“For the first time, North Africans will speak for ninety minutes, and it’s not football,” jokes Azzeddine Ahmed-Chaouch. The journalist, well known to the faithful of “Quotidien”, thus presents, to 20 minutes, The Arab in the postthe documentary he created with Youcef Khmane broadcast this Tuesday from 9:25 p.m. on TMC.
“It’s a French story,” he continues more seriously. It is about showing “a part of the national story which, for once, is told by those concerned, the North African people, of the first, second or third generation. » With archive images and testimonies from personalities (the journalist Rachid Arhab, the actors Younès Boucif, Ramzy and Melha Bedia, the politician Rachida Dati, the director Mehdi Charef, the historian Naïma Yahi…) it retraces decades of television representations but also the evolution of mentalities and the forms that stigmatization can take, in France, since the end of the Second World War. A part of the story that resonates intimately with the experience of Azzeddine Ahmed-Chaouch. Interview.
What prompted you to work on this documentary?
This comes from a long reflection stemming from my personal trajectory. Since I started doing some airtime with “Quotidien”, I have noticed that many people of North African origin put a little hope in me or consider me as a spokesperson. This further fueled my feeling that there is a problem with representation, with visibility, in the media. For two years I have been thinking about this subject. I proposed this documentary to Bangumi last year and I was told go.
This documentary is part of a form of journalism little practiced in France, so-called “situated” journalism, that is to say that the journalist is, in a certain way, personally involved in the subject covered. Was that obvious?
Quite quickly, we said to ourselves that it would have been strange to go and interview people without interviewing myself. There was an idea of exploration at the premiere. I am the trigger for the subject and I wanted to reflect on my own story. We pushed the exercise as far as possible, to the point of interviewing my mother.
And what does that do?
It’s disturbing at first. I didn’t give him the questions in advance. She knew that I was making a documentary on the image of North Africans in France, on their place in society, visibility… I was relaxed but, for her, it wasn’t easy, she was under pressure. This film is almost a psychoanalysis of the North Africans of France. There is a constant in North African families: we like to laugh but we talk very little about ourselves, there is a taboo on what we think, we very rarely go to see psychologists… There, the idea was to spend a little everyone at the table. Talking about childhood, the relationship with parents, the obstacles encountered. This was new to some of the speakers.
What would you say to people who think this topic should have been covered by someone not involved?
I would say that in this case we must ask ourselves the question on all other subjects. Because I am of North African origin, I could not be objective or ask the right questions? This is an insulting argument. On the contrary, it allows me to ask more direct questions, without anyone being able to accuse me of a certain form of racism. When I ask Count de Bouderbala if we can laugh at everything about the Arabs, I think that no one else can ask him, because that would perhaps be frowned upon. When I use humor on the subject, it’s self-deprecating. I’m a real journalist, so I do journalistic work. My personal story, the fact that I am concerned by the subject, allows me to go further in questioning. The subject of hair, for example, is linked to things that I have experienced and that I can afford to submit to my interviewees. This shows the public a reality that they do not know.
Did you discover anything that surprised you while diving back into all these television archives?
I didn’t know Rachid who sang The little Arab. He was on all the TV sets and his song is amazing [« J’suis un p’tit beur mais sois tranquille, j’viendrais pas voler ton argent »]. He thinks he’s denouncing prejudices but, without realizing it, poor guy, he accentuates them or puts them back in the spotlight. It tells of an era, that of La Zoubida, by Pierre Péchin who does the sketch “The cicada and the ant” with a strong accent. Be careful, as historian Naïma Yahi points out, it would be anachronistic to say that these people are accountable. La Zoubida, for example, I sang it in the schoolyard even though the lyrics can be associated with stigma. But these archives allow us to understand the period we lived through.
Rachid Ahrab intervenes in the documentary. He was the first journalist of North African origin in charge of presenting a television news program in France. Is he an important figure in your vocation as a journalist?
My father watched all the television news, 19/20THE 20 hours then the Evening 3. He bought the newspaper in the morning, listened to the radio. I was flooded with information and I loved the news. But my father told me that I couldn’t become a journalist because there was no place, that I didn’t have a career. In 1998, I was 16 years old, France had just won the World Cup and I saw Rachid Ahrab come on the air. It uninhibited me, I said to myself that it was possible. He created a vocation in me, he allowed me to believe in it. A high school math teacher assured me that I would never become a journalist. In the doc, I politely say that she explained to me that I didn’t have the codes but, in reality, her comments were more racist and direct than that.
Do you feel like you are a role model for young people of North African origin aspiring to become journalists?
Today, there are journalists of North African origin on television but they remain an exception, there are not many. When I’m in the street, I’m not the best known, but people of Algerian, Tunisian or Moroccan origin know what I’ve done. There’s a kind of feeling of pride because we’re not on set much today. We’re happy when we inspire someone, when a kid thinks it’s possible. But I don’t want to be anyone’s spokesperson.
What was your path to entering the profession?
It was very classic. I followed what was written in the student fair booklets: three years of college plus journalism school. So I did two years of law, a year of political science and the Marseille school. Afterwards, I did my internships, I had my first permanent contract at Le Parisien, then I successively joined M6, Bangumi and “Quotidien”.
Have you encountered any obstacles in the profession due to your origins?
This happened to me only once, in a large editorial office, with an editor-in-chief, who every day made me feel… (the sentence remains in suspense) Although it was my delusion to arrive every morning with a bottle of olive oil in hand (laughs). It was a difficult time, I hadn’t prepared for it. As the editorial management was unable to protect me, I decided to leave. That’s also when I started to tell myself that one day I would write or do something. It was structuring, triggering. I hadn’t had this career, these five years of higher education, my parents hadn’t instilled in me Republican values so that I would let an individual ruin my life.