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Torture in
Algeria. The report that was to change everything |
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International Committee of the Red Cross
Luis Lema
August 19, 2005
All other channels had failed. Nothing had worked –
neither contacts in French government circles, nor the
assistance requested from the French Red Cross. A meetin
g was therefore arranged on 31 January 1955 with none
other than the French prime minister, Pierre Mendès
France. The request was unequivocal: the International
Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) wanted to be given
access to people arrested during the Algerian uprising.
The matter was extremely delicate. The ICRC was
therefore as tactful as possible and took a variety of
precautions. It stressed the fact that the agreement was
that “the visits would be concerned solely with
detention standards and would not address the reasons
for the detention at all”. The ICRC is apolitical.
However, no territory was more political at that time
than that of the Algerian insurgence, which was shaking
the French Republic to the core. But it was too good an
opportunity to miss for those from the ICRC who wanted
to put into practice what the Geneva Conventions – on
which the ink was still wet – authorized it to do:
intervene in a State’s internal affairs. The ICRC was
going to have to play it tight in that devastating war
of decolonization that had broken out on the threshold
of Europe. It was going to find out to its cost just how
inventive States can be when it comes to covering up
what is happening in their own backyard. Its delegates
were going to have to get used to acting with restraint
and to keeping silent about the brutality they
witnessed. However, the prestige enjoyed by the
organization would speak for them. And other people
would take it upon themselves to make public the
evidence that they had patiently gathered.
A gift from Pierre
Mendès France
Let’s go back for a moment to Mendès France’s office.
Would the prime minister authorize the ICRC to become
involved in the very issue that was unsettling his
government? France had ratified the Geneva Conventions
in 1951. However, the fact of the matter was that there
were no provisions for sanctions that would actually
force it to comply w ith the ICRC’s requests. In the
face of the shock caused by the first attacks in
Algeria, the prime minister hesitated. He wanted to
quell the rebellion but also to put an end to the
brutality of which the forces of order were guilty. He
was counting on his interior minister, a certain
François Mitterrand, to put an end to these excesses
and, to the same end, had just appointed a liberal
intellectual, Jacques Soustelle, as the new governor
general.
Did Pierre Mendès France know that he was sitting on an
ejector seat? On 2 February, he authorized the ICRC to
visit those prisons during brief missions – the
delegates in Algeria “were not to stay longer than a
month” – and to conduct private interviews with
prisoners. But he covered his back: the ICRC’s work “was
not to be made public”. That was the condition, he
added, that would make those visits “such that they
would achieve the beneficial effect that you expect”.
Mendès France was not to see those “beneficial” results.
Three days later, his government was forced to resign.
However, he had opened doors that his successors would
not be able to close: thanks to the relative
confidentiality granted the detainees, they would tell
the delegates about the occurrence of ill-treatment. “It
was just as if Mendès France was preparing for his
departure by setting up as many protective barriers as
possible” was the view expressed by the French historian
Raphaëlle Branche, who wrote his doctoral thesis on the
subject of torture in Algeria.
Phantom soldiers
The delegates crossed the Mediterranean in March 1955.
They were not yet aware of how arduous their task would
prove to be. France actually refused to see itself as
being at war with the Algerian nationalists.
Consequently, if there were no war, the detainees could
not claim prisoner of war status. They were referred to
as “PAM”, the French acronym for “taken capt ive while
in possession of weapons”. Their fate was in the hands
of the French magistrates and they were to be brought
systematically before the courts. The ICRC was therefore
obliged to obtain special authorization from those
magistrates – a long, complex process since the judges
were going to do everything in their power to stop the
delegates from getting through.
According to Françoise Perret, who was
in charge of historical research at the ICRC, the
International Committee of the Red Cross was equal to
the challenge. It did not matter to France, which drew
on the full range of penal law to counter the rebellion,
whether those “PAM” were in line with the law of war or
not. “A rebel may consequently be sentenced simply for
having taken part in hostilities,” Françoise Perret
wrote. Far from being seen as instruments of the State –
as in the case of international conflicts – those
“soldiers” risked being given heavy sentences simply for
having taken part in the fighting.
Missing prisoners
France was to stick to its unfounded position for a long time,
although it became increasingly untenable as the events became
more like war. In 1958 General Salan, commander-in-chief of the
French forces in Algeria, set up special military internment
centres for PAM rebels. That was the height of deceit: although
those detainees were apparently being granted special status, they
were still not being considered prisoners of war. Military
headquarters in Algiers continued to state that the Geneva
Conventions were therefore not applicable.
The delegates were in no doubt that ill-treatment was rife in
certain detention centres, particularly during questioning. The
reports which they submitted to the French government sometimes
referred to particularly severe detention conditions. During the
talks held in Paris following those reports, the French
authorities made no attempt to repudiate the disturbing picture
painted by the delegates. However, they played a cat and mouse
game with them: in anticipation of the visits, certain detainees
who had been particularly badly treated were removed from the
places of detention. At times, whole parts of the detention system
were concealed from the delegates, especially in the area around
the “sorting and transit centres” where prisoners were packed in
and tortured before being sent back to the prisons.
Internal ICRC correspondence clearly shows that the delegates were
not taken in by these manoeuvres. In June 1959, when the French
army was still boasting about hundreds of people being arrested
during military operations, one delegate was puzzling over the
surprisingly constant official number of detainees. “In those
circumstances, what has happened to the other prisoners? By
looking at specific cases, we were able to tell that, contrary to
what we had been told, men who had been taken captive while in
possession of weapons were still being imprisoned.”
The delegates were likewise concerned about the spread of what the
authorities called “the operational exploitation phase for
prisoners”, a bureaucratic formula which basically meant the
temporary detention of “PAM”, in theory for a month. They noted
that “you know as well as we do that most lamentable things occur
during the ‘operational exploitation phase’: ill-treatment during
questioning, prisoners being shot while attempting to escape and
arbitrary detention in cells with a view to obtaining information
from the prisoner in question”.
Compared with those practices, the “improvements” in detention
conditions used as a front by the prison authorities were at times
disheartening. Take, for instance, the letter signed by a
brigadier in charge of the military internment centre in Ksar-Thir
and stamped “secret/confidential” until the archives were recently
opened. Among other improvements, reference is made to prisoners
being given sleeping mats, their being allowed to write to their
families once a month (the letters were censored) or even the fact
that there was copy of “Paris-Match” in the canteen.
However, that same brigadier general forcefully rejected the
ICRC’s suggestion that wounded prisoners be released: “The
unfavourable state of mind of the wounded does not make it
possible to adopt that solution, even if it were desirable,” he
said. “Those individuals pass themselves off as heroes of the
struggle for independence and their wounds symbolize wha t they
have suffered in the cause of holy war. As soon as they were
released, the beneficiaries would in all probability resume some
kind of activity for the FLN.”
A former deportee’s conscience
Having failed to achieve a direct result, the ICRC’s observations
were to have another effect: they were to open the eyes of those
people in Paris who sensed that the Algerian conflict was getting
out of control. On 5 January 1960 the French newspaper “Le Monde”
published a lengthy summary of the report on the ICRC’s seventh
mission to Algeria. “Numerous cases of ill-treatment and torture
are still being reported,” the article disclosed, coming like a
bolt out of the blue. A colonel in the French police force had
told the delegates, “The struggle against terrorism makes it
necessary to resort to certain questioning techniques as the only
way of saving human life and avoiding new attacks.” Now that
confession was there for the whole of France to read.
At that time, the occurrence of torture in Algerian prisons had
already been broadly documented. However, the staid and serious
nature of “Le Monde” was backed up by the legitimacy surrounding
the name of the International Committee of the Red Cross. At a
time when French public debate was entirely taken up by that
matter, the report dealt a bitter blow to the placatory statements
made by the Minister of the Armies. The publication of that report
broke the principle of absolute secrecy agreed between the ICRC
and the French authorities but no one accused the organization of
having been responsible for the “leak”.
In fact, the name of the person who sent the confidential report
to the journalists from “Le Monde” was revealed much later on. It
was Gaston Gosselin, a member of the Ministry of Justice who was
responsible for internment issues in metropolitan France. A keen
defender of the ICRC’s mission, he was shocked by those
revelations and decided to give the organization the publicity
denied it by the French government. Gaston Gosselin resigned from
his position a few months later. During the Second World War, he
had joined the resistance and had been deported by the Germans to
Dachau concentration camp.
It was more than a year before the ICRC was authorized to conduct
another mission to Algeria, time for the organization to hold a
number of meetings with a view to “taking more precautions in the
future”. At a meeting in 1960, the ICRC Assembly decided to show
that it was “very embarrassed by those indiscretions” as, it said,
“even if the ICRC was not responsible for them, they are such that
they could compromise other activities”. Nonetheless, the Assembly
was forced to acknowledge the fact that the publication of its
report earned it an impressive number of donations and
congratulations.
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