A Day of Reflection: Who is a True Tunisian?

Hammamet, Saturday, June 27, 2015 (morning)

This morning I found myself all alone in the hotel’s restaurant. The few tourists I had seen upon arrival were all gone. There was something eerie in the air. I didn’t feel trying going to Sousse again. The pictures I saw on Tunisian TV channels the night before were rather disturbing. Abu Yahya al-Qayrawani (=the one from Kairouan, Tunisia’s holy city), as the attacker fancied calling himself, even shot a young boy from a close range. At first I wondered why he thought he needed a nom de guerre. His birth name Seifeddin (Sayf al-Din=Sword of the Faith) Rezgui was colorful enough. I suppose a new name confirms one’s new identity. Rezgui’s mother reported later that her son couldn’t even kill a mouse that had once plagued the family home. But once Rezgui morphed into al-Qayrawani, he found it in himself to murder dozens of defenseless people and to probably even draw satisfaction from it. He must have been told that yielding the sword in the name of God during Ramadan would be particularly auspicious for him. He would die a shahid and bring honor upon his family. It turned out his family did not feel honored. The only way they cope with his transgression is to assume their son was brainwashed.

After breakfast, I parked myself in the lobby, the only spot where I had WiFi. I hadn’t mentioned anything to my family until then, hoping that because of the time difference (Tunisia is 11 hours ahead of Hawai‘i), it would take at least half a day before they would hear of the attacks on the news channels. I didn’t want to deprive them of their sleep. But the first message I saw when I opened my account was my son’s e-mail. The subject line said ‘URGENT, URGENT, URGENT!!!!’ My family did hear about the events in Sousse. I rushed to skype them and assure them that I felt safe. I had to promise that I wasn’t going to leave my hotel that day. It seemed, indeed, a good idea to wait for more information to become available before planning any more traveling.

When I got off Skype, I realized that the hotel staff had been waiting politely for me to finish talking to my family. The receptionists came to show me their metal detector wands and even gave me a demonstration. I was genuinely impressed that the hotel had those detectors in store. Then, my favorite waiter showed up with a big smile to ask me if I wanted a coffee. I felt I really needed one. He returned with an aromatic qahwa on his tray and sweets from his native city Kairouan, called makroudhs (semolina pastry filled with dates). He too was trying his best to make me feel comfortable. After thanking him for his kindness, I carefully inquired what the people of Kairouan thought of the attacker. The first thing he said was ‘That irhabi was not from my city!’ So much for the astute nom de guerre. No native of Kairouan has a desire to claim al-Qayrawani as one of their own. Later, I read that Rezgui was from Gaafour, a small and neglected town southwest of Tunis. I also asked my waiter if he knew what Rezgui was studying. The media had mentioned that he was a student but not his major. Apparently, Rezgui had just earned his M.A. in electronic network management at Kairouan’s science and technology college and even picked up his certificate at the end of the summer semester, barely a month before carrying out his beach raid. It seems he lived in two worlds, one in which he was a student preparing for professional life and another where he was training to kill indiscriminately.

Just as my young waiter was leaving, he spotted the open news channels on my computer screen. He asked ‘Is anyone abroad mentioning that the staff at the Hotel in Sousse saved the lives of many tourists?’ I told him truthfully that neither BBC nor The Guardian nor CNN had reported it on line. Not even Al-Jazeera. He replied ‘See, no one is interested in us Muslims when we do a good thing.’ I could tell his sense of honor was hurt. I did my best to convey to him how proud I personally felt of the Tunisians at the hotel in Sousse and that I didn’t recall any other bloody event where so many local people put their lives on the line to shield foreign visitors. A maid even threw a chair at the assailant in Sousse. I assured my waiter that I expected the story of the Tunisian heroes to be eventually reported abroad. Foreign journalists were probably verifying the story as we were talking. The waiter gave me a sad smile and said ‘Inshallah’ (if God wills).

When I went back to my room, I found that my bed and the sink in the bathroom were sprinkled with petals. The maids had found their own way to let me know that I should stay. (To thank them and the other members of the staff at the Majesty Golf Hotel I enclosed some photographs I took while there. The first picture is from the Hotel’s website, the others are mine.) 

Men, women, politicians, cab drivers, journalists, TV anchors, show masters, waiters, conductors, teachers, accountants…. everyone I heard in the last 24 hours was so earnestly reflecting upon the recent event. What it meant, how it could happen, who was behind it, what did it say about the country’s state of security, what kind of person it took to commit such an odious crime? Some were angry at Rezgui’s parents for not reporting an earlier disappearance of their son (when he went to train in a Libyan camp during Spring break). Others accused the government of taking revenge on the people for having dared a revolution by deliberately not providing sufficient security.

A statement I heard frequently is that you cease being a Tunisian if you take orders from a foreign entity. Or, true Tunisians do not harm the territorial, economical, and moral integrity of their country. Only traitors commit such vile acts, and they do not represent their country of birth. Tunisians are obviously very self-conscious of the image of their country abroad and how it was affected by the double attacks in this year, the one at the Bardo Museum and the other in Sousse. So, who may claim to be a true Tunisian? From all we know about the mindset of extreme Islamists, nationality, countries, and borders are irrelevant. Calling the likes of Rezgui traitors is of no consequence to them. What counts from their point of view is the propagation and strict enforcement of a supra-national Islam. As a result, it is no insult telling irhabis that they are not good citizens. They think of themselves as members of a universal community of believers (umma). The measure of a good action is then whatever serves the welfare of that community, its spreading, its strength, and its safety. Since the welfare of the umma is construed in power terms –and with no spiritual aims as in the days of the Prophet Muhammad – gruesome killings and utter destruction become all justifiable. The brainwashing method is frighteningly simple. 


As to what makes one a good Tunisian, everyone I met while in Tunisia exemplified it. They had questions, they reflected, they discussed, and they rejected violence. They may be confused about the right course of action. Who wouldn't? But I found them critical, vigilant, and highly aware of how quickly a country could descend into chaos. You could say they are citizens committed to civil society and to the idea that each voice deserves to be heard for as long as it doesn't bring harm upon others.