Latest news with #Algeria


Arab News
an hour ago
- Politics
- Arab News
Bermuda shorts, beachwear and a local ban divide Algerian town
CHETAIBI: A scenic beach town on Algeria's Mediterranean coastline has become the center of a clash over men's bathing suits, pitting religious and conservative values against tourist a town of 8,000 known for its turquoise waters, rocky coves, and forested hills, draws thousands of Algerian beachgoers each summer. Seasonal tourism is a cornerstone of the local economy.'The mood is warm, welcoming, colorful, bustling — no hostility toward bathers, not in words, not in looks. People here have a tradition of hospitality,' said Salah Edine Bey, a longtime his view, there was little sign of controversy, until there this month, some vacationers and business owners were caught off guard when the town's mayor issued a decree banning beachgoers from walking around in Bermuda shorts, calling the attire indecent in contrast to the longer, looser shorts preferred by conservative male beachgoers.'These summer outfits disturb the population, they go against our society's moral values and sense of decency,' Mayor Layachi Allaoua wrote.'The population can no longer tolerate seeing foreigners wandering the streets in indecent clothing,' he added, referencing visitors from elsewhere in order sparked immediate backlash from officials, including in the regional capital Annaba, who called on the mayor to revoke mayor reversed the decree within two days. On Facebook, he insisted his order wasn't driven by Islamist pressure, but by a desire to preserve 'peace and tranquility' for both residents and the episode tapped into deeper tensions over religion, identity, and public space in a country that remains haunted by a civil war that killed an estimated 200,000 people throughout the 1990s. The conflict began in 1991, when the army canceled elections that an Islamist party was set to so-called 'black decade' ended long ago. But it left unresolved some underlying friction between political Islam and Algeria's military-backed secular state.'Even though Islamists lost the war in the 1990s, they never gave up on their invasive and intrusive ideological project, which has gained ground in society,' said sociologist Redouane Boudjemaâ.For some, the beach debate echoed that earlier era, when Islamist-run municipalities tried to reshape public life in line with religious doctrine. For many Algerians, particularly in underserved regions, political Islam remains popular not out of extremism, but as a reaction to corruption, inequality, and distrust in state institutions. While Islamist parties have mostly fared poorly at the ballot box, they play a large role in daily life, filling social and moral neighboring Jijel, residents have roped off parts of the beach for mass prayers, with videos of the scenes circulating online and dividing Halim Kabir, it's a stark reminder of the past. In the 1990s, Islamists who won local elections in Jijel imposed stricter rules on public behavior. Today, cars parked near the beach have been vandalized with warnings telling beachgoers to 'go sin elsewhere.''It's provocation,' Kabir said. 'An attempt to drive away visitors from other regions.'Said Boukhlifa, a former senior official at the Ministry of Tourism, warned that conservative groups are exploiting Algeria's economic troubles, as falling gas revenues strain the state, to expand their influence. That, he said, could undermine the country's ambitions to grow its tourism sector. For the latest updates, follow us on Instagram @
Yahoo
an hour ago
- Politics
- Yahoo
Bermuda shorts, beachwear and a local ban divide Algerian town
Algeria CHETAIBI, Algeria (AP) — A scenic beach town on Algeria's Mediterranean coastline has become the center of a clash over men's bathing suits, pitting religious and conservative values against tourist habits. Chetaïbi, a town of 8,000 known for its turquoise waters, rocky coves, and forested hills, draws thousands of Algerian beachgoers each summer. Seasonal tourism is a cornerstone of the local economy. 'The mood is warm, welcoming, colorful, bustling — no hostility toward bathers, not in words, not in looks. People here have a tradition of hospitality,' said Salah Edine Bey, a longtime resident. In his view, there was little sign of controversy, until there was. Earlier this month, some vacationers and business owners were caught off guard when the town's mayor issued a decree banning beachgoers from walking around in Bermuda shorts, calling the attire indecent in contrast to the longer, looser shorts preferred by conservative male beachgoers. 'These summer outfits disturb the population, they go against our society's moral values and sense of decency,' Mayor Layachi Allaoua wrote. 'The population can no longer tolerate seeing foreigners wandering the streets in indecent clothing," he added, referencing visitors from elsewhere in Algeria. The order sparked immediate backlash from officials, including in the regional capital Annaba, who called on the mayor to revoke it. The mayor reversed the decree within two days. On Facebook, he insisted his order wasn't driven by Islamist pressure, but by a desire to preserve 'peace and tranquility' for both residents and guests. Still, the episode tapped into deeper tensions over religion, identity, and public space in a country that remains haunted by a civil war that killed an estimated 200,000 people throughout the 1990s. The conflict began in 1991, when the army canceled elections that an Islamist party was set to win. The so-called 'black decade' ended long ago. But it left unresolved some underlying friction between political Islam and Algeria's military-backed secular state. 'Even though Islamists lost the war in the 1990s, they never gave up on their invasive and intrusive ideological project, which has gained ground in society,' said sociologist Redouane Boudjemaâ. For some, the beach debate echoed that earlier era, when Islamist-run municipalities tried to reshape public life in line with religious doctrine. For many Algerians, particularly in underserved regions, political Islam remains popular not out of extremism, but as a reaction to corruption, inequality, and distrust in state institutions. While Islamist parties have mostly fared poorly at the ballot box, they play a large role in daily life, filling social and moral voids. In neighboring Jijel, residents have roped off parts of the beach for mass prayers, with videos of the scenes circulating online and dividing opinion. For Halim Kabir, it's a stark reminder of the past. In the 1990s, Islamists who won local elections in Jijel imposed stricter rules on public behavior. Today, cars parked near the beach have been vandalized with warnings telling beachgoers to 'go sin elsewhere.' 'It's provocation,' Kabir said. 'An attempt to drive away visitors from other regions.' Said Boukhlifa, a former senior official at the Ministry of Tourism, warned that conservative groups are exploiting Algeria's economic troubles, as falling gas revenues strain the state, to expand their influence. That, he said, could undermine the country's ambitions to grow its tourism sector. Solve the daily Crossword

Associated Press
an hour ago
- Politics
- Associated Press
Bermuda shorts, beachwear and a local ban divide Algerian town
CHETAIBI, Algeria (AP) — A scenic beach town on Algeria's Mediterranean coastline has become the center of a clash over men's bathing suits, pitting religious and conservative values against tourist habits. Chetaïbi, a town of 8,000 known for its turquoise waters, rocky coves, and forested hills, draws thousands of Algerian beachgoers each summer. Seasonal tourism is a cornerstone of the local economy. 'The mood is warm, welcoming, colorful, bustling — no hostility toward bathers, not in words, not in looks. People here have a tradition of hospitality,' said Salah Edine Bey, a longtime resident. In his view, there was little sign of controversy, until there was. Earlier this month, some vacationers and business owners were caught off guard when the town's mayor issued a decree banning beachgoers from walking around in Bermuda shorts, calling the attire indecent in contrast to the longer, looser shorts preferred by conservative male beachgoers. 'These summer outfits disturb the population, they go against our society's moral values and sense of decency,' Mayor Layachi Allaoua wrote. 'The population can no longer tolerate seeing foreigners wandering the streets in indecent clothing,' he added, referencing visitors from elsewhere in Algeria. The order sparked immediate backlash from officials, including in the regional capital Annaba, who called on the mayor to revoke it. The mayor reversed the decree within two days. On Facebook, he insisted his order wasn't driven by Islamist pressure, but by a desire to preserve 'peace and tranquility' for both residents and guests. Still, the episode tapped into deeper tensions over religion, identity, and public space in a country that remains haunted by a civil war that killed an estimated 200,000 people throughout the 1990s. The conflict began in 1991, when the army canceled elections that an Islamist party was set to win. The so-called 'black decade' ended long ago. But it left unresolved some underlying friction between political Islam and Algeria's military-backed secular state. 'Even though Islamists lost the war in the 1990s, they never gave up on their invasive and intrusive ideological project, which has gained ground in society,' said sociologist Redouane Boudjemaâ. For some, the beach debate echoed that earlier era, when Islamist-run municipalities tried to reshape public life in line with religious doctrine. For many Algerians, particularly in underserved regions, political Islam remains popular not out of extremism, but as a reaction to corruption, inequality, and distrust in state institutions. While Islamist parties have mostly fared poorly at the ballot box, they play a large role in daily life, filling social and moral voids. In neighboring Jijel, residents have roped off parts of the beach for mass prayers, with videos of the scenes circulating online and dividing opinion. For Halim Kabir, it's a stark reminder of the past. In the 1990s, Islamists who won local elections in Jijel imposed stricter rules on public behavior. Today, cars parked near the beach have been vandalized with warnings telling beachgoers to 'go sin elsewhere.' 'It's provocation,' Kabir said. 'An attempt to drive away visitors from other regions.' Said Boukhlifa, a former senior official at the Ministry of Tourism, warned that conservative groups are exploiting Algeria's economic troubles, as falling gas revenues strain the state, to expand their influence. That, he said, could undermine the country's ambitions to grow its tourism sector.


Al Arabiya
an hour ago
- Politics
- Al Arabiya
Bermuda shorts, beachwear and a local ban divide Algerian town
A scenic beach town on Algeria's Mediterranean coastline has become the center of a clash over men's bathing suits, pitting religious and conservative values against tourist habits. Chetaïbi, a town of 8,000 known for its turquoise waters, rocky coves, and forested hills, draws thousands of Algerian beachgoers each summer. Seasonal tourism is a cornerstone of the local economy. 'The mood is warm, welcoming, colorful, bustling – no hostility toward bathers, not in words, not in looks. People here have a tradition of hospitality,' said Salah Edine Bey, a longtime resident. In his view, there was little sign of controversy until there was. Earlier this month, some vacationers and business owners were caught off guard when the town's mayor issued a decree banning beachgoers from walking around in Bermuda shorts, calling the attire indecent in contrast to the longer, looser shorts preferred by conservative male beachgoers. 'These summer outfits disturb the population; they go against our society's moral values and sense of decency,' Mayor Layachi Allaoua wrote. 'The population can no longer tolerate seeing foreigners wandering the streets in indecent clothing,' he added, referencing visitors from elsewhere in Algeria. The order sparked immediate backlash from officials, including in the regional capital Annaba, who called on the mayor to revoke it. The mayor reversed the decree within two days. On Facebook, he insisted his order wasn't driven by extremist pressure but by a desire to preserve peace and tranquility for both residents and guests. Still, the episode tapped into deeper tensions over religion, identity, and public space in a country that remains haunted by a civil war that killed an estimated 200,000 people throughout the 1990s. The conflict began in 1991 when the army canceled elections that an extremist party was set to win. The so-called black decade ended long ago, but it left unresolved some underlying friction between political Islam and Algeria's military-backed secular state. 'Even though extremists lost the war in the 1990s, they never gave up on their invasive and intrusive ideological project, which has gained ground in society,' said sociologist Redouane Boudjemaâ. For some, the beach debate echoed that earlier era when extremist-run municipalities tried to reshape public life in line with religious doctrine. For many Algerians, particularly in underserved regions, political Islam remains popular, not out of extremism but as a reaction to corruption, inequality, and distrust in state institutions. While extremist parties have mostly fared poorly at the ballot box, they play a large role in daily life, filling social and moral voids. In neighboring Jijel, residents have roped off parts of the beach for mass prayers, with videos of the scenes circulating online and dividing opinion. For Halim Kabir, it's a stark reminder of the past. In the 1990s, extremists who won local elections in Jijel imposed stricter rules on public behavior. Today, cars parked near the beach have been vandalized with warnings telling beachgoers to go sin elsewhere. 'It's provocation,' Kabir said, 'An attempt to drive away visitors from other regions.' Said Boukhlifa, a former senior official at the Ministry of Tourism, warned that conservative groups are exploiting Algeria's economic troubles as falling gas revenues strain the state to expand their influence. That, he said, could undermine the country's ambitions to grow its tourism sector.


Forbes
20 hours ago
- Business
- Forbes
From Algeria To The World: Local Voice Shapes African Decentralized AI
Crypto Ownership Growth by Region. Data Source: Triple-A. (Graphic by Visual Capitalist via Getty ... More Images) When people talk about the future of decentralized AI (DeAI), the conversation often gravitates toward technical infrastructure, such as blockchain-based protocols, large language models, dataset quality, privacy, and ethical standards. But underneath the model lies a far more human foundation: community, an integral part that transforms Decentralized AI from a concept into a practical utility, beyond mere narrative. In Algeria – Africa's largest country by land area, rich in natural resources and cultural heritage, bridging North Africa and the Arab world – that foundation has been quietly taking shape over the years, led by a volunteer voice few outside the region know. I spoke with Chabane MT Tarek, a local Algerian whose mother tongue is Arabic, an Economics and Accounting graduate, who's been captivated by the world of blockchain since 2013, and is now deeply engaged with the possibilities of DeAI. Chabane is a volunteer who devotes his time largely to the Crypto & AI community in Africa. He's helping shape Africa's presence in one of the most important technological movements of our time. We spoke about his personal journey through crypto, the on-the-ground realities of building community in Africa, and what it truly means to make DeAI (and AI in general) not just technically sound, but globally inclusive. 'I Entered Crypto In 2013, Out Of Curiosity.' When Chabane came across Bitcoin in 2013, 'There wasn't even a community. I read whitepapers, followed online forums, taught myself what I could,' he tells me. That curiosity would later evolve into conviction through Ethereum, ICOs, DeFi, and eventually, decentralized AI. 'I've seen hype come and go. What excites me now is infrastructure. Real, usable, and inclusive systems.' His discovery of DeAI came at a time when AI was becoming mainstream but also increasingly centralized. 'The decentralized AI model and infrastructure fascinated me. I realized this was something with true vision, especially considering the centralized hacks and setbacks the industry had gone through in 2016 and 2019." The Africa 'Playbook' and Misunderstanding Ask someone unfamiliar with the continent about 'tech in Africa', 'usage of AI in Africa', and chances are, you'll get vague generalizations. 'People forget this is a continent of 54 countries and over 2,000 languages,' Chabane says with a light tone and smile. 'What works in Ghana won't automatically work in Algeria.' In North Africa, Arabic is the primary language; in parts of central Africa, it's French or English; and elsewhere, the dominant digital language is English. But language is just one layer. 'To localize means more than translation: it means understanding people's behaviors, platforms, economics, even cultural comfort zones.' In Algeria, for instance, Twitter is not the go-to channel for tech discussion. Facebook is still where most online communities engage, something many international projects fail to grasp. Geographically, North Africa holds a unique position as a cultural and geopolitical bridge between sub-Saharan Africa and the MENA (Middle East and North Africa) region. 'Our location gives us a natural role in connecting two massive regions,' he explains. 'There's shared language with MENA, but we're also part of Africa's emerging tech narrative.' For decentralized AI to be truly global, regions like this can't be an afterthought. They have to be part of the foundation. When I ask why decentralized AI feels relevant in his region, Chabane doesn't hesitate. 'Because centralized AI has never served us fully. We've always been on the outside of the decision-making process, whether it's access to platforms, data rights, or even language inclusion.' Decentralized AI offers an alternative. It enables local data contributors to be rewarded, gives communities agency over their own digital narratives, and creates opportunities that aren't gatekept by borders or bandwidth. Chabane's current work on DeAI is entirely volunteer-driven. He organizes community events, translates technical content, supports education initiatives, and uses AI tools to craft locally relevant stories. "There's growing interest here. People want to be part of something global, yet something they can intuitively resonate with. They just need an entry point." Build Decentralized AI From Ground up It's easy to romanticize decentralization as a technical ideal, but this story reminds us: there's no decentralization without distribution across geographies, languages, and cultures. 'You can have the best protocol in the world,' Chabane opines, 'but if people in Algeria, Nigeria, South Africa, or rural Kenya can't understand and make sense of it, then it's not really decentralized.' Although building decentralized infrastructure for AI is still at its infancy, that future could also be closer than we think thanks to voices like his, building not from the top down, but from the ground up.