Following months of fighting, Libyan rebels on 20 October 2011 found and killed the country’s longtime leader, Muammar Qadhafi.
As the news exploded, images of the blood-stained colonel spread all over the world. In Libya still, there is a sense of “before” and “after” Qadhafi. The joy, the tears and the shock was such that many remember exactly what they were doing when they heard the news.
But Libyans experienced Qadhafi’s fall in many different ways. A year after the colonel’s death, a series of portraits of Libyans spanning all social classes allows us to map out the country’s new generation.
How are the people of Libya living today? What expectations do they hold for the newly appointed government? Five portraits, three questions and one guiding principle: their country.
KHADIJA TARHOUNI, 42, refugee of Bab al-Azizia
I don’t accept foreign forces bombing my country. The West had no right involving themselves in our business
What were you doing on the day of Qadhafi’s death?
On that day, I was at my brother’s house in Tripoli getting ready for my nephew’s wedding. I was busy baking cakes.
The television was always on, as we were following the fighting, so I quickly learned of the colonel’s death. For the first few minutes, I didn’t know that this man, who governed our country for over 40 years, was dead.
Then I felt terribly sad that he had been treated this way: dragged along, held up for all to see. I was disgusted. I would have preferred him to be arrested and made to stand trial.
After hearing the news, I couldn’t concentrate on the cakes anymore.
More than a year has passed. What are your views on the revolution?
If the revolutionaries truly respected Libya, they would not have destroyed Bab al-Azizia, a valuable part of our country’s heritage.
The buildings would have been much more useful left standing; it’s such a waste. Now, the whole country is armed and I don’t feel safe. I’m scared of being hit by a stray bullet, and my husband never gets in his car without a gun for self-defense.
The only thing we’ve won is freedom of speech and information. It’s one year on, but we can’t talk of victory.
How do you envisage Libya’s future?
I can’t give an opinion about a regime that doesn’t even exist. If I compare the two revolutions: the coup d’etat led by Qadhafi in 1969 [against King Idris] and what has just occurred, at least the former was peaceful.
Qadhafi stabilized the country and brought our status up in the eyes of the rest of the world. Now I worry about the fate of women. Qadhafi did a great deal for women’s rights.
Women could become pilots, army generals and judges — posts that were previously held exclusively by men. In a tribal society such as ours, that is a real achievement.
To return to outdated principles establishing polygamy is a terrible setback and a bad omen for the future.
OUSSAMA BOUGHRARA, 37, fisherman
It was our duty to take up arms and protect the harbor
What were you doing on the day of Qadhafi’s death?
I had a meeting with the head of security at [the National Transition Council] in Benghazi. I was with some colleagues when a man came running up to tell us that Qadhafi was dead.
Straight after, a different man came over to tell us that it wasn’t true. We started getting calls confirming the rumors, and I was completely, crazily happy.
That being said, I would have preferred to see him stand trial. Qadhafi had so many secrets to tell, specifically about his dealings with the West.
How has your life changed since the revolution?
In the eight months following the revolution, the fishing trade slowed down considerably, and so we were focused exclusively on protecting the fishing harbor. I gathered together young men from nearby neighborhoods and formed an armed group of about 40.
Our main goal was to protect the merchandise from theft in the absence of the police, and we never hesitated, as it was our duty as citizens.
Strategically, Benghazi was important during the revolution. We helped many thousands of Chinese workers escape via the port, which was also the point of passage for sending weapons and other supplies to Misrata. We also helped to moor cargo ships that were transporting petrol to pro-Qadhafi zones.
Since the country’s liberation, I’m in charge of about 300 men who are paid to ensure the protection of Benghazi’s harbor and customs control under the authority of the Defense Ministry. It’s all quite ironic considering that before the revolution, I refused to carry out my military service.
Is Libya now a free country?
Libya is free, but there still remains the problem of centralization. I really hope that Benghazi will have its own administration so that life is made easier for the city’s people.
Currently, even our salaries come from Tripoli. Oil profits should also be shared according to demographics.
It’s not about revenge, but Qadhafi treated east Libya badly for years for the profit of the West. I just want all Libyans to be treated fairly.
AHMED FERNANA, 30, military officer
I still remember the smell of the Bab al-Azizia compound hitting me: sulphur and the stench of bodies. I’ll never forget that moment
What were you doing on the day of Qadhafi’s death?
The night before, I had been out with friends in Tripoli. I stayed at their place, and we woke up late, around midday.
When we turned on the TV and saw the banners announcing Qadhafi’s death, we couldn’t believe our eyes. We went straight out to La Place des Martyrs [Martyrs Square] to join the crowds.
To see Qadhafi killed on Libyan soil was something we had never dared to dream of; we thought he had fled to Algeria or elsewhere. On that day, I remember completely losing control: jumping around, screaming and firing my AK-47.
We screamed so much that three days later, my friends were still voiceless.
A year after the revolution, how has your life changed?
Before the revolution, I was a professional footballer for a premier division club. Starting in November 2011, I fought for the freedom of Beni Walid, one of the last Kabbalah strongholds.
Today, I signed a yearlong contract with the Defense Ministry to be operating chief of protection groups for ministers and official delegations of the Sawak barracks.
Though it’s not something that I want to do forever, it is a job that I enjoy. I feel as though the revolution changed my identity.
I’ve always loved Libya, but now I’m proud to be from this country. I want to study and build a family here. Even though my football career is over, I’ve found new hope.
How do you envisage Libya’s future?
It takes time for a country to find its political footing. It is especially difficult to judge the representatives in office when the majority are unknown to us.
But I trust the Libyan people: They freed the country and they know what is best. However, Libya must become a country based on rights.
The first thing that must be done is to find a solution for those who were chased out of their homes by Qadhafi’s supporters due to their political beliefs.
RYAN AL-AZZABI, 20, breakdancer
During the revolution, there was no water, electricity or phone signal in my house. All I did was dance; it was the only thing I could do
What were you doing on the day of Qadhafi’s death?
At the time, I was working as a freelance cartoonist for the Libya Times, a cultural and political magazine published in English. The rumors began to spread in the morning; we even pretended to kill Qadhafi while playing PlayStation games. … Then a colleague found the video online.
All around, people began to cry with joy. I thought to myself that finally, the world would be able to see the true Libya. Also, we’d be able to travel to competitions.
A year after the revolution, how has your life changed?
Breakdancing was never allowed, and practicing in the street was almost impossible; I can’t count the number of times we were chased away from where we were dancing. Breakdancing was not considered compatible with our culture and traditions, and when we invited B-boys to Libya, they were not allowed to enter the country.
Ever since the revolution, we feel free to practice, and for the first time we’ve organized a national competition to take place in Tripoli at the end of November. So far, 38 dancers have signed up, and we are hoping for an audience of about 200.
This is a great opportunity to see Libya’s finest B-boys. We would never have been able to organize this kind of event under the old regime.
How do you envisage Libya’s future?
One thing’s for sure: We finally have freedom of speech. However, it takes a lot longer to change people’s attitudes. Those who have lived under Qadhafi’s rule for 42 years will not be completely freed in the blink of an eye.
I think the people of Libya are only just seeing young people dancing in the streets. It will take some time for them to understand exactly what we do.
RIMA SALEM, 25, NGO worker
Death was the only justice for Qadhafi
What were you doing on the day of Qadhafi’s death?
I was in the kitchen and turned on the TV as I do every day. All of the channels were talking about it, but there were no images, so I didn’t believe them.
I thought that capturing him was impossible. Several hours passed and then the photos began to surface, but he really wasn’t recognizable and so I still didn’t believe it.
I was glued to the news for the whole day, only finally believing when we saw the video at the end of the day. Obviously, I’d have loved it if he’d have given up all of his secrets, but for Qadhafi, the only justice was death.
A year after the revolution, how has your life changed?
Before the revolution, I was studying microbiology at the University of Tripoli and working part time as a translator. I stopped when the university closed because of the revolution.
Nothing happened, so I started to look for work. I did odd jobs, but nothing that I was really interested in.
Working for the [United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees] is a way of reaching out to refugees and those who were displaced. By talking to these people, I can establish what they need, whether it be financial aid, medical assistance, etc.
Now I would prefer to continue my studies abroad, in an Anglophone country, if possible.
How do you envisage Libya’s future?
Before, we didn’t have freedom, so the situation has vastly improved, but since the revolution religion has taken up too much space. Islamic religious leaders are heavily involved with the media, and their opinions hold more weight than before.
No one should tell me how to practice my faith. I would like to see the separation of state and religion. Without this, we will never live in a true democracy.
