Defeat of a rebel
The waiting room of Tunis’ Ministry of Home Affairs is packed with men. They are speaking loudly, all at the same time. Standing there with the kind of cultural disorientation tourists typically show, I cannot help thinking it is like being at the Medina market. I do not understand a single word of what they are saying, but I sense a slight discomfort in their tones and looks. Not only am I the only woman in the room, but also undoubtedly Western.
“Where are you from?”, Hassun suddenly asks me, interrupting the confused flow of Arabic words in the room. He is sitting behind a group of men, waiting for his passport to be checked and stamped by local authorities because he was expelled from Europe for being an undocumented immigrant last week. A man in his forties, his face showing the signs of a difficult past, but with a kind and young look, Hassun was born in the city of Kasserine at the border with Algeria where the protests which led to the spark of the Arab Spring first began. He defines himself “an anarchist rebel”, disappointed at all forms of governmental ruling and firmly convinced that “real democracy is a utopia”.
As an undocumented immigrant in Europe, he resided in seven countries, was expelled by four of them, spent five years in prison, and was abused by four Belgian officials.
His desire to tell me his story is so strong, we decide to meet later at the Café Paris in central Tunis, where he will be having a few drinks together with his nephew and friends.
As an undocumented immigrant in Europe, he resided in seven countries, was expelled by four of them, spent five years in prison, and was abused by four Belgian officials.
His desire to tell me his story is so strong, we decide to meet later at the Café Paris in central Tunis, where he will be having a few drinks together with his nephew and friends.
When he decided to leave Kasserine, he had little resources to travel to Europe via legal channels, and knew that no government would grant him the status of refugee.
He had heard about other Tunisians from Kasserine who went to Libya, a key transit point for illegal migration to Europe, and reached Italy by boat despite not having an official entry permit. People in his neighborhood explained to him that no identification document would be required for the journey organized by Libyan smugglers, and that the whole process would cost him approximately 2,000 Libyan dinars (circa 1,300 Euros).
“Some acquaintances in my city had friends who traveled to Sicily this way. They told me Libyan smugglers would take care of everything. I run my own business as a mechanic in Kasserine. Selling it to pay the journey seemed like the logical thing to do. That business was all I had”.
Hassun took that boat on the 8th of August 2005 together with about 300 men and women, paying his price both financially and psychologically. Three days later, they were rescued by the Italian Coast Guard in the international tract of water near Libya, and brought to the island of Lampedusa, Sicily.
“The guy driving the boat was from Egypt. He got a reduction in price for the journey for accepting to drive the boat. When we realized we were in great danger, he called the smugglers with his mobile to return to Libya. They told him they would kill us if we tried to go back. We thought we were dying but we had to keep going. Luckily, a man on board had a relative in Italy who called the Coast Guard for us”.
After spending three months in the immigration centre of Lampedusa, he went to Modena, in Northern Italy where he started selling heroine and cocaine until the authorities arrested him and convicted him to five years in jail. “I was illegally residing in the country, and the drug market was the easiest way of making money. I paid for my mistakes, but when are the authorities going to pay for their corruption and for the fact that all too often they violate the rights of the most vulnerable?”.
Hassun is angry. Yet, his anger masks a profound pain for seeing his initial expectations about a “dream Europe”, land of freedom and democracy, deceived.
What especially let him down is the way he felt his rights denied and abused in the immigration centre in Brussels where, he claims, the police tortured him. Together with the awareness that, while Tunisia does not feel like home anymore after twelve years abroad, Europe is only a far memory.
“I was smoking a cigarette in the courtyard of the center and the officers kept telling me I had to go back inside, but I just wanted to finish my smoke. Again, I got pretty angry and started insulting them, refusing to follow their orders despite their threats to hurt me. This is when four of them started beating me up until I stopped talking”.