When former French President Valéry Giscard d’Estaing declared in a televised interview that “the tragedy of Algeria is that it has never had a president of Houari Boumediene’s caliber since his death”, it was neither sentimental nostalgia nor belated flattery. The significance of this statement lies precisely in the fact that Giscard had been a political adversary of Boumediene, representing a country whose interests were directly challenged by Algeria’s sovereign policies in the 1970s.
In this context, Giscard’s acknowledgment becomes a strategic recognition: Boumediene was not merely a head of state; he embodied a nation with clear will, strategic vision, and the capacity to unsettle established international balances. In other words, Algeria at the time was led by a statesman capable of thinking historically, acting decisively, and navigating the complex logic of power.
Forty-seven years after his death on December 27, 1978, this absence continues to weigh heavily on the Algerian state. The gap is not merely personal—it is the loss of a method of governance and a philosophy of sovereignty.
Boumediene: Sovereignty as Practice, Not Slogan
For Houari Boumediene, sovereignty was a tangible practice rather than a rhetorical device. The nationalization of hydrocarbons, Algeria’s central role in the Non-Aligned Movement, overt support for liberation movements, and firmness against Western pressures all reflected a simple principle: in the international system, respect is earned, not requested.
Algeria under Boumediene was not an economic superpower, but it was politically credible, strategically coherent, and prepared to bear the costs of its sovereign decisions. This clarity and consistency gave it weight far beyond material capabilities.
Contemporary Algeria and the Test of Strategic Weakness
Today, Algeria operates in an increasingly unstable regional environment: the reshaping of Maghreb alliances, energy rivalries, accelerated normalization with Israel, militarized peripheral conflicts, and information and influence warfare.
Yet Algeria often appears hesitant, reactive rather than proactive, constrained by short-term calculations. This weakness is not due to a lack of capacity—Algeria possesses real military, human, and economic assets—but to a deficit in political vision and strategic courage.
A striking example is the drone attack that killed three Algerian truck drivers in Western Sahara, attributed to Morocco. This was a direct and serious act of aggression against Algerians, outside any declared war. It represented a clear red line.
The response promised by President Abdelmadjid Tebboune, expected as a test of state credibility, has yet to materialize. The prolonged silence has sent a dangerous message: that such aggression can go unpunished.
Boumediene, Amgala, and the Logic of Deterrence
Had Boumediene been in power, such an act would have provoked a swift and firm response—not out of a desire for escalation, but because the principle of deterrence relies on certainty of retaliation. A targeted strike against the Smara airbase from which the drones were launched, for example, would have conveyed an unmistakable message: the security of Algerians is non-negotiable.
History provides a clear precedent: the Battle of Amgala II. When Moroccan incursions occurred in Western Sahara, Boumediene ordered an immediate and decisive military response. The goal was not war for its own sake but to enforce clear red lines. That decisiveness stabilized the strategic balance precisely because there was no ambiguity.
A Dangerous Misreading
Contrary to popular belief, Morocco has not acted brazenly because it is inherently stronger. It has acted so because it perceives weakness in Algeria’s posture. In international relations, perception is often as consequential as reality. Inaction is read as tacit permission.
Boumediene understood this: peace is not preserved by cautious statements but by credible deterrence. A state that fails to protect its citizens loses, de facto, its strategic weight.
A Lesson for the Present
Commemorating Boumediene should not be mere nostalgia; it should be an exercise in political awareness. Algeria does not need to mythologize the past—it needs to revive a culture of strategic statecraft, with leaders who think in terms of power, deterrence, and vital national interests.
In a world that has grown unforgiving, where international law often bows to raw power, Algeria cannot afford hesitation. The absence of Boumediene was not only the absence of a man but the absence of a state confident in itself.
For this reason, Giscard d’Estaing’s observation—even from a former adversary—remains uncomfortably true:
With Boumediene’s departure, Algeria lost its strategic stature.
Comments
Post a Comment