Tunisia's Economic Collapse: A Test of Political Will

Between the allure of rhetoric and the exercise of power

When I first covered political transitions in emerging economies, I always believed that a leader's words mattered less than their actions. That lesson has been harshly tested in Tunisia, where President Kais Saied promised to rebuild the nation through bold new economic policies. Yet today, those promises have crumbled under the weight of stark realities.

"The economy was far from delivering prosperity for all, and its benefits were distributed unfairly. But it remained cohesive and achieved steady growth averaging 4 percent annually during the decade before the revolution."

In the years leading up to the Arab Spring, Tunisia was not an ideal state — far from it. However, it had a functioning administration, balanced public finances, and a stable macroeconomic environment that allowed citizens to lead relatively decent lives. The revolution brought democratic freedoms, but also a profound shift in governance that failed to translate into economic stability.

When Saied took power in 2019, he was not just another politician — he offered something different. A narrative of wealth recovery, anti-corruption crusades, and a rejection of international institutions promised a new chapter for the country. His rhetoric resonated with many who had grown tired of political elites and their failures.

Yet the transition from talk to action was not straightforward. As the world watched, Tunisia began a journey that would test the very foundations of what it means to govern effectively in the 21st century.

The numbers are stubborn

What strikes me most about the current situation in Tunisia is how unyielding the data has become. After a brief post-pandemic rebound, GDP growth dropped from 4.7% in 2021 to just 0.2% in 2023 — and it hasn't improved significantly since. A rate of 2.5% might sound modestly positive, but for a country facing massive youth unemployment, it's barely enough to maintain the status quo.

Public debt has surged from around 67.8% of GDP in 2019 to nearly 85% by 2024. Financing needs have also increased dramatically — rising from 7.9% of GDP to 16%, forcing the government to rely increasingly on domestic sources, including direct loans from the Central Bank. In 2024 and again in 2025, the Treasury borrowed heavily from the banking system, essentially crowding out private investment.

This is a recipe for long-term economic decline. When governments are forced to print money or borrow at high rates, it undermines confidence — both within the country and internationally — and makes it even harder to attract foreign capital or secure loans on favorable terms.

And yet, despite these alarming trends, the population continues to face basic shortages. Water and electricity outages have become daily occurrences, and many Tunisians are now turning to migration as their only escape route from economic despair.

The collapse of the slogans

Saied's campaign focused heavily on ideological promises — particularly self-reliance, recovering stolen funds, and building community companies. These concepts were powerful not because they were novel, but because they offered a sense of control and justice to a population that had long felt marginalized.

However, as we look at the execution, these slogans have revealed themselves to be more empty than effective. The idea of self-reliance was supposed to insulate Tunisia from external financial dependence, but instead it led to greater reliance on its own fragile banking system. When domestic financing became scarce, borrowing from abroad became even more expensive — a vicious cycle.

As for the pursuit of 'stolen funds', the results have been chaotic rather than constructive. Prisons filled with businesspeople, while investors hesitated, and production suffered. The state failed to generate meaningful returns on this effort, and the economy remained stagnant. This wasn't just an economic failure — it was a political one too.

The community companies were meant to be a radical departure from traditional ownership models, inspired by global cooperative movements. But they lacked the necessary capital, planning, or management structures to succeed. Instead of driving development, they became another burden on already strained public resources.

The lesson from Tunisia

One thing is clear: leaders cannot be measured solely by the crises they inherit. They must also be held accountable for how well they navigate them — especially when those crises are shaped by their own decisions. In this case, Saied did not begin with a healthy economy. But his choices — particularly the centralization of power and rejection of institutional checks — have created conditions that have made recovery more difficult.

I've seen countless leaders make promises they couldn't keep, but few have gone so far in removing the very tools that might have helped fix problems — from press freedom to an independent judiciary. In Tunisia, the state's ability to respond and adapt has been severely constrained by the political decisions made in recent years.

The situation serves as a sobering reminder of what happens when economic thinking is sidelined for ideology, and when governance is reduced to the will of one man rather than the collective effort of many. It's a cautionary tale not just for Tunisia, but for any nation that believes slogans alone can build sustainable prosperity.

What lies ahead?

For Tunisians, the path forward may lie in re-building trust — both within institutions and between the state and its citizens. It's a difficult process, one that requires not just new policies but renewed commitment to fairness, transparency, and inclusive development.

For me, this story underscores why clarity in reporting matters so much. We must be able to explain complex situations without losing sight of human impact — especially when that impact is dire. The economic struggles in Tunisia are real, painful, and deeply personal — not just abstract statistics or political posturing.

As we continue to follow developments there, I hope readers understand how critical it is for nations to ground their visions in practical realities — not grand gestures or empty rhetoric.