The weight of colonial memory

In a remote town in southern Algeria, where summer lasts for six months, we encounter a young woman and her father. Their relationship appears robust on the surface, but as events unfold, we realise that it is fraught with tension, particularly after the young woman is accused of murdering her husband. Opening with this crime-thriller subplot, "Fighting the Flow" offers a thorough portrayal of an Algerian society still grappling with its past—one marked by violence and counter-violence.

The 288-page novel explores the transformation of Algerian society since World War II, the war of liberation against French colonialism (1954-62) and its aftermath. It was published this month by Hachette Antoine in Beirut and will be translated into English soon.

Despite attempts to break free from the legacies of their forefathers, history drags characters towards a fate which contradicts their desires, as though along a river's course. The novel is split in its narration between parent and child, with each offering a distinct narrative viewpoint.

There is the perspective of the father, Azouz, who embodies the contradictions of fatherhood in a post-colonial society, burdened as he is with a painful history that he cannot wish away. He is haunted by "kiyya"—a brand on his back which marks those accused of collaborating with the coloniser. 

The branding does not haunt the father alone, but also his daughter Akila and son Miloud. Fatherhood becomes encircled in shame, losing the symbolic authority typically granted by the traditional patriarchal system. The novel asks whether the father can protect his identity from fracturing, or if he—like his children—is a victim of an inescapable colonial legacy.

The dominance of traditional family relationships

The narrative reflects post-independence Algerian society as a psychologically troubled terrain, caught between the dominance of tradition and the desire for independence. Strict social traditions impose constraints on the freedom of individuals, limiting their choices. These tensions manifest in an extreme reverence for parental authority, which prevents the questioning or challenging of its power.

This absolute obedience—arising from a fear of confrontation or the consequences of rebellion—turns children into prisoners of their parents' legacies, leading to the disintegration of family bonds. Miloud, for example, in fear of his parents' reaction, refuses to recognise his daughter, who is born out of wedlock, leaving her to face a tragic fate. This tragedy mirrors the experience of Miloud's father, Azouz, who also once avoided taking responsibility for a child born out of wedlock.

Azouz explains this strained relationship by saying: "No one truly knows their children," reflecting the isolation experienced by children within their families.

Meanwhile, his daughter Akila, an ophthalmologist, finds herself caught between two forms of authority imposed by society: that of her mother, Qamara, who herself had a patriarchal upbringing, and that of her husband, Makhlouf Toumi, a forensic doctor who inflicts both physical and symbolic violence upon her.

Akila reflects on her experience with her mother and mother-in-law, proclaiming: "Mothers treat their children like war trophies. They want them to be submissive, unquestioning." Through Akila, the novel poses a philosophical question rarely dealt with in contemporary literature, on the nature of desire for motherhood and its practice. Does the dominant discourse play a role in shaping this desire? Akila questions her relationship with her daughter: "I have not yet made up my mind: do I love her [my daughter] or am I just instinctively performing motherhood? And yet, as a child, I dreamt of being a mother."

Khatibi also explores patriarchal dominance among the educated classes, as embodied by Akila's husband, Dr. Makhlouf Toumi. Toumi clings to traditional notions of fatherhood, in a manner typical of other members of society. Akila describes him as follows: "He wished for a son, but I gave birth to a daughter, so he made me into his enemy. He knows that it is the man who determines the baby's sex, yet he refuses to accept it. After giving birth, I asked him what we should name our daughter. He answered: 'A marriage that does not produce a son is a waste of time.'"

Women in the War of Liberation

The French intellectual Frantz Fanon, alongside many others, has explored the psychological and social transformations that Algerian society underwent after the War of Liberation, including the role of women during this pivotal moment. Particular attention has been given to the struggles of single women who, after losing husbands, had to raise children alone, reshaping gender dynamics within society.

However, Khatibi's novel reveals the ways in which gender roles have remained largely unchanged, due to a lack of consciousness around relationships between men and women within the family, as well as due to the influence of extremist religious currents on some segments of society. These dynamics have created broken families and led to an increase in violence and discrimination against women.

In this context, Khatibi does not overlook the role of women in the War of Liberation, as seen in the character of Qamara Dili, who works alongside the women freedom fighters, and Shahla Al-Barq, described as follows: "She executed her missions with lightning speed, charging forward without looking back. She was a feda’ee in the War of Liberation." Here, the narrative also challenges stereotypes that associate men with violence and women with emotion. The character of Shahla, for instance, engages in the torture of those accused of collaborating with the coloniser.

"Fighting the Flow" also explores the tense relationship between medicine and religion, as they meet to shape collective consciousness after colonialism. Under colonial rule, a doctor was not only someone who treated illness, but also a symbol of authority. After independence, the doctor continues to hold this authority, while coming into conflict with religion which continues to be central to Algerian society.

A violent legacy

Khatibi offers an example through the practice of organ donation, a topic rarely addressed in Arabic literature. The lack of awareness around organ donation in Algerian society leads to unethical practices such as the theft of organs from the deceased. The forensic doctor Makhlouf Toumi recruits his wife, Akila, to steal organs from dead bodies in pursuit of financial gain.

This physical exploitation of the dead takes on a symbolic dimension: the human body is treated like a mere commodity in a society that has only recently freed itself from a colonial rule characterised by violence and bodily exploitation.

The novel is a continuation of Khatibi's ongoing literary project, which exposes and critiques the roots and manifestations of oppression and exclusion within Algerian society, whether overt or concealed, through gripping narratives. 

Khatibi's language complements his plot, weaving together multiple characters, internal monologues, and a diversity of literary genres. The narrative structure is built upon the memories of the father and daughter characters, while the other characters are summoned through short narrative segments that break up the sequence of events.

With no chapter titles to guide the way, the text demands continuous focus from the reader to unravel the mystery of the murder and grasp the social transformations of the historical period. In this work, history is not merely a backdrop, but a dynamic force that reshapes the conflict of the present through the past—inviting readers to question existing value systems and social structures.

This article is an edited translation of the Arabic original. Translation by Basyma Saad.