Khadidja Benhamou and the Crisis of Identity
The Crown of Controversy: Khadidja Benhamou and the Crisis of Identity
In 2019, what should have been a night of historic triumph for Khadidja Benhamou quickly descended into a national crisis of identity. Moments after being crowned Miss Algeria, the celebration was shattered not by a breach of protocol or a personal scandal, but by a wave of vitriol directed at the color of her skin. The backlash she faced sparked a global conversation about the complex intersections of race, heritage, and belonging in North Africa.
A Victory That Exposed Deep-Seated Bias
Khadidja Benhamou, hailing from Adrar in the south of the country, represented a segment of the population often marginalized in mainstream media. While she was a citizen and a legitimate winner under the pageant’s regulations, her crowning triggered an immediate and aggressive response from segments of the Arab-majority population.
Social media platforms were flooded with derogatory comments and even death threats. The primary grievance from critics was that Benhamou was “too Black” to represent the Algerian image. This reaction highlighted a “fragile politics of identity,” where the diverse reality of a nation clashed with a singular, more exclusive myth of what it means to be Algerian.
Understanding the Roots of Colorism
The hostility directed at Benhamou wasn’t just about a beauty contest; it was a symptom of a deeper wound known as colorism. In many parts of North Africa, there is a historical and social tension regarding “Africanness” versus “Arabness.”
For many, the Saharan regions of the south where many Black Algerians reside are culturally and socially distant from the Mediterranean north. By winning the crown, Benhamou forced the nation to look in the mirror and confront its own internal diversity. Her presence on that stage challenged the historical erasure of Black North Africans and the systemic anti-Blackness that often lurks beneath the surface of national pride.
The Final Question: Who Decides Who Belongs?
The Khadidja Benhamou story remains a pivotal case study in the struggle for representation. It poses a haunting question for any nation: Can a country deny its own people simply to protect a narrow, manufactured image of itself?
While Benhamou handled the pressure with remarkable grace, the scars of that “celebration turned to terror” remain. To move forward, the conversation must go beyond beauty standards and address the fundamental right of every citizen to be seen, celebrated, and protected, regardless of how they fit into a “preferred” national aesthetic.
History will remember Benhamou not just as a queen, but as a woman who forced a nation to confront the truth about its own skin.









