The Exclusion of the North African Novel in English from African Literature

The North African novel in English has garnered international accolades and scored representation in the global literary canon, but not yet in the African canon. Why is this still the case?

Let us start with this: for a non-African, there is only one Africa—sub-Saharan Africa. For an African, there are  two Africas—North Africa and sub-Saharan Africa. I argue that there is a colonial detachment, which was initiated in the nineteenth century, that is being ideologically sponsored and employed by several forces to separate people who live alongside each other. It was certainly a powerful decision executed by a powerful force. This separation has deep, historical roots. It magnetizes its power and persistence from major historical decisions, whose consequences remain effective to this moment. I am, of course, implicating those who divided to conquer, those who separated the continent to weaken it. I am implicating the European colonial enterprise. 

It is crucially important to know that this colonial separation is well and alive. It is nurtured by many forces; some opaque, others visible; some international, others continental. The orientalist views of North Africa still frame the region as ‘Arab’, ‘Berber’, ‘Muslim’ or ‘White’. The racial views of ‘sub-Saharan’ Africa still advertise the continent as ‘Black’. True, many international forces nurture the persistence of this separation for several reasons, but I am particularly interested in the African forces that do the same. The African people themselves (both North Africans and ‘sub-Saharans’) still believe that there are two Africas. 

This belief still creates an ‘estrangement’ and a ‘distance’ between ‘North Africans’ and the rest of Africa. It is included in conversations, and, more sinisterly, it is deeply rooted in African societies, establishments and institutions. It has been, in a way, institutionalized. Notably, North Africans rarely associate themselves with the African continent, attributing themselves to the Middle East instead, obeying this colonial value, either consciously or unconsciously. In Algeria, for example, when receiving typically Black African tourists and guests, we refer to them as ‘African tourists’. Even Algerian institutions do so, such as newspapers and TV channels. Similarly, Africans outside of North Africa join us in this orientation, considering us ‘White Arabs’, ‘Berbers’ or ‘blancs’ (Whites). 

Before delving into the main ideas of this article, it is imperative to clarify several points that contextualize it. To begin with, it focuses essentially on Anglophone literature; any references made to language here are about the English language. It argues that the North African novel in English is invisible in the canon of African literature in English. The North African novel in English is a new literary tide that employs the English language as its tool of expression, rather than Arabic or French. It is pioneered and championed by several writers including Egyptian Ahdaf Soueif (The Map of Love, 1993), Noor Naga, another Egyptian, (If an Egyptian Cannot Speak English, 2022), Libyan Hisham Matar (My Friends, 2024), Moroccan Laila Lalami (The Moor’s Account, 2014) and Algerian Hamza Koudri (Sand Roses, 2023)...

Every year, The Republic publishes the most ambitious writing focused on Africa, from news and analysis to long-form features. 

To continue reading, Register for a Free Pass.
Already a subscriber? Log in.