In the early hours before dawn on Tuesday, October 12th, the municipal police of Sbeitla (governorate of Kasserine) bulldozed an illegally built kiosk where a cigarette vendor was sleeping. Kasserine remains one of the most underprivileged regions in Tunisia. During the demolition, the roof collapsed on the victim’s body, leading to his tragic death and sparking protests in the region.
Opinions
I do not engage men in conversations on gender equality, especially cis, straight men. The last time I did, I was called a ‘feminazi’ for shaming a man who unabashedly invalidated a woman’s feelings toward her own menstruation. I did not understand how a man could draw such far-fetched conclusions without even having a vagina, let alone bleeding from it. Moreover, what would entitle him to invalidate her experiences and opinions?
Since 2014, the Transitional Justice process led by Tunisia’s Truth and Dignity Commission (Instance Vérité et Dignité, IVD) has been anything but steady. After a mandate of nearly five tumultuous years, the IVD completed its task in 2019 with the referral to court of at least 173 cases of serious human rights violations and corruption. It also published a comprehensive report including its findings and recommendations. Today, the report was finally published in the Official Gazette as required by Transitional Justice Law.
Almost ten years after the Revolution took place, however, the new political scene that has since emerged in Tunisia is creating social friction and a division amongst Tunisians. This article attempts to provide an analysis of this prevalent social friction based on the theory of group polarization, while shedding a special light on the current political events that are shaping Tunisian domestic affairs.
Suddenly my hands were red. Thick, glass shards—which moments earlier had been a smooth bowl—lay scattered across the tabletop. Small pools of blood followed me like shadows on the kitchen floor before my wife reached me with a towel and instructions to apply pressure. As she gathered car keys, my spinning head brought me to the floor. Seated there, queasy and cold, two strangers—architects my wife had been meeting—helped me wearshoes. They closed the door behind us as we sped to the hospital.
Worldwide, the outbreak of the Corona virus and dramatic increase in death tolls caused the policies of infected countries to change drastically. This was also the case for the Tunisian government. Initially set on addressing existing troubles, the government has since changed its trajectory and is now focused on the life-threatening epidemic that is challenging the world economy.
“There’s really no such thing as the ‘voiceless’. There are only the deliberately silenced, or preferably unheard”, Arundhati Roy
The 2019 presidential campaign began on Monday, September 2, 2019. Between those who have it, those who want to have it, and those who are preventedfrom having it, the fight over power has just started. Like every election, candidates are playing the « Tunisian woman » card and pitting us, Tunisian women, against each other, instrumentalizing the question of equality. Pretending to be the liberators or protectors of the “Tunisian woman” isa tradition which stems from a long history of State-feminism that was key throughout many phases of Tunisian history. Now, however, such discourse is void. We thought that Tunisian women killed the father in 2011 and should not seek to replace him with a new one, and that no candidate should pretend to father us. The time for nostalgia is over.
This article is co-authored by Samah Krichah and Ikram Ben Said.
“The answer is Tunisia.” That’s what Egyptians say when they talk about a solution to their political crisis and their hopes for democracy at home. It is not only about the possibility of exporting the so-called Tunisian political exception to the Arab region. It also expresses a desire to tap into the dynamism of the professional syndicates, trade unions, and civil society organizations that make up the political landscape in Tunisia and have come to exercise the power of oversight and consultation with the authorities. The National Syndicate of Tunisian Journalists (Syndicat National des Journalistes Tunisiens, or SNJT) is one of these professional syndicates with growing weight and influence.
Wednesday 26 September was a momentous day at the court of First Instance of Gafsa. Emotions ran high as the activists and leaders of the uprising of the Gafsa Mining Basin of 2008 walked into the same court room in which they were beaten up, unfairly tried and sentenced less than 10 years ago. Only this time, they walked in through the main door as victims waiting to see the perpetrators prosecuted- not defendants accused of plotting against the state. Their only crime in 2008? Daring to peacefully protest what they considered to be unfair employment practices, nepotism and lack of transparency by the state-owned Phosphate Company of Gafsa, the region’s main – if not sole – employer.
Tunisians are usually very pessimistic when they talk about the future of their country. Many see themselves as imprisoned in it. Those who manage to escape the country, through legal or illegal channels, are considered heroes. However, outside observers are somehow more optimistic with regards to the process initiated in 2011. These contradictory perceptions hide a misunderstanding as to the nature of the Tunisian revolution, its main actors, and its stakes.
According to official figures, 11 billion dinars are currently circulating outside the Tunisian banking system. This calls for a constant refinancing of banks by the Tunisian Central Bank, due to the resulting lack of liquidity. Many factors may account for this situation, namely the size of the informal sector and the low rate of bancarization standing at 47% of the population. While this has been the case for many years, the situation could deteriorate in 2018 and 2019.
