Best athlete of the second African Games in Lagos where he won the gold medal, Abdelaziz Zaïer had an immense talent. To the point that the French coach Maurice Gruel offered him to naturalize in order to benefit from an elite sports scholarship while he was living in France. However, our champion firmly declined this proposal.
“I see sport as an artistic activity, recalls the brother of Maâmar, the great martial arts champion who had a profound impact on his career. Any activity can, in a certain way, be apprehended as art: cooking, walking in the street, receiving people at home… It is our daily life, the past and the future”.
A.Zaïer wants to make sense of things by transmitting fresh and hardly boring impressions of his discipline. Coming from such a well-informed character, his fight guarantees credibility and rigor with laymen.
Abdelaziz Zaïer, how did you come to judo?
It was my brothers Mehrez and especially Maâmar who led me to martial arts. I wasn’t very interested in studying, but I had energy to spare. One day in 1967, Maamar bought me a kimono at the General Store for three and a half dinars. I signed up at the Federal School, located on Rue Kamel Ataturk in Tunis, where Hamadi Hachicha trained us. Before joining Espérance Sportive de Tunis where I followed coach Ali Soumer who also worked at the Federal School. Hedi Mhirsi, who was to become president of the federation, was a coach, then section president at the EST. Meanwhile, my brother Maâmar took me with him to France to sew. I signed at the Saint-Martin club, in Saint-Denis. I was champion of France junior lightweight category. Back home, I was planning to open a representation of a major French couture brand. I imported everything: the models, the rods, the price posters… But disappointed to wait so long for the green light from customs, I sold everything.
The influence of your brother Maâmar, Grand Master in Martial Arts, was decisive, wasn’t it?
Since my young age, Maamar took care of me. He brushed my hair, taught me to behave well… He served as an example for me, a sort of idol. Thanks to him, I went to France at the age of sixteen to make my life. He’s a real sportsman, he doesn’t stop playing sports for a single day. Even during the holidays, on the beach where he had to do jogging, abs, push-ups… His destiny was to be Grand Master.
Do you remember your first fight?
I was only thirteen years old, and I must have weighed something like 40 kg. I was impatient to perform my baptism of fire. However, our coach at the Federal School, Hamadi Hachicha, kept telling me that I had to wait. I couldn’t argue with his decision. All in tears, I went to Hamadi Boulahia who asked him to give me a chance, while vouching if something bad happened to me. Well, I won back to back my first two fights, only falling in the third. I liked to do, what we call in our jargon, the splits. I was very flexible, I dodged easily. Early in the morning, I was jogging with my brother Mehrez from Bardo to TGM, then from TGM to Bardo. That is twice ten kilometres. In France, after training for three hours in one room, I went to another room for another three hours of work. Until today, I never feel tired.
What was your hardest fight?
I will not talk about hard fight, but rather funny. We were three judokas to represent Tunisia at the Spanish tournament in Seville: Mohsen Mahjoub and Abdessalam Besbès in the heavyweights, and myself in the lightweights. We played individual and team competition. In the latter, you are forced to play against weights quite different from your own. It was, in my case, a 100 kg Spaniard named Arufa. I turned towards Nejib Hachicha to say to him: “The fight of the bull and the lamb, you know, don’t you?”. Well, the nice lamb has made fun of the fierce bull! Thanks to my specialty, Morote-seoi-nage, I had managed to defeat him.
And the most important fight?
I delivered him against the Malagasy Jaksos Djidji in the final of the 2is African Games in Lagos, in 1973. My fight in the category less than 71 kg lasted only three seconds. The president of the delegation, Hassen Kacem, dressed in a superb Jebba, took all his time to settle in the tribune of honor of the Lagos hall. When he finished doing it, he understood nothing: the referee was already raising my arm, the game was over! The Algerian Ahmed Moussa, and the Senegalese Jacques Ndiaye, whom I beat in the semi-finals, had to settle for bronze.
Who was our selection?
Mohsen Mahjoub, Abdelmajid Snoussi, Abdessalam Besbès, Abderrazak Matoussi, Fethi Gharbi, now established in the United States…
Who were your coaches?
The Japanese Yuji Danjo in selection, Hamadi Hachicha at the Federal School from where the adventure had taken off, Ali Soumer at Espérance Sportive de Tunis, Maître Péquier in France. Without forgetting my brother Maâmar who taught me everything: how to opt for a movement that is more efficient and more suited to my qualities rather than another…
What are the qualities of a good judoka?
He must be alert, quick, flexible and strong enough standing and on the ground. With time, with a lot of training, you end up becoming efficient. A movement is worked in four or five different styles.
Since your retirement from sport, have you stayed in the industry?
No, I even made a 180 degree rotation by reconverting myself to another Art, because I consider judo to be an Art. I, at some point, opened a gym in El Manar. A video store, then a flower shop, too. For twenty years, sculpture has filled my life. I practice it both as an amateur and a professional. Moreover, I am a member of the Union of Tunisian Visual Artists. I learned sculpture on the job. It is a gift from God. This wonderful activity takes me four to five hours a day. I am a specialist in metal wire sculpture. This is a new accomplishment for me, a renewed joy.
You discover a whole new world…
Sport is also an artistic activity, in my opinion. Any activity can in a certain way be apprehended as art: cooking, walking in the street, receiving people at home… It is our daily life, the past and the future.
Like these ignored artists, your phenomenal career does not seem to be of any help so that others remember you…
Since my return from Saudi Arabia where I had gone to train the French School and Homeland Security, no one has remembered one day my modest person to reserve me anything but a small tribute to crown my career. I belong to the closed circle of the most successful athletes of my generation, but it’s as if someone were whispering in your ear: “No, thank you, we don’t need you anymore!”. Yet I sacrificed my youth for this sport. With my brother Maâmar, we carried the colors of our country high, whether in France or elsewhere. I beat by ippon people of a completely different weight, 120 kg, while I evolve in the category of less than 71 kg. We honored some former African champions, it’s a selective fact, and we forgot the rest. As long as we don’t have respect for the elders, we can’t go very far! However, I cannot ignore all that sport has given me, that is to say the respect and love of others. You feel, thanks to your sports performance, that you are worth something. The sport is fabulous. It’s something sacred, provided you leave it in good hands.
If you weren’t into judo, what other sport would you have practiced?
Boxing. At a certain moment, overflowing with energy, I really liked going towards the Noble art. But the love of judo ended up having the upper hand.
In France, the naturalization of great talents is a common practice. Have you ever been asked for this?
Once when the coach of the France team, Maurice Gruel, attended my fight in a tournament open to foreigners. It was possible to oppose athletes of different weights. I weighed 63 kg, while my opponent had 75. I held on until the end. The coach of the French selection came to ask me if I was interested in benefiting from a small grant, on the condition of playing for France. I did not understand the French language well enough then. I called my brother Maâmar to discuss with him. Despite the promise of secure accommodation and care, I refused to naturalize.
Your career hasn’t been a long calm river, has it?
Far from it. I had to face the low blows, the jealousy, the tricks, coming not only from my adversaries, but from my partners as well. Fortunately, I learned to always go forward, without looking back.
How do you judge the situation of judo in Tunisia?
We need to make more efforts. It is no longer enough to send athletes for training in Japan. It’s true, this country was a must. Not anymore with the emergence of countries like France, which has become number one, Kazakhstan, Cuba, Russia, Brazil… With athletes weighing 120 kg who are 2.10 m tall, we are dealing more and more with hercules which are really scary. In Tunisia, the raw material exists, we have always had good judokas. You just have to work seriously.
Tell us about your family?
I married Selma in 1975. We had six children, one of whom, Ahmed, died. These are Hela, Haifa, Lobna, Aymen and Alaâeddine.
How do you spend your free time?
I am partly in charge of the garden shop. On TV, I like to follow political shows. Their fault is that they never provide solutions or proposals.
What is your favorite club?
The Tunisian Stadium. First because I am a Bardo child. Then, because the former star, Hedi Braiek, is a cousin.
Are you optimistic for the future of our country?
Whether we like it or not, we are all doomed to be. This will eventually settle, or at least that is the hope of every citizen.
Finally, what does judo represent for you?
An education, a culture, a way of life, a philosophy of life. I advise parents to direct their children towards this discipline because it is a sport of defense above all else. If there is someone attacking you, you let them come to dodge and hook them. If you master this art well enough, you can defeat a twenty-year-old. Judo has served me in life to give me the necessary confidence. So I can go out at night without being afraid.
