persuasion to Wilaya 3 and its leader, Mohand Ou El-Hadj. On the 20th the G.P.R.A. in Tunis announced that, under certain conditions, it accepted de Gaulle’s invitation and would send a delegation to France. On the 21st Jacquin deposited Si Salah and his colleagues at the appointed meeting place in Kabylia.

It was the last time that any of them were seen alive by Jacquin or any other French official.

The final act of “Operation Tilsit” remains clad in a grim mystery. According to General Jacquin, as he is today, a “killer” despatched from Tunis from the G.P.R.A. forced Si Mohamed — always the most reluctant of the Wilaya 4 leaders — to return to the fold, and imposed upon him the execution of his guilty peers. Lakhdar, Halim and Abdellatif were summarily put to death, while Si Salah — on account of his seniority and distinction as a maquisard — was ordered to make his way to Tunis and stand trial there. Many months elapsed, unaccountably, with Si Salah apparently still under arrest in Algeria. Jacquin’s B.E.L. attempted a cloak-and-dagger operation to liberate him, but without success. Then, in July the following year, Si Salah, evidently on his way to Tunisia at last, was killed in an ambush by a French patrol; little more than two weeks later, but in another corner of Algeria, Si Mohamed was also tracked down and killed in an
opération ponctuelle
mounted by the 11th Shock. The coincidence, and curious circumstances, of the deaths of the two leaders have encouraged anti-Gaullists in the French army to speculate, even today, that there may have been more to it all than met the eye. Undeniable it was that, following their deaths, no one was left on the Algerian side able to give evidence about the whole sad story of “Operation Tilsit”.

De Gaulle in his memoirs remains taciturn. Yet, from what has become known since, it seems that he was always in two minds about the whole operation. Why then, despite the lengths to which he was prepared to go to receive Si Salah in Paris, did he let him drop in favour of pursuing, in the words of Jacquin, “the bird in the bush, rather than the one in the hand”? As ever, the motives are complex. Perhaps one explanation can be found in de Gaulle’s remark to Pinay at the time of the secret F.L.N. initiative of 1959: “But who are they, who nominated them?” The sense of hierarchy, of order and degree was always strong in de Gaulle. Though for public consumption he could state that he would not negotiate with the G.P.R.A. as such, by the summer of 1960 he seems increasingly to have accepted it in his own mind as an “establishment” body. It was also his character to find distasteful anything that smacked of the turncoat, of double-agentry, of
la bleuite
. As Tricot remarked to the author, there was a curious, and revealing, fact that de Gaulle could never bring himself to congratulate the
harkis
, the Algerians fighting for France against their own kindred, at terrible risk to themselves. This was not, in his lights, a strictly honourable function. Suspicious by nature (“One must be suspicious when one is surrounded by troubles,” he said to Harold Macmillan as far back as 1942), he instinctively mistrusted the claims of French secret intelligence; and here the story of Azedine could only lend further substance to de Gaulle’s mistrust.