The slow death of Tunisia's revolution for democracy

In a region where fledgling democracies often stagger and collapse, all eyes have turned once again to Tunisia, a country that has shouldered the label of "the bedrock of the Arab Spring" for over a decade.

Today, however, Tunisians are increasingly weary of the adage they’ve been carrying for nearly 14 years - one that feels increasingly hollow.

"People are exhausted," says Oussama El-Slim. The 20-something Tunisian, like many of his generation, boycotted the presidential election on 6 October. "We've been through a lot since the revolution."

At 7 pm on 7 October, national television announced that President Kais Saied had been re-elected with over 90% of the vote. Two opponents, handpicked by an election committee Saied himself appointed, were all that remained after dozens of other candidates were disqualified.

At La Fayette, a youth hot spot once humming with political debates, the young crowd barely glanced at their phones when the results came in. They watched news of Saied's victory unfold with the detached interest one might show to a far-off car crash.

In the papers the next morning, full-page portraits of Saied beamed from the newsstands in Tunis Marine station. "Tunisians older than 35 voted for Kais Saied," wrote Al-Maghreb newspaper.

Only six percent of Tunisia’s youth bothered to vote at all, and overall, just 29% of more than nine million registered voters participated.

The walls of Tunisia have always whispered the aspirations of the country’s youth. Once alive with caricatures and anti-state slogans hastily scribbled at dawn to elude police watch, they now stand largely mute in the face of Saied's authoritarian grip. 

Instead, they are mostly dominated by pro-Palestine murals - a steadfast moral compass in the country amid a barren political landscape. 

Today, the youth's only protest against the election is reflected in the flick of their inkless fingers and their sarcastic indifference to a process they view as a joke.

Kais Saied's senior fan club

It's a curious divide: older Tunisians, many disillusioned by past regimes, seem to see Saied as an anti-politician, a man of the people. ‘Kayssoun,’ they call him fondly, a nickname that suggests familiarity like he's one of their own - a man with "clean hands," they often say.

Elected in 2019 as a democratic outsider, Saied has since consolidated extraordinary powers, dissolved parliament, and rewritten the constitution to serve his own ends.

He feeds his supporters a steady diet of populist rhetoric, with daily videos on Facebook painting him as Tunisia's last great hope - a man who won't bow to the International Monetary Fund (IMF) or tolerate corruption. 

Yet, behind Saied's anti-elite image is an economic crisis spiralling out of control. At the end of 2023, total public debt stood at 94.4 percent of GDP, with a state deficit of 7.7 percent of GDP.

Under his leadership, Tunisia's debt is rising, growth is plummeting, and his erratic governance is driving investors away. His anti-corruption crusades - while popular - are vague, and seem to be creating more confusion than solutions.

According to the US-based Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, Saied's policies have exacerbated Tunisia's economic woes, pushing the country towards the abyss.

Still, his older fanbase seems to care little about the finer points of his economic plan - or lack thereof. To them, Saied is a hero simply because he isn’t like those who came before him. 

He doesn't vacation in luxury while they scrape by and laments Tunisia's woes alongside them on Facebook and during his frequent café visits, where they all blame "the enemies and the traitors" together.

However, if the people start to go hungry, even his populist lines might not be enough to keep him safe in Carthage. After all, the Tunisian revolution's first demand was bread. Now, youth unemployment stands at a staggering 39%, inflation eats away at wages, and the government spends wildly, with no clear solution in sight.

Opposition divided

When Saied orchestrated his 2021 coup, Tunisia's opposition briefly united to protect what remained of the country's democracy. However, in this election, the cracks reappeared.

Some, like former minister Kamel Jendoubi and journalist Chaima Issa, opted to support Ayachi Zammel, a candidate who became a folk hero after being sentenced to 12 years in prison. His candidacy was seen as an act of defiance against Saied's manipulation of justice.

Others, like Kaouther Ferjani, daughter of political prisoner and senior Ennahda figure Said Ferjani, refused to participate, arguing that it would only legitimise Saied's regime.

"I refuse to legitimise this election... Saied will use those who show up against us," Ferjani told The New Arab on election day.

Despite being sentenced to 12 years in prison just five days before the election, Zammel garnered 7% of the vote. His supporters accused members of Ennahda of backing Saied to discredit Zammel and taint the election result, which saw Saied claim over 90% of the vote.

Three years after Saied's coup, the opposition is still playing the 'J'accuse' game.

Ennahda, acknowledging its role in Tunisia's political crisis, has admitted to mistakes in post-revolution alliances. Ali Laarayedh, the party's deputy head, insisted that the country's collapse is the collective failure of all political factions.

Prominent activist Chaima Issa, recently released after being Tunisia’s first female political prisoner under Saied, remains hopeful.

"We must understand both the negatives and positives of what's happening, draw lessons from it, and carry on with more resilience and determination," she said.

She and other opposition figures have launched ‘Ahed Touness’ (the promise of Tunisia), a new alliance which aims to restore democracy. Their main goal is to oust Saied peacefully.

"The dream will continue," she promises, with her usual optimism.

When Tunisians first rose in 2010, their demands were simple: ‘bread, dignity, and freedom’. Mohamed Bouazizi's tragic act of self-immolation was an act of despair in the face of poverty, unemployment, and police violence.

The despair he felt - the kind that led him to set himself on fire - has only grown since 2010, but this time, it manifests in a quieter form of resistance. The youth's rebellion isn't in slogans or protests; it's in the inkless fingers that refused to vote, and in the boats headed for Europe, carrying those who have given up on Tunisia altogether.

As of 2023, approximately 75,900 people have attempted to leave Tunisia for other countries, with many seeking to cross the Mediterranean to Europe, an often deadly voyage.

"Can the heart heal from Tunisia's love?" Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish once asked as he burst out crying inside the Théâtre Municipal in Tunis.

Today, on the steps of the same theatre, where police and protesters often sit smoking together in silence - a statement of the shared misery, they often joke - the youth's answer is clear: they burst out laughing and say the heart is healed or at least ready to take a break from loving Tunisia and leave. 

"If things don’t change, we’ll see more protests... and more people fleeing [the country]," predicts Ferjani of Saied’s second term. His allies have already started hinting at his right to a ‘third term’.

While protests remain limited, the tragic exodus has already begun. Just last month, 12 people died and 10 more went missing after a boat headed for Europe capsised near Tunisia's Djerba. In 2022 alone, over 1,300 people died or went missing attempting similar crossings.

Basma El Atti is The New Arab's correspondent in Morocco.

Follow her on Twitter: @elattibasma