Optimism: a first-world commodity

At a time when its neighbors are creating islands out of thin air and opening the first indoor ski resorts, the Republic of Yemen lags behind. Al Qaeda perpetuates extremism in the south, while the Houthi tribe does so in the north. On a national level, food, water and consumer good shortages cripple living standards. Still, the nation recently saw progress. After the expenditure of much civilian blood and effort, Ali Abdullah Saleh, dictator of 22 years, was ousted from office.

For almost a year, university students, dissident military leaders and various other members of the Yemeni community lived in tents in Change Square in Sanaa, organizing marches and protests and disseminating pro-democracy information and ideas. But unlike many other sites of popular protest during the Arab Spring, the power distribution in Yemen is such that the central government is not the only force to be reckoned with. The revolution differed in that it was markedly less about including democratic ideals in the government, and more about various powerful groups vying for hegemony. As a result, the government was pressured not to listen to the voices of the people, but rather to accommodate the wishes of the most powerful religious, tribal and militaristic organizations.

Over-privileged Americans like myself understood the popular youth movement in Yemen to be inspiring, almost idyllic. This sort of inspiration is a product of our firm optimism and belief that these individuals are capable of enacting change. American history is chock full of individuals who manage to instill values of democracy and populism into society purely on the basis of determination, conviction and respect. Alice Paul and many other women who were jailed during the American women’s suffrage movement bore humiliation and oppression, and then received voting rights. Martin Luther King, Jr. served undeserved jail time and dealt with acts of racism, ultimately earning civil rights for black Americans. American nationalism does nothing if not instill pride in our ability as individuals and as a population to right injustice, and the conception of the early American as the hard working go-getter who starts from nothing and achieves everything contributes to this “Yes we can!” attitude.

Perhaps this is why it is easy for me to see quantifiable steps forward in social movements as exciting. A president leaving office, the signing of a treaty, the U.N. condemning something. But it’s not as easy to be positive when one is a part of the situation, when the event doesn’t mean that violence ends or that people behave with any more common decency to each other. Tawakkul Karman, a human rights activist in Yemen who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2011, is still subject to constant ridicule for wearing a flowered and colorful hijab. Right up to the ejection of Saleh, young women in Change Square were harassed and musicians had their instruments broken and tuners stolen by religious zealots cohabiting the square. The political maneuvering continues in Yemen, just with different organizations and parties rising to the top of the heap. The goals of the youth of the revolution, including gender equality, religious freedom and increased democratic stipulations in government, weren’t realized, and the continuation of power plays between southern secessionist leaders, the al-Houthi clan, the military elite, the religious zealots and the outgoing governmental officials ensures transition, but doesn’t indicate real positive change in the manner that the youth components aspired to achieve. Activism in Yemen continues to echo the nation’s history: One step forward means two steps back.

It takes an incredibly special sort of person to see constant stagnancy and proceed undeterred. It often takes validation on some level to allow an individual to continue to make efforts. With zero prospect of success, who would continue? Just like the physical articulations of activism have prerequisites (adequate infrastructure to implement change, funding, etc.), the mindset does as well. The optimism required to believe that effort can make a difference and the inspiration to follow through with the supplication of that effort perhaps is a product of exposure to success stories and occasional victories, exposure to the success of Martin Luther King, Jr. or Alice Paul. It might even be that as we move further into the 21st century and face new social problems and foci of advocacy work, we will discover that much like MacBooks and higher education, optimism is a first world commodity.

Lydia Thurman is a Trinity sophomore.