The Battle of Algiers Page #18

ALI:

Here's another one ready. What a hideout!

It really looks like a wall. I'll dirty

it a bit, and it's perfect. Want to give

a look inside?

Kader has taken a machine gun from one of the basins, and he tosses it

to Ali, who catches it.

KADER:

No, go now. It's already late.

They go out on the terrace. Ali releases the catch of his machine gun

so that the bullet slips into the barrel.

KADER:

(to Ben M'Hidi)

They are a family of militants from way

back. Everything will work out well,

you'll see ... C'mon, Ali, hurry up.

BEN M'HIDI

Alright. See you tomorrow.

They say good-bye, embracing one another. Ali has already climbed over

the terrace wall, and has jumped to the next one.

Ben M'Hidi follows him; he is less agile and moves with a bit of

trouble.

From the parapet, Kader says to him:

KADER:

Passing along the terraces only takes

five minutes ... and with Ali la Pointe,

you'll be safe ...

While jumping, Ben M'Hidi loses his balance, and has to grab on to Ali

to prevent himself from falling.

BEN M'HIDI

But it's he who won't be safe with me ...

The two figures move away from terrace to terrace, and disappear in the

dark.

86CASBAH VIEWS AND TERRACES. OUTSIDE. NIGHT.

In the dark in front of them, a metallic reflection is visible and the

sharp and aggressive sound of an Algerian voice is heard.

Ali responds to the password.

A youth steps out from the shadows. He too is carrying a machine gun,

recognizes Ali, and greets him. Ali and Ben M'Hidi continue ...

87MAISON DES ARBRES, TERRACE. OUTSIDE. NIGHT.

Until they arrive at a terrace which is separated from the next one by

an alley about ten feet wide.

ALI:

Here it is ... we've arrived ...

Ben M'Hidi glances at the emptiness beneath them, looks at Ali, and

takes a deep breath.

BEN M'HIDI

Not yet ...

Ali has climbed onto the parapet, looks around him concentrating

attentively for a moment, and then jumps into the void, reaching the

opposite side. He bends, searches for something in the dark, and lifts

a type of gangplank.

He hands it over to Ben M'Hidi, and together they place it between the

two terraces.

ALI:

Be careful now. Unless you know how it

works, it's better if you sit on the plank

and move forward like this ...

BEN M'HIDI

Let's try ...

He tries to stand up on the gangplank, but he lacks the necessary

steadiness. He can't hold his balance. He does as Ali has advised him;

he sits astride on the plank, and using the force of his arms, he

pushes himself forward. He stops halfway to rest for a minute.

BEN M'HIDI

It's good nobody is following us ...

ALI:

It's a question of habit ...

And when Ben M'Hidi is closer, Ali helps him to get down to the terrace.

ALI:

It's better if I go first, to make sure

everything's okay ...

Without waiting for an answer, he moves toward the stairway that leads

to the floor below; his movements are silent and graceful.

Ben M'Hidi leans out from the terrace, and looks toward the European

city and the sea. At the port, two searchlights are lit, and their long

bright rays move slowly toward the Casbah ...

When Ali la Pointe returns, Ben M'Hidi is still leaning on the railing.

He seems not to hear the sound of Ali's footsteps, or his voice.

ALI:

Everything's okay ... They're waiting for

you ...

Ali moves near him, and Ben M'Hidi turns and looks at him.

BEN M'HIDI

What do you think of the strike, Ali?

ALI:

I think it'll be a success ...

BEN M'HIDI

Yes, I think so too ... It's been

organized well ... But what will the

French do?

Both the question, and the answer seem obvious to Ali.

ALI:

(shrugging)

It's clear. They'll do everything

possible to make it fail.

BEN M'HIDI

No, they'll do even more. We've given

them the opportunity to do a lot more ...

Do you understand what I mean? Starting

tomorrow, they won't be groping in the

dark any more; every shop and every

worker who strikes will be a known enemy,

a self-confessed criminal ... And they

will be able to pass to the offensive.

Have you thought of this?

Ali has listened attentively. The effort with which he is trying to ask

himself the meaning of these words is visible on his face.

ALI:

(shaking his head)

No ...

BEN M'HIDI

But Kader told me that you weren't in

favor of the strike.

ALI:

No, and neither were my men.

BEN M'HIDI

Why?

ALI:

Because they told us that we mustn't use

weapons, now, when the time is right.

BEN M'HIDI

That's true ... Wars aren't won with

terrorism, neither wars nor revolutions.

Terrorism is a beginning but afterward,

all the people must act ... This is the

reason for the strike, and its necessity:

to mobilize all Algerians, count them and

measure their strength ...

ALI:

To show them to the UN, right?

BEN M'HIDI

(smiling slightly)

Yes ... yes. The problem also involves the

UN. I don't know what it's worth, but this

way, we'll give the UN the possibility of

evaluating our strength.

Ali breathes deeply, instinctively, unrestrainedly, Ben M'Hidi watches

him, smiles, and says:

BEN M'HIDI

Do you know something Ali? Starting a

revolution is hard, and it's even harder

to continue it. Winning is hardest of all.

But only afterward, when we have won,

will the real hardships begin.

He pats Ali's back fondly with his hand and continues, smiling:

BEN M'HIDI

Anyway, there's still a lot to be done

... you aren't already tired, Ali, are

you?

Ali looks at him, and without reacting to his irony:

ALI:

(with conviction)

No!

88 VARIOUS HOUSES. CASBAH. OUTSIDE. DAWN. JANUARY 28, 1957.

It is gray and smoky dawn, a slow reabsorption of the night, an opaque

light which is diffused, sprayed, frozen, to transparency, and

rediscovers its outlines and perspectives; and finally, the sun, golden

light, awakens all Algiers. To the north, the sea. To the south, the

mountains and the Casbah, situated halfway along the coast. The Casbah,

still, inert, expectant, on this first day of the strike ...

The paratroopers are already at their places, one after another, at

equal distances like links of a very long chain, strung through every

alley, spreading to every sidestreet, twisting through the squares,

climbing up the stairways, dividing, joining, and lengthening again.

The silence is perfect; the camouflaged immobile forms seem to be part

of the landscape.

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