The Battle of Algiers Page #17

78VARIOUS VIEWS EUROPEAN CITY. OUTSIDE/INSIDE. DAY.

In the European city the Algerian workers: at the docks, the central

gas company; on the trams; the waiters in the restaurants, in the bars;

the shoeshine men

SPEAKER:

"Algerian brothers! A great hope has

arisen for us. The world is watching us.

The next few days may be decisive for our

future and our freedom. The colonial

powers will attempt to demonstrate to the

UN that the NFL does not represent the

will of our people. Our response will be

unanimous support of the general strike."

79SEA-FRONT. OUTSIDE. DAY.

At the sea-front, there is a newspaper boy, about twelve years old,

barefoot. His voice is shrill yet cheerful. He is smiling.

NEWSBOY:

Le Monde! Le Monde! General strike! ...

Strike!

Some Europeans buy the newspaper, half-heartedly, grumbling

disagreeably. The boy remains cheerful, places the change inside the

bag strapped to his shoulder, thanks them.

Now he passes in front of a beggar, an elderly Algerian who is leaning

against a railing.

The boy winks at him, while he continues to shout:

NEWSBOY:

Strike!

SPEAKER:

"During the eight days of the strike, do

not frequent the European city, or leave

the Casbah. Provide lodgings in your

homes for the poor, the beggars, the

brothers who do not have homes. Store

provisions of food and water for eight

days!"

80CASBAH STREETS AND SHOPS. INSIDE/OUTSIDE. DAY.

There is a strange atmosphere in the Casbah. People are greeting each

other in the streets; a thick buzz of voices, a festive mood, a sense

of brotherhood, and the children, who are taking advantage of the

situation and play and run everywhere.

The shops are unusually crowded. The people enter and exit, loaded with

supplies. In the shops too, there is the same festive mood, almost as

if the supplies were for a trip to the country. The shopkeepers are

also cheerful.

And the poor customers, instead of paying, hand over a ticket stamped

NLF.

81CASBAH BLOCKADE. OUTSIDE. DAY. SUNSET. SUNDAY. JANUARY 27, 1957.

Late afternoon, at the blockades of rue de la Lyre, rue du Divan, and

rue Marengo. The Casbah exit ramps are deserted, while the entrance

ramps are overflowing with people. Here too, there is an intangible air

of gaiety, witty remarks, laughter, ironic glances toward the soldiers

and policemen with cold faces, immobile -- helmets and machine guns --

who stand at the entrances without intervening.

The image is shortened and focused through the lenses of binoculars.

82GOVERNMENT PALACE. OUTSIDE/INSIDE. SUNSET.

A paratrooper officer looks at the blockades of rue du Divan from a

Government Palace balcony. Mathieu is beside him.

MATHIEU:

No one is leaving, eh?

The officer hands him the binoculars.

OFFICER:

No. They continue to enter, the rats.

Mathieu looks through the binoculars, and comments in a low voice,

smiling:

MATHIEU:

Rats in a trap, we hope ...

OFFICER:

But do you believe that the strike will

be widespread?

MATHIEU:

Without a doubt.

Behind the two officers, through a large open window, a room is

visible. There is a large table, and around it, other high officers of

the various armed forces, and some important officials in plainclothes.

A general, who has his back to the balcony, turns and calls Mathieu:

GENERAL:

Mathieu! Mathieu, a name ...

MATHIEU:

A name?

GENERAL:

Yes, a name for the operation.

Mathieu moves the binoculars from the blockades and turns slowly around

the Government square, until he reaches an advertising sign for a brand

of champagne which now, in the dusk, lights up with a sporadic rhythm:

CORDON ... ROUGE.

Mathieu pauses then turns toward the room, and enters smiling:

MATHIEU:

Champagne ... All right?

The general repeats absent-mindedly:

GENERAL:

Champagne ... Champagne.

(then, in a convinced voice)

Operation Champagne, yes, alright.

83 RUE DU DIVAN BLOCKADE. OUTSIDE. EVENING.

At the rue du Divan blockade, there is an incoherent, monotonous, and

irritating chant. There is a blind beggar. He is light-complexioned,

tall and thin, his beard long, his arms stretched out, a cane in his

hand. He arrives at last at the entrance ramp, tries to find the way,

but cannot. He tries again and again with his cane, continually

repeating his sorrowful chant, until a policeman takes him by his free

hand, placing the hand roughly on the metal screen.

POLICEMAN:

Go on! Go on!

The beggar protests and waves his cane in a way that the policeman has

to duck to prevent himself from being hit. The policeman curses,

spitefully, coarsely.

A soldier starts to laugh. The old man takes up his chant again, and

moves forward leaning on the metal screen. On the other side of the

blockade, behind the square, there is a group of veiled girls who have

seen the old man, and seem to be waiting for him.

Two of them go to meet him, and each one takes one of his arms. At the

touch of their hands, the old man is again infuriated. Even the girls

laugh. Then, one of them speaks to him slowly in a loud voice.

It seems that the old man has understood. He is convinced. He mumbles

something kindly and lets them accompany him.

84CASBAH ALLEY. FRONT DOOR. OUTSIDE. NIGHT.

A poorly lit alley. A group of unemployed men and beggars are standing

in front of a door.

One of the three companions consults a list, then points to two in the

group. He signals them to enter.

85KADER'S HOUSE. INSIDE. NIGHT.

Inner courtyard.

In the inner courtyard, there is an elderly man who awaits them and

receives them kindly.

They greet each other in the customary Algerian manner.

Courtyard and balcony.

On the terrace also, someone is looking toward the courtyard. Kader is

on the terrace together with a man about forty years old, dressed in

European clothes, he has narrow shoulders and a sunken chest. His face

is sensitive, his forehead high, and his hair and eyes black. His eyes

are kind and thoughtful and twinkle with irony.

He is Ben M'Hidi, one of the four members of the CCE, the Central

Executive Committee.

KADER:

(to him)

They are beggars and unemployed, homeless.

We have organized things in such a way

that during the strike they will be

guests of other families who have homes

and will provide shelter in the event of

possible reprisals ... But I didn't know

that they would be brought to this house

too. It is a mistake.

BEN M'HIDI

Why?

KADER:

Because you are here too. It would be

better for you to move to another house.

Ben M'Hidi moves away from the parapet.

BEN M'HIDI

All right ... You're the one who must

decide.

Kader follows him along the terrace.

KADER:

No, if I were the one to decide, you

wouldn't be in Algiers now.

Ben M'Hidi looks at him, smiling.

BEN M'HIDI

Why? Isn't it wise?

Kader smiles too, and repeats:

KADER:

It isn't wise.

At the end of the terrace, there is a construction raised to a level

with the stairs that lead to the floor below. There is a large room;

through the open door, the lighted interior is visible. The walls have

high brick baseboards, and at the bottom of one of the four walls there

is a square opening that leads into a hiding place. The closure of the

hiding place, a square of very thick wall, is placed to one side. Ali

la Pointe is covering it with bricks.

On the other side of the room next to the door, there are some cement

wash-basins, and a shed for rain water. Kader appears at the door.

KADER:

Ali, you must accompany Ben M'Hidi to the

Maison des Arbres.

Ali doesn't answer immediately. He finishes placing the last brick then

turns to Kader.

ALI:

Why? Isn't he sleeping here?

KADER:

No, it's better if he doesn't. The house

is filled with new people.

Ali gets up, wipes his hands on his trousers, at the same time

inspecting the work that he has just completed.

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