Tomorrow They Won't Dare to Murder Us by Joseph Andras
Today we’re talking about Tomorrow They Won’t Dare to Murder Us by Joseph Andras., translated by Simon Leser, published by Verso in 2021.
Then the cock crowed
This morning they dared to
They dared to murder you.
In the fortress of our bodies
May our ideal live on
Mingled with your blood
So that tomorrow they won’t dare
They won’t dare to murder us.
Review
On February 11, 1957, Fernand Iveton was executed by guillotine in Algeria. Working with the FLN (National Liberation Front), he attempted to plant a bomb inside of a factory, set to detonate when it was empty. But he was caught immediately, imprisoned, and sentenced to death.
Despite the fact that the bomb never went off, and no one was harmed, he never received the pardon many expected. He was the only “European” (Iveton was a “pied-noir”, born in Algeria to European parents) put to death during the Algerian War of Independece—he was used by the French state to make a point about “traitors” who chose to side with the oppressed.
“the authorities intend to execute him. But he hasn’t killed anyone. It makes no sense. The powerful are just blowing their horn, that’s all, raising their voices to make an example of him.”
Joseph Andras’ Tomorrow They Won’t Dare to Murder Us is a novelization of this real-life event. We follow Iveton from the moment he attempts to plant the bomb, through the torture he endured at the hands of the police, his trial and imprisonment, and up until the moment he is murdered by the state.
The chapters alternate between the present narrative, as outlined above, and a previous timeline that follows the story of Fernand and his wife Helene—a love story. We see how they met in France, quickly fell in love, and came to be together in Algeria. This also takes us, more or less, up to the moment the present narrative starts.
This is a very short book and a quick read. There are no dialogue breaks or quotation marks. As mentioned, chapters alternate between timelines, and alternating paragraphs sometimes jump back and forth between characters. All of this led to a bit of friction at the start, but once I caught on to the rhythm and organization of the storyline, it felt smooth.
Despite how quickly and succinctly we move through the narrative, Andras manages to write some very tender, lyrical lines—especially when we move into the love story portion.
Bodies are seldom thought of when this thing is born in the belly’s depths. This unnamed thing no word can approximate or identify, this thing (the most appropriate term, in the end, for those first times out of time). A vague, crazy thing of vapors, fumaroles, ether, routing every attempt at rationality. A thing we know to be soaked in illusions, fineries, gildings and sands of an instant, but which we fasten onto and give it everything headlong, that thing, yes.
Ultimately, Tomorrow They Won’t Dare to Murder Us is the story of a man who chose to fight for liberation, intent on doing it in a way that both kept to his morals (refusal to harm civilians and bystanders), while decisively taking action against a colonial oppressor (France), and—most importantly—in solidarity with Algerians.
This book is full of emotion, though it comes at you so fast, it might not register until the end. Here, there is fear, hope, fury, and love.
And it leaves you, the reader, not with a neat bow on a past event, but with an opportunity to consider other liberation movements happening today. How do you perceive history vs the present moment?
Fernand had gotten fed up with the endless debate and procrastinations: Algeria was at war, they had to open their eyes, face up to reality and stop being afraid of confrontation…But the Party didn’t budge from its position, it couldn’t decide what to do: it was for independence, but not for armed struggle. But how else could independence be won, in this context?
Further Reading:
Interview with the author — (“I have no illusions about what a book can do: almost nothing. Social upheavals are the affair of bodies in action. But everywhere and for all time, bodies are nourished by ideas. Either directly or in a more diffuse manner. And this, “almost,” for now, prevents me from succumbing to darkness.”)
Iveton’s letter, dated February 8, 1957, just days before his execution
An excerpt from the book on Verso’s blog
Get the Book
A young revolutionary plants a bomb in a factory on the outskirts of Algiers during the Algerian War. The bomb is timed to explode after work hours, so no one will be hurt. But the authorities have been watching. He is caught, the bomb is defused, and he is tortured, tried in a day and sentenced to death by guillotine. A routine event, perhaps, in a brutal conflict that ended the lives of more than a million Muslim Algerians.
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