Jam sad, devastated that a government presided over by a woman (a first in the modern history of North Africa) has dared to imprison another woman, Chaima Issa, with her companions in misfortune, for having exercised freedoms that the revolution of January 14, 2011 in Tunisia had won him.
This major step opened up the promise of a new democratic imaginary, where women of all conditions, hair down or hair down, had challenged the fanaticism of religious extremism with as much courage as they had fought against secular absolutism. This progress now seems to have been destroyed.
Chaima Issa has the petulance of Mediterranean women, which testifies to an energy other than simply political. Many are those who, without being politically engaged, have suffered secular oppression in all its forms, and have fought it in their daily lives, to free themselves not only from male domination, but from some existing power whose evils are injustice, inequality, abuse, ignorance. Beyond the domestic emancipation of women, Chaima Issa defends the work of public freedoms accomplished by the revolution.
Chaima, a modern young woman, like so many others, full of spirit, her beautiful brown hair falling on her neck enhanced by the bright colors of her scarves, who shares text messages with her friends about moisturizing creams; Chaima, so sensitive to violence against human rights, but insensitive to intimidation; Chaima, whose democratic desire has the intrepid seduction of her bravery, convinced that the air of freedom and frankness that she spreads around her can win over the crowds; Chaima, whose struggle goes beyond feminism, faithful to the age-old magnanimity of women, which also embraces men in their democratic passion; Chaima, a joyful and reckless figure of peaceful gatherings and anti-totalitarian dissent, was arrested in the middle of the street, attacked by a sudden convoy of security brigades, captured in a scene that makes the malignant joy of social networks, worthy of the games of arena of ancient Rome, where Christians were thrown to the beasts to amuse the crowds.
Chaima Issa is not just a prisoner of conscience. His insolence, his resonance, which grows in the cowardly silence of men (apart from his comrades of the National Salvation Front), his self-confidence which gives his speeches a clear and fresh tone; her way of defying prohibitions, which has always been the resistance of even the most archaic women; her art of speech, which our grandmothers naturally possessed, and which she places at the service of a universal ideal whose instruction has transmitted the torch to her; it all comes to life in her in the evidence of her smiling face, her sparkling eyes behind her red-rimmed glasses that add a touch of mischievous coquetry to the masculine harshness of politics.
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