L’Avocat de la Terreur (Terror’s Advocate)
This is a French documentary concerned with the life of the lawyer Jacques Verges. His life is of interest because he has spent his career working with political activists and the political elite of many countries. In particular, Verges has a self-professed “vocation” as a defender, and it is in this capacity that his services have been retained by these political figures. By dint of this fact Verges has proximate connections with an extraordinary number of international figures of recent political history, a fact attested to by the closing credits that list those appearing in the film, beginning with Pol Pot, and including Klaus Barbie, Magdelena Kopp and Djamila Bouhired.
Interviews by an unseen and unheard interviewer, both of Verges and others, feature heavily. Verges is typically presented behind his desk, cigar in hand, files, some labelled “Irak” (since the deposition of Saddam Hussein Verges has been linked with both Hussein and Tariq Aziz) and other accoutrements of a lawyer’s office in view. Other interviewees are similarly interviewed in their place of work - an archivist in a library, a comic strip artist at his desk, etc. - which helps establish and maintain an earnest tone which seems befitting to the subjects under discussion. Supplementing the points raised during the interviews are a broad range of other relevant material, including phone interviews (with Carlos the Jackal, for one), newsreel footage, photos, and excerpts of film dramatisations (Battle of Algiers).
Throughout, screen text appears in a variety of contexts, indicating the beginning of a new chapter in the film, as subtitles, as explanatory footnotes to supplement the words of an interviewee, and as annotations to textual documents (letters, police files, etc.) presented onscreen. Occasionally, there is an over abundance of such screen text, and some confusion may result, particularly for those relying on the subtitled translations from French. Incidental music in the film is used to vary the prevailing atmosphere, which is notably sombre at the film’s conclusion. We also hear music that wasn’t specifically composed for use in the film, notably when period and folk music is employed as a chronological or geographical signpost for the audience.
Aside from piquing our interest in Verges himself (he has never explained an eight-year disappearance period in the 1970s, for example, and was married to Djamila Bouhired), the film constitutes an excellent introduction and overview of the internationalist political movement of the latter half of the 20th century, and the dimension of “international terrorism” in particular. The material presented is sometimes very dense, and provides much scope for reflection and speculation on the character of Verges, and, more generally, on individuals of his ilk, i.e. those who feel a compulsion to assist in the legal defense of the accused. In a less direct sense, the film revisits the ancient conundrum of the terrorist/freedom fighter duality. Some may disagree on principle with the exposure that this film gives Verges and his clients, but it is my feeling that the film’s overall impact should effectively counter such objections.