CHAPTER TEN

An Uneasy Peace

KING LOUIS-PHILIPPE RATIFIED THE TREATY and the minister of war sent an aide to Oran to congratulate the general. Raison d’état had prevailed.

“We need peace to establish a solid base on our territory. We need time to familiarize the Arabs with our customs and our way of doing business in order to really make something of our colonization effort,” Bugeaud explained to skeptical members of parliament. “After five or six years of peace, if war breaks out again, we will be in a much stronger position than we are today.” The Chamber of Deputies, reflecting the feelings of the general population, had received news of the treaty’s terms with indignation.

Many of Bugeaud’s military colleagues shared the popular view. The treaty was a sellout. Governor-general Damremont, his rival in Algiers whom he had finessed out of the negotiation, spoke for many in uniform when he wrote Molé disavowing the agreement. “It makes the emir more powerful than he could ever have achieved by a victory on the battlefield, and places us in a precarious position confined within disadvantageous boundaries. It is not honorable because our claim to sovereignty rests on nothing and we have sold out our allies…” Old Mustafa Ben Ismail also understood the treaty’s implications. “Now, I have nothing more to do than go to Mecca and do penance at the Kaaba for having trusted in France,” he announced bitterly to officers in Oran.

The Tafna Treaty was Desmichels replayed, dividing supporters and opponents along similar lines — bow to reality and buy time, or stand on assertions of national honor without the resources to back them up. Bugeaud knew that France was preparing another campaign to take Constantine in order to consolidate its control of the east. This required peace in the western provinces dominated by Abd el-Kader. The treaty simply granted the emir what he already possessed in reality.

The army needed revamping, as well — its equipment, tactics and recruits. This, too, required time. Bugeaud had seen the ineffectiveness of slow, plodding European style warfare against a fluid power, one he described as having “no fixed location and whose vitality was in all the members of its organization.”

The emir had reason to be pleased. The Tafna Treaty had effectively made him master of two-thirds of Algeria. Bugeaud had agreed to withdraw from Tlemcen, where Clauzel had established an inland base. The emir’s de facto authority extended from Morocco to the Kadara River east of Algiers, blocking the army’s ability to communicate overland with its eastern outposts at Bougie, Stora and Bone. The emir could freely engage in trade, so long as it was conducted through the ports controlled by France: Oran, Arzew, Mazagran and Mostaganem. Abd el-Kader could buy arms, gunpowder and war materiel from France, or elsewhere. He also agreed not to cede any ports to foreign powers without the agreement of France.

The touchy question of French sovereignty was finessed, thanks to adroit variations in the French and Arab versions. For France, only the French translation was considered the authoritative text, and for the Arabs, the Arab text was authoritative. Abd el-Kader had put his seal only to the Arab version.

The all-important Article 1 stated in the French version that the emir “recognized the sovereignty of France.” The Arab version read that the emir “recognized that the Sultan was great,” not even specifying who was the sultan. “Sovereignty” in the European sense was a difficult word to translate into Arabic. Ben Duran, who surely understood its meaning, knew that acknowledging French sovereignty was unacceptable to the emir. Bugeaud’s Syrian translator knew too little French to appreciate the different nuances. With the help of Ben Duran’s influence on the emir, the symbolism of submission, represented by the requirement of annual tribute to the French sultan, had been reduced to a one time “gift” of 30,000 measures of wheat and barley, and the delivery of 5,000 head of cattle. To Bugeaud’s critics, France’s position was no different than under Desmichels. Her occupation was limited to the same coastal towns and their buffer zones. Only now, the emir’s position among the Arabs appeared vastly stronger.

The treaty called for an exchange of consuls to smooth over problems and misunderstandings that would inevitably arise during its implementation. Bugeaud, an avowed monarchist, wanted his own man as “royal commissioner” to the emir’s court in Mascara. Without consulting General Damremont, his nominal superior in Algiers, he selected for this important post a battalion commander, Colonel Menonville. Menonville was a veteran of past campaigns who had distinguished himself by his spirit of rectitude and conciliation, qualities Bugeaud thought would be desirable for the representative of a Christian power at an Arab court.

However, Menonville would only accept the assignment if his friend, Dr. Warnier, was his second. Warnier was a medical doctor who knew the countryside and the people well. He spoke Arabic and had many friends among the Arabs he had treated. He was also known to be a prudent, solid character knowledgeable of the mores and prejudices of the Arabs. By Warnier’s later account, this first diplomatic mission to the emir under the Tafna Treaty was mined with duplicity, dishonor and suspicion on the French side that made for an embarrassing diplomatic debut.

Bowing to a minimum of politesse towards the governor-general, Bugeaud agreed to add to his delegation an interpreter recommended by Damremont, a certain Zaccar, a Syrian who had once wanted to be a priest. He was known to be cunning, overtly ambitious and servile at the same time. The head of the Arab Bureau had recommended him to act as the governor-general’s eyes and ears.

The emir’s representatives had arrived in Oran and Mostaganem as agreed in the treaty, but Menonville had still not left for Mascara. He was waiting for the “specific instructions” from Bugeaud that his general orders from Paris indicated he should receive before leaving for his new post. Warnier, impatient over their continued delay, finally told Menonville he would depart early the next morning. Bugeaud then told Menonville he would give him his specific orders the day of Warnier’s departure. Warnier left early, agreeing to rendezvous later.

When Menonville finally caught up with him, Warnier noticed a change in his commander’s demeanor. He seemed somber and depressed. Asked about the instructions, Menonville said only that he would talk about them later. Warnier assumed they were of a delicate nature and Menonville did not want to be overheard by their escorts. As they approached Mascara, they sent a rider ahead to announce the arrival of the king’s royal commissioner. No one came out to receive the delegation. When they entered Mascara, no caid or notable welcomed them. The town was deserted. The delegation’s arrival had been delayed so long, the emir had left the city, but without giving the local authorities any instructions.

Thus, the king’s own men spent their first night at the emir’s court in a barn that had been converted into an ammunition depot whose only other occupants were large rats. The next day was hardly better. They were transferred to a house near the emir’s place, which was to be their consulate. However, it lacked European-style windows, chimneys, armoires and other conveniences, requiring Menonville to request military engineers from Oran to remodel their new home.

Menonville’s mood continued to get worse. When pressed by Warnier, he would mumble some words of regret at having accepted the position. One day, Menonville exploded, blurting out to Warnier the dark secret that had so depressed him. Bugeaud had made additional agreements, secret ones, that Menonville found dishonorable for a French general. And he was to be an instrument of their execution.

Bugeaud had consented in writing to send into exile Mustafa Ben Ismail and other chieftains of the Smelas and Douairs the emir considered as troublemakers who would try to undermine the peace. There was also agreement that the emir would be supplied with rifles and gunpowder. For these goodwill gestures, the emir would give the general a gift of 100,000 francs. To the upright, good soldier Menonville, Bugeaud had shamefully sold out their brave allies to appease a vengeful emir. And the arms that Bugeaud was also willing to supply the emir, Menonville believed, would surely be used one day against French soldiers.

Three times, Menonville wrote Bugeaud asking to be relieved of his assignment. Three times Bugeuad denied his request. The worsening mental state of Menonville was aggravated by the irritating presence of the Syrian interpreter. It soon became apparent to Menonville that Zaccar was acting as a spy for his bosses in Algiers and did not consider himself in any way under his authority. Menonville began to nurse a deep dislike for Zaccar who hardly attempted to mask his true role, one that became overt the day he refused to sign a register acknowledging as his copies of an Arab translation he made of a letter to the emir written by Menonville. The only conceivable reason for not doing so would be that he had altered the original French content.

The alchemy of Menonville’s silent hatred of Zaccar and the humiliating falseness he felt about his own position, led to his mental unraveling. Curiously, this happened as a result of Dr.Warnier’s efforts to minister to Abd el-Kader’s infant son, Abdallah.

Warnier knew the risks when the emir’s wife sent an emissary begging for his immediate help. Yet, he left unhesitatingly, cantering the nine miles across the Plain of Ghriss to her family encampment in Cacherou where he found a two-year-old boy suffering from severe peritonitis.

The doctor’s position was delicate. If he saved the boy’s life, he would be a hero and give a boost to French prestige. If the boy died, he ran the risk of being accused of medical skullduggery. To avoid the latter, Warnier took precautions. He used only externally applied substances that had been provided by the family members themselves. Abd el-Kader’s majordomo and family members were invited to witness his ministrations. The next day, Abdallah was no longer at death’s door. Three days later, the boy was up and about. Everyone congratulated Warnier for his success. But no sooner had he returned to Mascara, than another messenger arrived with bad news. The convalescent had a relapse.

Again, Warnier galloped back to the family tent, armed with an enema bag flung over his shoulder. He learned that Kheira had violated one of his most important proscriptions. She had allowed Abdallah to eat an apple, a fruit that was uncommon in the desert, but much desired by the Arabs. Warnier told her what he needed to do to prevent his death. She refused. The Arabs considered an enema a form of medical sodomy. Kheira was afraid Abdallah would be mocked for receiving such a treatment once word got out beyond the tent. Twelve hours, later she changed her mind. It was too late. Warnier took it upon himself to tell the young mother the terrible news.

“God has taken your son.”

“God wanted him. May His will be done.” Kheira took his hand and kissed it affectionately. She thanked him for all his care and effort.

The next day, Warnier and Menonville attended the burial ceremony along with several thousand Arabs. No traces of illwill were shown toward the Frenchmen. The gratitude shown the doctor by the emir’s family was enough to reassure the other Arabs of the commendable behavior of the French tabib, as the Arabs called Warnier.

Nevertheless, Zaccar used the episode to needle Menonville. He took a perverse delight in irritating Menonville with jibes, saying the Arabs would believe the boy had been poisoned by the doctor, though plainly this was not the case, and that there would be a violent massacre of the French delegation. The already emotionally overwrought Menonville persuaded himself that Zaccar was plotting with Arabs to deliver them his head and that the consulate would at any moment be invaded by a bloodthirsty horde. Menonville was soon carrying two loaded pistols with him at all times. Warnier tried vainly to calm his superior who, he believed, might easily shoot the first Arab to enter the building. Fearing an incident, and not wanting the outside world to know of the pitiful state of his commander, Warnier would not allow anyone to enter or leave the building. As for Zaccar, Menonville treated him as a prisoner and kept him in his sight at all times.

At dinner one evening, a heated argument broke out between Zaccar and Menonville. The commander attacked the interpreter with a knife. Warnier attempted to intervene but could not calm down his chief, realizing he had truly become a madman capable of shooting anyone who got in his way. Menonville was convinced Zaccar was going to give the Arabs a secret signal to attack that night. He ordered Zaccar to lie on the floor and ordered the servants, Warnier as well, to sit against the walls of the dining room. He then sat down in the middle of the room next to Zaccar armed with his pistols, ready for the imminent assault.

Sometime after midnight, Warnier heard two explosions. He looked up and saw his commander lying on top of Zaccar. Both lay motionless, covered in blood. From the positions of their bodies, locked in a grotesque, inverted death hug, Warnier concluded that Menonville had knelt in front of the supine interpreter and placed the barrel of one pistol on Zaccar’s eye and the other on his own forehead and pulled the triggers simultaneously.

The Arab authorities would not believe that this was the act of a demented French officer, unaware that he had become unhinged by a devious interpreter and his sense of shame over the dishonorable orders he had received from Bugeaud. Their first thought was that this double murder had been the work of dissident Arabs who were against the peace and had created an incident to stir up hostilities. The local caid was terrified that the emir would hold him responsible for allowing this crime to take place and that his own head might fall. Thousands of Hachem cavalry arrived outside the walls of the city as the news of the assassination spread.

Rumors were flying. The French would arrive within twenty-four hours and destroy the town in retaliation and the Hachem had come to protect the inhabitants of Mascara. Others believed they had come to massacre the population for allowing the crime to occur. Calmer heads were saying the emir wanted peace, and if the emir wanted to re-ignite hostilities, this was not how he would have done it.

Warnier defused the situation by getting the Arabs to examine carefully the room where the deaths had occurred and to look at every tiny piece of evidence. He finally convinced them that their initial conclusion was a mistake.

Bugeaud’s secret terms leaked out, as had Desmichels’. The general had agreed to deport a dozen of the Douair and Smela caids and aghas hostile to peace. He had also agreed to allow the emir to purchase 3,000 military rifles as well as iron and sulfur for gunpowder. The emir would, in turn, make a gift to Bugeaud of 180,000 francs or 100,000 boud-joux. Like Desmichels, the general later denied any such agreement.

The emir had insisted the Smelas and Douairs be relocated further west, beyond the Rio Saldo, away from Oran. He gave Bugeaud the names of ten chiefs he wanted deported. When Bugeaud proposed to the minister of war to remove troublemakers hostile to the treaty, he added that certain of them, including the old man, Mustafa Ben Ismail, had expressed a desire to go to Mecca. “I told them that was possible and the government might pay them a nice pension to stay there.” In fact, Bugeaud had already tried in vain to get Ben Ismail to go to Mecca for the good of his soul, but the old makhzen was not that concerned about his soul.

Bugeaud argued that Ben Ismail was a demanding and rapacious intriguer who thought only of his own interests. He kept for himself one-third of the money France paid his troops, protected thieves and assassins and could not be trusted, Bugeaud told the minister. (The same reasons the emir never appointed Ben Ismail to a high position in his government.) The war minister required that any such “removal” be at their request, that it be in writing and be publicly known. There could be no indication that such actions were in response to demands of the emir.

This condition alone would have made it impossible for Bugeaud to carry out the secret agreement. Then he learned that Mustafa Ben Ismail was going to be named brigade commander for native troops by King Louis-Philippe. This not only made the old makhzen the first Algerian general in the history of the French army, but also untouchable. Indignation was rampant in the army when word spread of Bugeaud’s secret agreements. “France has climbed a bit too low in consenting to treat with a miserable little marabout…Bugeaud has been woefully befooled,” wrote an officer for the local army newspaper, Le Moniteur. Bugeaud instructed Warnier to destroy his letters to the emir in which he agreed to relocate the tribes and to deport certain of the chiefs. His attempt to get the Douair and Smela chiefs to take a holy vacation to Mecca failed abysmally.

As for the money from the emir, when the scandal later became public, Bugeaud forthrightly explained that the money was not for him. Eighty thousand was going to be distributed to some of his officers and one hundred thousand was for repairing roads in his district in the Dordogne. Before a military tribunal that investigated the scandal, he admitted with his customary candor, “I declare to all my officers that I committed an act unworthy of a member of the nobility and the dignity of my command.”

When the minister asked Bugeaud to explain why he hadn’t been informed of these supplementary demands, the general replied in his offhand way. “There are things which I haven’t told you because it would require volumes. I have smoothed over many difficulties which I have not bothered you with, and finally, because one can’t and shouldn’t talk about everything.” Furthermore, Bugeaud explained, the gunpowder and lead that he agreed to supply the emir were things that could be purchased through Morocco, and even in peacetime the Arabs use huge amounts of gunpowder. “Besides the powder consumed for hunting, there is hardly a celebration, a reception of a chief, a marriage or other event when they don’t burn a lot of powder,” he added.

At Bugeaud’s request, Warnier told the emir that the gift of 180,000 francs could be forgotten. What Menonville had not known was that the Ministry of War had made liberal use of money to lubricate the peace process.

Negotiations had bogged down in early May as a result of Abd el-Kader’s stubbornness. He insisted on maintaining the prerogatives of the Desmichels Treaty, but also demanded the French abandonment of Tlemcen and Rachgoun Island, while politely offering to bear the cost of moving all the garrisons’ baggage to Oran. An exasperated Bugeaud was ready to use force, yet he realized his supply capabilities were inadequate and his men not ready for campaigning in the summer heat. His one clear requirement was to get a treaty signed so French forces would have a free hand to besiege Constantine again in the fall.

The useful Ben Duran had been authorized by the war ministry to dispense up to 300,000 francs, as “gifts” to help bridge gaps between the French and the Arabs. Of that, 100 thousand francs had been promised Miloud Ben Arrach, the emir’s foreign minister and 60,000 for the emir’s influential majordomo, Haj el-Jilali. These men and others around the emir may well have tipped the balance in favor of the treaty when it was discussed on May 27, at a gathering of influential tribal leaders and marabouts from all over the province held by the banks of Habra River.

There were important leaders strongly opposing peace with France — genuine fanatics who opposed any compromise with the invader; those who thought the emir was becoming too ambitious; others who preferred their independence to the discipline of the emir’s authority, but would use the argument of faith to support their opposition. Abd el-Kader wanted the decision on the treaty terms to be seen as a national one, even if justified on religious grounds. The argument for peace ultimately hung on a distinction: a peace imposed by the enemy and a peace that was solicited by the enemy. Nowhere does the Koran recommend the useless shedding of blood. If the infidel is willing to sheath his saber and accept terms dictated by Muslims, then peace is acceptable. And the emir, his supporters argued, had dictated terms accepted by the enemy.

Once the treaty was signed, the war ministry opened another account to pay “gratuities” to several individuals in the emir’s court who had helped turn the negotiations around. One hundred and twenty thousand francs were authorized for Menonville to distribute — half to Ben Duran for his role as interlocuter to the Arabs and the rest to selected Arab chieftains who had argued for peace. But Menonville, suffering from acute paranoia, killed himself before he could carry out this assignment.

Ben Duran was less interested in money than in security for his family and his status. For his services, he asked the ministry for an annual pension of 5000 francs in the name of his children, and for himself, he wanted French nationality and the Legion of Honor. Bugeaud wrote to the war minister that Ben Duran “had worked zealously for peace,” and a reward was justified. Yet, Bugeaud did not approve of giving him French citizenship. “It would be a mistake to give cunning and intriguing Jews French citizenship which they would then use to fleece us.”

Bugeaud also wanted something: to return to France in time for the parliamentary elections scheduled for November fourth. He would be coming home triumphantly as the man who brought peace for his overtaxed constituents uninterested in glory. His job was done, he wrote the ministry. The minister of war thought differently. General Bernard told Bugeaud that he could return to France after three conditions were satisfied: when Constantine was retaken, the emir paid tribute to France and the matter of the eastern boundaries was settled.

In early October 1837, four months after Tafna, General Damremont besieged Constantine — this time successfully. France’s honor was restored, but victory cost the governor-general his life. The emir did make a partial delivery of cattle to Oran, which he interpreted as a “gift” and the French as “tribute,” but the third condition was not mentioned when, in November, Bugeaud reiterated to the minister that he was not needed anymore. In December, the minister authorized Bugeaud’s return to his estates in the Dordogne.

A new governor-general had been appointed to wrestle with the poisonous ambiguity of the Tafna Treaty. An artillerist of renown, Marshal Sylvain-Charles Valée was the opposite of the independent-minded Bugeaud. Cold, dignified and of solid character, he was considered controllable even if his personality left something to be desired. “Silent as a tomb, mulish as a Breton, capricious as a pretty woman, as attractive as a prison door and as polite as a bear,” a junior officer described him years later. Like the Comte d’Erlon after the Desmichels treaty, his instructions were to sort out the boundary issues in France’s favor without re-igniting war with the emir.

In reality, peace was more harmful to the emir than war, an irony most of the imperialists obsessed with lines on the map and formal declarations of submission overlooked. This simple truth was missed by all but the most astute Frenchmen. A prolonged peace would have resulted in the internal collapse of the emir’s so-called empire had the French not succumbed to their own amour propre, for there was a deeper truth at work than that reflected in the flimsy pieces of paper to which France attached so much significance.

This contradiction soon became clear to Warnier and the observant Captain Daumas, the new consul in Mascara. In reality, Abd el-Kader’s nation-in-the-making was no more than a fragile federation held together by personal charisma, his wise use of fear and forgiveness to punish and motivate, and Muslims’ inherent respect for religious law.

Yet, the law was also the emir’s problem. His title was Commander of the Faithful. But if he was now an ally and friend of France, what legitimacy did he have to coerce tribes to pay onerous taxes? And how could he be flexible with the French if the law forbade Muslims to live under non-Muslim rule unless by consent? And how could he allow tribes to choose French protection without his goal of unification disintegrating like a house of sand? Such questions were at the heart of the Habra debates over ratification of the treaty.

Internal divisions among the tribes would eat away at the emir’s power in peace more quickly and at a much lower cost to France than by trying to break the emir by force of arms, which only strengthened his cause. Warnier passed these observations on to his new commander in Algiers and to his friends in Paris. But, to fight by not fighting was neither in the DNA of the military, nor conducive to career advancement. Not surprisingly, this wise counsel from France’s representatives in Mascara was ignored by the ministry, yet its accuracy was demonstrated the following year.