The Arab Spring has been viewed as a failure for more than ten years, frequently depicted as a sporadic irrationalization that turned into repression, war, and authoritarian restoration. The uprising in Tunisia, which started on December 17, 2010, with the self-immolation of street vendor Mohamed Bouazizi in Sidi Bouzid, is frequently referred to as a tragic prelude to failed hopes rather than a transformative political moment.
This interpretation is inaccurate and incomplete in many ways.
Although all three of these were real, Bouazizi’s act was not just a response to police brutality, corruption, or economic exclusion. The quiet normalization of humiliation was shattered by this moral rupture, which exposed the moral foundations of authoritarian rule. A collective awakening about dignity, belonging, and the restrictions of obedience was what occurred in Tunisia and soon throughout much of the Arab world.
Therefore, the Arab Spring should be understood more as a sustained shift in political consciousness than as a failed transition. The most significant effects of it were not institutional but rather experiential, changing how people perceived their own capacity for acting and citizenship. That shift did not disappear, even when regimes were still in place or under control. The terrain where power is still contested has been altered.
For this reason, uprisings cannot be viewed as isolated national uprisings. Different societies moved simultaneously from Tunis to Cairo, Sanaa to Benghazi, with their histories shaped by distinct but interconnected emotional and political philosophies. The protesters were rejecting the notion that power could indefinitely prevent them from having access to information, voice, and equal citizenship, demanding material change as well as asserting themselves as political subjects.
This shift was embodied in the uprisings. They redefined who could claim legitimacy and what it meant. People were rehearsing alternative ways of living together while occupying public space by not simply opposing regimes. A lived reimagining of political possibility was less of a program than a practice, being shaped by action as opposed to design.
The transformation of streets and squares into places for collective learning was one of its most significant aspects. Places that had long been dominated by the state’s coercive and symbolic power were reclaimed as places of mutual recognition and participation. Common citizens arranged security, cleaned streets, debated demands, and bargained differences in Cairo’s Tahrir Square, Tunisian Bourguiba Avenue, and Sanaa’s Change Square. Politics were swayed away from public spaces.
For a simple reason, these instances were significant: they demonstrated that democracy is a social practice that can be learned through action as well. Protesters imposed responsibility rather than just rights. The experience of inhabiting these spaces left a lasting impression even after they were later violently reclaimed or cleared. Democracies are remembered even after they have lived it briefly.
The Arab uprisings also demonstrated the importance of cities. Sidi Bouzid is an excellent illustration of a powerful example of a revolt being sparked in the periphery and marginal spaces, but they are also carried on or defeated in urban centers. This is a structure-related claim rather than virtue. Cities focus on historical memory, social networks, and institutions. They make authority tangible rather than abstract, putting people directly in direct opposition to the power-making machinery, including ministries, courts, and security services.
In markets, neighborhoods, mosques, and universities, there are a large repertoires of social bonds that are forged in urban life: trust, cohesion, debate, and solidarity. Collective action can continue after the initial moment of rupture thanks to these networks. Uprisings run the risk of being episodic without them. They become more resilient with them, even when they are oppressed.
Of course, repression erupted quickly and brutally. Counter-revolution, militarisation, and war followed the excitement of those early months. Regimes asserted control over bodies, spaces, and memory in many Arab cities as a response. What followed would be dishonestly romanticized.
The symbolic struggle that was sparked by repression did not, however, end. Protesters from across the country targeted both the imagery and rituals that supported authoritarian rule. Statues were ruined, slogans scrawled over dominance symbols, and portraits were torn down. These acts didn’t involve theatrical excess. They attempted to break up the emotional framework of resentment and fear.
Even when they are followed by defeat, such events leave traces. How we perceive and feel authority is altered by the collective transgression of once-inviolable lines. People are taught that power can be confronted, mocked, and undone, even for a short while. That understanding is retained even after being suppressed.
Despite repeated attempts to portray the Arab Spring as a historical error or cautionary tale, it is still alive and well. A pedagogy of liberty was what persisted, not a collection of institutions. This method of instruction changed how people perceived agency, responsibility, and resistance as they were learned through reflection and action in public space.
Today’s quieter, more dispersed battles are a reflection of its effects. Young people from all over the region are organizing to fight for social justice, environmental degradation, and public accountability. They may not invoke 2011 but they still exhibit an innate resistance to fatalism. This enduring skepticism is embodied in a graffiti on the street in Hay Ettadhamen, a marginalized Tunisian suburb, that reads, “Is Tunisia a republic, a monarchy, an animal farm, or a prison”?
Here, the Arab Spring’s most enduring contribution is found. It demonstrated that acts that take place in isolated spaces can reshape people’s imagination and broaden the scope of the possible. Bouazizi’s opposition to democracy did not lead to instant change. However, it sparked a critical awareness that permeates struggles against injustice and exclusion.
The uprisings continued. They no longer have any meaning, though.
Source: Aljazeera
Leave a Reply