A Savage War of Peace: Algeria 1954-1962 (87 page)

In Algiers Delouvrier’s secretary-general and closest collaborator, André Jacomet, resigned in a manner Delouvrier construed as pulling the rug out from underneath him. “I consider it regrettable”, said Jacomet, “that, before any cease-fire, the G.P.R.A. should receive satisfaction on its principal war aim — the Republic of Algeria”. With other resignations in the wind, it looked to Delouvrier as if the whole structure of the Délégation-Général was tottering. At the Armistice Day ceremony of 11 November he found himself surrounded by a ragingly angry crowd at the
monument aux morts
. His car was spat upon, and a young woman thrusting her face forward shouted: “Delouvrier — Assassin!” It was too much. Never before had he been called this. Delouvrier was now at the end of his resources, exhausted after twenty-four thankless months in a hopeless task. To his cabinet he admitted: “This time I no longer feel I am master of the situation.” As a final blow, de Gaulle — quite unsympathetic — had chided him when warned that it would not be safe to make the visit to Algeria he intended the following month. Delouvrier decided to resign. Speaking to de Gaulle he explained that he no longer possessed any moral authority: “All my words of hope, my contacts, the Constantine Plan, have been swept away by ‘Algerian Algeria’ and above all by ‘the Algerian Republic’.”

Another new team: Joxe, Morin, Gambiez

On 23 November Delouvrier’s resignation was made public. His “loyalty had never for one moment faltered” was de Gaulle’s handsome epitaph to the lieutenant whom he had never once made privy to his full intentions. The post was to be divided in two, with a new Minister of State for Algeria, Louis Joxe, answerable directly to de Gaulle and residing in Paris but in contant contact with Algiers; under him Jean Morin, the Government-Delegate (a subtle reduction in nomenclature from Delouvrier’s title Delegate-General) in Algiers but with diminished responsibilities. Joxe, a sagacious, donnish figure with prematurely white hair, had been a career diplomat, Ambassador to Moscow from 1952 to 1956, then made de Gaulle’s Minister of Education. The choice of such a skilled diplomatist for the new post seemed to indicate just how much de Gaulle’s thoughts were now turning on the prospects of future negotiations.

Jean Morin, super-prefect of the Haute-Garonne, was another
fonction-naire
and as unknown to the public eye as Delouvrier had been. Short, bald and with the rather sharp looks of the Meridional (though none of the warmth), at the Liberation he had been charged with the awkward responsibility of purging the
corps préféctoral
. This he had executed honestly, but with some ruthlessness; he was then France’s youngest prefect, aged only twenty-six. De Gaulle despatched his new Government-Delegate with the ringing words: “Morin, if the task is arduous, the mission is noble!” Otherwise Morin left with no more precise instructions than his predecessor had had as to de Gaulle’s future policy. His first task, however, was to prepare the ground for de Gaulle’s visit on 9 December. Among his last communications with the General, Delouvrier had strongly advised him against coming with the mood as it was currently among the
pieds noirs
. But de Gaulle was adamant; he wanted to launch the campaign for his second referendum, announced on 16 November and to be held in early January, to gain both French and Algerian endorsement for “self-determination”. Morin’s second duty was to prepare, in the utmost secrecy, a new headquarters outside the dangerous cauldron of Algiers, at Rocher-Noir, a few miles along the coast. The purpose was to avoid a possible repeat of the embarrassing predicament of January, where the representative of France might find himself confronted with the choice of either beating an undignified retreat, or being made a prisoner of an “ultra” mob. The principle was a wise one; only its execution would be too late.

De Gaulle’s next change in Algeria, scheduled for early in the new year, was to replace the Commander-in-Chief, General Crépin, by General Gambiez, commander of the Oran sector. Apart from the unqestionable Gaullist fidelity shared by both, there could hardly have been a greater contrast between two men. Gambiez, at fifty-seven, was diminutive with a gentle and slightly lisping voice; bald, bespectacled and studious-looking, his face bore a constantly amiable expression that reminded one more of a country curate than a fighting general. In fact, this rather timorous and unmilitary-looking exterior belied a warrior of utmost distinction who had been one of the first to set foot on French soil in 1944, Gambiez had also lost both a son and a nephew in the hell of Indo-China. But his appearance did symbolise a major change in the conduct of the war; with the departure of Crépin, military “pacification” was to reach its end. Says de Gaulle, “The war was all but over. Military success was achieved. Operations had been reduced to next to nothing. Instead, politics dominated the scene, and in this respect the two communities were further apart than they had ever been….”

Mobilising for de Gaulle’s visit

Regarding de Gaulle’s new referendum as a major threat to their interests for different reasons, both the opposing extremes now mobilised to counter his Algerian visit of 9 December. For the F.L.N. it was of top priority that every obstacle should be put in the way of de Gaulle holding this new referendum on
his
terms. For, as always, it could not countenance any “free choice” for the Algerians which might threaten the F.L.N.’s mastery of the situation. Synchronous with de Gaulle’s visit was the opening, in New York, of the crucial “Algerian debate” in the Political Committee of the United Nations. This key Fifteenth Session of the United Nations was attended by the most weighty F.L.N. delegation yet assembled. Its principal object was to fight tooth-and-nail for acceptance of the extant Afro-Asian resolution, which envisaged the holding of an Algerian referendum under control of the United Nations, which de Gaulle, backed by his Western allies, adamantly opposed, insisting as always that Algeria was an “internal” French problem. Counting heads, those veterans of United Nations infighting, Yazid and Chanderli, reckoned that the F.L.N. prospects were considerably at risk. Therefore, it was essential that the maximum display of “Algerian solidarity” be arranged to coincide both with de Gaulle’s visit to Algeria and the United Nations debate. With the pressure of the Challe offensive removed, the F.L.N. was able to launch a new terrorist campaign; whereas in November 710 incidents were recorded (the lowest number since 1955), in December they rose to 1,258. This resurgence of terrorism was enough to be heard in New York, and enough to enrage the
pieds noirs
, but not enough to provoke a reluctant de Gaulle into massive counter-measures. Pre-eminent was the new F.L.N. network in Algiers, patiently and surreptitiously rebuilt by Larbi Alilat, out of sight of French Intelligence and unhindered by it. With a nucleus now some 400 strong it received orders to prepare to get the largest number of Muslim demonstrators out on the Algiers streets during the presidential visit.

At the other end of the spectrum, the reception planned for de Gaulle had a far more dangerous — and desperate — look about it. Not for nothing had Delouvrier tried to head de Gaulle off. Nearer the time he had also been warned that an assassination attempt was probable; in fact, no less than four separate plots were in the offing — though each one was more inept than the last. Delouvrier’s newly-arrived successor, Morin, was aware that the F.A.F. were mobilising to the limit for the visit. But they were still, in essence, leaderless. What was far more disquieting were fresh rumbles of disaffection from the army. From now on and for the next six months, it was the army — not the
pieds noirs
— which was to call the tune. At the epicentre was the elitist 1st R.E.P., which had played such a prominent but equivocal role in the “Barricades Week” of nearly a year ago. Its fiercely outspoken colonel, Dufour, had — curiously enough — been one of the few to remain unpurged. During the Quatorze Juillet march past he had shocked Delouvrier’s political adviser, Francois Coulet, a distinguished para colonel himself, by leading his much-decorated regiment without wearing a single medal. This was a clearly stated gesture of public disrespect towards the head of state, and after another outburst of the same order in November Dufour was finally posted home. But to an astonished Morin it was reported that the illustrious colonel had “gone absent”, removing with him the regimental colours! Thus his successor could not take over ceremonially in front of the regiment; in theory, Dufour remained regimental colonel.

The 1st R.E.P.

The full extent of what was afoot in the Foreign Legion’s First Parachute Regiment was far graver than was apparent, and it was symptomatic of the mood now prevailing in a majority of the best fighting units in Algeria. After “Barricades Week” the 1st R.E.P. had returned to active service in the
bled
— though with markedly little enthusiasm. Spearheading the continued Challe offensive against the A.L.N. in Wilaya 2, the regiment during the spring had trapped a significant enemy force just on the Tunisian side of the Morice Line. All set to pursue and destroy it with his company, Captain Pierre Sergent found his orders countermanded by the sector commander. Consequently when detailed a short time later to comb out a difficult wooded area, Sergent refused. It was, he said, the first time he had ever disobeyed a superior order. At the beginning of July Colonel Dufour had made contact in Paris with a General Marie-André Zeller, the sixty-two-year-old former chief-of-staff to the armed forces, currently in retirement in Paris, and well-known to be an out-and-out supporter of
Algérie francaise
. To Zeller Dufour made a proposition of almost
Beau Sabreur
naïveté; as his regiment marched past the tribune in full battle order at the forthcoming Quatorze Juillet celebrations, it would swoop and capture Delouvrier, Crépin and the whole Algiers administration, while Zeller was to organise an identical scenario in Paris, to grab de Gaulle and his ministers. But on the 13th word came back from Zeller: “Do nothing. It’s not ready here.”

Dufour had to satisfy himself with his decoration-less protest. Next he took up contact with General Jouhaud in Algiers, but from now on he was kept under close surveillance. Then, in November, shortly after de Gaulle’s “Algerian Republic” speech, there was an emotional scene at the 1st R.E.P.’s depot in Zéralda during the burial of ten men from Sergent’s No. 1 Company, killed in an F.L.N. ambush. With the full backing of Dufour the divisional padre, Père Delarue, declared in his benediction words then widely felt in the army: “You died at a time when, if we believe in the speeches we hear, we no longer know why we die….”

This was the last straw which led to Dufour’s posting. He disappeared and entered into active plotting with General Jouhaud. In his absence Pierre Sergent, the veteran Legionnaire with the small and wiry figure of a jockey, became temporarily the communications centre of the dissident military. Sergent states that, while on leave in Paris, he received instructions from Maître Tixier-Vignancour, the lawyer who for many years had been a rallying-point of the extreme Right in France. Flying back to Algiers that night, he was instructed to relay urgently to Jouhaud the message: “Salan gives the green light.” To this day Sergent does not know whether this message actually originated from Salan, or through what channels. In fact, it seems improbable that it did, in that the “Mandarin” and his court in Madrid were still largely isolated from events in both Algiers and Paris. On receiving this message, which was, in effect, to mark the beginning of the army revolt, the choleric Jouhaud grumbled, “Why doesn’t Salan come himself?” Nevertheless, carried along by Sergent’s enthusiasm, he then set to organising a coup at forty-eight hours’ notice. What regiments could be counted on? There was the 1st R.E.P., based at Zéralda just twenty miles out of Algiers, and whose allegiance to the coup was unquestionable. Then there was the 18th R.C.P. which had been fighting in Algeria intermittently since the earliest days of the war, commanded by a tough
pied noir
from Bougie, Colonel Georges Masselot; along with it could be reckoned its sister regiment of Chasseurs Parachutistes, the 14th, commanded by Masselot’s friend, Colonel Lecomte. All had been finally pushed over the brink by de Gaulle’s speech of 4 November.

Co-ordinated by Jouhaud and Sergent, the strategy was as follows: on 9 December, the day of de Gaulle’s arrival, the F.A.F. was to impose a total strike over Algiers. F.A.F. leaflets ordered: “All life must stop. Civilian vehicles are forbidden to move. Shops are not to open on pain of being ransacked.” The population as a whole was called upon to “show its indignation and disgust at the visit which General de Gaulle has the temerity to make to Algeria”. Instead of one mass demonstration, as in “Barricades Week”, which the reinforced gendarmes and C.R.S. would be able to isolate and crush, there would be scattered but violent attacks. As soon as action was engaged, the F.A.F. “shock troops” — armed with weapons hidden since the January fiasco — would then break off to strike elsewhere. Thus it was intended that the forces of order, worn down, would be compelled to call in the army. Jouhaud’s three para regiments, the closest at hand, would appear on the scene. They would seize the vital centres of Algiers, and lay hands on de Gaulle — one way or another. It looked like a heaven-sent opportunity one unlikely ever to recur. But the army conspirators seem to have had only the woolliest idea of what they would do next — beyond a vague notion that somehow the revolt would spread through Algeria, and across the Mediterranean to metropolitan France, in a manner similar to the events of May 1958. There also seems to have been little thought that de Gaulle, in his five-day trip, might actually by-pass Algiers. What then?