Libya I: Every Time Someone Praises Gaddafi, I Tell Them This (Feat. Mohammed Al Shames)

Introduction

Every time someone praises Gaddafi, I start my argument by telling them Mummar Gaddafi killed my father. Now, their silence after that is usually quite loud and allows me to dive into more logical arguments. Now, I don’t deny the fact that Gaddafi was a genius political figure; maybe a little too ambitious. However, the atrocities and horrors he brought upon his own people as a result of his ambition and power abuse are usually unknown to those living outside Libya. Since the 14th anniversary of the Libyan revolution was just last month, I’m writing this blog post, with the collaboration of my all-time favorite debater, Mohammed Al Shames, to dive into more details of Gaddafi’s rise to power, Libyans under his rule, and his fall during the revolution; and Mohammed and I will do a little trauma dumping at the end about our experiences during the revolution.

El Gaddafi: A Persona, the 1969 Coup, and His Rise to Power

Muammar Gaddafi was born into a family of desert nomads. His family were Berbers, and their history was deeply marked by Libya’s struggle against colonial rule. One of his grandfathers had been killed by the Italian invaders, while his father and uncle were imprisoned for resisting them. From an early age, Gaddafi learned to hate Europeans.

By the age of ten, his teachers recognized his intelligence. He quickly rose to the top of his class and was promoted swiftly. One of his early fascinations was the radio. He would listen for hours, often going without food just so he could buy new batteries. Through The Voice of the Arabs, a program broadcast from Egypt, Gaddafi listened to President Gamal Abdel Nasser, who became his hero and greatest influence.

While attending high school in Sabha, Gaddafi began recruiting secret cells of students with the goal of overthrowing the Libyan monarchy. When the plan was leaked, he was expelled. Undeterred, he enrolled in another school, graduated with honors, and entered the University of Libya, where he continued plotting against the king. After earning a degree in law, he joined the army and steadily recruited more followers. By August 1969, he was acting adjutant of the Libyan Signal Corps, with most of Libya’s 7,000-strong army already sympathetic to the revolutionary cause.

On the morning of September 1, 1969, while King Idris was away in Turkey, a group of Libyan army officers seized the state palace in Tripoli in a bloodless coup. A few hours later, Gaddafi took over a radio station in Benghazi and announced the news to the Libyan people: the monarchy had been abolished and replaced by a republic. Various factions in the military had been waiting for an opportunity to seize power, but Gaddafi’s group acted first, ensuring their control.

King Idris expected Britain or the United States to restore him to the throne, but neither country wanted to risk regional instability. Shortly after, Idris abdicated in favor of his son, Crown Prince Hassan al-Reda, who was immediately arrested. Under pressure, the prince publicly urged Libyans to support the new regime. With no path back to power, Idris fled into exile in Egypt, where he lived until his death in 1983.

In an interview with an Egyptian editor, Gaddafi expressed his hope that Nasser would take over Libya, as he deeply admired the Egyptian leader. When that did not happen, Gaddafi promoted himself to colonel and was automatically accepted as chairman of the new government. At just 27 years old, he became the ruler of Libya. His main goals quickly became apparent: to unify the Arab world and to establish a Libyan socialist republic based on Islamic law.

First-Hand Stories: Libyans Under His Rule

In this section, I will explain how Gaddafi established and maintained his rule, what life in Libya was like under his regime, and his foreign policy—why Africans and Arabs, especially Palestinians, admire him, while Westerners despise him.

According to the Netflix show How to Be a Tyrant, which breaks down different strategies dictators have used to establish and sustain their rule, Gaddafi’s strategy was to create a new society. The first step was to gain the love of the people by providing something they desperately needed. For Libya, that was water. Gaddafi launched the Great Man-Made River, bringing water from deep underground reserves in the Sahara to Libya’s cities and farmlands. It was a monumental project, but it had a lifespan of only 100 years before breaking down—a problem that wouldn’t affect him personally as long as it didn’t collapse during his rule.

He then sought to reshape society through his own political ideology, introducing a new system of government that he called the Third International Theory. This was outlined in his draining and convoluted Green Book—officially titled Green Book: The Solution to the Problem of Democracy. In it, he outlined his so-called "final solution" to governance, broken down into three main principles:

1. The solution to the problems of democracy is to give authority to the people. According to Gaddafi, democracy was not government but the formation of committees everywhere, where the people supervised themselves instead of being ruled.

2. The solution to economic problems is socialism. He argued that people should be "partners, not wage workers", meaning they should control their workplaces and own their homes rather than working for private employers.

3. The solution to social problems is the Third Universal Theory. This emphasized family and tribal unity, defined the role of women as slightly inferior to men, primarily to marry and bear children, promoted protection of minorities, and included his strange claim that Black Africans would "prevail in the world".

Gaddafi claimed that these theories would steer Libya away from the evils of Western democracy with its free-market capitalism and Marxist communism with its all-powerful politburo. In reality, his Jamahiriya system ("State of the Masses") was a dictatorship disguised as a direct democracy. While the Green Book preached people's authority, in practice, all decisions were concentrated in Gaddafi’s hands.

Making Libya Self-Sufficient

One of Gaddafi’s major ambitions was to make Libya self-sufficient, particularly in food production. He wanted Libya to rely less on imports, presenting this as a way to free the country from Western economic influence. His vision of self-sufficiency was heavily promoted in state propaganda, where Libya was depicted as a nation that could thrive independently, growing its own food, manufacturing its own goods, and becoming completely economically autonomous.

However, the reality was far different. Despite Libya’s oil wealth, it was not an agricultural country. Most of its land is desert, with only a small percentage suitable for farming. The push for self-sufficiency often led to shortages, rationing, and poor-quality produce, making life difficult for ordinary Libyans.

For many families, including my mother’s, the struggle for food during Gaddafi’s rule left lasting memories. When they finally left Libya and arrived in Egypt, my mom’s younger brother saw a bowl of bright red tomatoes sitting on a table. Having spent so much time in Libya where fresh fruit was scarce, he mistook them for apples—a fruit he had barely seen in years. Overjoyed, he ran to the bowl and started eating them with passion, savoring each bite as if he had just found the sweetest treat in the world. It was only after a few moments that he realized they weren’t apples at all—but he kept eating anyway, because fresh produce was a rare luxury in Libya.

Another time, my mom’s aunt was pregnant and craving bananas. Back then, bananas were nearly impossible to find in Libya, as the country’s self-sufficiency efforts had failed to produce many tropical fruits, and imports were limited. When her husband, who was in the military, had to travel by boat, she begged him to bring her bananas from abroad. After days at sea, he finally returned—bringing her bananas that had completely rotted on the long journey. But her craving was so strong, and bananas were such a precious commodity, that she ate them ruined.

Fear and Forced Loyalty

Muammar Gaddafi ruled Libya through a combination of brutal oppression and staged support, using fear to silence opposition while crafting an illusion of public devotion. Many who “supported” him did so out of necessity, not belief—because opposition often meant torture, imprisonment, or death.

The 7th of April: A National Holiday of Terror

One of the most chilling symbols of Gaddafi’s repression was April 7th, a date he turned into a national holiday of terror. Instead of celebrating unity or independence, April 7th became the day of public executions, broadcast on state television, where university students and intellectuals who dared to oppose him were dragged out, tortured, and hanged in front of crowds.

This brutal tradition began in 1976 when a wave of student protests broke out in Benghazi and Tripoli universities. Inspired by movements against totalitarian regimes elsewhere, Libyan students demanded academic freedom, political rights, and an end to Gaddafi’s oppression. Instead of negotiating, Gaddafi responded with violence. Security forces stormed university campuses, arresting students and activists. Public executions were carried out as warnings, with cameras rolling to send a message: Opposing Gaddafi meant death.

This wasn’t just a political purge—it was psychological warfare. Watching their classmates or colleagues be strung up in university courtyards forced people into silence. Fear became a stronger tool than any law or army.

My Uncle’s Arrest: How a Portrait Led to Four Years in Prison

Gaddafi’s obsession with controlling public opinion was so extreme that even the smallest acts of defiance were met with severe punishment. My uncle was one of many Libyans who learned this firsthand. One day, at his university, he sprayed a portrait of Gaddafi—not as an act of resistance, but as something completely harmless. Someone reported him, and soon after, he was arrested and thrown in prison. He spent four years in jail for what should have been a meaningless act.

This was the kind of paranoia that defined Gaddafi’s Libya—where even drawing his face in the wrong way could land someone in a cell for years.

Gaddafi’s Betrayal of Women: From Fake Support to Systematic Abuse

In The Green Book, Gaddafi positioned himself as a champion of women’s rights. He claimed to support gender equality, portraying Libya as a nation where women had the same opportunities as men. But in reality, his "support" for women was a complete lie—one of the biggest hypocrisies of his rule.

The Amazonian Guard: Propaganda Disguised as Protection

One of the most well-known images of Gaddafi’s rule was his female bodyguards, known as the Amazonian Guard. Dressed in military uniforms and carrying weapons, they were presented as symbols of women’s empowerment in Libya. Gaddafi claimed they were fierce warriors and that they were proof of his commitment to gender equality. But many of them later revealed they were forced into their roles, subjected to abuse, and had no real choice.

Many of these bodyguards were later found to be victims of sexual violence, handpicked by Gaddafi and forced to serve him in more ways than one. Some were raped, humiliated, and psychologically broken, yet they had to continue their public role as loyal protectors.

The High School Visits: A Predator in Disguise

While he presented himself as a leader who uplifted women, his true face was exposed in the way he preyed on young girls. Gaddafi frequently visited high schools, where students were lined up to greet him. He would point at certain girls, and later, his security would escort them out of school—never to return. These girls were taken to his underground chambers, where they were abused, drugged, and imprisoned for years.

Gaddafi didn’t just abuse power politically—he systematically used it to commit sexual crimes. Deep within his Bab al-Aziziya compound, a secret basement housed young women who were kidnapped and kept as sex slaves. Many of them were teenagers, taken from their schools or even from their families under false pretenses. Some never saw the outside world again.

His crimes were well-known within the inner circles of his regime, but no one dared to speak out—not because they didn’t know, but because they knew what would happen if they did.

Gaddafi’s Overambition: The Arab Nation and the African Union

Muammar Gaddafi was not just a dictator—he was a man driven by grand, often unrealistic ambitions. He saw himself as more than the leader of Libya; he believed he was destined to reshape the Arab world and Africa, positioning himself as the supreme leader of a united empire. His obsession with these two causes—Arab unity and African unity—shaped many of his policies, led to his tense relationships with neighboring countries, and drained Libya’s wealth in pursuit of a vision that never materialized.

“The Arab Nation: Failed Brotherhood and Growing Isolation”

From the moment he took power in 1969, Gaddafi saw himself as the heir to Gamal Abdel Nasser, the Egyptian leader who championed pan-Arabism—the idea that all Arab nations should unite into a single, powerful state. Gaddafi’s dream was to lead this Arab superstate, but his arrogance, erratic behavior, and constant political interference made him more of a problem than a leader.

Between the 1970s and 1990s, Gaddafi pushed for unity with several Arab countries, but each attempt failed miserably.

-       He tried to merge Libya with Egypt and Syria in 1972 under the Federation of Arab Republics, but Egyptian President Anwar Sadat and Syrian President Hafez al-Assad quickly lost patience with him.

-       He attempted to unite with Tunisia in 1974, but the Tunisian president, Habib Bourguiba, called him insane and abandoned the deal.

-       He proposed various alliances with Iraq, Sudan, Morocco, and Algeria, but his unpredictability made it impossible for other Arab leaders to trust him.

Instead of unifying the Arab world, Gaddafi alienated nearly every Arab leader. He became known for insulting and undermining them, often in public speeches.

One of Gaddafi’s longest-running feuds was with the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC), the bloc of oil-rich Arab states led by Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Qatar. He saw the Gulf monarchies as Western puppets, accusing them of selling out the Arab world to the United States.

His relationship with the GCC turned hostile when the Arab Spring reached Libya in 2011. Qatar openly supported the Libyan revolution, funding and arming the rebels who fought against his rule. Gaddafi was furious. He went on television, directly threatening Qatar, calling its leaders traitors and warning that they would “face the same fate as Libya”.

One of the most shocking allegations against Gaddafi was the claimed Libyan-driven plot to assassinate all GCC leaders during a summit. Though the exact details remain unclear, intelligence reports suggested that Libyan agents were involved in planning an attack on a GCC meeting, intending to eliminate multiple Gulf rulers in one strike. Whether or not this was fully orchestrated, the rumor deepened his isolation among Arab nations and justified the GCC’s push to support his overthrow in 2011.

By the time of his fall, Gaddafi had no allies left in the Arab world. The same nations he once tried to unify had turned against him, ensuring that no one came to his rescue when NATO-backed rebels captured and killed him in 2011.

“The African Union: Gaddafi’s Unfinished Empire”

After being rejected by the Arab world, Gaddafi shifted his ambitions to Africa, where he saw an opportunity to become the undisputed leader of the continent. He poured billions of dollars into Africa, funding rebellions, bribing governments, and attempting to create a United States of Africa under his control.

Gaddafi’s dream of African unity was much more than just an idea—he actively worked to create it. His plans included:

-       A Single African Currency: He wanted to replace the US dollar and Euro in African trade with a single currency based on gold. This was known as the Gold Dinar, which he believed would make Africa economically independent from the West.

-       A Unified African Military: He proposed a continental army, where African nations would merge their military forces under a single command, with Libya as the headquarters.

-       An African Central Bank: He envisioned an African financial system that would rival the IMF and World Bank, with Libya at the center of Africa’s financial power.

Gaddafi invested billions of dollars into pushing these ideas forward, hosting lavish African Union summits, where he tried to convince other African leaders to pledge loyalty to his vision. Some saw him as a savior, while others saw him as a reckless tyrant trying to buy influence.

While Gaddafi’s African projects were framed as a noble vision for unity, in reality, they came at a devastating cost to Libya. He sent thousands of Libyan soldiers and mercenaries to fight in foreign wars that had nothing to do with Libya. Libyan fighters were deployed in Chad, Uganda, Liberia, and Sierra Leone, often dying for causes they barely understood. In Chad alone, over 7,000 Libyan soldiers were killed in a war that ultimately ended in defeat for Libya. He spent over $30 billion funding African rebellions and propping up corrupt regimes, money that could have been used to develop Libya.

Despite his efforts, Gaddafi never achieved his African empire. While he gained influence, he never got full support for his plans. Many African leaders took his money but never fully trusted him. His dream of an African currency died with him, and after his fall, many African countries turned their backs on Libya, taking his money and moving on.

What remained was a weaker Libya, drained of its wealth and isolated from both the Arab world and Africa. His ambitions had led to nothing but war, wasted resources, and thousands of lost lives.

The Revolution: The End of a Four-Decade Winter

The Arab Spring was a wildfire that swept across the Middle East and North Africa, igniting a fervor for change in societies long ruled by iron-fisted regimes. By early 2011, Tunisia and Egypt had already deposed their long-time rulers, and the momentum of revolution found its way into Libya. On February 15, 2011, protests broke out in Benghazi, Libya’s second-largest city, after the arrest of Fathi Terbil, a lawyer representing the families of victims of the 1996 Abu Salim prison massacre, where over 1,200 political prisoners were executed by Gaddafi’s forces. What began as a local outcry against oppression soon turned into a nationwide uprising against Muammar Gaddafi’s four-decade rule.

Eastern Libya was the first to shake off Gaddafi’s control. Cities like Bayda, Derna, and Tobruk rapidly fell into the hands of protesters as military and police officers defected. The movement spread westward, reaching Misurata, Zawiya, and even parts of Tripoli, where people took to the streets demanding an end to dictatorship. What set Libya apart from Tunisia and Egypt was the brutal response of the regime—Gaddafi’s forces fired live ammunition on unarmed protesters, killing and injuring many civilians in Benghazi. Instead of quelling dissent, this only fueled the revolution, making it clear that Libya would not see a peaceful transition of power.

As protests turned into an armed rebellion, the National Transitional Council (NTC) was formed in Benghazi on February 27, 2011, declaring itself the legitimate representative of the Libyan people. Comprised of defected officials, intellectuals, and military officers, the NTC quickly gained international recognition. France was the first to acknowledge it as Libya’s legitimate government on March 10, 2011, followed by the United Kingdom, the United States, and the European Union. The Libyan rebels now had a political entity speaking on their behalf, and the world was listening.

The Holy War

Despite mounting opposition, Gaddafi refused to back down. He appeared on state television, vowing to crush the uprising and calling the rebels “rats” that needed to be exterminated (Here's a link to his famous speech). His forces launched a counteroffensive, reclaiming lost ground in the west and advancing toward Benghazi, the revolution’s heartland. By mid-March, it seemed inevitable that the regime would retake the city, ending the rebellion before it could fully take root.

The international community, witnessing the massacre of civilians, decided to act. On March 17, 2011, the United Nations Security Council passed Resolution 1973, authorizing the use of force to protect Libyan civilians and impose a no-fly zone over Libya. Two days later, NATO launched Operation Unified Protector, targeting Gaddafi’s military infrastructure. French fighter jets were the first to strike, neutralizing an advancing regime column near Benghazi. Soon, the skies over Libya were dominated by NATO warplanes, preventing Gaddafi’s forces from using airpower against the rebels.

However, the intervention was not universally supported. While France, the UK, and the U.S. led the effort, countries like Russia and China abstained from the Security Council vote, criticizing the intervention as Western overreach. The African Union also opposed military action, fearing it would destabilize the region further. Despite this, NATO’s role proved pivotal in shifting the balance of power toward the rebels.

The intervention dealt a massive blow to Gaddafi’s military capabilities, but it also gave him a powerful propaganda tool. He framed the uprising as a Western conspiracy, urging Libyans to resist foreign invaders. State-run television broadcast images of bombed buildings and civilian casualties, reinforcing his claim that NATO’s mission was not to protect civilians but to occupy Libya. Many loyalist forces fought with renewed determination, convinced that they were waging a holy war against Western aggression.

The Stalemate

By the summer of 2011, the frontlines had stagnated. The rebels had secured much of the east, while Gaddafi’s forces remained entrenched in Tripoli, Bani Walid, Sabha, and Sirte. The war could have dragged on indefinitely, but two critical battles turned the tide: Misurata and the Nafusa Mountains.

The Battle of Misurata was one of the most grueling of the war. The city, Libya’s third-largest, was besieged by Gaddafi’s forces for nearly three months, enduring relentless artillery and tank shelling. However, the fierce determination of Misurata’s fighters kept the city from falling. With support from NATO airstrikes and humanitarian aid from Turkey and Qatar, the rebels managed to break the siege in May 2011, securing a crucial coastal supply route.

Meanwhile, in the Nafusa Mountains, Berber fighters waged an equally critical battle. Using guerrilla tactics, they overran regime positions and advanced toward Zawiya, cutting off Gaddafi’s supply lines. Without these victories, Libya might have been divided into two separate states, with Gaddafi retaining control over the west.

The Bride of the Mediterranean

By August 2011, Gaddafi’s forces were collapsing. Rebels from multiple fronts coordinated a final push toward Tripoli, the capital known as the “Bride of the Mediterranean.” The world braced for a long and bloody battle, expecting street-to-street fighting that could leave thousands dead.

Instead, the capital fell within days. The swift takeover was largely due to a dramatic decision by one of Gaddafi’s own military officers, Abdul Naker, who chose to raise the white flag rather than see the city destroyed. The rebels stormed the Bab al-Aziziya compound, Gaddafi’s infamous headquarters, tearing down his statues and looting his palatial residence. The dictator, however, was nowhere to be found.

One Last Stand

With Tripoli lost, Gaddafi’s final refuge was his hometown of Sirte. Believed to be hiding there, he gathered his most loyal fighters for a last stand. The Battle of Sirte, which lasted from September 15 to October 20, 2011, was the final confrontation of the revolution.

By October 20, 2011, Gaddafi and his last remaining fighters attempted a desperate escape, breaking through the siege. As they fled in a convoy, a NATO airstrike struck their vehicles, scattering the fighters. Gaddafi, wounded but alive, was captured by rebel forces. Videos soon emerged showing him bloodied and disoriented, pleading for his life. The moment that so many Libyans had waited for—the fall of the dictator—ended in brutal fashion. He was beaten, humiliated, and executed in extreme agony. His body was later displayed in a meat freezer for public viewing, a grim testament to the anger that had built up over 42 years of oppression.

Three days later, on October 23, 2011, the NTC officially declared Libya liberated. The revolution was over. Gaddafi’s era had ended, and Libya stood on the precipice of an uncertain future.

Mohammed’s Experience

The February 17th Revolution in Libya was more than just a political upheaval; it was a moment that redefined the course of an entire nation. My generation is a product of the Arab Spring—a wave of uprisings that reshaped the region and defined our coming of age. I was only 12 years old when it began, and I witnessed history unfold firsthand. During a family trip to Egypt, I saw the streets erupt in protests, felt the charged atmosphere, and even inhaled the sting of tear gas. Stranded at Cairo International Airport for two days, my family and I finally made it home, only to find that 18 days later, the Arab Spring had reached Libya. At first, I expected it to follow the same course as Egypt—a swift uprising leading to change. But within days, the protests escalated into a violent confrontation, spiraling into an eight-month-long civil war between the regime and the rebels.

For 42 years, Libya was governed by a complex web of tribal alliances, all ultimately controlled by a single man—Muammar Gaddafi. A deeply controversial figure both domestically and internationally, his rule fostered a political system that all but ensured a deep social divide once the revolution began. This divide was not only a consequence of Libya’s political structure, which positioned some of its largest cities and tribes on opposing sides of the conflict, but also of the regime’s paradoxical legacy. Despite its brutal authoritarianism and institutional corruption, Gaddafi’s rule provided Libya with high levels of security and economic stability relative to the region. As a result, the revolution became a battle of perspectives—those who saw an opportunity for a new era, no matter the cost, and those unwilling to gamble on an uncertain future.

In the early days of the revolution, there was an overwhelming desire for change—a sentiment so strong that even as a child, I could feel it everywhere. It echoed in homes, schools, and streets, despite the fact that my area remained under regime control until the fall of Tripoli in August 2011. However, one event drastically shifted perspectives. On March 19, 2011, NATO launched its aerial campaign in support of the rebels, marking a turning point in the conflict. While the intervention ultimately weakened the regime to the point of collapse, it also became one of its most powerful propaganda tools. For many, the presence of foreign forces reinforced loyalty to the state, leading them to rally around the flag. Gaddafi seized this moment, framing the revolution not as an internal struggle for freedom, but as a holy war against the so-called powers of evil—a narrative he used to justify his fight to the bitter end.

One of the most deeply ingrained memories of my childhood—one that still resurfaces unexpectedly and fills me with fear—took place on March 19, 2011, the same day NATO’s intervention began. That night, I experienced firsthand one of the first airstrikes, which struck just a few kilometers north of our family farmhouse. I remember standing beside my father, praying at my grandmother’s house, when suddenly, the earth shook beneath us. My father cut the prayer short, and we ran outside, only to be met with the sight of a towering fire lighting up the sky. The initial strike was followed by several others, each one bringing more panic and devastation. Everyone was crying, overwhelmed by the sheer force of what was unfolding. But what struck me the most in that moment was my father’s face—for the first time in my life, I saw fear in his eyes. It was a defining moment, one that left a mark on me far beyond that night. I watched as he prayed—not for victory, not for revenge, but for the safety of his family.

Years later, when I ask him about that night, his response remains the same: that was the exact moment he realized that Libya’s road to recovery would be long, uncertain, and perhaps even impossible.

The resilience of human beings is always fascinating. You wouldn’t believe it if I told you that within just a week, we had already adapted to the deafening roar of hypersonic jets piercing through the skies. What once would have been unthinkable quickly became part of our daily reality—the sight of people, some of whom I knew personally, casually carrying all sorts of weapons as if they had done so their entire lives. The surreal had become ordinary, and phenomena that once felt like a distant nightmare had settled into the fabric of our existence.

Another memory I can't get over was the day Gaddafi was killed. I was with my cousins, having just returned from a volunteering event to support cities affected by the war. When we got home, I found my mother standing still in front of the television, her face filled with concern. Having lived her entire life under Gaddafi’s rule, it was clear she had never imagined she would witness his death in such a brutal manner. A few minutes later, gunshots and fireworks replaced the silence. Throughout that day, I saw hundreds of faces, each reflecting a different emotion—ranging from extreme happiness to utter devastation. It was one of the most memorable days of my life, not just for its historical significance, but for the vivid insight it gave me into society and human nature. The death of one man had scattered an entire population, leaving some hopeful for the future and others lost in uncertainty.

When the revolution first ended, I remember a general sense of excitement filling the air. People were hopeful for a new era that would make them forget the suffering they had endured. I recall the principal of my school in the first year after the war, addressing us every morning, telling us that we were the inheritors of the new Libya and that the martyrs had sacrificed their lives so that we could live in peace and freedom. As a child who had already lived through so much before I had the ability to fully process it all, I believed in this vision wholeheartedly.

But now, 14 years later, my perspective has changed. While I still salute and respect the sacrifices made to topple tyranny, I cannot ignore the reality that we now live under a much more brutal type of tyranny—one that has shattered the dreams of those who fought for something better.

My Experience

When the revolution started, I don’t know if it was my Bani Waleed blood (my hometown was known for its support of Gaddafi) or just my desire to always be different from my family, but the eight-year-old me was an advocate for Gaddafi. I used to hold up the four-finger salute (a symbol of Gaddafi’s supporters) to my cousins and brothers, and I would turn on the national channel when my dad was home—just to tease them. Back then, no one dared to say anything to me about it because they were afraid I’d go to school and accidentally snitch on them. It was a very sensitive time because Gaddafi still held some power, and expressing opposition, even at home, was dangerous.

My father had been opposed to Gaddafi from the very beginning, and with good reason—he had a personal history with him. When my dad was young, Gaddafi’s men pursued him to join the military. Knowing exactly what kind of man Gaddafi was, my father understood that working for him would mean being complicit in killing innocent people, so he kept running. He ran so much that one day, when Gaddafi’s men came to our house looking for him, he fled from the roof to another city just to escape. Eventually, he was caught and detained, but his uncle, who worked for Gaddafi, put in a word for him, and he was released. However, my dad still couldn’t escape the regime entirely—he was forced to work for Gaddafi as a telecommunications engineer.

He was so good at his job that he became essential to Gaddafi’s government, to the point where he wasn’t allowed to leave the country. Sometimes, they would call him into work at 3 a.m., and on September 1st, Libya’s national day (which also happened to be his wedding anniversary), he was required to work for 24 hours straight. He was trapped under Gaddafi’s system, but he never stopped hating the man who took his freedom away.

So, when the revolution broke out, my father immediately joined the fight against Gaddafi. It started with small-scale clearouts, like removing a Gaddafi-affiliated company in front of our house. I still remember that day vividly. My uncles and my father went out to fight while we—the women and children—stood at the doors and rooftops, watching them, praying for them, and holding candles. At that time, we had no water or electricity because the regime had cut off essential services.

We were also hosting a displaced family at our house—a man, a woman, and two children. The man went out to fight alongside my father and uncles and was injured in battle. With no access to hospitals and barely any water, we had to medicate him at home. I remember how one of my uncles, whenever water would briefly return, would fill bottles and store them on top of his annex house. That stored water is what we used for drinking, washing, and even fighting fires during those days.

One fire, in particular, I will never forget. A few days later, during Ramadan, my brother and I were home alone while my mother went to pray Taraweeh at my uncle’s house, where he led prayers for the women in the family every year. We decided to go downstairs to my grandfather’s house to play with our cousins. Before leaving, my brother left a candle burning in the kitchen to keep the house lit in the darkness.

Later that night, my mother asked me to go back upstairs to make coffee, and as soon as I reached the house, I saw thick smoke pouring out. I opened the door and found the entire kitchen in flames, the fire spreading quickly. I ran downstairs screaming for help. With no running water, we used the bottles my uncle had stored to put out the fire. Everyone helped, even the displaced family and the injured man.

As the situation in Tripoli improved and the revolutionaries moved to liberate other cities, my father and uncles joined them on their way to Bani Waleed. They visited once, and my father was with them. The second time they visited, we were holding a funeral for my cousin, who had been killed in battle. I remember walking down to our garden and seeing blood everywhere. To my shock, two of my uncles had returned injured. My father, however, was not with them. I kept asking about him, but they reassured me, saying, “He will come next time.”

Once my uncles healed from their wounds, they went back to fight. A few weeks later, I woke up to my aunts screaming in the garden. I ran to look out the window, and I heard them shouting my father’s name. I didn’t understand at first. I ran to call my mother, and as soon as she heard their voices, she collapsed on the stairs, crying. I finally heard what they were saying:

“Musbah left us.”

“We lost him.”

Earlier that morning, my mother had called my father. His friends had kept passing the phone around, avoiding letting her speak to him directly. She knew something was wrong. Eventually, one of them told her the truth: he had gone out to the battlefield.

Later, his friends told us that my father had prayed for this—for martyrdom. In our faith, we believe martyrs go straight to heaven, and I hope that’s where he is now.

We held a funeral, and people came in and out of our home, mourning with us. My uncles also returned, and just days later, my grandfather—my father’s father—also passed away due to his illness. Eid came, but we did not celebrate it. There had been too much loss.

Then, life settled. The country, and our family, had moments of calm. One day, my cousins and I were sitting in a room when suddenly, breaking news flashed across the TV. Gaddafi had been captured in the ugliest way possible—hiding inside a sewage pipe, in the very same artificial river he had built to claim himself a hero. I remember the explosion of happiness. We rushed to the streets, playing revolution songs, waving flags, and joining the city-wide celebrations. For the first time in 42 years, Libya was free.

At that moment, everyone’s eyes were shining, their faces lit with hope. After decades under a merciless dictatorship, people were dreaming of a brighter future. We thought that after Gaddafi, Libya would rebuild itself, that our sacrifices had led to something greater.

Now, 14 years later, after multiple civil wars, political divisions, and ongoing corruption, our country still struggles. The revolution may have freed us from a dictator, but it also left us without true political leadership. Gaddafi’s 42-year rule left Libya without strong institutions or experienced politicians. Today, we continue to hope that one day, real change will come, and Libya will finally know peace and stability.

---

Resources

Personal experience and second-hand stories

Books:

-              My Vision by Edmond Jouve

-              Gaddafi's Harem by Annick Cojean

-              Libya Since 1969 by Dirk Vanderwalle

-              Libya by Peter Malcolm, Elie Losleben (fav)

-              Green Book by Mummar Gaddafi

Shows:

-              How to Become a Tyrant, Netflix

Websites:

-              https://libyanheritagehouse.org/history-libya/libya-gaddafi-period

-              https://www.britannica.com/biography/Muammar-al-Qaddafi

-              https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pan_Am_Flight_103

-              https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Third_International_Theory

KM, till next time <3