Emmanuel Macron was the first president to describe colonization as a «crime against humanity,» more than sixty years after the wars of independence. How can we explain these years of silence? An interview with Christelle Taraud, a historian specializing in colonization.
«A civilization that chooses to turn a blind eye to its most critical problems is a civilization in crisis.» In his Speech on ColonialismIn 1950, the Martinican writer and politician Aimé Césaire powerfully denounced European colonialist ideology and accused its «masters» to be unable to face up to and resolve the «colonial problem»that they had created. Seventy years after this text was written, following the end of the wars of independence, the story French colonization and the processes of decolonization remain only partially understood and studied.
Yet, debates surrounding France's colonial past have intensified in recent years: calls to acknowledge the massacres and their victims, restitution of works of art, removal of statues… It wasn’t until 2017 that Emmanuel Macron became the first French president to describe colonization as «crime against humanity» and, three years later, to launch a mission on the legacy of colonization and the Algerian War. During his speech on «separatism» on October 2, he referred to the «traumas» from the colonial past, which France has not «still not «resolved.»". Are we witnessing the end of a taboo? Can we «reconcile» different memories? Franceinfo spoke with Christelle Taraud, a historian specializing in colonization and decolonization. Among other works, she has published Common Misconceptions About Colonization (The Blue Rider, 2018).
Franceinfo: First of all, when we talk about colonization and then decolonization, what time period are we referring to?
Christelle Taraud: The colonial issue in Europe dates back to the period known as the «Age of Discovery,» beginning in the 15th century, when the first empires—primarily Portuguese and Spanish—began to take shape in Africa and the Americas. But today, in public debate, politicians and scholars rarely refer to these empires, except when discussing the history of slavery, since the Atlantic slave trade was a direct result of this division of the world.
Now, when we talk about European colonization, we are referring primarily to the colonial empires that were established beginning in the early 19th century, when we saw a complete occupation of territories—which was not the case in earlier phases of colonial expansion—and we mention almost exclusively the French and British empires, even though there were also Portuguese, Dutch, Belgian, and German empires.
As for the «era of independence,» it officially began just after World War II. For France, it began with the Indochina War (1946–1954) and ended with the Cameroon War (1955–1961) and the Algerian War (1954–1962). Other territories, referred to in imperialist parlance as «empire’s confetti,» gained their independence much later. Djibouti did not gain independence until 1977, and let us recall that there were a referendum for New Caledonia's independence this year.
After the end of the wars of independence, what was the attitude of French leaders toward this colonial past?
I could sum it up in a pithy phrase: glorification of the work, denial of the crimes. The government’s policy has been to highlight the «benefits» of France’s «civilizing mission,» while remaining silent about the crimes. Immediately after the Evian Accords in 1962 [which ratify Algeria's independence] And up until 1982, the government passed two decrees and three laws that would prevent any prosecution for crimes committed during that war. These laws cast a veil of secrecy over everything the French army did in Algeria, as well as the role and actions of the Secret Army Organization (OAS).
The French government's approach to the Algerian War was one of scorched earth.on franceinfo
The beginning of the so-called postcolonial era was also marked by a series of assassinations of independence leaders. I am thinking of Félix Moumié, a leading figure in the independence movement of French Cameroon, who was assassinated in 1960 in Geneva, but also of the Moroccan opposition leader Mehdi Ben Barka, abducted right in the heart of Paris and likely killed in the Paris region in 1965. Or in the Maurice Audin case, which remains unresolved. His widow died in 2019 without knowing where her husband’s body was or having been able to give him a proper burial.
This policy—which was more neocolonial than postcolonial—also persisted in other forms, such as what has been called «Françafrique»: a system of interdependencies that France established with its former colonies in sub-Saharan Africa in order to maintain its sphere of influence there.
Aside from the Algerian War, the history of colonial wars and massacres (Sétif, Guelma, and Kherrata in Algeria in 1945, Haiphong, Vietnam, in 1946…) is largely unknown, as is the conscription of colonized peoples into the French army. How can this be explained?
A nation always finds it harder to talk about the wars or massacres it has committed than about the positive contributions it has made. Regarding the liberation of Paris, the official narrative is that mainland France liberated itself; this effectively excludes all non-white and/or non-Christian French people.
For a long time, we failed to remember that Senegalese and Algerian riflemen, Moroccan goumiers, and soldiers from Indochina, Madagascar, and the West Indies had played a central role in the liberation of France.on franceinfo
All of this has led, on the one hand, to a «whitewashing» of the French army and, on the other hand, to the denial of the colonial crimes committed by that institution. That of Thiaroye [In 1944, near Dakar, the French army opened fire on Senegalese riflemen who were demanding payment of their wages] is one of the greatest disgraces of our contemporary history.
Aside from the heavy silence of the state and its institutions, one of the major obstacles to recounting these events is also access to the archives. With regard to the Algerian War, as well as the Rwandan genocide, there are still calls—particularly from the historical community—for a number of documents classified as “secret-defense” to be made public. Preventing or restricting access to archives is another form of denial. In other places, such as Cameroon, the vast majority of sources have been destroyed, which makes writing about these events even more complicated and the role of witnesses even more important than elsewhere.
Could this lack of resources explain the acts of toppling statues that we have seen in several countries this year?
This is very recent history, but the removal of statues of segregationist or colonial generals [which took place after the death of George Floyd, a Black American man killed by a white police officer] is both an example of and the result of this denial of the racist and colonial past. For me, the problem isn’t having a statue of Marshal Bugeaud in a public square in France, as long as we explain who he was and put his presence in context. Just because you remove the object doesn’t mean you erase history. But the problem remains the national narrative and the glorification of these men within it.
We could reclaim a shared space—the names of squares and streets—that reflect a diversity of genders, ethnicities, and faiths. Our country was not built solely by wealthy white men, nor is it inhabited today solely by them.on franceinfo
Whenever there is a debate about colonial history, a segment of the political and intellectual establishment denounces what it calls «repentance.» What does this rhetoric mean?
I’m not sure that the former colonized peoples and their children are asking France to repent, but rather to make amends—which is very different. In reality, behind this discourse in France lies the issue of nationalism. Nationalism promotes a binary view: those who can be part of the nation, and everyone else. One might ask: Isn’t this, in fact, one of the very problems that prevent us from facing our colonial past head-on? What place do we want to give the descendants of colonial history in the nation today?
But this is nothing new—the question was already being raised as early as the French Revolution, when the revolutionaries excluded women from active citizenship—and it is not specific to France: all former colonial powers, from the United Kingdom to Belgium and Portugal, are now grappling with these issues.
In France, it wasn't until the 1990s that official recognition took place…
In 1999, a law was passed on the rOfficial Recognition of the Algerian War, and then, in 2005, Jacques Chirac officially acknowledged the massacre of Madagascar [In 1947, the army cracked down on Malagasy independence activists, resulting in between 80,000 and 90,000 deaths] and François Hollande, in 2012 in Dakar, the Thiaroye massacre [the toll of which is still unknown]. These acknowledgments come at a particular time: French citizens of postcolonial immigrant descent are increasingly insisting on being reintegrated into the national narrative—not only in history, but also through the struggles against discrimination, such as The March for Equality and Against Racism in 1983.
The children of the harkis and pieds-noirs are also beginning to ask questions: Why are we treated this way? What have we done? Many communities are beginning to hold the French government accountable. Since the 1946 departmentalization, residents of the French overseas departments and territories have regularly risen up in protest and have also demanded accountability from France regarding the inequalities and discrimination they face.
The international context has also changed. In his speech in La Baule in 1990, during the 16th conference of the heads of state of Africa and France, François Mitterrand spoke of the «democratization of Africa,», marking a transition toward the end of a very special—and unequal—relationship between France and its sphere of influence in Africa. And then, gradually, a new generation of politicians came to power—one that had not been shaped by the «Franco-African» model of Charles de Gaulle and Jacques Foccart [Secretary General of the Élysée Palace for African and Malagasy Affairs from 1960 to 1974]. That won't be the end of stereotypes, however. We recall, for example, Nicolas Sarkozy's speech in July 2007 in Dakar, where he stated that «The African man has not made his mark on history to a sufficient degree.».
Despite these advances, in 2005, the government introduced a bill to include the «positive role» of French colonization in school textbooks. Why?
Deep down, the French government still struggles to move beyond glorifying its «colonial legacy.» This law required historians and teachers to emphasize the «positive aspects of colonization, particularly in North Africa», —that is, Algeria, which had been the empire’s only settlement colony since 1848! It should have been pointed out that Algeria was not a colony, but rather France itself, and that it had benefited from a genuine «civilizational contribution.» This is not all that surprising, since education in France—particularly since the French Revolution—has profoundly shaped our national narrative.
In fact, the teaching of colonial history in France is very inadequate. I’m sure that if you asked the French which colonial wars they know about, at best they would only mention Algeria and Indochina—never the war in Cameroon! Similarly, when we talk about inequalities in colonial systems or the Indigenous Code, they’re treated as mere side issues, with no connection to the inequalities in our societies today.
Understanding colonization is essential to understanding France today.on franceinfo
I believe this denial stems from the fact that it calls into question our country’s founding values and our struggles to put them into practice. The French Revolution set in stone that «All men are born free and equal in rights», so how could France have given rise to colonization? How can one be both a republican and a colonialist? How can we explain systemic racism, both in the past and today? These questions persist, they are painful, and that is why it is still very difficult to talk about them.
To «repair» our memories, should we start by rewriting history books?
We need to revise the curricula, because we can no longer teach the history of colonization the way we did thirty or forty years ago; we need to train secondary school teachers. I see many who are at a loss, facing students who wonder why the history of their parents and grandparents is missing from history textbooks.
Today’s France is very different from the France of 1789, 1848, 1962… It is the product of a complex demographic transformation in which postcolonial immigration plays a significant role. What seemed very important to convey to the French of the past may be less so—or must be conveyed differently—for those of today. But one thing is certain: history has always been written by those in power, and the colonized have most often been excluded from it.
We need to envision a new history, moving beyond a Eurocentric, male-dominated, and white perspective on history. We must restore the former colonized countries to their rightful place and recognize the complexity of their peoples.on franceinfo
Some historians refer to a «war of memories» to describe the desire of each group (Harkis, Pied-Noirs, descendants of slaves, etc.) to have its own narrative.
This «war of memories» seems logical to me, since our history is exclusive rather than inclusive. But what we need is not for everyone to write their own history, but to succeed in writing a shared history together. We shouldn’t write one history of the colonizers on one side and one of the colonized on the other, but rather a history of the colonial and postcolonial relationship. We need to listen to testimonies and take both sides seriously—across multiple generations.
What these groups are telling us is, «We don’t exist,» «Where do we belong? We are ghosts of history.» All of this causes terrible individual and collective suffering, as well as deep-seated resentment.on franceinfo
By refusing to talk about these issues, we cause lasting harm to individuals and society; it’s like a cancer that eats away at us from the inside and prevents any shared future.
Can art, literature, film, and theater make up for this lack?
The role of artists is absolutely crucial. They are «facilitators»; they help us «make things visible,» step outside the official narrative, and perhaps also «heal» wounds and traumas. The film Indigenous people, Rachid Bouchareb’s film, released in 2006, was very significant because it debunked the myth that the liberation of France was orchestrated solely by white French people. In reality, the Liberation was fueled by the marginalization of soldiers from the Empire. Without them, would we have been able to regain our freedom?
This film also sparked a debate about the benefits for former soldiers and led to an increase in pensions for them or their families. Even though this increase comes very late and the vast majority of the men who could have benefited from it have passed away, it is, from a symbolic standpoint, very significant.
Generally speaking, art embodies something very powerful; it is our culture, what binds us together. The question of the bond created by art is essential, as demonstrated by the debate over France’s restitution of artworks from Africa. We have forgotten just how terrible cultural plunder was during colonization. Sub-Saharan Africa has seen 90% of its artifacts disappear. When you tear away a culture, you take its soul with you.
I find it somewhat obscene to say that returning works of art would lead to ‘emptying French museums,’ because it is not here that the void lies. And how could a nation be built on a void?on franceinfo
Today, if a woman from Senegal, a man from Côte d’Ivoire, a woman from Cameroon… wishes to access works of art from their own history, they must travel—when possible—to Paris, London, or Washington. We must ensure that this is no longer the case, but not in a paternalistic way. The return of these works is part of a necessary process of reparations.
Beyond objects and history, you also speak of a «decolonization of minds.».
Decolonization is officially recognized because we signed treaties, but above all because people fought for their country’s independence. Nothing was given; everything was won! It’s important to remember that. But are these processes over? No, they take on insidious forms. Colonization is no longer officially present in these territories, but in our minds, we constantly interact with stereotypes, reinforcing power dynamics inherited from that era.
Colonial exoticism is still present in gender relations. Beginning in the 1980s, the image of the «beurette» has been very prominent in the media, advertising, television, and film—including pornography. Recently, the debate over the Asian women clearly illustrated the standardization these women faced: whether they were Thai, Japanese, Vietnamese… the only thing that matters is their supposed propensity for «submission.» This neocolonial, male-centered narrative is a formidable force that we must absolutely deconstruct, for we must never forget the extent to which it fuels physical, psychological, and sexual violence against minorities and women.
During his speech on «separatism,» Emmanuel Macon referred to France’s colonial past and its «still unresolved» traumas. He also commissioned a study on the memory of colonization and the Algerian War. Is this the beginning of a new phase?
Since Emmanuel Macron’s speech in Ouagadougou in 2017, there has been a growing sense of a desire to do things differently, even if we’re still feeling our way. But, as the saying goes: words are good, actions are better! Among the actions that could be taken quickly are the creation of a museum dedicated to colonial history in France and the integration of postcolonial studies into universities—a field that remains the subject of intense controversy.
It is not, as some fear, a matter of imposing an American framework on France, but rather of considering the postcolonial studies as a «toolkit»—much like gender studies—that we can use to better understand our history and make it more inclusive, that is, truly universal.
