In All Frankness, President Saied Speaks Out
During the Council of Ministers meeting on Thursday, President Saied expressed himself in a straightforward manner. His latest speech is not just a presidential statement, but a radiography of the state of the country and its gravediggers.
An impartial observer will note the vigor of a head of state who no longer content with just putting out fires, but who finally designates the pyromaniacs lurking in the shadows and suddenly projected into the spotlight.
For there is in Saied's rhetoric an implacable constant: the refusal of pretenses. This is no longer the time for muted chatter or sugarcoated diagnoses. The President emphasizes that Tunisia is being targeted in its very existence, that crises do not fall from the sky like rain, but are manufactured, remotely controlled, and orchestrated with the cynical coldness of chaos engineering.
In the face of this observation, Saied opposes a clear line: a strong, indivisible state, backed by a popular sovereignty that is neither negotiable nor soluble in concessions. The idea is simple but revolutionary in its application: power belongs to the people, not to the behind-the-scenes merchants.
Those who bet on citizen fatigue are now facing a President who turns the argument around and reminds us that the people, far from being asleep, have decoded the maneuvers and recognized the puppeteers.
Perceptive, Saied unmasks what he calls the "system saved on January 14th": an ideology-free oligarchy, united by the sole glue of privileges and money. These "managers of disorder" who, until yesterday, claimed to embody the transition, are today pointed out as the architects of water cuts, power outages, and other covert operations.
But the novelty lies elsewhere: in the shift from reaction to action. Saied announces that it is no longer a question of governing by reflex, but by anticipation. This is a methodological rupture: instead of permanent tinkering, a vision will prevail.
In place of fatalism, a will. In place of imported chaos, an assumed sovereignty.
The President uses a almost surgical vocabulary to remind us that justice is not vengeance, but the universal application of the law. And whoever hoped to transform the Carthage Palace into a shadow puppet theater now understands that the curtain has fallen: the stage is bare, the actors are unmasked, and Tunisia is determined to move forward.
In a world where everything is wavering, the Head of State chooses verticality: no compromise, no foreign tutelage, no half-measures. His vision, sharp as a scalpel, resonates like a statement: Tunisia is not for sale, neither at a discount nor for rent.
