This chapter introduces how fundamental ideas about nonviolent resistance can be rethought within a micro-sociological framework and how this reveals everyday emotional, bodily, and micro-social dynamics of nonviolent resistance. The chapter presents a micro-sociological re-theorization of nonviolent resistance as shaped by dynamics of rhythms, destabilization of domination interaction, energizing and de-energizing repression, and emotional feedback loops. The chapter shows how an occupying power or authoritarian regime can be understood as a tightly organized musical ensemble with dominating interactions and rhythmic coordination, and how nonviolent resistance can disrupt the rhythmic coordination and domination by a regime; hence, destabilizing and potentially challenging the power relation. The chapter discusses how concrete nonviolent actions can defy domination and the degree to which they can be useful for challenging violent repression. It further discusses how repression can be both energizing (e.g., bringing people together at funerals), which mobilizes them even further, or de-energizing, with less visible and yet often equally lethal violence (e.g., torture in prisons). In conflicts of nonviolent resistance, the battle is determined by whether the protesters or the regime are able to dominate the situation and challenge the tight, rhythmic coordination and unity of the opponent. If neither party is able to dominate but are sufficiently energized to continue fighting, the situation will escalate. Finally, the chapter discusses how nonviolent resistance can foster long-term change.Footnote ¹

Literature on Nonviolent Resistance

Nonviolent resistance has been a focus of peace and conflict research since the 1950s, inspired by Gandhi’s successful nonviolent overthrow of British colonial power in 1947 (Wallensteen Reference Wallensteen, Hoglund and Oberg2011b). Conflict transformation and nonviolent resistance share many things in common, including a commitment to social change, justice, and transformation of structural violence obtained through peaceful means (Dudouet Reference Dudouet2008). In many ways, nonviolent resistance is the answer to the critical question of whether peace research weights stability higher than justice and change, as well as how justice and human rights may be promoted without resorting to violence. Peace and conflict scholars have recently come to focus more on nonviolent conflict, both because the Arab Uprisings demonstrated the importance of understanding nonviolent resistance for studying international conflicts and because a new data set of nonviolent campaigns collected by Chenoweth and Stephan (Reference Chenoweth and Stephan2011) allows researchers to assess the dynamics and mechanisms of nonviolence quantitatively (Chenoweth et al. Reference Chenoweth, Lewis and Cunningham2013; PRIO 2013). This has also allowed for research investigating the linkages between conflict transformation and nonviolent resistance (e.g., when and how often nonviolent uprisings are mediated) (Svensson and Lundgren Reference Svensson and Lundgren2018), as well as an increased interest in emotions and protests (Bramsen et al. Reference Bramsen and Hagemann2019; Castells Reference Castells2012; Jasper Reference Jasper2018; Solomon Reference Solomon2019; Volpi and Jasper Reference Volpi and Jasper2017).

Nonviolent resistance implies direct, nonviolent action challenging a regime and/or fighting for social change using, for example, petitions, demonstrations, strikes, protest art, civil disobedience, economic noncooperation, and/or boycotts (Dudouet Reference Dudouet2008; Sørensen and Johansen Reference Sørensen and Johansen2016). Many of Gandhi’s ideas and writings are used in the theorization and implementation of nonviolence (Vinthagen Reference Vinthagen2015). Gandhi promoted a principled nonviolence, emphasizing the importance of social transformation, faith, and an inseparable link between means and ends. Within the principled approach to nonviolence, violence is abandoned for ethical reasons and the opponent is ideally included in the search for win‒win solutions (Nepstad Reference Nepstad2015).

With The Politics of Non-Violent Action (Reference Service1973), Gene Sharp became one of the main theorists of nonviolent resistance, the “Clausewitz of nonviolent warfare” (Weber Reference Weber2004, 232). Sharp challenges traditional, monolithic conceptions of power, arguing that rulers are only in power due to the everyday consent of those they rule. Should this consent fall apart, so does the regime. Nonviolent resistance takes advantage of this mechanism, the protesters disobeying and challenging their oppressors in different ways. Rather than a principled nonviolence, Sharp argues for a pragmatic nonviolence, where nonviolence is pursued not because it is more ethical but because it is simply the most effective. While principled and pragmatic nonviolence differ in important ways (Bharadwaj Reference Bharadwaj1998), they also overlap (Nepstad Reference Nepstad2015). In practice, the most important distinction between principled and pragmatic nonviolence is the degree to which the opponent is also respected, mediated with, and included in considerations about future scenarios (Bramsen Reference Bramsen2019a).

Nonviolent resistance is a broad phenomenon that goes beyond anti-regime protests and may include resisting corporate globalization, opposing corruption, or compelling government action to reduce CO₂ emissions. The focus in this chapter is on protester–regime interactions, but many of the ideas and dynamics are also found in other nonviolent struggles and civil disobedience. Moreover, while most of the examples in this chapter involve public protests, with protesters facing the police in the streets, it is important to note that there is much more to nonviolent action than bodies in public places, such as strikes, boycotts, and online activism. In fact, tactical innovation and variation is an important factor in nonviolent struggles. When concentrated public protest becomes too dangerous and discourages too many people from participating, it may be strategically beneficial to shift to tactics such as strikes, boycotts, or stay-at-home demonstrations (Bramsen Reference Bramsen2019a; Schock Reference Schock2005).

The Micro-sociology of Nonviolent Resistance

Analyzing nonviolent resistance with micro-sociological lenses provides an eye for the criticality of intense, engaged rituals in mobilization as well the interactional dimension of the domination and repression exercised by the rulers they attempt to resist. Nonviolent activists and scholars traditionally envision the power structures of an authoritarian regime as a Greek temple with “a hated dictator sitting on top of the temple” (Engler and Engler Reference Engler and Engler2016, 92). In accordance with the metaphor, multiple supporting pillars uphold the temple, such as the media, army, police, business, education system, and religious institutions. The essence of the pillar-of-support model is that rulers are never almighty, always depending on the institutions and sectors supporting them. The logic of nonviolent tactics is, thus, to challenge these pillars of support by imposing costs on the different supporters of the regime (Stoner Reference Stoner2012).

Although useful, the pillars-of-support metaphor gives the impression that a regime is a relatively solid construction set in stone, where an entire pillar must collapse for a regime to fall. This book proposes a twist to the theory. Rather than a Greek temple, I suggest a musical ensemble as a metaphor for a regime. Following this metaphor for power, a regime is upheld not by pillars of support, but rather by coordination, rhythmic turn-taking, and successful interaction rituals (Bramsen Reference Bramsen2018b). As Collins (Reference Collins1988, 249) explains: “[A] coercive organization has the tightly coordinated rhythm of turn-taking (expanded from the verbal to the non-verbal rhythm of acts), with everyone coming in on the beat, no blank spaces, no overlaps/struggles to get the floor.” Part of what keeps authoritarian or occupying regimes in power is the myriad of domination interaction that occurs on an everyday basis, such as dominating treatment by the authorities behind desks in, for example, a municipality, random arrests, and rituals of worshiping those in power. Different ways of talking down to citizens, making them feel surveilled, forcing them to go through checkpoints, or endless bureaucratic measures depriving them of possibilities, hope, and self-confidence.

Following the musical ensemble metaphor, nonviolent resistance need not challenge a particular “pillar of support” but rather the rhythmic coordination and domination interaction that keeps a regime in power. A nonviolent movement can obstruct a regime’s organizational structure, communication, and rhythmic coordination by mobilizing great and diverse parts of a population in one big “organization.” Moreover, a crucial dimension of nonviolent action is its ability to destabilize and disrupt regime domination interaction. In domination interaction, parties are mutually entrained in an unequal relationship and dominant‒dominated subject positions. Nonviolence can cause domination interaction to “fail”; that is, it becomes increasingly difficult for the top dog to maintain their domination if the supposed underdog does not “play by the rules,” instead resisting or even initiating solidarity interaction rituals. Resistance comes in different forms; some actions are very visible and put tremendous pressure on the authorities, whereas other everyday forms of resistance are less visible and often more safe but can nevertheless challenge existing power structures in several ways (Johansson and Vinthagen Reference Johansson and Vinthagen2019; Scott Reference Scott1989). Demonstrations in and of themselves represent challenges to law, order, and regime control over the streets. Moreover, civil resistance, like strikes or other forms of noncooperation and nonparticipation, can be considered ways of defying domination and directly not upholding the interactions that previously made up a regime.

In this respect, nonviolence is not merely about taking away the pillars of support but also about changing the relationship by doing something different or refusing to do what previously constituted the power relationship. Rosa Parks’ “no” to moving from a seat originally reserved for white passengers perfectly illustrates this resistance to domination interaction. Refusing to take another seat, not following police orders when arrested, or resisting to go to work all represent ways of disrupting domination rituals. Tellingly, a Bahraini activist explained to me how “using nonviolence not only puts you on the moral higher ground, it also grants you control over the situation” (Interview by author 2014). In this respect, nonviolence can be seen as a deliberate attempt at taking control of the situation and initiating an alternative mode of interaction.

It is indeed very difficult for nonviolent activists to dominate the situation to the extent that they are able to change the interaction ritual, or even merely to go against the situational pressure to be dominated. In Collins’ words, changing the rhythm of interaction domination rituals requires abundant emotional energy or that which Lindner (Reference Lindner, Deutsch, Coleman and Marcus2013) coins “Mandela-like qualities.” Lindner describes a situation in which Nelson Mandela, upon landing on Robben Island on his way to jail, refused to follow the prison guards’ orders. Mandela describes the situation as follows:

In this situation, Mandela literally refused to follow the rhythm that was imposed upon him (jogging) and imposed his “own” slower walking pace. Not only did he refuse to be humiliated (Lindner’s interpretation), he also took control of the situation and disrupted the domination ritual that the guards attempted to uphold. Refusing to play neither victim nor perpetrator – thereby neither retaliating nor being submissive – can have a disarming effect.

In what follows, I will show how the success or failure of mechanisms of mobilization, repression, and nonviolent resistance can be understood from a micro-sociological perspective; and, hence, what this perspective enables us to see that is less visible with other theories.

Mobilization

In domination interactions (e.g., random arrests, micro-aggressions, surveillance, and raids), the dominant party is charged with emotional energy while the oppressed is de-energized and thus pacified. In authoritarian regimes, the population is often de-energized by fear of punishment, suspicion, and mistrust. A crucial element of mobilization and conflict escalation in an asymmetric conflict is therefore to overcome fear and energize the masses (Vinthagen Reference Vinthagen2015). Mobilization can be described as the mobilization of collective emotional energy (Collins Reference Collins2004); otherwise de-energized people come together to mobilize enough energy and solidarity among themselves to challenge the status quo. This is achieved through powerful interaction rituals, such as demonstrations and by challenging the organizational structure of a regime by making the existing power rituals become fragmented, possibly by undermining the meaning of symbols (e.g., pictures of the ruler or the national flag), or even attributing them new meanings related to the revolution (Bramsen and Poder Reference Bramsen and Poder2014).

The Arab Uprisings offer a good case in point: In many Arab countries, the regimes in power prior to 2011 sustained their power through fear. Most people did not dare to be among the first to challenge the regime by protesting on the streets (Pearlman Reference Pearlman2016). However, when Tunisian street vendor Mohamed Bouazizi set himself on fire out of indignation resulting from police treatment, the event triggered a wave of anger and sentiment of solidarity that, little by little, tore down the wall of fear (Castells Reference Castells2012). The success of the Tunisian uprising then inspired other citizens across the Arab world to overcome their fear and take to the streets. Fear was still present in the streets (Pearlman Reference Pearlman2016), at times even to a very high degree, but it was accompanied by courage, hope, and unity. These new emotions were generated through online interactions ridiculing authorities, disseminating videos of atrocities, and building relations; but most intensely, these emotions were generated in the streets through powerful interaction rituals, such as protests (Bramsen Reference Bramsen2018b, Reference Bramsen2018c; Solomon Reference Solomon2019).

Arab Spring videos reveal how many demonstrations resemble powerful interaction rituals (Videos 1‒22NV). Demonstrators march rhythmically, shout protest slogans, sing national anthems, and they raise their hand(s) rhythmically and synchronically with close body contact (often shoulder-to-shoulder). They are marked by a mutual focus of attention, such as on the leader of the demonstration guiding the songs with a megaphone, on the symbol of the uprisings (e.g., the Pearl Roundabout in Bahrain), on a monument of the dictator, or on the riot police. Moreover, there is a relatively clear barrier to outsiders: a sense of who is (not) taking part in the demonstration. This intense interaction ritual both energizes and empowers the participants together with a sense of unity and solidarity. One Syrian activist precisely described this empowering dimension of demonstrating:

This quote eloquently illustrates the insignificance of discourses in intense interactions. The central thing is not what is said, whether “freedom” or “apples and carrots,” but rather the interaction itself, with bodily copresence, rhythm, and loud chanting, together with the solidarity, energy, and empowerment that this generates.

Solomon (Reference Solomon2019) analyzes the importance of rhythm in international relations, as exemplified by the Arab Spring case. Upon studying many of the protest accounts of the uprisings, they conclude that “many expressed the visceral energy which specifically rhythmic actions of marching, chanting and singing produced and how it bolstered their commitment to the protests” (Solomon Reference Solomon2019, 20). In the nonviolence literature, the empowering effects of civil resistance have also been discussed, with Martin and Varney (Reference Martin and Varney2003, 220) arguing that empowerment “comes through the experience of participating in action against perceived injustice, which gives rise to satisfying feelings of solidarity and mutual validation.”

Energizing and De-Energizing Repression

Mobilization and protests often trigger pushback from the rulers. Paradoxically, this repression may silence protests but can lead to further mobilization and escalation. In the literature, there is no agreement on whether repression leads to mobilization or succeeds in repressing protests. Some studies show that repression fuels dissent, other studies that repression reduces dissent, while others yet have found that the relationship depends on the consistency of the repression, time, and/or visibility (Davenport 2007a; Davenport and Moore Reference Davenport and Moore2012; Lichbach Reference Lichbach1987; Martin Reference Martin2007; Tilly Reference Tilly1978). For this reason, Zimmermann (Reference Zimmermannn and Gurr1980, 181) sums up how “there are theoretical arguments for all conceivable basic relations between governmental coercion and rebellion except for no relationship.” Part of the problem is that repression is not one simple thing; it can vary in consistency, coerciveness, and tactics, and it can occur in differing contexts. In essence (and effect), I would argue that repression can take two overall forms: energizing and de-energizing repression.

Energizing Repression

First, energizing repression amounts to all kinds of visible, repressive measures that anger people and might even bring them together (e.g., for funerals or other events), which further energizes and increases the group solidarity. In many of the Arab Uprisings, funerals became central meeting points, which ended up energizing and mobilizing more demonstrators (Fattahi Reference Fattahi2012; Hinnebusch et al. Reference Hinnebusch, Imady, Zintl, Roberts, Willis, McCarthy and Ash2016). With each killing conducted by the regime, the number of protesters spiked significantly. Describing this process, one Syrian protester expressed how “killings kept going. If today five people died, tomorrow eight will die. Because every time a person dies, the number of demonstrations grew and, hence, the casualties grew as well” (Interview by author 2016). The regime repression thus backfired (Martin Reference Martin2007, Reference Martin and Schock2015) and caused further mobilization rather than reducing it. This dynamic is partly because atrocities sparked righteous anger within a group, which fueled further action (Collins Reference Collins2012), but also because killings brought people together at funerals, which then turned into intense, emotional protests. Restrictions on assembly made Friday prayers and funerals the main occasions to come together in countries like Syria. When a killing occurred, the subsequent funeral would therefore attract many people and facilitate powerful interaction rituals that would further energize actors. Funerals can be highly intense rituals. In a documentary produced by Al Jazeera, the protest funerals in Bahrain were so intense that “the intensity of grief and determination made relatives faint” (Al Jazeera Reference Jazeera2011). A similar pattern of funerals turning into a mourning‒protest cycle can be observed in the Iranian Revolution (Chenoweth and Stephan Reference Chenoweth and Stephan2011, 110). Hence, visible (e.g., in the streets or via social media) and angering repression ends up strengthening a movement and spiraling further protests (or a violent response) rather than silencing and disempowering protesters.Footnote ² This following model (Figure 4.1) illustrates this process.

Figure 4.1 Energizing spiral of nonviolent resistance

Challenging Violent Repression

Upon mobilizing against and resisting an authoritarian regime or occupying power, as described above, protesters are often met with fierce police violence in the form of teargas, water cannons, or even live rounds and snipers. A crucial question for activists therefore becomes how to challenge and potentially delimit violent repression.

Here, micro-sociological insights may be of some value. As I have shown in the chapter on violent interaction, Collins argues that violence is a situational phenomenon that only occurs under particular situational circumstances: when a perpetrator is able to dominate and/or avoid confrontation with a potential victim. Even if actors are very motivated to conduct violence, they are only able to do so under these particular situational circumstances (Collins Reference Collins2008). Hence, violence can be very difficult to conduct when there is eye contact and emotional balance (i.e., no domination). This can be useful information for activists interested in avoiding violent regime repression. Collins suggests six things for protesters to avoid to minimize the likelihood of violence: DO NOT (1) turn your back, (2) hide your face when confronted by violent threat, (3) run away in panic, (4) fall down, (5) turn away from a potential attacker once confronted, and (6) allow yourself to be separated from the herd and become a lone individual surrounded by attackers (Collins Reference Collins2014).

In my analysis of videos from demonstrations in Bahrain, Syria, and Tunisia, I find a few examples of situations where violence was (at least partly) avoided because the protesters unwittingly followed Collins’ advice. For example, the prominent Bahraini activist Maryam al-Khawaja describes a situation in which her sister, Zainab al-Khawaja, faced the police in a protest:

In an interview with The New York Times, Zainab al-Khawaja describes a similar situation in which she decided to stand her ground and not run away when the police attacked a funeral in December 2011: “[D]ozens of riot police attacked and they were coming my way and I heard the shooting on both sides of my head and I thought I was probably gonna get injured or worse, but actually I did not get shot” (The New York Times 2011). When they discover that she is a well-known activist, an officer tells the police, “not this one.” When the police cars start moving toward the protesters, Zainab stands in front of the cars and refuses to move despite the risk of being beaten or run over. None of these threats are carried out until a female police officer arrives after an hour and arrests Zainab. While there is also an order given not to shoot in this particular case, the micro-situational pattern of proud posturing and face-to-face confrontation seems vital for avoiding violence. A video-recording of this incident shows Zeinab standing in front of police cars; as a policeman approaches her from behind, she turns around calmly and faces him with her arms in the air.Footnote ³

Another video from Bahrain portrays a situation in which a protester stands in front of the riot police. Waving a copy of the Koran, the man shouts: “You criminals! You murderers! You hope to escape God’s wrath? God will avenge us! Go on, shoot me! Shoot me if you dare. I won’t leave!”.Footnote ⁴ The man throws the Koran down between his legs in anger and continues shouting, blustering, and gesticulating anger and despair, waving his arms in the air. When a riot police officer attempts to approach him, the man’s screaming intensifies, and the police officer retreats. The police officer displays signs of confusion and caution, as he looks behind to another officer, as though he is considering what to do. The other officer approaches the man and is just about to hit him with his baton, but he lowers it when the protester continues shouting and raises his arms in anger. Even when the second officer threatens and almost strikes him with his baton, the man with the Koran neither shrinks nor ducks, which would have been signs of fear. Instead, he expands his body language – feet wide apart and arms in the air (Figure 4.2). In this way, domination of the situation seems to protect the man from being attacked.

Figure 4.2 Bahraini riot police unable to dominate a situation and refrain from hitting a shouting protester

(Redrawing of three screenshots)

Challenging Domination

While maintaining a calm voice, proud body language, and eye contact with the security forces may not be “enough” to avoid being targeted or imprisoned, protesters might be able to paralyze security forces by confusing them by constructing surprise actions, leaving them not knowing how to react (Bramsen Reference Bramsen2019a). Collins (Reference Collins2004, 125) describes surprise as “an abrupt reaction to something that rapidly and severely interrupts the flow of current activity and attention.” In other words, the element of surprise can potentially disrupt an interaction ritual like violence. This relates to Serbian activist and nonviolent thinker Srdja Popovic’s concept of laughtivism, which implies funny acts that can surprise or confuse security forces. He argues that funny actions can disrupt repression, because “if you’re a cop you spend a lot of time thinking about how to deal with people who are violent. But nothing in your training prepares you for dealing with people who are funny” (Popovic and Miller Reference Popovic and Miller2015, 99).

The activists I interviewed argued that in the few cases where violence did not come about, it was because the security forces were confused and “didn’t know what to do.” One Bahraini activist reflects on the importance of confusing the riot police:

As if to exemplify this very point, three Bahraini protesters I interviewed described a situation where a young boy walked out in front of a police car and drummed on the front of the vehicle, which made it stop. What activists interpret as the security forces “not knowing how to react” can be interpreted as a way of challenging the script of domination and violence. When protesters refrain from playing into the theater of domination by neither retaliating nor giving in, they disrupt the interaction ritual of domination. In another example, Collins (Reference Collins2014, 1) describes a situation where an Indian peacemaker is under attack:

Here, the peacemaker is able to initiate a new form of interaction, a public talk, where violent action is inappropriate and neither part of the script nor the mode of interaction. Hence, violent interaction is very difficult to uphold.

Apart from “surprising” acts that can disrupt the script of domination, activists can also initiate solidarity-generating, friendly interaction as a way to disrupt domination. These actions are framed as “fraternization” (Anisin and Musil Reference Anisin and Musil2021; Ketchley Reference Ketchley2014; Martin and Varney Reference Martin and Varney2003). In line with micro-sociological thinking, Ketchley (Reference Ketchley2014, 159) argues that such types of performances make “claims on regime agents through stimulating feelings of solidarity and comes to figure as an interaction ritual.” Giving flowers to security forces, kissing or hugging them, talking in a calm and friendly manner, or providing water are other examples. Ketchley (Reference Ketchley2014) analyzes the Egyptian Arab Spring and suggests that fraternizing acts were a central component in how the activists won the sympathy and support of the army. He describes a situation where protesters moved toward the security forces but where

Ketchley (Reference Ketchley2014, 162) argues that such fraternizing performances limit “the opportunities for violence to break out,” again because the performance of violent attacks requires another type of subject positioning of the actors involved and another dynamic. Hence, acts of fraternization and transferring of socioemotional credit can potentially challenge the script of domination and violence. However, this may not always be possible. During the 2011 uprising in Bahrain, activists’ attempts at approaching the riot police in a friendly manner were sometimes impeded by the fact that many of the Bahraini security forces are of a different nationality, often speaking, for example, Urdu instead of Arabic (Bramsen Reference Bramsen2018c).

As described in Chapter 1 and shown in the context of violence in Chapter 3, the foundational logic of micro-sociality makes it difficult not to return a smile with a smile or an attack with an attack, especially when in close physical proximity with others. Nonviolent resistance can take advantage of this micro-social logic, making it difficult for authorities to return a friendly gesture with violence and domination.

Small acts of surprise, resistance, or fraternization may seem insignificant, especially in cases where they might not even stop the acts of violence or domination in the actual situation. However, even small acts of resistance may have a profound effect on the overall ruled‒ruler relationship. Image 4.1 shows a Bahraini activist, Zainab al-Khawaja, being arrested (Image 4.1). The picture depicts Zainab shouting powerfully while raising her clenched fist to symbolize resistance and freedom. In contrast, the police officers arresting her look uncomfortable with the situation: lips clenched and eyes downcast.

Image 4.1 Zainab al-Khawaja resisting arrest

(Photo by Mazen Mahdi)

Despite the performance of resistance, Zainab al-Khawaja is arrested and imprisoned. Hence, one might argue that there are limits to micro-sociological dynamics occurring in situations as opposed to the orders and structures shaping a society. However, I would argue that even as Zainab is imprisoned, her acts of resistance and, importantly, the sharing of the pictures hereof offer powerful ways of destabilizing acts of domination. Little by little, this can challenge everyday suppression and domination and, with enough de-stabilizing actions, challenge the very organizational structure and rhythmic coordination of the regime. As I will show in the following, however, this depends on the overall ability of a protest movement to remain united, to gather support from a silent majority, and to escalate at a time of high momentum.

Winning a Battle

While nonviolent resistance can challenge dominant interaction and potentially the coordination and internal unity that keeps an authoritarian regime together, a regime can also challenge a movement’s solidarity: “keep momentum on its own side by making sure no bandwagon gets going among the opposition” (Collins Reference Collins2013, 1) and quash an uprising. The success or failure of nonviolence can be explained by the ability of the succeeding party to break down the unity and organization of the opponent and dominate the situation. In wars, Collins (Reference Collins1988, 249) argues, the crucial factor determining the outcome of a battle is not the respective material capacity of each army, but rather their organizational structure; that is, the tight coordination and rhythmic turn-taking of acts and communication with “everyone coming in on the beat.” Actors “win” by making the organizational structure of their counterpart fall apart and by maintaining their own (Collins Reference Collins1988). Likewise, in nonviolent battles, the party that maintains unity and is able to dominate the situation will determine the outcome.

Activists can dominate the situation with presence in the streets, loud slogans, and high-energy demonstrations. When activists dominate the situation, they set the agenda and dictate the rhythm of interaction, forcing the regime to react to their actions more than vice versa (Walby and Spencer Reference Walby and Spencer2010). For protesters to dominate a situation and challenge a regime, as many nonviolent theorists have emphasized, unity and solidarity are crucial ingredients of nonviolent success. Sharp (Reference Sharp2013, 97) states that unity can be created through “[m]ass meetings, marches, songs, parades and wearing of symbols of unity,” which corresponds to Collins’ theory of solidarity-generating interaction rituals.

Comparisons of the uprisings in Bahrain and Tunisia illustrate the importance of unity. In Tunisia, protesters managed to unite otherwise separate groups of youth, lawyers, students, and labor unions in both town and country, thereby generating the temporary collective consciousness, solidarity, and momentum needed to overthrow a regime by challenging not only its pillars of support and legitimacy but also the energizing interaction rituals and trust holding the regime together. Throughout the revolution, the collective consciousness and momentum grew, as the killing of demonstrators and intense protest gatherings kept energizing the movement.

Interviewees described how “there was a sense of unity that was incredible; the entire country felt like we are one, like it’s one ship. If parts of it sinks, the other parts will sink too” (Interview by author 2015). Even the silent majority apparently felt part of the movement. Several times in the process of finding interviewees, I met people who claimed to have taken part in the revolution but who did not take to the streets before Ben Ali had fled the country. Although not participating in demonstrations, they felt “part of” the revolution. While this unity has been ascribed to the relatively homogeneous nature of Tunisian society, one informant pointed out how this unity was not expected and should not be taken for granted (Interview by author, 2015). Both leading up to and following the 2011 revolution, Tunisia has been marked by rich‒poor and rural‒urban divides, some rural areas feeling very disconnected from the capital (almost literally due to poor infrastructure). Despite differences in aims and status, lawyer unions, labor unions, student unions, and rich and poor united to demand regime change.

In revolutions, “individuals ‘decide’ which coalition they will give a show of support to, insurgent or status quo, not so much by calculation of costs and benefits (which is impossible at this point of extreme insecurity), but by collective emotional flow” (Collins Reference Collins, Goodwin, Jasper and Polletta2001, 41). Likewise, in Tunisia, interlocutors describe how they joined the movement due to anger over the killings as well as a sense of “being one” society against the regime. This unity and solidarity is necessary for a successful regime overthrow.

While the movement developed a sense of unity among different groups, the regime suffered from division and miscommunication, which eventually led Ben Ali to flee the country. On January 13‒14, 2011, several properties owned by Ben Ali’s family were destroyed and, due to the deteriorating security situation, his family decided to leave the country temporarily. Upon hearing that Ben Ali’s family was about to leave, eleven men from the anti-terror unit led by Lieutenant Samir Tarhouni went to the airport and held back twenty-eight family members, refusing their departure. Four other elite security force units later joined the defection in the airport. After a few hours of negotiations, they were released. At the last minute, Ben Ali decided to follow his family to Saudi Arabia, apparently thinking that he would return the same day (Jebnoun Reference Jebnoun2014). The decision to leave the country was “improvised, unexpected and took many senior security officers by surprise” (Jebnoun Reference Jebnoun2014, 296). Ammar, the head of the armed forces, claimed that he was misinformed about several things, including the departure of the president, apparently because Ben Ali at this point lacked faith in the army. Pachon (Reference Pachon2014, 508) therefore ascribes the eventual overthrow of Ben Ali to the “[d]ysfunctional intra-regime dynamics” and “miscommunication between representatives from different bodies in the security establishment.”

The momentum and unity that were built up over weeks in Tunisia were achieved within a few days in Bahrain. The successful uprisings in Tunisia and Egypt inspired Bahraini activists and provided them with new energy and tactics for how to occupy central squares and topple a regime (Bramsen Reference Bramsen2018b, Reference Bramsen2018c). The first calls to demonstrations mobilized around 6,000 people, but the protests grew in number and determination when the killing of demonstrators resulted in funerals that became massive protest marches.

Inspired by the occupation of Tahrir Square in Egypt, the Bahraini protesters occupied the Pearl Roundabout. The occupation was brutally attacked during the night between February 16 and 17. Rather than scaring the protesters away, however, this increased the number of participants subsequently. The regime’s initial attempt at cracking down on the revolutionary momentum when it was at its highest, failed due to the high degree of momentum and unity of the protest movement.

Both Shia and Sunni Muslims participated in the uprising (even though the majority remained Shia, which reflects the demography). Demonstrators initially were at pains to emphasize their group solidarity, using banners, slogans, and social media updates to declare Shia‒Sunni unity, as one activist describes: “We were repeating day by day that Sunni and Shia are brothers” (Interview by author 2015). Several of the participants describe the first days at the Pearl Roundabout as characterized by anti-sectarian coexistence. One activist commented how “there was a warm, non-judgmental welcome for you whoever you were, Sunni or Shia, Islamist or liberal, secularist, leftist or communist, or simply a visitor from abroad” (Aldairy Reference Aldairy, Cassel and Al-Zubaidi2013, 154).

The Pearl Roundabout occupation enabled daily successful interaction rituals with physical assembly, rhythmic chanting, and shared food that generated and increased solidarity among the participants. The gathering was somewhat reminiscent of a festival, with an atmosphere of euphoria and happiness in which participants prepared food for one another and artists performed.

However, it is very difficult for a nonviolent movement to maintain momentum and solidarity due to the decay of group unity and solidarity over time. Collins (Reference Collins2012, 13) argues that “solidarity over time has the shape of a fireworks rocket: very rapid ascent, a lengthy plateau and a slow dissipation.” In a study of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, he shows how emotional energy and solidarity tend to decay or transform over time unless recharged by new events and atrocities. Likewise, the Arab Spring in Bahrain illustrates how regime strategies over time can challenge the momentum of the movement.

After the protesters were able to reoccupy the Pearl Roundabout in March 2011, the Bahraini regime changed tactics and avoided killing protesters and interfering in the demonstrations. In the absence of overt conflict with the Bahraini regime, there was less of an outside enemy consolidating the movement in righteous anger. This gave rise to increasing divisions between revolutionaries wanting to overthrow the regime and reformists aiming merely for systemic reform. As explained by one activist:

Several activists and young revolutionaries were filled with hope after seeing the regime change in Egypt and Tunisia. One informant described how “everyone was happy, optimistic, believing that we were very close to get our aspiration, our freedom, dignity and so on” (Interview by author 2015). Others, especially the greatest opposition party, Al-Wefaq, did not share this optimism. As their spokesperson argued: “We know the severity of the situation in Bahrain: the demography, the Sunni‒Shia issue, the regional context with the Saudi, the other GCC [Gulf Cooperation Council] regimes” (Interview by author 2015). They therefore worked for slow reforms rather than revolution.

This led to a divided escalation, where reformists continued occupying the Pearl Roundabout, whereas more revolutionary forces escalated further and expanded the demonstration to the financial district. As described by an activist, “that’s what people thought was necessary for escalation in 2011. We’re here in the Pearl Square, the government is quiet about it so far. ‘We need to escalate—we need to get things to move’” (Interview by author 2014). Arguing the opposite, an Al-Wefaq spokesperson stated how “such escalation, demands to overthrow the regime and the call for a republic—the demonstration near the palace and the blockage of the financial harbor, this won’t be tolerated” (Interview by author 2015).

Conflict produces in-group solidarity and energizes actors to act. By refraining from attacking protesters in the streets, the Bahraini government thereby also refrained from energizing the protesters by creating conflict.Footnote ⁵ Moreover, when the government in later stages began imprisoning and torturing activists, it did not have a re-energizing effect; in fact, it de-energized the activists. Although torture in prison, as documented by human rights organizations, might be equally violent as killing and attacking protesters in the streets, it does not have comparable mobilizing effects as described in the section on de-energizing repression. Momentum is crucial for the outcome of conflict. Had the regime continued to repress protesters as they gathered in hundreds of thousands and occupied the center of the capital, and had the movement thus been able to maintain unity despite differences, the outcome might have been very different. The Bahraini and Tunisian cases illustrate the importance of maintaining unity and momentum in a nonviolent uprising and how a regime can be toppled if its organizational structure is challenged.

Long-Term Change through Nonviolent Resistance

As unfolded in this chapter, nonviolent resistance campaigns can often succeed through tipping-point revolutions, where the rhythm and coordination of a regime is challenged to the extent that it collapses; that is, the musical ensemble falls apart. After a successful nonviolent uprising, it is critical that the revolution is followed up by consistent pressure. This was the case when the Tunisian protesters continued to take to the streets after ousting Ben Ali in 2011 (Murphy Reference Murphy2011) and when the Women of Liberia Mass Action for Peace kept protesting after they succeeded in getting the warring parties to come to the negotiation table and subsequently sign a peace agreement in 2003 (Gbowee Reference Gbowee2009). To ensure long-term change, it remains a big challenge for nonviolent resistance movements to maintain pressure and to change societal practices after, for example, having ousted a dictator.

Besides more abrupt change and action like revolutions, nonviolent resistance can also succeed through more long-term efforts of slowly but steadily challenging practices of domination. This can be seen in the women’s movement. Throughout history, women have shown that coming together in small but powerful groups where you practice new forms of subjectivity and resist domination at home as well as in cultural and political arenas can challenge patriarchal structures. This was the case in the early 1900s in Scandinavia, where several women and women’s groups began resisting male domination to the extent that they were granted the right to vote (Alfort Reference Alfort2022). Again in the 1970s, women gained momentum in their fight for equal rights and equal worth vis-à-vis men in Scandinavia. This implied challenging domination in particular situations but also experimenting with new forms of interaction. In the words of Ipsen (Reference Ipsen2020, 1), Danish women in the 1970s “started doing something new.” For example, a months-long, women-only summer camp was started on an island. Here, they supported each other and practiced new ways of being together and relating to each other. Among other things, they would walk around naked to resist the objectification to which they had previously been subjected. Yet again in 2017, the #MeToo movement united women against sexism and different kinds of sexual domination and succeeded in empowering women to not put up with micro-moments of domination (Jaffe Reference Jaffe2018). As this brief history of female resistance illustrates, people doing things differently and resisting domination can help to establish momentum (often in different waves) and change unjust interactional structures little by little.

Conclusion

From a micro-sociological perspective, nonviolent protests offer ways of energizing otherwise de-energized populations through powerful interaction rituals, often centered on new nodal points. These strengthen the solidarity among the protesters and help them to overcome fear and anxiety. For activists to overcome a regime (or for any party to win a conflict, really), domination of the opponent is necessary. The party maintaining unity, tight coordination, and solidarity will win a conflict, whereas the party suffering from lack of cohesion and unity will lose. In Tunisia, for example, protesters were able to maintain unity, whereas the regime suffered organizational breakdown. Conversely, Bahraini protesters attempted to escalate the conflict at a time of both decreasing momentum and increasing factions within the movement and were therefore ultimately repressed. Lastly, in Syria, neither revolutionaries nor the regime was able to maintain unity and dominate the situation, and thus the situation escalated into a civil war.

Concerning insights about avoiding violence, data from Bahrain shows situations where protesters displayed powerful body language, eye contact, and/or shouting without being targeted, hence supporting the micro-sociological argument that violence is facilitated by emotional domination and/or distance to the victim. However, another situation from Bahrain shows how relatively easy situations can be manipulated for violence to take place despite eye contact and dignified action. Rather than the eye contact or proud body language, the element of surprise and uncommon, powerful actions seem to be a game changer in potentially violent situation, as it disrupts the very nature of the interaction. Moreover, even in situations where violence or arrests take place despite resistance, numerous acts of resistance and the documentation and dissemination thereof can contribute to challenging the power and coordination of a regime or occupier.