Tunisia and Egypt: Questioning Insurrections

Both the Tunisian insurrection and the Egyptian revolt have been described in terms of an absolute evil versus an absolute good, i.e. a mean, illegitimate and greedy dictatorship in contrast with a popular insurrection. In a first snapshot one can define the insurrections as “lessons in democracy.” But the larger question is: What comes next?

In the French account of the Tunisian events, an immolated street vendor has become an emblem, or ‘root metaphor’, for the uprising. Here was a young man who had gotten himself an education but could not find a job in the corrupt economy that was controlled by the families of the former president and first lady, the Ben Ali-Trabelsi clan. Courageously, this young man tried to earn a living by acquiring a street-cart to sell vegetables. The youngster went wild with grief when the police confiscated his cart. He put himself on fire. Immediately, he became a symbolic figure, a martyr. But whose martyr will he be? Who are the future victors?

The Ambiguity of ‘NO’

These current insurrections are often described as negations of what exists. Yet, what exists is rarely unambiguous. Rejection of the former Tunisian president Ben Ali can be inspired by both a yearning for a just or free society, as well as by a desire for another sort of authoritarian society. In the case of Egypt, some analysts believe that the dismissal of Mubarak carries an obvious meaning. But of course it does not. Behind it can be both the urge to challenge a police state AND the wish to salute another type of police state. Mubarak himself is both an adversary of democracy and an enemy of fundamentalism.

The first images of the Egyptian insurrection were crowd shots, aerial views. They project unity over diversity. While the masses show unanimous fervour now, over time the picture will become more specific. Already now we can see that the champions of democracy wear hijabs, demonstrators carry banners proclaiming “Mubarak in Tel Aviv,” they stomp with their feet on American and Israeli flags, and row after row of protesters turn Tahrir Square into an open air mosque. The point is not to criticize such actions, but to stress that they seem to converge around a relatively incoherent set of motives.

This is not your typical insurrection, but a specific insurrection. Or, in other words, those who are saying ‘no’ seldom express a pure ‘no.’ They are saying no in the name of something. Simple ‘no-sayers’ will be rapidly pushed aside by those who have more substantial things to say.

Pamuk’s Choice: Scylla and Charybdis

Many possible scripts can steer the turn of events. The comments of the Turkish novelist Orhan Pamuk on Turkey, as expressed in his wonderful novel ‘Snow’ are illuminating.

Pamuk systematically explores a baffling and paradoxical situation in Turkey. On the one hand, groups that traditionally support military dictatorships advocate ‘progressive’ ideas, i.e. notions that challenge religious fundamentalism. On the other hand, any democratic choice is condemned to be aligned with religious integralism. Thus, depending on one’s preferences, or fears, the battle can be described as both one between progressive ideas and religious integralism, and one between military dictatorship and democracy. The choice may end up as one between the Scylla of dictatorship and the Charybdis of integralism.

Such a choice exists now, but it will not last very long. Religious integralism often comes to power through a democratically valid electoral process. Yet once the seat of power has been reached, integralist movements may erase all institutions that are incompatible with their values. At the end of the day, we are left with regimes that started out democratically, through the will of the people and helped by Western journalism, but morphed into authoritarian orders. Look at Iran and Turkey. The real choice at that later stage is no longer one between dictatorship and integralism. Instead, it is one between two sorts of dictatorships: Religious dictatorships on the one hand, and military dictatorships with slight progressive inclinations, on the other.

Fearmongers or Sleepwalkers?

The French politician and former head of the Communist Party Marie-George Buffet stressed in a recent interview the diversity of those who are taking part in the Egyptian insurrection. She predicted that it might lead to one of the first free regimes in the Arab world. Impressive leaders, such as Nobel laureate Mohamed ElBaradei are waiting in the wings. Buffet emphasized that one must be confident in Egypt’s democratic potential. One should not fall prey to the ‘politics of fear’.

Indeed, the “politics of fear” feel quite ugly. In addition, there is no certainty that the gloomy scenario sketched above will happen. Yet there is no certainty that it will not. The situation is open. While the politics of fear should be avoided, we should also steer clear of what I call the ‘politics of sleepwalking.’ Sleepwalkers are usually intrepid, fearless. They believe themselves invulnerable and there is a good reason for it: They sleep deeply.

Perhaps we are about to witness an extraordinary event: the advent of true democracy both in the Mashriq and the Maghreb. However, we should also ask ourselves the questions of ‘what will happen if democracy will be used as a disposable instrument?’ and ‘can we assume that the democratic nature of a transition will automatically transfer itself to the ensuing regime?’ Now that Ben Ali and Murabak are gone, what is next?