Gillo Pontecorvo directed this gritty film in 1965. In semidocumentary style, it covers part of the 1954-1962 Algerian revolution, leading to the end of French colonial rule and the founding of the Algerian state. With dynamic close-ups and zooms, and music by the director himself in collaboration with spaghetti-western composer Ennio Morricone, Pontecorvo creates an immediate experience.

For the record, I consider the World Trade Center attacks to be profoundly evil, and I’m not equating bin Laden with anyone in the Algerian independence movement. But to understand, one must resist the impulse to see the world in black and white. Thus, it is useful to observe the parallels that a post-9/11 viewing of this film suggest.

Two characters stand out. On the Algerian side there is Ali La Pointe, a petty criminal. While in prison he witnesses a man being led to the guillotine shouting “Long live Algeria!” The experience converts him to the cause of the National Liberation Front. Ali is all anger, the kind of man who could become an ardent follower of bin Laden. Nevertheless, all it takes is one tracking close-up to make us care about him—and feel his rage.

Intent on destroying the NLF is the charismatic Colonel Mathieu. A more complex character than Ali, Mathieu is a veteran of the WWII French Resistance. Perhaps that’s why he can express admiration for the courage of his adversaries, who share with the Resistance the use of terror against an occupying force. When questioned by the press, he says “Those who call us Nazis may not know some of us survived Dachau and Buchenwald.” Mathieu apparently believes that his righteous past proves the correctness of his present mission. But he also waves off ethical considerations entirely with “We are soldiers. Our duty is to win.”

As The Battle of Algiers opens, it is 1957, but the film quickly flashes back to the beginnings of the conflict. Before striking out against the French, the NLF decrees an effort at internal purification within the Algerian community—rooting out vices. Children gang up on an alcoholic, and Ali kills a pimp—although he seems to have been a former patron. It’s chillingly reminiscent of the puritanical Taliban.

In the next stage, the NLF carries out a series of killings of policemen. The French retaliate with explosives, and things quickly escalate. There is at least one suicide attack. Fear leads to a surge of so-called patriotism among the colonials, shouting “Hurray for the paratroops!” Then as now, hatred of Arabs and Moslems flares up, and people are harassed for their ethnicity alone. Some advocate genocide, yelling “Kill all the bastards off; then we’ll have peace.”

In an astoundingly intense sequence, three Algerian women plant bombs in crowded public places. Exploiting the racism of the French that saw Arabs as dangerous, these women disguise themselves as Europeans to get past the checkpoints. The North African rhythms on the soundtrack evoke a kind of ritual. We may admire these women’s courage and ingenuity. But, glimpsing the faces of the people who will die in the blasts, we’re horrified.

Both sides strive to win the people over. We hear NLF communiques alternate with loudspeakers blaring propaganda like “France is your country.” Soldiers hand out bread in the Casbah, but it’s mostly rejected.

In this film, the press show less deference to authority than our own flag-waving anchormen. Over the years, we gather, opposition to the Algerian War has grown at home. One reporter asks about the use of torture. Mathieu is unapologetic, saying “To succumb to humane considerations only leads to hopeless chaos.” Our own FBI may be moving toward this view. Faced with suspects who won’t talk, they’re considering deporting them to countries with fewer constitutional restrictions on their police—France, for example.

This film prompts a question without easy answers: can terrorism be justified? Ali and Mathieu have no doubts, but we must, especially because, by an objective definition of the term, we’re now engaged in it. An NLF leader observes in the film that “it’s later, when we’ve won, that the real difficulties will begin.” His prescience was borne out by history; the film’s release coincided with Algeria’s first coup. Tragedies continue to play out there today. And though our revolution was won long ago, American democracy has rarely seemed so fragile.