Photo: Richard Z. Chesnoff
Visiting Muammar Qaddafi’s Libya was always like dropping into “Abdul in Wonderland.”Marketplaces were jammed with shops but empty of goods. Enormous signboards bore the illogical slogans of the even more illogical Green Book, the bible of Qaddafi’s Jamahiriya – state of the masses.
Walls were plastered with enormous posters of “The Leader” wearing everything from gold embroidered imperial military uniforms to Arab ghalabiyas to outfits totally incongruous for a harsh desert land: designer ski suits.
It was all more than slightly mad. Once when I drove by car from the Tunisian border to the Libyan capital city of Tripoli, I noticed that all the direction signs on Libya’s main coastal highway had been completely blacked out: “It’s to confuse the enemy,” my Libyan escort explained.
Still nothing was weirder than going to see the Leader himself.
My first visit to Qaddafi was in October 1986, just a few months after US warplanes had bombed Tripoli in punishment for a Libyan terrorist bombing of US troops in Germany. It was to be Qaddafi’s first interview with an American newsman since the attack and had been arranged by the Libyan ambassador in Paris — my then base for US News & World Report. Yet when I flew into Tripoli, I was immediately ordered confined to my hotel — and not allowed out. “The Leader may summon us at any moment,” my Libyan minder explained.
Over the next eight days, there was little to do but take part in what fellow journalist Ruth Marshall once jokingly called “the bar scene from Star Wars” — the nightly gathering in the lobby of the posh Al Kabir Hotel of assorted businessmen, foreign advisers and terrorists of all stripes: IRA, Palestinian, Basque. “Everyone’s waiting to see Qaddafi,” explained a Damascus-based Kurdish rebel leader, who like the rest of his fellow militants patiently awaited a chance to see Libya’s chief cash-cow.
Finally, on the ninth night, I was given five minutes notice, then driven at high speed to the Presidential Palace – or what was left of it. The US Air Force had made Qaddafi’s home a special target during its April raid. Now Qaddafi insisted we do our interview seated midst the shattered glass, marble and other rubble that littered the bombed out palace: “I want you to see what the US president tried to do to me, how Reagan tried to kill me.”
Qaddafi was still young then, still trim and ruggedly handsome without the puffiness and scraggy appearance that marks him of late. He was engaging — if illogical. Secretary of State George Schultz, he insisted, was “really an Israeli.” Ronald Reagan “should be tried as a killer and a murderer and a madman. ” Qaddafi’s ultimate goal was to unite all the Arab nations. “Arab unity is a unification of Arab countries into states like the United States. This is the role I am playing — a mixture of the roles of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln.”
He then took me to see what was left of the presidential bedroom where he said “Reagan thought I was sleeping” (he wasn’t). Velvet paintings of lions adorned the wall, his round maroon bed featured a headboard that carried an enormous photo montage of the surf at Big Sur.
Just before I left he suddenly told me that Fidel Castro had become a Communist “under American pressure… I am not a Communist, but I might be obliged — just to nag America — to become a Communist out of spite.”
We didn’t meet again until 1994. This time he received me at his heavily guarded Bedouin tent encampment on the western outskirts of Tripoli. The Leader was practicing soccer with some of his guards (male ones) when I arrived. The game over, Qaddafi, still looking trim and fit, strode into his colourful tent. He looked well. While a charcoal bonfire crackled outside, he told me how grateful he was to me for my previous interview. “Unlike a lot of journalists,” he said. “You quoted my words just as I said them.”
He said he was optimistic about relations with Bill Clinton. Then the Leader continued with his usual rantings — finally telling me that his rule over Libya had “laid down the threshold of the era of the masses. We have created a ‘Great Man-Made River’… a new wonder to be added to the wonders of the world. [But the real] revolution starts now. We will lead the world toward a new era, eliminating armies and bringing an end to the evils of traditional governments, parties and classes. In their place we will establish a jamahiriya, a state of the masses. Then and only then will a lasting peace be realised.”
Tragically for Libya, it’s nowhere near.
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