And jasmine will bloom again

“Tunisia will never be destabilised because Tunisia is a nation. A nation cannot be destabilised. Yes, a regime can be destabilised; a country can be made to march on in a state of abandonment and penance for years, but from there to erase the consciousness and subconscious of a nation... it would take several atomic bombs to make it disappear from the map”. He said it forcefully in 1980 in an unpublished interview on television - which you can see thanks to YouTube - the king of Morocco at the time, Hassan II, when French journalists questioned him about what happened that year in Gafsa, when an armed insurrection tried to remove Habib Bourguiba from power. 

Today, just as the Maghreb country has once again been shaken by a terrorist attack - last Friday, two suicide bombers were blown up in front of the police patrol guarding the US Embassy - the forceful words of the loquacious Alaouite monarch resound in my head. 

These are days of mixed feelings. With my suitcase half unpacked from my recent Tunisian trip, these are days with a bittersweet taste. My palate has the burning taste of Cap Bon's harissa and the sweetness of Sidi Bousaid's orange juice. Within me these days, the joy of the memory of the light and the warmth and the generosity of the people of Tunisia coexist with the infinite sadness of seeing a land once again watered with useless blood and death. 

Why, my God? But the terrorists will not be able to bring Tunisia and its people to their knees. I have no doubt after having gone through the depths of its dreary and beautiful medina; after having seen the laughter, scolding and conversation of the representatives of its enthusiastic youth in the new cafeterias of the colonial city; after having observed the vitality and nocturnal voluptuousness of Gammarth's theatres and clubs; of having walked through the corridors of the museum of Bardo, overwhelmed by so many mosaics and so much past; of having enjoyed the almost pornographic spectacle of the fresh fish that is offered and sold on the main street of La Goulette, where families display gilthead breams, soles and cuttlefish, still almost wriggling. The land of Carthage, the land of Hannibal, the small and hardened Punic, Berber and Arab Republic of the Mediterranean, will not be subdued by a minority that is a victim of despair and indoctrination.

It would be wrong, both for citizens of the young and vibrant Tunisian democracy, which is an outpost of equality and dignity for the Maghreb and Arabs, and for visitors and lovers of this unique corner of the North African site, to deny the problem of religious radicalism and violence, which have found fertile ground in the southern areas. Tunisia is not only the lively cafes of the Habib Bourguiba promenade, the epicentre of the so-called jasmine revolution and the starting point for the Arab springs, nor the sophisticated terraces of La Marsa or the exuberant hotel complexes of Susa or Hammamet. Tunisia is also a country burdened by a perhaps critical economic situation, with great imbalances and an urgent need for help from its neighbours. We must continue, together, to combat this problem with more education, more development, more democracy, more coordination and help between neighbours. 
What has happened in Les Berges du Lac, a peaceful financial and commercial district overlooking Lake Tunis, where I ended up not proposing to do so a couple of times during my recent trip, does not, of course, help to generate the necessary trust amongst those who might be tempted to drop money into Tunisia. Poor Tunisia. 

Tonight on the plateau, when I feel the light of the Maghreb so far away, the aroma of orange blossom from Sidi Bousaid's orange trees reaches me from the window as I sleep. And the fragrance of the jasmine along the walls of the villas of Carthage, which is the same as the little bunches that grandmother delicately placed in the hall of the house in our village far from the fertile plain of the Guadalquivir. They remind me that, despite the tragedy, the orange blossom and jasmine will once again bloom in this early spring. Because, with the pain and happiness that has gathered this week, Tunisia, the lighthouse of the Maghreb, the blue pride of the Mediterranean, everything, I am sure, will prevail.