The Language Of Qaddafi

One of the last of the old unquestioned autocrats of Africa, Muammar Qaddafi, has likely abandoned Tripoli, possibly due to an injury. Like the great Napoleon in his day, who hung his loyal army out to dry in the Russian freeze once it became clear that victory was a pipe dream, so Gaddafi hides, leaving supporter and detractor alike in his wake, exploring shadows to find their dictator.  

How do you soliloquize a monster? What can be said that brings the plight of Libya into the remotest realm of sanity? These questions appear too heady for me. This is the insane thing about the world’s collective reality today: it cannot be discussed in normal terms, so far is it from normal. When you have a man in power burning his oil fields, burning his own people, creating public displays of strong arming in order to keep his people in fear, we have a situation that runs contrary to reasonable thought. A new language must be created to describe the horrors of Muammar Gaddafi. I don’t know this language, which probably speaks to my own Western innocence. Around here, our government generally has the common courtesy to hide their atrocities.

During the G20 Toronto Summit last summer, people in Canada were up in arms because when protestors started getting destructive, breaking windows and setting police cars afire in what I would argue was a futile, unproductive display, police started separating the crowd, taking people in. For a brief time human rights groups were up in arms around here, claiming that this was uncalled for treatment from the police. Just imagine the nerve: being arrested for committing a crime. This is evidence of the pampered attitude we have here in North America. We think our rights are irrefutable and never ending. Not only do we have the right to life, the right to work, the right to worship—we also have the perceived right to destroy property both public and private, and spit in the face of police. Clearly we know not the fear of the Libyan people. Clearly we have too much time on our hands.

There has been much criticism for the NATO bombing campaign against Gaddafi’s forces. As someone who identifies largely as a pacifist, I am reminded in times like these of why war exists. Unfortunate as it is, what are we to do? This is not the same as the situation in the Middle East, where the Western perception of Muslims still muddies the waters, and sometimes throws an unsavoury spin on the issue that’s entirely unnecessary. No, this is not Western egotism: we see someone torturing his people, we see people suffering, being robbed of their inherent rights to life, to work, to worship. The ethics of getting involved in another country’s politics wash away at this point. Is it not part of today’s global village that we care about people in the world, and not just those in our own backyard? If the argument is that the Libyan people can handle themselves, the argument is weak. I for one praise the actions of NATO in this situation, as the Libyan people appear to need all the help they can get, up as they are against the fire power and resources of a rich, connected autocrat.  

This situation has to end and it has to end soon. One of the most outrageous human rights tragedies in recent memory, Gaddafi’s conduct is, to say the least, reprehensible, though this word is too weak. Evil. Horrifying. Revolting. These words are all too weak, and once more I can only lament my inadequate language. But perhaps it’s not a bad thing that the English language is so limited. Perhaps we need to protect ourselves from normalizing such behaviour by vocalizing it. Gaddafi’s reign will surely soon end, but one wonders whether this search for words ever will.