Par Mohamed Salah Ben Ammar*
There is, in the Mediterranean, a light that does not lie. It falls on the squares of Tunis, Bizerte, Jendouba, Kasserine, on the ruins of Dougga and Carthage, in the streets of Kairouan, Tozeur and on the cliffs of Haouaria. She caresses the bustling markets, the cafes where silences full of memories take place, the ports where fishing nets dry in the sun. This light sees everything: Kef, Douz, Kerkouane, El Jem… and today a Prince. She sees his isolation, his obsession with control, his silent palaces and suspended decrees. She also sees the stubborn patience of the residents, those who live, work and breathe every day, and who only allow themselves to be fooled for a while.
Machiavelli and the truth of power
Machiavelli did not write to flatter ideals; he wrote to look man in the face. The Prince does not promise justice: he describes virtù, the ability to dominate fortune, to seize opportunity, to govern with audacity and cunning. To govern is to confront the fear, hope and weariness of men, to understand that obedience is fragile and that freedom, even reduced, always ends up being reborn.
Kaïs Saied, in this tired Tunisia, surely one day had “The Prince” in his hands. And he tries to apply the ideas to the letter. Concentration of power, neutralization of institutions, manipulation of the story, exploitation of weariness: he built his fort and gave the impression that law and virtue merged with his face.
People, the sea and fortune
But fortune, like the sea, always escapes the hand of the Prince. The city dwellers of Tunis, the agricultural workers of Sidi Bouzid, the fishermen of Mahdia and Kélibia, the students of Sfax or Gabès, despite control and centralization, remain unpredictable. They live in the tumult of the markets, the silence of the cafes, the cries of children in the squares and the sound of the waves on the quays. Their patience is silent, their revolt discreet but persistent. Sooner or later, they shatter the illusion of the powerful, because real life submits neither to decrees nor to speeches.
The Prince believed he could reduce the sea to a mirror: each wave must reflect his will. He deceived some of the residents, seduced by promises of security and order. But the sea, this Mediterranean light, never allows itself to be enclosed. It eats away the sand, erases the traces, and always ends up revealing the reality: the Prince is only an illusion in the face of those who live, observe and resist.
Solitude and the mirage of power
The Prince is still alone. He is so in his palaces, in his decisions, in his speeches. Fear and isolation can last for a while, but solitude is the truth of all personal power. Machiavelli said it: one can conquer, but never fully possess fortune. Camus adds: we can dominate, but never extinguish life, freedom and revolt. The Prince believes himself to be master; light knows that domination is always relative.
Mediterranean light and history
Tunisia is a palimpsest. Under the sand, in the stones and in the old laws, the traces of Justinian, of the Bey, of the first aspirations for freedom can still be read. The Prince tries to erase this memory, to rewrite history to his advantage. But the Mediterranean light is eternal: it illuminates the ruins, the markets, the faces, and reveals what the Prince would like to hide. It reminds us that those who live in this country – young, old, workers, workers, artisans, craftsmen, students – are not fools, and that all illusion ends up dissolving in the light of the days.
Machiavelli, Saied and the societies that live
Machiavelli offers the technique: Kaïs Saied applied it. But Camus reminds us that life, dignity and freedom never submit to technology. Tunisia is not only the theater of a Prince: it is a living, rebellious space, capable of resisting the excesses of power. Virtù does not reside only in the man who governs, but in the creativity, patience and memory of the inhabitants, in the simple gestures: the sailor who repairs his net, the student who debates in the café, the worker who folds her hands in the dust of the fields.
The Machiavellian illusion, however powerful it may be, can never erase the light. And it is this light, stubborn and full of history, which will ultimately expose all deception, all manipulation, all pretension to absolute power.
L’horizon
The Prince can accumulate titles and prerogatives, muzzle speech, suspend institutions and manipulate opinion. But he cannot extinguish the sea, nor erase the light. Tunisia teaches us that power is never total: it is measured by the silent resistance, the history and the collective intelligence of those who live there. Between Machiavelli and Saied, real fortune belongs to those who work, observe, resist and hold on. And the eternal Mediterranean light always ends up triumphing over illusion.
* Pr Mohamed Salah Ben Ammar MD – MBA
