Neither president Zine El Abidine Ben Ali was attracted by retirement, nor president Omar Hassan al-Bashir likes it. The title of former president is not pleasant or attractive, and does not carry enough consolation. It is mingled with the smell of defeat, the adjournment of the troop of encomiasts, the absence of the flashes of photographers, and the attempts of advisors to wash their hands. Staying at the presidential palace is a type of addiction that is cured neither by advice nor by acupuncture. Power is a dazzling mine whose pleasures are only enjoyed by those who tried it. Arab presidents are not known for their wish to have time for their memoirs; they prefer to continue making history rather than writing it. They pretend to hold Charles de Gaulle in esteem, but do not adopt his exits. Neither the president likes the title of former president, nor the lady of the palace likes the title of former First Lady. I write this after reading statements by president Omar Hassan al-Bashir that really appealed to me. He said: “We won't need consolation if the Southerners in Sudan choose secession.” He assured that he wasn't afraid of an upheaval by the Sudanese against him, and that if a popular revolution similar to the Tunisian one were to take place, he would go out to his people so they could throw stones at him. He said he would not leave if the citizens rebelled against him. He added: “We will stay here and be buried in this land… when we know that the people does not want us, we will leave power without waiting for anyone to tell us to leave.” I liked the words of the Sudanese president. Had there not been the long experiences in the Arab world and its capitals, I would've taken them literally. It is a soft speech that can be said by the likes of Tony Blair. His sweet amicable talk about the South's departure reminded me of the velvet divorce that led to the birth of two states on the remains of Czechoslovakia, but without a million victims or even a slap. These were velvety words uttered by the president whose country map will shrink during his mandate. The events would surely have turned out otherwise if the “rescue revolution” had been inspired from the velvet dictionary two decades ago. This also reminded me of the velvety speech said by president Zine El Abidine Ben Ali before his regime was dissolved: he engaged himself not to punish his people by staying in the presidential palace for life, and blamed the advisors and sweet-talkers. He told the protesters “I understand you”, in de Gaulle's fashion. However, the belated velvet couldn't contain the wrath of people, and what happened happened. He became known as the former president; the fugitive president. Colonel Muammar Gaddafi is extremely smart. He reached the magic formula early enough. He is not a president, he has no mandate, and renewal or extension mean nothing to him. He is the leader of the revolution, and the revolution never grows old. It never retires, and never resigns. His stance on the storm that hit his Tunisian neighbor was outspoken, and did not require any velvet. Power is addictive, and the one who holds it is a lover that does not betray. Nonetheless, the Arab journalist is confronted with soft positions, such as the president telling him with excessive seriousness in a revelatory tone that he is awaiting the end of his mandate; that he can't wait to be with his children and play with his grand-children; and that what has kept him in his position to this day was the people's insistence and the country's need for him. The president knows the story, as he is behind it, and the journalist knows the story and so many others like it. The latter smiles, acknowledging the confession. The former smiles back, as he knows that the journalist knows. Then the journalist publishes this talk of asceticism, and the reader smiles. No one likes velvet, even if it is belated. No one likes the title of former president. Presidents ignore the fact that a great killer has entered the presidential palace's garden. This killer is the communications revolution. He who rejects the title of former president exposes himself to stronger sanctions. He who rejects the belated velvet risks a non-velvety fate for him and his country.
