Zohra Bensemra/Reuters
A demonstrator tried to force his way past riot policemen in Tunis on Monday. More Photos »
By DAVID D. KIRKPATRICK
Published: January 17, 2011
TUNIS — Passions unleashed by the revolution in Tunisia resonated throughout the region on Monday as an Egyptian and a Mauritanian became the latest of six North Africans to set themselves on fire in an imitation of the self-immolation that set off the uprising here a month ago.
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Times Topics: Zine El-Abidine Ben Ali | Tunisia
In Egypt, Abdo Abdel Moneim, a 50-year-old restaurant owner, poured a gallon of gasoline over his head and set himself ablaze outside the Parliament building on Monday morning in downtown Cairo. Around the same time in Mauritania, Yacoub Ould Dahoud was setting fire to himself in his parked car near Parliament in Nouakchott.
And on Sunday, Senouci Touat of Mostaganem, Algeria, 34 and unemployed, set himself on fire in his hometown, the fourth attempted self-immolation in his country since the Tunisian street revolt exploded in furious demonstrations in recent days. And while there were no immediate signs that their actions inspired widespread protests, as the victims all apparently intended, the immolations stood as gruesome testimony to the power of the Tunisian example.
In Tunis, the fight was far from over. More than a thousand protesters swarmed once again onto the city’s main artery, Bourguiba Boulevard, in what they described as an effort to sustain their revolution, this time in a battle pitting the small group of recognized opposition leaders against the masses in the streets.
Taking aim for the first time at the newly formed unity government, the protesters raged against the domination of the new cabinet by members of ousted President Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali’s ruling party. “Citizens and martyrs, the government is still the same,” they chanted. “We will protest, we will protest, until the government collapses!”
They called for the complete eradication of the old ruling party, while complaining that outlawed parties like the once powerful Islamist groups or the Tunisian Communists — battle-scarred stalwarts of the long dissident fight against Mr. Ben Ali’s 23-year-rule — were still barred from participating.
“Nothing has changed,” said Mohamed Cherni, 47, a teacher who said he had been tortured by Mr. Ben Ali’s police force. “It is still the same regime as before, and so we are going to keep fighting.”
But it was not clear exactly who spoke for the street protesters, and the old guard of the opposition struggled to convince the people in the streets that the country was moving toward democracy while still maintaining basic order and governance. It was not going to be an easy task in a new government in which the prime minister, Mohamed Ghannouchi, and the newly named ministers of interior, foreign affairs, defense and finance were all members of the ruling party.
Around folding tables in a run-down office a few flights up from the throngs in the streets, Ahmed Najib Chebbi, leader of the largest and most credible legal opposition party, the Progressive Democratic Party, tried to his sell his members on the unity government. Like other opposition leaders, Mr. Chebbi had received a relatively minor post, secretary of regional economic development.
As he urged patience, an angry party veteran wearing a suit and tie shouted Mr. Chebbi down. “The people, who bled and died for us and our children, need to decide!” the man said, accusing Mr. Chebbi of settling too cheaply for a partnership with a prime minister whom he accused of complicity in murder under Mr. Ben Ali. “How can the murderer be our leader today?” Several around the room cried, while Mr. Chebbi sat solemnly resting his chin in his hand.
Opposition leaders included in the new government said the revolution had collided with reality. After 23 years of Mr. Ben Ali’s one-party dictatorship, it was impossible to find qualified officials outside the party who could take the reins of government quickly enough to stabilize the country and hold free elections.
“We have the choice of three possibilities,” said Ahmed Bouazzi, a member of the executive committee of the Progressive Democratic Party. “The first choice is the complete chaos of Somalia, the second choice is a military coup after a savior comes to rescue us from the chaos and lasts for 23 years, and the third possibility is working with the people who are in charge of the state right now to prepare fair elections.”
He argued that the members of the ruling party remaining in the cabinet were relatively less culpable for the repression and corruption that provoked the uprising against Mr. Ben Ali. “We asked that the figures who had on their hands the blood of the Tunisian people or their pockets full of the money of the Tunisian people should be left out,” he said, “and we achieved this.”
The government, meanwhile, scrambled for credibility. Mr. Ghannouchi, the prime minister, declared the end of Tunisia’s suffocating propaganda and censorship machine. He pledged to release all political prisoners and to recognize the banned Communist and Islamic parties, as well as hold free, internationally monitored elections within six months.
In an extraordinary televised plea for calm — in the Ben Ali government, officials never explained themselves — the interior minister offered a public accounting of the death toll so far in the month of protests, including 78 demonstrators dead and nearly 100 wounded along with unspecified additional police casualties. He said the unrest had cost the Tunisian economy more than $2 billion.
“We will thank the people who fought for freedom and helped the country during the crisis, but we will also punish all the criminals who have terrorized us,” said the interior minister, Ahmed Friaa. “Yes to democracy, yes to freedom and no to chaos.”
In the streets, the Tunisian revolution continued to evolve. It began in the hard-pressed provinces with demands for more jobs, especially for Tunisia’s soaring number of young college graduates, nearly a third of whom are estimated to be unemployed or seriously underemployed. It spread to the workers, small business owners and the coastal professional class as a revolt mainly against the flagrant corruption associated with Mr. Ben Ali’s family.
But on Monday, the protesters in the streets appeared more working class, including some hardened, veteran dissenters abused by Mr. Ben Ali’s government. Off the streets, some Tunisian professionals who last week had railed against Mr. Ben Ali’s government said they were excited by the new government’s prudent first steps. But the demonstrators sang the national anthem and talked broadly of new “freedom” and the complete elimination of Mr. Ben Ali’s party.
As exiled leaders of the once-thriving Islamic political party here raced home, Tunisians debated what to do with the Islamist parties. At a makeshift barricade of overturned barrels and corrugated steel erected by a citizens watch group seeking to defend against looters in the neighborhood of Kram, opinions were divided. An older man brought up the subject. “We ask for the Islamists not to be excluded,” he said, giving only his first name, Habib.
An informal poll of more than a dozen young men gathered there produced uniform agreement, yet few here dare criticize the Islamists openly. A few moments later one of them, Khereddine Boulabyare, said quietly: “The one good thing Ben Ali did was to crush the Islamists.”
Everyone in the crowd said their neighborhood had been terrorized the night before by rooftop snipers, a problem in several neighborhoods. Many believed the gunmen to be former personal guards loyal to Mr. Ben Ali.
But Hissin Mraihi, a 38-year-old man armed with only a golf club, said he was undaunted as he prepared to stand watch Sunday night. “We are going to get freedom and we are going to get democracy,” he said. “And we are going to continue to fight for it and to express ourselves.”
And on Sunday, Senouci Touat of Mostaganem, Algeria, 34 and unemployed, set himself on fire in his hometown, the fourth attempted self-immolation in his country since the Tunisian street revolt exploded in furious demonstrations in recent days. And while there were no immediate signs that their actions inspired widespread protests, as the victims all apparently intended, the immolations stood as gruesome testimony to the power of the Tunisian example.
In Tunis, the fight was far from over. More than a thousand protesters swarmed once again onto the city’s main artery, Bourguiba Boulevard, in what they described as an effort to sustain their revolution, this time in a battle pitting the small group of recognized opposition leaders against the masses in the streets.
Taking aim for the first time at the newly formed unity government, the protesters raged against the domination of the new cabinet by members of ousted President Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali’s ruling party. “Citizens and martyrs, the government is still the same,” they chanted. “We will protest, we will protest, until the government collapses!”
They called for the complete eradication of the old ruling party, while complaining that outlawed parties like the once powerful Islamist groups or the Tunisian Communists — battle-scarred stalwarts of the long dissident fight against Mr. Ben Ali’s 23-year-rule — were still barred from participating.
“Nothing has changed,” said Mohamed Cherni, 47, a teacher who said he had been tortured by Mr. Ben Ali’s police force. “It is still the same regime as before, and so we are going to keep fighting.”
But it was not clear exactly who spoke for the street protesters, and the old guard of the opposition struggled to convince the people in the streets that the country was moving toward democracy while still maintaining basic order and governance. It was not going to be an easy task in a new government in which the prime minister, Mohamed Ghannouchi, and the newly named ministers of interior, foreign affairs, defense and finance were all members of the ruling party.
Around folding tables in a run-down office a few flights up from the throngs in the streets, Ahmed Najib Chebbi, leader of the largest and most credible legal opposition party, the Progressive Democratic Party, tried to his sell his members on the unity government. Like other opposition leaders, Mr. Chebbi had received a relatively minor post, secretary of regional economic development.
As he urged patience, an angry party veteran wearing a suit and tie shouted Mr. Chebbi down. “The people, who bled and died for us and our children, need to decide!” the man said, accusing Mr. Chebbi of settling too cheaply for a partnership with a prime minister whom he accused of complicity in murder under Mr. Ben Ali. “How can the murderer be our leader today?” Several around the room cried, while Mr. Chebbi sat solemnly resting his chin in his hand.
Opposition leaders included in the new government said the revolution had collided with reality. After 23 years of Mr. Ben Ali’s one-party dictatorship, it was impossible to find qualified officials outside the party who could take the reins of government quickly enough to stabilize the country and hold free elections.
“We have the choice of three possibilities,” said Ahmed Bouazzi, a member of the executive committee of the Progressive Democratic Party. “The first choice is the complete chaos of Somalia, the second choice is a military coup after a savior comes to rescue us from the chaos and lasts for 23 years, and the third possibility is working with the people who are in charge of the state right now to prepare fair elections.”
He argued that the members of the ruling party remaining in the cabinet were relatively less culpable for the repression and corruption that provoked the uprising against Mr. Ben Ali. “We asked that the figures who had on their hands the blood of the Tunisian people or their pockets full of the money of the Tunisian people should be left out,” he said, “and we achieved this.”
The government, meanwhile, scrambled for credibility. Mr. Ghannouchi, the prime minister, declared the end of Tunisia’s suffocating propaganda and censorship machine. He pledged to release all political prisoners and to recognize the banned Communist and Islamic parties, as well as hold free, internationally monitored elections within six months.
In an extraordinary televised plea for calm — in the Ben Ali government, officials never explained themselves — the interior minister offered a public accounting of the death toll so far in the month of protests, including 78 demonstrators dead and nearly 100 wounded along with unspecified additional police casualties. He said the unrest had cost the Tunisian economy more than $2 billion.
“We will thank the people who fought for freedom and helped the country during the crisis, but we will also punish all the criminals who have terrorized us,” said the interior minister, Ahmed Friaa. “Yes to democracy, yes to freedom and no to chaos.”
In the streets, the Tunisian revolution continued to evolve. It began in the hard-pressed provinces with demands for more jobs, especially for Tunisia’s soaring number of young college graduates, nearly a third of whom are estimated to be unemployed or seriously underemployed. It spread to the workers, small business owners and the coastal professional class as a revolt mainly against the flagrant corruption associated with Mr. Ben Ali’s family.
But on Monday, the protesters in the streets appeared more working class, including some hardened, veteran dissenters abused by Mr. Ben Ali’s government. Off the streets, some Tunisian professionals who last week had railed against Mr. Ben Ali’s government said they were excited by the new government’s prudent first steps. But the demonstrators sang the national anthem and talked broadly of new “freedom” and the complete elimination of Mr. Ben Ali’s party.
As exiled leaders of the once-thriving Islamic political party here raced home, Tunisians debated what to do with the Islamist parties. At a makeshift barricade of overturned barrels and corrugated steel erected by a citizens watch group seeking to defend against looters in the neighborhood of Kram, opinions were divided. An older man brought up the subject. “We ask for the Islamists not to be excluded,” he said, giving only his first name, Habib.
An informal poll of more than a dozen young men gathered there produced uniform agreement, yet few here dare criticize the Islamists openly. A few moments later one of them, Khereddine Boulabyare, said quietly: “The one good thing Ben Ali did was to crush the Islamists.”
Everyone in the crowd said their neighborhood had been terrorized the night before by rooftop snipers, a problem in several neighborhoods. Many believed the gunmen to be former personal guards loyal to Mr. Ben Ali.
But Hissin Mraihi, a 38-year-old man armed with only a golf club, said he was undaunted as he prepared to stand watch Sunday night. “We are going to get freedom and we are going to get democracy,” he said. “And we are going to continue to fight for it and to express ourselves.”
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