The Battle of Algiers Page #20

A burst of machine-gun fire, then another.

The Algerian jerks forward, his back curved, his arms raised.

He falls down.

99COMMISSIONER'S OFFICE. PRESS ROOM AND STAIRWAY. INSIDE. DAY.

Noise, confusion in the Commissioner's office press room, ticking of

the teletype machines, throngs of journalists in the telephone room.

They are trying to transmit the first news.

VARIED VOICES.

Shouting in every language is heard.

A JOURNALIST:

We are now in the fourth day and the

strike continues, with total support by

the Arab population. The city is very

calm. However -- Calm ... Are you deaf?

The city is peaceful. In the Moslem

quarters, in the outskirts of the city,

in the Casbah ... Bye, will call again,

I'm busy.

Through the open door, Mathieu can be seen passing, accompanied by

another officer. Some journalists see him, and rush behind him. Some

others follow, four or five in all, trying to stop him.

JOURNALISTS:

Colonel, colonel ... Excuse me, colonel,

a statement ... We don't know anything ...

You promised us a press conference ...

Now there is a meeting with the

Commissioner.

FIRST JOURNALIST

Will you tell us what is happening?

MATHIEU:

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. We are still

weighing the situation.

They move to the landing and begin to ascend the stairway that leads to

the second floor. The journalists have difficulty keeping up with

Mathieu.

MATHIEU:

Look around. I've put everything at your

disposal. Go take a look with your own

eyes.

2ND JOURNALIST

The strike is a success; but ...

MATHIEU:

No. It has failed in its objective.

1ST JOURNALIST

Insurrection?

MATHIEU:

Insurrection.

2ND JOURNALIST

But the NLF has always spoken of a strike

as a demonstration ...

MATHIEU:

And you believe the NLF?

2ND JOURNALIST

They seemed to be plausible this time. A

general strike is a good argument for the

UN.

MATHIEU:

The UN is far away, dear sir. It is easier

to make oneself heard with bombs. If I

were in their place, I would use bombs.

1ST JOURNALIST

Armed insurrection ... but what is it

exactly?

OFFICER:

It is an armed insurrection ...

They have arrived at the second-floor landing, hurry along, and stop in

front of a large door, where there is a written sign: PREFECT. Mathieu,

at the same time, has continued speaking.

MATHIEU:

It is an inevitable stage in revolutionary

war; from terrorism, one passes to

insurrection ... as from open guerrilla

warfare one passes to real war, the latter

being the determining factor ...

3RD JOURNALIST

Dien Bien Phu?

MATHIEU:

Exactly.

Mathieu glances at the journalist, as if to see if there were any irony

in his remark, but the journalist's face is expressionless.

MATHIEU:

In Indochina, they won.

3RD JOURNALIST

And here?

MATHIEU:

It depends on you.

4TH JOURNALIST

On us? You aren't thinking of drafting us

by any chance, are you, colonel?

Mathieu leans his hand on the door handle and smiles at the

journalists.

MATHIEU:

No! We have enough fighters. You have

only to write, and well, if possible.

1ST JOURNALIST

What's the problem then?

MATHIEU:

Political support. Sometimes it's there,

sometimes not ... sometimes, it's not

enough. What were they saying in Paris

yesterday?

5TH JOURNALIST

Nothing ... Sartre has written another

article ...

Mathieu gestures and makes an expression as if to say: "see what I

mean?" At the same time, he opens the door. But before entering, he

turns again to the journalists.

MATHIEU:

Will you kindly explain to me why all the

Sartres are always born on the other side?

5TH JOURNALIST

Then you like Sartre, colonel ...

MATHIEU:

Not really, but he's even less appealing

as an enemy.

100PLACE DU GOUVERNEMENT AND RUE DU DIVAN BLOCKADE. OUTSIDE. SUNSET.

Place du Gouvernement, dusk, the other side of the blockade is silent,

only the uncovered eyes of the Algerian women who await their men.

The trucks continue to arrive: the men are forced to descend and

allowed to enter the Casbah. There is an atmosphere of sadness, for not

all the men have returned. The women look at them, scrutinize their

faces, from the first to the last in one glance, then slowly ... one

face at a time. Some women recognize their husbands, or their brothers

or their sons, and run to meet them ...

But others continue to ask for news in lowered, sorrowful voices.

AD-LIB VOICES

Have you seen Mohamed? Where? When? Why

hasn't he returned?

A steady hum of voices in Arabic; then the monotonous voice of a

policeman who speaks in the microphone of the loudspeaker.

LOUDSPEAKER:

"The NLF wants to stop you from working.

The NLF forces you to close your shops,

inhabitants of the Casbah, disobey their

orders. France has given you civilization

and prosperity:
schools, streets,

hospitals. People of the Casbah! Show your

love for your mother country by disobeying

the terrorists' orders."

The loudspeaker is attached to one of the blockade posts, and from it a

long wire for the microphone is hanging. The policeman has a raspy and

bored voice; he stops speaking and leans the microphone on the table in

front of him. He gets up, lights a cigarette, and moves away a few

steps.

Two children are among the women and behind the wooden horses

barricades. They were waiting for this moment.

They bend, seem to be playing, but one of them lifts the barbed wire

as high as he can, from the ground. Petit Omar passes a wire

underneath, its farthest end bent in the form of a hook. He moves it

toward the microphone cord which is lying coiled on the ground. He

succeeds in clasping it and pulls it toward him slowly. The cord

unwinds, lengthens, stretches, until the microphone on the table begins

to move, until it reaches the edge of the table, and falls ...

The noise re-echoes in the loudspeaker, but no one pays any attention

to it.

Petit Omar waits a second, then begins to pull again.

The microphone is dragged along the ground -- a humming sound -- it

moves nearer, inch by inch, forward, under the barbed wire, until the

children are able to take it, and disappear with it behind the women.

LOUDSPEAKER:

"Algerians! Brothers! Do not be afraid!

Algeria will be free. Be courageous,

brothers! Resist! Do not listen to what

they are telling you ... Algeria will be

free ..."

The voice is not violent, but gentle, somewhat breathless and hurried.

It extends to the whole square, so that all can hear it well: the

people stop what they are doing to listen. They are emotional, proud,

or angry, and look toward the sky where the voice seems to be diffused,

as if those words should be written up above.

The officer is slow to realize what has happened, looks at the

loudspeaker, the cord, and now grabs it, cursing. He pulls and tugs it;

the wire yields, and he wrenches it from the microphone.

LOUDSPEAKER:

"Brothers--"

The voice is no longer heard, nothing more, silence.

Silence, only that something is changed in the women's eyes. The veils

that cover the lower half of their faces suddenly begin to tremble,

sway as if shaken by a breath, a light wind. There is no longer an

atmosphere of sadness, or silence.

JU-JU.

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