After surpassing 90 percent approval in the first round of the presidential elections on October 6, incumbent Tunisian leader Kais Saied faces his new term in a political, social, and economic climate vastly different from that of 2019. We discussed this shift with writer and essayist Hatem Nafty, whose latest work, Notre ami Kaïs Saïed. Essai sur la démocrature tunisienne (Our Friend Kais Saied: An Essay on the Tunisian Dictatorship), was presented in late September.
What has changed between 2019 and 2024? From your perspective as both an internal observer and an external one, as a Franco-Tunisian political analyst based in Paris, what are the key differences?
First and foremost, the legal system. We are now under an ultra-presidential regime. I’m not sure we can still call it a republican system: there is a president with immense powers who is ideologically opposed to checks and balances. This is clear both in the new constitution and in how it’s applied. Even under Kais Saied’s own constitution, the promised checks, such as the Constitutional Court and the Supreme Judicial Council, have not been established. The person in power does whatever they want. Judges are appointed by the government, their careers directly controlled by the executive, and some are imprisoned for not ruling in the government’s favor. The Minister of Justice is openly issuing orders to the judiciary.
And that’s regarding the political structure… but what about the impact on society?
The return of fear. I see it in the people around me. They’ve started giving the same warnings as during the era of (Zine El-Abidine) Ben Ali: “Be careful! Take care of yourself…”. There are constant reports and denunciations; people are afraid to speak, unsure of what they can post on social media without risking consequences. A single wrong comment on Facebook can lead to a ten-year prison sentence. In short, it’s a return to a regime of terror.
And what about those abroad, like yourself?
Even we are affected, because we don’t know if returning is dangerous. As far as I know, there are no charges or complaints against me; I haven’t been summoned. As far as I’m aware, at least. But they could target my family or those close to me. There are people who write to me, asking me to keep speaking out because they can no longer do so in Tunisia. Others advise me to be careful.
Kais Saied’s public discourse is entirely focused on a rhetoric of opposition: it’s anti-Western, anti-African, anti-political party, anti-system…
First, let’s establish some key points: Saied’s regime was born out of this very notion of being “against.” Everything he has proposed for years follows this line: the goal is to tear down the ancien régime and everything that came before Saied himself, because to him, the past represents darkness.
In his speeches, the West is never explicitly mentioned as the enemy, but we can infer it from his rhetoric: he prefers the more generic term “foreigner” or refers to colonial circles. After October 7, by almost ‘surfing’ on the term Zionist, he has gained a pro-Palestinian image in public opinion. But in reality, he opposed Parliament’s efforts to halt normalization with Israel.
Has it ever happened before that a Tunisian president blocked a parliamentary vote?
Never, neither under Bourguiba nor under Ben Ali.
Returning to the anti-Western rhetoric, we can’t forget Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni reception in Tunis.
Yes, this highlights the gap between public discourse and the regime’s actions. You know, the president is a very serious person; he isn’t often seen smiling. One of the few times he was captured smiling was with the Italian prime minister. Not even during his official visit to Saudi Arabia, where he went to the Mecca—what we in Tunisia refer to as “the House of God”—did he appear happy in the images; he seemed annoyed even then.
So, is Italy considered a bit less Western than France, the United States, and England?
In a sense, yes. If the agreement on managing African migrants had been mediated by France, I’m not sure things would have unfolded in the same way.
At the core of it all is the theory of a grand conspiracy against Tunisia. The migrants? They’re seen as a product of this conspiracy.
In what way?
Let me summarize this theory. Europeans want to get rid of Black people—which isn’t entirely false—and at the same time, there are Black people who want to colonize North Africa. At this point, the president has been very clever: to promote this theory of great replacement, he drew a parallel with the Palestinian situation. Just as the antisemitic Westerners wanted to rid themselves of Jews after World War II and sent them to the Middle East to replace the Palestinians, the intention is that Black Africans should replace Tunisians.
Moreover, there’s a theory called Pan-Africanism, which argues that all of Africa should be Black and that North Africans are merely descendants of Arab, Berber, and Turkish colonizers.
It’s also true that there is European pressure for asylum applications to be made outside the European Union—such as in Albania and Tunisia.
This shows that even if the theory doesn’t make sense, people only need a few truthful elements to believe it.
From narrative to harsh reality. The economic crisis is hitting hard…
Not just that. Drought has been a major issue for the past seven years, and the president claims it’s all part of a conspiracy. Suddenly, social groups with nothing in common find themselves on the same side: racists, working-class communities seeking social revenge, and the poorer regions of the country farthest from the capital. In contrast, the strongest support for his opponent, Ayachi Zammel, has come from the affluent neighborhoods of Tunis. In general, the opposition performs well in the better-off areas of Tunisia, while Saied’s support is more widespread.
You mention results, so do you consider the vote legitimate and rely on the ballot boxes?
I’ve been saying this for months. There’s no need to tamper with the ballot boxes to rig the elections. How? By preventing individuals who could overshadow the outgoing president—like an Islamist, a figure from the former regime, or a conservative—from competing. Others have been imprisoned for months, such as lawyer Abir Moussi. Furthermore, there’s the modified electoral law, political activism stripped of its economic resources, and public media constantly engaged in propaganda for the regime, while private media face ongoing threats and pressure.
All of this creates an environment that cannot be defined as…
Free?
Free and fair. Some of those who voted did so under duress; a segment of the Tunisian population relies on public subsidies distributed locally. Local administrators of all kinds were actively campaigning for the president in their communities.
That said, a total of 2.4 million people voted for Saied (out of just over 2.7 million voters, ed.). The opposition has not managed to gather a similar number of votes in any way. It’s definitely a phenomenon worth studying.
What has happened to the Islamist front?
We need to put their power into perspective; it has been greatly diminished. Almost all the leadership of the Islamists (including the Ennahdha party and other smaller satellite formations, ed.) is in prison. Moreover, while Kais Saied is not a member of the Muslim Brotherhood, he is still a conservative. He has incorporated sharia into the constitution, which means there are Islamist voters who may find common ground with him.
And what about the modernists? Are they all abroad or in prison?
Not at all. You might be surprised, but many are actually in Parliament. Nidaa Tounès, the liberal party founded by the late President Béji Caid Essebsi, no longer exists. However, representatives of the ancien régime—I prefer to call them that rather than modernists—have adapted better than others. They share a typically Tunisian mindset: the belief that the state should be strong, that it shouldn’t focus too much on democratic issues, and that it shouldn’t be questioned. It’s a “patriarchal” state.
There’s a newspaper that examined the CVs of parliament members—who no longer present themselves as party affiliates but as independents—and found that 40% can be traced back to the RCD (Rassemblement Constitutionnel Démocratique), which was in power under Ben Ali for 23 years until his ousting in 2011.
There’s a compatibility between “RCD-ism” and what we might call “Saied-ism.” The president is revitalizing that super-powerful administration; we’ve returned to a Leviathan state that does as it pleases, convinced that it is acting for the greater good.
Not everyone thinks that way, though. Abir Moussi has openly aligned herself with the opposition, despite being fiercely nostalgic for the Ben Ali era and the RCD.
That’s because people like her believed this regime would collapse quickly. That hasn’t happened, and once again, citizens have no control over the state. Meanwhile, the social and economic situation has further deteriorated over these past five years. Yet, the narrative of conspiracy and opposition continues to resonate.
What’s your take on this campaign slogan, “Now we will build”?
It’s more of an invitation: “Vote for me, and you’ll never have to hear about them again!” Doesn’t that send chills down your spine? “Them” refers to the traitors, the opponents, and the adversaries.
And now?
This regime has no alternative to its rhetoric of conspiracy. It will not change. Without it, the regime wouldn’t know how to justify its failures—especially given the powers and privileges that no president before Saied has ever had. No one.
Cover photo: A billboard depicting Tunisia’s Kais Saied hangs on the side of a building in the east-central city of Kairouan, on July 26, 2022. (Photo by Kabil BOUSENA / AFP)
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