Algiers' Casbah Rocks—and Cracks: Le Nif and the Discontents of Power

Morocco World

25-04-2025

Algeria, once a proud revolutionary beacon in North Africa and the Global South, is fast becoming a textbook case of post-revolutionary immobilism. The military-backed regime, still cloaked in the aura of its anti-colonial legacy, is increasingly brittle—diplomatically isolated, regionally sidelined, and domestically stagnant.
At the center of this immobilism lies the enduring cultural construct of le nif ( thinzarin in Taqbaylit)—literally 'the nose'—a deeply embedded metaphor for the point of honor, dignity, self-esteem, virility, and principled pride. Historically, le nif served as a cultural glue, underpinning resistance to both colonial domination and post-colonial internal fragmentation. It was the moral backbone of the revolution, the righteous defiance against colonial humiliation, and the symbolic currency of national pride.
As the geopolitical dynamics of North Africa shift and Algeria's internal cohesion erodes, the risks of systemic breakdown are becoming increasingly evident. Comparisons to Syria or Sudan, once dismissed as alarmist, now resonate with unsettling plausibility.
Le nif , which once fueled national liberation, has—through its rigid use—assumed the form of what sociologist Pierre Bourdieu calls 'symbolic violence': a cultural device transformed into a mechanism of political sclerosis, reproducing domination by constraining the discursive space for critique, negotiation, and reform.
What was once a source of resilience has calcified into a defensive posture that stifles dissent and forecloses compromise. Short of a recalibration of both governance and cultural paradigms, Algeria risks not only a diminished regional role but the real possibility of profound instability with far-reaching implications.
At the heart of Algeria's regional standoff lies its decades-long, hardline position on the disputed Sahara region. Algiers' unwavering support for the separatist Polisario Front, once a pillar of its revolutionary identity and foreign policy, has left it increasingly alone. Morocco, by contrast, has deftly mobilized international support for its sovereignty plan over the disputed territory.
The United States , Spain , Germany , and, most recently, France have recognized Moroccan sovereignty over the Sahara, leaving Algiers diplomatically outmaneuvered, ideologically stranded, and culturally—and in terms of le nif — en panne . What was once a source of legitimacy for the Algerian regime has become a symbol of its foreign policy failure—an honor-bound stance now bordering on obstinate self-isolation.
The fallout from Morocco's 2020 resumption of relations with Israel only deepened this rupture. For the record, Morocco severed diplomatic relations with Israel as a result of the Arab League of States' decision following the Second Intifada in 2000. For Algeria, Rabat's rapprochement with Israel was not just a diplomatic maneuver—it was a geopolitical and ideological provocation. Algiers viewed the deal as a direct menace to its national security and position on the Sahara issue, especially given the Trump administration's recognition of Moroccan sovereignty as part of the normalization package.
In August 2021, Algeria severed diplomatic ties with Morocco, accusing it of espionage, cyberattacks, and collaboration with Israel to destabilize the Algerian state. These reactions were steeped in the politics of le nif —defending perceived national dignity even at the cost of regional cooperation. Airspace was closed, communication channels shut down, and the rhetoric turned openly hostile. In response, Morocco has leaned further into its strategic realignment with Western powers and Gulf countries, while Algeria drifts deeper into a bloc anchored by Russia and Iran.
Algeria's regional isolation does not end with Rabat. In the Sahel , recent coups in Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso have brought to power military juntas more aligned with Moscow than with Algiers. Once seen as a regional broker, Algeria is now viewed with suspicion. Its alleged involvement in downing a Malian drone—and Bamako's subsequent accusation that Algeria is 'sponsoring international terrorism' —underscores just how rapidly its influence has eroded.
Relations with Tunisia, Mauritania, and Libya are similarly frayed, complicated by border insecurities, energy competition, and diverging strategic visions. The cultural imperative of le nif , rather than inviting solidarity, has hardened into a posture that alienates allies and limits diplomatic agility.
Nowhere, however, is Algeria's unraveling more vividly exposed than in its crumbling relationship with France . The recent diplomatic rupture was triggered by Paris 's recognition of Moroccan sovereignty over the Sahara—an unforgivable affront to Algiers. The Algerian government recalled its ambassador, denounced the move, and accused France of abandoning its neutrality in the Maghreb.
Tensions escalated further with the politically charged sentencing of Algerian-born French writer Boualem Sansal , who is 76 and suffers from cancer, condemned to five years in prison and fined for allegedly undermining state security, territorial integrity, and institutional stability, after making remarks about Western Algeria belonging to Morocco. When President Macron came to Sansal's defense, President Tebboune lashed out, calling the writer 'a thief sent by France,' an 'imposter' and a 'bastard.' The regime's reaction, framed through the lens of honor and shame, again mirrored the intransigence of le nif weaponized.
Then came a chilling incident : the attempted kidnapping in a Paris suburb of dissident TikTok influencer Amir Boukhors (a.k.a. Amir DZ), allegedly carried out by individuals connected to Algeria's consulate in France.
French authorities responded swiftly—expelling Algerian diplomats and recalling their ambassador. Algiers reciprocated with matching measures. What had been a fragile post-colonial relationship has collapsed into a theater of transnational repression, diplomatic tit-for-tat, and mutual mistrust.
What we are witnessing is not simply a diplomatic spat, but a deeper unraveling of Algeria's geopolitical posture. Reports of growing ties between Algiers and Tehran—along with continued support for the separatist Polisario Front and alleged coordination with Iran-backed actors—suggest that Algeria may be pivoting into an anti-Western axis. It is a posture not of strength, but of desperation—a hollowed-out version of le nif , no longer a source of dignity, but of defensive isolation.
Yet perhaps the more alarming storm is brewing within.
Algeria's external isolation mirrors its internal malaise. Since the suppression of the Hirak protest movement, the regime has reverted to its authoritarian reflexes: militarized rule, suffocating political space, and surveillance as governance. The hydrocarbon-dependent economy is teetering under the weight of inflation, mass youth unemployment, and a chronic failure to diversify.
The regime offers no path forward—only control, denial, and increasingly cruel repression. In this climate, le nif is invoked not to empower, but to silence—turned inward as a moral cudgel against dissent, a brittle facade masking deep political and social insecurity.
Could Algeria follow Syria's path? The question sounds alarmist—until you look closer. The parallels to pre-collapse Syria are hard to ignore: an insular elite ( Le Pouvoir ) clinging to power as its legitimacy erodes, a traumatized society silenced by fear, and a political system incapable of reform. Likewise, Algeria's trauma is homegrown. The 'Black Decade' of the 1990s—its brutal civil war—left 200,000 dead and entire communities scarred by violence, disappearance, and grief. The security state forged in that period still governs today: unaccountable, paranoid, and brittle.
The ghosts of the 1990s are not gone. They are watching. Waiting. And if the world turns away again, they may not wait much longer.
The danger lies not just in the status quo—but in its unraveling.
The architecture of repression that once guaranteed regime survival has now become a source of systemic fragility. Algeria's youth—digitally connected, politically aware, and economically marginalized—are losing patience. The social contract is unraveling. The regime's hydrocarbon lifeline is fraying. And its geopolitical compass is spinning. Algeria is not simply at a crossroads—it is running out of road. Here, le nif could still be salvaged—not as a shield of denial, but as a catalyst for renewal, reimagined through collective dignity rather than state authoritarianism.
The implications of collapse would be catastrophic. A failed Algerian state could trigger mass refugee flows into Europe, destabilize fragile neighbors like Tunisia and Libya, and create fertile ground for extremist and criminal networks.
The Maghreb and Sahel—already strained by climate shocks, conflict, and institutional fragility—would face another vector of chaos. The international community ignored Syria's early warnings. It must not repeat that mistake with Algeria.
And yet, the window for a course correction has not completely closed. Several scenarios remain possible—each one a test of how Algeria interprets and mobilizes le nif in the 21st century: Managed Transition : A phased political opening, paired with economic reform and dialogue, could pave a peaceful way forward. This would require the regime to reframe le nif not as stubbornness or false pride, but as the dignity of listening to its people, honoring dissent, and taking courageous steps toward renewal. True honor lies not in holding power at all costs, but in passing it on responsibly.
Authoritarian Entrenchment : The regime may double down—tightening control while continuing to conflate le nif with repression and infallibility. In this interpretation, pride becomes paralysis. It delays collapse but makes the eventual reckoning more violent, as dignity is weaponized rather than reimagined.
Geopolitical Realignment : Algeria may further tether itself to powers like Iran and Russia, seeking validation through an anti-Western stance cloaked in defiant sovereignty. But such moves risk reducing le nif to a performative shield—more about resisting external pressure than addressing internal decay.
Economic Diversification : Long touted but rarely implemented, this path could offer a lifeline—especially if le nif is invoked as a source of industriousness and national resilience rather than mere resource nationalism. But without political liberalization, such dignity remains hollow, like a house rebuilt on a cracked foundation.
For Europe, the United States and regional partners, the stakes could not be higher. Supporting a peaceful and democratic Algerian transition now is far less costly than managing the aftermath of its collapse later.
The Casbah still stands. But the cracks are widening—and the walls may not hold much longer. Whether it crumbles or endures may depend on le nif evolving from a rigid symbol of cultural pride into a generative force for national renewal and regional cooperation.