The umbrellas of Sousse

Three summers ago, as a graduate student living in Tunisia, I took a break from my research and spent a long weekend on the beach in a resort town called Hammamet, protected from the hot sun by one of the many colorful umbrellas that dotted the sand. Hammamet sits roughly halfway between Tunis and Sousse, the site of last month’s terror. I thought of Hammamet as the images of Sousse – and its umbrellas – began streaming in. Reports indicate that the assailant, a young man named Seifeddine Rezgui, used a beach umbrella to conceal an automatic rifle as he strolled the sand in search of tourists to kill. An umbrella is designed to shield its user from the harshness of nature. Evidently Rezgui found a more sinister use, upgrading the nature of harshness in the process.

For Tunisia, whose experiment in democracy is in a fragile stage, the murder of 38 foreign visitors is another, possibly fatal, blow to one of the country’s more important economic engines, coming mere months after three gunmen killed twenty-one foreigners and one Tunisian citizen at the Bardo National Museum, a popular tourist destination in the capital. That there were tourists in Sousse this summer was something of a miracle, one that seems all the more remote for the foreseeable future.

{mosads}Beyond its potential economic effects, Rezgui’s assault will likely bring heightened attention to the problem of violent Islamism inside Tunisia. Hours after the attack, the so-called Islamic State in Iraq and Syria (ISIS) claimed Rezgui as one of its foot soldiers, and there are indications he may have gone to Libya to train with radical groups there. In response to Friday’s attack, Tunisian President Beji Caid Essebsi has declared a state of emergency and the Tunisian parliament resumed debate on a controversial anti-terrorism law. Domestic and international human rights groups are concerned, understandably, that the state of emergency and certain provisions of the anti-terrorism law could erode hard-fought gains in civil liberties, fuel the extremism motivating people like Rezgui, and bring Tunisia back to the pre-revolution days of a police state.

But there is something increasingly tired and not terribly constructive about this security-versus-liberty refrain. If Sousse means anything, it is that the country’s fate remains very much up for grabs. For precisely that reason, what Tunisia needs today is not another banal reminder about overreacting to security threats, but rather some fresh ideas about how to balance a commitment to civil liberties with the imperative to provide enough security. Tunisia (and all of us) would benefit from some creative thinking about how to move forward, knowing that there will be no quick fixes, no law enforcement arrangement that can reduce the terrorist threat to zero, and no policy that will satisfy everyone.

As they struggle to preserve their embattled democracy, Tunisians must know that the U.S. has not forgotten them. The Sousse attack did not produce any American victims, but this should not detract from the strong U.S. interest in seeing Tunisia thrive. In the near term, we should demonstrate what our recent designation of Tunisia as a Major Non-NATO Ally means in practice and expedite assistance that enables Tunisia to secure its tourist sites and other likely terrorist targets. Longer term assistance would ideally focus on helping the Tunisians transform their armed forces and state security apparatuses — which for decades were trained to fight conventional armies and protect a regime from its populace, respectively — into institutions better suited to counter insurgencies and confront terrorism. Reshaping any institution is a laborious process that takes years, if not decades. That process is underway in Tunisia, but it will require continued U.S. engagement to succeed. 

U.S. assistance should also target Tunisia’s economy. During his recent visit to Washington, President Essebsi secured a $500 million loan guarantee from the Obama administration. U.S. officials should urge the Tunisian government to take out a loan with American backing and put the borrowed funds toward development projects in long-neglected regions of the country, thereby spurring short-term job growth and potentially offsetting losses from the decline in tourism.

Finally, U.S. policymakers should not underestimate the importance of bold symbolic gestures. Following the attack, President Obama called President Essebsi to offer condolences and reiterate American support. As public demonstrations of solidarity go, a phone call is rather minimal. Groups like ISIS are employing extravagant visual displays to project an aura of power and invincibility. Defeating them will require military action, but this is also a war of ideas and imagery. Imagine the psychological (and economic!) impact of the first family vacationing in Tunisia this summer. A fantasy, perhaps. But maybe not. If the Obamas do decide to visit the birthplace of the Arab Spring, I can recommend a lovely spot in Hammamet.

Feuer is a Soref Fellow at the Washington Institute for Near East Policy.