Freedom is Always Worth a Fight
Remember the Arab Spring — the pro-democracy uprisings that swept across the Middle East and North Africa starting in late 2010? I hope so. They should not be forgotten.
In case we need a refresher, here it is.
These movements were fueled by widespread discontent over authoritarianism, corruption, human rights abuses, and economic stagnation. Citizens rose up, demanding greater freedoms, justice, and dignity. While some nations experienced significant political reforms, others descended into conflict, civil war, or a return to authoritarian rule, making the legacy of the “Arab Spring” complex and contested.
But — should we regret the Arab Spring? Or any fight for freedom?
I say NO.
That’s what I said in the chamber at the Oxford Union in March when I was invited to debate the issue. And today, there’s a lesson — a legacy — that remains relevant. This isn’t just about the so-called Arab Spring.
Before getting into it, I wanted to unpack some of the language used in the debate.
First, “regret” is not for us to decide in the halls of Oxford. Those on the ground whose realities led to the uprisings — whose lives were impacted by them — are the ones to decide if there is anything to regret.
And “Arab Spring”? This is a Western-invented catchphrase that doesn’t reflect the region’s history and realities. It’s reductive and simplistic, as if the region was in winter or darkness and would suddenly wake up and rise. Tunisia coined the term “Revolution of Dignity” to reflect the core motivation behind the uprisings: the deep-seated desire for rights, freedoms, and, crucially, dignity.
We cannot regret our inherent human desire for better lives.
First, fighting for freedom — revolutions! — are not singular events. Rather they are built from many cumulative acts of resistance. They are not seasonal — they are systemic. Second, processes of social change are not linear. They advance and retreat — and regress. Backlashes are normal reactions to pushes for progress. But people push on, with the belief that long-term gains will outweigh short-term turmoil. Third, human rights are for everyone — and it is natural to fight for them. Real people rise up because they know they deserve better lives. And they should have them!
As a feminist, an activist, an aid worker, an academic, and an author, it is my firm belief — backed by ample research — that women are the barometer of social change. Peace is incomplete without their freedom. This is the lens through which I see the world.
What led to these uprisings? Demands for change, sparked by deteriorating social, economic, and political conditions, and a desire for a better life and a new order beyond authoritarian regimes. And who led it? Young and old, rural and urban, religious and secular, academics and activists, men and women — the region was ignited. It was a remarkable moment, but it wasn’t just a moment. The uprisings evolved from a history of fighting for rights, freedom, and justice — not a blip or an accident or an exception, but rather the culmination of decades of activism, both visible and invisible.
Let’s talk about women…
They were on the frontlines, serving as organizers, journalists, medical aids, and leaders — shattering stereotypes about women’s roles in the public sphere. Yes, women resist inequalities every single day simply because we are women, but this was a highly visible representation of women exerting their freedom and challenging prevailing conservative norms.
Yes, outcomes were mixed, with increased conflict and state repression in some places, and socioeconomic conditions worsening. Some might argue that any progressive changes were cosmetic and short-lived. And still, to “regret” the uprisings is to imply that the status quo was preferable, ignoring the systemic oppression and lack of opportunity that fueled them.
We do not regret this.
Social change is seldom linear, and in this case, as in many others, there were heavy crackdowns and brutal backlash. Examining this through the lens of women, this is nothing new. Women’s rights are violated before, during, and after revolutions. But during the uprisings, women continued to resist, and in some cases, the backlash even prompted more women to take action.
There were some concrete outcomes for women. In Tunisia, the constitution enshrined gender equality and guaranteed women the right to run for president — a first in the region. Constitutional reforms in Morocco and Yemen established equal rights for men and women. Libya held its first free election in 2012, and women secured 17% of parliamentary seats — a level comparable to some Western democracies. In Saudi Arabia, women were granted suffrage in 2015 and could stand for elections for the first time.
The uprisings also advanced shifts in social norms. In regions where women’s protest participation was high, studies show that domestic violence rates fell and women’s decision-making power at home rose. In the years that followed, sustained campaigns resulted in the passing of groundbreaking legislation to combat violence against women throughout the region — most notably the repeal of the controversial “marry your rapist” law. Inspired by the uprisings, the longstanding campaign for women to drive in Saudi Arabia regained momentum, and the ban was lifted in 2017. The revolutions also expanded ways of organizing, with cyberactivism allowing for transnational solidarity, spaces for expression in less open societies, awareness raising, and rapid mobilization. We even see this today in Palestine.
The uprisings advanced the call for democratic change, putting pressure on governments to reform. The result was an unprecedented surge in civil society engagement, fostering a culture of activism and civic participation that continues to influence the region. And, the uprisings made women’s rights part of mainstream discourse.
To judge the uprisings based on their immediate aftermath ignores the long arc of history, where change often comes through struggle and setbacks. Despite those setbacks, there are many who still desire change. To say the uprisings were “regrettable” is to disregard their voices.
We do not regret this.
The uprisings are firstly about people. People like Yasmina Benslimane, a young woman from Morocco, raised by a single mother in a country with laws and practices that are oppressive to women. Morocco’s uprising galvanized her activism, catapulting her to the forefront of a digital revolution. This led to the birth of her organization, Politics4Her, a movement by young women, for young women, to help them access political power in a region that denies women this right. Yasmina said the uprisings serve as a reminder that young people in the region are hungry for equality, rights, dignity, justice — and they will not stop fighting until those gains are won. Amal Ouachhou, another woman from Morocco, told me: “In our feminist activism, we often refer back to the uprisings… proud moments when we became more aware of our rights and recognized the need for meaningful, youth-led change. It fueled our hope…”. Yasmina, Amal, and many others, were ignited as a result of the uprisings. They are its legacy.
Today, the region has some of the worst social indicators for women, and gender equality will not be achieved in our lifetimes. The reality is that no single country has achieved equality for women. According to The World Economic Forum, it will take over 130 years to close the gender gap. So the denial of women’s rights and freedoms is a global problem, and the fight for rights and democracy is a global fight. No country can succeed if it continues to leave half of its population behind. Evidence shows that politics is stronger with women, economies are stronger with women, peace is stronger with women. It’s a lesson the entire world has yet to learn.
I am not romanticizing “revolution” or naive about its outcomes, but to say “regret” (or not) — are the answers so simple? And by whose metrics are we measuring this? The uprisings were a demand for rights and freedoms. For young women like Yasmina and Amal. And for everyone. To regret that is to regret the universal desire for these fundamental values.
We do not regret this.
What is the “Arab Spring” today? It is both a lesson and a legacy. It is a lesson in that freedom is not a tickbox — it is an evolving goal. It is a legacy in that people will rise up as often as it takes, for as long as it takes. It is also a global learning. It reminded the world that the region is not passive and has always been able to act in its own interest. It debunked stale colonial stereotypes that “Arabs are not fit for democracy.” Evidence now clearly shows that the West does NOT have the gold standard in democracy, considering the descent of many countries into authoritarianism.
Anyway, all so-called democracies were born without women. Women had to fight to be included, and are still fighting for that inclusion! On the day before this debate, an article appeared in The Guardian by Somali feminist Hibaaq Osman, a call to revolution for women in the US whose rights, bodies, and autonomy are under attack. Hibaaq wrote: “The new administration threatens to undo decades of progress in America, but as North Africa and the Middle East have shown, there is power in female solidarity… The message from your sisters in the Arab world? Don’t give up: Resistance works.”
Yes — resistance works. No — we do not regret the resistance that led to the Revolution of Dignity, and whatever resistance may follow. Look around — there are uprisings everywhere. And everyone who was, is, and will be fighting for their freedom is not doing so in vain. Daring to dream of a more equal world.
We do not regret this.
Pay attention to the lessons here. The fight for freedom and social justice is never truly over. Nor is it confined to one region. It’s happening right now on our doorsteps. From the ongoing campus protests globally advocating for Palestinian rights, to the continuous struggle for reproductive freedom in the United States in the aftermath of Roe v. Wade’s overturning, people worldwide are actively resisting systemic injustices.
These movements — much like our Arab uprisings — demonstrate that the pursuit of dignity, equality, and fundamental rights is a long, yet absolutely essential, journey. Freedom is always worth fighting for.
The fires of resistance may smolder at times, but they will not go out. And people will rise up again. And again. And again.
Until the cause is won.
