collaborators of Paris and Berlin. We are not against the European Federation, our goal is auto-determination, but as an equal partner. We are against these men who seek to destroy our youth, our future, with the continuity of the evil heritage of the FLN.”
Ennis sipped his coffee and listened carefully.
“You are a journalist visiting our country, I would like to inform the world of our objectives and tell them of the corrupt charade which calls itself the government of Algharb.
We are against the barbarism practised by the so-called Caliphate in Cairo and Algiers, the amputation of thieves, men exposed in cages in the market places, public executions. The image that is propagated by the press of the Islamic world and more particularly the Arab world, unfortunately reflect the laws of Allah interpreted by men uniquely interested by their personal hold on power and wealth.”
“And you Sheik Abassami, what is your personal interest?”
His eyes flashed anger for an instant then he continued.
“Myself, I have no personal interest, only that of my people who have experienced shame, poverty and hopelessness for generations, led by weak men and exploited by the West, presented to the world as underdeveloped, we who invented mathematics, science and the glory of Andalusia, we who gave the world the greatest religion of tolerance offered to man by Allah.”
“And the Jews?”
“The Jews and the Copts lived by our sides for centuries, as did the Christians, in cosmopolitan Damascus, Baghdad and Cairo. Remember it was the Europeans who murdered the Jews. Our disputes with the Jews concern the rights to the land and holy places that the Arab peoples and their ancestors occupied since the beginning of history.”
He lifted his hands in a sign of peace.
“Let us speak about today.”
“That’s fine with me.”
“Ask your questions.”
Ennis reflected during a few instants.
“What are your intentions towards Europe and your close neighbours?”
“We have no particular demands towards France, however we would like them to cease their support and aid to the criminals who govern and who are destroying our country.”
“That will be difficult, the problem of Paris is the return of foreign populations back to their homelands.”
“We are prepared to help them. We will accept any persons rejected by Paris because of their race or origins. The tradition of the Vel d'Hiv is unfortunately well rooted in Paris,” said the Sheik in reference to the surrender of Jews to the Nazis in WWII.
“What about the Kurds?”
“I make no apologies for Iraq or for the Turks, we are against all forms of oppression, our only wish is dialogue.”
“Are you for taking power by force.”
“As I said we prefer dialogue, but you know as well as I do that the use of force for good is not the same thing as aggression or oppression.”
“I have heard people speak of Sheik Abdelbaki Sahraoui, the leader of the fundamentalist movement. Is it true that he is held in the prison of Tarascon?”
“It is true, a sincere man, but he wanted to seize power by declaring a jihad and using his moudjahidins. The torturer Ibrani had no intention of letting him leave into exile as in the past, to foment revolt from abroad. The moudjahidins are too weak today with little support from outside.”
The discussion had lasted nearly two hours when one of the guards made a sign to the Sheik who immediately stood up.
The Sheik saw Algharb as a sanctuary, his principal target was the Caliphate and too engage in subversive activities in Algharb would deprive him of the refuge.
“Mister Ennis I regret that I must leave you now, I believe that you are a sincere man and you can transmit our message to the world. If you permit we shall stay in contact, discretely as they say.”
He took Ennis by the hand and then left. A few seconds later a guard returned with a young woman who guided Ennis back to the street.
“My name is Asma, I’ll accompany you to your hotel as though we were friends.”
“I prefer to find my own way.”
“Non, it’s better, it is necessary to protect the Sheik in case of danger. I know the signs.”
“Okay, I have a bike.”
“That’s no problem, we’ll walk.”
“Our leader is a good man and sincere, he has many followers in our country.”
She guided Ennis by a route that passed around the old quarter towards the Grande Mosque, then the Old Port where she pointed him towards his hotel.
“Here you are Mister Ennis, if ever you have a problem during your visit in Algharb and have need of our help just ask for me, Asma, speak to the hotel concierge, he is one of ours.”
“Thank you and good luck.”
“Inshallah.”
Ennis slowly pedalled the last few hundred metres around the port to the hotel. His meeting with the opposition had been unexpected and surprising, he had not had the slightest inkling that such an organised movement existed and that its ideas were so radical compared to the religious line of the Caliphate or the old fashioned dictatorship of Hassan bin Ibrani. The political situation in the country was more complex than he had been led to believe.
He knew that an opposition had existed. In Algiers he had read in the newspaper Asharq Al Awsat that certain sympathisers of the underground opposition had been imprisoned in Algharb. But the traditional Islamist opposition had rejected Assad Arabiya as infidels. That had been the first time he had learnt of the existence Sheik Abassidi's movement, but he had known nothing of their political ideas.
Ennis now realised that an opposition existed, and that they together with Hassan bin Ibrani’s regime observed with trepidation all developments in Paris, fearing the intervention of France and the consequences it would have for their future.
Hassan bin Ibrani
The next morning his guide arrived early accompanied by a person he presented as Mahmoud Cherif, a high level official responsible for internal security in Algharb.
“Mister Ennis, we have been accorded a great honour, a very great honour!” announced Cherif enthusiastically. “Our President Hassan bin Ibrani will receive you at eleven. An interview! Let us be quick, there are many formalities to be completed concerning the security controls.”
Ennis was pleased, since the beginning of his trip he had only been received on one occasion by a head of state, by the Grand Imam of Tunis.
The party in power in Algharb, the Partie National du Salut, was modelled on the lines of the FLN of Algeria and was the tool of Hassan bin Ibrani, a paternalistic style dictator, but behind the public bonhomie was a dictator with a paranoid complex, produced from the same mould as the long list of such leaders who had ruled the Islamic world since the creation of the Arab states at the end of World War I.
Ibrani was the grandson of a ‘pied-noir’ who had been born in Rabat, Morocco, and who had held a high position in the Ministry of Mines, controlling one of the richest phosphate industries in the world. His father by deft manoeuvres had remained in Morocco after independence, acquiring Moroccan citizenship, arabising his name and with a nominal conversion to Islam, he succeeded in remaining as a loyal adviser a confident to the King.
His son married a girl from a high-ranking family and later became a director of Office Cherifien des Phosphates. They had three children, the youngest of whom was Hassan.
When the stability in Morocco had become doubtful, Ibrani's father had dispatched his family to the safety France under the guise of long holidays, higher education needs and medical care, a long tradition in the Arab world. The sudden rise of the Islamist movement and the young King’s attempts to hold the reins of power by reinforcing his role as the kingdom's rightful spiritual leader, as he was in theory, resulted in a violent struggle between the monarchists and the Islamists for power.
The young Ibrani successfully studied engineering and political science in France, where his father through his political friends had found him a go
od situation in the Ministry of Industry and the Environment.
When Ibrani saw that the sick president’s power and influence were slowly was slipping away, he with a small group of less than one hundred persons, generals of the paramilitary forces, heads of the police services and other key persons, prepared their take over. Even before the old president was declared dead, they had effectively seized control of all the levers of power in Algharb, pushing aside all institutional procedures.
Hassan bin Ibrani had continued to exercise his authority as President of the Executive Council without the least visible protestation ever since his arrival to power nine years previously. His rise to power from a relatively little known, though senior officer in a semi-government organisation was by a series of chance events, like many dictators before him.
He had been the head of the financially and politically powerful Regional Water and Environmental Authority for Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur before the events that changed everything for him and the country. His life had been uneventful, laid out before him until retirement in comfortable privilege, exactly like that of many high level public servants.
He had however dedicated a great part of his time to cultivating political relations and privileging the influential pied-noirs population of the region. He was the President of several influential associations and as a life long sporting enthusiast was on the board of directors of the Racing Club de Marseille, one of the country’s leading football teams. In his private life his