Entretien avec Alaya Allani (spécialiste de l’Islam politique et radical au Maghreb) «Ennahdha sacrifie ses alliés» - An interview with Alaya Allani (specialist in political and radical Islam in North Africa) - "al-Nahda is sacrificing its allies"

Le mouvement a choisi le rapprochement avec l’opposition 
au prix de la confrontation avec Ansar Echaria...

   

Guest contributor, Dr. Alaya Alani, is professor of contemporary history at Manouba University in Tunisia.  The following is an interview with La Presse, an independent Tunisian newspaper, on September 9, 2013, that was  conducted by Hedia Barakat.

La décision du gouvernement de classer Ansar Echaria organisation terroriste signe-t-elle, comme on pourrait le croire, une réelle démarcation entre le mouvement Ennahdha et son allié radical ?

Je ne crois pas que cette décision puisse toucher à la profondeur idéologique de leur lien de parenté. Ansar Echaria est une branche de l’Islam radical idéologiquement proche des Frères musulmans car tous deux projettent l’application de la charia et le retour du Califat, à plus ou moins long terme. Les Frères Musulmans, descendants de Hassan Al Banna, suivent deux dogmes fondamentaux : l’intégration totale entre la politique et la religion et le jihad de différents moyens pour l’application de ce dogme. Parmi les slogans du fondateur, « l’Islam a besoin  d’un  Coran et d’une épée ». 

C’est  là que s’inscrit la proximité idéologique des deux courants. Et c’est là que l’on comprend le refus catégorique de Ghannouchi, exprimé en juillet 2012, lors du congrès de son parti, quant à la séparation entre le religieux et le politique dans la stratégie d’Ennahdha. 

Du reste, slogans démocratiques et souscription au projet d’Etat civil sont juste venus déguiser cette idéologie. Quand on observe le parcours des Frères Musulmans, on découvre dans leur littérature des années 1970, qu’ils étaient clairement hostiles à l’idée de la démocratie et à l’Occident. Pendant leur exil, il y a eu une petite évolution du fait de leur relation avec  cet Occident. 

Mais ils ont été à ce jour incapables de souscrire au système universel des droits humains. Qu’ils soient islamistes ou jihadistes, ceux qui croient au slogan d’Al Banna continuent à exprimer leur opposition à la démocratie, à l’exemple des partis et des courants salafistes en Tunisie. Tous sont les descendants naturels des Frères. En Tunisie, une bonne partie des jeunes d’Ennahdha a rejoint les groupes salafistes. Les autres continuent à suivre les directives de l’aile dure.

La crise politique et les tentatives de négociation ont détourné l’opinion de la question terroriste. Comment expliquez-vous la crise que traverse le régime islamiste deux ans après sa prise du pouvoir ?

 Pris de court par le Printemps arabe, le courant des Frères Musulmans a été surpris par le pouvoir. Il n’a pas clarifié, ni politiquement, ni économiquement, ni culturellement, ni idéologiquement, ses orientations. Il n’a pas conçu un référent culturel de l’Islam politique : la notion de modernité, le projet de société, le sens de l’Islam modéré.

Le mouvement Ennahdha déclare appartenir à l’Islam modéré mais englobe les salafistes les plus radicaux en son sein. A cause de cette dualité, les Frères Musulmans ont eu le pouvoir mais ne se sont pas forgés avec. Et quand on parle de l’aile modérée ou libérale, il s’agit d’une petite minorité qui n’a pas de grande influence sur le mouvement. 

Dans sa majorité, le courant s’est plutôt radicalisé. Il a considéré le pouvoir comme une conquête « ghazoua » et « ghanima » et a aussitôt rejeté l’idée de l’alternance. Sur le terrain politique et social, il a échoué à convaincre l’opinion de l’efficacité de sa thèse basée sur l’intégration de l’espace religieux et de l’espace politique.

De son côté, la chute des Frères Musulmans en Egypte et au Mali a été fatale. Ces transformations régionales montrent que l’Islam politique ne peut pas être un modèle politique et un modèle de société. La chute de Morsi a poussé les jihadistes à émigrer du Nord du Mali vers l’Afrique du Nord et à renforcer les tendances radicales au Sinaï . Depuis les attaques jihadistes au Sinaï se sont multipliées par trois. 

A l’intérieur, il y a la crise économique, sociale et sécuritaire qui a unifié, pour la première fois dans l’histoire du pays, les partis de l’opposition, l’Ugtt, l’Utica, l’Ordre des avocats et la Ligue tunisienne des droits de l’Homme. Devant cette nouvelle configuration, le parti au pouvoir a dû faire un choix difficile : pour se rapprocher de ses adversaires, Ennahdha a décidé de sacrifier ses alliés. Plusieurs observateurs considèrent que ces derniers ont servi de simples boucs émissaires dans les négociations.

Dans un communiqué publié il y a une semaine, Ansar Echaria nie toute responsabilité dans les assassinats des soldats du mont Châambi. Quelle lecture en faites-vous ? 

Ce communiqué arrive très en retard ; les dirigeants d’Ansar Echaria ont attendu la réaction de l’opinion publique. Ils ont réagi après la décision de création de la zone tampon. Car celle-ci va réduire fatalement le trafic juteux de la fuite des armes, des marchandises et de blanchiment d’argent qui leur bénéficiaient. Ils nient toute responsabilité dans le massacre du mont Châambi et demandent à Ennahdha de ne pas poursuivre les membres du groupe et de négocier avec eux. 

Ce ton de « mouhadana » (répit) veut épargner aux groupes les conséquences de la pression qui va s’exercer sur eux du fait de la zone tampon. Qui va renforcer la coordination entre les services tunisiens et étrangers et limiter la mobilité des jihadistes et leurs marchandises. La Tunisie sera plus en sécurité dans le contexte d’une collaboration étroite avec l’Algérie. En créant sa propre zone tampon sur la frontière nord avec la Tunisie, l’Algérie a pu  découvrir 120 dépôts d’armes. 

Enfin, ce communiqué est à inscrire dans le contexte de recherche d’un rapprochement entre islamistes et jihadistes, puisque Ansar Echaria savent qu’une partie majoritaire d’Ennahdha ne s’oppose pas à eux sur le plan idéologique. Les déclarations des Ourimi, Ellouze et Chourou, parlant au nom d’Ennahdha ne les contrediront pas.

Quelles sont, pour le mouvement Ennahdha, les raisons de cette décision et de son timing ? La menace d’une prise de pouvoir violente et imminente de ce groupe en Tunisie est-elle plausible ? 

D’abord, ce classement devait être provisoire en attendant un arrêté judiciaire. Mais il y a eu une grande précipitation pour prendre une décision politique, en raison des pressions intérieures et extérieures. Le gouvernement Ennahdha voulait améliorer son image auprès de l’opposition et de l’opinion et prouver sa démarcation du courant salafiste jihadiste. 

Toutefois, je ne crois pas à la version du ministère de l’Intérieur selon laquelle ce groupe projetait l’instauration imminente d’un émirat. Je ne crois pas qu’il soit capable d’y arriver même avec les armes. Je ne pense pas que les mouvements jihadistes aient un avenir dans le pays parce qu’ils n’ont pas une base sociale. 

La thèse selon laquelle Ansar Echaria travaille dans la perspective qu’Ennahdha reste cinq ans au pouvoir est la plus crédible. Chacun des deux courants a besoin de ces cinq ans pour se positionner durablement. Ansar Echaria n’a cessé d’affirmer que la Tunisie est une terre de prêche et non de jihad. Son objectif était de rassurer l’opinion publique afin de permettre à Ennahdha d’élargir son alliance avec lui. 

Mais ce qu’on a découvert après les évènements de Châambi et la conférence de presse du ministère de l’intérieur est un tout autre visage. Pour de nombreux observateurs, le ton conciliant d’Ansar Echaria n’aura été qu’une approche tactique pour s’implanter en profondeur dans le pays. 

Ses membres sont passés de 800 en 2012 à presque 5000 en 2013 en raison de la politique de tolérance menée par Ennahdha: absence de contrôle des associations caritatives étrangères qui les financent, facilité de déploiement des tentes, d’organisation de caravanes, occupation des mosquées, trafics et contrebande, relations  étroites avec Jabhat Al Nosra en Syrie... Ansar Echaria est infiltré par les services de renseignements du gouvernement au pouvoir. Il faut préciser, par ailleurs, que la pression sur Ansar Echaria ne concerne pas que la Tunisie mais le monde arabe en général. 

Pour l’Occident, ce courant en relation directe avec Al Qaïda commence à nuire aux intérêts des sociétés exportatrices de pétrole. Il bloque et ralentit l’exportation, comme en Libye où le pétrole est en train de sortir des circuits habituels et de lui profiter. Les Américains ont commencé par classifier Jabhat Al Nossra, organisation terroriste. En Tunisie, c’est le commencement de la confrontation. Le reste se déroulera by steps...

Pour Ennahdha, la lutte contre le terrorisme constitue un plaidoyer pour la légitimité et une bonne raison pour rester au pouvoir. Pour l’opposition, c’est ce qui accélèrerait plutôt sa chute. Qu’en est-il en réalité ?

 La réalité est que la confrontation avec les terroristes a complètement changé la donne en Tunisie. Par rapport à l’étape succédant à l’assassinat de Chokri Belaïd, Ennahdha n’a plus un grand choix. Il y a le dossier du terrorisme mais il y a de surcroît la crise économique et financière, il y a l’unification entre les organisations nationales et l’opposition. Ces facteurs nouveaux ne lui laissent plus une véritable marge de manœuvre. 

Mais le blocage vient du fait qu’Ennahdha ne se voit pas dans le scénario d’un parti qui a quitté le gouvernement. Ni ses dirigeants, ni ses partisans ne s’imaginent en dehors du pouvoir. L’appareil installé en deux ans dans l’administration pour servir les élections en est la meilleure illustration. Extrêmement affaibli mais rigide, Ennahdha essaiera de tenir jusqu’à la dernière seconde. C’est l’opposition qui devra mettre les limites et fixer les délais. Le prolongement des négociations tue les négociations. Il est nécessaire de fixer un délai. Je pense aussi que le rôle de l’ANC doit être limité dans le temps.

Quelles seraient les contrecoups du classement d’Ansar Echaria groupe terroriste ?

Ils seront jugés selon la loi antiterroriste de novembre 2003. Cette loi ne sera pas abolie mais connaîtra quelques modifications intégrant la dimension des droits de l’Homme. La conséquence pénale et (jinaya) consistera dans l’interdiction de ses activités et la poursuite et le démantèlement des réseaux de financement, l’extradition de ses membres installés dans les pays étrangers, par le lancement d’un mandat international. 

L’autre conséquence est que la Tunisie sera plus en sécurité dans le contexte d’une collaboration étroite avec l’Algérie. La proclamation de l’émirat de l’Afrique du Nord a incité l’Algérie à collaborer avec les services tunisiens parce que le danger jihadiste a laissé ses empruntes à travers l’opération Aïn Aminas et autres opérations terroristes dans les pays du Maghreb. 

Maillon faible, la Libye restera un élément d’infiltration des terroristes et des armes. D’où la nécessité de la zone tampon pour une période indéterminée ; soit tant que le terrorisme menace la région du Maghreb. Les régions montagneuses sont déjà sous contrôle militaire. Les zones urbaines vont s’y ajouter pour permettre de contrôler la circulation des personnes et des marchandises par les militaires. 

Le coup serait fatal pour l’économie jihadiste. La zone tampon va réduire au maximum les ressources des mouvements terroristes qui vivaient de contrebande, de trafic d’armes et de blanchiment d’argent. Le trafic d’armes se fait avec celui des marchandises ce qui donne des mêmes containers pour des bananes et des Kalachnikovs. Il faudra, dès lors, trouver des projets économiques et des solutions urgentes pour les régions du Sud-Ouest qui vivaient de la contrebande.

A la lumière de la crise politique et de la confrontation entre Ennahdha et son allié radical, peut-on encore imaginer les configurations à venir du paysage politique ? 

L’Occident soutenait une cohabitation entre Islam et démocratie considérant que l’Islam politique est un courant modéré. Mais après l’expérience menée en Egypte et en Tunisie, il découvre que l’Islam politique est resté plus attaché aux normes du conservatisme et du radicalisme que de la modernité. Néanmoins, les occidentaux craignent que la chute définitive des Islamistes laisse place aux radicaux. Ils essaient de faire un tri qui va favoriser la montée de l’aile libérale et la formation d’une aile salafiste réformiste non jihadiste. 

Ce qui se passe en Egypte prouve cette démarche. Ceux qui ont soutenu le Général Sissi représentent l’Islam local représenté par Cheickh Al Azhar et les salafistes réformistes représentés par le parti Ennour dont le chef a publié un article critiquant la politique aventuriste des Frères Musulmans. Le modèle tunisien serait, quant à lui, basé sur la conception d’un Islam modéré dans une démocratie moderniste et une identité moderniste où la branche libérale de l’Islam modéré serait représentée à sa juste mesure. 

Les chances de succès de ce modèle dépendent de la solution de la crise politique actuelle.
Entretemps, les derniers sondages effectués en  ont donné aux Islamistes des proportions qui ne dépassent pas 15 % dans un modèle associant l’Islam modéré aux libéraux et à la gauche. Le gouvernement d’après les élections serait, selon ces mêmes sondages, composé de trois formations : les libéraux à 35 %, les Islamistes à 15% et une formation des tendances socio-démocrates et de la gauche à 9 %. 

C’est le pari pour la Tunisie, dans le plus proche avenir, et à plus long terme en Egypte ou, dans les coulisses, l’on traite déjà avec la jeunesse libérale des Frères Musulmans qui serait intégrée dans le paysage politique.
 

 « Ansar Echaria » : Dans la lignée des Frères… sous la bannière d’Al-Qaïda
Apparu simultanément dans 7 pays musulmans dont la Tunisie, la Libye, le Mali et le Yémen, au lendemain du «printemps arabe», le groupe Ansar Echaria est considéré par les spécialistes des courants jihadistes comme la «branche civile» d’Al-Qaïda.
Pour Mazen Chérif, analyste militaire et stratégique, sur la totalité de 10.000 salafistes entre quiétistes et jihadistes en Tunisie, Ansar Echaria compterait près de 4.000 membres. De par son organisation cellulaire — cellules vivantes et autres dormantes —, le groupe Ansar Echaria échappe encore au recensement précis  et se classe, à l’instar d’Al-Qaïda,  comme une nébuleuse. Créé en avril 2011 sous la conduite d’Abou Yadh, fraîchement amnistié, et ses disciples de cellule, Ansar Echaria s’inscrit dans la continuité du groupe des Combattants tunisiens (Les Afghans tunisiens) créé en 2000 en Afghanistan et dont les rangs se sont consolidés lors de la période carcérale d’Abou Yadh (2003 – 2011).
Engagé dans une épreuve de force avec l’Etat tunisien dont il rejette les lois et les institutions, Ansar Echaria est un groupe salafiste jihadiste qui prône le takfir et le jihad physique et verbal et se revendique de la mouvance Al-Qaïda dont il partage l’idéologie et la fidélité à l’esprit encore et toujours vivace de Ben Laden.
En raison de l’indulgence du gouvernement issu du scrutin du 23 octobre, d’une accumulation record de biens financiers, introduits pour la plupart de l’étranger, et d’une multiplication des activités de contrebande et de trafic d’armes, Ansar Echaria est devenu, en deux ans, le groupe dominant de la mouvance salafiste dont il a réussi à rassembler l’aile jihadiste.

Profondément implantés dans les quartiers populaires, ses chefs et ses prédicateurs manipulent et recrutent massivement une jeunesse à l’abandon parmi laquelle il est difficile de distinguer entre les jihadistes convaincus, les délinquants repentis et les agents de renseignements... Selon différentes sources, le groupe a été largement infiltré par les services de renseignements du ministère de l’Intérieur.

Entre ce groupe takfiriste jihadiste et l’organisation des Frères musulmans, les analystes parlent d’un lien indéfectible et d’un référent idéologique commun : Hassan Al Banna, fondateur des Frères musulmans dont le slogan majeur dit : « L’Islam c’est le Coran et l’épée ».

Accusé d’être à l’origine des assassinats de Chokri Belaïd, Mohamed Brahmi et des soldats du mont Chaâmbi, Ansar Echaria a été classé comme une organisation terroriste, le 28 août 2013, par le chef du gouvernement, Ali Laârayedh. Un mandat d’arrêt international a été lancé contre son chef Abou Yadh qui, à plusieurs reprises, a échappé à la police tunisienne, en dépit de son implication dans les évènements de l’ambassade des Etats-Unis, ses appels à la violence et les déclarations publiques de son appartenance à Al-Qaïda.  H.B.

La Presse 09 septembre 2013 (journal tunisien quotidien independant) link

http://www.lapresse.tn/09092013/72082/ennahdha-sacrifie-ses-allies.html

The crisis in Egypt: Notes from Rabaa al-Adawiya

Rabaa al-Adawiya protestors

This post was submitted by a guest contributor who prefers to remain anonymous.

In response to the events of June 30^th and the subsequent actions of the Egyptian military, sit-ins were held in Rabaa Al-Adawiya (Rabi'a al-Adawiya) in Nasr City and al-Nahda in Giza for a period of over 40 days. 

Accurate depictions of what was actually occurring in the sit-ins were hard to come by as the government seemed to make efforts to portray the sit-ins in a negative light and the protesters attempted to appeal to the international media with possibly skewed depictions of what was really going on inside the camps. 

The truth is usually somewhere in between. After feeling that I was unable to assess the sit-ins from news reports alone, I decided to visit Rabaa Al-Adaweya on the last day of Ramadan, one week before the sit-in was dispersed. 

I arrived at the Rabaa Al-Adeweya sit-in around 5pm with a friend whose father was in the sit-in. I wore a full black abaya, hijab, underscarf, and sleeves and could have easily been mistaken for an Egyptian. At the entrance, we encountered a sex segregated security checkpoint. A young, smiling woman searched my bag, gave me a pat-down, and checked my ID. As she viewed my French passport, she continued to smile and made conversation with me, attempting to figure out why I was there. After explaining that I had lived in Cairo for many years she sent me on my way.

As my friend and I began to walk through the sit-in, young men kept spraying us with water because it was hot. My friend became annoyed, as might occur when one continues to be unexpectedly sprayed in the face, and started to demand that they give him the spray bottle so he could spray them back in the face. The sit-in consisted of a sea of tents lined up in the form of a makeshift city. There was ample room to navigate the streets dividing the tents, and the level of organization was striking. 

There were a few men near the entrance lined up with hard hats and large sticks, but those were the only type of “weapons” I encountered throughout my visit. The atmosphere was almost festive, with swings and playground equipment for children, street vendors selling clothes, accessories, and tea, and later in the day, my friend even purchased a stencil set from a vendor. 

The sit-in was very clean and there were sweepers moving around maintaining the area. In fact, the Raba'a sit-in was cleaner than many areas of Cairo, though I would not say that that is a very high standard to which to be held. There were security personnel with orange vests, hard hats, and large flashlights walking around. As a woman, I felt relaxed, as there was no harassment or fights in the camp. 

All the tents had posters hanging on them in Arabic, English, French, and a few in German and even Russian. There were posters depicting Morsi, which read, “No to the coup,” in Arabic and a poster with a woman saying, “Killing won’t silence my voice,” in English. There were other posters with the words “We want the president and parliament,” “Anti-coup,” “Where is my ballot?” and “The revolution continues,” referring to January 25,^, 2011. I even saw a sign with an Otpor fist. 

There were also a number of posters of martyrs with the face of the martyr in normal times and then another of the martyr on a respirator or dead and mutilated. One poster that caught my eye depicted a number of dead individuals lined up and said, “Paid for by U.S. tax dollars.” Young men were also walking around with posters on sticks, some with faces of martyrs on them. Throughout the sit-in one could observe many Egyptian flags.

When my companion and I arrived at the stage, the crowd was sex segregated. Nearby, I encountered a hanging effigy of the minister of interior (my friend identified who it was supposed to be) and a donkey was walking around with a boot hanging around his neck. Young children were standing on the stage in a row singing songs and later they remained on the stage while a boy around five years old took the microphone to lead anti-American and anti-government chants. One of the chants in the sit-in was, “Get out get out military rule.” 

We then made our way to my friend’s father’s tent. The tent was decorated with Sponge Bob and Mickey Mouse long balloons, which I thought was a little strange when later we started praying and we were praying in the direction of the balloons. In Islam, a person is not supposed to pray with pictures in front of him so that it does not seem as if he is praying to the picture instead of to God. 

The tent was all male, five Muslim Brotherhood members and the rest all independents. My friend whispered to me not to shake his father’s hand, as many conservative Muslim men will not touch a woman who is not a family member. The men of the tent were reserved but welcoming, and quickly provided a chair for me. I had a quick chat with my friend’s father about being French and converting to Islam, and then I read Qur’an in Arabic until it was time to break the fast.

The people walking around Rabaa looked like anyone walking down the streets of Cairo. There were men with beards, men without beards, women in niqab, women in hijab and abaya, and women in regular skirts, shirts and hijab. I only saw one or two women without head coverings. There were a number of couples strolling, as were families, children, and groups of men and groups of women. They looked mostly middle and lower class, but of course I cannot be sure. 

When it was time to break our fast, we had dates, water and juice, and then all of Rabaa prayed simultaneously in the tents before eating the iftar meal, in which Muslims break the daily Ramadan fast. I prayed behind the men in the tent, but in many tents that had both sexes, women and men were separated by a curtain. Each tent was like a mosque. One had to take off his shoes before entering. That way, people could pray in the tent. We had chicken and rice for iftar. I brought sweets and there were grapes for dessert. We also had tea and mango juice. It felt like a normal iftar I would have had anywhere in Cairo. 

I did not want to ask too many questions (for personal safety reasons), but I did ask one man whether or not he thought Morsi had done a good job as president. He told me Morsi did not have enough time in office to prove himself. He also spoke about “Islamic democracy,” but I did not have time to ask him how he defined the term. My friend’s father also mentioned something about the protest being a fight for religion. When we realized that the 'Eid had arrived, fireworks were set off all over the camp. 

Though I was dreading the inevitable, eventually after five hours I had use the bathroom, so we went on a half hour quest for a toilet. As my friend and I walked around, I felt like I was in a fair. One tent even had a sign posted that said, “Artists for Morsi.” I realized the protest site reached right up to the sides of residential buildings. The buildings seemed to be closed up and I wondered if people were trapped inside or if they had moved out. Radio Shack, a bank, and other businesses were closed, but I did not see any evidence of damage to the stores. 

At one point we walked by a tent that seemed to be holding some kind of press conference. One of the women sitting at the table was not wearing a hijab. I personally did not see any TVs in the camp and it seemed that most information was coming from a man speaking on a loud speaker who, according to my friend, talked 24 hours per day. The man on the speaker kept speaking about legitimacy and democracy. 

While we had to enter Rabaa through a checkpoint, when my friend’s father drove us home, we just walked through the protest and left through a space between two tents to his car, which was waiting right outside. A lot of people would go to work during the day, then go to Rabaa before iftar and stay for the evening or overnight. That meant that the person in traffic next to me or the man or woman at the grocery store might also be a Rab'aa protester. 

When I was in Rabaa, one man said he had one son in the military, one in the Rabaa protests, and one in the anti-Morsi protests. Another man I interviewed on another day who participated in the anti-Morsi protests said his mother is Salafi, his father is pro-Mubarak, and he protested on January 25, 2011 and on June 30, 2013. What can be seen is that it is not different groups of people who are divided in Egypt, it is different people within the same family, apartment building, or community.

The purpose of this piece is not to paint the Rabaa sit-in in a rosy light nor to demonize it. My aim is simply to depict what I saw and to try to understand why the people were there. While I engaged in limited conversation, from the people with whom I did speak and the posters I saw, my initial impression was that there were different people there for different reasons. 

One line that may be drawn between the 30 June protesters and those attending the Rabaa sit-in is different definitions of democracy. While there were many demonstrators on June 30th protesting Egypt's deteriorating economic conditions, the Muslim Brotherhood controlling the government, which was not inclusive, or the many embarrassing decisions made by the president, some of the protesters were in the streets because they saw democracy as a process, and though Morsi was elected, his rule was not democratic. 

Many protesters in Rabaa seemed to see democracy as elections, but not necessarily a process. One man I interviewed who was pro-Morsi, but not at the sit-in, said he voted for Morsi and then voted “yes” in the constitutional referendum because, if he voted for Morsi, he had to support everything he did. When I interviewed some members of the lower classes who were anti-Morsi, they defined democracy as “when their lives get better.” 

In terms of the less educated members of Egyptian society who are more concerned with putting food on the table, I think some were swayed by the pro-Morsi camp and others by the anti-Morsi camp that their lives would get better one way or the other.  In some ways they are the same people. To understand democracy as a process, it takes education, particularly education on what democracy means. Among the lower classes, I have found few definitions of democracy that go beyond freedom of expression and fairness. In reference to the man at Rabaa who spoke about Islamic democracy, I am not sure exactly what the term means, but I do not think it means what many common definitions of democracy imply. It seems that Islamic democracy leans more toward an Islamic state, rather than democracy. 

The sign I saw that said, “The revolution continues” points to different interpretations of the January 2011 protests.  As can be seen from many revolutions in history, protesters may agree that they want to remove the regime, but they usually do not agree on what should come next. While “bread, freedom, and social justice” was the 2011 Revolution's slogan, there does not seem to be consensus on how to achieve these demands. For many at Rabaa, Islam was the answer (Islam al-hall). 

Those who did not understand why the members of the Rabaa sit-in did not leave when asked to by the government and even remained when there was a clear threat of violence by the police against protesters, forget that many at the sit-in also protested on January 28, 2011 and the following days. If they did not leave Tahrir during the Revolution when the government asked them to leave and police were shooting at them, why would they leave Rabaa under the same threats, particularly if in their minds they were continuing the Revolution? Of course particularly with Islamists, there is often the additional promise of martyrdom. 

Finally, while there were many at Rabaa who were members of Islamist groups or who supported the Islamist agenda, there were others who simply wanted to know where their vote had gone. For those who see democracy as elections, rather than as a process, they may have voted for Islamists in the parliamentary elections, and then the parliament was dissolved, and they may have voted for Morsi, and then he was deposed. There were some at Rabaa who may have just been unhappy about the Egyptian population not giving Morsi his four years and that every time Islamists were elected, somehow they were removed.

In sum, I want to emphasize that this piece is not a justification for or an attack on the Rabaa protest, but is a description of what I saw and some conclusions I have made. I never saw any weapons in the sit-in and others I have talked to did not either. At the same time, many journalists reported that torture was taking place under the stage, there were men with weapons in specific areas, and dead tortured bodies were found near the sit-ins. 

I do not dispute these reports, but from my own experience, I wonder if families with children knew of the violence that was going on or whether the violence and weapons were concealed from the average protester. If I had attended the sit-in everyday with the experience I had, I might not have believed that there were weapons in the camp and may have thought that the news reports were bogus. However, there were films of speeches made on the stage that implied violence. Without further interviews, we will not know what the members of sit-ins knew or did not know and they may not be inclined to admit to knowing about weapons or expressions of violence if they were aware.   

All I know is what I saw at Rabaa, that approximately 1,000 pro-Morsi protesters were killed by security forces in a week starting seven days after I visited Rabaa, and that every week now there are reports of bombings, attempted bombings, and armed attacks on state institutions,the  military and security forces, and Egypt's infrastructure.

Will sectarianism destroy Iraq? Part 2: Iraq is not Syria

Iraqis protesting parliament salaries

Recently I wrote a post, "Will sectarianism destroy Iraq?"  Part 1: the counterattack by Iraqi youth."  I attempted to show that Iraqi youth not only reject sectarianism but have worked to create organizations and projects designed to fight it.  Because 70% of Iraq's population is under 30, this is a welcome sign for the future.

But are Iraqi youth the only countervailing force to the spread of sectarian identities in Iraq?  Are there other efforts and political trends that might prevent sectarianism from fragmenting Iraq?

With Iraq having been drawn into the civil war, there are those who would argue that Iraq will experience the same fate as Syria where sectarian identities have proliferated as the conflict has intensified.  But is Iraq really the same society as Syria?  Is it governed by the same political and  social dynamics?  I would argue that sectarianism certainly exists in Iraq, but that Iraq is much better situated to combat it than Syria.

Whatever one's assessment of the US invasion of Iraq, the toppling of Saddam Husayn dramatically restructured Iraqi politics. While security collapsed - in large measure due to the US decommissioning the Iraqi conscript army, the police and engaging in a counter-productive de-Ba'thification policy - Iraqis did acquire the ability to establish civil society organizations, publish news media (such as the excellent Niqash online journal), create political parties and vote in elections.

Parliamentary elections in 2005 and 2010 were free and fair and characterized by minimum violence.  Arab provincial legislative elections and the Kurdish Regional Parliament elections in 2009 attracted new candidates and parties, including the new reformist Gorran (Change) movement in the Kurdish Regional Government (KRG).  The 2010 parliamentary elections were the embodiment of a truly free election - nobody knew the outcome before the voting took place.

Syria is very different.  It has been ruled since the 1960s by the Arab Socialist Ba'th Party - the same party that ruled Iraq under Saddam Husayn - and any efforts to challenge the regime have been brutally crushed.  The most notorious act of President Bashar al-Asad's father, Hafiz al-Asad, was his indiscriminate bombing of the city of Hama in 1982 to suppress an uprising by the Syrian branch of the Muslim Brotherhood in which 20,000 people were killed, many with no relation to the  Brotherhood.

It is true that Syria is ruled by the country's Alawite minority if we consider the upper echelons of the military, political elite and intelligence services.  However, many observers fail to mention that the Asad family has forged an alliance with the wealthy Damascene Sunni (and to a lesser Kurdish and Christian) business elite which still supports the regime (which also demonstrates how simplistic it is to view the conflict in Syria strictly in sectarian terms, i.e., Sunnis against Alawites).

In Iraq, power is much less concentrated and centralized than in Syria.  Iraq has many independent civil society organizations and there are multiple political parties.  Demonstrations occur on a regular basis, usually on Fridays and Saturdays,  While the Ministry of Interior refuses to issue permits for these demonstrations and often demonstrators are beaten by the police, demonstrations continue and demonstrators are not killed by the army as they were in the southern town of al-Dara'a when Syrians began their peaceful protests in 2011.

In Iraq, many political parties exist, almost all of which are hostile to the Maliki government.  Several major parties, Arab and Kurdish, came together  in 2012 to introduce a no-confidence vote in the parliament to bring down Nuri al-Maliki because of his efforts to impose a new authoritarian regime on Iraq.  This past summer, Maliki's decline in popularity led his own party to ask him not to run for a third term as prime minister.


Iraq's political institutions are largely dysfunctional.  Nevertheless, there is a rudimentary system of checks and balances.  The Council of Deputies (national parliament) is not known for its work ethic or efficiency in passing legislation to confront the country's myriad problems.  In fact, it usually does not have enough members to obtain a quorum.

Nevertheless, the parliament has not only tried to depose Maliki through a vote of no-confidence (which was not supported by Iraq's Kurdish president, Jalal Talabani, as required by the constitution), but it has also voted to impose term limits (2 terms) on the offices of the president, prime minister and vice-prime minister.  The parliament held televised hearings in 2009 by its Integrity Committee of the former Minister of Trade, 'Abd al-Falah al-Sudani, who was ultimately forced from office and convicted of corruption.

The impact of political institutions can be seen in other ways.  When current Speaker of the Council of Deputies, Usama al-Nujayfi, was head of the al-Hadba' Party in the north-west city of Mosul - traditionally a hotbed of Sunni Pan-Arabism -  he was known for his nasty sectarian comments about Iraq's Shi'a and especially its Kurdish population.

Once he arrived in Baghdad to assume the position of speaker, Nujayfi changed his tune.  Soon he began to ingratiate himself with Shi'i and Kurdish members of parliament and quickly became known as an adroit coalition builder, winning the support of many deputies.  Realizing that if he wanted to become a political leader on the national stage, he would need to develop support among all Iraq's ethnic groups, Nujayfi became a different type of political leader.  His example offers a good example of how institutions can dramatically change the behavior of political actors once they become part of them and are subject to the structural constraints they impose.

Iraq has a vibrant civil society.  One example is the recent campaign against the excessive salaries, pensions and benefits of parliamentary delegates which began through the use of social media.  The campaign constructed a Facebook page which attracted thousands of members soon after it appeared.   The focus of Iraqi ire was the inability of the state to provide even a modicum of social services and jobs, while members of parliament and higher government officials made huge salaries and received expensive benefits.

Iraqis were particularly infuriated by the lifetime salaries and pensions that former parliament members receive.  These funds, which are tax exempt, accompany special rights to land in Baghdad which has seen a rapid increase in value since 2003.  Many former parliament members have sold their land, which was intended to allow them to reside in Baghdad while in parliament, and made large amounts of money in the process.

As the Facebook page led to massive demonstrations in all parts of the country (see al-Hayat, August 31, September 1, 3), the Ministry of Interior tried to shut down the protests by refusing to issue permits and sending the police to intimidate and beat protesters.  However, the government's actions did not deter Iraqis who continue to fill the streets of major cities and towns, in Sunni and Shi'i areas, demanding that the parliament rescind the law giving parliamentarians and former parliamentarians huge salaries and benefits.  The average cost of salaries and benefits for each member of parliament totals $518,000 per year, about 40 times the salary of the average Iraqi.

Fearful of losing the 2014 parliamentary elections, after losing seats in the 2013 Arab legislative elections this past spring, the State of Law Coalition (whose main party is Maliki's Islamic Call Party - Hizb al-Da'wa al-Islamiya), introduced a law to nullify the special  benefits reserved for former parliamentarians.  Most observers see this behavior as reflecting a fear of electoral defeat.

In what other Arab country can we observe these political dynamics?  Granted, much of the behavior of Iraq's political elite reflects cynical calculations of how to remain in power or obtain power.  Civic values are not one of the elite's strong points.  Nevertheless, there is  a system of checks and balances in Iraq that prevents any one group or political ideology from monopolizing power.

For this reason, Iraq will not degenerate into chaos in the same way as Syria.  If Maliki can be forced from office in 2014, there is no guarantee that a better national leader will take his place.  However, the fact that an Iraqi leader was foiled in his efforts to impose a new authoritarian regime will be a "shot in the arm" to those who still believe in the dream of a democratic Iraq,  In short, sectarian identities exist in Iraq but will not win out in the long run, the efforts of sectarian entrepreneurs who seek to manipulate them notwithstanding.







 

Battling Lost Memory: Tunisian Women Write the Revolution

Tunisian women demand their rights

Guest contributor, Dr. Douja Mariem Mamelouk, who recently returned from conducting research on women writers in Tunisia, is a professor of Arabic and French at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville. 

Before the Tunisian Revolution ignited on 17 December 2010, women writers did not produce politically charged texts that explicitly discussed political matters, fearing censorship.  However, after the toppling of dictator Zine al-Abidine Ben Ali, following his 23 year rule[1], women began documenting and writing the 2011 Revolution. 

This article investigates the reaction of writers such as Fethia Hechmi, Messaouda Boubakr and Amel Mokhtar to the aftermath of the Tunisian Revolution, which has yet to be examined by either Arab or Western scholars. Although not a literature of resistance (it could develop into one depending upon the local political environment), it is a literature rooted in reality and linked to daily politics.

In my interviews with authors, questions pertained to pre-Revolutionary and post-Revolutionary writing practices and the influence and involvement of the writers in political life.  The authors I interviewed contend that they must document the Revolution in their texts where reality and fiction intertwine. 

These authors'  uniqueness stems from the fact that progressive Tunisian women writers offer various perspectives on the Revolution as they expose the issues that face Tunisian society in a post-Revolutionary era.  By doing so, I believe that—whether they are conscious of it or not—they present a new feminist discourse that supports nationalism in post-Revolutionary Tunisia.

Rather than being the subject of others’ writings, they consciously choose to be active participants in documenting the Tunisian Revolution.  That way, their perspective is not a lost memory but instead they become the creators of new nationalist discourses that derive from their conceptualization of feminism.  For these Tunisian women, writing plays the role of a defense mechanism against the possibility and the attempts at silencing them by the populist religious narratives and discourses.  

During my research, I interviewed ten women novelists and short story writers for approximately two hours each.  Eight of the ten women wept when describing the effect of current political events in Tunisia on them and their disappointment with the new government that has failed to offer security and economic stability to its citizens.  In the past six months, there have been two political assassinations, while the National Constituent Assembly has yet to present Tunisians with a completed draft of the new constitution. 

Furthermore, the interviewees agreed that they no longer feel safe living in Tunisia and are haunted by the uncertainty of the future.  The intensity of these women’s frustrations with their new reality surfaced when I asked questions such as: “What do you think of the current political scene?,” or “How do you foresee the future of Tunisia?”

Another query that provoked an emotional response was: “Did the Tunisian Revolution incite nationalist and patriotic sentiments in you?” All the writers agreed that the unexpected Revolution of January 2011 inflamed their sense of patriotism.  Amel Mokhtar[2] declares, “I felt so happy and proud.  Tunisia received international recognition for toppling the dictator Ben Ali who had appeared immortal to us.” (Interview July 23, 2013).

On July 25, 2013, Tunisians celebrated Republic Day, which has been commemorated every year since Tunisia’s independence in 1956.  Under Tunisia's first president, Habib Bourguiba, as well as under Ben Ali, such national holidays were observed in an excessive manner, with celebrations and events throughout the republic. 

However, for the past two years, and since the rule of the Troika (the three-party alliance of Ennahda, Ettakattol and the Republican Congress Party), Tunisian poet and novelist Fethia Hechmi[3] maintains that we no longer see Tunisian flags raised on the streets to celebrate national holidays, which had solidified even further her sense of national belonging. She feels that the new government is attempting to erase an important part of Tunisia's national memory.

Worse yet, on July 25, 2013 Tunisians were faced with the second political assassination in their country.  A National Constituent Assembly (NCA) deputy, Mohamed Brahmi, was shot in his car in front of his house at 12:10pm according to Tunisian radio[4]. 

As with everyone else in Tunisia, women authors were affected by the second political assassination within less than six months, especially when it was learned that the same gun was used in both assassination.  Suddenly, violence shifted from being a random occurrence to becoming part of  post-Revolutionary reality. Although she is unable to predict what the future will offer to herself, her family and the rest of the nation, Fethia Hechmi revealed that she remains hopeful because without hope there is no life.

After the assassination of Mohamed Brahmi, Hechmi headed to the National Constituent Assembly to protest along with her daughter, who is an artist.  I interviewed her on the morning of July 29, 2013 and her eyes were still swollen from the tear gas that police shot at them despite their peaceful assembly.  She told me that she and her daughter were surprised to see their skins turn pink from the effect of the toxic gas.  She confessed that at times she joins protests in secret and doesn't inform her family, because she is diabetic and family members worry about her health. 

Tunisian novelist and short story writer Amel Mokhtar believes that the Revolution of 2011 should continue in the political space of post-Revolutionary Tunisia as well as in written words.  Having started a novel before the Revolution, she found herself unable to write between 17 December 2010 and 14 January 2011.  All she could do was observe the protests in the streets of Tunisia and glue herself to the al-Jazeera television channel. 

In my interview with her on 3 July 2013, she explained that in her latest novel, Dukhan al-Qasr (The Palace Smoke, 2013), she altered her writing style to reflect the revolutionary atmosphere. The characters in her novel call for a sit-in and threaten to "fire" her from her job as a writer.  She quickly resumes writing and returns to her plot in a post-Revolutionary Tunisia where the characters are divided according to their various party allegiances, just as the Tunisian people are divided between religious and secular orientations.  This is a social, cultural and political cleavage that she contends has become the reality of the so-called democratic Tunisia.  

Another innovation that Mokhtar brings to her novel is her encompassing the pre-Revolution along with the post-Revolution eras. The author interrupts the narrative line with personal accounts of the revolution. In fact, in Mokhtar’s novel, threes of the twenty-seven chapters are her record of a crucial period in Tunisia’s history. 

Messaouda Boubakr[5] informed me that the title of her latest collection of stories, Adhal ahki (I Continue Narrating, 2013), was her response as a writer to a young man who approached her while protesting in front of the National Constituent Assembly.  She says: “He told me that to shut up and go home to my kitchen where I belonged”.   
In my interview with her on 3 July 2013, she declared that her latest collection is a response to anyone who attempts to silence her.  She says that only death can silence her and it appears that she is not the only one.  All Tunisian women novelists have vowed to speak up, to break the silence and to continue the Revolution until they establish a democracy that satisfies them.

The interviews I conducted this summer reveal the unanimous stance that Tunisian women authors take in confronting their discontent with current political developments in their once peaceful country.  The lack of security, the fear and unpredictability of the future, along with mistrust of the current government are a few elements that have inflamed these women’s pens. 

The Revolution of January 2011 was a historical and joyful moment in their lives.  Yet, the contented feelings were transformed into those of frustration and disenchantment.  The possibility of Tunisia becoming a true democracy where women are equal to men, not only in the Tunisian constitution but also in everyday life, is a question that women authors cannot answer today, although they remain hopeful that a democratic civil society will eventually prevail.

Interestingly, when I interviewed these authors in 2008, they consented that they were not feminists.  When I interviewed them in the summer of 2013, they expressed that the new political environment in Tunisia has compelled them to becoming feminists.  Once they sensed that the public space was transforming into a forbidden space for women, Tunisian women writers not only took a stance in writing but they also became political active in demonstrations and in civil society organizations.  
 
Never did these women imagine that the public space would become negotiable over fifty years after the Personal Status Code (PSC) went into effect.  Unlike under Ben Ali’s regime, Tunisian authors today, threatened or not, are no longer returning to self-censorship while seeking the approval of those in power.  They all agree and shout out: “No more fear after today”, a slogan that was repeated during the Tunisian Revolution and yet is still repeated today.
____________
[1] In his article Tunisia: the Fall of the West’s Little Dictator, Esam Al-Amin says: “What took 54 weeks to accomplish in Iran was achieved in Tunisia in less than four.  The regime of President Zine al-Abidine Ben Ali represented in the eyes of his people not only the features of a suffocating dictatorship, but also the characteristics of a mafia-controlled society riddled with massive corruption and human rights abuses.” (58: 2012) excerpt from Sokari Ekine and Firoze Manji’s African Awakening: The Emerging Revolutions. Fahamu Cape Town, Dakar, Nairobi and Oxford, 2012.
[2] Amel Mokhtar is a Tunisian novelist, short story writer and a journalist in the Tunisian newspaper al-sahafa.  She publishes parts of her works and short articles on her facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/AmelMoktharEcrivaine
[3] Fethia Hechmi is a poet, short story writer and novelist.  She published her first collection of poems entitled al-Uqhuwan al-maslub ala al-shifah in 2002, Hafiat al-ruh (novel) in 2002, Minna mawwal in 2007, Mariam tasqut min yad Allah in 2009 and al-Shaytan ya‘ud min al-manfa in 2012.  She can be found on her facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/fathia.hechmi.5?fref=ts
[4] http://www.mosaiquefm.net/fr/index/a/ActuDetail/Element/23956-qui-etait-mohamed-brahmi
[5] Messaouda Boubakr is a Tunisian novelist and short story writer.  She became a political activist in civil society organizations after the Tunisian Revolution.  She has published a collection of short stories Ta‘m al-ananas in 1994, her novels Laylat al-ghiyab in 1997, Trushqana in 1999, Wada‘an Hammurabi in 2002, Juman wa ‘anbar in 2007, al-Alif wa al-nun in 2009 and Adhal ahki in 2013. One may find some of her writings on her facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/messaouda.benboubaker?fref=ts