Lorsque la mère de Benjamin Stora est décédée il y a quelques années, il a découvert, au fond du tiroir de sa table de nuit, les clés de leur appartement de Constantine, quitté en 1962. Ces clés retrouvées ont ouvert les portes de sa mémoire. Souvenirs de guerre : quand, en août 1955, des soldats installent une mitrailleuse dans la chambre du petit Stora pour tirer sur des Algériens qui s'enfuient, il a quatre ans et demi et ne comprend pas. Souvenirs heureux : la douceur du hammam au milieu des femmes, les départs à la plage en été, le cinéma du quartier où passaient les westerns américains, la saveur des plats et le bonheur des fêtes... Entre l'arabe de la mère et le français du père, la blonde institutrice et les rabbins de l'école talmudique, la clameur des rues juives et la modernité du quartier européen, se lisent les relations entre les différentes communautés, proches et séparées. Benjamin Stora a écrit là son livre le plus intime. À travers le regard d'un enfant devenu historien, il restitue avec émotion un monde perdu, celui des juifs d'Algérie, fous de la République et épris d'Orient.
Benjamin Stora, né le 2 décembre 1950 à Constantine en Algérie1,2, est un historien français, professeur à l'université Paris-XIII et inspecteur général de l'Éducation nationale depuis septembre 2013. Ses recherches portent sur l'histoire de l'Algérie et notamment la guerre d'Algérie3,4,5, et plus largement sur l'histoire du Maghreb contemporain, ainsi que sur l'empire colonial français et l'immigration en France. Il assure la présidence du conseil d'orientation de la Cité nationale de l'histoire de l'immigration depuis août 2014.
Charming, potted memoir of a Jewish childhood in French Algeria, from the French Algeria history supremo.
It ends in 1962 (with the rest of French Algeria), but takes us back to memories of paternal and maternal grandparents and beyond. Both families had been in Algeria for many, many centuries and were highly 'integrated' if apart, speaking, cooking and dressing more as Easterners than Westerners - and often only speaking Arabic.
The emergence of Algerian nationalism and the independence war eventually saw Algerian Jews belatedly gravitate towards Frenchness - a drift of assimilation that had actually begun generations before with the move from being 'rural Jews' to 'city Jews'. The assassination of a succession of rabbis and of Raymond Leyris (a bit like assassinating a Jewish Elvis) would have played a major role there too.
Meanwhile, we see the 'other' / 'neither/nor' status of Constantine's Jews - who tended to live in a different part of town to the 'Francais de souche' and had relatively little to do with them beyond school and occasional shopping. That they were guarded about aligning too closely with what became the 'Pieds Noirs' is completely understandable, given the latter's fondness for Petain and the Jewish loss of citizenship during that era.
The point to take away is: Jews were there for hundreds of years. That they left is yet another loss to put on the shelf next to the Pieds Noirs, European Jewry, the Prussians, the Anatolian Greeks and the Palestinians. Such was the 20th century - and most centuries.
A very quick read, good for those who want a quick aperçu into to the life of a Jewish community in colonial Algeria in the years 1955-1962. But Stora is much more at ease as an historian than as a memoirist. Though the book is ostensibly about his childhood, one learns very little about his family, his relationships with his relatives or schoolmates, his hopes, desires and fears. In the end the reader is left to intuit why Stora became a leading historian of colonial Algeria. Another problem is that the book appears to have been cobbled together from various shorter pieces and is marred by many repetitions.