Women’s Section, April 2007 

Special Interview with Asma Belkhodja Rebaï (Part I)

“When I got arrested, I wasn’t wearing a ‘sefsari’…” (1)

Continuing the celebration of the National Women’s History Month, this first issue of TCC Women’s Section presents a special interview series with ‘al munaadhila’, (the female militant), Mme Asma Belkhodja Rebaï, who fought for the independence of Tunisia from the French protectorate, contributed to the emancipation of the Tunisian woman, and took several social and political positions for over fifty years.

Alla Asma – as her immediate entourage likes to call her -- is born on January 16, 1930 in Hammam-Lif, one of the suburbs of Tunis. She participated in the first world Peace Congress that was held in Tunis. She was arrested during the heavy street demonstrations of February 15, 1952 that were strongly repressed by the French police. She is also one of the founding members of the National Union of Tunisian Women (UNFT).

This interview gives us an opportunity to get to know Mrs. Asma Belkhodja Rebaï and her invaluable work for Tunisia a little closely. I had the immense pleasure to conduct the interview in Tunisian dialect at her home residence in Carthage on Tuesday, February 6, 2007. With her charismatic presence, her love of communication, and her passion for the cause of women and her country, Tunisia, Alla Asma made my afternoon delightful. Here is a rendering of the first part of the interview in English. Enjoy it!

Rym Bettaieb*

Rym Bettaieb: In Manaarat al-Fajr (1) by Essaida Doulgayed, you said: “And then I started to get a feel of what my cause is. I was never able to express my opinion to my father or refute his. I had to wear the ‘sefsari’ like a hijab at a very young age and I couldn’t say ‘No’” (44). What did you mean with “my cause”? Could you clarify that?

Alla Asma: In reality, my cause is that I couldn’t say ‘no’ just as I couldn’t say ‘yes’. I mean if I were a boy, my father would have let me go to school. I have always carried this painful feeling about not having gone to school (pause). When I grew up and my father passed away, the first thing I did was to register in a Franco-Arab school that taught private classes to girls who wanted to continue their education. My father did bring me a male teacher at home, so, I had some background in the Arabic language. He had also brought in Mademoiselle Lambroso who taught me along with my sisters the French language. Then, I used to check Le Petit Robert (3) in the Franco-Arab school as well as other books, and I learned a lot about Arabic and French literature. I also read at home and continued until I was an adult. I read some of the stories to my children like the ones of Arsèle Lupin (4) or Al-Warda al-Maftouha (5) (The Blooming Rose). I also used to read to them about gardening because my husband loved flowers.

R.B: After 1945, you became an active member of ‘Al Ittihaad annissaayi al-islaamyi’ (The Islamic Women’s Union) (6). Among the activities of the Club, you and other members helped Tunisian students in France by writing them encouragement letters, knitting them pullovers, etc. How was the reaction of the students to such gestures?

Alla Asma: This is quite far in time but what I remember is that the first thing they did is they replied to anyone who wrote them. They wanted to get acquainted with us.  We once gathered in the space of the Association of North African Students and the girls of the Islamic Women’s Union were invited.  I used to be ahead of my peer members. For instance, I didn’t wear the ‘sefsari’ in the presence of men. Besides, I used to deal with men with great ease. At that time, it was not common for men and women to mingle in public. I interacted with men without any discomfort. The Islamic Women’s Union used to have interesting activities but I felt that this Union was too narrow for me. So, I got out from it and from its limitations. At that time, there was colonization and the battle against colonization. The truth is that for me, there were two battles: one for my country and one for women. I felt the two battles concerned me personally.

A Portrait of Asma Belkhodja Rebaï in 1966

R.B: How did joining The Tunisian Liberal Constitutional Party or Destour (8) change the manner of your fighting or the nature of your activities? What were the limitations of the Islamic Women’s Union back then?

Alla Asma: The limitations of the Islamic Women’s Union were already within its name: ‘al islamyii’ (Islamic). I didn’t believe in this limited framework. I believed in the fight of women against all traditions that held them prisoners.  For instance B’chira Ben Mrad, the president of the Islamic Women’s Union used to veil herself and I believe she never stopped. When I stopped wearing the ‘sefsari’, she didn’t. She had her own reasons, though; her father used to be an Islamic Sheikh (9) and my family used to have many Sheikhs in the mosque, too. In fact, there wasn’t a sharia law that didn’t carry the name of Belkhodja.

My father studied at the Sadquia School (10) and my uncle as well but they had started moving away from the mosque. However, B’chira Ben Mrad’s father was an Islamic Sheikh, and he wrote Al Hidaad ala Imra’at al Haddad (Mourning on the Woman of Haddad) (11) when Tahar Haddad asked women to change their condition and invited men to provide equal education benefits to girls and boys, and to treat them equally in the house and in society. This is what Tahar Haddad preached: he said women and men were to be treated equally. For instance, there was a tradition in Tunis during the Eid Seghir (12) that was discriminatory.  The child who wished an adult “Aid mabrouk!”(Happy Eid), received a ‘mahba’ (13) that doubled in amount for boys. So, if a girl received 500 millimes, a boy received one dinar (14).  

R.B: You fought along with Trade Union militant Ferhat Hached (15) in many activities in the context of the ‘league againt expensive living’ and you gave once a speech in the name of the Tunisian woman. What was the relationship between women and economics at that time?

Alla Asma: In reality, what used to unite men and women was our nationalist feeling. Women used to have the mentality of working even though they lacked education. In some agricultural areas, men used to sit and sip their tea while women collected water and wood. Ferhat Hached to whom I was tied with a strong friendship, created the Tunisian General Workers Union (UGTT) (16). I used to go out on May 1^st (International Labor Day) and participate in the march of workers. Initially, it was only for male workers and women were left out. Ferhat, Allah yarhmou (Peace be upon his soul), would take me with him. When confrontations happened between the French colonizers and Tunisian workers in the Cap Bon area (17)   --   I believe in 1948 or 1949 – the colonizers killed some workers. Ferhat Hached, Allah yarhmou, did the farq (18) --   usually held in the deceased’s house – in my house… in Belkhodja’s house in Hammam-Lif… in Daar Asma (in a low voice). Obviously, I did ask for my mother’s permission as my father was dead, and my maternal uncle was very open-minded. So we did the fark of the martyr workers in our house.

Ferhat Hached… Ferhat Hached (she repeats his name with emotion) used to feel kinship towards the Tunisian woman in an unimaginable manner. We were close friends; he always made me participate in the work he accomplished. The speech that I gave in the name of women was in the name of the Islamic Women’s Union. Because she was fearful of her father, of the colonizer, and of the police, B’chira Ben Mrad used to send me to meetings with the UGTT. That made my strength.

Ferhat Hached would give a speech and I would give one also. We created strong ties between men and women.  Ferhat Hached used to share with me whatever he read. He used to explain to me the meaning of a labor union, nationalism, capitalism, the Neo Tunisian Destour, and the Tunisian General Workers Union (UGTT). All of these notions concerned us because they were related to our country. Ferhat Hached raised these issues even abroad when he attended meetings of the International Confederation of Free Trade Unions (ICFTU) (19) which included the United States and England.               

Cover of the book Mémoire de Femmes published by CRÉDIF in 1993

(Asma Belkhodja is pictured with Ferhat Hached in a street demonstration)

Alla Asma:  The hardships were mainly present to my male comrades but I was also motivated and dared to distribute newspapers that were banned. I used to sell membership cards to collect money for the Destour. The members of the Party used to warn me against the dangers of my activity but I did not feel scared. I also participated in many demonstrations. I was a member of the committee presided by Hassouna Al Karoui (Pause). It’s been years now and I don’t remember its name… Oh, yes, the Committee of Social Solidarity. We used to even knock at people’s houses to receive contributions, but I wasn’t on my own. 

R.B: Was it during daytime or night time that you did this?

Alla Asma: It was in daytime. Many girls participated and at that time families were strict so they didn’t like their daughters to walk from house to house with a ‘barouita’ (20) and ask for money contributions. I remember one year we had a very cold winter and people died in the streets… I remember seeing bodies under the arcades in Bab Bhar (21). Hassouna Al Karoui who belonged to the Destour constituted a social committee to which I belonged with others. There were a few tasks that were assigned to women as most represented danger. Some tasks would entitle the police to call us, to investigate us, and to write a report. So, it wasn’t easy. It was common to go home in the afternoon and find the police waiting for you. They would ask you to whom you gave a membership card, who sent you, etc. All of this would make the Party very careful in choosing its female members. Women from Metouia were very trustworthy…Women from the Sahel as well… Women from the capital were less trustworthy (as she lowers her voice). 

Asma Belkhodja Rebaï in 1956 with the first Moroccan ambassador in Tunis 

R.B: After the uproars of 1952, the French protectorate ruling in Tunisia arrested you and brought you to the civil and military court. Then the Court condemned you to one year and a half of jail from February 15, 1952 to March 1953. You were among the first demonstrators holding high and proudly the Tunisian flag. Some of the demonstrators threw grenades and injured the French police.  How was your reaction to your arrest? How did the period you spent in jail change your outlook on the resistance movement, the Tunisian woman and life in general?

Alla Asma: In 1952, there were more militant women. When I entered jail, there were already other women in it – of all ages. As the number of women increased, we participated in more activities. There was an activity every day. We used to take food to prisoners, participate in demonstrations, and distribute newspapers that were banned by the colonizer because they contained true facts. For instance, the French police would arrest eighteen militants and write in the press it caught only two. We had a daily agenda. However, and I say this regretfully, the women’s organization that was accredited by the government at that time, the Islamic Women’s Union, did not get involved because B’chira Ben Mrad, its president, didn’t want to do politics. When the police called her, she cleared herself from any political involvement. She was a nationalist but not every nationalist woman got involved in political activities at that time. Personally, I didn’t want to clear myself from my political activism.

I remember when I was in jail, my paternal cousin used to visit me in the Baccouche Ministery (22).  He was the minister of justice and a former lawyer. He suggested I write a letter saying that I didn’t participate in the demonstration and they would release me because I was from Belkhodja’s family (pause).  I refused. At that time, even a demonstration one didn’t participate in, one couldn’t clear oneself from because of previous participations in many demonstrations.  I participated in the huge one on February 15; it was important because we had reached the doors of the French Governor’s Residence.  

There were boys from Raas Ettabia (23) who carried local grenades, they had hand-manufactured them and had walked with us in the demonstration as I was holding the Tunisian flag. I had come down from Hammam-Lif that morning in a taxi. At that time, all taxi drivers were foreigners. I didn’t pay attention to the driver. I went to Bab Souika (24) and walked to the headquarters of the ‘hizb’ (Tunisian Party). Then, from the ‘hizb’, we walked to the Zaitouna Mosque (25) where I made a speech addressing Tunisian women and we all left. I was carrying the Tunisian flag at the head of the march as we arrived in front of the Residence. Some men threw out grenades and injured the French police (pause). In the blink of an eye … in a light’s speed … I saw everything black around me. There were policemen everywhere… I was amazed at the speed they had surrounded us with… I was caught in front of the Residence.

There was a small street and a church in front of it. I was taken in front of the church. When I got arrested, I wasn’t wearing a ‘sefsari’…No … Since my father passed away, I had stopped wearing it. Since the police had thrown the tear gas at us, I was all covered with blood… all of me… My coat was new at that time and I was upset that it got ruined and my pantyhose was torn (we both start laughing)!! The French police gathered us and was hitting many women right before my eyes. I was traumatized by what I saw and I can assure you that the number of policemen that got hurt was smaller than the number of the demonstrators I saw beaten up. Blood was everywhere… bloodied faces … It was so painful to watch that you wished you were also beaten. The men were really badly beaten up and the women were struck with the wooden end of the rifles. One hit could easily break your bones.

I stayed in the commissariat for five days and then a policeman showed up and said: “This is the one we need.” So, I thought: “Oh, my God! Why me only? Why?” We were fifteen in the room. I was nervous because we had heard about the bloody Tazerka incidents (26).  So, I left with him and I found in the other room the taxi driver that had driven me that morning to Bab Souika. He had come as a witness against me. He said he had seen me carrying the Tunisian flag in Bab Bhar in front of the Governor’s Residence. He also snatched my necklace off my chest because it had a Tunisian flag pendant. Later on, he gave it back to me but I didn’t want it anymore (she looks sad while she lights a cigarette) it was in gold…

So, we stayed five days in the commissariat. They say the clashes lasted three days and I heard them going on for five days. They told me it wasn’t true but I know I heard them for five days. Then, I was called to court (she coughs). At that time, court was still under the French protectorate so there was the ‘driba’ which was Tunisian and run by Tunisian judges; and the Court that was run by French judges and lawyers that studied in France and held French degrees. The French liberated many of the arrested people; they bailed some out, and moved others to the military court because there were French soldiers that got injured during the demonstration. We were seven women in the ‘wouqouf’ (arrested) and to pass in front of the military court, but the men outnumbered us.

R.B: Did you know some of them well?

Alla Asma: No. However, while I was in jail, there were other women that came in. Amongst them, Zakia bent Al bey who had initiated a divorce lawsuit against her husband... She arrived in the car of the Bey. She was the only one I knew. Later on, Maître Jean Galleau (27) came in and defended me. They let me out the same day. He came in on March 15^th and they let me out on March 15. Maître Galleau defended me and another man called Mokhtar Attia who was sentenced to twenty years of forced labor by the military court.

Then, a few years later, Pierre Mendès France (28) came to Tunis and proclaimed the independence of Tunisia. So we lived the independence time -- your generation was not born yet or still young but we lived that euphoric time. We lived through the militant time during colonization, and we lived fifty years after the independence. Today, I can assure you that your militant work is harder than ours because our work was against foreign colonialism, and we had only one enemy. Today, you have several enemies.

(To be continued…)

Notes:

(1) A white veil that women used to wear to go out. It’s scarcely worn nowadays

(2) Manaaraat al-Fajr, meaning The Lights of Dawn by Saida Doulgayed, is a book that compiles the lives of Tunisian militant women that participated in the political life from 1900-1956. It was published in Tunis in 2006.

(3) A French dictionary.

(4)  A famous character of French comics.

(5) A series of children’s stories in Arabic.

(6) A women’s organization created in the 1940s by B’chira Ben Mrad that focused on social charity works. B’chira Ben Mrad later translated Tahar Haddad’s teachings into action.

(7) I thank Asma Belkhodja Rebaï and Sophie Rebaï, her daughter, for kindly lending me their photographs in Tunis; and Houcine Horchani, my nephew, for scanning them and saving them on a disk.

(8) This Party was created on May 21, 1921 by the cheikh Abdelaziz Thaalbi. It reclaimed the constitutional rights that Tunisia had before the era of the French protectorate and asked for the independence of Tunisia.

(9) The title was supposed to be bestowed upon those followers of the Qur’an who acquired deep knowledge of its principles as well as of different views of prominent scholars and thus may carry over the laws extracted from the text unto others.

(10) A college founded   in 1875 and 1876 by Khayr  al-Din. Its curriculum, which included modern sciences and languages, was taught in Arabic and French.

(11) This is a response to the polemical book published by Tahar Haddad in 1930. Tahar Haddad was a modernizing islamic reformer who called for freeing women from all their traditional bonds and wrote Our Women in the Shari 'a and Society, a book in which he advocated formal education for women and asked for the change of Islamic laws regarding women.

(12) A holiday celebrated at the end of Ramadan.

(13) Money given to children the day of the Eid.

(14) One dinar equals 75 cents. Five hundred millimes equal half a dinar.

(15) Tunisian labour leader assassinated by a French terrorist group in December 1952.

(16) National Labor Union founded on January 20, 1946 by Ferhat Hached.

(17) A peninsula in far northeastern Tunisia.

(18) Third day after the death of a person, which means ‘separation’. Family and relatives gather in the home of the deceased to grieve together.

(19) The International Confederation of Free Trade Unions (ICFTU), was set up in 1949 and has 241 affiliated organizations in 156 countries and territories on all five continents, with a membership of 155 million, 40% of whom are women.

(20) A wheelbarrow.

(21) Also called Porte de France or French Gate. It is the eastern gate of the medina (the old city).

(22) Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

(23) A suburb of Tunis.

(24) One of the doors of the Medina. It was demolished in 1861 and was located between Bab al-Khadra and Bab Saadoun, near  the neighborhood of Halfaouine. It gave its name to the neighborhood.

(25) A mosque and university founded in Tunis by Numan al-Ghassani inn 698. It flourished in the 13^th century under the Hafsid dynasty. Ibn Khaldun, the first social historian in history was one of its products.

(26) Violent clashes between Tunisian militants and French forces.

(27) A French lawyer that defended Asma Belkhodja in 1953.

(28) French Minister of State, Mendès France, was a consistent opponent of  French colonialism. He came to an agreement with Habib Bourguiba, the nationalist leader in Tunisia, for the independence of that colony by 1956.

*Rym Bettaieb is an Adjunct Lecturer of English and Arabic at Drew University in Madison, NJ.  She is currently pursuing her PhD in English Literature with a Concentration in Women’s Studies.