Introduction1
During his visit to Tunis in July 2015, former French president Nicolas Sarkozy told the Tunisians, in a context characterised by security tensions and highly charged with ‘anti-terrorism’ discourse, that Tunisians had not chosen their geographical proximity to Algeria and Libya. Sarkozy then ventured to add: ‘I think that Algeria, what will happen to it in the future, its development, and its situation are questions that need to be addressed within the framework of the Union for the Mediterranean’ (Boudet 2015).2
The arrogant and paternalistic tone of such a statement, uttered by one of the Western leaders who was instrumental in the imperialist intervention in Libya and therefore, in part, responsible for the country’s current state of chaos is a stark reminder of French colonial attitudes to the African continent. This statement sparked outrage in Algeria and was perceived as a provocation and an implicit threat by a figure emblematic of the political establishment of the former colonial power. Many Algerians interpreted these words as a statement of intent from a prominent French politician with ambitions to return to the Élysée in 2017, and an indication of what is in store for their country should he attain his objective. This interpretation is primarily based on the view that there has been a concerted effort by a coalition of domestic and international counter-revolutionary actors to undermine and reverse the inspiring uprisings that swept the region between 2010 and 2011.
The fact that the Iraqi scenario is not a distant memory and its efficient replication in Libya – as well as its current adaptation in Syria and to a certain extent Yemen – strongly suggest that the imperial designs of redrawing a ‘greater Middle East’ within a strategy of weakening nation-states in the region is well under way. In this sense, it is not paranoia on the part of the Algerians to think that this model can potentially be extended to other countries, including their own, in order to eradicate any resistance to full domination.
Given the destabilisation witnessed in North Africa and the ‘Sahel’, especially at a time when Algeria is undergoing an acute multi-dimensional crisis, it would be naïve to think that Algeria is somehow immune from this trend. Algeria has been experiencing a political crisis for decades – particularly after the military coup of 1992 and the ensuing atrocious war on civilians. The origins of this crisis date back to the colonial era, though its most recent manifestations are the direct result of the politics of a parasitic accumulation and entrenched corruption by a military-oligarchic nexus that denies the Algerian people their right to self-determination and dispenses with popular legitimacy for the benefit of domestic and international capital. This crisis is exacerbated by several factors, not least the absence of the country’s president, Abdelaziz Bouteflika, who has not been seen in public since May 2012 – a quagmire that has been further compounded by the recent intra-elite power struggles, which culminated in the fall of Algeria’s long-term kingmaker, the chief of the military intelligence agency (DRS), and the failure of the institutionalised opposition and social movements to articulate and carry out a viable alternative. The recent slump in oil prices may just hammer the final nail in the coffin of a rentier, non-productive and deindustrialised economy that is highly dependent on oil and gas exports, the main source of foreign currency.
This briefing will analyse the ways in which the Algerian regime has navigated this multi-dimensional crisis and the political economy of its survival in a turbulent regional and international geopolitical context characterised by uprisings in neighbouring countries and the reaction of status quo forces to this phenomenon. It will also attempt to shed light on Algeria’s relationship to and role in the so-called Arab spring.
A brief historical overview
Algeria’s post-independence historical trajectory is replete with examples demonstrating the ebb and flow of state sovereignty in changing regional and international contexts. In the 1960s and 1970s, the revolutionary capital acquired in the course of the anti-colonial struggle, coupled with the ascendancy of the Third Worldist and Arab Nationalist Movements, structured the nascent state’s course of action. The Algerian state’s activism on the international stage, including support for anti-colonial movements throughout the African continent and beyond, played a key role in consolidating Algeria’s leading role in the non-aligned movement, in which international norms such as sovereignty and self-determination were championed. Algeria’s Third Worldist international role was matched at home by such progressive domestic social policies as the nationalisation of hydrocarbons, redistribution of land, the initiation of an agrarian revolution and making universal the provision of health care and education.
The above policies were part and parcel of a developmentalist, state-capitalist project aimed at what Samir Amin (1990) refers to as ‘delinking’ the national economy from the global imperialist-capitalist system. However, this project was not immune from internal contradictions, in that ‘it reproduced … capitalism at the local level, partly in association with international capital,’ thereby reifying Algeria’s position ‘within the international division of labour’. This position was characterised by the country’s heavy dependence on hydrocarbon exports, which rendered it vulnerable to cyclical price fluctuations (Belalloufi 2012, 50; Rebah 2011, 44). Industrialisation constituted a major aspect of this development project, which was propelled by what Belalloufi refers to as a ‘dominant social bloc’ led by a nascent state bourgeoisie. It was the alliance between the army and the technocracy in their ambitious industrial development project that underpinned the hegemony of this class faction in the two decades following independence (El Kenz 2009, 179–180; Belalloufi 2012, 56–62).
By the mid 1980s, with the drop in oil prices and a changing regional and international context, Algeria’s nationalist development programme was deemed a failure by Algeria's new rulers, and its attempt at delinking from the global capitalist system was halted and replaced by a market economy. Similar to processes occurring elsewhere in the region, this new orientation entailed the deindustrialisation of the economy, the dismantlement and privatisation of public companies, deregulation and other forms of neoliberal restructuring. As a result, a concomitant reshuffling of alliances amongst the main components of the dominant social bloc took place, inaugurating the end of the military–technocracy alliance and its replacement with a military–private bourgeoisie nexus (Belalloufi 2012, 61–70) aided by a global context characterised by an ascending neoliberal doctrine.
The state’s disengagement from the provision of public goods and the failure (perceived or real) of ‘secular’ nationalism to deliver the promised prosperity and independence propelled Algeria’s Islamist movement into the political scene. Endowed with an allure by the Islamic revolution in Iran, the Islamist movement rose to prominence in the 1980s and had a significant base and following amongst the proletariat, the lumpenproletariat and the pauperised classes. The liberal economic orientation of the regime fuelled the existing demands for political liberalisation and the abandonment of the single party system following the October 1988 intifada.
The military coup that led to the cancellation of the elections of 1992 – which the Islamist party (Islamic Salvation Front) was set to win by a landslide – opened the doors of hell for Algerians. The violence unleashed on the civilian population was reminiscent of colonial times, and gave rise to an acute legitimacy crisis for the regime. To compensate, the latter sought to obtain external, especially Western, acceptance and acquiescence in exchange for the provision of access to the local market. Western geostrategic interests at the time, in the 1990s – including fear of another Iran in North Africa – secured tacit support for Algeria, even during some of the bloodiest years.
In the 1990s, the Algerian experience was one not only of horrific civil war but also of forced economic liberalisations dictated by the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank. It was Algeria’s turn to experiment with the ‘shock doctrine’ by introducing painful and extremely controversial policies (Klein 2008) – a course that entailed the break-up of state-owned companies, borrowing from the IMF and the initiation of the import-import bazaar economy (Hamouchene 2013), not to mention the subjugation of the Algerian people to harsh austerity measures and further surrender of national sovereignty.
Algeria was thus (re)opened to the world markets, facilitating a scramble for oil, gas and influence. With increased deregulation of the all-important energy sector, Western companies and governments, wooed by the regime, signed a series of lucrative contracts to secure a stake in the country’s precious resources. This process of relinking the national economy to international capital resulted in the compradorisation of the dominant social bloc by aligning its interest and subordinating national ones to those of international capital.
Such moves, paving the way to more ‘infitah’3 and outside control would have been anathema in the 1960s and 1970s, but by the mid 1990s, the Algerian regime, desperate for international credit, submitted to the World Bank and the IMF (Belalloufi 2012). In order to entice would-be investors, the government created a special exclusion zone around the oil and gas fields in the south. Thus, on 23 December 1995 British Petroleum (BP) finalised a contract worth US$3 billion, giving it the right to exploit gas deposits in In Salah in the Sahara for 30 years (Hamouchene et al. 2014). Total, the French oil and gas multinational, completed a similar deal worth US$1.5 billion one month later, and on 16 February 1996 the American firm Arco signed a contract for a joint venture to drill in Rhourd El-Baguel oilfield. In November 1996 the new Maghreb–Europe Gas Pipeline was opened, supplying natural gas to the EU through Spain and Portugal (Ibid.). These contracts undoubtedly bolstered the regime as it exerted systematic violence across the country and at a time of international isolation. Tied to Algeria through huge investments, these companies and the EU had a clear interest in ensuring that the repressive regime did not go under. The oil and gas revenues were used to finance heavy militarisation and the operations of the repressive police and intelligence apparatus. Yet, by the end of the 1990s, Algeria’s excesses led to its diplomatic isolation.
The Bush administration’s declaration of a ‘global war on terror’ following the attacks of 11 September 2001 on the World Trade Center provided a perfect opportunity for the Algerian regime to garner renewed Western (especially American) backing. In a letter entitled ‘A Friend in Algeria’ written by the Algerian president, Abdelaziz Bouteflika, for the Washington Times on 25 November 2002 (Bouteflika 2002), Bouteflika pledged full intelligence cooperation and energy security to the United States. This support helped in buying the acquiescence of the US and ensuring its backing for the regime. In return for their backing, Western governments and multinationals would receive unprecedented concessions. Economically, multi-billion contracts were handed out to Halliburton (Malti 2010, 326–327), Renault, SNC-Lavalin, Saipem, Alstom (El Watan, April 24, 2013) and General Electric, to name but a few. Politically, the price paid for this external support was the opening of the country’s airspace for France to attack Mali; unrestricted intelligence sharing; and the country keeping a low profile on causes considered just by a large part of the Algerian population, such as the decolonisation of Palestine, Iran’s nuclear programme and the invasion of Iraq (Rouabah 2015).
Over the two decades following the 1992 coup d’état, the Algerian regime’s reliance on external, as opposed to popular, legitimacy and support became the modus operandi. The decimation of genuine political opposition within the country, coupled with the repression and/or co-optation of trade unions and other such civil society actors, led to the closing of spaces for the expression of alternative political projects and a generally arid political scene.
Also worthy of note is the fact that by late 2010, the infighting and divisions within the Algerian regime that had been simmering for a decade were nearing boiling point. The split between the DRS and the pole represented by the presidency and command of armed forces alliance, which became more visible in 2008 when the DRS opposed the constitutional amendment allowing Bouteflika to run for a third term, came to a head with the public exposure of a series of corruption scandals. These were reflected in the DRS’s ‘anti-corruption’ campaign, involving a series of leaks related to corruption scandals within the national oil company Sonatrach, the economic backbone of the country and its main source of foreign currency. Such public displays of power struggles are symptomatic of the deep-seated contradictions and instability of the current dominant social bloc and the crisis of hegemony within it, which have opened up new spaces for resistance.
Algeria and the African and Arab uprisings: a counter-revolutionary role
The wave of uprisings that swept the Middle East and North Africa, dragging away a series of Western-backed tyrants, appeared to set in motion a domino effect throughout the region. After the deposing of Tunisia’s Ben Ali and Egypt’s Mubarak, it seemed that the list of toppled dictators was likely to grow. The speed with which the flames of revolt spread gave the impression that change might happen overnight, and regimes would fall one after the other like a house of cards. Algeria defied these predictions, and analysts have since advanced multiple explanations for the ‘Algerian exception’. Government discourse held that Algeria had already had its ‘spring’ over two decades earlier. In the words of Prime Minister Abdelmalek Sellal in April 2014: ‘They [the uprisings] do not concern us, we fixed the problem in 1988’ (Reuters, April 12, 2014). This was an implicit reference to the short-lived democratic transition following weeks of demonstrations in October 1988 that forced the regime to give way to political pluralism and an independent press. However, these gains in civil liberties and the ‘democratic transition’ were short-lived and were aborted by the military coup and the war on civilians of the 1990s. Sellal’s and similarly oriented analyses are correct that this period may help to partly explain the failure of an uprising to take root in Algeria during the 2010–2011 period. However, it was not because the state ‘fixed the problem’, but rather because the nation was traumatised. In addition to ongoing forms of repression, collective memories of hundreds of thousands of deaths and brutal state violence underpinning the eradication of the ‘Islamist’ opposition continue to serve as an obstacle to radical politics today.
The spectre of the civil war and the fear of bloody violence have been exacerbated by the intervention in Libya, the counter-revolution in Egypt, the carnage and foreign interference in Syria. Furthermore, the broad-based nature of the Algerian regime’s despotism is a feature that distinguishes it from other regional variants, characterised by the concentration of power and wealth in the hands of one person or family against whom all grievances could be focused. A diffuse dictatorship like that in Algeria is harder to dislodge than those that offer a clear target for popular resentment – Tunisia’s Ben Ali, for example. Moreover, the oligarchic coalitions and the complex clientelist networks around the regime have made it more fluid, and thus more resistant to change.
In addition, there is the political economy of Algerian dictatorship. Revenues from the high prices of oil and gas were used to purchase social peace domestically, and to secure international acquiescence. Domestically, the hydrocarbon bonanza was used to pacify the population and delay any radicalisation of popular anger. This was achieved through the extension of loans to small and medium enterprises (through ANSEJ, the Agence nationale de soutien à l'emploi des jeunes) and salary increases in multiple sectors, especially the ubiquitous security apparatuses ensuring swift containment of any uprising. By virtue of being the third largest provider of natural gas to the EU after Russia and Norway, and given the dwindling production in the North Sea and the Ukrainian crisis, Algeria hoped it could leverage this position to play an even more important role in securing the EU’s energy supplies and, by extension, Western collusion and approval. It is in this context that we should understand Algeria’s intentions to explore and exploit unconventional fossil fuels such as shale gas, regardless of the human and environmental costs.
Furthermore, the Algerian regime’s engagement in a ‘strategic dialogue’ with the United States and the almost unconditional support it lends the latter in its ‘war on terror’ helped to secure its geostrategic role and enhance its international legitimacy. Algeria’s participation in the US-dominated ‘security’ architecture in the region has four central features: (a) its leadership and active participation in regional security frameworks supported by the US (the Joint Operational Chiefs of Staff Committee, CEMOC, which is headquartered in Algeria and also includes Mali, Niger and Mauritania); (b) its ‘partnership’ with Africom, the United States Africa Command; (c) its membership of the US Trans-Sahara Counterterrorism Partnership, TSCTP; and (d) its strong support for the international coalition against Islamic State. All this is underpinned by a desire to play the role of regional policeman in exchange for (geo)political support. It is worth mentioning here that US military assistance to Algeria has increased eightfold in the decade between 2001 and 2011.
The uprisings that took place in neighbouring countries constituted a multi-dimensional existential threat to the Algerian regime. The precarious balance on which the regime rested was disturbed not only by the modalities of claim-making, but also by the content of the claims themselves, as well as by the political actors and forces in which these uprisings were grounded (Mullin 2015, 177–203). In other words, these uprisings posed a threat with material, as well as ideational dimensions. For two decades, the Algerian regime’s identity was carefully constructed as a leader in the fight against terrorism and a bulwark against a radical Islamist tide bent on ‘throwing the region back to the medieval age’. Thus, as far as the regime was concerned, these uprisings could not be allowed to succeed – and especially not with Islamist parties leading the transitions (in Tunisia, Egypt and Libya). This hostility and preparedness to employ all means necessary to achieve this goal is evident in the Algerian prime minister’s statement of March 2014, in which he quipped:
Some talk to us about the Arab spring. We don’t know where this mosquito is coming from. We closed all the doors to it but it persists and wants to get in through the window. But with the insecticide, we will exterminate it. We will use all the necessary products to stop it. (Algérie Focus, March 15, 2014)
Several high-ranking officials insisted on maintaining the fake stability of the country – i.e. the status quo – and used the card of the traumatic atrocities of the 1990s to dissuade the population from going down the same path as the Egyptians and Tunisians. As will be demonstrated in the next section, the Algerian regime played a largely reactionary role in the uprisings, and thus represents a counter-revolutionary force in the constellation of actors that are striving to crush the will of the people in the region.
Algeria’s regional role following the uprisings
The interests of global governance actors intersected in multiple ways with those of the Algerian regime and elements of the old regime in Tunisia in ensuring that changes were neither far-reaching nor revolutionary, and that a variant of the status quo was maintained. The Algerian involvement was key in ensuring the return of old regime figures to political life in Tunisia through its mediation between the Islamist party Ennahda, and the right-wing Nida’ Tounes, which comprises prominent figures from Bourguiba’s4 and Ben Ali’s eras, along with ‘leftists’ and former trade unionists: a mediation that resulted in a ‘national dialogue’ process in Tunisia, leading to the resignation of the democratically elected Troika government and its replacement with a ‘caretaker’ or ‘technocratic’ one. This process was qualified by many Tunisians as a soft coup, presented as an alternative to the Egyptian scenario (Teyeb 2014).
Furthermore, the Algerian regime extracted important concessions from the successive Tunisian governments in terms of adopting the Algerian – and by extension US – security outlook. A series of official visits and declarations have been made in support of a deepened cooperation in economic and security matters, laying the groundwork for the continuation of pre-uprising practices and ante-security priorities that dovetailed with those of the Algerian state.
When it comes to Libya, a closer look at the seemingly ambiguous position of the Algerian regime towards the 2011 intervention in the country reveals that it was in fact trying to adapt to a fast-changing situation in the region and was mainly preoccupied with its survival and stability. Algeria voted against a resolution endorsing a no-fly-zone adopted by the empty shell that is the Arab League. Instead, it declared that it was up to the United Nations Security Council (UNSC) to decide on such a matter, which it did through Resolution 1973, allowing for a NATO intervention in Libya.
Algeria did not oppose the intervention and did not even question its imperialist motives, resorting instead only to post facto vague criticism of the Western powers’ implementation and interpretation of UNSC Resolution 1973. Algeria’s reluctance regarding this intervention can be explained through its fear of the possible ramifications for the country’s border zones rather than principled opposition to foreign meddling in other countries’ internal affairs, as was its position during the heyday of Algerian Third Worldism. Furthermore, the sincerity of its half-hearted opposition has recently been brought into question by some reports claiming that Algeria in fact played a covert military role in Libya alongside the Western powers (Mandraud 2014).
Developments in Egypt, with the 2013 military coup and the ensuing bloody repression that targeted the Muslim Brotherhood, are reminiscent of what occurred in Algeria two decades earlier in 1992 (Yezza 2013). The Egyptian General Abdel Fattah el-Sisi was in all likelihood inspired by the Algerian scenario, and executed the coup in a similarly cynical and murderous fashion. The similarities do not stop here, but extend to the tightening of Egypt’s bilateral relations with Algeria, and the subsequent cooperation of the two states as brothers in crime. In fact, el-Sisi’s first state visit following the coup was to Algeria in June 2014, with the aim of discussing coordination on security and energy (Middle East Eye, 25 June 2014). Such a curious and surprising choice – given that relations between Algiers and Cairo had been icy since 2010 – signals the willingness of the Algerian regime to be complicit with Sisi’s criminal regime, and underlines Algeria’s counter-revolutionary tendencies. Moreover, in the same year, Algeria’s state-owned oil and gas company, Sonatrach, announced in early May 2014 that it would be sending six shipments of natural gas to Egypt, at a discounted price, to help the country tackle its energy crisis. Such actions from Algiers point to its open collusion with a repressive regime at the expense of the popular will of both Egyptians and Algerians. Furthermore, the Algerian regime reinforced the grip of international financial institutions (IFIs) such as the IMF by contributing US$5 billion to IMF lending through the purchase of Special Drawing Rights in October 2012, of which US$4.8 billion was earmarked for a loan to Egypt a month later, which was disbursed only after the coup. Algeria’s interaction with the IFIs during this period further demonstrated the coherence of the regime’s international and regional strategies.
In Mali, we see a similar pattern of coordination between Algeria and the West. In the days following the French intervention in Mali in January 2013, the Algerian people were subjected to the humiliation of receiving news from the French foreign minister that Algerian authorities had ‘unconditionally’ opened Algerian airspace to French planes and demanded that Algiers close its southern borders. Some journalists also reported that a US drone was allowed to monitor the hostage stand-off at the BP plant in In Amenas, in the south east of Algeria. It also came to light that the Algerian authorities were giving strategic and logistical support to the French operations in Mali by discreetly providing much-needed quantities of fuel to the French military (Guisnel 2013), which in the eyes of Algerians amounts to collusion with the French neo-colonial venture.
Similar to its stance on Libya and Mali, Algeria has adopted a timid diplomacy toward the Arab League, Turkey and Western states vis-à-vis the Syrian crisis. As these positions demonstrate, Algeria’s foreign policy no longer reflects the heavyweight and daring diplomacy of the 1960s and 70s. Its collaboration with French imperialism in Mali and its behaviour and actions in relation to the situation in Egypt and Tunisia only demonstrate the erosion of any semblance of the anti-imperialist and progressive line that was once adopted. Instead, it firmly places Algeria in the camp of reactionary and counter-revolutionary forces in the region. This is in accordance with the Algerian regime’s narrow survival policy that requires the reinforcement of the status quo and going by the dictates and decisions of the powerful, while manoeuvring within the framework of Western and US domination over the world.
The Algerian economy: the predominance of a comprador elite
We cannot fully appreciate the political situation in Algeria without scrutinising foreign influences and interferences and apprehending the economic question from the angle of natural resource grabs and energy (neo)colonialism. This includes the enormous concessions made to multinationals and the pressures coming from outside to execute further liberalisation in order to remove all restrictions to international capital and fully integrate Algeria into the global economy in a totally subordinate position.
A careful look at the Algerian economy over the last three decades (and especially under Bouteflika’s rule since 1999) will reveal that an anti-national, sterile and unproductive private bourgeoisie is gaining the upper hand in running state affairs and in directing its economic choices (Boubekri 2013, 469–481). This comprador/oligarchic elite has been selling off the economy to foreign capitals and multinationals in a systematic manner. In Fanon’s words (1967, 141), not only are they ‘incapable of great ideas and inventiveness’, they also do ‘not even succeed in extracting spectacular concessions from the West, such as investments which would be of value for the country’s economy’. This bourgeoisie is subordinated to the international system of economic, political, and military domination, and therefore represents the true agent of imperialism and its useful accessory. The financial law of 2016 epitomises this tendency as it plans further liberalisations and privatisations while undermining the 51:49% ownership rules (being at the lowest end of energy nationalism), which forces foreign companies to engage in minority share joint ventures with the country’s state-owned companies, while at the same time punishing the pauperised and the working classes through the imposition of harsh austerity measures. Moreover, the constitutional reforms approved in February 2016 bear the seal of this subordinate business class, as their influence reached a point where several amendments were openly in their favour, thus codifying the regime's strategic choice of unbridled capitalist domination that will trump any attempt to defend economic sovereignty (Saoudi 2016).
With the oil prices plummeting and with foreign currency reserves (estimated at US$179 billion at the end of 2014) deemed not to last beyond 2016–2017 (Blas 2015), the experience of 1988 could easily be replicated, and the crisis has the potential to escalate into a full explosion that will threaten the country’s national security and possibly its territorial integrity.
Diaspora-based and local modalities of resistance
Notwithstanding this dismal state of affairs and the absence of a sufficiently strong opposition with a broad enough base, Algerians have not been passive victims and have shown defiance and resistance to oppression in a variety of ways on numerous occasions. The decimation of genuine oppositional politics during the 1990s left a dangerous void in the Algerian political scene. In the 15 years that followed the 1992 coup d’état, trade unionists, civil society activists and political figures that had challenged the regime’s stronghold over Algerian society had been dealt with through a variety of divide et impera tactics. These tactics ranged from repression, imprisonment and co-optation (especially domestically), to forced exile, harassment and attempts at extradition for those in the diaspora.
In the 2000s, various individuals and groups of opponents in the Algerian diaspora have organised around broad platforms of ‘democratic change’ in Algeria. Most notable amongst these is the Rachad movement, founded in 2007 by a group of Algerian exiles representing various political traditions in Algerian society (Islamists, leftists, Arab nationalists and liberals). The movement’s non-violent strategy was to later be adopted by various activists, campaigns and the contestation movement in the country (Ghettas 2015). The Rachad movement’s work with academics and intellectuals, as well as its founding members’ international media appearances and the establishment of its own TV channel, have had a considerable impact, influencing discourses on civilian–military relations, as well as the types of change to be sought, among both Algerian youth and disaffected segments of the political class (Ibid.).
Similarly, the Algeria Solidarity Campaign (ASC) movement established in 2011 in London, which assembles Algerian students, academics and professionals, has contributed to the construction of spaces, primarily within the UK, for the Algerian diaspora to raise awareness, debate alternatives and construct new political subjectivities. Through a variety of campaigns, debates, conferences, film screenings and other cultural activities, considerable headway has been achieved by the ASC in linking up Algerians in the diaspora and engaging them in matters of collective/national interest.
At the domestic level, Algeria did in fact witness widespread public discontent in early 2011, around the same time as the Tunisian uprising. Although not at the centre of the international media spotlight, the country in 2010 and 2011 saw an unprecedented number of demonstrations, strikes, occupations of public buildings, sit-ins and clashes with the police. In 2010 alone, the authorities recorded 11,500 ‘riots’, public demonstrations and gatherings across the country.
The Algerian workers have also shown determination to fight and, thanks to some independent trade unions, the last few years have witnessed massive strikes in the public sector (and to a lesser extent in the private sector), including teachers and educational staff, university lecturers, doctors, paramedics and public functionaries. Workers from the steel, trucking, construction and electronics industries have fiercely opposed the neoliberal policies promoted by the government and implemented by some multinationals (Algeria-Watch 2015). However, these autonomous trade unions have been struggling to shift the balance of power in their favour as they continuously face repression, judicial harassment and attempts at co-optation by the authorities.
With the bankruptcy of party politics, growing dissent and discontent in the last four years have been increasingly expressed through the emergence of social movements organising around social and environmental issues, particularly in the oil- and gas-rich Sahara. The unemployed movement CNDDC (National Committee for the Defence of the Rights of the Unemployed) that started in Ouargla in 2013 (85 km from Hassi Messaoud, one of the wealth poles of the country and the first energy town in Algeria housing the headquarters and bases of all the big oil and gas companies) have succeeded in mobilising tens of thousands of people in large demonstrations demanding decent jobs and protesting against economic exclusion, social injustice and the underdevelopment of their region. The unemployed of Ouargla rightly wondered why they have not benefited from the oil wealth that is lying under their feet, and questioned the reasons for their continued political and economic exclusion and marginalisation while multinationals thrive and plunder their resources. As expected, all attempts have been made by the authorities to crush, discredit and co-opt the movement, but with little success, as it continues its struggle (it organised a protest on 31 December 2015 to denounce the anti-national financial law of 2016). The movement has played an important role in bringing an anti-imperialist dimension to the anti-fracking uprising that started in January 2015, following the Algerian authorities’ announcement at the end of December 2014 that drilling would begin in the first pilot shale gas well in In Salah in the Ahnet Basin by a consortium of three companies, Sonatrach, Total and Partex.
In reaction to this announcement, Algerians have been protesting in their tens of thousands for more than four months since the start of 2015, across the country (In Salah, Tamenrasset, Ouargla, Ghardaia, Illizi, Adrar, Timimoun, Bordj Baji Mokhtar, Algiers, Ain Beida, Oum El Bouaghi, Bejaia and Oran). They have voiced their opposition to the exploitation of shale gas in In Salah, an oasis town in the heart of the Sahara desert in Algeria and home of the largest dry gas joint venture projects in the country (BP, Statoil and Sonatrach). The scale of public opposition took the government by surprise, and threatens future plans to frack by multinationals including Total and Shell. These significant mobilisations in southern Algeria also reflect a deeper discontent at the ongoing exclusion of the Algerian people from government decision-making, and demonstrate once again the long-standing socio-economic marginalisation of the inhabitants of the oil- and gas-rich Sahara, a region that provides the bulk of Algeria’s resources and income.
Despite their significance, these social movements struggle to maintain momentum in the face of a repressive machine and insidious regime propaganda (these movements are often labelled as stooges of ‘foreign hands’ bent on destabilising the country), and tend to find themselves isolated and lacking support from other political and social actors, including trade unions. The movement, as with other sectorial initiatives, has so far failed to transform itself into a national mobilising force capable of bringing together progressive forces around the country in a way that could pose a serious challenge to the regime and even propose a coherent alternative or road map for a democratic transition. There exists an urgent need for an authentic democratic opposition that is able to crystallise all these grievances and transform them into a coherent oppositional discourse to take forward the legitimate demands of the people.
Conclusion
Having sought external support for continuing its disregard for the people’s will at home has weakened the Algerian state to a degree never seen before. There is a double-edged weakness emanating from the lack of popular legitimacy at home, and an external thirst for concessions that will remain eternally unquenched. These dynamics can give birth either to a genuine political will to change in line with popular ambitions or to further submission to imperial diktats, greater isolation, deeper feebleness and eventually uncontrollable collapse. Nicolas Sarkozy’s statement, referred to in the introduction, suggests that the latter scenario is preferred by many and that bets are being placed to that effect.
The temporary respite from the tremors that have rocked the region over the last four years is just that: temporary. Change is a historical necessity that is simply inescapable. More than 50 years after independence, Algerians continue their struggle to realise the goals of their glorious revolution to rid themselves of the shackles of (neo)colonialism and to put an end to tyranny and injustice. It is time to rethink the multi-dimensional crisis the country is undergoing, to interrogate its history and global-domestic dimensions, as well as to endeavour not only to interpret the causes of these injustices, but rather to transform them too. As transformative knowledge and ideas are born of experience and praxis, it is pivotal to link up to other movements worldwide and engage in building global broad-based movements capable of dismantling unjust systems wherever they may be and supporting audacious, anti-imperialist and anti-capitalist forces that truly represent the will of the downtrodden, and to strive to build an equitable, multi-polar world order.