About Algeria: Algiers, Tlemçen, Constantine, Biskra, Timgad

by Charles Thomas-Stanford

ALGIERS: DOORWAY IN THE RUE DE LA KASBAH

The hasty and inconsiderate modernization of an ancient and historic town such as Algiers suggests serious considerations. The process of destroying what is noteworthy for age or beauty in the name of improvement would seem to be generally accepted as one of the conditions of progress. Cities and towns, it is not unnaturally held, are not museums or curiosity shops; men are massed in them to gain their livelihood, or to pursue their pleasures. The antiquaries, those who admire and study the works of the past, because they are the works of the past; the nature-lovers, who “cultivate the beautiful without extravagance”; these are an insignificant section drawn for the most part from that hard-working class which is known to politicians as the idle rich. Their protests are of no great avail. Governments, if well-meaning, are lukewarm; local authorities, eager to be in the municipal movement, are commonly apathetic as regards the claims of mere ancientry or natural comeliness. Of what the modern Italians are doing to desecrate Rome and despoil Florence it is difficult to speak with patience. And it is the work of their own fathers that they are pulling down or vulgarizing. The conditions here are quite different, and the reforming zeal of the French so far less flagrant. They have replaced by their own civilization what they regard as the barbarism of a conquered race; they wanted the city of that race to live in, and they found it in every way repugnant to their tastes and unsuited to their needs. The soldiers began the work of destruction; soldiers destroy ruthlessly in the day of battle; but the persistent waste of the horde that follows after—the engineers, the architects, the speculative builders, the railway constructors, and the great industrial companies—is infinitely more damaging in the long run.

And what are we that we should cast a stone at the French? How much have we spared of old London and its suburbs? How much of the urban beauty and rural charm of England did our rude forefathers of the nineteenth century wantonly and light-heartedly destroy? When have railway projects or proposed public works been stayed on æsthetic grounds? Do the station and bridge at Charing Cross lend dignity to our great river? And, to look further afield, to what fate have we, masters of the Nile, condemned Philae?

In this changeful North Africa succeeding conquerors have imposed their civilizations and their works upon those of the conquered in a manner which has scarcely any parallel in Europe. Carthage destroyed, Rome came in her might and built a hundred cities, conducted water, brought huge areas into cultivation, and made roads after her manner; and in due time overthrew her own ancient altars in zeal for a new faith. In the age of her decrepitude Byzantium strove to maintain the Pax Romana, to curb the Vandal usurpation and the Arian schism, and to keep the aspirations of the indigenous population within bounds. All went down in a day before a troop of Arabians who rode as conquerors from Egypt to the Atlantic. Islam followed in their wake. The civilization derived from Europe disappeared; the watercourses were broken, the desert resumed its sway, and the stones of Roman temples and basilicas went to build the mosques and villas of the visitors. For twelve centuries the creed of Mahomet held dominion; Europe was busy with its own affairs, and endured the insolent depredations and exactions of the Deys with scarcely a serious attempt to suppress them. But at length the cup was full. An English fleet struck the first blow; a few years later France took the subjugation of Algeria seriously in hand; and to-day European civilization is once more paramount in the ancient provinces of Rome.

There are hotels in the town, frequented, perhaps, more by commercial than by leisurely travellers, and the visitor will probably prefer to lodge himself at Mustapha Supérieur. Here, if he chooses a house in a good situation, and obtains a room with a southern aspect, he may feast his eyes untiringly on a scene of great beauty. At his feet lies the bay where Charles V landed his ill-fated expedition—a shallow bay in which often the waves breaking afar out roll to the land in foam. Towering above the lesser hills which front its opposite shore are the snow-clad mountains of the Djurjura range, guarding the highlands of Khabylia, and glistening as if with crystals in the strong southern light. All around, on the well-wooded heights, are countless villas, of high and low degree, almost all of dazzling white, the whiter for the sombre foliage of cypress and stone pine and olive in which they are set. Perhaps no city of the earth possesses a lovelier suburb. The Englishman will find himself quite at home. The villas and the hotels are to a great extent occupied by his compatriots; and the institutions of his country are fitly represented by an Anglican church and a nine-hole golf-course. If he should be led to climb through an aromatic wood of eucalyptus to the home of “le golf,” and be able to remove for a moment his eye from the ball, he may enjoy a most glorious prospect. The snowy Djurjura of the south-east finds a rival in the Lesser Atlas to the south-west, and between the two lies a billowy champaign of cultivated and wooded hill and plain. If his preconceived notions of Algeria, like the great Tartarin’s, are dominated by the Sahara, if of Africa he knows only the river banks of Egypt and the rolling veldt of the South, he will perhaps recognize once more that Africa is ever the continent of surprise.

To return to the town. If at first sight the aspect of the French quays, and the modern streets, shops, and boulevards, destroys pre-existing illusions, ample amends are made by the colour and variety of the crowds which frequent them, a very colluvies gentium. Jews, Turks, infidels, and heretics jostle the faithful on equal terms; men and women sprung from very diverse stocks in Africa, Asia, and Europe, impartially and to all appearance fraternally throng the pavements and the public conveyances. The eye is dazzled by the combination of European fashions and smart French uniforms, with the outlandish aspect of Zouaves and Spahis, the white-robed dignity of the stately Arab and the rich colours of the impassive Turk. It is only after a time that one is able to separate them into classes, and to perceive that the native inhabitants fall naturally into further subdivisions.

The greater part of the inhabitants of Algeria, Tunisia, and Morocco, known collectively to Arabs as the Maghrab, and to our forefathers as Barbary,—an island girt by sea and desert,—still represents those original peoples who preceded the Phœnicians and the Romans. They have endured and survived many conquests, for the most part accommodating themselves to the conquerors’ institutions and religions. The Arabs called them Berbers,—the origin of the name is doubtful. Being to-day Arab in all but descent,—and very mixed in that,—they are described in common parlance as Arabs.

In A.D. 647, when the Sultan Othmar decided to attempt the conquest of North Africa, it was still under the rule of the weak Byzantine Emperors, Gregorius being its governor. Othmar collected 20,000 of the élite of the Arab forces, and added to them a similar number of Egyptians. This small army performed a brilliant feat of arms. Advancing against Gregorius, who was stationed at Sbeitla (in Tunisia), the Arab leader, Abdulla Ibn Säad, offered the Christian leader terms: that he should embrace Islam and render tribute to the Sultan. These being declined, a fierce battle raged for several days. Gregorius was in command of 120,000 men, but they were probably no match for the disciplined Arabs. It is said that his daughter, a maid of incomparable beauty, fought at her father’s side, and promised her hand and a fortune to whoever should kill Abdulla. This seems to have been a somewhat ill-advised proposal, for Abdulla, hearing of it, offered the same reward to the slayer of Gregorius. After several days of desperate fighting the Christian host was utterly defeated. Gregorius fell in the final onslaught, and his daughter was bestowed on Ibn Ez-Zobeir, who had slain him.

So ended the first Arab attack on Northern Africa. It had momentous consequences. Not only did it bind to Islam for twelve hundred years the provinces which for centuries before had been Christian and an appanage of Europe, but it paved the way for the Arab invasion of Spain.