empire, architecture, and the city: french-ottoman encounters, 1830–1914
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Empire, architecture, andthe city: French-Ottomanencounters, 1830–1914Donna Robinson Divine aa Smith CollegePublished online: 20 Oct 2010.
To cite this article: Donna Robinson Divine (2010) Empire, architecture, and the city:French-Ottoman encounters, 1830–1914, The Journal of North African Studies, 15:3,407-409, DOI: 10.1080/13629381003600457
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BOOK REVIEWS
Empire, architecture, and the city: French-Ottoman encounters, 1830–1914, by Zeynep
Celik, Seattle and London, University of Washington Press, 2008, 274 pp, $60 (hardcover),
ISBN 978-0295987798
Empires are more judged than understood, and modernity is more an imagined than a precisely
defined phenomenon. But despite the ambiguities and inconsistencies, these two categories form
the rubric for Zeynep Celik’s impressive study of ‘the construction of public space in the French
and Ottoman Empires’ (p. 3). This book juxtaposes two empires, not so much to focus on their
differences, as to uncover the cultural interactions that developed across what are typically
described as radically opposed political boundaries and as a sad and sordid tale of Western
powers imposing hegemony over non-Western societies.
By challenging the dichotomous categories, Zeynep Celik’s approach ‘troubles’ – if not dis-
mantles – what has become the conventional version of the encounter between East and West in
the Maghrib and Ottoman Empire. Thus what appear to be the many differences between
Western and Eastern architecture, building, and infrastructure have been overstated even in
this an era of intensified political opposition. In their actions to shore up their empire,
Ottoman rulers relied on the very same technologies of control as their Western rivals. By doc-
umenting these convergences with such precision and linguistic elegance, Celik enables us to see
the hybrid nature of mechanisms of imperial control.
Methodologically, my choice to study these two regions in relation to each other promotes the
reconsideration of the conventional bilateral axes of east–west and north–south that continue to
dominate scholarly inquiry. By showing a multidirectional communication pattern that disman-
tles the one-way vector of European influences on Ottoman modernising reforms and the singu-
lar focus on France and the Maghrib during the colonial era, I hope to bring a new understanding
to cross-cultural relations. For example, one specific voyage of architectural ideas begins with
the Ottoman capital of Istanbul looking to Haussmann’s Paris for models of modernity. Right
around the same time, in a project by prominent architect Eugene-Emmanuel Viollet-le-Duc,
Paris turned to sixteenth-century Ottoman mosques of Istanbul to develop a monument in an
architecture parlante in Algiers that was deemed suitable to visually summarise power relation-
ships in the colony. Several decades later, elements from Viollet-le-duc’s commemorative
design showed up in Damascus (after passing through Istanbul), this time to celebrate the
opening of the Damascus-Mecca telegraph line, a symbol of technology in the service of
Islam (p. 5).
For both French and Ottoman rulers, modernity held out the possibility of increased power for
the regime and political consolidation for the imperial domain. Rapid systems of communication
such as the telegraph and speedy mechanisms of transportation such as the railway made it poss-
ible to dispatch soldiers to restore order, stabilise imperial rule at the frontier, and enable some
people – in the Maghrib, more likely European than Arab – who lived at great distances from
ISSN 1362-9387 print/ISSN 1743-9345 onlinehttp://www.informaworld.com
The Journal of North African Studies
Vol. 15, No. 3, September 2010, 407–421
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one another to exchange goods and services and to market their produce across continents.
Of course, as the French changed the visual landscape of Maghribi cities – raising buildings
and paving roads – their reconfiguration of the environment created social upheaval for some
even as it produced harmony for others.
Perhaps for that reason, when the French arrived, the future of the Maghrib was thought to be
ordained, but this empire was partly at the mercy of forces beyond its control. France rose to
global power in the Maghrib by deploying its army and by pushing it into the hinterland over
newly paved roads and newly built bridges symbolizing the eternal construction of the colonial
state. Port facilities were expanded to widen opportunities for trade and provide the structure for
a cosmopolitan settlement of foreign businessmen lured by the promise of wealth and land.
French men and women convinced their colonial overseers to allow them to build their
houses on avenues in accordance with European taste and design and to turn their neighbour-
hoods into the dynamic centre of cities that would acquire dual national profiles. But though
the lines of a dual city could be discerned, the crossings and collaborations between the two
were also a defining fact of life.
French public buildings replaced Ottoman palaces to signal the substitution of one power for
another. But while the Arab markets in Algiers may have been destroyed, in the words of one
report, ‘leaving nothing substantial of the Arab town. . .’ (p. 95), even Algiers, with its dual
structure, never achieved the order or cleanliness its rulers and architects expected. According
to Celik, ‘the growth of the city continued to occur. . .without adherence to grand plans. . .’
(p.91).
Roads and railways that were emblems of French conquest and domination were quite natu-
rally embraced by Ottoman rulers as instruments for establishing an orderly and modern imperial
domain and for accelerating the pace of economic development. While technology and engin-
eering are conventionally assumed agents and icons of modernity, they were generally presented
as less than fully progressive instruments when associated with Ottoman policies perhaps
because the Empire was forced by financial constraints to grant ownership and concessionary
privileges for these projects to foreign businessmen and governments.
Still, the Ottoman government presented the construction of railways and the paving of roads
as their great achievement and marked them with rituals celebrating the successful union of reli-
gion and technology. The idea of a French ‘civilizing mission’ – even when ignored in practice
for purely strategic needs – had its Ottoman counterpart. With regard to the Haifa-Damascus
railroad line, one official wrote, ‘. . .the material benefits and welfare. . .are high for the
people’ (p. 30). The security benefits for the regime were even higher. Not surprisingly then,
as the railroad became an important symbol of Ottoman power, it also became a source of dis-
content for those, like the Bedouin, whose interests as guarantors of caravan travel it harmed and
who sought to block the technological changes they knew would alter their lives profoundly and
irrevocably.
While Ottoman reform efforts coincided with the massive changes in Paris’ built environ-
ment and political administration introduced by Baron de Haussmann during the Second
Empire, Ottoman rulers did not imitate the French by focusing their attention on urban
public spaces or on extending venues for leisure and entertainment. Ottomans cultivated pre-
eminence first and foremost through the construction of hospitals, schools, train stations, and
clock towers.
Zeyneb Celik has written a magnificent and provocative book, and one that should be read
by all serious students of Ottoman history and Middle East politics. She has assembled
material that enables the reader to see the imperial cities she discusses in dramatically new
Book reviews408
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ways. She has created images that draw us not only into imperial politics but also into the
empires’ physical landscapes as they were destroyed or as they opened up into new urban
spaces, and most importantly, as their intended meanings often contradicted with their unin-
tended consequences.
Donna Robinson Divine
Morningstar Family Professor of Jewish Studies and Professor of Government,
Smith College
Email: [email protected]
# 2010, Donna Robinson Divine
DOI: 10.1080/13629381003600457
Questioning the veil, open letters to Muslim women, by Marnia Lazreg, New Jersey, Prince-
ton University Press, 2009, 156 pp., $22.95 (hardcover), ISBN 978-0-691-13818-3
We are living in a much more complex world compared to our past generations. Our issues and
concerns are drastically different, more complex, and evade simple explanations. At this junc-
ture in our time, for example, we are witnessing an increasingly heated debate about the
Muslim woman’s hijab. The debate has been extended to a variety of discussions including
the question of which style of the hijab is deemed more religious and pious, as opposed to con-
stituting an expression of one’s personal political beliefs or other meanings inherent in metaphor
or symbolism now associated with a woman’s headdress. ‘Few items of apparel evoke quite the
debate in Western societies as the Muslim woman’s veil (headscarf), hijab, chadur or burqa
(head to toe coverage), and most recently the niqab (face veil)’ (Shirazi and Mishra 2010).
Against the background of numerous recent publications on this topic, Marnia Lazreg’s manu-
script constitutes yet another volume on the subject of Muslim women’s veiling or unveiling.
This text is a contribution to the literature of Muslim woman’s veil from secularist lenses. Never-
theless, this is a useful and interesting book from a secular perspective, which I predict will be a
successful read in the West. It contains an introduction and five chapters. In the introduction,
Lazreg speaks of how in her previous publications she openly objected to the literature and
media for the way Muslim women were portrayed as being oppressed by Islam. She also criti-
cised the media’s portrayal of Muslim women as in need of being saved from Muslim men and, if
unveiled, would be emancipated.
In this volume, the author has changed her rhetoric on the veiling subject. In every chapter of
this text, written as letters, Marnia Lazreg advises women to think before adopting a veil. Early
in the book she poses interesting questions to her readers: does being concealed from the gaze of
men protect women’s veiled bodies? Or, are veiled women aware that they are drawing attention
to their bodies (p. 20)? She asks: what if a woman’s body is modestly covered but her behaviour
is immodest?
Lazreg diverts her readers’ attention to the Quranic verse commonly cited to justify the need
of the veil to the believer. She writes: ‘. . .a key chapter (sura) in the Quran referring to dress does
not mention “modesty,” for the Arabic word is istihsham’(p. 20). My reaction to this statement is
twofold. First, this ‘key chapter’ to which she refers must be identified no matter how familiar
the reader is with the Quranic text. That specific chapter of Quran is Alnur (XXIV), verse 31.
But the greater issue is that Lazreg fails to make it clear that the word ‘modesty’ is translated
The Journal of North African Studies 409
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or interpreted differently depending on whose translation we read. Not every Muslim is educated
in classical Arabic such that they can understand the text in its original language.
Interestingly, when she wants the reader to focus on the term istihsham, she does not see
any problem in pointing out that the word ‘modesty’ is not mentioned (p. 20), but later she
uses the same argument to state that the real meanings of other terms in the text of the
Quran are uncertain for what they may have meant at the time of the Prophet. For
example, on the subject of the mistranslation/misinterpretation of the Arabic terms khimar
and jlbab as ‘veil’ in the text of the Quran, she asserts that we do not have historical accuracy
as to what women of the time of the Prophet wore, thus ‘. . .the terms used for their clothing
remain open to various interpretations, as does “modesty”’(p. 21). What the author argues
concerning the interpretations and the way they affect one’s practices is not new, as other
scholars have dealt with this issue as well (See Mernissi 1991; Shirazi 2001). Thus, this par-
ticular argument does not add any new knowledge to our understanding of the problems in
interpretation and translation.
Other scholars such as Nimat Barazangi exclusively focus on the Quranic chapters by Al-Nur
(Ch. 24) and Al Ahzab (Ch. 33), and she placed both of these chapters into their historical back-
ground and their relevancy regarding the conditions of attire, privacy, and the modesty that must
be incorporated ‘. . .while reading the guidelines of modesty and morality in the Quran. . .’ (Bar-
azangi 2004, p. 58). Asma Barlas also discusses the issue of the mode of interpretations that
exists among various reading of the same chapters and verses in the Quran. ‘Conservatives
read these Ayat [chapters] as giving Muslim males the right to force women to don everything
from the hijab (a head-to-toe shroud that hides even the feet). Some models even mandate
wearing gloves so as to ‘hide the hands’ (Barlas 2002, p. 54). Both Barlas (p. 57) and Lazreg
(p. 21) rightly note that to wear a niqab or a face veil is not commanded in the Quran.
I would argue that one can never use the text of the Quran alone to understand the dynamics of
how each chapter, verse, or even key words are read and interpreted without first reading the
ahadith and sunna of the Prophet. For the majority of devout believers, it is a combination of
the Quran, ahadith, and sunna that define the principle of Islamic practice for them. These mul-
tiple cross readings and the selection of what each individual feels is right has created a vast
literature and diverse opinions about whose version one must follow and more importantly
what constitutes the real Islamic practice. Of course, every reading is subjective because it is
open to multiple ways of interpretation.
In Lazreg’s book, Muslim women reveal their personal opinions and experiences about the
hijab. Some of these women wanted to remove their veils, while others were thinking of
wearing them. Early in the book, Lazreg speaks of her mother and how she could not come
to rescue her (the author) when a boy from the neighbourhood was hitting her. Her mother
did not have her veil on, thus she could not walk into the street in public to help her daughter.
The incident, which followed this event, left in Lazreg a long lasting negative memory about her
mother’s veil. Her next personal experience with the veil comes when the first signs of physical
growth became visible. The author states that she believes the veil makes a girl become aware of
her changing body (her grandmother said Marnia is growing and she needs to cover her body)
and all the social limitations that comes with it (p. 18). Later, she comments about how young
female Algerians of the post-colonial era during the 1960s and 1970s, in spite of having higher
education, still had to worry about adopting the veil. In this case, I believe she equates higher
education with unveiled women. Perhaps this was true for some period and region of Muslim
nations, but this equation is not entirely true now, as many university-educated Muslim girls
take on the veil voluntarily.
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In her writing about the complexity of political history vis a vis religion, Lazreg argues that a
woman cannot control what her actions may invoke by adopting a veil. Certainly no one can
entirely control what meaning they project by wearing certain items of clothing; rather, the
important factor should be what the garment personally means to the individual and how
content the wearer of the garment feels internally. The meaning of a woman’s veil can be inter-
preted in a wide variety of ways by her viewers; however, Lazreg also should grant some credit
to the woman under the hijab for what she thinks of herself and not what she thinks that others
think of her. And so, therefore, we must respect the veiled woman for the choice she has made to
wear it, and I emphasise the point of personal choice as opposed to imposed by force or out of
fear. By blaming the radical secularists or repressive governments like Saudi or Iran for forcing
the veil on women, perhaps she assumes that all the other veiled women in the world are also
coached to wear the veil by their dominators. She states: ‘None of them [radical secularists
and Wahabists, Islamists and Shi’i Muslims] trusts women with the capacity to decide for them-
selves how to manage their bodies and whether to wear a veil’ (p. 61), yet she is applying
(perhaps unconsciously) the same mentality, that is, the idea that the woman cannot make the
choice of her own will and volition. Should we automatically assume that a veiled woman
did not choose her veil of her own free will?
I agree mostly with the author on the question of what modesty means, which is that modesty
is in behaviour and not necessarily related to the coverage of the body. I was not comfortable
with her statement: ‘it [the veil] implies that a woman should humble, belittle, and feel sorry
for her body the locus of the self’ (p. 24). I do not believe that the majority of veiled women
(those that wear the veil based on their own decision) feel belittled and sorry for their body.
The author analyses other similar questions and issues to convince the reader why she feels
that women should not wear the veil and that wearing it is not necessary. I will skip these
details due to space limitations, but I would like to turn the reader’s attention to the subject
of the physical inconveniences of wearing a veil. Lazreg delves into this discussion by
stating: ‘. . .a tightly wrapped scarf on the head secured in place by an underlying headband
or skullcap makes the head sweat in hot weather’ (p. 130). I personally agree with her on this
issue. I do not wear a veil during my normal daily activities; however, secular unveiled
Muslim women should not assume that what seems to be inconvenient for us feels the same
to those who wear it out of firm belief and religious devotion. Lazreg tends to forget she is
not in a position to know first-hand about this matter of inconvenience, which is, after all, a rela-
tive matter. I do not believe that devout Muslims who wear the hijab question how hard it may be
to wear a hijab in any climate. Her statement, ‘A veil is neither comfortable nor convenient’
(p. 105) is too generalised a comment to account for the totality of women wearing the veil.
For example, one’s sincere dedication to a system of belief is not as inconvenient as Lazreg
might think.
In the same section, the author speaks in detail about the psychological affect on the woman
veiled, arguing that a hijab makes a woman feel removed from her environment, because ‘. . .a
piece of cloth that covers the ears several hours a day blunts sensory perception’ (p. 105). With
certainty I can assure the readers that wearing a pair of earphones for most of the day listening to
music or using a cell phone constantly talking or texting renders a person far more removed from
his or her immediate environment. Thus, I do not agree with her argument that because the body
and mind, according to the Quran and Islamic belief, must remain whole (as one) at all times,
wearing the veil over the ears ‘blunts sensory perception’ (p. 105). This seems a farfetched argu-
ment. I have not yet come across any veiled woman with ears covered who would entertain the
idea that her body and mind are not as one while she is veiled.
The Journal of North African Studies 411
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Overall, I generally agree with the aspects of Lazreg’s view regarding the issue of returning to
the veil to make a political point or a demonstration of discontent with the West’s policy towards
certain region’s governments. However, I firmly believe that wearing what a woman chooses to
wear of her own free will is a basic principle of freedom, regardless of what others think. Through-
out the entire book, Lazreg speaks in an eloquent and convincing tone against the wearing of the
veil. I am only partially in agreement with some of the points she raises as to why the veil is not
necessary. I believe she has missed one major point, which is that for the millions who are wearing
the veil for the wrong reasons (as she points out in her arguments), there may be millions more
who do not question it as they do not question the existence of God. For this second group,
veiling is part of the religious obligation and belief system. It is a requirement of their religious
practices, leaving no room for debate between wearing a veil and not wearing it.
In general, free choice is a legitimate right for anyone living in a free society either East or
West. Dr. Abdul Bari from the Muslim Council of Britain expressed his opinion about
whether Muslim women should wear the veil or the niqab: ‘No one should be compelled to
wear either the hijab (headscarf), the niqab (face veil) or the burqa (fullbody covering) [but]
Islam calls upon both men and women to dress modestly.’ (Shirazi and Mishra, p. 44). There
are numerous academic hybrid studies by sociologists pointing to a dual identity (for
example, see Killain 2003, 2007; Haddad 2007) who also argues that by now, the hijab is a
symbol of American Islamic identity. Religious garments worn by Jews and Hindus are not
up to question or debate. We allow without protest the Hindu woman her Sari and the large
red dot on her forehead, known as tilka, symbolising the third eye or mind’s eye, which is associ-
ated with many Hindu gods. She wears it on a daily basis as a sign of her devotion and belief in
her personal life as a Hindu devotee. I cannot conceive the idea that the tilka always carries a
political message or is a sign of oppression, given that she is wearing this symbol by her
choice. I should grant the same ideology to the Muslims who argue they are wearing the veil
as a symbol of religious devotion and nothing else.
In my opinion, the bigger issues involve how to stop religious institutions and governmental
agencies from setting rules and criteria that dictate what to believe and what the citizens or the reli-
gious followers should wear or not to wear. It is critical ‘. . .to recognise the nuanced position of who
may not subscribe to secular reasoning’ (Shirazi and Mishra 2010, p. 58), but also it is equally impor-
tant that we question ‘moral superiority of the secular vision.’ (Mahmood 2006, p. 347).
If scholars’ aim by publishing volumes on Muslim women is to inform and empower them,
then we must allow the women to choose their particular dress or life style. Human rights
include all the humans, veiled or unveiled equally. We must find a way in our hearts and
minds to uphold respect for our differences, and support the rights of others, even when we
do not agree with those others.
Despite my criticisms raised here, I admit that Lazerg’s writing is honest and easy to read, and
she raises crucial points that must be examined further. However, I was hoping to see more
engagement in other aspects of the hijab relating to its politics and recent debates on the immi-
gration policy, or citizenship, in our global and international arena.
Faegheh Shirazi
The University of Texas
Email: [email protected]
# 2010, Faegheh Shirazi
DOI: 10.1080/13629381003744149
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References
Barlas, A., 2002. Believing women in Islam. Unreading Patriarchal Interpretations of the Qur’an. Austin: University of
Texas Press.
Barazangi, N.H., 2004. Woman’s identity and the Quran. A new reading. Gainesville: University Press of Florida.
Haddad, Y.Y., 2007. The post-9/11 hijab as icon. Sociology of religion, 68 (3), 25–67.
Killian, C., 2003. The other side of the veil: North African women in France respond to the headscarf affair. Gender &
society, 17(4), 567–590.
Killian, C., 2007. From a community of believers to an Islam of the heart: ‘conspicuous’ symbols, Muslim practices, and
the privatization of religion in France. Sociology of religion, 68 (3), 305–320.
Mahmood, S., 2006. Secularism, Hermeneutics, and empire: the politics of Islamic reformation. Public culture, 18,
323–472.
Mernissi, F., 1991. The veil and the male elite, a feminist interpretation of women’s rights in Islam. Reading, MA:
Addison-Wesley.
Shirazi, F., 2001. The veil unveiled, hijab in modern culture. Gainesville: University Press of Florida.
Shirazi, F. and Mishra, S., 2010. Young Muslim women on the face veil (niqab). International journal of cultural studies,
13 (1), 43–62.
Question d’Etat, by Sid Ahmed Ghozali, Algiers, Casbah Editions, 2009, 319 pp., DA 600
(paperback), ISBN-978-9961-64-818-6
The career of Sid Ahmed Ghozali as a public servant in Algeria has been at once distinguished
and controversial. Very few individuals have held so many important economic and political
positions. He was prime minister in 1991–92 when the ill-fated parliamentary elections that
threatened to bring the Islamic Salvation Front (FIS) to power led to a coup d’etat and the sub-
sequent slide into civil war. He continued in that capacity under Mohamed Boudiaf, whose brief
tenure as president (January–June 1992) remains a crucial period in Algerian political history.
Ghozali also served as minister of foreign affairs, minister of finance and in other cabinet posts
under diverse administrations. From 1965 to 1979, moreover, he was the CEO of the giant
national oil company Sonatrach, the foremost managerial position in the country. Finally he
ran for president in 1999 and 2004, only to see his candidacy declared ineligible by the ruling
authorities. His life in Algerian political affairs is unparalleled, and this book offers a host of
insights into the mechanisms of ‘le pouvoir’ in the country.
The book is not strictly speaking a memoir. Rather it takes the form of an extended interview
with the journalist Mohamed Chafik Mesbah of Le Soir d’Algerie and Echourouq El Youm. Most
of the contents originally appeared in those newspapers over a three week period early in 2008.
Mesbah, therefore, chose the subjects to be covered with particular attention to controversial
issues of energy policy during Ghozali’s long tenure at Sonatrach. This focus will be of consider-
able interest to specialists of political economy. Ghozali’s preface (pp. 13–31) and the latter
third or so of the interview (pp. 179–213) treat broader political issues that will interest students
of Algerian politics.
Ghozali presided over the growth of a state enterprise that went from a few dozen to some
120,000 employees and from a capital of a few million dollars to more than 10 billion in 14
years. He emerges from these interviews as more of a policy wonk than a politician. Because
of its monumental economic significance, Ghozali complains, Sonatrach always got a bad
press, accused of being an ‘economic monster’ and a ‘State within a State’ (p. 57). He goes
to great lengths to defend his management of the company, notably the natural gas contract
that he signed with the American firm El Paso. This deal was the object of much criticism in
The Journal of North African Studies 413
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the party press and of ‘interminable politico-bureaucratic battles’ (p. 72). His insider’s view of
the politics surrounding the very motor of the Algerian economy is intriguing. To be sure, Sona-
trach was a behemoth in an otherwise largely dysfunctional economic system. Yet the author
argues that he had to fight tooth and nail to construct a viable company. He deplores its
breakup into multiple units after the death of President Boumediene in 1978, a policy which
he assails as ‘contributing to the anthology of acts of self-destruction which mark out our
bumpy fumbling about in a state of underdevelopment’ (p. 108).
Ghozali passionately and persuasively defends the enterprise that he managed throughout the
Boumediene years. His leadership was a model of expertise and integrity. His account is all the
more relevant in light of the recent scandal that has rocked the company. In January 2010,
Mohamed Meziane, president of Sonatrach since 2003, was arrested and indicted on charges
of corruption along with several other high-ranking officials and two of his children. This
blow to Sonatrach’s reputation may well make Algerians yearn for the era of Ghozali’s techno-
cratic leadership.
Sacked in 1979, Ghozali returned to public office during the turbulent years following the riots
of October 1988, first as Kasdi Merbah’s minister of finance, then as Mouloud Hamrouche’s
minister of foreign affairs. His account provides insight into the rivalries at the summit of the
Algerian political system as the monopoly of the National Liberation Front (FLN) came to an
end and the FIS challenged the very foundations of the regime. His term as foreign minister
coincided with the Persian Gulf War, and he discusses briefly Algeria’s efforts to persuade
Iraq to withdraw from Kuwait. There are brief vignettes of meetings with Muammar Qaddafi,
Saddam Hussein, Nelson Mandela and Francois Mitterrand.
Ghozali is very critical of Hamrouche. He implies that it was President Chadli Benjedid who
insisted on his being named foreign minister in the Hamrouche government. He describes Ham-
rouche as an opportunist who sabotaged the Merbah government for his own political ambitions.
The Hamrouche government in turn was dismissed in June 1991 after the army was called in to
break up a disruptive sit-in staged by the FIS to protest Hamrouche’s policy regarding parlia-
mentary elections. He refers repeatedly to Hamrouche’s ‘network’ and ‘political clique,’ observ-
ing that ‘I disagreed with the immoral political maneuverings of his clique’ (p. 246). He goes on
to accuse Hamrouche’s clan of destabilising and discrediting his own government. Much has
been said about the opaqueness of ‘le pouvoir’ in Algeria. Although Ghozali’s account is by
definition self-interested, it does shine some light upon the workings of the system.
The section that deals with his own premiership is not as extensive as one might like, but it is
informative. Ghozali’s primary mandate as prime minister was to organise the long promised
parliamentary elections that Hamrouche had failed to carry out. His approach was to institute
an electoral system of proportional representation to take account of Algeria’s new multiparty
landscape. Ghozali’s project, however, was rejected by the (still) FLN-dominated National
Assembly (APN) in favour of a single-member district system, a colossal miscalculation by
the FLN. This decision, compounded by electoral fraud on the part of a FIS that controlled
most of the local municipalities, led to the landslide victory of the Islamist party in the
first round of voting in December 1991. Ghozali states that he contemplated resigning
when the APN disavowed his plan. In retrospect, he regrets his decision not to resign: ‘That
was an error that I have since reproached myself for’ (p. 278). He also admits to having
handled his relations with Abdelhamid Mehri, secretary-general of the FLN, badly. On the
key issue of the deposing of President Benjedid in January 1992, he acknowledges that he
supported it, arguing that the future of the country was more important than strict respect of
the constitution.
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Ghozali greatly admired Mohamed Boudiaf and deplores his assassination as ‘one of the
greatest crimes ever done to Algerians’ (p. 287) without, however, speculating about the respon-
sibility for this murder. Many Algerians have never accepted the official account (a solitary act
by a deranged soldier) of this dismal event, but in this instance the author does not lift any veil of
opacity. He submitted his letter of resignation a week after the assassination, stating therein that
‘the martyr Mohamed Boudiaf greatly disturbed some people because he was the man of rupture,
the man of hope . . . an honest man determined to restore the authority of the State and to redirect
the country by stamping out corruption and returning Algeria to the Algerians’ (p. 288).
He claims that these parting remarks were never reported in the press. Because such words
are censored, because the cloak of opacity is there, Ghozali’s answers to Mesbah’s queries
are a valuable – if less than fully gratifying – contribution to our knowledge of the Algerian
political system.
In his final question, Mesbah invites this remarkable public servant to ponder Algeria’s future.
Ghozali identifies four problems, or ‘fragilities’, that need to be addressed: the fragility of
society, of institutions, of social and political actors, and finally the fragility of public authority
by virtue of the exercise of ‘solitary power’ (p. 304) which he later defines as ‘very limited
circles of power’ (p. 308). Closed circles of power, he argues, have produced ‘the incapacity
of the regime . . . to confront the grave problems that we face’ (p. 310). What is intriguing
here is that Ghozali speaks from an intimate knowledge of the highest circles of power. His
account and his critique are both constructive. Such a voice is well worth hearing.
Robert Mortimer
Professor emeritus, Haverford College, USA
Email: [email protected]
# 2010, Robert Mortimer
DOI: 10.1080/13629387.2010.485385
The international dimension of the failed Algerian transition: democracy betrayed?
Perspectives on democratization, by Cavatorta, Francesco, Manchester, UK, Manchester
University Press, 2009, xii + 210 pp., $89 (cloth), ISBN 978 0 7190 7616 9
In this well-written and informative book, Francesco Cavatorta evaluates the role that inter-
national variables played in explaining why Algeria, which experienced one of the fullest demo-
cratic experiments in the Arab world (1988–1991), failed to democratise. Following the first
round of the country’s first multiparty elections, in which the Islamic Salvation Front (FIS)
was poised to take a majority of seats in the National Popular Assembly, the military annulled
the results, and, ultimately, returned the country to authoritarian rule. Cavatorta’s central thesis
is that international factors are important, yet neglected variables for explaining democratic tran-
sition, both in Algeria, as well as elsewhere. Cavatorta argues that one factor – the West’s nega-
tive perceptions of Islamist parties – influenced the relative power of domestic actors and was
decisive in explaining the failure of the democratic transition, in part because of the political and
economic rewards western countries provided to the regime following the coup (p. 151).
Accordingly, Cavatorta makes two distinct scholarly contributions. First, he provides a com-
prehensive analysis of the international and elite-level dimensions of the democratic experiment
in Algeria. One of the region’s most important and neglected cases, Algeria was the first Arab
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country in which Islamist parties enjoyed full reign to compete, demonstrating to governments in
the region what they could expect if Islamist parties were allowed to participate freely and
setting a precedent for how western nations would be likely to respond to their success
(p. 124). Second, by developing a conceptual framework for understanding why and under
what conditions international variables shape domestic economic and political arrangements
and impact democratisation, Cavatorta not only elucidates the dynamics of the Algerian
transition, but also offers potential insights for scholars working on democratic transitions in
other world regions.
Through an innovative application of international relations theory, Cavatorta adopts and
extends the domestic actors’ model of transition.1 He suggests that under two conditions – ren-
tierism and key geostrategic location – the preferences of international actors could come to bear
on the power of incumbents and opposition in that state. Cavatorta identifies 11 variables that can
affect the outcome of a transition: the decrease in oil prices (1985/86); the victory of the Afghan
guerrillas (1980s); the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait (1990s); the end of the Cold War; 9–11;
democracy promotion activities of western countries; the use of Islam as a political tool; and,
the wane of socialism (Chapter 4). To test whether each affected the democratic transition, Cava-
torta uses secondary sources in European languages and original interviews with six privileged
observers, including an Algerian and French journalist, an advisor for Algeria to former French
President Mitterrand, a former US ambassador to Algeria, a Middle East Partnership (MEP)
representative, and a FIS representative (p. 206). He demonstrates convincingly that perceptions
of Islamist actors by western governments played a role in the failure of the democratic transition
in Algeria. Further, he provides compelling evidence that the ten other factors and events did not
play a causal role.
Despite these strengths, however, one event or variable is absent from Cavatorta’s discussion.
While he examines the role that the success of the Afghan guerrillas in the war against the Soviet
Union played in inspiring the FIS’s ideology, concluding that it was limited, a similar discussion
of the role that the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood appears to have played in providing ideologi-
cal impetus to the FIS is missing. For example, as a result of Algeria’s arabisation policies,
which sought to in reintroduce the Arabic language and Islam in Algeria following France’s
130-year occupation, a number of Egyptians taught Arabic and Islam in Algeria. Some
brought a vision of addressing social and political problems through a return to a pure form
of Islam, engagement in the political process, and, in some cases, violent opposition to the gov-
ernment. This vision resonated with FIS members and with many Algerians, perhaps affecting
not only the ability of the FIS to mobilise electoral support, but also giving incumbents and
western nations reason to believe that the FIS’ programme was, indeed, transformative and
threatening to their interests. A discussion of the linkages and interactions between the Algerian
and Egyptian movements could strengthen Cavatorta’s argument that western perceptions of
Islamist parties played a role in the failure of the democratic transition.
While the author’s thesis is generally convincing, he fails to fully discuss the range of alterna-
tive hypotheses that may have played a role in, or even been sufficient for, explaining the tran-
sition. First, what role did polarisation and asymmetrical mobilisation in the party system – that
is, the existence of parties with widely divergent platforms and abilities to mobilise support –
play in the failure? To the extent that these features of the party system reduce the likelihood
of the emergence of a competitive political system, as Michelle Penner Angrist has argued
with respect to state formation for most Middle Eastern countries except Turkey, they would
constitute domestic institutional features that explain the failed transition. Second, one could
easily argue that the incumbent regime had no intention of giving up power to Islamists or to
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any other party, and that the state’s coercive power and monopoly over patronage networks
would have been sufficient to initiate the coup, with or without the blessing of the West.
Third, Cavatorta’s analysis focuses largely on elites, neglecting whether there might have
been relatively widespread support for (or complacency towards) the military’s suppression
of Islamists.
Thus, while Cavatorta does not over-claim, it is possible that one or more of these domestic
variables – polarisation and asymmetrical mobilisation in the party system, state power, and
public opinion – might have been sufficient, challenging the internal validity of his argument.
Because the failure of the transition was likely over-determined, it is impossible to know the
extent to which international factors were decisive. Thus, Cavatorta faces a familiar problem:
authoritarian persistence in the Middle East and North Africa is over-determined. All countries
have reasonably strong Islamist opposition and have, thus far, failed to democratise. Inter-
national variables probably matter in Algeria and other countries in the region, yet we do not
have the means to adjudicate between the international and domestic explanations for the robust-
ness of authoritarian.
Finally, one wonders whether the model has external validity beyond the Muslim world.
Cavatorta finds evidence for one international variable in Algeria – perceptions of Islamist
parties – yet this factor does not apply to other regions.
Despite these shortcomings, the author makes a significant contribution to scholarly under-
standing of the failed democratic transition in Algeria and develops a theoretical framework
that fills a gap in the contemporary democratic transitions literature and offers opportunities
for extension to other regions. Cavatorta’s work is highly accessible as a text for undergraduate
students because of its clear and theoretically-driven presentation of several inter-related themes
integral to the study of the comparative and international relations of the Middle East and North
Africa. His work should be widely read not only by area specialists, but also by political scien-
tists working on democratic transitions in the region and beyond.
Lindsay J. Benstead
Assistant Professor of Political Science
Mark O. Hatfield School of Government
Portland State University, Portland, OR, USA
Email: [email protected]
# 2010, Lindsay J. Benstead
DOI: 10.1080/13629387.2010.485387
Note
1. The domestic transitions model, similar to an institutional approach, views democratic transitions as the outcome
of a path-dependent game between incumbent and opposition groups (p. 9).
Historical dictionary of Western Sahara, Third Edition, by Anthony G. Pazzanita. Forward
by series editor Jon Woronoff. Historical dictionaries of Africa, Number 96, Lanham, Maryland,
Scarecrow Press, 2006, lxv + 523pp, 7 illus., 1 map, US$135 (paperback), ISBN 0810855402.
The third edition of the Historical Dictionary of Western Sahara comes at a time when the status
of the territory is still under dispute. Like the first (1982) and second (1994) editions, this new
The Journal of North African Studies 417
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reference work finds the Western Sahara conflict unresolved. Though Morocco has asserted
sovereignty over Western Sahara and controls most of the territory, the Polisario Front, a nation-
alist movement backed by Algeria, continues to press for independence. The United Nations still
considers the Western Sahara a non-self-governing territory. Since 1988, the Security Council
has been ‘seized of the matter’ but has not yet found a way – or the will – either to hold a
self-determination referendum on independence or to force Morocco and Polisario to compro-
mise. The major developments between the second and third edition are the diplomatic interven-
tion of former US Secretary of State James Baker, from 1997 to 2004; the death of Morocco’s
King Hassan II and the election of Algeria’s President Bouteflika in 1999; the outbreak of large
Sahrawi-led anti-integration demonstrations in 1999 and 2005 in the Moroccan controlled terri-
tory; and the near total collapse of a peace process in 2005 and 2006. Western Sahara has defied
the mediation of three United Nations Secretary-Generals, and is set to fall into the lap of the
new United Nations head, Ban Ki-Moon.
Unlike the previous edition, this new edition is solely authored by Anthony Pazzanita, an
American lawyer and author who has followed the Western Sahara conflict since the late
1980s. He is also the co-author of the same publisher’s Historical dictionary of Mauritania in
1996 (second edition with A. G. Gerteiny). Having published insightful academic and juridical
articles and chapters on Western Sahara in the early 1990s, Mr Pazzanita has since then regularly
contributed updates on Western Sahara and Mauritania to the series Africa contemporary record.
He is also the author of a two annotated biographies on Western Sahara and North Africa
(respectively, Western Sahara, Santa Barbara, California: Clio Press, 1996; The Maghreb,
Santa Barbara, California: Clio Press, 1998).
The original edition of the Historical dictionary of Western Sahara, by British journalist/researcher Tony Hodges, was a massive work resulting from that author’s intensive, years-
long field study of the then seven-year-old war between Morocco and Polisario (Historical
dictionary of Western Sahara, Metuchen, New Jersey: Scarecrow, 1982). In many ways, the
first edition was a re-arranged version of Hodges’ 1983 subsequent and expansive book
Western Sahara: the roots of a desert war, which has become a foundational text in the
limited Anglophone literature on Western Sahara. In its scope, the first edition of the dictionary
was unparalleled; by comparison, the contemporaneous Historical dictionary of Algeria was
only one third the length of Hodges’ dictionary (Heggory and Crout 1981). However,
Hodges’ original dictionary had numerous obscure, arguably superfluous references (e.g.,
‘seaweed’ p. 316); many were simply cut from the second edition of 1994 to accommodate a
decade of new developments.
Building upon the previous editions, Pazzanita has focused his efforts on bringing the new
dictionary up to date, while also discarding entries that are no longer relevant. Thus key
entries like King Hassan II, Polisario or United Nations receive revision and extension.
There also numerous new substantial entries covering key events and personalities that have
come to the fore in Western Sahara since 1994: e.g., Kofi Annan, James Baker, Jacques
Chirac, Houston Accords, King Mohammed VI and Sidi Mohammed Daddach. And, of
course, the chronology and bibliography have been updated. It also improves on the previous
edition in technical ways. First of all, it is much easier to read because dictionary entries in
the text are rendered in bold rather than marked with a “(q.v.)” or capital letters. The birth
and death of persons has also been added immediately after entries. The chronology (xxiii–
xli) is thankfully more concise than the previous edition. Overall the text is very clean and
this reviewer encountered only one small typographical error. This book, however, is so prohi-
bitively expensive as to make even the most interested and dedicated observer think twice about
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purchasing it. Without a doubt, one will only find it in the reference section of major libraries or
research institutions.
In a work of this sort, given publishing and marketing constraints, any author is faced with an
almost impossible task of determining which personalities or events warrant an entry and which
do not. This problem is compounded in subsequent editions where the author has to decide where
to update, where to reduce and where to remove entries. This new edition largely succeeds in
presenting an array of concise entries that will be of great use and interest to the specialist
and generalist alike.
Still, it comes as a surprise that there are no new entries for key events like the Sahrawi dem-
onstrations of 1999 or 2005 (e.g., ‘civil society’, ‘protests’ or ‘demonstrations’); no mention of
leading figures in the Sahrawi Intifadah (e.g., Ali Salem Tamek, the Mutawakils or Aminatou
Haidar); key second generation Polisario officials are absent (e.g., Emhammed Khadad,
Kamal Fadel or Mohammed Beissat); and the Polisario reformist faction, Khatt al-Shahid, is
absent. Likewise, the issue of the ‘contested tribes’, a confusing but important point of Moroc-
can–Polisario contention that undermined UN referendum, does not have an individual entry,
though it is mentioned briefly in others. Nor is the Moroccan Conseil royal consultatif pour
les affaires sahariennes (Royal Advisory Council for Saharan Affairs or CORCAS) given an
entry, though it is Rabat’s longstanding official interface with the indigenous Sahrawis in the
occupied Western Sahara. (Since the dictionary’s publishing, Morocco has put forward
CORCAS as the ideal body for governing a proposed autonomy scheme.)
Another problem is that seemingly ‘historical’ figures that might warrant removal sometimes
reappear to assume new prominence. For example, Beydallah Mohammed Cheikh (or
Mohammed Shaykh Biadallah), treated in the first edition (pp. 60–61) and cut from the
second, should probably have been reasserted in the third given his notable role in CORCAS
and the Western Sahara peace process in the 1990s (e.g., see Jensen 2005, p. 52.). Though it
is too much to ask the author to anticipate developments, it would be helpful if the rationale
behind entry choices, priorities and constraints was presented in the introduction.
It is also disconcerting that some entries are surprisingly short while others remain quite
extensive. Polisario’s current leader Mohammed Abdelaziz receives a page (same length as
the 1994 edition) whereas Mohammed Heydallah, a Mauritanian head of state from 1979–
1984, receives almost four (a page longer than the 1994 edition). This is a case where the
author’s priorities are clearly backward.
The reviewer counted roughly 70 entries in the 1994 edition either removed or folded into
other entries in the 2006 edition. Of those, about 40 were significant entries; the rest were
entries – often alternate spellings – that pointed readers to another entry. Thus the new
edition is less cluttered but it also lessens one of the helpful features of the dictionary
format. For example, if a novice student comes across a reference to a notorious figure in
the history of Western Sahara, Jatri Uld Said Uld Yumani (a common Spanish transcription),
she will not find him in the new dictionary under that name, though the dictionary does
retrain an entry on Khatri Ould Said Ould Joumani (a French transcription). Whereas the
1994 edition would contain the former, and refer it to the latter, the new edition simply con-
tains the latter. Unless the reader is familiar with common French, Spanish and English
methods of rendering Arabic names and terms, the dictionary is now a little harder to
read. Though Pazzanita justifies this choice on the balance of recent literature being
mostly in French and English, hispanophones might beg to differ given the substantial
daily media attention on Western Sahara in the Spanish press versus the less frequent
French or British-American coverage. It also seems that much is lost, and nothing gained
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(except space), by removing these referring entries. In some cases, however, ‘variant’ spel-
lings are given in some main entries.
This raises another point. Like the previous two editions, the third’s inconsistent use of
French, Spanish and English transcriptions/transliterations should have been rectified at this
point. In a situation where there is little consistency and little consensus – and much contention
– on the spelling of names, the most reasonable approach is for the author to offer all the extant
variants instead of arbitrating them. Simultaneously, authors should present names in their stan-
dard and colloquial Arabic using one of the recognised scholarly transcription methods, but
perhaps without diacritics. Though French and Spanish are official languages of Morocco and
Polisario, respectively, Arabic is their common official language, and so there is a way to
resolve spelling differences that is neutral and consistent. So, for example, the major city of
Western Sahara, El-Ayoune in the dictionary, and Laaoune for Moroccans, would come
under al-‘Uyun, its standard Arabic spelling. Alternative spellings and its colloquial Hassa-
niyyah variant (La‘yun) would appear in the main entry, and referring entries of those variants
would refer back to the main entry. This is a large task that will require some original research,
but it is one that should have been carried out by now.
Indeed, this new dictionary is hardly ‘an entirely new book. . .written from scratch’ (p. xii) as
asserted by the series editor, Jon Woronoff, or ‘an entirely new presentation’, (p. xiii) as argued
by Pazzanita in his preface. Pazzanita does caveat his ‘considerable intellectual debt’ (p. xiii) to
Hodges, but this might lead readers to conclude – falsely – that this new edition only draws from
the previous editions indirectly. Quite the opposite is the case. Take this small example as illustrative:
AHEL ES-SAHEL. The people of the west, or littoral, of the desert, this was a collective name forthe Saharawis of the Western Sahara. In a more restricted sense, it referred to the small fishing tribesof the coast. (p. 26, second edition)
AHEL ES-SAHEL: Literally, ‘the people of the west,’ or littoral of the desert. Although it wasoriginally used to refer to only the small fishing tribes along the Western Saharan coast, in time itcame to generally denote all the Saharawis of the territory. (p. 5, third edition)
One might argue that in such a small reference there is little to change, which could be conceded on
descriptive grounds. (Yet on critical-analytic grounds, much of Hodges theorising of Sahrawi
identity arguably needs to be revisited, as it was grounded in classical evolutionist ideas
of nationalism.) However, even in longer passages, there is a striking similarity, if not one-to-
one congruence, raising doubts as to how much of the source material cited in the inherited
bibliography has been revisited with a sceptical eye over 20 years since the first edition appeared.
As a problematic effect of this re-writing of the first two editions, mistakes have now been recycled
into the third edition. As in the first edition (p. 18–19) and the second (p. 25), the ‘Ahel Brahim Ou
Daoud’ tribe is misidentified as a member of the ‘Reguibat es-Sahel’ confederation (p. 5). The final
battle of the war the Awlad Hassan (Ma‘qil) and the Zenagah is still called ‘Tin Yedfad’ (p. 385
third edition; p. 402 second edition; p. 313 first edition) instead of Tin Yifdad. Readers are thus
advised to use the third (and second and first) edition with care.
The value of this new edition lies in its contribution to our understanding of recent events in
Western Sahara after the 1991 ceasefire, though, more importantly, since the demise of the
original referendum effort in 2000 and the crumbling of the peace process since Baker’s 2004
departure. The third edition does a decent job of summarising the recent history of the conflict,
though it is not without problems. As noted above, the development of a second front in Western
Saharan nationalism – the Sahrawi Intifadah – does not get adequate treatment except for
some scattered mentions. This is surprising considering this development was at the centre of
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journalist Toby Shelley’s recent book Endgame in Western Sahara: What future for Africa’s last
colony?, a work that Pazzanita has included in his bibliography. Equally, the reviewer was sur-
prised to read, ‘Further meetings with King Hassan or with other high Moroccan officials never
materialised’ (p. 44) after a brief January 1989 meeting with Polisario. However, as we learned
from former UN mission head Jensen (cited in Pazzanita’s bibliography), there was clandestine
meetings between then crown Prince Mohammed and Interior Minister Driss Basri in mid-1996
(Jensen 2005, p.87–89). There is also no mention of President Bouteflika’s late 2001 proposal to
divide Western Sahara (considered by the Security Council in early 2002); Baker’s 2001 ‘draft
Framework agreement’ is the ‘so-called Framework Agreement Proposal’; and the dates of
William Swing’s appointment are confused with William Eagleton (p. 106, 403). The new
edition gives the reader the impression that Algeria and Polisario opposed Baker’s 2003
‘Peace Plan for the Self-Determination of the People of Western Sahara’ past the Security
Council’s 31 July 2003 resolution (p. 337). However, early on, Algeria responded positively
to the proposal and Polisario, never rejecting it outright, accepted it on 11 July 2003, well
ahead of the Security Council’s deliberations. Morocco’s formal rejection of the Peace Plan
did not come until April 2004, though Pazzanita claims ‘Morocco’s categorical rejection’
(p. 48) caused Polisario to accept it in mid-2003. Though Morocco’s visible discomfort with
the Peace Plan in mid-2003 certainly convinced Polisario that they should accept it, the actual
chronology and causal chain, here as elsewhere, is backwards.
In the lonely world of Western Saharan studies, any contribution of this scope is warmly
welcome. There is much to agree in Pazzanita’s sentiment that ‘the Western Saharan problem
not be consigned to obscurity’ (p. xiv). However, to fight this obscurity, it is imperative that
the small number of concerned scholars, activists and officials form a community where we
question each other’s work as much as we question the works handed to us by history.
Bodies of knowledge are formed and refined as much through original research as through criti-
cal revision. This new edition of the Historical dictionary of Western Sahara shows that Western
Saharan studies needs a great deal of both.
Jacob A. Mundy
University of Exeter
Email: [email protected]
# 2010 Jacob A. Mundy
DOI: 10.1080/13629380903424455
References
Heggory, A.A. and Crout, R.C., 1981. Historical Dictionary of Algeria. Metuchen, New Jersey: Scarecrow.
Hodges, T., 1983. Western Sahara: the roots of a desert war. Westport, Connecticut: Lawrence Hill.
Jensen, E., 2005. Western Sahara: anatomy of a stalemate. Boulder, Colorado: Lynne Rienner Publishers.
Shelley, T., 2004. Endgame in Western Sahara: what future for Africa’s last colony? New York: Zed.
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