Respected Itagi,
You might be disappointed that I haven’t responded even after a month since I received the book, Libya Diary, which you kindly sent me. Please forgive me for this delay, as I was caught up within my own work commitments.
The moment I held your book, I read it in one sitting within a few hours. Your book possesses a unique quality—it compels the reader to keep reading, refusing to allow it to be set aside. Your work and its topics have a certain determination, much like a child stubbornly insisting on getting what they want.
Why am I so intrigued by your book’s protagonist, Muammar Gaddafi? It is because of his political authority, the economic policies he implemented, his grand ambition to unite the African community, his diplomatic relations with neighbouring nations, and his establishment of massive mosques in countries like Tanzania, Uganda, and Rwanda. I have seen this first hand and heard about them from the people of these countries.
I have visited many countries in East Africa, particularly spending some time in Uganda and Rwanda, where I have interacted with the people and experienced their lives. What I observed was that Gaddafi viewed religion as a unifying force for his neighbouring nations. With this belief, he built mosques in these three countries, aiming to foster religious unity.
These nations proudly consider these mosques as priceless gifts from him. I had the opportunity to visit all three mosques.
The National Mosque in Dodoma, the capital of Tanzania, is the largest mosque in the country and the second-largest in East Africa. It can accommodate approximately 3,000 people for prayer at a time. Gaddafi gifted this mosque in 2010 as a symbol of Islamic heritage to the people of Tanzania. I have mentioned this in my travelogue on Tanzania. In the Tanzanian national language, Swahili, it is called Mskiti wa Gaddafi. This Islamic monument, adorned with white minarets, stands as a proud symbol of his contribution.
Gaddafi also constructed the largest mosque in the East African country of Uganda, located atop a hill in the capital city, Kampala. The mosque’s architectural style is extraordinary and unmatched, and it stands in a prime and prestigious location in Kampala. Built in 2006, this mosque was a result of Gaddafi’s friendship with Idi Amin. It emerged as a symbol of this friendship and as a religious monument. However, Idi Amin had passed away even before the mosque was completed.
This mosque is expansive and awe-inspiring. It accommodates around 13,000 people on the ground floor, 3,500 on the terrace, and approximately 1,000 in the gallery for prayers. This is another priceless gift from Gaddafi to the country of Uganda. After Gaddafi's death, the mosque’s name was changed from "Gaddafi National Mosque" to "Uganda National Mosque," just like the one in Tanzania.
The countries he considered as friendly nations, for whom he built grand mosques in his name, later erased his name from their histories by renaming these monuments. The mosque built by Gaddafi in Kigali, Rwanda, has followed a similar path. However, it is undeniable that Gaddafi’s strategy of constructing mosques in numerous countries was part of a broader plan to promote Islam, unify citizens through religion, and thereby strengthen Muslim fundamentalism.
When I visited Tanzania in December 2011, Gaddafi had just been assassinated. There was an unending flow of tears in the eyes of the Tanzanian people, mourning the death of a patriotic leader who had gifted their country such a prestigious mosque. Though I only had a surface-level understanding of Gaddafi’s ideals, including his ambition to transform his country into a paradise and the rapid revolution that occurred there, I did not hear a single word of criticism about him in either Uganda or Tanzania. Moreover, the people of these nations and their governments proudly shared with me a long list of Gaddafi’s contributions, expressing their love, gratitude, and admiration for him.
When I learned that you had written Libya Diary, my curiosity was naturally piqued. Your book answered all my questions and justified my interest in Gaddafi’s story. Thank you for trusting me with your work. How should this book be categorized in terms of literary genre? Is it history, a biography, a travelogue, or a record of political events? Perhaps it is a work that defies easy classification, striving to represent all these genres while maintaining its unique identity.
Primarily, as an anti-imperialist, Gaddafi set out to protect his small country, Libya, and strengthen it economically and socially. He fought against the colonial empires, striving to preserve his nation’s identity while facing opposition from religious fundamentalists within his country. Despite these efforts, his ambitious and heroic life ended in solitude, with none of his achievements remaining in memory. Itagi has made an effort to meticulously unravel every thread of this remarkable leader's life.
The book’s main objective is to delve into the secret operations behind the assassination of such a great leader, the role of religious fundamentalists, and the eventual downfall of Gaddafi, who had become a beacon of hope in Africa. As the author notes, this was also the fall of Libya itself. The Libya that collapsed in 2011 has yet to recover.
Figures like Gaddafi are portrayed differently by advanced nations, including the United States. The media, which supports these portrayals, has, according to the author, distorted history, creating fabricated narratives and interpretations. When such constructed opinions take root in the global consciousness as if they were the truth, Itagi sets out to challenge and dismantle these strong interpretations and narratives. With this aim, the author attempts to reframe the discussions around Gaddafi, presenting a counter-narrative about the leader.
The book is written with an acknowledgment of Gaddafi’s administrative style, his ideologies, his economic policies, and his significant role as a leader in the Arab world. The author expresses deep admiration for Gaddafi’s economic policies and his amicable relationships with neighboring nations. However, this does not mean Gaddafi was without flaws. These shortcomings are explained with well-reasoned arguments. The chapters, such as The Mistakes of Gaddafi and Where Libya Went Wrong, exhibit an unbiased critique, free from any prejudiced undertones, providing an impartial and balanced analysis.
In the section titled Gaddafi Girls, the author introduces the women associated with Gaddafi. There is no precedent in the world where women, often perceived as the "weaker sex," have been appointed as bodyguards. However, Gaddafi employed 300 women in his security force. While this might seem commendable at first glance, the fact that they were required to be beautiful, virgins, dressed in modern attire, always made-up, and close confidantes of his paints a picture of his misogynistic tendencies. The anecdotes about Ukrainian beauties being essential for his health check-ups further highlight Gaddafi's stance towards women. The author subtly suggests that Gaddafi did not view the world of women with the sanctity or respect it deserved. Similarly, the fascination surrounding the Mauritanian women reveals not just their charm but also their helplessness, which becomes a more critical aspect of the narrative. While there are strong reasons supporting the claim that women were safer under Gaddafi's regime, this truth emerges alongside a reflection of the complexities and contradictions in his approach toward women.
In the Sahara Desert Poetry Gathering, the physical descriptions of an Italian poetess—such as referring to her as "bichamma" (uncovered woman), "muchamma" (covered woman), and "sexy"—evoke a sense of discomfort. Even years after the revolution, the attitudes and perceptions toward women remain evident. The lingering thought of whether local women too should have such opportunities highlights the underlying societal disparities. Instead of focusing on the significant aspects of the multilingual gathering—like which topics gained prominence in which languages—the narrative veers towards the foreign woman’s attire, her revealing clothing, her manner of crossing her legs, and her smoking. It fails to discuss the poetry she presented, the theme she chose, or her style of narration, which would have been more satisfying. Who were the other poets at the gathering? What poetic sentiments did they bring? How did the university students attending the event respond and critique the session? Perhaps if attention had been directed to these aspects, we might have gleaned valuable insights into contemporary Libyan literature and critiques.
A distinct and captivating section of the book is the description of the Sahara Desert. The portrayal of natural art blossoming on the Avinat rocks, the Gebraoun Lake in Ubari, and the Akakus Mountains is deeply moving and evocative. The descriptions of the desert's beauty—the hidden springs, greenery sprouting even in arid lands, and the extreme cold during winter—are remarkable and beautifully narrated.
The chapter titled "The Two Who Met in the Rain" draws a parallel to the desert’s oases. During the author’s moments of hardship, these individuals emerge and extend a helping hand. Whether it is a well-employed woman or a modestly earning cab driver, the author notes the shared humanity and empathy they exhibit. This sensitivity in recognizing such nuances reflects the author’s perceptive nature. Perhaps their demeanour has been shaped by the political ideology of their leader, Gaddafi, or it could stem from their innate humanitarian values, which Gaddafi’s political philosophy reinforced. After all, the guiding principle of Gaddafi's regime was equality—be it between men and women or across industrial, economic, and educational spheres. The author beautifully narrates this rare and touching experience from their own life, reflecting these values.
Itagi worked as an English teacher in Sebha University for seven to eight years. In this context, one wonders if the relationships he built with students have continued in this era of Facebook and email. What about the education system there? What were the achievements in the academic field? Which subjects did students show the most interest in? Was the suspension of a global communication language for ten years by Gaddafi—possibly to avoid foreign influences or keep their wages from being infiltrated by outsiders—justifiable? What were the repercussions of this on the practical and educational spheres? How did it affect the youth?
In Gaddafi’s nation, which boasted about gender equality, what were the conditions for women's education? What were Gaddafi’s stances on science and technology? Did he hire a team of bodyguards solely to ensure his own safety? Did he appoint nurses just to look after his health? What was the state of the country's healthcare system? What were the medical facilities available? These are some questions that could have been addressed by the author to satisfy the readers' curiosity.
Moreover, when living in a foreign land for several years, there is a potential to uncover unknown facets of its people's lifestyle, cultural life, social life, food, music, dance, and markets. Through Itagi's writings, many undiscovered aspects of Libya’s culture could have come to light. hese are some of my doubts. If the author were to expand this diary, shedding light on all these aspects, it would provide a deeper understanding of Libya’s culture. Perhaps the author could bring out these lingering memories, cultural encounters, and reflections on Libya's current circumstances, its joys, and struggles in a Diary-2.
Standing amidst the contradictions of controversies, the author has ventured to break the ready-made image of Gaddafi and construct a new portrayal of him as a people-oriented and loyal leader, highlighting his positive traits. This effort is commendable. To reinterpret and provide a fresh perspective on a character deeply ingrained in the public psyche for decades is a significant achievement. Itagi has succeeded in providing new definitions and interpretations of such a revolutionary leader, whose character naturally evokes extremes—people either blindly love and accept him or reject and despise him with equal intensity. To reinterpret such a complex personality requires not only logical reasoning but also courage, and Itagi seems to possess both qualities.
Dr. D. Mangala Priyadarshini
Renowned Critic
Bangalore
15.12.2019
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