Benjamin Stora Recalls Memories Of His Family’s Escape From Algeria

The black feet (Pieds Noir) of the Europeans and Jews who lived in Algeria during the French occupation refuse to forget the bliss they enjoyed, as well as the pain and suffering of leaving after Algeria’s independence, because of their disappointed positions on the issue of the Algerian people, and therefore they did not stop documenting the moments of the “great escape” after 1962.

Among those who effortlessly continued to chronicle the feelings of leaving the country in which they grew up, and did not provide them with an excuse to continue living in it, is the family of the famous French historian, Benjamin Stora, who has published and continues to publish many books on the subject, the latest of which is his new book “Access”, a book in which Stora evokes moments of transition from one homeland to another in a dramatic scene.

Benjamin Stora was not an adult at the time, he was twelve years old, and therefore he is not responsible for the suffering he experienced, but the question that arises here is why did his family decide to leave? Thousands of Europeans and Jews maintained their presence in Algeria without any problem, and many of them died in Algeria and were buried there, including famous people.

The majority of Europeans and Jews who decided to leave Algeria after its independence were those who took part in the war on the side of the occupying army against the Algerians, the true owners of the country, who were oppressed by a small immigrant group that monopolized wealth and influence and monopolized power under the pretext of subjugation and oppression.

Stora recalls the memories of fleeing Algeria and moving to his new home in France, saying in an interview with the daily “West France”: “I remember my parents’ sadness at the airport. I was almost 12 years old and my sister was a little older. Each of us was carrying two bags and we were all dressed warmly. Despite the bright sun. For more than a year, I heard my parents whispering to each other, very worried: Should we leave? Should we stay? That day we left for Paris. We were going to a big city that I had heard so much about, that was perfect, I even liked it. “That. And I never thought for a moment that we would never come

The journalist asks Stora: “Did you not go out of the house in the last few months”? He answers: “Since the fall of 1961 I was locked in the house. There was violence everywhere. We heard explosions, but we did not know where they came from. Classes were suspended. There were soldiers and guards everywhere. For me, this departure meant “leaving”. To a country at peace, without war”.

As for the feeling of departure for the adults, “it was pain and silence. On the plane, no one dared to speak. The violence of the situation stifled conversation,” says the historian. As for the image that remained in his mind, it was “the City of Lights, on the ring road between Orly and Montreuil, everything was dark, nothing shone. The next day you wake up in a different country. In silence, you do not know anyone, but you can “go out and walk as you like. It’s a very strange feeling.

“Yes, that’s how I felt. In Constantine,” says Stora, “I lived in the Muslim ghetto, where the narrow streets are crowded. In Paris, everything is spacious, cinemas and cafes are everywhere. It’s a new country.” .

As for the Stora family, it suffered on all levels in its first years in France, as the father faced problems of unemployment and the harsh cold in winter, as he said, while “my mother suffered from great sadness”. And Stora admits that he suffered from racism in the country of freedoms and rights, he says: “I have a rare first name at that time: Benjamin. I was asked in high school: “Benjamin is Jewish, right?” And I answered: “Not at all, because I didn’t want to be discriminated against,” and so he was afraid to show his Blackfoot accent.