FOR MONTHS the French tricolour has hung from the graffitied seafront courthouse where Libya’s revolution began in mid February.
Posters around the city declare “Thank you France” in Arabic, French and English. Locals talk of streets, schools, stadiums, cafes and even newborns being named after French president Nicolas Sarkozy. “We will never forget how France came to our aid,” says Fayza Ibrahim, recalling the relief she felt when French air strikes destroyed Gadafy’s convoy of tanks just as it entered the city in March. “Without France and Sarkozy, there would be no Benghazi today – we are sure of that.” Her sister Fawzia nods in agreement, pointing out that Paris pushed hard for intervention and was one of the first to recognise the rebels’ National Transitional Council as the legitimate representative of the people.
“All of Benghazi loves Sarkozy. France helped us at a time when no one else would.” The two sisters were among hundreds of Libyans who gathered in front of the courthouse yesterday to welcome Sarkozy and British prime minister David Cameron.
The visit, something of a victory lap for the men whose forces led the Nato intervention that helped dislodge Gadafy, initially threatened to be something of a farce. Many in Benghazi were unaware the two leaders were coming, and the few that knew were given the impression that there would be no public access for security reasons.
“People are upset that they can’t be here,” said one man. “It doesn’t make sense.” An hour before Sarkozy and Cameron’s arrival, the paltry crowd outside the courthouse consisted mostly of security forces and journalists. A harried Libyan official picked up a microphone and urged people to call friends and family and ask them to come along. He fretted that the two leaders might consider the tiny gathering a diplomatic snub.
By the time their helicopter was spotted overhead, prompting cries of Allahu Akbar, scores of Libyans waving the red, black and green pre-Gadafy flag adopted by the rebels, as well as French and British flags, had begun to fill the space. The courthouse walls were covered with portraits of those who have died in the revolution, among them Rami el-Kaleh, a young Irish-born engineer shot by a Gadafy loyalist in March. A song written by el-Kaleh has become one of the soundtracks to the uprising.
When Sarkozy and Cameron eventually arrived on the steps of the courthouse, flanked by their foreign ministers and representatives from Libya’s interim government including its head Mustafa Abdel Jalil and oil minister Ali Tarhouni, they had to shout to be heard over the cheering and ululating crowd.
“It’s great to be here in free Benghazi and in free Libya,” said Cameron, after he and Sarkozy triumphantly held Jalil’s arms aloft. “Your city was an inspiration to the world as you threw off a dictator and chose freedom.
“Col Gadafy said he would hunt you down like rats but you showed the courage of lions.” Sarkozy, who is struggling with abysmal ratings back in France, smiled indulgently at the chants of “One, two, three; Merci Sarkozy!” before promising the rapturous crowd that France, Britain and Europe “will always stand by the side of the Libyan people”. Standing behind him was a beaming Bernard-Henri Lévy, the French philosopher who played an instrumental role in France’s decision to take military action against Gadafy. After the short speeches, Jalil fixed a pin decorated in the colours of the old national flag on to the visitors’ lapels.
Nasser el-Ejnef, a British-Libyan doctor, said he was proud to see the two leaders in Benghazi. “If I had a British flag, I would wave it today. This visit reinforces their support for us now and in the future.”