The Celebration of Oppression

To be Algerian-French means learning about your history through the voice of the colonizer. And it is more often than not immensely glorified.

This is a realization I had when I dug a bit deeper than merely just French history books, specifically on the figure of Marcel Bigeard. A man whose statue has stood proudly in Toul, a city in the North-East of France, ever since it was inaugurated on the 24th October 2024.

Marcel Bigeard, who died in 2010, was a French army officer who rose from a modest background to become one of France’s most infamous paratrooper commanders. Most of Bigeard’s adulation within the French army comes from his part in the French Resistance in 1944. After that, he actively took part in two major colonial wars: the First Indochina War and later the Algerian War. During the latter, he became one of the central military figures in France’s attempt to suppress the independence movement. His role consisted of dismantling the Algerian nationalist resistance network in Algiers, placing him at the heart of a counterinsurgency strategy built on coercion, brutal surveillance and fear.

During these operations, he became a symbol of systemic torture, arbitrary arrests, enforced disappearances and the execution of prisoners without trial. Though “trial” itself was a hollow concept under the French colonial rule in Algeria. Indeed, for instance, registered ground forces files count 1 415 convicted et 198 executions, from the 1st January 1955 to the 15th of September 1961, SHAT, 1H 1097/6. (Professor Thénault). This adds to 198 official executions in only 6 years. Whereas in France, as a matter of comparison, 61 convicted were sentenced to death from 1950 to 1977. 

Still, one of the most inhumane and plainly cruel practices linked to Bigeard during this period was what came to be known as “death flights.”. This form of extrajudicial killing was used during the Battle of Algiers by the occupying French army to effectively get rid of troublesome dissidents. Whatever one may think of when thinking of the term “death flights”, the reality of what it actually was is probably worse. From a helicopter off the coast of Algiers, with their feet encased in a basin of cement, untrialed independentist detainees were thrown into the void to crash in the Mediterranean. Then, the bodies, most of the time poorly weighted due to insufficient cementation of the feet, would not sink properly and end up washing up on the beaches of the bay surrounding the capital. 

The many victims of these operations would later be called by the French les crevettes Bigeard, the shrimps of Bigeard.

Until the end, Bigeard refuted the reports ordering torture or executions, often stating he opposed such methods, while qualifying them of  a “necessary evil.” The military man seemingly disliked the term “torture” and prefferd using words like “rough interrogations”, a statement he made in a interview not long before his death.  Yet, numerous testimonies from victims as well as former soldiers describe the torture as routine and organized, not accidental. Some French historians agree that these practices were structural, embedded in the system, rather than the result of a few “bad actors.”: “In conclusion, if there is one area in which the armed forces in general – and Marcel Bigeard in particular – have no lessons to learn from politicians and their cronies, it is certainly that of morality.” said Colonel (h) Christian Châtillon in an open letter to Bigeard. 

Indeed, as a commanding officer Bigeard operated within, and most importantly managed a machinery where brutality was the norm, and even the rule. And yet, despite all this, his legacy remains deeply divided. 

In parts of France like Toul, he is still celebrated as a war hero for his “bravery” and “brilliance” in his missions in Indochina and Algeria, remembered as a symbol of discipline and resilience. Everything he profited from after that, from the 25 military commendations like the Legion of Honor Great Cross to serving as Secretary of State for Defense under President Giscard d’Estaing, is a direct reward for his “exploits” abroad. Then in 2011, after Bigeard’s death, previous president Sarkozy’s government advocated for his ashes to be placed at “Les Invalides”. Today, many streets bear his name and political figures continue to praise his military career.

To some politicians, survivors, descendants, he represents something entirely different. Not resilience but impunity. His name is tied not to glory but to trauma, abuse and a violence that has never truly been acknowledged, let alone repaired.

The cleaving discourse that resurfaces every time he is publicly honored is not accidental. It is the result of a history that remains unresolved. France has long struggled to fully confront the reality of the Algerian War, and most of its victims have never received justice or even recognition. In that context, celebrating figures like Bigeard is not neutral, it is an assumed continuation of denial.Because to call him simply a “hero” is not just incomplete, it is an absolute distortion. It turns violence into valor and the oppression he proudly perpetuated into legacy. About 3000 dead, and 1000 missing, what a dignified way to be remembered by.  

Denouncing Bigeard is denouncing one of the several forms of political instrumentalization of history orchestrated by the French government. Figures like him serve in furthering its aim of reconstructing a nationalist mythology and greatly appeals to those who are nostalgic for French Algeria, a group whose presence and ideology seems to remain significant today. 

No statue, no speech, no selective memory can separate him from that reality. His “legacy” is not just a matter of history, it is a matter of truth. And for the children of those who suffered at the hands of men like him, that truth remains a battle yet to be won.

Photo source: wikimedia commons edited with use of public domain vector