Mohammed Bouazizi, suicide by immolation in Sidi Bouzid Tunisia
It's the nature of politics, domestic and international, that in an interconnected world, what occurs in one area will sooner or later, directly or indirectly, affect other areas.
Having knowledge of what's happening and an understanding of how and why it is happening helps one forecast a future trend and avoid the unpleasant and the negative that lies ahead.
But many disregard the compelling desire of men and women to seek freedom, forget that there can be no lasting peace without the establishment of broad-based human rights. The 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights contained the warning -- that without the rule of law to protect human rights, man has no alternative but to rebel against oppression.
Since the declaration, many rebellions have occurred, many autocracies have fallen and some forms of democracy have emerged.
Quest for dignity
Columnist David Brooks wrote in the Jan. 31 New York Times about a "great mental tide" that has swept across the world: People who had accepted "certain fixed places in the social order," began to think they must no longer be ignored, and they march "for responsive government and democracy" -- themes echoed by protesters in Cairo today.
Brooks presented some lessons learned: Those who tolerate autocrats for the sake of stability are ill informed; autocracies are more fragile than any other form of government; those who say speeches by outsiders have no influence on places like Egypt have it backward, as it's the climate of opinion that is the basis of the revolt; most countries that have experienced uprisings end up better off; though public hunger for dignity is unabated, the road from autocracy to democracy is rocky and perilous; outside powers must help democrats build governments that work.
He wrote: "Over the past decades, there has been a tide in the affairs of men and women. People in many places have risked their lives for recognition and respect. Governments may lag, and complications will arise, but still they will march. And, in the long run, we should be glad they do."
Revolution
It's hard to believe that an underprivileged 26-year-old Tunisian street vendor, who had pushed his wheelbarrow to sell produce since he was 10 in an unknown, poor agrarian area, sent an autocratic ruler of 23 years fleeing the country, and unleashed a tsunami of revolutionary fervor that keeps dictators near and far guessing.
He was Mohamed Bouazizi of Tunisia's hardscrabble town of Sidi Bouzid, about 200 miles south of the capital of Tunis. Bouazizi quit high school to work full-time to help his mother, uncle and six siblings.
On Dec. 17, 2010, something happened: Faida Hamdy, 45, an inspector, questioned Bouazizi over a permit. She confiscated his fruit, which Bouazizi wrestled to get back from Hamdy. She allegedly slapped him in the face in public, while two of her colleagues beat him and took away his electronic scale.
Embarrassed and angry, Bouazizi went to the municipal building to retrieve his wares. There, he was beaten again.
He then walked into the governor's office and asked to see the governor to lodge his complaint. He reportedly said he would set himself afire if refused. An audience was refused.
Bouazizi obtained some bottles of paint thinner, doused and lit himself on fire on the street in front of the governor's gated office. His self-immolation triggered small local riots that spread like wildfire to Tunisia's cities, including the capital.
Tunisians protested massively against the government for corruption, poor living conditions, high unemployment, repression.
Ten days later, President Ben Ali, ruler since 1987, fled Tunis for Saudi Arabia.
The Tunisian revolt emboldened young people in other countries, such as in Egypt today, to proclaim, "Yes, we can, too!"
Deeper problems
On the surface, Hamdy had done little more than humiliate a man, something that she may have done at other times. The subsequent "investigation" found she hadn't slapped the vendor. Her brother, Fawzy Hamdy, said he was thrilled to be among the first to join the protests in Sidi Bouzid, but also said he didn't believe his sister had slapped Bouazizi. "It's the lie that toppled a dictator," he said.
Sidi Bouzid is a poor town, ignored for years by Tunis. Tunisia's official unemployment rate is 14 percent, but Sidi Bouzid's is higher than 30 percent, with rampant corruption, nepotism and cronyism. Sidi Bouzid, like neighboring towns, is home to young, idle, jobless, underemployed and poor Tunisians, who roam the cafes, smoke and play the card game, "rami." Some intoxicate themselves with moonshine.
President Ben Ali rarely visited Sidi Bouzid. When he did, local officials busily paved roads, planted full-grown trees, painted the youth center and added skateboard ramps and ping pong tables reserved for "people with connections."
In the Jan. 30 Washington Post, Sudarsan Raghavan described Tunisia as the "personal treasure chest" of Ben Ali and wife, Leila Trabelsi, and their families. For example, Trabelsi was selling a Tunisian island and shutting down a highly regarded private school to promote her own. Ben Ali's son-in-law owned many luxury car dealerships and lucrative businesses. The Ben Ali and Trabelsi families controlled companies and real estate holdings, "sometimes taken by force."
As one reflects on that 1948 warning in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, it seems entirely clear why Tunisia was ripe for revolt. It is remarkable only that it took so long.
