MondAfrique: Gabès’ fight against pollution has reached historic levels, turning into a sustained protest movement with possible national consequences. Is this just a local uprising, or could it spark broader political change? Even if the unrest remains centered in Gabès, its intensity is unsettling authorities in Tunis—President Kaïs Saïed has promised “urgent” fixes, but still lacks a comprehensive strategy for the region.
Recent protests in Gabès echo Tunisia’s past: the 2008 Gafsa mining revolt (which was harshly suppressed and remained isolated), and the mass mobilizations of 2010-2011 that spread from neglected provinces to ignite a revolution and end a dictatorship.
On October 21, Gabès saw an unprecedented demonstration—at least 40,000 people took to the streets, with more protests planned for the days ahead. Rallies are now happening in front of the Tunisian Chemical Group’s headquarters in Tunis. The movement’s demand is straightforward: dismantle outdated, polluting chemical facilities that have destroyed Gabès’ unique coastal ecosystem since 1972, poisoned the air, and dumped thousands of tons of toxic waste into the sea daily.
But the protest has evolved into a powerful political statement. It targets three failures: a long history of internal exploitation benefiting a select few; political paralysis during the post-2011 transition, when leaders broke promises to clean up the region; and President Saïed’s lackluster response.
A Disillusioned but Awake Generation
While President Saïed initially acknowledged the legitimacy of the protesters’ demands, he soon pivoted to conspiracy theories, discrediting the movement as foreign-backed and equating it to Gen Z activism. Ironically, his rhetoric gave the protest a generational dimension—Gabès’ mobilization reflects the anger of young Tunisians frustrated by broken promises, rising social hardship, police violence, and growing inequality.
The GenZ Tunisie Facebook page answered official criticism: “We’re not a fad—we’re the living conscience of a nation struggling for air.” Their message cites daily realities: police repression, crumbling hospitals, a broken school system.
It’s especially notable because President Saïed once voiced support for youth-led change, calling on young Tunisians to move beyond traditional parties and reshape history. Yet now, he risks being seen as part of the old political order.
Can Gabès Rewrite Tunisia’s History?
Major change in Tunisia often starts in marginalized regions. The 2008 Gafsa uprising began with a protest over hiring practices at a mining company, snowballing into broader outrage at corruption, inequality, and environmental ruin. A brutal government crackdown followed, only contained by the absence of social media at the time.
In December 2010, Mohamed Bouazizi’s self-immolation sparked mass protests—his small act crystallized anger at extortion, economic exclusion, and predatory elites, paving the way for the revolution.
The Gabès movement, amplified by social media, is more resilient. It has clear local demands but taps into deep frustrations with corruption, stalled reform, and state neglect.
What Comes Next?
How and why mass movements succeed is always clearer in hindsight. In Gabès, the crisis goes far beyond pollution. The movement has built street power, attracted union and civil society support, and harnessed viral social networks—but can it scale nationally?
Dismantling the chemical plants is an immediate, tangible goal. A move toward deeper political reform is less likely—unless hope and a shared vision for change emerge. So far, the government has avoided violent repression. How the state responds will shape Gabès’ story—and perhaps Tunisia’s future.
