Previously suppressed artists and activists are starting to get a taste of freedom from the regime, writes RUADHÁN Mac CORMAICin Tunis
AS SOON as the huge Tunisian flag was unfurled, the crowd of hundreds pressed into the dark, cavernous theatre to let out a deafening cheer and launched into the national anthem as one.
The moment was electric, brimming with emotion and, while it lasted, the Quatrième Art theatre on Avenue de Paris felt like the heart of a great social convulsion. Several artists’ unions had called on their members to meet at the theatre yesterday to regroup after a tumultuous few days and plot their next move.
One by one, writers, actors, directors and stage hands took their turn at the mic, each greeted with raucous cheers. “I call on you to be tolerant,” said a woman’s voice. “Please, let’s be tolerant! Let’s show solidarity! Stay together to save Tunisia!” Overnight, Tunisia’s artists and intellectuals have gained the sort of freedoms denied for a generation by the Zine al-Abedine Ben Ali regime.
“The Tunisians are finally proud to be Tunisians,” said Mourad Ben Cheikh, a film producer. “We have rediscovered our consciousness of citizenship. When we sing the national anthem now, it’s with a feeling we’ve never had. We haven’t stopped singing it [since Ben Ali fled].” In the tightly controlled society presided over by Ben Ali, censorship was widespread and the artistic and intellectual community was viewed with suspicion. Newspapers were mouthpieces for the regime, suspect books were confiscated by customs officials and websites were routinely blocked.
Monia Ben Jemai, a law professor and member of the Tunisian Association of Women Democrats, says as an “openly left-wing group that upheld democratic values”, it was prevented from operating in anything but name. “We always had police at the door of our office. Every time we wanted to hold a conference, we’d find it impossible to secure a venue. The press never covered our events or paid us any attention. We were banned from public gatherings.”
Their e-mails were intercepted and one of their prominent members was “beaten systematically”, Ben Jemai added.
Her satisfaction is total. “It’s wonderful. I’m very happy. We’re all congratulating each other. We’re crying with happiness.”
Many observers wonder whether events in Tunisia could set off a domino effect, inspiring democratic agitation elsewhere in the Arab world. Much as they might hope, some here point out Tunisia’s large middle class has always been oriented towards France, Italy and other European countries, and a sense of Tunisian exceptionalism runs deep.
“Tunisia is a very singular case in the Arab world, and not just for the past year or two,” said Mourad Ben Cheikh, pointing to its high education rates and the position of women.
Notwithstanding that, it is widely believed here that Tunisian society has begun to look towards its Arab neighbours in the past 15 years, particularly with the spread of satellite TV. “Today they watch a huge amount of Arab satellite TV. So they oriented towards the Arab world much more than before.” The relief among those gathered at the theatre could not conceal the divisions among them on the new coalition government and the country’s future.
The ever-present violence was also inescapable: the theatre doors had to be locked as protesters outside fled another volley of tear gas canisters.
As he waited to leave, Slah Mosbah, a well-known actor and singer in Tunisia, recounted how he was taken by police on Friday, beaten and racially abused before being released after three days.
“They wanted to know if I belonged to a terrorist organisation,” he said. “Was I active? – that sort of thing. They had all kinds of accusations.”
But Mosbah suspects he was held for another reason. “It was their last revenge, because they knew I was against the regime.”