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Democracy Without a Social Base
Tunisian sociologist Tahar Labib argues that the core problem of democracy in the Arab region is not merely repression by regimes, but that it never emerged as a deeply rooted social demand. Democracy did not evolve into a social, political, and cultural project embedded in people’s consciousness, “shaping their understanding of the relationship between ruler and ruled.”
In other words, values such as citizenship, political participation, and the separation of powers never became part of society’s “common sense.” They remained largely confined to political and civil elites — visible in discourse but absent from social structures. In this sense, Labib’s view aligns with Antonio Gramsci, who believed that no democratic system can truly take root without a quiet revolution in consciousness, making democratic values self-evident rather than mere slogans.
While people may rise against authoritarianism, they are often ill-prepared to defend the democratic institutions that follow. Put differently, rebelling against injustice does not automatically mean embracing the rules of the democratic game.
When transitional periods turn into sharp partisan conflicts, clashing ideological rhetoric, and visible governance failures, many people begin to feel that freedom brings only disorder and chaos. Nostalgia for strong authority resurfaces as it seems “the guarantor of order and stability.” This exposes the fragility of democracy’s social foundations: it was not defeated because it was intellectually rejected, but because it had never been deeply rooted in society.
It Was a Top-Down Modernization
Tunisia’s post-independence state illustrates this contradiction. It pursued ambitious modernization, but from above rather than through participatory processes that could reshape the relationship between state and society. The state expanded education, organized family life, advanced women’s rights, and built a relatively modern administration. Social life was transformed (to an extent) yet, the political sphere remained tightly controlled. Public action was monopolized, and autonomous civic spaces or peaceful competition for power were blocked. The result was a shallow social modernization without political change — modern in form, hollow in substance.
Citizens never became active political actors; they were treated as passive recipients of state policies. The paternalistic state claimed sole authority over the “public interest,” deciding what to grant or withhold, whom to punish or reward, and what was permitted or forbidden. Accountability never took root, and politics remained a space where ordinary people had little influence. Democracy existed more as a slogan than a lived reality, further weakened by opposition groups that often reproduced the same regime patterns of control, albeit in new forms. In short, the state sought to fit society into its project rather than allow society to participate in shaping it.
A Misunderstanding Between Society and Elites
During the democratic transition, a key question emerged: was society ready to carry the “project” of democracy? From the start, there was a disconnect. The public saw democracy primarily as a tool to improve daily life, while elites became absorbed in struggles for power within the new system.
This occurred amid a rapid political transition that lacked corresponding social or cultural change. Even institutions created in the name of democracy — the constitution, temporary constitutional bodies, and freedom laws — seemed distant and irrelevant to most people, perceived as elite or partisan concerns with little effect on daily life.
With a fragile civil society, rapid polarization, and partisan conflicts that drained public trust and trivialized political pluralism, democracy lacked a firm social foundation. Revolutionary slogans and inflated expectations created confusion, preventing democratic values from becoming something people would defend. Instead, democracy remained a weak, replaceable mechanism. When backlash occurred, it barely shocked the public and left elites — civil society actors and political parties alike — disoriented. In this context, democracy that does not become a cultural norm remains fragile; values that fail to take root can be uprooted at the first storm.
Silent Anger
Today, politics has largely been removed from the public sphere, and authorities seek to monopolize every instrument of action, breaking with the past while portraying it as the source of all failures. The regime exploits public frustration over futile political conflicts, raising a crucial question: has July 25, 2021, coup achieved any popular demands that justify targeting the previous trajectory?
The obvious answer is no. The crisis persists, and public frustration has deepened. Unlike 2011, when hope fueled mass uprisings, anger today is contained, simmering silently, with unpredictable consequences.
Restoring Politics
Society today is not shocked as much as it is gradually exhausted. Trust in political action and actors has eroded, and attention to public affairs and collective engagement has dwindled. Political discourse becomes fodder for ridicule on social media, and elections and other milestones seem like formalities. Worse, the reservoir of popular anger is slowly detaching from political action, its direction and outcome increasingly unpredictable.
Can the political opposition — or what remains of it — restore credibility? Two conditions are essential. First, a careful reassessment of the democratic transition, acknowledging mistakes made by all actors, even to varying degrees. Second, recognition that restoring democracy is not merely about confronting power over its monopoly of the public space, but about deeply understanding the tense relationship between a people striving to improve social conditions and a democracy promoted by elites who often appear aloof.
Conclusion
Tunisia’s experience shows that democracy cannot thrive on slogans or elite discourse alone. It requires a social and cultural foundation that transforms values into lived practices and shared expectations. Without this grounding, revolutions may ignite, but democratic institutions remain vulnerable, and public anger can simmer silently for years. Building a resilient democracy demands patience, inclusion, and deep engagement with society — not just with its elites. Only then can the promise of freedom move beyond aspiration and become a stable reality.
Messaoud Romdhani is a Tunisian Human Rights activist, former president of the Tunisian Forum for Economic and Social Rights, former vice president of the Tunisian Human Rights League.
Photo credit: Jubilant demonstrators on steps of Municipal Theatre, Avenue Bourguiba, Central Tunis, January 22, 2011
