Introduction
Since the 2011 revolution, Tunisia has struggled to strike a balance between security and liberty, national identity, and diversity. A gradual shift in official discourse—particularly in relation to President Kais Saied’s focus on sovereignty and “foreign conspiracies”—has created a context in which civil society is no longer a partner to the government, but rather a constant suspect of criminality. New laws targeting misinformation and foreign financing, and recurring campaigns against “traitors” or “foreign agents,” have created an environment in which previously tolerated or even celebrated efforts are now criminalized.
This report details the profiles and cases of seven figures who have thus been targeted, providing a facts-based account that draws from information available in public reporting, including Nawaat’s own coverage.
Saadia Mosbah has been a leading figure in Tunisia’s movement against racial discrimination, both prior to and since the 2011 revolution. Her early attempts to found an explicitly anti-racist association met resistance under the regime of Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali, but she persisted, eventually launching the organization Mnemty. Mosbah’s activism has gained her recognition as one of the most prominent voices challenging the denial of racism in Tunisian society. Her efforts contributed to the passage of Tunisia’s anti-discrimination law in 2018, a legislative milestone in the Maghreb. However, her association has been a repeated target of administrative hurdles and negative coverage in state-linked media, particularly since the issue of sub-Saharan migrants became more politically sensitive beginning in 2022.
After 2018, Mosbah and her organization expanded their work, focusing on both anti-discrimination advocacy and direct assistance for migrants facing hardship. This work became increasingly controversial after 2023, with President Kais Saied denouncing “plots” in which civil society was implicated and accusing NGOs—Mnemty implicitly included—of facilitating illegal migration and undermining national sovereignty. In May 2024, following Saied’s televised speeches against “traitors,” Mosbah’s association was brought under investigation. She was arrested soon thereafter, accused of money laundering and illegally supporting migrant arrivals. Despite public attention, the authorities provided no substantive evidence of financial wrongdoing, and an expert review found her finances to be in order. At the same time, her organization’s bank accounts were frozen, and key documentation was confiscated.
Her detention, which spurred protests among Tunisian and international actors alike, has been accompanied by an organized public defamation campaign. State media and government-aligned online accounts revived old rumors that Mosbah worked on behalf of foreign powers and received payment to “implant migrants.” Her son has indicated that:
Defamation campaigns continue today, through comments on my publications or messages on Facebook […] I think some of those who participate in these campaigns aim to systematically discredit her, while others make unfounded accusations due to ignorance […] Some accuse her of supporting the idea of implanting undocumented migrants, even though her position is clear and she has expressed it repeatedly: Tunisia has the right to protect its borders, and migrants have the right to humane treatment.
The strategy of criminalizing advocacy mirrors tactics previously used against opposition parties, but extends them to the realm of social and humanitarian work. As Mosbah reported from detention, “If I fall, keep marching! We haven’t committed any of the crimes of which they accuse us: neither money laundering nor so-called ‘implanting migrants.’” Her prosecution, despite a lack of material evidence, has sent a signal to other groups engaged in similar work, increasing reluctance to openly advocate for vulnerable communities and reducing the operational ability of migration-support organizations nationwide.
Saloua Ghrissa is a retired academic and founder of the Association for the Promotion of the Right to Difference (ADD). Since 2011, her public life has been defined by advocacy for the recognition of diverse identities in Tunisia, with ADD focusing on the rights of ethnic, regional, and sexual minorities. Over the span of more than a decade, Ghrissa established a record of defending marginalized groups. Her organization has challenged policies viewed as discriminatory, denounced crackdowns on migrant communities, and opposed the criminalization of LGBTQI activism. Authorities have repeatedly disrupted ADD events, but it was not until late 2024 that the state escalated its approach to legal proceedings.
Ghrissa’s arrest in December 2024 followed an expedited process. She was brought in for questioning, detained, and transferred to Manouba prison, all without the external auditing procedures previously considered standard in NGO cases. Her legal team has noted the unprecedented speed and lack of transparency surrounding these procedures, arguing that her detention is based less on evidence of wrongdoing and more on pressure from security agencies to neutralize critical voices ahead of impending migration-related protests. “Indeed, there were financial transfers,” her defense team explains, “but Saloua provided all substantiating documents. We have based our request for release on these documents […] We will submit a new request next month. She has no criminal record. She is elderly. She shouldn’t be incarcerated.”
The case stalled in court for months, with no new charges publicly announced and restricted access granted to her lawyers. The public response was muted at first, in part due to the intimidation effect created by state media coverage and a broader chill on dissent.
Her family, led by her sister Leila Ghrissa, has attempted to raise public awareness about her case. They highlight her long record of integrity and service:
Saloua does not deserve this. They know her. They know how hard she has fought for human rights. She is a woman of integrity. She doesn’t belong in prison.
Reports from prison describe severe overcrowding—100 women crammed into a 50-square-meter cell, three to a bed, mattresses spread across the floor—and inadequate sanitary facilities, with prisoners allowed one shower a week. Despite these difficult conditions, Ghrissa has attempted to protect her relatives from the worst aspects of her experience, providing limited information about her suffering. Her case is emblematic of the broader shift by authorities away from formal legal processes towards methods combining reputation attacks and physical repression, even for longtime advocates whose work has previously been non-partisan and focused on human rights.
Imen Ouardani’s public career has combined civil service and volunteer work. As a municipal official, she was known for developing initiatives in partnership with NGOs, especially in areas with significant migrant populations. Prior to her arrest, Ouardani collaborated on projects for urban development, women’s empowerment, and food security. On numerous occasions, she has been recognized for promoting efficient cooperation between local authorities and humanitarian organizations, especially during spikes in immigration from sub-Saharan Africa since 2021. Nevertheless, in May 2024, as President Saied intensified his warnings about “foreign plots,” Ouardani was arrested in a sweep targeting local officials associated with humanitarian or migration management.
The charges brought against her included conspiracy against state security and collaboration with foreign governments—broadly-worded offenses that encompass a range of civil society activities under new legal interpretations. Her arrest was sudden and followed a pattern in which civil servants with links to NGOs were labeled a security risk. Public comment on her case was limited, due to intimidation and the threat of further judicial proceedings against those speaking out. Colleagues have described the atmosphere as “paralytic,” citing a growing reluctance to accept roles in civic engagement or community development programs that might be deemed controversial.
The personal consequences of her detention have been significant: her daughter left without a caregiver and her mother urged to avoid commenting publicly on the case. However, Dalenda Eddous has chosen to speak out about her daughter’s situation: “Keep quiet so you don’t make things worse! -She’s been held in arbitrary detention for 14 months… Quiet, we told you to wait!” Eddous paraphrases her back-and-forth with authorities, and wonders:
What did she do to be deprived of her freedom, to pay the price of months in prison, to lose her job? If she held it together for so long, it’s because she knows she is innocent … But she finally broke down, because her detention has been extended for no reason, even though her legal team has presented proof of her innocence.
The scenario reveals the effectiveness of the state’s new strategy; by targeting even lower-profile officials connected to migration or humanitarian work, authorities have spread fear through entire sectors, reducing not only political but also non-political forms of civic activity.
Mustapha Djemali, an 80-year-old humanitarian, spent much of his career working for the UNHCR, focusing on the creation of refugee support structures in Tunisia. He was a founding member of the Tunisian Council for Refugees, an association dedicated to providing legal protection and assistance for refugees, and which has operated transparently with government and international partners for years. His professional background is notable for its focus on institution-building and compliance with national and international regulations. Nonetheless, in 2024, police conducted a raid on his association’s headquarters, confiscating documents and detaining Djemali on the grounds that he had created a “criminal association” to facilitate irregular migration.
The legal basis for charges against him are laws dating back to the 1960s and 1970s, rarely applied in recent decades, but today revived in the context of the national crackdown on migration. Despite his age and deteriorating health, Djemali’s requests for provisional release have been systematically rejected, even with the provision of medical documentation. Djemali remained without prescribed medication for two months, a situation rectified only after repeated interventions by his family and legal representatives. His daughters have described their first private visit with their father in detention, when they noticed a swelling on his leg. It was thus discovered that the prison administration had given him the wrong medication, despite having been provided with Djemali’s prescriptions. In the meantime, authorities have attempted appease his family with the promise: “If he hasn’t done anything wrong, then he’ll be out soon!”
Djemali’s case highlights the intersection of law enforcement and public health in the current crackdown. His family’s experience points to systemic problems in the detention of elderly or vulnerable persons, with little evidence provided to justify the suspension of standard medical protocols. The targeting of Djemali is also notable for its retroactive criminalization of humanitarian activities: the state’s argument hinges on a reinterpretation of legal association statutes and an assumption that supporting migrants is inherently suspicious. This approach has created uncertainty among NGOs working on refugee issues, with many reducing or suspending their operations for fear of prosecution.
Abdallah Saïd, a Chadian-born physician who became a Tunisian citizen in 2012, is well-known in the Medenine region for his medical and civil society work. Saïd’s activism has focused on vulnerable populations, particularly children with disabilities and migrant families. He has spearheaded campaigns for access to education, medical care and housing, often collaborating with other associations to secure basic supplies for those facing exclusion. Saïd has played a key role in local responses to migration crises, ensuring the provision of health services to newly arrived asylum-seekers and internally displaced people.
The turning point for Saïd came after the presidential speech in February 2023 condemned “hordes” of migrants and called for the “protection of national identity.” Shortly thereafter, Saïd was accused of money laundering, forming a criminal association, and threatening public security—a set of charges which echoes those faced by other humanitarian actors during the same period. Little concrete evidence was presented, and the legal process mirrored the procedural ambiguities seen in other political cases. The effect on the local community has been chilling, with many individuals who have benefited from or worked alongside Saïd’s initiatives declining to comment or doing so using pseudonyms.
Speaking anonymously, an activist in the Medenine region noted that:
Abdallah Saïd made the association headquarters available to other organizations for their activities. He used his connections to help these associations organize activities and launch projects for the young girls and boys of the region. I have never known a man of such integrity, so correct and devoted. That’s why the announcement of his arrest for terrorism and money laundering was such a major shock for us. Everyone here knows who Abdallah Saïd is and knows full well that he has nothing to do with any plot or so-called implantation of migrants.
Authorities’ actions have been perceived as a warning, further discouraging local activism and heightening xenophobia at the societal level.The impact of Saïd’s prosecution has been broad, not only undermining regional health and social services dependent on his network, but also sending a message that Black Tunisians and naturalized citizens are particularly at risk of scapegoating in national debates about migration and sovereignty. His supporters have witnessed a correlation between humanitarian work and accusations of “destabilization,” observing that those most active in supporting the state’s social contract are now at highest risk of arrest. His case underscores the extent to which anti-migration policies intersect with racial and social discrimination in Tunisia’s new legal environment.
Sherifa Riahi has long been involved in humanitarian work in Tunisia, first with a focus on children’s rights and later as director of Terre d’Asile Tunisie, an organization dedicated to supporting refugees and migrants. She has a track record of developing local partnerships and transparent project management with international agencies, including the United Nations. The work of Terre d’Asile in Tunisia ranges from coordinating legal assistance for asylum-seekers to providing food, shelter, and psychological support for those stranded by border closures or police operations. The NGO is known for its rigorous internal procedures and periodic oversight of governmental procedures.
Riahi’s arrest in May 2024 was part of a broad wave targeting key migration organizations in the scope of President Saied’s focus on alleged threats to state security by foreign-funded NGOs. She was charged with money laundering, conspiracy, and complicity in the abuse of official status, though subsequent investigations found no evidence of financial misconduct. One investigating officer reportedly told her, “Your affairs are clean, Madam,” highlighting a disconnect between the rhetoric driving official statements and the findings of law enforcement. Despite this, she has remained in custody due to legal technicalities and pressure from the Interior Ministry.
On a personal level, the circumstances of Riahi’s arrest and prolonged detention have been traumatic. Riahi was taken into custody barely two months after the birth of her second child, without any consideration for her physical or psychological well-being, or for the needs of her baby–forcibly weaned from her mother’s milk. It took 11 months before she was granted two visits a week with her children. In a letter written from her cell, Riahi highlighted that:
It is not incarceration that has broken me, but being deprived of my children … The procedures for obtaining a direct visit were so slow and complex that they can be described as torture for prisoners, especially those accused under the anti-terrorist law.
Riahi’s family and network of local partners describe her ongoing detention as an indication of the insecurity experienced by those working in migration or humanitarian services—even those within well-known organizations with clearly-established procedures. Colleagues have expressed frustration that the line between “foreign influence” and legitimate aid remains undefined, exposing volunteers and professionals alike to arbitrary prosecution. Riahi’s prosecution also illustrates the new risks posed by collaborating with international organizations, as authorities increasingly interpret such cooperation as suspect unless explicitly sanctioned or supervised by state agencies. The uncertainty surrounding her case has contributed to a marked drop in legal and humanitarian services available to migrants, exacerbating the precarious circumstances endured by vulnerable populations.
Sonia Dahmani is a lawyer, journalist, and prominent commentator on legal affairs and freedom of expression in Tunisia. Her public criticism of government conduct, particularly in relation to migration and human rights, has brought her to national prominence since the start of the crackdown on dissent in 2023. Dahmani initially faced prosecution owing to a sarcastic comment—“What a great country!”—made in response to migrant arrests. The authorities interpreted the remark as “spreading false information” and used the country’s Decree 54 on cybercrime as a basis for charging her with undermining public security.
In subsequent months, Dahmani faced five prosecutions in relation to her public statements. The authorities pursued these cases regardless of the platforms or context, with each intervention or interview resulting in a new proceeding and cumulative penalties. These actions have been accompanied by a media campaign hostile to her person, portraying her critiques as part of a coordinated effort to destabilize the country. While not the only lawyer in the country affected by the new legal environment, she has become a reference case for the fate of public speech in Tunisia.
In March 2025, Dahmani launched a hunger strike to protest her detention conditions and the use of legal tools for political ends. “She endures the same conditions as the other prisoners,” her lawyer has noted, “but refuses to keep silent.” Dahmani’s sister, whose posts on social media have evoked indecent prison conditions (humiliating body searches, a lack of basic rights such as family visits, among other violations) has also been sentenced to serve two years behind bars for diffusing “false information.” Authorities’ measures—including restrictions on communication with lawyers and intervention in trial procedures—have been widely condemned by national and foreign legal associations. Dahmani’s ongoing resistance has maintained her profile despite attempts to silence her, inspiring both fear and solidarity among fellow professionals.
Conclusion
The cases detailed above reveal clear patterns in Tunisia’s current approach to governance: the extension of security-based logic into new areas of civic, humanitarian, and anti-racist work; a judicial shift toward preventive detention and vaguely defined charges; and a willingness to implement public defamation campaigns against voices for diversity and inclusion. The lack of clear legal standards and consistent due process have increased uncertainty, not only for those directly affected but also for large numbers of civic actors, professionals, and families.
While varied in background and profession, the seven individuals profiled here share the experience of being reclassified as threats on the basis of pursuing non-violent, humanitarian, or anti-discriminatory action. Their detentions have broader implications for Tunisia’s development in governance and civil liberties, as the national and international networks upon which the country has long relied for expertise and partnership become increasingly skeptical or inoperative.
Further attention to the intersection of executive discourse, legislative change, and the operational reality of civil society is warranted if Tunisia is to avoid continued regression in rights and governance. The examples included here provide a factual foundation for evaluating such developments—without recourse to advocacy or dramatization—so that future policy debates may be grounded in the experience and the consequences endured by those directly affected.
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