Tunisia

The way the story is often told is that Western countries gifted human rights to the world and are the sole guardians of it. It may come as a surprise for some, then, that the international legal framework for prohibiting racial discrimination largely owes its existence to the efforts of states from the Global South.

In 1963, in the midst of the decolonisation wave, a group of nine newly independent African states presented a resolution to the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) calling for the drafting of an international treaty on the elimination of racial discrimination. As the representative from Senegal observed: “Racial discrimination was still the rule in African colonial territories and in South Africa, and was not unknown in other parts of the world … The time had come to bring all States into that struggle.”

The groundbreaking International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (ICERD) was unanimously adopted by the UNGA two years later. The convention rejected any doctrine of superiority based on racial differentiation as “scientifically false, morally condemnable and socially unjust”.

Today, as we mark 60 years since its adoption, millions of people around the world continue to face racial discrimination – whether in policing, migration policies or exploitative labour conditions.

In Brazil, Amnesty International documented how a deadly police operation in Rio de Janeiro’s favelas this October resulted in the massacre by security forces of more than 100 people, most of them Afro-Brazilians and living in poverty.

In Tunisia, we have seen how authorities have for the past three years used migration policies to carry out racially targeted arrests and detentions and mass expulsions of Black refugees and asylum seekers.

Meanwhile, in Saudi Arabia, Kenyan female domestic workers face racism and exploitation from their employers, enduring gruelling and abusive working conditions.

In the United States, diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) initiatives aimed at tackling systemic racism have been eliminated across federal agencies. Raids by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) targeting migrants and refugees are a horrifying feature of President Donald Trump’s mass deportation and detention agenda, rooted in white supremacist narratives.

Migrants held in detention centres have been subjected to torture and a pattern of deliberate neglect designed to dehumanise and punish.

Elsewhere, Amnesty International has documented how new digital technologies are automating and entrenching racism, while social media offers inadequately moderated forums for racist and xenophobic content. For example, our investigation into the United Kingdom’s Southport racist riots found that X’s design and policy choices created fertile ground for the inflammatory, racist narratives that resulted in the violent targeting of Muslims and migrants.

Even human rights defenders from the Global South face racial discrimination when they have to apply for visas to Global North countries in order to attend meetings where key decisions are made on human rights.

All these instances of systemic racism have their roots in the legacies of European colonial domination and the racist ideologies on which they were built. This era, which spanned nearly four centuries and extended across six continents, saw atrocities that had historical consequences – from the erasure of Indigenous populations to the transatlantic slave trade.

The revival of anti-right movements globally has led to a resurgence of racist and xenophobic rhetoric, a scapegoating of migrants and refugees, and a retrenchment in anti-discrimination measures and protections.

At the same time, Western states have been all too willing to dismantle international law and institutions to legitimise Israel’s genocide against Palestinians in Gaza and shield Israeli authorities from justice and accountability.

Just as the creation of the ICERD was driven by African states 60 years ago, Global South countries continue to be at the forefront of the fight against racial oppression, injustice and inequality. South Africa notably brought the case against Israel at the International Court of Justice and cofounded The Hague Group – a coalition of eight Global South states organising to hold Israel accountable for genocide.

On the reparations front, it is Caribbean and African states, alongside Indigenous peoples, Africans and people of African descent, that are leading the pursuit of justice. The Caribbean Community (CARICOM) has been intensifying pressure on European governments to reckon with their colonial past, including during a recent visit to the United Kingdom by the CARICOM Reparations Commission.

As the African Union announced 2026-36 the Decade of Reparations last month, African leaders gathered in Algiers for the International Conference on the Crimes of Colonialism, at which they consolidated demands for the codification of colonialism as a crime under international law.

But this is not enough. States still need to confront racism as a structural and systemic issue, and stop pretending slavery and colonialism are a thing of the past with no impact on our present.

Across the world, people are resisting. In Brazil, last month, hundreds of thousands of Afro-Brazilian women led the March of Black Women for Reparations and Wellbeing against racist and gendered historic violence. In the US, people fought back against the wave of federal immigration raids this year, with thousands taking to the streets in Los Angeles to protest and residents of Chicago mobilising to protect migrant communities and businesses against ICE raids.

Governments need to listen to their people and fulfil their obligations under ICERD and national law to protect the marginalised and oppressed against discrimination.

The views expressed in this article are the authors’ own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.

The Arab Spring began in Tunisia 15 years ago, after Mohamed Bouazizi set fire to himself triggering unrest which toppled the dictator and sparked hopes for freedom. Relatives of political prisoners say President Kais Saied has pushed the country back into authoritarianism.

Fifteen years ago, a Tunisian fruit seller, Mohamed Bouazizi, despairing at official corruption and police violence, walked to the centre of his hometown of Sidi Bouzid, set himself on fire, and changed the region forever.

Much of the hope triggered by that act lies in ruins. The revolutions that followed in Tunisia, Libya, Egypt and Syria have cost the lives of tens and thousands before, in some cases, giving way to chaos or the return of authoritarianism.

Only Tunisia appeared to fulfil the promise of the “Arab Spring”, with voices from around the world championing its democratic success, ignoring economic and political failings through much of its post-revolutionary history that stirred discontent.

Today, many of Tunisia’s post-revolutionary gains have been cast aside in the wake of President Kais Saied’s dramatic power grab in July 2021. Labelled a coup by his opponents, it ushered in a new hardline rule in Tunisia.

Burying the hopes of the revolution

Over the following years, as well as temporarily shuttering parliament – only reopening it in March 2023 – Saied has rewritten the constitution and overseen a relentless crackdown on critics and opponents.

“They essentially came for everyone; judges, civil society members, people from all political backgrounds, especially the ones that were talking about unifying an opposition against the coup regime,” Kaouther Ferjani, whose father, 71-year-old Ennahdha leader Said Ferjani, was arrested in February 2023.

In September, Saied said his measures were a continuation of the revolution triggered by Bouzazzi’s self-immolation. Painting himself a man of the people, he railed against nameless “lobbyists and their supporters” who thwart the people’s ambitions.

However, while many Tunisians have been cowed into silence by Saied’s crackdown, they have also refused to take part in elections, now little more than a procession for the president.

In 2014, during the country’s first post-revolution presidential election, about 61 percent of the country’s voters turned out to vote.

By last year’s election, turnout had halved.

“Kais Saied’s authoritarian rule has definitively buried the hopes and aspirations of the 2011 revolution by systematically crushing fundamental rights and freedoms and putting democratic institutions under his thumb,” Bassam Khawaja, deputy director at Human Rights Watch, told Al Jazeera English.

In the wake of the revolution, many across Tunisia became activists, seeking to involve themselves in forging what felt like a new national identity.

The number of civil society organisations exploded, with thousands forming to lobby against corruption or promote human rights, transitional justice, press freedom and women’s rights.

At the same time, political shows competed for space, debating the direction the country’s new identity would take.

“It was an amazing time,” a political analyst who witnessed the revolution and remains in Tunisia said, asking to remain anonymous. “Anybody with anything to say was saying it.

“Almost overnight, we had hundreds of political parties and thousands of civil society organisations. Many of the political parties shifted or merged… but Tunisia retained an active civil society, as well as retaining freedom of speech all the way up to 2022.”

Threatened by Saied’s Decree 54 of 2022, which criminalised any electronic communication deemed by the government as false, criticism of the ruling elite within the media and even on social networks has largely been muzzled.

“Freedom of speech was one of the few lasting benefits of the revolution,” the analyst continued.

“The economy failed to pick up, services didn’t really improve, but we had debate and freedom of speech. Now, with Decree 54, as well as commentators just being arrested for whatever reason, it’s gone.”

In 2025, both Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch slammed Tunisia’s crackdown on activists and nongovernmental organisations (NGOs).

In a statement before the prosecution of six NGO workers and human rights defenders working for the Tunisian Council for Refugees in late November, Amnesty pointed to the 14 Tunisian and international NGOs that had their activities suspended by court order over the previous four months.

Included were the Tunisian Association of Democratic Women, the Tunisian Forum for Social and Economic Rights, the media platform Nawaat and the Tunis branch of the World Organisation against Torture.

‘Plotting against state security’

Dozens of political figures from post-revolution governments have also been arrested, with little concern for party affiliation or ideology.

In April 2023, 84-year-old Rached Ghannouchi, leader of what had been Tunisia’s main political bloc, the Ennahdha Party, was arrested on charges of “plotting against state security”.

According to his daughter, Yusra, after a series of subsequent convictions, Ghannouchi currently faces a further 42 years in jail.

Later the same year, Ghannouchi’s principal critic, Abir Moussi, the leader of the Free Destourian Party, was jailed on a variety of charges.

Critics dismiss the charges, saying the criteria for arrest have been the person’s potential to rally opinion against Saied.

“This is not just the case for my father,” Yusra continued, referring to others, such as the leading post-coup opposition figure Jawhar Ben Mubarak.

“Other politicians, judges, journalists, and ordinary citizens … have been sentenced to very heavy sentences, without any evidence, without any respect for legal procedures, simply because Tunisia has now sadly been taken back to the very same dictatorship against which Tunisians had risen in 2010.”

Ghannouchi and Moussi, along with dozens of former elected lawmakers, remain in jail. The political parties that once vied for power in the country’s parliament are largely absent.

In their place, since Saied’s revised 2022 constitution weakened parliament, is a body that is no longer a threat to the president.

“The old parliament was incredibly fractious, and did itself few favours,” said Hatem Nafti, essayist and author of Our Friend Kais Saied, a book criticising Tunisia’s new regime. He was referring to the ammunition provided to its detractors by a chaotic and occasionally violent parliament.

“However, it was democratically elected and blocked legislation that its members felt would harm Tunisia.

“In the new parliament, members feel the need to talk tough and even be rude to ministers,” Nafti continued. “But it’s really just a performance… Nearly all the members are there because they agree with Kais Saied.”

Hopes that the justice system might act as a check on Saied have faltered. The president has continued to remodel the judiciary to a design of his own making, including by sacking 57 judges for not delivering verdicts he wanted in 2022.

By the 2024 elections, that effort appeared complete, with the judicial opposition to his rule that remained, in the shape of the administrative court, rendered subservient to his personally appointed electoral authority, and the most serious rivals for the presidency jailed.

“The judiciary is now almost entirely under the government’s control,“ Nafti continued. “Even under [deposed President Zine El Abidine] Ben Ali you had the CSM [Supreme Judicial Council], which oversaw judges’ appointments, promotions, and disciplinary matters.

“Now that only exists on paper, with the minister of justice able to determine precisely what judges go where and what judgements they’ll deliver.”

Citing what he said is the “shameful silence of the international community that once supported the country’s democratic transition”, Khawaja said: ”Saied has returned Tunisia to authoritarian rule.”