Francis Jeanson: Logic of Colonialism

The studies and documents that make up this collection cannot make any claim to being exhaustive.¹ Perhaps there was no need to throw oneself into a kind of asceticism. . . . That was indeed our opinion. The fact of the matter is that we still had to agree, at the end of the day, to this narrow limitation. If North Africa is relatively privileged here, the immense Black continent was assigned an already smaller place, while Madagascar must be content with a few allusions, and nothing is said about the Caribbean. As for Vietnam, in any case, this country could not be examined by our inquiry: the state of war and the intervention of French troops to impose the government of Bảo Đại cancel out a priori any interrogation on the type of implementation of our “western” democracy there.²
It is true that there is already an abundant documentation of the various territories referred to as the French Union.[/efn_note]From among the most recent works, we point to the special issue dedicated to Work in Black Africa, which has just been published under the direction of Pierre Naville, by Présence Africaine [n. 13 (1952)].[/efn_note] Our task, since we could not cover everything, was rather to avoid geographical dispersion in favor of an attempt—more partial but without a doubt more productive—to grasp and illuminate various aspects that seemed essential. As such, the selected contributions might already be quite sufficiently instructive; at least they open certain paths for reflection rarely taken by those who dabble in anticolonialism. There will surely be objections to the strict economic reductionism that Marxists impose upon the phenomenon of colonial oppression; it would be correct to add that opposition to this reduction easily falls into the inverse error, which puts the economy between parentheses. The problems of industrialization, with the proletarianization that they imply, constitute a decisive test for the colonies. These still quite limited phenomena, of the type that Guérif[/efn_note]Translators’ note: see footnote 2.[/efn_note] raised in the constitution of a Moroccan proletariat, already unequivocally show the total lack of preparation of the settler elite and the administrations that it controls; their radical ineptitude in their leading role in countries where the masses begin to influence public life and can no longer be treated as a merely passive instrument in the service of exploiters by divine right. Before they may even become conscious of their political importance, the masses, by their mere existence, already pose problems for which there is no possible solution within the context of the colonial system. The astounding power—which allows a handful of settlers to use the structures, specific to each territory, to their profit, to oppose themselves successfully to the decisions of the metropole³ and, in Tunisia, for example, to prohibit all real change, as trifling as its scope may be—this astounding power is already diminished when we recall that Tunisia is practically owned by half a dozen financial groups, in terms of its agriculture, mineral resources, industry, transport. But it appears absolutely comprehensible once one dismantles, as Claude Bourdet does here,⁴ the mechanism according to which the decisive influence of such groups is exercised simultaneously on local administration, Parliament, and the French ministers. And it is yet again the same predominance of the considerations of high finance that Claude Gérard⁵ denounces when, in regards to Black Africa, he evokes the existence and weight of institutions such as the “États Généraux de la Colonisation.”⁶
Except for the very beginning of each colonial enterprise, colonization has established social structures characterized both by a system of capitalist exploitation and by racist contempt everywhere. We can question the relationship between capitalism and racism, endeavor to explain one by the other or to grasp an original dialectic between them—in any case, it would be absurd to believe that we get closer to colonial realities when we gloss over one or the other; whatever their genesis may be, today they appear inextricably linked. There is no lack of evidence [concerning this point], starting with the complete failure of communist parties, which, in North Africa for example, seem barely consistent throughout their own propaganda. . . or the intentionally confusing maneuvers relentlessly employed by the settler elite, official circles, and the press that they control. From this perspective, the confrontation between the reproach of collusion with communism (which is regularly invoked to compromise native [bourgeois] parties) and the consistency with which North African communism itself admits to underestimating these national movements⁷ and to failing to efficiently penetrate the masses that they represent—is quite rich. But it is more concerning to note that this self-critique is not directed at the one aspect on which it could have a useful effect: by denouncing tactical errors, it obscures a fundamental error in the very analysis of the situation. The nationalism of these peoples is not a brute force, a type of natural energy, an energetic potential that can be used at will, if only certain tactless approaches could be avoided. It is a movement that has its own orientation, which no doubt constitutes the only real response to the reality they endure.
Once we accept that this movement is not reducible to class struggle and that it does not entirely lend itself to being accounted for within the schemas of current Marxist orthodoxy, we still must extract the essential aspects to consider them one by one. However, it would be useless to try to reduce its complexity to some synthesis between the aspects “capitalism” and “racism.” Moreover, national movements in the colonies define themselves, today, in relation to the international context. The pressures and the temptations to which these movements are exposed, towards America or towards Russia, are a part of the realities of the problem—but so is their repugnance toward any decisive option in favor of either of the two “blocs.” As already in the case of the peoples of Asia, the accession of the peoples of Africa to their majority—their entry into the world—is bound to be accomplished in ways that are as perplexing for official Stalinism as for the paternalism into which the far left of our governments is hesitantly venturing, quivering. By all appearances, popular democracy when it is in the Chinese style poses more difficult problems for Moscow than in its European forms; Africa, as well, may undoubtedly hold surprises for the prospective fools who would believe it is easy to process.
The fact remains that the present situation is characterized by the growing influence of anticommunist strategy on the classical colonial phenomena that result from the capitalism-racism complex. The intervention of this powerful factor, which has only become substantial over the last few years, should not be considered as simply adding to the effect of ordinary factors: on some points it seems to reinforce this effect, on others it would tend to endanger it, and, in any case, it profoundly modifies its characteristics, appearance, and purpose.
Capitalist exploitation and racist contempt, more and more overdetermined by the fine tuning of an anticommunist strategy on a global scale—such appear to be the dominant traits of the field of forces to which, explicitly or not, any partial analysis of the conflict between the colonial system and democratic principles refers. We will only attempt, in the few pages that follow, to assemble the most significant aspects of colonial situations and their rapid development today, in relation to these axes. Colonialism, which believed itself to be eternal and aimed to be static, is suddenly entering a period of molting—as if it had only had a prolonged adolescence until now, such that we must wait to see it finally enter adulthood.⁸

***

“Faced with Russian, American, and British imperialisms that no longer bother to conceal themselves, it is time for a French imperialism to arise. Its substance exists, rich and varied. It only lacks spirit.”⁹ The last words of this remarkable text should not be understood, obviously, in a pejorative sense. The editorial team of France Outremer did not mean to stigmatize any lack of inspiration or absence of humor in the conduct of our grand colonial strategy. It was simply, in the month of the Nativity, awaiting a joyful advent: that of a doctrine which would finally proclaim, to the world, the existence of a system that is already inscribed in reality. Giving it form would allow French imperialism, already so “substantial,” to manifest its true power. The time is past for these almost self-shaming policies, paralyzed by some absurd concern for discretion and seemingly afflicted by a modesty complex; it will be important from now on for imperialism to have the courage of its convictions.
In the face of this, our undertaking has a great chance of appearing pointless. However, it is doubtlessly just as logical, in the context of an inquiry into the function of democratic institutions, to find out what becomes of this function in colonized countries—and it is doubtlessly more honest to truly face the problem than to declare it immediately resolved, even based on the most obvious evidence.
It is appropriate then to render oneself systematically incredulous against one’s strongest convictions. Never mind that colonization and democracy have so far appeared to you incompatible, mutually exclusive. Act as if this were not the case and take up the very moderately audacious working hypothesis that the implementation of the principles of democracy must involve a significantly greater gap in the outre-mer than what we see in the Metropole,¹⁰ at different levels of public life. From there, plunge into the documents, absorb the official declarations without wavering, scrupulously assemble all the facts however noteworthy, question everyone no matter their opinion, force yourself day after day to read every opinion piece—and when you are finally at the end of your efforts and at the point of concluding, you will need to admit that the very meaning of your research collapsed along the way. The famous “gap” was only a myth, the distance between the two planes becoming altogether impossible to determine if it turns out that one of the planes doesn’t exist.
But perhaps this absurd research was not entirely pointless and perhaps it only lost its original meaning to take on another. At least it already seems that it constitutes, precisely, the most striking reductio ad absurdum. We meant to judge the various conditions of public life in the outre-mer countries, and we certainly expected to find them “lacking” in relation to democratic principles. But it turns out that just as we would want to point out such conditions, we are not able to find any condition that appears to be justifiably comparable to these principles, any condition which we could be convinced represents, even at any stage of deterioration, democracy at work.
Thus we shall need to invert our perspective. The colonial phenomenon does not necessitate the perversion of democracy—its rotting out—but its pure and simple negation, its total refusal, under whatever disguise it sometimes uses (and less and less necessarily so) to conceal itself. Colonization not only appears in its essence as antidemocratic, but we notice that after having been openly and deliberately so during its belle epoque, it went through a kind of infantile disorder—a crisis of bad conscience, an itch for a verbal democratization—a disorder from which it is just barely recovered in the present period. Thank heavens, it is now in recovery and at the point of returning to its full energy. If you still see it perform some gesture lacking in assurance here and there—a hesitant gait, a look of concern on its face—do not be worried: colonization itself is surprised to feel so powerful again, so free to act and speak according to its heart. Hence some vertigo and some visual disturbances; it is a simple matter of getting used to the return to broad daylight.

***

Can we, however, ignore the movement of democratization begun by the outre-mer French policies during the years immediately following the liberation of Metropole soil? The freedom of the press has been proclaimed nearly everywhere; the natives have become voters and even French citizens—or at least “citizens of the French Union”; local assemblies have been instituted, certain territories have even been promoted to French “departments.”¹¹ Along these lines, we could mention other provisions that express a clearly democratic inspiration.
Let us take an example. The case of Algeria, which is bound to comprise the best possible outcome for this general tendency, will consequently provide us with its most decisive illustration. The history of Franco-Algerian relations, after more than a century of official camouflage and persistent illusions, is, of course, beginning to be somewhat known: there was the conquest, with its deplorable reasons; then “pacification” with its raids, its destruction of villages by the dozens, its enfumades¹² of entire tribes; then the period of peaceful exploitation, with its more hidden, nearly normalized violence, and its recourse at all times and to every degree to arbitrariness. Finally, there was World War II, the Atlantic Charter,¹³ Roosevelt’s declarations and the great thoughts born of the Resistance. And doubtlessly, it hardly matters that the structures of Algeria had been, up to that point, entirely antidemocratic; the only question is if real modifications have been brought about since then and if this colony is today truly the equivalent of a French province. Let us refer then to the very text that was conceived expressly to establish this sort of peaceful and legal revolution: the Statute of Algeria, passed by the French Parliament in September 1947.
“Article 1. Algeria constitutes a group of departments endowed with civil personhood, financial autonomy, and a particular organization.” In other words, these “departments” are not true departments.¹⁴
“Article 2. Real equality is proclaimed for all French citizens. All French nationals of the departments of Algeria enjoy, without distinction of origin, race, language, or religion, the rights related to French citizenship and are subject to the same obligations.” Hence this consequence: the Algerian Assembly—which is “charged with administering, in accord with the Governor General, the interests proper to Algeria” (Article 6)—“is composed of one-hundred and twenty members: sixty representing the citizens of the first college and sixty representing the citizens of the second college.” (Article 30). These French citizens between whom “real equality” has been proclaimed are nevertheless divided into two electoral colleges, so that a million and a half Europeans have the same number of representatives as eight million natives. This precaution could be judged sufficient; just in case, another is taken: “at the request of either the Governor General, the Commission of Finances, or one quarter of the members of the Assembly, the vote can only be passed [acquis] after a delay of twenty-four hours and by a two-thirds majority of members unless a majority can be found in each of the colleges” (Article 39).
An analysis of the other articles would be no less instructive. But it is not necessary to go any further to observe that the negation of democracy is included here in the law that claimed to institute it. Indeed, Metropole institutions are never considered to be directly applicable in the case of colonial territories; it is necessary to subject them to a “transposition,” which aims to adapt their content to colonialist demands, while maintaining the democratic phraseology. From its very first lines, the Statute of Algeria displays its true project, which is to fully safeguard the structures of colonial oppression. It does even better: it goes as far as giving them a foundation in law, under the most decisive relationship, since the settler elite finds in it its traditional conception of Algeria as its “preserve”—legalized and passed under a “democratic” veneer. It is a “preserve” completely independent from the Metropole at the financial level and only recognizes the latter’s authority when it obtains some favorable commercial measure or the support of its armed forces during times of trouble. This separatism can sometimes resort to the most violent measures, from the resignation of the mayors of Algeria—as happened when the settlers set out in 1936 to defeat the project of Blum-Violette¹⁵—to the massacre of some twenty thousand natives in May 1945,¹⁶ which had the precise goal of rendering any realization of the hopes conceived by the Algerian people in the euphoria of the victory over fascism impossible. And it is indeed in working under the atmosphere created by these “riots,”¹⁷ that two years later the Algerian settlers, using the methods of influence analyzed here by Claude Bourdet,¹⁸ maneuvered the government and French Parliament into the adoption of the current Statute when (then Council president) Ramadier’s intervention prevented the report on a bill approved by the Commission of the Interior.¹⁹ A similar maneuver made it possible to avoid casting light on the events of May ’45—by obtaining the recall of the commission of inquiry appointed by the second Constituent Assembly before any actual work was done.
Facing vague Metropole desires for democratization and as a counterattack to the growing consciousness of subjugated peoples, “revolts” of the same order in some territories have been provoked, or at least favored, and then submitted to the most monstrous forms of “repression”: we have not forgotten, among other things, the sinister Malagasy affair of 1947.²⁰ In each case, the objective was to slow down the rising action of native political movements provisionally and to “prove” that these rebellious barbarians were not ready for democracy. Hence the adoption of these rigged laws, which apparently were meant as a decisive step toward democracy in various French colonies, but which in each case entailed exactly the provisions most likely to prohibit any real democratization. The “gap” was of the sort instituted at the very level of legality, and the play of democratic institutions did not risk being distorted by the actual context, because there were indeed institutions—but they were not democratic.
The fact remains that their function was nonetheless hastily paralyzed. Rightfully considered by the natives as a colonially “imposed charter” that went against all official promises and the most solemn assertions given over the previous few years—the Statute of Algeria has been ceaselessly treated with derision for nearly five years by the very people who have been charged to enforce it. It is true that—up to a certain point and in a very crude fashion—appearances have been kept up. For example, elections have been held and the Algerian Assembly has been created. But these elections have been so completely fraudulent that it has become customary, even within the colonialist milieus, to consider them as mere formalities for which the results are known in advance; in fact, they are actually nominations. We know the means: classical forms of corruption, the authoritarian preparation of the list of candidates, pressures exercised locally by chiefs and administrators of mixed communes, the deployment of forces and the atmosphere of repression around polling stations, an obligation on the voter to vote without a secret ballot, the provocation of incidents that serve as a pretext to expel the delegates of opposition parties or even the total evacuation of the polling station, the stuffing of ballot boxes and, finally, the pure and simple falsification of results. As for the Algerian Assembly, we understand that most of its members are no longer very sensitive to the many breaches it imposes upon its own rules. Its commissions are constituted exclusively according to political affiliation. Venality, even if illiterate, is preferred to competency, which does not offer the same guarantees of “loyalty” to the Administration.
Let us recall again that the administration of the Algerian Assembly is fairly constantly carried out by Government-General appointed civil servants. . . . We can point to many scandals—no enumeration can render the feeling one gets from this Assembly’s meetings; it is necessary to have followed a few to truly measure the abject derision of this “democracy” that France has accorded to Algerians. And it is within this atmosphere, both farcical and sinister, that we must hear the resounding bitter protest of a “nationalist” delegate: “When one has a majority, one acts more elegantly!”
It is true that the settler elite is not tranquil. No supremacy appears sufficient anymore, ever since the democratic terms were officially introduced in its domain. Since his arrival in Algeria, Governor-General Naegelen had been carefully indoctrinated; if one meant to democratize the Muslim masses, it was advisable above all to take them in hand as firmly as possible²¹—hence the “elections” we witnessed and the atmosphere of repression that soon set in. But when Naegelen intended to take hold of a little of the authority he had largely conceded to the administration, when he wanted to draw the benefits that he had expected for himself from the operation and proclaim finally that thanks to him²² Algeria was restored to order, ready for a democratization “that respects French sovereignty”—this great servant of Algeria was made to see that he was becoming burdensome and that wise masters do not bear bad servants. And so there was much haste to organize the famous “conspiracy” of April and May 1950—which descended into farce, but which could just as well have precipitated a new May 8 in Algeria. . .
At the present time, the commitments, even the most precise, which the Statute has created, are still waiting to be respected. By way of example, Article 53 calls for the suppression of “mixed communes,” domains of the most complete arbitrariness—the application of this measure being subject to “decisions of the Algerian Assembly.” But as the Union démocratique du Manifeste algérien²³ (Ferhat Abbas) had submitted a proposal in 1949, the Administration opposed it three months later with a counter-project. Finally, the question was buried, the majority having decided, in complete contradiction to not only Article 53 but the formal provisions of Article 52, that it lacked the qualification to make a decision. There is an analogous situation regarding the separation of Church and State, similarly planned for in the Statute: the proposal that the UDMA submitted a year ago has not yet been discussed—a delay that is quite understandable when one knows what an extraordinary means of pressure on the Muslim masses is created by the Administration’s hold on the tangible forms of religious life. In the same manner, the plan for complete education directed by the decree of November 27, 1944 (the execution of which Article 47 of the Statute conferred on the Governor-General, thus placing it outside the control of the services of National Education) has been the target for the last five years, of systematic torpedoing under the cover of an equally wretched rigging: very few new classrooms are built, but all the old rooms are split. In other words, they are utilized by twice as many students and the classes that previously were held over the course of a whole day are today held over a half-day. This allows for the production of fully satisfying statistics—and for reducing the education budget, as was done during 1951–1952 by five percent. Correlatively, the budget of General Security has increased to one sixth of the regular budget (10 billion of 60).
In April, Les Temps Modernes spoke of the Metropole press: the outre-mer press would merit an equally important study but would definitely be sharper. To stay with the case of Algeria, let us recall that of the five daily newspapers—Alger-Républicain (communist), L’Echo d’Alger (reactionary and Petainist), Dernière Heure (evening edition dependent on the Echo), Le Journal d’Alger (pseudo-moderate), and La Dépêche quotidienne (organ of Henri Borgeaud²⁴)—four are colonialist and all are below mediocrity.²⁵ However, the latter is noticeably the worst; each month its owner sacrifices a respectable number of millions for a circulation that has become absurd. As for the other three colonialist papers, they now belong to Blachette, who was already owner of the Journal d’Alger and who last October purchased a fifty-two percent share of the Echo. Blachette, to whom gubernatorial services had granted the rights to exploit the immense alfa grass fields in the South free of charge, is one of the two or three men who have the means to make it rain or shine in Algeria.²⁶ His present projects consist of keeping the Echo on its usual line, the suppression of Dernière Heure, and the assignment of the Journal to a seemingly pro-Muslim policy. . .
In the background, the police carry on their work and justice continues to renounce itself. The recent trial—mostly in closed proceedings where approximately sixty militants of the MTLD²⁷ accused of participating in the famous “conspiracy” of 1950²⁸ were tried—has given Claude Bourdet²⁹ the occasion to say all that could be said, in particular, on the methods of obtaining “confessions” and the compiling of “dossiers.” We will only recall that Bourdet suggested at the end of his article that the Administration attack L’Observateur. But it would seem that the Administration did not take issue with this description of its actions.
Such is democracy in the most “democratized” of our colonial territories.
It is not necessary to evoke worse examples. We can however conclude that the so-called “exceptional” measures have become so normal in the “outre-mer” that the officials responsible for French policy no longer even seem bothered to have to take up or to cover up the most monstrous of them: the Tunisian affair³⁰ is sufficiently eloquent in this respect.³¹ It is even striking that on this point some of its aspects, which are not even the most minor, seem to have been thrown into the shadows by the light cast on the others. Has attention truly been paid, in particular, to measures taken by the Administration against the civil servants guilty of having participated in the strike on April 1st? It is possible that certain penalties have been thereafter lifted or at least reduced.³² But the mere fact that this recourse has been allowed, speaks volumes about the real implications of the “democratic” arguments in the name of which the method of direct administration against certain peoples is obstinately practiced, despite the worst warnings. For it is obviously in order to force Tunisians into democracy that their representatives are arrested and taught the beauty of the state of siege, civilian mobilization, and collective responsibility; it is to save Moroccans from feudalism that the Residence of Rabat, which has learned nothing since Lyautey,³³ refuses them basic liberties while relying more than ever on the most corrupt among the greatest feudal lords. After all this, the lack of political maturity is calmly invoked to justify maintaining authoritarian structures, the only guarantee of an authentic step forward on the path of progress. Hence, it is necessary to conclude that the democratization of a country essentially requires its strict dependency on another. It matters little that democracies are colonialist; they can only be so, and this is clear, democratically.

***

It is racism—the deeply-rooted conviction of their racial superiority—which ordinarily allows the great majority of settlers and colonial administrators to maintain a relatively “good conscience,” even as they foster the most abject forms of oppression or as they become its accomplices by neglecting to protest. Today, of course, racism gets bad press and nobody readily defines themselves as racist. But the very people who for the past few years have denied being racist are doing so in terms that show rather the full survival of the phenomenon.
In any case, they can easily protest; they now have another justification at their disposal. Franco’s theses, from an uneasy formulation in the atmosphere of 1944–1945, have become the fundamental theses of an Atlanticized Europe, the catechism of its circles of leadership. It is henceforth understood that a healthy policy is an anticommunist policy and that evil has its seat in Moscow. Pétain³⁴ was a sage (the settlers of North Africa, at least, never doubted it), Hitler had it right, and American power, if ill-advisedly directed against him during the last war, is today the only one that can keep communist undertakings in check. Every adversary of French sovereignty, every opponent, is communist. Colonial oppression is no longer oppressive—it is defensive. It aims to keep entire populations sheltered from evil. Repression is no longer repressive; it heals these populations by killing the germ of evil within them, whenever there is reason to fear that they have been subjected to its harm.
Supported by racism, camouflaging racism, and replacing racism when it comes to supplying justifications, anticommunism henceforth authorizes the most arrogant attitudes and the most criminal behaviors. Not only are the lords of colonization in charge of souls locally, within their fiefdom, but each one of them can consider himself invested in a kind of higher mandate: a supreme mission has been entrusted to him; he holds one of the outposts in the grand strategy that assures the definitive triumph of the forces of Good across the world. For this reason, as a soldier for a cause, he is accountable, a demanding discipline informs all his acts; but the superior authority to which he is accountable is not clearly defined, and he feels a harsh imperative weighing on him which, in the final reckoning, only comes from within. By virtue of Stalin’s name alone, colonialism becomes its own god and forges for itself—beyond the long-standing jests of the civilizing mission—a terrible morality of humanity’s salvation through a crusade against the Soviet Union.
For once, however, colonialism, at the very time it recovers an exceptional power, seems to be the first dupe of its new attempt at mystification. In its traditional form, it was not, after all, absolutely inconceivable that colonialism might come to recognize the necessity of certain arrangements: I mean that it is difficult to provide fanatics of reformism proof that it would never come to recognize it. Now, there is no longer any proof to supply. French colonialism, turning to imperialism to draw on new forces, has chosen suicide. The American strategy, to which it has naively rallied, involves the negation of its privileges in the short term, the liquidation of its sovereignty. Nothing inclines these outdated despots toward competition with private American capital; with their present political options, everything tends to prohibit once and for all the recourse to reasonable solutions, which perhaps might have permitted them to survive for some time. By believing that they are rearming themselves, they are only handing over power and rendering a situation more contradictory and more untenable than it already was.
We knew, for example, that the Algerian economy had long constituted a challenge to common sense. And the inexpiable buffoonery of accredited commentators (the most recent being probably Pierre Frédérix³⁵) would change nothing of the fact that in Algeria, production has not been driven by the real needs of the country but by the immediate interests of its effective owners. The result is that the cultivation of vineyards has been prioritized over wheat, even though the diet of the native population is based on grains, and that the amount available per individual has dropped over the last fifty years from four hundred kilograms to less than one hundred and fifty. But wine, quite simply, sold better. We knew, also, that capital invested in the colonies was not intended for their development but only to start and maintain a circuit of exploitation; that this exploitation itself was almost never rational, operating, above all, according to the calculation of the greatest profit in the least amount of time; and, finally, that Metropole capitalism, by transposing its already weakening dynamism to the colonies, degraded it into a nearly total statism—by its concern to not give space for any massive proletarianization, but also by choosing the easiest option. After all, this exploitation, which creates nothing, was certainly profitable for the time being. Nevertheless, it took on the risks of catastrophe, since it limited itself, in avoiding the true problems, to making their peaceful solution more difficult and more improbable every year.
Between 1944 and 1947, colonialism fought triumphantly against democratic principles and the idea of freedom. But soon the violent realization in different parts of the world of certain “popular democracies,” coinciding, in Asia, with a powerful desire for emancipation from western imperialism, the sudden emergence of a Vietnam capable of holding French troops in check—in sum, the constitution of a powerful bloc, determined to struggle by all means against traditional capitalism and successful in standing up to it, was going to lead colonial capitalists to choose suicide for fear of death. Against this bloc, which was Evil itself, another bloc—at least as powerful, and without a doubt probably more so—stood up. This could only be the Good. They rallied to it without delay.
But Europe had also just rallied to it—a Europe which no longer had the least confidence in itself and whose dreams were divided between African exoticism and salvation by America.
What the Planning Commission could not secure in a national capacity—the beginning of a rational process of industrialization—was thus accomplished in the private sphere, by the influx of capital, indeed even industrial plants, which no longer felt secure on the European continent. Economic liberalism, from which came easy colonial domination, was going to turn against colonialism, now exposing it to the disadvantages of competition—and, more distantly, to the horrors of class struggle. Eurafrica—a conception “made in Germany,”³⁶ and which already seduced the White House in the interwar period—was once again on the agenda. But by all appearances Africa will not be the field of expansion for Europe, and “Eurafrica” is already but a euphemism, under which Europeans are called to discover each day the true reality a little better—some kind of “Amerafrica”. . . The transfer of Indochinese capital is nearly completed, while that of European capital is in progress. Moreover, do the current colonial owners think they can resist the wave of private investment rushing in from America in aid to underdeveloped countries?
They chose to have American power on their side. But without a doubt they ignore what nourishes this power and that, when one calls upon the Armies of the Good, it is necessary to expect also that they do not come without baggage. They have bet on the Atlantic system, but they have not seen that the system’s own strategy, in progressively displacing its center of gravity from Europe to Africa, sounds the death knell for their Africa. In the same issue of the luxurious review France Outremer in which we noted the awaiting of a true French imperialism, the Air Force general Piollet, inspector general of the Outre-mer Air Force and member of the Superior Air Council, was asked to show “how western Europe can have a chance of success in playing the role of outpost for the Atlantic Pact, in the imperious condition of shoring up by the whole African continent, closely joined together on the political level and meticulously equipped on the technical level.” Subject to this reservation, the general assured that “Africa allows for all maneuvers, both to Europe and to Asia,” and that its essential characteristics dispose it to a crusade, as least as much as to defense: “its size alone defends it from surprises from adversaries and allows offensive operations directed against these adversaries to prepare in the greatest secrecy.” We will have moreover guessed that Africa can, obviously, play this role “only on the express condition that it is wholly linked to the policy—and to the political choice—of the West.” But we should not be concerned by that, because the matter just happens to be in our hands: “Fortunately, almost all of Africa, by virtue of treaties of alliance, is under the jurisdiction of protectorates or colonial pacts of three already closely-knit powers within Europe: Great Britain, France, and Belgium.”
Hence we must doubtlessly conclude that colonialism, crossing into adulthood, has become doddering and works toward its own ruin. But we see that its suicide does not benefit its victims and that it is not accompanied by any repentance; it is marked by the same anti-democratism and the same negation of the human which already characterized its entire existence. Similarly, but on a more modest scale, a defeated Hitler dreamed of annihilating all of Germany before disappearing under the ruins of Berlin.

1. Translators’ note: Jeanson’s essay introduces several essays collected under the theme “Is This Democracy?”: Claude Gérard, “Pacte colonial et démocratie,” Jacques-H. Guérif, “La naissance du prolétariat marocain,” Claude Bourdet, “Les maîtres de l’Afrique du Nord,” and a collectively authored piece, “Ce mâle empire…”
2. North Africa (Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria), so-called “Black Africa” (the former French West African colonies), Madagascar, the Caribbean (including Guadeloupe, Martinique, Saint-Barthélemy, and others), and Southeast Asia (notably Vietnam and the wider region once referred to as “Indochina”) were all once part of the French colonial empire.—Ed.
3. La métropole—mainland, white, European France—occupies the symbolic and political center of the Republic, consolidating its identity, authority, and resources. In contrast, the term outre-mer—literally “beyond the sea”—marks the so-called overseas territories as peripheral, racialized spaces, lingering remnants of empire. Far from neutral descriptors, métropole and outre-mer reflect and reinforce a colonial logic embedded in French language, one that naturalizes the hierarchy between the imperial center and its dominated margins.—Ed., Material.
4. Translators’ note: see footnote 2.
5. Translators’ note: see footnote 2.
6. Translators’ note: The “Estates General on Colonization” gathered in Douala, Cameroon in September 1945 and again in Paris, France in July 1946; it brought together the main economic stakeholders in France’s colonies. They opposed the results of the Brazzaville conference and the transformation of the Union française adopted by the French Constituent Assembly, which granted unequal voting rights to the residents of what were no longer colonies, but overseas territories (Territoires d’Outre-Mer). Paul Isoart, “L’élaboration de la Constitution de l’Union française: les Assemblées constituantes et le problème colonial.” In Les chemins de la décolonisation de l’empire colonial français, Charles-Robert Ageron, ed., CNRS Éditions, 1986, https://doi.org/10.4000/books.editionscnrs.445.
7. In this passage, Jeanson highlights, among others, the limitations and contradictions of the French Communist Party (PCF) in relation to the struggle for Algerian independence. While the PCF condemned colonial repression, it refused to acknowledge the necessity for the Algerian people to wage a revolutionary armed struggle against French imperialism. Jeanson thus denounces a “colonial-reformist” stance which, in the name of republican legality, ends up denying the Algerians’ actual right to self-determination. In 1956, the PCF went as far as voting in favor of granting “special powers” to the French army during the Algerian war.—Ed., Material.
8. “Logique du colonialisme,” Les Temps Modernes, no. 80 (June 1952), 2213–2229. Translated by D. Z. Shaw and Jérôme Melançon.
9. France Outremer, December 1951.
10. See footnote 6.—Ed., Material.
11. Translators’ note: In 1946, following the work and advocacy of the outre-mer members, the National Assembly put forward a law that transformed Guadeloupe, Martinique, La Réunion, and French Guiana from colonies into departments. This placed them outside the reach of the Ministry of the Overseas (ministère de l’Outre-mer) and colonial governors, and within the scope of the Ministry of the Interior, meaning that most of the laws that applied in France also applied there. Algeria would also have three departments: Alger, Oran, and Constantine (the rest being governed militarily).
12. Translators’ note: the term “enfumade” refers to the practice, during the conquest of Algeria, of French forces setting fires just outside caves to suffocate whole communities of native Algerians, regardless of whether they were fighting or simply fleeing colonization.
13. Translators’ note: Winston Churchill and Franklin Roosevelt issued the Atlantic Charter in 1941, setting out a post-war path to a different world order. The Charter is a declaration on the rights to self-determination and development for all peoples.
14. It is remarkable moreover that Parliament, having to choose between “overseas departments” and “French departments,” believed it had found a solution in opting for “departments”—full stop.
15. Translators’ note: In 1936, during the Popular Front in France, Léon Blum’s government prepared a bill on the basis of suggestions by Maurice Violette, a past governor of Algeria. This bill sought to give French citizenship to a relatively small number of Indigenous Algerians, without requiring that they renounce Islam.
16. Translators’ note: Here Jeanson refers to the massacres committed by France in the Sétif, Guelma, and Kherrata regions of Algeria, immediately following the liberation of France.
17. One also employed the term “rebellion.” But there were 102 Europeans killed and for the most part, during the course of the first day, while the massive operations against Muslim populations continued for the next eight days.
18. Translators’ note: see footnote 2.
19. The same Ramadier came to rightly declare, on January 21, 1947, before the National Assembly: “The French Empire has disappeared to make way for the French Union.”
20. Translators’ note: The word “Affair” here is a much-used euphemism to speak of the repression of an insurrection and of a following massacre perpetrated by the French army, much like what would eventually be called the “Events” of Algeria in reference to the war.
21. Translators’ note: In this essay Jeanson is using the term “Muslim” to evoke and challenge the French convention of referring to Arabic Algerians, regardless of religion, as “Muslims,” as opposed to “Algerians,” which referred to white colonists. In “Cette Algérie, conquise et pacifiée,” he notes that he uses the term “Arabs in these pages, and for the same reasons that of Muslims, to designate native Algerians regardless of their true origin. The reality is certainly more complex. But, on the one hand, this simplification is readily made by the French of Algeria. . . on the other hand, when the latter are concerned with distinguishing Arabs and Berbers (of Kabylia or M’zab), the aim is generally to grant to a minority group certain qualities that they are thus all the more comfortable to deny to native populations taken as a whole.” See Francis Jeanson, “Cette Algérie, conquise et pacifiée,” Esprit, 166 (4) (April 1950), 617–618.
22. He knew he was waiting for a seat in the National Assembly, while his “special mission” in Algeria could not be renewed indefinitely.
23. Translators’ note: The UDMA (in English, Democratic Union of the Algerian Manifesto) was a political party created to work toward Algerian independence and elected representatives to the French National Assembly in 1946.
24. Translators’ note: Borgeaud was a pied-noir (settler) who made his fortune in agriculture based on his family inheritance, was elected to various political offices, generally on the left, and controlled much of the commerce in French Algeria. He founded La Dépêche Quotidienne d’Algérie after failing to purchase L’Écho d’Alger.
25. Translators’ note: With this comment and juxtaposition, Jeanson is directly criticizing communist movements connected to the French Communist Party (PCF). The Party had been and would continue to be criticized for its colonialist stance as can be found in Aimé Césaire, “Letter to Maurice Thorez,” Chike Jeffers, transl., Social Text, 28 (2), 145–152.
26. On January 11, 1944 in the Consultative Assembly, Charles Laurent, president of the Commission on the Purging of the Press, declared: “In Algeria, the press is owned by three families, who moreover have ties between them. In Morocco, it is in the hands of one man [reading homme in the place of komme]. The Tunisian press is owned by the Railroad Company.” Eight years later, it is difficult not to take the complete existence of such a state of affairs as conclusive.
27. Translators’ note: The Mouvement pour le triomphe des libertés démocratiques en Algérie (in English, Movement for the Triumph of Democratic Liberties) was a party created by the fusion of the Parti du peuple algérien (Algerian People’s Party) and the Amis du manifeste pour la liberté (Friends of the Manifesto for Freedom). It organized the protests that led to the 1945 massacres.
28. Twenty-four Algerians who have been held in preventive detention since 1945 were called to appear in February 1952.
29. Translators’ note: see footnote 2.
30. See note 34.—Ed., Material.
31. Concerning which Cahiers du témoignage chrétien has just supplied a remarkable and comprehensive exposé, based on excellent documentation: Le Drame Tunisien (Journal number 34). Translators’ note: Jeanson likely refers here to the repression of nationalist movements and particularly brutal violence in early 1952.
32. In any case here is what a French professor in Tunisia who had not taken part in the strike wrote me on April 6th: “Late in the evening, and only by radio broadcast, General Garbay delivered a warning, announcing serious penalties. The strike took place peacefully—semi-successfully (and not as a “total failure” as the papers announced). I don’t have sufficient information concerning the group of functionaries; but as it stands in the teaching sector: 1. some interns (few, it seems) were purely and simply dismissed; 2. other interns, more numerous, were suspended on April 6th (the beginning of Easter vacation) and reinstated on the 21st—which means they lost fifteen days of pay and, without a doubt, all the seniority they would have accrued; 3. a professor, Merlen, and two teachers, Mr. and Mrs. Jacquinot, were suspended from duty and are outstaffed to [remis à la disposition] the French government; 4. finally, all striking appointed functionaries, French and Tunisian, are suspended from their duties and will go before a Disciplinary Board.”
33. Translators’ note: Maréchal Lyautey was a general in the French Army and a colonial administrator in Morocco (and a member of the Académie française). He was notably a practitioner and theorist of colonial rule and counterinsurgency.
34. Translators’ note: Maréchal Pétain was Prime Minister of France and head of the collaborationist French state under Nazi occupation.
35. Le Monde, April 3rd, 4th, and 5th, 1952.
36. Translators’ note: English in the original.