Reviews Received So Far for the Libya Diary

As I turn the pages of Libya Diary.... I have known Uday for many years. When I was the associate editor of the online magazine Avadhi, his series of articles about Libya were published regularly in Avadhi. So, when he told me that it would be turned into a book, I was very happy. For those of us who have only read opinions from sources like Reuters or Google about a country in the Third World, it’s a different kind of excitement to read a firsthand account from someone who has spent years there. But one day, when Uday called me and asked me to write the foreword for the book, I was filled with anxiety! Firstly, since I had just started a new project, my lack of time was a challenge. Secondly, I doubted whether I had the deep reading experience required to write a foreword for such a topic. But when Uday said, "Write about how you, as a woman, see this," I felt that I could do it. So, I took it up and decided to read it once more. A new city, a new language, a new job, a new home, new bonds, new relationships—everything introduces us to a new world. Sometimes, we stand at the edge of that newness and just say 'hello' from a distance, while at other times, we cross its boundaries, step inside, and let it become a part of our life. This difference is crucial when we write about a new country, state, or even town. Writing from the periphery turns into a travel narrative, while crossing that boundary, stepping in, staying there, and mingling with the locals is how a book like Libya Diary by Uday Itagi comes into being. Uday did not go there as a tourist, and neither is the country known for its tourism industry. It is Libya, Gaddafi's Libya, the Libya that challenged America and asked, "What now?" While reading Uday Itagi's book, another country came to my mind—Cuba. During a session I attended, senior media expert G. N. Mohan, who had gone to Cuba, used the country as a backdrop to highlight America's attempts to dominate all of Latin America. Uday's book helped me understand several aspects, and G. N. Mohan's The Song Within Me: Cuba was instrumental in doing so. Like Cuba, Libya is a country rich in natural resources. In Cuba, sugar flows, while in Libya, oil flows. Both countries have caught the eye of powerful nations because of their wealth. While Spain's roots are found in Cuba, Italy’s roots are in Libya. Both countries, according to their power, have often plundered these colonies. In the early 20th century, America emerged as the "controlling power" in the world, establishing shops wherever it could earn money. By then, it had the media power to influence global opinions. Therefore, it cleverly shaped the world's perspectives to suit its needs. This brings to mind a statement made by L. Basavaraju, "Whoever controls the ball, the goal is always America's." Hence, America prepares a lens to view Cuba, another for Iraq, and another for Libya. With these lenses, the truth about Cuba, which stood against America and built its country, never comes out. Libya's struggle, which attempted to live by its own rules, is overshadowed by Gaddafi's cunning indifference and his greed being exposed to the world. After the war, despite Iraq's defeat and the death of Saddam Hussein, a decade later, the "weapons of mass destruction" America claimed existed in Iraq still haven't been found. Taking all these aspects into consideration, we must read Uday Itagi's book. Uday travels to Libya to teach English at a college. He writes about the life, political, social, and economic conditions he observed there. While writing, Uday does not provide any sources or references to support his account. There are no books, articles, or speeches that he quotes. If we were to compare his writing with the available information, what we find are news reports from Western media houses. Therefore, we must view Libya through Uday's eyes. His writing can be understood from three perspectives: first, Libya itself; second, Uday's experience in Libya; and third, the most important element for Uday—Gaddafi and Gaddafi's Libya. In 1968, at the age of 27, Gaddafi took control of Libya's leadership as part of a revolution. He began ruling Libya under the grand title "Brotherly Leader and Guide of the First of September Great Revolution of the Socialist People's Libyan Arab Jamahiriya" and continued for 47 years. There is a similarity between Cuba and Libya. Both countries possess immense natural wealth, and the countries that colonized them continue to profit from their resources. In Cuba, Fidel Castro and in Libya, Gaddafi opposed this exploitation. They both stood up and declared, "We decide the value of our country's wealth." Along with this, both men sought to drive out the American military presence from their lands. This is when America's cunning methods began. Through economic blockades, political pressure, international community influence, and media manipulation, America tried to shape public opinion against them. Castro and Gaddafi both stood firm in defiance. Perhaps this is where the comparison between the two ends. While Gaddafi showered his people with wealth, he failed to transform Libya into a nation like Cuba, one that made progress in fields such as community health and education, and stood firm against the giant power of America. Cuba, like a lamp flickering brightly in the dark, built its nation against all odds, while Gaddafi failed in this regard. Castro would say, "Give your commitment, a morsel of food, a day of labor, and let’s build the nation," while Gaddafi would say, "Here’s another fistful of money, stand with me." While the CIA failed to touch Castro, America had Gaddafi brutally murdered by his own country's revolutionary hands on the streets. Before and after Gaddafi's long rule, Libya was known internationally for not owing a penny, and its per capita income was at the highest level. However, corruption and the collapse of the governance system were also rampant. This "diary" helps us explore the reasons behind these changes. In his book, Uday describes how Gaddafi, through his shrewdness, trapped America. When Gaddafi came to power, the price of oil was about 40 cents per barrel, and gradually he raised it to over 40 dollars per barrel. He made Western countries depend on his oil. He ensured that his citizens received quality education. If they couldn’t find a proper job after their education, they received financial assistance for further studies. He also provided loans for married couples to build houses, for starting businesses, and even for students studying abroad to buy vehicles and receive stipends. The author praises Gaddafi’s administrative style, highlighting these developments. Another aspect he opens up is the ‘equality of life under the rule of a totalitarian state.’ He vividly describes how Libya was under Gaddafi and what happened after his reign. At times, it feels like the author is somewhat entranced by Gaddafi’s personality, as he seems to be quite close to him. Writing a biography involves maintaining a distance from the person being depicted, which is challenging but necessary. When this distance isn’t maintained, it becomes difficult to keep the narrative objective. Within this context, it becomes hard to separate Libya from Gaddafi. The book presents the contradictions and paradoxes of Gaddafi’s character, and in doing so, the author inadvertently supports Gaddafi, without realizing it. It seems that while writing the book, the author has already made a decision and is providing evidence to support that conclusion. Uday begins his writing by discussing the equality between a university dean and a staff member of the same college, thereby setting a positive tone for the book. What’s intriguing is how, when speaking to Libyans, they not only inquire about their own well-being but also ask about the welfare of their family members and even their pets. Reading this, we can’t help but smile without realizing it. These kinds of details make the book feel more personal and help connect the reader with the narrative. The book shatters many preconceived notions and opinions one might have about Libya and reveals numerous surprising aspects. For instance, Uday explains how a well can yield a spring of water just 40 feet deep in the Sahara Desert. To make agriculture feasible for the people, Gaddafi implemented one of the largest irrigation projects ever conceived, which is recognized as the largest man-made irrigation system in the world and has been described as the eighth wonder of the world. Another astonishing detail is about raising livestock in the desert's extreme climate, with its scorching heat during the day and bone-chilling cold at night. Uday also delves into the despair, loneliness, and nostalgia faced by those compelled to leave their homeland for work. He writes: "People like us working abroad often come back thinking we'll repay the debts accumulated during our labour and return to India to continue our regular lives. But over time, the need to enrol children in good schools arises, requiring another year of work. Then, we see friends and relatives buying a plot of land, and we decide to buy one too, which means staying back for another two years to pay off that commitment. After that, the thought of buying another plot for future security surfaces, extending the stay for a few more years. Once those debts are cleared, we think, 'Why not build a house of our own?' and again stay back for a couple more years. Eventually, having grown used to the high salary, the heart resists returning to India for a lower-paying job. So, we delay the return by another two years, planning to save up and live a peaceful life later. This cycle of planning to return and postponing continues endlessly. Where do human desires end? By the time we fulfil one ambition after another, we've spent eight or ten years of our lives devoid of true warmth and happiness." Reading this, the eyes get wet, and the heart sinks. The difficulty of maintaining distant relationships after leaving loved ones behind is no small feat. Such introspective reflections make the book deeply personal and engaging. The narrative continues: "But let’s not even start talking about the lives of masons, plumbers, and electricians who come here to work for as little as 30,000 rupees (with free food and shared accommodation). For them, owning a laptop or using the internet is a distant dream. Even making a phone call home is a costly affair, so they keep quiet. When they do manage to call every 10 or 15 days, they write down everything they want to say on a sheet of paper and rush through the conversation, which barely lasts five or six minutes. These individuals not only suppress their desires but also their emotions to survive." This raises a poignant question: Did they gain anything from working abroad, or did they lose something invaluable? That is not to say that everything in the book is entirely agreeable to the mind. I also noticed certain issues, which I feel compelled to mention here—not to label them as flaws in the writing but because leaving them unaddressed would render this discussion incomplete. Firstly, Itagi mentions Gaddafi’s female bodyguards, referred to as "Gaddafi’s Girls". Gaddafi had immense faith in women’s capabilities, which led Uday to boldly state that "he was the first man to appoint female bodyguards and thereby proclaim his trust in them to the world." Besides bodyguards, Gaddafi also employed Ukrainian nurses. Many photographs of these bodyguards depict them adorned in a manner rivaling that of models, which Uday justifies as an extension of Gaddafi’s appreciation for beauty. However, appointing women to such roles is not unprecedented. For example, consider the Tamil Eelam movement, where both male and female soldiers fought. The fact that some were women was merely incidental, and there was no emphasis on their femininity through adornments or attire. But Gaddafi’s bodyguard force was different—it consisted of around 300–400 young, attractive women. Having both men and women in a military force represents equality. But deliberately selecting only attractive women for such roles cannot be dismissed so casually. Furthermore, the rules he imposed on these women were downright oppressive. None of the women in his guard were allowed to marry until their retirement. Can this be seen merely as a disciplinary measure? It appears more like the indulgence of an autocrat. Moreover, for someone who was such a supposed "connoisseur of beauty," Gaddafi’s nurses were forbidden from wearing any adornments, with their sole purpose in life being service. Adding to the contradictions, reports suggest he bestowed gold watches upon his bodyguards accompanying him on foreign trips, which raises questions about his intentions. These observations suggest that Gaddafi’s practices were not solely about empowering women but also reflected his personal whims and autocratic excesses. Another concern I have is with the way Uday presents the subject of “Mauritanian beauties.” He writes about how they captivated everyone’s attention and how many desired their company. However, while he describes men seeking the company of these women, even those who were married, he portrays the women alone in a negative light, almost as if branding them as prostitutes. This one-sided portrayal feels unfair. It is not right to view their behavior through the lens of our local moralities and binaries of right and wrong. In their cultural context, forming friendships or relationships with men, or pursuing intimacy when they felt a connection, might have been entirely natural. To label them as prostitutes merely because they engaged in a relationship outside of marriage seems inappropriate. While he writes with great empathy about the loneliness of men who leave their families behind in their home countries, there is a lack of sensitivity in acknowledging that these women, too, might have been dealing with loneliness in their lives. Another issue arises when he discusses Libyan women, describing them as having dark skin and thus lacking attractiveness. Since the time Lohia wrote about Indian beauty standards and biases regarding skin color, there has been significant discourse on the subject. Over the years, these discussions have helped us shed many of our prejudices. However, writing or speaking about such biases today, as if it were a natural observation, is troubling. While I don’t deny that such biases may still persist in some minds, when a writer expresses them, they gain a sense of permanence and universality. Writers must be mindful of this responsibility. As I mentioned earlier, these are my concerns. Despite these issues, the book sheds light on several significant historical aspects, which makes it important for various reasons. After writing about Gaddafi and the changes that occurred in Libya, Uday delves into the lives of the people there. The book becomes even more touching as it portrays the love shown by strangers in an unfamiliar land, love offered without any reason or recognition. At this level, the book serves both as a historical document and as a travelogue, making Libya Diary a fitting title. Beyond this, Uday sheds light on many aspects of life in Libya, adding to the book's significance. Uday Itagi is someone with a keen interest and passion for storytelling, poetry, travel, and autobiographical narratives. Wishing that this book paves the way for many more works from him, I conclude this preface by congratulating him. Sandhyarani Renowned writer and the Former Associate Editor of Avadhi (From the Preface)