Pedro Tabensky is the founding director of the Allan Gray Centre for Leadership Ethics (AGLE), part of the Department of Philosophy at Rhodes University. The book is within this institute's great lines.
This book compares two pivotal figures during the horrific Algerian War of Independence, Albert Camus and Frantz Fanon while hindering ethical leadership. The author presents a passionate opposition between these two intellectual figures who have not lived long but impacted so much their times. We read two visions in one book, where Tabensky contextualizes intricate and different philosophical themes, but clearly favours Camus' vision over Fanon's. He asserts: “I am also critical of Camus, particularly given his Eurocentric distortions, but I argue that his philosophy of rebellion is in the end better able to help us navigate the impasse between acquiescence to oppressor violence and unrestrained murder aimed at liberation” (11).
Tabensky blames Fanon for the long-term effects of violence as this latter saw violence as a unique salvation for independence. He declares: “The options, it seems, were either the corruption of capitulation or the corruption of the revolutionary path. Neither option offers us the way towards Fanon's New Man Elysium” (32-33).
Tabensky does not see any arrival of a New Man after a cruel revolution, on the contrary, he sees that the dictatorship of the proletariat generates oppressive totalitarian rule. He prefers, however, Camus' vision for his non-idealization of heroes and his warning against allowing the rebellion to transmute into revolution as it is more disgusting. He explains this idea with Camus' character, Sisyphus, who is not concerned with admiration but rather with a practical reconciliation with the human condition.
Tabensky asserts: “We shall see that his ethics is one of approximation rather than perfection” (107). He continues explaining how Sisyphus is so different from Fanon's New Man: “Sisyphus, unlike the New Man, informs his actions not by a picture of what is to come but by a lucid understanding of what follows from the original act of protesting against injustice” (107).
Tabensky expounds on Camus’ philosophy of moderation so brightly, like the negation of moralist certainty and inflexible beliefs of the yogi. All is in diversion with Fanon, who, according to the author, is “blind to the long-term effects of the violence” (23), where the planned perfect society turns into a nightmarish one.
Reading Camus’ imagined answer to Fanon's A Dying Colonialism is also original. (108) It is a meaningful section as the author imagines Camus responding to Fanon from his grave and giving his father’s example in WW1 when he exclaimed in the views of horror that “A man doesn't do that” (Camus, 2013a [1994], p. 51-52) in French, it sounds even more powerful than that: “Non, un homme ça s'empêche” (Camus, 1994, p. 77).
This “No” of outrage that is expressed in The First Man is explained magnificently by Tabensky. He affirms: “Fidelity to our values, to what we stand for, to what caused the no of outrage is what differentiates the Rebel from the Revolutionary” (116). The “no” affirms that “things had gone on long enough and there was a limit that could not be crossed”. (140) Sisyphus is someone who, within the absurd, learns to develop the sense of observation that annihilates any thought of revolution.
According to Fanon, Camus is no more than an apologist for the status quo. (Tabensky, 2023, p. 110) Fanon reflects on Camus, a protector of colonialism in Algeria, as it is hard to avoid his compromised pied-noir perspective. He considers Camus ideal type, Sisyphus, the victim of thoughtless and unproductive efforts. Tabensky argues here on the central philosophical disagreements between the two philosophers. He states:
“Sisyphus is, for Camus, a representation of his ideal moral type -the absurd man- someone who, despite being condemned to roll a stone up a hill, watch it roll down from the top, only to recommence the endless cycle anew, refuses to capitulate, that is refuses to let his futile condition define him as someone defeated by nihilism” (106).
Fanon believed that the only way to achieve freedom was through the use of violence. This was because he felt that the enemy could not be trusted.
For him, Sisyphus should turn into a revolutionary because the “yes” hidden behind the “no” of rebellion (108) will maintain the status quo. Accordingly, the author links revolution to Frantz Fanon and rebellion to Albert Camus.
The words “justice” and “injustice” are recurrent in The First Man. Justice is even the last word in this book, but surprisingly, the famous quote by Camus, “I believe in justice, but I will defend my mother before justice”, is missing, though it encapsulates the idiosyncratic humanity of this author and also consists as an analogous idea with Fanon. Tabensky is so much blaming him for letting truth dwindling into insignificance when working for El Moudjahid newspaper and lying on the killing circumstances of some Algerian heroes (41) during the process of liberation.
In this investigation of intricate ethical issues and all the expenses loyalty may demand, Tabensky declares: “Being a loyal cadre, it seems, involves a commitment to expedient dishonesty, even when it meant helping to cover up the murder of a friend.” (38). We have no clear evidence for this event as there are many hypotheses concerning this event, and none of them have been verified. Even if we suppose this is true, Camus' quote above also clearly levels up personal relationships over the notion of justice. The support of one's mother consists of compromising with great values such as justice.
This book deserves to be read because we have these two types of Man in every liberation history. It is giving an alternative to violence when confronting the absurd. It explores the ethical, political, and psychological realms of Camus' and Fanon's philosophies during the Algerian War of Independence. This war served as a crucible to test people and lead to a considerable transformation. The book shows an apparent disagreement in what concerns conflict resolution. Fanon advocates radical means for emancipation and liberation; in contrast, Camus advocates a moderate position to distance unrestricted violence. Both positions are pertinent in current wars for justice and liberation.
Tabensky is convinced that neither Fanon nor Camus seems to propose a way out of the deadlock (141). In the book's last paragraph, he invites us to avoid the temptation of choosing one horn (151). In this dilemma, I think that though he felt the sharpness of the two horns, he is already bleeding with one horn, with the Camus' horn. Anyone who reads this book will undoubtedly identify with either Fanon or Camus. This is one of the strengths of the book. I am also bleeding with one after reading this book. Some people are incapable of violence even in the worst situations, while others are easily driven depending on many factors and circumstances. But the author incites us to return to the originating act of rebellion because many things are discovered there.
In conclusion, Pedro Tabensky's Camus and Fanon on the Algerian Question: An Ethics of Rebellion is a fascinating and intellectually inspiring work that allows readers to reflect on ethical dimensions, especially during our tumultuous time. The book is meticulously crafted, with a focus on historical narratives. Tabensky offers insights into the challenges of the Algerian War, which contribute to a nuanced understanding of the socio-political context that shaped Camus and Fanon's perspectives.
Tabensky's research is put eloquently to expose his discerning analysis. He brings a thought-provoking exploration of the ethical and moral complexities of rebellion, leaving readers with a profound appreciation for the enduring relevance of Camus and Fanon's ideas in our contemporary world.
Neema GHENIM
