In the East of Eden, where the political scene oscillates between comedy and tragedy, it is difficult to speak of a suspenseful election. On September 7, the patriarch of the balcony of the Muppets Show made in Algeria, the poorly elected president (78 years old and all his teeth against Morocco), is preparing to win a second term.
But, let us rest assured, in Algeria, we should not expect any surprises – everything is tied up, and with the finesse of a state puppeteer. Support from the political apparatus? Assured. Military support? Offered on a platter.
Opposite, two poor hares, Abdelaali Hassani, moderate Islamist (because yes, it sounds classier) and Youcef Aouchiche, spokesperson for the Socialist Forces Front, seem to be running a rigged marathon, while the other parties are marginalized, or even directly banned from the arena. To say that the suspense is dead is not a metaphor.
Savior in spite of himself
Although the election is without real stakes, the Algerian president, poorly elected a few years ago, is today trying to present himself as a national hero. His message is clear: without him, Algeria would have collapsed. So what happened before his glorious arrival?
A state in tatters, an economy in ruins, conspiracies galore and, of course, a Moroccan neighbor, the source of all evils, but who is never openly named. Faced with this chaotic environment, the senile man from Algiers positions himself, of course, as the only bulwark capable of holding the helm of the ship in the middle of a storm. Too bad his fellow citizens seem far from swallowing this pill.
Reality on the ground
While the two senile people next door are embroidering their fables against a backdrop of sabotage and conspiracies, the Algerians are juggling a completely different daily life. Between the high cost of living, omnipresent unemployment and a disillusioned youth who only dream of exile, the re-election of their dear leader is nothing but a sinister farce.
The Hirak, the popular protest movement that once gave Algeria hope, has now been reduced to nothing. Activists are being hunted down, the press is being gagged, and the slightest murmur of dissent is being stifled before it can even resonate.
So why bother with a real debate on the results of his first term? What’s the point anyway, when everything has already been locked down since Chenegriha’s arrival and even well before?
Gad Said, the eminence grise
And what would this play of a first term be without the divine intervention of a few shadowy figures? General Gad Said, a figure as central as he was discreet in the orchestration of the re-election of the favorite puppet of the Algiers capos, died of “sudden death” barely ten days after the triumph of his protégé.
Coincidence? Perhaps for the candid souls. For the others, apparently, the late general left the stage at the moment when his part became too risky to play. His disappearance left in its wake murmurs that have not finished haunting the backstage of the regime.
A president by default
The one who wants to be “my hero” did not just take power, he also rewrote history. According to him, Algeria, before his reign, was nothing but chaos and ruin. Forest fires “caused” by invisible enemies, various acts of sabotage… all this can only be the work of hostile forces. But what should we really remember from all this mess?
Nothing new under the sun: painting a picture of a country in tatters to give oneself the role of savior. The late Gad Said would doubtless have had his say on the veracity of these assertions, but the silence of the deceased always has this strange convenience.
State of lawlessness: the inevitable tragedy
In the meantime, Algerians are living a reality that is much more bitter than their president’s tales. Life is expensive, corruption is rife at all levels of the administration, and young people dream of somewhere else, far from this land of Algeria that has become stifling.
The Hirak, once a bearer of hope, is out of breath, while its leaders are either behind bars or forced into silence. And, while the senile man with the unpronounceable name repeats his role as the great defender of Algeria, his people must face the underhand repressions of a State that no longer tolerates any discordant voice.
This is the story of an election without stakes, orchestrated by the army, where the dice were loaded from the start. As for Gad Said, he is only the tragic symbol of a regime that sacrifices its own to maintain a semblance of stability.
Algeria, under the thumb of a future president assured of re-election, continues to falter. But for how much longer can this play be performed in front of an increasingly disillusioned public?
