Why I March

In appearance, there is very little in common between the most powerful democracy in the world, the United States of America, and Tunisia, a small North African Arab country, where I come from. Yet as I watched the presidential campaign unfold over the last year, the similarities between the two nations were troubling…

In 2011, in Tunisia, after a historical revolution and an intoxicating Arab spring spread around, the stakes were high. We were, after all, the pioneers of democracy in the region, a societal laboratory in the making.

For the dreamers with great hopes of a modern and free society, awakening from the results of the elections was harsh. The Arab Spring felt robbed and prophetic of a cold, dark winter ahead. Conservatism won. Populism won. Isolationism won. Islamism had won. Despite the inflammatory rhetoric and shocking ideas spouted throughout the campaign, a majority of people demanded a strong break with the “corrupted” past. And the Islamists offered that.

Soon after the election, some felt entitled to spread messages of hate, bigotry, sexism, racism. Verbal and physical attacks against artists rose in number and frequency. I personally felt the bullying. Because I was a model. Because of the “perversion” I was representing; I had notably appeared that year in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. I was a threat. My body was a threat. A Facebook group calling for my death collected over 5,000 likes.

How ironic it is that only a few years later, in a very different country and reality, because of my own identity and faith, I will be seen as a threat again…