FRENCH ADMINISTRATION OF ALGERIA
1. _Civilian_
The administration of any country to a foreigner is always rather
incomprehensible, but the manner in which Algeria is administered
by the French is more than a surprise.
It is not our duty to criticize the method of government of this
country, and let it be said at once that, strange as the method
may seem, the results are admirable.
To the uninitiated, Algeria is a colony such as Kenya or the
Gold Coast, with a Governor and all the general system of working
dominions beyond the seas. But, though the country is administered
by a Governor-General, he does not, as might be supposed, depend on
the Colonial Office, neither do any of his reports pass through the
hands of the Colonial Secretary. His tenure of office is, moreover
most uncertain, and he is only appointed for a period of six months
at a time, renewable at the end of each period, and this appointment
is made by the Home Office (_Ministère de l’Intérieur_) in Paris,
under whose jurisdiction he is.
At first this contradiction of things seems hard to understand, and
one is forced to penetrate further into the inner workings of Algeria
to understand. In the first place, North Africa—with the exception
of Tunisia and Morocco, which are protectorates—is divided into
three departments, with practically the same organization as in
France. That is to say, each department sends to the Parliament in
Paris one senator and two deputies, who are elected by the French
inhabitants of the country and by those Arabs who have opted for
French nationality.
These departments have their _préfets_ and _sous-préfets_, as in
France, and the towns their mayors, with the municipal council,
_juges de paix_, _commissaires de police_, etc. Thus up to this
point the system of administration in the three departments is
identical with that in the mother country.
The first slight difference we come upon is in the case of what are
known as _communes mixtes_. These centers are those where the Arab
population is in excess of the French. In this case the mayor is
replaced by an _administrateur_. The area covered by the jurisdiction
of this individual is much larger than the _commune_ under the
mayor, and comprises numerous _douars_, or native villages. The
_administrateur_, who wears a vague uniform, something between
that of an officer and a lion-tamer, is trained specially for his
post. He is assisted in his duties by an _administrateur adjoint_
and by a _commission municipale_. This _commission municipale_ is
composed partly of Frenchmen elected in the area of the _commune
mixte_, and partly of Arabs belonging to the various _douars_, who
are appointed by the Governor-General. The _caïds_ and other Arab
chiefs—of whom we will speak later—assist the _administrateur_
as his agents in their respective areas.
The _administrateur_ himself has certain powers of jurisdiction
over Arabs, but all those who are French citizens have recourse to
the ordinary civil power.
This, therefore, in a few words is the system of administration
of Algeria proper, and it would all seem quite simple if we did
not suddenly come face to face with the Governor-General. Here,
in the midst of all this peaceful organization associated with the
Great Revolution, we have Monsieur Le Gouverneur-Général, with
his summer palace, his staff, his aides-de-camp, naval and military,
flying the tricolor on his motor-car, while the guard turns out and
presents arms. What has he to do with all the senators and deputies
and _préfets_?
The answer is simple. For all practical purposes, nothing. He
himself may be a French senator with his seat in the upper chamber;
at the end of six months he may become a minister or he may be
politely dismissed. And how often has the post of Governor-General
of Algeria been held by some high functionary not wanted in France,
or by one who is merely biding his time to take office again. The
Governor-General, therefore, unless he be a man of exceptional
value, can not really do very much for or against the welfare
of the country, and the most important duties therefore devolve
on a permanent official known as the _Secrétaire Général du
Gouvernement_.
This gentleman—though he is usually not a man of great ambition,
otherwise he would not be in this thankless post—has a great
working knowledge of the country and its people, and it is he who
keeps his superior in touch with all that is going on. But even
he has nothing to do with the French civil administration, which
belongs entirely to France.
On the other hand, there are three assemblies over which the
Governor presides and which carry out on their own account a
certain amount of the administration of the country. They are the
_Conseil du Gouvernement_, dealing chiefly with the building of new
villages, making of roads and railways, and generally opening up
the colony; the _Délégations Financières_, composed of French
colonists, French taxpayers, and a certain number of well-to-do
Arabs. These financial delegates discuss the budget for Algeria,
which incidentally, and contradictorily, is independent of France,
as is also the Bank of Algeria, which prints its own banknotes.
Finally we have the _Conseil Supérieur_ composed of twenty-two
members: the _Procureur-Général_, the Admiral, the _préfets_ and
a few Arabs of importance who meet once a year under the presidency
of the Governor-General to vote the budget for Algeria.
But even here the Parliament in Paris is afraid of letting the
wretched colony look after itself, and it insists upon ratifying
the budget, without knowing anything about it.
Algeria, therefore, is not a colony, but part of France, administered
in the same way as any French department, but under the care of the
Governor-General appointed by the Home Office, who is all-powerful
without having any real authority at all. The _communes_ are French
or _mixtes_; the Arabs have a certain say in the government, but
not much; the budget is separate, but under the scrutiny of the
Palais Bourbon.
2. _Military_
All this seems complicated enough, but the mystery is not over—it
deepens as we leave the northern districts of Algeria and move
south. We have now seen the rôles of the various functionaries in
the three departments of Constantine, Alger and Oranie, and we must
turn to the area known as the Territoires du Sud.
The actual boundary between the departments and these southern
territories varies somewhat, but it can be said roughly that
anywhere two hundred miles from the coast one has passed out of
civil control and into military. Thence these territories stretch
away across the Sahara until the Niger is reached—great, open
spaces with small fertile points where there is water. All this
waste land is also under the Governor-General and his permanent
staff in Algiers. There is one slight difference. Whereas if he were
to make a speech to the townsfolk of some smiling vine center near
Algiers he must ask the _Secrétaire-Général_ for the necessary
data to address the multitudes, in the south he applies to the
_Directeur des Territoires du Sud_. This functionary, who is often
intelligent, has an enviable post, and if he is interested in the
Great South, with its strange people, he can make a study under very
advantageous circumstances. Here again, however, we have an anomaly,
for, though the _Directeur des Territoires du Sud_ is responsible
for their order, his administrators are all soldiers and the country
south of the civil territory is under the strictest form of martial
law. A little explanation on the system of government will perhaps
make matters clearer.
The southern areas are divided into what are known as _Cercles
Militaires_, and they may cover an area of one hundred square
miles. The _Cercle_ is under a colonel and is subdivided into
_annexes_, each under a captain, who is responsible to the colonel
for his area. There are a number of officers attached to these
annexes, all specially trained in their duties—in fact, from
the colonel down, all the staff have passed through the school of
the _affaires indigènes_ and have spent practically all their
life in the south. For the future we will refer to the military
administration as the Bureau Arabe, the name under which it goes
in the south. To all intents and purposes the Bureau Arabe is
all-powerful. Fines, fatigues, prison for all persons not having
a European status are entirely in its hands. The court-martial
convened has the power of life and death over the same category
of persons; only Europeans and naturalized Arabs can appeal to the
civil courts. The rule is harsh, sometimes unjust—it depends on
the staff of the Bureau Arabe. The military in the various oases are
commanded by regimental officers who have really nothing to do with
the Bureau Arabe; they are just in the garrison as they might be in
Algiers or Marseilles. But if the head of the _annexe_ requires them
for any administrative or punitive purpose they are at his disposal.
A flock of sheep disappears, the owner complains, and, if he is
considered sufficiently important to take notice of, a section
of _spahis_ is sent off to trace the flock. Some one has to be
ejected from his house—an N.C.O. and four tirailleurs carry out
the unpleasant duty.
Unless an Arab carries a great deal of weight he is helpless if
the Bureau Arabe decides against him. Apart from this, however, the
chief of the _annexe_ has other more peaceful and useful duties. He
has all the functions of the mayor to perform, and is surrounded
by a municipal council. These worthies— who are partly Arabs,
partly French and partly Jews—vote silly laws such as traffic
regulations for the non-existent vehicles. They decide whether the
main street shall be painted green or gold; they vote money to repair
the roof of the colonel’s house. Their most important function is
the distribution of water in the oasis. This, as will be explained
in a later chapter, is a question of life and death in the long
Sahara summer, and it requires infinite care to arrange it all. But,
apart from this, the municipal council does little, and, though
the _Chef d’Annexe_ occasionally performs a civil marriage, the
law and order of the Great South rests in the hands of the military.
I use the word _order_ purposely, as it is through their presence
that we can travel safely over those magnificent roads which they
also have made across the rolling plains. For, though justice
is sometimes miscarried, there is little chance of the bandit
escaping if he commits highway robbery or murder on the roads of
the Bureau Arabe.
These are, therefore, the pros and cons, and let it be said for
these colonels and captains who have spent all the best years
of their lives in the Sahara, that they are confronted by great
difficulties, and that until the day when the Arab is emancipated
and set on the same footing as his conquerors, the only method by
which an end can be achieved is severity.
So far it will seem that we have left the realm of complication
and entered that of straightforward government. A mere illusion.
Living in the same town and almost next door to the Bureau Arabe,
we find the Juge de Paix, the Notaire, and the Commissaire de
Police. What the first two can do to justify their existence is
beyond the imagination. The Commissaire has functions which he
exercises, but which seem quite unnecessary, as in all his actions
he is entirely paralyzed by the Bureau Arabe.
For instance, if some petty crime is committed he can investigate
it, but he can not condemn without the authority of the _Chef
d’Annexe_. If one requires a gun-license one has to apply to the
Commissaire de Police, but he must go to the Bureau Arabe to get
it. He is in charge of the few native policemen who wander about
the oases in search of crime and bribes, but, though the prison is
next door to his office, it is guarded by the military.
It is all the same curious system which causes the
Governor-General’s powers—extending across the Sahara, to the
verge of Central Africa—to depend on the Home Office in Paris.
Moreover, we have not yet finished with all these different forms
of administration, and in the next chapter I shall try to explain
how the native functionaries aid in the government of the country.