Colonists on holiday camp: trivialising occupation, erasing violence
From Tunis, Ilyes Bellagha offers a satirical and critical reflection on the way some descendants of colonists now return as tourists, trivialising occupation through exotic holidays. Tacky tourism turns this colonial nostalgia into a commodity, erasing the memory of peoples and the violence of the past.
Ah, the nostalgia of the poor who think they are grand… Here, in the land of the sun, we quickly recognise the former colonists: they settle on our beaches as if they still belonged to them. Some would say there is no great harm in it. But behind these holiday scenes lies a heavier memory: that of an occupation that is never really erased.
The faces that come to tan change colour but not really their tone. Their skin darkens in the sun, but their gestures recall the old habit of appropriating places. It is true that the revellers must be kept happy: tour operators know how to sell the illusion. Behind their exotic brochures, they conceal those who, even far from home, still imagine themselves on conquered ground. As if summer erased history and whitewashed memories.
Our summer visitors cannot even know what they are missing by ignoring us. They lay down their towels the way one plants a flag, turning their backs on the inhabitants, on the stories, on the wounds that still haunt these shores. Their sun lights up only their own comfort. The rest – history, memory, the dignity of peoples – is relegated behind the fences of the holiday clubs.
Their trip thus never pays for itself. They leave tanned, but empty. Cruel irony: yet it was they who once explained to us that travel regenerates life, opens minds and brings peoples closer together. But their holidays look more like a colonial rehearsal than a discovery. They visit without seeing, consume without understanding, pass through without ever meeting anyone.
Gigolos have even been laid on for them, so that their wives can believe they can still seduce, as in the old days. The scene is set: holidays are not just a moment of relaxation, they replay old colonial fantasies. Here, the sun, the sea and exotic bodies serve as a mirror for their nostalgia. What is being sold is not just a seaside stay: it is the illusion of a past in which everything belonged to them.
We could not care less about their minds. Their memory is not ours, their history no longer has any hold over us. But they keep travelling the way one replays an old film: ignoring what goes on behind the scenes, repeating the same roles. Their tourism is not an exchange, it is a staging, a pagan ritual in which they reassure themselves that the world still revolves around them.
The colonist, for one season, finds himself colonised by his own nostalgia. A nostalgia that the entrepreneurs of tacky tourism serve him as an all-inclusive package. He is not just sold a stay in the sun: he is sold the illusion that he still has a hold on a world that is slipping away from him. Behind the swimming pools and cocktails, he buys a falsified memory, wrapped in the glossy paper of travel brochures.
Ilyes Bellagha
The opinions expressed in this opinion piece are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of BAM!
