Editor's Note: Natalia Rankine-Galloway's post is a special feature to Her Blueprint in response to the recent outbreak of violence in Tunisia. Natalia is a mother of one, military spouse, and
managing partner of Culture Baby. A global nomad, she is always
traveling and frequently blogging about culture, motherhood,
entrepreneurship, and her favorite destinations. You can read more at culturebabyblog.com.
As we stood side by side at the window watching crowds gather outside the US Embassy in Tunis, I asked Leila how things got so bad. She just shook her head. “This isn’t my country anymore” she said, “it used to be beautiful.”
The violence that has gripped Tunisia in recent days was as shocking and sudden for me, a recent transplant, as it was for many Tunisians. Sporadic incidents of unrest had been reported around the country since the Jasmine Revolution of early 2011, but they had mostly involved the breaking of bottles of alcohol at tourist hotels or riots surrounding a controversial art exhibit.
Neither Leila or I knew as we parted ways that afternoon that by the next morning the Embassy would be smoldering and that the order to evacuate all but non-emergency personnel would part us.
I began this post before the attack; my subject was to have been what the revolution meant for women in the new Tunisia. As I sit back at my computer now and revisit what I wrote, I can’t help but think of my last talk with Leila.
Leila, a working mother of two, had never worn a hijab or head scarf until after Jasmine revolution that launched the Arab Spring and deposed long-time dictator Zine el- Abidine Ben-Ali. Under the old regime, wearing even a simple hijab could invite harassment by police. Full-body coverings like the niqab were almost never seen.
It is counter intuitive to a Western observer to associate an authoritarian dictatorship in the Arab world with vehemently secular policies and an emphasis on women’s rights. But such is the legacy of Tunisia’s first president, Habib Bourguiba.
The famous Tunisian founding father, who requested the epitaph “liberator of women” be carved on his mausoleum, made the equality of the sexes among his top priorities upon Tunisia’s independence in 1956. Not solely on the issue of women’s rights, Bourguiba considered Islam writ-large an anchor around his efforts to modernize Tunisia and vigorously repressed Islamic opposition throughout his 30-year rule. When his grip on power weakened as he aged, an undercurrent of protest finally led to Ben-Ali’s takeover in 1987.
Ben Ali was even more authoritarian than his predecessor, cracking down on any political opposition to include Muslim conservatism. At the same time, however, he instituted practical reforms like access to education and family planning; reforms that have resulted in Tunisia having some of the lowest infant mortality rates, highest percentage of female university students and highest female life expectancy of any country in the Muslim world.
It is confusing to see a record of advancement on women’s rights set against a curtailing of basic human rights. Perhaps it was this incongruity that helped Ben Ali, who tightly controlled the country’s outward facing image, maintain his police state for so long; using the issue of women’s rights as a show pony that could be trotted out as evidence of his country’s modernity and freedoms.
But the Jasmine revolution shattered that facade. It was a remarkable and peaceful revolution with global repercussions followed by a more remarkable and peaceful election almost one year ago. The Ennahda party, a moderate Islamist party that had been banned under Ben Ali since 1992 was elected to power and has been laboring to present the nation with its new constitution, due next month.
As we stood side by side at the window watching crowds gather outside the US Embassy in Tunis, I asked Leila how things got so bad. She just shook her head. “This isn’t my country anymore” she said, “it used to be beautiful.”
 |
| Tunisia is the northernmost country in Africa and lies along the Mediterranean Sea. |
Neither Leila or I knew as we parted ways that afternoon that by the next morning the Embassy would be smoldering and that the order to evacuate all but non-emergency personnel would part us.
I began this post before the attack; my subject was to have been what the revolution meant for women in the new Tunisia. As I sit back at my computer now and revisit what I wrote, I can’t help but think of my last talk with Leila.
Leila, a working mother of two, had never worn a hijab or head scarf until after Jasmine revolution that launched the Arab Spring and deposed long-time dictator Zine el- Abidine Ben-Ali. Under the old regime, wearing even a simple hijab could invite harassment by police. Full-body coverings like the niqab were almost never seen.
It is counter intuitive to a Western observer to associate an authoritarian dictatorship in the Arab world with vehemently secular policies and an emphasis on women’s rights. But such is the legacy of Tunisia’s first president, Habib Bourguiba.
The famous Tunisian founding father, who requested the epitaph “liberator of women” be carved on his mausoleum, made the equality of the sexes among his top priorities upon Tunisia’s independence in 1956. Not solely on the issue of women’s rights, Bourguiba considered Islam writ-large an anchor around his efforts to modernize Tunisia and vigorously repressed Islamic opposition throughout his 30-year rule. When his grip on power weakened as he aged, an undercurrent of protest finally led to Ben-Ali’s takeover in 1987.
Ben Ali was even more authoritarian than his predecessor, cracking down on any political opposition to include Muslim conservatism. At the same time, however, he instituted practical reforms like access to education and family planning; reforms that have resulted in Tunisia having some of the lowest infant mortality rates, highest percentage of female university students and highest female life expectancy of any country in the Muslim world. It is confusing to see a record of advancement on women’s rights set against a curtailing of basic human rights. Perhaps it was this incongruity that helped Ben Ali, who tightly controlled the country’s outward facing image, maintain his police state for so long; using the issue of women’s rights as a show pony that could be trotted out as evidence of his country’s modernity and freedoms.
But the Jasmine revolution shattered that facade. It was a remarkable and peaceful revolution with global repercussions followed by a more remarkable and peaceful election almost one year ago. The Ennahda party, a moderate Islamist party that had been banned under Ben Ali since 1992 was elected to power and has been laboring to present the nation with its new constitution, due next month.
