Kais Saied’s dismemberment of Tunisia’s democracy encouraged a view that the country’s politics are battleground between authoritarianism and democracy. Chiming into fears of a global authoritarian turn, the position has gained significant traction in anglophone media. But how can we better understand the impasse? Jakob Plaschke, journalist, researcher and MA graduate from Georgetown University’s Center for Contemporary Arab Studies, makes the argument that what is needed is not a return to the path of old, but a genuine reflection on the causes for a failed decade of democracy.
On July 25th, 2021, international reporting on Tunisia took a 180. Gone was ‘the Arab Spring’s only success story’, a phrase featured in articles on even the grossest human rights violations over the past decade. In its stead was the narrative of a country reverting to its dark days of dictatorship.
Journalists flew in over the next few days and reported an intense police presence with arrests by plainclothes officers. Some were even detained themselves. Fewer remarked that prior to July 25th, such detentions were not out of the ordinary.
For while it seems Kais Saied is neither taking Tunisia in a positive political direction nor solving the deep socio-economic inequalities that fuelled the 2010-2011 revolution, the democracy-dictatorship binary forwarded by much of the international press is overly simplistic.
Such a position ignores the extent to which Tunisia’s ‘model democracy’ failed to cater for its demos. Far from picture perfect, Tunisia’s past decade has been characterised by a political elite disinterested in democratic principles and willing to ignore Tunisians’ every call for dignity.
As tensions related to deteriorating socio-economic conditions were on the rise, the ‘democratic’ government’s solution was time and again to empower the repressive apparatus of the state. Since the 2012 Siliana protests, violent crack downs and smear campaigns have consistently been favoured over addressing the legitimate concerns of protestors.
Sounds a little like the ‘democratic path’ we’re still on, doesn’t it?
Seen from this perspective, Saied’s rise may be less a point of radical departure than the continuation of a trend already in motion.
Ironically, many of the politicians spearheading today’s democratic defence supported a security system that regularly deployed anti-terrorism brigades against peaceful demonstrations. These were preparing a law to grant security officials immunity from prosecution in cases of lethal violence used against civilians.
According to Human Rights Watch, the bill would have returned Tunisia to a police state.
Appreciating the depth of Tunisian disillusionment with this system is essential for understanding the country’s current predicament. Ignoring it and pretending like the ‘return to the democratic path’ is a sustainable solution is unhelpful.
There is a reason that the capital’s boulevards and intersections, where I found myself on the evening of July 25th, were teeming with Tunisians celebrating. In the weeks that followed, it was hard to find anybody who was genuinely not excited about Saied’s usurpation of power.
Already at this point, Tunisian scholars were pointing out a disconnect between the story of coup d’état as told by Western analysts and the cautious excitement of the Tunisian street.
Refusing to believe Saied’s popularity could come from a place of rational political reflection, these forwarded explanations centring petty partisanship, conspiracy theories, and an inability to understand modern democratic culture. “Well dictatorship is bad by definition. So its supporters must have been duped.”
But this approach fails to account for the extent to which the vote for Saied was a rational response to frustrated demands. As one of my friends in Tunis said on the night of July 25 when I asked why she was so happy with this old, conservative man taking power: “I hate Kais Saied, but I love what he did.”
Outside observers need to realize that the political elites of the last 10 years will be forming neither trustworthy nor sustainable alternatives to the Saied regime.
That’s if they ever get to that position in the first place.
Even though belief in Saied’s ability to deliver long-awaited socio-economic solutions has dropped significantly, this has not translated into support for the opposition. Approval ratings for their political personalities remain laughably low.
That they will put together a convincing coalition to fight for inclusive democratisation is a pipedream yet. No amount of favourable international coverage is likely to change that.
In other words – the Tunisian political elite-turned-opposition is done. Whatever political project they touch they will taint, and anyone who truly wishes to see democracy in Tunisia should recognise this.
What Tunisia needs is not a return to the path of old, but an alternative to both the hypocrisy of the last decade and the worrying direction of the new one.
With more than half of eligible voters abstaining from Saied’s recent constitutional referendum (in addition to those actively boycotting) apathy seems to be making its return.
But amongst the apathy anger is brewing too. Under the pavements of Tunisia’s cities, in its fields, mines, and the deserts of its countryside, the grassroots quest for dignity continues. More is to come.
Jakob Plaschke is a journalist and researcher. He holds an MA from Georgetown University’s Center for Contemporary Arab Studies. He has published numerous articles on Tunisia in the New Arab, Meshkal, and the Danish press, and spent seven months there in preparation for his thesis about grassroots protest and policing.
