The Tunisian revolution is less than two weeks old, and the country, despite the hasty creation of a transition government, is still plunged in a sort of euphoric chaos. Two weeks after the dictatorship toppled down, the artistic world is emerging as the voice of Tunisian citizens, less in an attempt to salvage the revolution than in an effort to reposition itself and give direction and vision to the blossoming democracy.
Today, artists are eagerly seizing on the freedom of expression of which they were denied for 23 years. Although no political party, intellectual group or artists collective can claim to have played the deciding role in the revolution–which has to be clearly attributed to the educated, exasperated, bullied and strangled youth in Tunisia’s most neglected regions–artists have been supportive of the citizens and their revolt.
Hend Sabry, the famous Tunisian actress who has become one of the pillars of the Egyptian 7th Art, explained to Al-Masry Al-Youm that “flashmobs and cyber activism have played a major role in organizing and maintaining the protests since Mohamed Bouazizi set himself on fire, but artists also played a role.” Al-General, a young Tunisian rapper from Sfax, a city located in one of Tunisia’s most neglected regions, voiced the frustration of Tunisian youth in his song “Raiss le bled” where he addresses Ben Ali directly. “President your people is dead : Get down into the streets and watch, people are treated like animals, half of the people live in humiliation and have tasted misery,” he raps in the song that was released in December 2010, circulated on the internet, and managed to communicate his revolutionary ideal without censorship.
“I have always been a political rapper,” explains El General, who has started rapping in 2008. “Since 2008 I have been constantly intimidated, my phone was tapped, my life scrutinized… and on the 6 January a militia from the Interior Ministry came to my house to arrest me.” El General, whose real name is Hamada Ben Amor, was interrogated for three days before being finally released on the 9th of January, without having been brutalized.
On the 11 January, three days before Ben Ali fled the country, artists organized a demonstration in front of the Municipal Theater of Tunis. Ibrahim Le Taier, a Tunisian director, was part of this protest: “We decided to wait in little groups in various coffee shops before all taking the direction of the theater at noon,” he explains. “The plan was to lie on the court’s steps, sing, do creative things, but the event hasn’t turned out as we expected: a group of artists in one of the coffee shops got attacked by militia men, insulted and dispersed violently.”
Three days later, they were back on the streets chanting, painting, and improvising plays to celebrate the Jasmine Revolution and their democratic aspirations. According to Le Taier, the revolution is also cultural because the people of Tunis have demanded their right to culture. “There is a major problem with the centralization of cultural space in Tunisia; it is concentrated in Tunis at the expense of outlying areas.”
The “collective of free artists” was born in the days that followed the government’s fall, and Le Taier is part of it. “We have been meeting extensively in the ‘Teatro’ gallery in Tunis since the 17 January to adopt a political positioning vis-à-vis the fall of the dictatorship,” he explains with pride. The collective consists of actors, musicians, directors, writers, choreographers, representatives of cultural associations and art syndicates that have gathered extensively for the past ten days. “The aim was to come up with a declaration that would encompass all our demands and the demands of the citizens,” Le Taier explains. In the declaration that was released on 21 January, the collective is committed to become the voice of the Tunisian people, to protect the values of modernity and democracy, to urge the formation of a provisional government representative of all political parties and civil society, and to nominate independent personalities to head these ministries. “Our manifesto also demands the separation of the political parties from the institutions of the state itself in order to guarantee the neutrality of the administration,” explains Le Taier.
But all is not rosy in the cultural sphere right now. Many challenges face Tunisian artists today: they need to organize a brand new cultural sphere in a democratic context, to get rid of the specter of self-censorship which did as much damage a state censorship, and to avoid a major division by forgiving the artists who were close to the deposed dictator.
A witch-hunt is underway to denounce the artists considered too close to the fallen regime. Hend Sabry is one of the movement’s many victims since her name appeared on a list–published a few months ago–of 65 Tunisian artists in favor of Ben Ali’s participation in the 2014 presidential elections. To defend herself, she wrote an open letter entitled “Please, do not shoot!” in which she explains the conditions in which her approval was extorted from her. “One of Leila Trabelsi’s brothers called me over the phone to tell me that he had added my name to this list, she explains. My legs were trembling during the whole conversation, and when I explained that I was an artist and not politicized in any way, he answered sharply, “You are either with us or against us.” To her, it was very clear at that point what the consequences of her refusal may lead to. “I don’t think any of the artists whose name appeared on the list refused, we all had family members that could have been in danger…” she said.
Famous director Moufida Tlatli, recently appointed as Minister of Culture of the National Union Government, received the same threatening call. “I was too scared to refuse,” explains Tlaltli. “Some artists and intellectuals have asked me not to participate in this government for two main reasons: first, because of my ‘support’ of Ben Ali’s reelection, and second, because they respect me professionally as a director, but they know that I have no political experience and no knowledge of the files and of the way a ministry is managed.” Tlatli argues that by accepting the nomination she hopes to receive, with her integrity and honesty, she can play a modest role in the country’s reconstruction.
Most of these artists agree that a witch-hunt was inevitable, but all of them express their hope that dissention will give way to forgiveness eventually. This is what Le Taier hopes: “I think we need to pardon everyone today, except members of the old regime: they have to be tried.”
