The
success story of the Arab Spring has made room for moderate secularists to
flourish. But that’s a double-edged sword.
BY CHRISTIAN CARYL*
People gather
around flowers placed on the Promenade des Anglais on July 15 in Nice, France,
after a terrorist attack the previous day.
We still don’t have all the details,
but it would appear that the man behind the horrific terrorist attack in Nice,
France, was Mohamed Lahouaiej Bouhlel, a 31-year-old deliveryman and petty
criminal. Bouhlel, who was killed by police at the scene, was a French citizen.
But the detail that many terrorism experts immediately zeroed in on was his
country of origin: Tunisia. That’s right: The country that is often hailed as
“the success story of the Arab Spring” because it has actually managed to stick
with democracy since the downfall of its dictator in 2011.
That Bouhel is Tunisian once again raises the question:
Why is liberal Tunisia, of all places, producing so
many terrorists?
The experts have long since determined that Tunisia is a disproportionate source of
recruits for radical Islamist causes. Despite the country’s relatively small
population of 11 million, Tunisians are conspicuously over-represented among the fighters of the Islamic State in
Syria and Iraq. According to recent estimates, 7,000 Tunisians have joined the cause — more
than any other country, including much larger ones such as Saudi Arabia and
Egypt. There are also, according to numerous reports, thousands of Tunisians
training and fighting for jihad in Libya, Tunisia’s next-door neighbor, which
has a strong Islamic State presence. (Indeed, the Tunisian authorities have boasted that they’ve prevented some 12,000 other
potential jihadists from leaving the country for Syria since 2013 — a statistic
hardly as comforting as they apparently would like it to be.)
But
Tunisian jihadists haven’t only been active
overseas.Over the past few years they’ve staged several high-profile attacks on their own country. Since 2013,
terrorists have assassinated secular politicians, targeted popular tourist sites (virtually shutting down an
industry on which much of the economy depends), and engaged in myriad clashes with the police. In March, Libyan-based
jihadists, presumably of Tunisian origin, staged a full-scale assault on the Tunisian border town of Ben
Guerdane. Though local security forces coped pretty effectively with the
attack, ultimately winning the battle, it was a worrying sign of the jihadists’
ambitions and aggressiveness.
All of this, needless to say, stands in rather
stark contrast to Tunisia’s remarkable progress at establishing democratic
institutions. The country has held several rounds of free and fair elections,
and it now boasts a vibrant range of free media and civil society groups. When
I visited a few weeks ago, I heard plenty of theories that attempted to explain why these new freedoms
have coincided with so much extremist violence.
Some Tunisians told me that the collapse of the
dictatorship in the 2011 revolution and the establishment of democratic
institutions that followed had given jihadists new freedom to organize, travel,
and share information.
Religious radicals, it was pointed out, can now
openly watch satellite broadcasts of hard-line clerics streamed in from the
Gulf. Others I spoke with, including some government officials, worry that the
security apparatus was fatally weakened by post-revolutionary reforms — though
that argument seems somewhat diluted by the government’s competent response to
the Ben Guerdane attacks in the spring. Still others mentioned the failure of
democratically elected leaders to address the country’s persistent economic
malaise. Though the official unemployment rate is around 15 percent, it’s
estimated to be double that for young people, who see correspondingly few
opportunities for bettering their lives.
One thing that struck me the most about Tunisia,
however, is just how secular and Western the country looks and feels — in ways
that long predate the 2011 revolution. The country’s first post-independence
leader, President Habib
Bourguiba, who took power in 1956, was a staunch admirer of Turkey’s
legendary Mustafa Kemal Ataturk. Like Ataturk, he was a radical secularist who
imposed a modernizing agenda, including women’s rights and Western-style
education, while ruthlessly suppressing the forces of traditional religion.
He was notorious for expressing his contempt for
the veil, which he called that “odious rag.” Even today one rarely sees
men or women in traditional Islamic clothing in Tunis and many other parts of
the country — a striking contrast to neighboring Libya, where hijab-wearing
women are a common sight.
The problem, of course, is that pushing traditional
religion to the side doesn’t mean that everyone is going to agree. Aggressive
modernization almost always incites a backlash — and so it has gone in Tunisia,
where those with an inclination to traditional Islam have often ended up
feeling marginalized in their own country.
A very similar dynamic took hold in Turkey, under
Ataturk and his heirs. There, though, a gradual opening of the political
landscape in the late 20th century allowed Islamists to channel their ambitions
into electoral politics, embodied by the rise of current President Recep Tayyip
Erdogan. Bourguiba and his successor, Zine El Abidine Ben Ali, allowed for no
such expression of alternative opinions; the organizers of Tunisia’s leading Islamist
party, Ennahdha, returned from exile only after the 2011 revolution.
Other Tunisians who gravitated to Islamist politics sought more radical
outlets. Some joined al Qaeda, while others assumed prominent roles in the war
in Iraq.
It was one of those veterans of the Iraqi jihad, a
man named Boubaker al-Hakim, who later played a key role in organizing
the attacks on the French satirical newspaper Charlie Hebdo. Like
Bouhlel, the attacker in Nice, he was also a French citizen — a reflection of
the darker side of Tunisians’ long and intimate obsession with their former
colonizer. For elite Tunisians, France is the country of their aspirations. For
less privileged Tunisian migrants, stuck in menial jobs and relegated to the
fringes of society, France is the place that constantly reminds them of their second-class status —
symbolized by its institutionalized contempt for their “backward” religion.
In the case of such people, it’s easy to see how
recourse to radical Islam is as much a matter of identity politics as it is of
religion. Indeed, judging by the reports coming in from Bouhlel’s acquaintances
and neighbors, he appears to have been motivated as much by a generalized sense
of frustration and rage as by ideology.
In short, Tunisia’s paradox — the jarring dichotomy
between burgeoning liberalization and brewing jihad — should remind us once
again that the plague of Islamist terror isn’t reducible to simple causes. The
fact that Tunisians have been dominated by strongly secularizing regimes for
the past 60 years might well help to explain why democracy has taken root with
such surprising success since 2011. But it also seems clear that that same
modernizing trend has fueled an intense backlash among traditionalist Muslims,
often to radical effect. The fate of Tunisia, and its much-lauded democracy,
will now depend on how well the country can figure out how to bridge the gap.
· * Christian Caryl is the
editor of Democracy Lab, published by Foreign Policy in conjunction with the
London-based Legatum Institute. A former reporter at Newsweek, he's also the
author of Strange Rebels: 1979 and the Birth of the 21st Century. He is a regular contributor to the New York Review of Books and a contributing editor at
theNational Interest.
· * This article was published first by Foreign Policy on 15 July 2016