The rebels’ retaking of Ajdabiya is welcomed by the crackling of celebratory gunfire
THE BURLY rebel fighter, his mismatched military fatigues and red chequered scarf heavy with dust after days of battle, weaved in and out of the line of cars. With a wide grin, he pulled a green rag from his jacket and began cleaning his boots in an exaggerated fashion, to whoops of approval from those around him.
“This is nothing but a dictator’s flag, a terrorist’s flag,” he roared, rubbing his boots with the cloth. It was the solid-green rectangle Col Muammar Gadafy introduced as Libya’s national standard in 1977, this one plucked from a military vehicle abandoned by his forces as they fled the strategic crossroads town of Ajdabiya at the weekend.
The last town before the rebel stronghold of Benghazi, Ajdabiya fell to opposition forces for the second time early on Saturday morning, 10 days after it had been seized by Gadafy’s troops, who had been run out of the city in late February. For the previous week what had unfolded there had been a metaphor for the battle for Libya – both for the rebels’ disorganisation and for Gadafy’s determination to defend his regime. Then came the coalition airstrikes, and everything changed.
“We would wait until we heard the bombs come from the coast and then we would come to see what they had struck before continuing our fight,” said Abdul Basser, a teacher turned fighter from the eastern city of Bayda. “We could not have done this without the European planes.”
On the outskirts of the town, rebel fighters and triumphant locals clambered over the charred shells of regime tanks and armoured vehicles hit in coalition missile strikes. The air crackled with the sound of celebratory gunfire as fighters posed for their friends on top of cars. “We love you Sarkozy, we love you France,” some yelled.
Everywhere on the desert floor was the evidence of the battle – bullet casings, shrapnel, twisted metal, and empty ammunition boxes marked “The Directorate of Military Procurement of Libya, Tripoli”. Ragged shreds of military uniform lay half-buried in the sand. A lone boot hung from the branch of a tree. “It was a great battle,” said Abdul Salam Misrati, a soldier who defected early in the uprising. “I was here for eight days. God willing we will go far west towards Tripoli now that we have Ajdabiya in our hands again.”
Idris Adrissi was travelling back to the home he and his family fled several days ago, as the regime forces ran amok in Ajdabiya. “It was a very bad week but thank God we survived, and our house was not damaged,” he said, carrying his toddler grandson Mansour, whose head was decked in the colours of the pre-Gadafy flag adopted by the rebels. “Many others cannot say the same.”
He gestured at burnt out tanks nearby. “See these machines? How could anyone forgive Gadafy for using these on the people?”
A drive around the still ghostly town revealed several houses with gaping tank-inflicted or rocket holes. The main hospital, which was largely deserted, had also been hit. Inside, Saleh Musa flicked desperately through a file filled with bloody pictures of corpses received by staff.
His missing son Nabil, a vegetable seller, was last seen leaving for work last week. Nabil’s car was found burnt out, and shortly afterwards his father received a call from GenKhalid of the regime forces. “He said: ‘Your son is with us. He was on drugs and had guns and ammunition with him.’ But that is not true, my son was just doing his job,” Saleh says. “We don’t know what they did with him. I have searched everywhere and cannot find him.”
In Ajdabiya’s centre, Mustafa Mohammed had opened his small grocery store for a handful of customers who braved the streets for the first time in days. They snapped up still-warm bread baked by volunteers and distributed for free. One man talked of messages that regime force members had written on walls in his neighbourhood: “House by house, alley by alley” – a chilling echo of Gadafy’s threat to “cleanse” the cities and towns that dared defy his 42-year rule.
“Ajdabiya has been freed for the second time and it will never be Gadafy’s again,” vowed another. “We all have the Libyan revolution strong in our hearts.”