6 The American Scholar, autumn 2010 The flags had appeared overnight, peeking out from behind windows or unfurled along wrought-iron balconies above the dusty streets of Oran, Algeria’s second-largest city. Little pen- nants traveled on the antennae and rear win- dows of cars. The entire city was enveloped by a canopy of green, white, and red—the colors of the Algerian flag. These flags were the surest sign that the Mediterranean’s largest country was back in the World Cup after a 24-year absence. In 1962, Algerians greeted their independence from France with massive street celebrations, filled with flag-waving fervor—scenes immor- talized by the classic film The Battle of Algiers. But the recent and savage civil war (1992–2004), which claimed at least 150,000 victims, made flag-waving displays of patriotism fairly rare in Algeria. The country’s qualification for the World Cup in November achieved what national rec- onciliation plans have been unable to achieve: a return to popular displays of patriotic pride. Algeria entered the tournament as one of the youngest, least experienced, and lowest ranked among the 32 teams that qualified for the World Cup. Its coach, Rabah Saadane, seemed to have these limitations in mind when he called the Cup an “apprenticeship” and a “lesson” for his young players. Nevertheless, Saadane’s caution didn’t temper the Algerian nation’s expectations. The first piece of graf- fiti I saw when I arrived in Oran turned out to be the most ubiqui- tous: Ma’ak yal khadra. Diri hala! “We’re with you, Green. Do it!” (Green is the nickname for the national team.) Even more audacious were the small posters that popped up in storefront windows on rue Larbi ben M’hidi, Oran’s main commercial thoroughfare. Beneath a picture of the national team’s starting lineup, these posters implored: “Bring it home!” No self-respecting soccer expert or fan expected Algeria to make a run at the title; indeed, few outside of Algeria gave its team any chance of even making it out of the first round. Nevertheless, Algerian fans supported their team with a fervor matching that of the Spanish and the Dutch, whose teams would meet in the final on July 11. Like citizens of the other African nations in the World Cup, who rarely enter the global spotlight, Algerians put a startling and dis- proportionate amount of energy and hope into their country’s soccer team. In a land of dreams deferred, a land still recovering from its War of Independence, where civil strife continues to boil beneath the surface of everyday life, the Cup provided a much-needed respite. On June 13, the day Algeria played Slovenia in its first World Cup match, I met my friends Farid and Ouassini at the restaurant Le Mediterra- nee in downtown Oran. The restaurant has what I imagine to be the ambiance of an American gentleman’s club of the 1940s. Its interior is dark—due to the lack of natural light and the faux-parquet paneling on the walls. Le Mediter- Letter from ALGERIA Waiting for a Goal BY ERIC CALDERWOOD Eric Calderwood traveled to Algeria with a grant from the American Institute for Maghrib Studies. He is a Ph.D. student at Harvard, where his research focuses on Spain and Morocco. Letter from Algeria Calderwood Live_Layout 1 8/26/2010 3:40 PM Page 6