This post is part of a symposium on movement lawyering in times of rising authoritarianism, run in collaboration with the Global Network of Movement Lawyers and Movement Law Lab). (Available also in Espanol and Português).
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Tunisia was once hailed as a beacon of democratic hope in the Middle East and North Africa region. The country inspired uprisings across the Arab world, adopted a democratic and progressive constitution, organized multiple free and fair elections, and was even awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. As other countries in the region were marked by war and violence in the years that followed of the 2011 mass protests, Tunisia, while not without its difficulties, seemed to be succeeding in keeping its democratic transition on course.
That all changed on July 25th, 2021, with President Kais Saied’s successful self-coup. Since then, the country has rapidly descended down a populist and authoritarian path, threatening to create conditions even worse than before 2011. Despite the youth of Tunisia’s democratic transition, its experience—and subsequent decline into authoritarian-populism—offers crucial lessons in this era of global democratic recession.
Ineffective Institutions and Parties
When I returned to Tunisia in 2016 to support the democratic transition, I never imagined I would walk the corridors of parliament. Yet joining Al Bawsala—a watchdog for state institutions—opened up a world of possibilities. Al Bawsala is just one of thousands of civil society organizations that emerged after 2011, reflecting Tunisia’s diverse political landscape; and during this period, these organizations played a central role shaping policy, holding decision-makers accountable, and promoting transparency.
Beneath this veneer of openness and pluralism, however, something was amiss in the birthplace of the Arab uprisings. After the 2011 revolution, Tunisia’s democratic forces aimed to establish institutions that ensured the separation and balance of powers to prevent executive overreach. Yet they soon encountered significant challenges. The state apparatus was highly centralized—both in decision-making and resource management—an inheritance of French colonialism and decades of dictatorship. This created a disconnect between the constitutional powers granted to these new institutions and their actual capacity to influence decisions. As a result, a widening gap emerged between public expectations and what these institutions could realistically achieve, and President Saied faced little public resistance when he began to systematically dismantle or neutralize these institutions that were neither fully operational nor given sufficient time to demonstrate their value to the people they were intended to benefit.
Tunisia also suffered from a failed political elite. After decades of dictatorship that reduced political activity to resistance, post-Revolution Tunisia suddenly found itself with a newly formed political class that was unprepared to govern and lacking the political vision and skills necessary to navigate a challenging democratic transition. Consequently, the newly created political parties did not operate as genuinely democratic entities. Instead, they were electoral machines built around charismatic figures, designed to contest elections but quickly dissolve afterward. These “parties” frequently formed alliances with those they had once condemned and neglected most of their political promises (if they had made any). And to conceal their incompetence and unwillingness to implement urgent reforms, they frequently hid behind false claims of consensus and promoted a technocracy seemingly devoid of politics, while also exploiting identity politics, particularly the divide between Islamism and secularism. Real decision-making was thus left in the hands of a small cadre of political leaders, who established parallel processes that evaded public scrutiny, as well as the oversight of their own base and even their party leadership.
This is not to say there was no progress: in recent years, some promising political initiatives had begun to emerge. Like all organizations, political parties during democratic transitions evolve and improve through a process of learning by doing. But this process requires both time and the ability to survive the inevitability of mistakes. In Tunisia’s case, both were in short supply.
This combination of incompetent, hyper-centralized political parties operating within weak institutions gave rise to a political spectacle of mediocrity, distorting the principles of checks and balances and political pluralism. These ideals, essential pillars of democracy, are now associated with chaos and the disintegration of the state.
Capture by Economic Elites
More dangerously, this situation created an imbalance between the political class, public institutions, and the economic elite, which further undermined Tunisia’s democratic transition. Since independence, Tunisia’s economy has been built on a rentier system, where political power grants economic favors to a small group of individuals and families in exchange for their loyalty to the regime. Tax exemptions, cheap land, large loans without guarantees, and exclusive permits were awarded to a select business elite who managed to “lock down the economy for their own benefit.” This system, which took on a mafia-like cronyism under Zine El Abedine Ben Ali, seamlessly adapted to the democratic era.
Instead of using the democratic opening to build a healthy economic ecosystem with equal access to opportunities, Tunisia’s oligarchy used their capital and social standing to reshape the rentier system in their favor. They became the patrons of the new political class by financing political projects—often competing ones—which ensured the protection of their privileged status. This predatory approach stifled any chance of new economic development and severely weakened Tunisia’s already deteriorating infrastructure and basic state services, such as education, healthcare, and transportation.
One immediate consequence of this state capture by powerful economic actors has been Tunisia’s heavy reliance on foreign debt, which skyrocketed during the democratic transition. In order to avoid economic reforms that might curb privileges of the oligarchy, while at the same time maintaining both a subsidy system (for food and fuel) and an outdated public workforce out of fear of social unrest, successive governments have had to turn to debt. This over-reliance on external borrowing has fueled a sense of lost sovereignty, a central theme in the current regime’s rhetoric, which despite its sovereignist posturing, it has failed to effectively address.
Instead, the economic vision promoted by the president, which essentially consists of a “penal reconciliation plan” in “which corrupt business people would make amends” by returning the nation’s looted wealth to fund local development projects, has yielded little success. A few businessmen have been jailed, while many others have fled, but the plan has neither filled the government’s coffers nor stimulated any economic momentum. And it is worth noting that the numerous waves of mostly arbitrary arrests targeting members of the business and political elite could not have occurred without the total subjugation of the judicial branch to the executive following a series of repressive, illegal, and arbitrary measures aimed at judges and the institutions meant to safeguard their independence.
Once again, these attacks on institutional independence elicited little public outcry, save for a few voices from civil society and human rights groups. Before the coup, Tunisian judges constituted a highly corporatist body deeply entrenched in a police state that persisted despite a decade of democratic transition. Judges systematically obstructed attempts at reform and held each other unaccountable, collaborating fully with a security apparatus that continued to repress marginalized communities, particularly youth from impoverished neighborhoods. Despite numerous documented cases of suspicious deaths in custody and widespread police brutality, no final judgments for torture were issued against police officers during the ten years of democratic transition. This, coupled with a reluctance to address corruption involving the political elite and delays in investigating political assassination cases, led to a catastrophic decline in the judiciary’s reputation.
Tunisia’s experience underscores the importance of addressing past mistakes within the framework of the rule of law to prevent their recurrence. The police-justice nexus was a cornerstone of Ben Ali’s repressive regime, essential for silencing dissent and maintaining his power. This dynamic is thoroughly documented in the Truth and Dignity Commission’s (IVD) final report, which sought to investigate past abuses and propose necessary reforms. However, the transitional justice process has been consistently undermined by counter-revolutionary forces, culminating in the recent imprisonment of the former IVD president.
Security over Democracy
Western decision-makers, initially enthusiastic about democratic progress in Tunisia, were repeatedly warned about the fragility of the democratic transition. Yet they ignored calls from civil society, continuing to bankroll a failing state and a corrupt political elite with minimal conditions. The July 25, 2021 coup unfolded amid global turmoil—the COVID-19 pandemic, the Ukraine war, and a rising far right in Europe—pushing Tunisia off the Western agenda. Western capitals had, for the most part, shifted their focus from promoting democratic transition to prioritizing stabilization, security imperatives, and curbing migration at any cost.
Following the signing of a controversial EU migration deal—condemned even by the European Parliament—Tunisia has effectively become an open prison for sub-Saharan migrants. In the past two years, scores of documented human rights violations, racially motivated violence, ill-treatment, arbitrary arrests, and mass deportations to the desert have emerged, sometimes even facilitated by equipment from EU countries. This situation is exacerbated by rampant conspiracy rhetoric surrounding the so-called “great replacement,” first circulating on social media, then relayed in an infamous presidential discourse—a poignant illustration of the dangers social media poses to social cohesion and democracy, especially in fragile democracies. The immigration deal also makes evident how Europe’s lack of a sustainable political strategy in the region weakens democracy. A genuine development policy that supported industrialization in the countries of the Global south could enable them to make significant economic advancements and implement fairer economic reforms, which would in turn enhance citizens’ confidence in their institutions.
Tunisia’s prospects for returning to a democratic path are increasingly met with skepticism, as political freedoms shrink amid the imprisonment of opposition leaders, journalists, lawyers, and civil society activists—which are now counted by the hundreds. However, the greatest danger posed by this authoritarian transition—and the most significant obstacle to democratic restoration—may lie elsewhere. Under a veneer of direct democracy, the regime is systematically neutralizing political parties, civil society organizations, unions, and media. These intermediary bodies, dismissed as outdated by the president, are vital for structuring public debate and addressing social conflicts in a democracy. Without them, the path to democratic resurgence and consolidation will be a daunting challenge.
Capitalizing on a Revolution and democratic process that have failed to deliver socially and economically, the regime has systematically caricatured democratic ideals and foundations, such as the separation of powers, freedom of speech, the rule of law, and free and fair elections and successfully associated them with tools of imperialism of a West whose double standards in these fields need no further demonstration. A democratic resurgence must involve reclaiming essential democratic concepts, not as Western inventions, but as outcomes of collective human experience. And not as elitist concepts, as has often been the case, but as genuine tools for emancipation against all forms of dominion, whether internal or external. A broad, rather than a thin, understanding of the rule of law.
What now?
As a consequence of the political apathy stemming from repression and a highly centralized decision-making process, many—especially the youth—have lost faith in the belief that collective action can address the issues arising from poor political choices. Salvation, as evidenced by the rise in migration, recreational drug use, and rampant consumerism, is now seen as an individual pursuit. And what better way to subjugate people to a specific political and economic order than to dismantle networks of solidarity between individuals and communities?
While writing this post, the results of the presidential election have just been announced: a staggering victory for the incumbent, who secured 90.62% of the vote, despite a participation rate of less than 30%. In parallel, the regime has launched a campaign of intimidation against NGOs, activists, and social movement leaders. This situation highlights the dual challenge that democratic forces in the country now face: we must resist increasing repression while convincing Tunisian citizens that authoritarian populism is a dead end that must be actively opposed.
Global solidarity with these democratic forces will be crucial in the months and years ahead. Platforms like Global Network of Movement Lawyers (stewarded by Movement Law Lab) can play a critical role by offering multi-faceted support and solidarity. Social movements—particularly those in Latin America fighting for justice and dignity—can provide powerful inspiration for Tunisian ones. In Brazil, for example, these movements became a key platform for intersectional struggles against Bolsonaro’s regime, ultimately helping restore democratic leftist leadership.
The battle is also legal. The Global Network of Movement Lawyers can serve as an important learning platform, helping members develop innovative resources for legal protection against state repression and judicial harassment, as well as impactful litigation strategies. Finally, in a global context dominated by wars and conflicts, the frenzy and algorithms of social networks, and the sensationalism of mainstream media, such platforms are essential in keeping Tunisia’s democratic experience relevant and part of the international conversation.
