Tunisia’s legislative elections take place this coming Sunday, the first under the new constitution that was adopted following the 2011 revolution.

Most people I’ve talked to expect that what follows will be a coalition government of the largest secular and Islamist parties, accompanied by the usual horse-trading for cabinet posts and the perquisites of power. This outcome is variously viewed as:

a) a cynical sell-out of political principles by the parties involved,

b) a pragmatic and desirable result in a region where is can be dangerous to exclude either the religious or the secular parties from power,

c) a good excuse not to vote,

d) an authentic democratic expression of the popular will,

d) a mere rearranging of the deck chairs on the sinking ship of Arab democracy,

e) an historical echo of the unity politics of the United States immediately following the adoption of the 1789 constitution, or

f) a hopeful rebuttal to those who believe that Arab culture is incompatible with democracy.

Or any combination of the above.

I’ve seen things that make me hopeful about the establishment of democracy here. Foremost is a deeply-ingrained and pervasive disputatiousness and a willingness to speak out. When I do something in my classroom that students perceive as unfair, I hear about it. At great length and volume. Their respect for me as their teacher does not prevent them from challenging me. I see this same dynamic between employers and employees, between neighbors, and among people engaged in political discussions. Sometimes the Tunisian love of dispute produces histrionics, but I can forgive that since I understand how strong the fundamental instinct for challenging authority and ideas is. It seems to me like the kind of soil that democracy could take root in.

The Tunisian people are well-educated. Maybe because Tunisia is a small country, they know a fair amount about international politics. True, this knowledge has some blind spots and failings. There is a love of conspiracy theories that arrange the chance events of the day into grand cabals. There is an obsession with the plight of the Palestinians that’s nurtured by the media, distracts people from conditions here in Tunisia, and almost seems to be a kind of good-guys-versus-bad-guys entertainment. But even so, I am pleasantly surprised almost every day by the number of college graduates I meet, by the number of languages people speak, and by the widespread knowledge of the applied social sciences of management and business. The universities in some Arab countries turn out Islamic studies majors by the hundreds; I have yet to meet such a student here. If education is the rain that’s needed for democracy’s growth, then this is a wet climate.

Tunisia is not a country that is pulled apart by deep religious differences. This is a Sunni Muslim nation; the religious divides that rend countries like Iraq and Lebanon don’t exist here. What’s more, Tunisians seem to think of themselves as one people, one culture. I had a discussion recently with a student about subcultures, which he said did not exist in Tunisian society. “What about the Berbers?” I asked. “We’re all Berbers,” he replied. While that statement is not at all accurate from an ethnographic point of view, it does convey the sense of cultural unity that Tunisians feel. A monoculture isn’t necessary for democracy’s growth, but I suspect it makes it easier, especially during the early years of its establishment.

There are, however, two factors that may make it difficult for Tunisian democracy to flourish.

First among these is a moribund and isolated economy that is stifled by red tape. While there are, as noted above, a number of well-educated people here, they can’t get jobs. We Americans sell the idea that education is the ticket to employment, but that just isn’t true in Tunisia. Unemployment is high. In my two and a half months here, I have yet to see a new business open. Those who are employed often work for shockingly low wages. People complain that everything costs more since the revolution. The bureaucratic rigmarole involved in the simplest of economic processes—starting a business, renting an apartment, or building out unfinished office space—is daunting. And with the red tape comes corruption, since many authorities have the power to block business ventures unless the proper palms are greased. Unless a new Tunisian democratic regime can turn the economy around, I fear for its survival.

I also fear that Tunisia’s experiment in democracy will be undermined by powerful external forces. Tunisia is small, a country geographically the size of Wisconsin and demographically the size of Ohio. There are larger, richer, and stronger forces in the world that presumably do not want a homegrown democracy established in the Arab world: the oil kingdoms of the Persian Gulf, and radical Islamist groups such as ISIS and al-Qaeda, to name two.

I’m not going to go out on a prognosticatorial limb and predict how things will shake out. I’ve developed a fondness for the Tunisian people, though, and hope that Sunday’s election goes peacefully and marks the start of a new era in Tunisian governance.