Introduction

In August 2024, Kamel Daoud, a Franco-Algerian writer, published Houris, a novel delving into the Algerian Civil War. In November 2024, it won Le Prix Goncourt, the most prestigious French literature award, as it unveils the silenced horrors of Algeria’s Black Decade.[1] Yet, the book has not been published in Algeria, as the Algerian government prosecutes any text discussing this period. The Black Decade, from 1992 to 2002, disrupted Algerian civil society, as the population sought to overthrow the authoritarian party, the Front de Libération Nationale (FLN). Throughout the war, the regime enforced multiple policies attempting to maintain order and achieve peace. Under the cover of transitional justice, it has imposed mechanisms aimed at re-establishing its control, forsaking accountability and victim assistance. This paper asks how Algeria’s post-war “reconciliation” policies, which resemble transitional justice procedurally but negate its central objectives, have functioned as a strategy of authoritarian consolidation. This paper will provide a contextualisation of the conflict, drawing on the influence of the Independence War of 1954-1962, before delving into the Civil War’s complexities of actors, motivations, and origin. An overview of the transitional justice mechanisms put in place during and after the conflict will be given. These mechanisms will be analysed through memory control, restorative and retributive theories, understanding their role in asserting the FLN’s institutional continuity rather than genuine transitional justice.

Transitional justice, as defined by former UN Secretary General Kofi Annan, is “the full range of processes and mechanisms associated with a society’s attempts to come to terms with a legacy of large-scale past abuses, in order to ensure accountability, serve justice and achieve reconciliation. These may include both judicial and non-judicial mechanisms, with differing levels of international involvement (or none at all) and individual prosecutions, reparations, truth-seeking, institutional reform, vetting and dismissals, or a combination thereof.”[2] It is a meaningful process aiming to allow the entire population to come to terms with its violent past, both from the standpoint of victims and perpetrators, rather than serve the interests of a handful.[3] To do so, transitional justice combines mechanisms at three distinct levels: micro, meso, and macro. Retributive justice, as defined by Malcontent, aims at conducting transitional justice by bringing the perpetrators to justice.[4] It emphasises the legal accountability and punishment of individuals who have committed serious crimes. Perpetrators must be held responsible for their actions through fair and proportionate sanctions, often delivered through formal judicial mechanisms. Restorative justice consists of empowering victims through reparations and the establishment of a collective historical narrative.[5] Financial compensations, acknowledgement of wrongdoings, and community participation are the core elements of restorative justice, ensuring integration of victims’ needs. Memory control refers to the shaping or suppression of public narratives by state actors to suit the regime’s aims.[6] In this paper, it encapsulates the political motivation behind Algeria’s transitional justice approach.

Algeria’s post-war policies will be treated as transitional justice in form but not in substance. While the regime adopted instruments commonly associated with transitional justice, it systematically avoided two core functions of genuine transitional justice: accountability for perpetrators and recognition and empowerment of victims. Algeria can therefore be referred to as a “non-case” of transitional justice, not because no post-conflict measures existed, but because the measures that did exist were designed to foreclose truth, justice, and institutional reform, and to consolidate authoritarian continuity.

Historical Contextualisation

Understanding Algeria’s Black Decade requires diving into the colonial footprint left by France, notably after the Independence War of 1954 to 1962. After 130 years of occupation, the Algerian population revolted, overthrowing the French presence.[7] United under the aegis of the FLN, the provisional government, Algerians asserted national sovereignty, gaining independence on July 5, 1962. The FLN then took control of the government by establishing a one-party system, removing any political opposition.[8] As coined by Yefsah, the FLN was a clan, an instrument of control and repression at the service of the Algerian elite.[9] The concept of clan is two-dimensional: it refers to the power held by the regime and by the state. Here, the regime refers to the coalition of actors that has dominated Algerian state power since independence, centred on senior military leadership and security services. The state denotes formal institutions through which the regime operates. While the FLN emerged among national unity against France, it rapidly shifted away from its popular nature.[10] Algeria was then ruled under a succession of authoritarian leaders, concentrating power in the hands of a few.[11]

The origins of the Black Decade can mainly be identified in the growing discontent of the population, which peaked in the 1988 protests. The high unemployment levels, poor economic performance, and the concentration of power in the hands of a few fuelled popular discontent.[12] In October 1988, protests erupted as the youth population demanded a diversification of the political sphere and the reform of the authoritarian regime.[13] Facing this threat, the FLN proposed multiple reforms, such as the El Infitah [the economic opening] and El ta’adudiya el hizbiya [the political opening].[14] The modification of the constitution in 1989 paved the way for political pluralism.[15] Among the new parties, the Front Islamique du Salut (FIS) grew rapidly in popularity and won the local elections of 1990, controlling most municipalities.[16] In December 1991, the FIS won the legislative elections, which was unexpected by the sitting government.[17] The military power panicked, forced President Benjedid to resign, cancelled the legislative results, seized power and declared martial law.[18] The FIS was banned as a whole, and its members were persecuted. The new military regime had little legitimacy in power, as it struggled to outline a clear strategy in navigating the socio-economic crisis. While violent acts had already been conducted prior to the elections of 1992, the military coup further distanced the population from the government, leading to an increase in violence.[19]

The Black Decade opposed the regime to the Algerian civil society, which itself was divided into multiple factions. Until 1993, the two actors of the war were the state and the FIS, supported by its armed branch, the Armée Islamique du Salut (AIS).[20] The radicalisation of the conflict led to a divide within Algerian civil society, as an Islamist faction emerged. In 1993, the Groupe Islamique Armé (GIA) separated itself from the FIS, as it declared war on any person not supporting their ideological fight, including members of the FIS.[21] From 1993 onwards, three different factions opposed each other: the state, the Algerianists under the aegis of the FLN, and the Salafists, united under the GIA. As put forward by Wiktorowicz, the factions had diverging motivations and thus different methods of fighting.[22] The regime wanted to end violence rapidly, hoping to assert authority and regain control of the country.[23] The FIS and AIS believed in the implementation of an Islamic regime, building on cooperation with the diversified political milieu.[24] Their accommodationist ambition was reflected in their approach to fighting, as they conducted the Jihad-al-Sayf [struggle of the sword], which is governed by a set of precise rules.[25] These rules limited the killing of civilians to extreme circumstances. On the other hand, the GIA justified their fighting with a radical interpretation of the Jihad, one built on religious purification.[26] Their slogan was “No agreement, no truce, no dialogue”, as they killed anyone who would not support their cause.[27] The numerous actors, ranging from the state to multiple Islamic factions, complicate the implementation of transitional justice post-war. Assigning responsibility is extremely difficult, as it requires almost a case-by-case analysis. Also, the factions signed a ceasefire with the state at different moments, raising the question of differentiated responsibility. The FIS and AIS signed a total ceasefire in 1997, while the GIA agreed to peace 5 years later, in 2002.[28]

The extremely violent nature of the Black Decade resulted in large numbers of atrocities on both civil and military levels. The total number of casualties is the source of debate, but approximations seem to revolve around 150,000 deaths.[29] However, the lack of official numbers prevents the establishment of a basis for discussion. Wiktorowicz classifies the victims of the atrocities in three categories: civilian populations, the press, and schools.[30] From 1996 to 1999, massacres of civilians were epidemic, as the GIA’s leader, Antar Zaoubri, issued a fatwa against every individual not part of the GIA.[31] As a result, attacks against villages multiplied, and civilians were decapitated and burnt alive.[32] Prominent cultural figures and civil society leaders were kidnapped and executed, as they were considered to be the symbols of debauchery.[33] The pen and the sword were attacked by both the state and the GIA. The press was tightly censored and suited to the propaganda of the state. Sympathetic Islamist journalists were prosecuted and threatened by the regime. The GIA perceived the press as an extension of the regime, justifying the assassination of journalists and editors, as well as the bombing of TV stations.[34] Schools, teachers, and students constituted targets for the GIA, as they were considered the source of heresy. By the end of 1994, 142 teachers had been assassinated, 538 schools suffered bombings or arson, and numerous schoolgirls were killed for not wearing the hijab.[35]

When conducting research, the control of the narrative by the Algerian government prevented the discovery of official records. Finding work detailing and differentiating the number of deaths among the population seems impossible. Also, while this research found documents discussing the roles of the GIA and the FIS in human rights violations, little information concerning the regime’s responsibility was found. The sole mention was its harassment of journalists. This paper contends that this may reflect information constraints rather than the true distribution of responsibility. Thus, the role of the government is belittled, something which requires further research and should not be asserted as an absolute truth.

Transitional Justice Mechanisms

With the aim of putting an end to the conflict, the Algerian regime enforced multiple transitional justice mechanisms, both during and after the Civil War. These processes were implemented at the micro, meso, and macro levels. The main mechanism was laid out at the macro level, with the government using amnesties as a global solution.

The first attempt took the form of the Rahma Law, which granted clemency to fighters who laid down their weapons.[36] Effectively, from 1995 to 1996, it was a direct attempt at defusing the conflict, encouraging the various factions to disarm. In 1997, a unilateral ceasefire was signed between the FIS and the regime, as AIS combatants surrendered arms. This attempt at disengagement and rehabilitation process allowed 15,000 former soldiers to reintegrate into society. This process isolated radical factions, leaving them as the remaining belligerents. Pursuing the aim of disarming militarised groups, the Law of Civil Concord of 1999 granted amnesty to combatants who were not guilty of rape or murder, under the condition that they turned themselves in.[37] Radical Islamists who laid down arms and renounced violence before January 13th, 2000, were granted conditional amnesties. The condition was that they were not responsible for deaths, killings, massacres, rape, or permanent injury.[38] Terrorists who committed such crimes only received a reduced sentence. However, more often than not, amnesties were granted indiscriminately due to a lack of thorough investigation to confirm involvement. The Presidential Decree No. 2000-03 granted blanket amnesties to members of the AIS who abided by the ceasefire of 1997, disregarding their responsibility for human rights violations.[39] The names of the beneficiaries of these amnesties are unknown. In 2003, aiming to help victims of the terror, the Ad Hoc Inquiry Commission in Charge of the Question of Disappearances was mandated to identify, investigate, and determine the whereabouts of those who disappeared between 1992 and 1999.[40] The Commission did not have to identify the perpetrators of the crimes, and the results of its investigations were never made public. In 2005, another restorative mechanism was enforced, the Presidential Decree No. 05-278 on Reparations. It compensated aggrieved families on the condition that they presented a death certificate.[41] Ultimately, the main transitional justice mechanism implemented by the Algerian government is the 2005 Charter for Peace and Reconciliation. To definitely close the chapter of the Black Decade, all individuals, whether Islamist insurgents, civilian auxiliary forces, security forces and state-armed militias, were exempted from judicial proceedings.[42] The charter established rehabilitation programs for Islamist insurgents, as well as financial compensation for families of the disappeared.[43] Overall, the Algerian government has implemented multiple mechanisms aimed at ending the conflict, rehabilitating combatants, and moving away from this sombre period.

Assessment of the Transitional Justice Mechanisms

The implementation of the aforementioned transitional justice mechanisms has not been deemed a success among a multitude of actors, such as the Algerian civil society, international institutions, and academia. This section of the research will critically analyse the transitional justice mechanisms through the three lenses defined in the introduction: restorative justice, retributive justice, and memory control.

Retributive justice, as defined earlier, emphasises the legal accountability and punishment of individuals who have committed serious crimes. In light of this definition, the case of Algeria seems to be a non-case. The government has granted blanket amnesties to all the different factions, regardless of their responsibility. While amnesties were claimed to be conditional, the very few means to investigate prevented verification of the potential ineligibility of combatants.[44] In the few cases of condemnations, perpetrators benefited from reduced sentences.[45] The Charter of 2005 granted amnesties to state officials, preventing them from being held responsible for civilian violence.[46] There was no official recognition of the sexual violence committed during the war, thereby proscribing any legal proceedings.[47] The international community, whether through Amnesty International or the ICCPR, has condemned Algeria’s lack of retributive mechanisms. The 2007 UN Human Rights Committee Concluding Observations on Algeria highlight the lack of clear proceedings against perpetrators of human rights violations.[48] Furthermore, Amnesty International criticised Algeria’s approach as impunity-based and non-compliant with international norms.[49] Through these processes, the Algerian government has prevented any form of accountability from being conducted. Both Islamist terrorists and state forces were protected by laws, as the Algerian regime sought to distance itself from the Black Decade. In sum, the absence of retributive justice has meant no accountability, no prosecutions, and no meaningful confrontation with past crimes.

During a public appearance in Algiers, Bouteflika said, when discussing the cases of the disappeared, “How are you going to leave this war behind if you don’t forget?” [50] This quote betrays his lack of ambition to conduct meaningful victim-centred mechanisms. As defined earlier, restorative justice consists of empowering victims through reparations and the establishment of a collective historical narrative.[51] The instances of restorative justice conducted by the Algerian government were relatively scarce, as the idea of ‘moving on’ guided policymaking.[52] Financial reparations were attributed only on the basis of providing a death certificate.[53] Quite evidently, the complexity of obtaining such a document, notably considering the vast amount of disappearances, led to only 6,400 individuals benefiting from financial packages of up to €6,000.[54] In addition to the small number of beneficiaries, the restoration mechanism stopped there. Individuals’ demands for truth and justice were ignored. This lack of transparency has been reinforced by the absence of a truth-telling commission, preventing the establishment of a collective narrative. The Charter blocked the possibility of truth-seeking processes, as it focused on providing reparations only.[55] While the Ad Hoc Inquiry Commission in Charge of the Question of Disappearances seemed to offer some sort of truth-telling, the non-publication of the final report questions the use of such a commission.[56] Indeed, as none of the findings was made public, the attempt at providing information on the disappeared failed. Considering women victims of sexual violence, a reparation amounting to 297$ was offered in 2014.[57] Yet again, international institutions have vastly criticised Algeria’s approach to restorative justice, notably on the need to present a death certificate to be eligible for compensation.[58] Similar criticism has been made of the lack of outcome of the Ad Hoc Commission.[59] The absence of a truth-telling commission has prevented community-led mechanisms from existing, condemning the historical narrative to be subject to the regime’s vision. Moreover, while the Charter claimed to focus on reparations, few funds were dispensed as the eligibility was complex, and the sum offered was minimal. Overall, the restorative mechanisms implemented in Algeria are considered to be marginal.

In addition to retributive and restorative mechanisms, memory control encapsulates the political motivation behind Algeria’s transitional justice approach. This process is a key dimension of post-conflict power, as it reinforces dominant historical narratives. The framing of the Black Decade as a national tragedy removes any form of responsibility, whether for insurgents or state forces.[60] In doing so, the violence is depoliticised, allowing the regime to justify blanket amnesties for the sake of national healing, rather than risking a reopening of polarisation. The Charter provides a legal framework for enforcing this memory control, as Article 46 criminalises speech that damages the reputation of national institutions, effectively silencing victims and preventing alternative narratives.[61] The analysis of the transitional justice mechanisms through the theoretical lenses of retributive justice, restorative justice, and memory control points towards the conclusion that Algeria is a non-case.

Deconstructing Bouteflika’s Vision

The preceding sections have put forth arguments as to why the mechanisms and policies put in place by the Algerian government resemble transitional justice in form but not in substance. This assessment thus generates a second question: what reasons explain a reconciliation framework that excludes truth and accountability? This section of this essay will therefore shift from evaluating the mechanisms as transitional justice to analysing them as a strategy of power consolidation and institutional continuity, later encountering renewed contestation, particularly during the Hirak movement.

The reasons for pursuing such a transitional justice path can be understood mainly through two aspects: political stability and institutional continuity. The immediate prosecution of the insurgents can lead to political instability, as it reopens the wounds of a conflict which barely ended. Indeed, there needs to be a balance between prosecution and clemency to incentivise the collaboration of all the factions.[62] Moreover, the complexities specific to the Black Decade lie in the large number of armed factions. As pointed out earlier in the research, identifying exactly what factions committed which crime is extremely complex. This difficulty is reinforced by the fact that some Islamic factions pursued fighting until 2011.[63] Mundy also argues that there was a lack of Islamist pressure to conduct truth-telling commissions.[64] Considering these elements, the argument for political stability seems to be justified, as the Algerian regime acted out of national interest. By not conducting an aggressive pursuit of justice, the government prevented polarisation and political instability.

The question then arises of how long a country must be stable before it can reopen the wounds of its past. The immense complexity of this answer entails that it cannot be given by an entity exterior to the country. Instead, it is the opinion of the people that should dictate such a process. This paper contends that the protests of 2019, the Hirak, are symptomatic of the people’s willingness to delve into their past, undermining the argument of political stability. As put forward by Davis, the Hirak movement has attempted to challenge the state’s monopoly on history by honouring historical figures excluded from official narratives and resisting censorship.[65] The movement has protested the authoritarian nature of the regime, pushing for political pluralism.[66] The absence of change, if not a deterioration, since 2019, undermines the previously established justification for the government’s transitional justice approach: political stability. Rather, institutional continuity was the main driving factor of Bouteflika’s perception of stability. By preventing judicial prosecutions, Bouteflika ensured that the regime would not come under scrutiny, maintaining his image as the one who ended the war. Governmental institutions were protected by the blanket amnesties, and the military asserted its authority over the regime’s structure.

Conclusion

This paper has demonstrated that Algeria represents a “non-case” of transitional justice when assessed through the lenses of retributive justice, restorative justice, and memory control. The sweeping amnesty laws and the absence of legal proceedings against both insurgents and state agents testify to the lack of retributive justice. Restorative justice was equally marginalised: no truth commissions were established, investigations were kept secret, and reparations were limited. Through laws such as Article 46 of the 2005 Charter, the state has enforced a politics of forgetting, criminalising public discourse that asserts the civil war as a “national tragedy”. While political stability may have initially legitimised this approach, the Hirak protests of 2019 have exposed the limits of that logic. Rather than facilitating democratic transition or healing, the state’s transitional justice framework has entrenched authoritarian continuity. The enduring dominance of military-backed elites, ongoing restrictions on civil society, and the suppression of historical inquiry suggest that Algeria’s reconciliation was not transitional; it was a means of preserving power under the guise of closure. All in all, neither transition nor justice took place in the Land of a Million Martyrs.

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