Benghazi - is a survivor of the Battle of Ras Lanuf, lost city days ago and now in the hands of Qaddafi, but he, Ali, is sure to win her back soon. How many Shabab, boys fighters, Ali takes little account of reality. It's a bit 'funny' guy. It will not take it easy because that Ras Lanuf oil center, one of the most important, teetering on the Mediterranean coast, is more than two hundred kilometers, after Brega, also employed by Gaddafi, on the way to Tripoli.
And before you reach Brega, Ajdabiya'll need to get a tough nut to which they are struggling at this time the insurgents, heartened by the providential coalition aircraft flying in the sky of the UN in Libya. Ali is riding a Kawasaki motionless with the engine running in front of the Courthouse, where the National Council of Benghazi.
He has a Kalashnikov over the shoulder and shows its impatience tormenting the accelerator. In a hurry to reach the front. I ask him if in war alone, and I answered that with it the TNT. He points to the two rear pockets of the motorcycle. Are swollen. They are full of sticks of dynamite.
Dynamite for fishing in the Mediterranean, which now serves as artillery (Ali says his case) against Gaddafi. Ali should not have two decades, the older a little beard ', wearing plaid shirt and blue jeans. The army of Libya does not have a free uniform. He did not have the time to draw one.
Not even thought about it. He did not have no time to organize themselves into military-style units. It is a tattered army, with cowboy hats, leather jackets, to the Palestinian keffiyeh, mob caps, but also civilian clothes, made by anonymous people, decent man. There is everything. Some departments seem to be governed, how they can be students, workers, peasants, professionals, officials, volunteers offertisi, and put together at random, in a hurry after a few hours of training with weapons in cars, abandoned or delivered by deserters police and army.
Or have arrived from Egypt, and provided you do not know by whom. As for transportation, to travel the vast distances between towns and the other in the desert, everyone gets by as he can. Ali is a privilege. His father is a doctor. Can go to the front on his bike. But on that front and under the command of whom? I do not think even he knows it.
You will see on the spot. The officers of Gaddafi, passed to the insurgents, have tried to collect trucks and other vehicles, vans or tractors with trailers, to form columns capable of carrying tens or hundreds of Shabab. Or on which to mount machine guns and antiaircraft batteries recovered in barracks abandoned or conquered.
It is rare to find in those columns, but when you happen to doubt that the troops can carry a fight. On the screens of Al Jazeera, the Arab television (in Qatar) and followed more openly in favor of the insurrection, the militia of Libya have faces free spirited. Kalashnikov and wave and sing songs of war.
In fact, direct contact, human, their enthusiasm is genuine. But the television became grim smiles. Guerrilla so welcoming, helpful, I would say friendly, I can not find in my long memory. And I think so, just as candid and confused their insurrection. Without apparent anger. A revolution elementary, simple, without ideological sophistication.
With at least for now, one goal, to get rid of the dictatorship, unrivet Qaddafi from power, and win a freedom that resembles disseminated by television and Western websites. Not much is apparent from conversations with the leaders or fighters simple. But shabab are beardless boys, armed with a stick that on a desert road give you a piece of bread or a chocolate bar, if you think you're a refugee.
There are also Shabab trying to direct traffic. I am offering candid picture of the revolt in Libya, who also knows how to be fierce. Few African mercenaries in the service of Gaddafi, captured by insurgents, were spared. And it is in vain that I asked to see the prisoners made from 17 September onwards.
Not a good sign. The mixture of generosity and ruthlessness is typical of many insurrections. In that Libya is a particular item. The political landscape was a desert for forty years. But what is left is the fabric of tribal life. During his reign, even in moments of popularity, and certainly there were during the first twenty years, Gaddafi has a handle on the tribal landscape distributing oil money or brutally repressing.
Buying the support of clans and tribes or isolating those diehard. But in subsequent years were included in the mosaic of tribes, despite the isolation, many elements of modernity. And Saddam has appeared old, obsolete, superseded. The young Ali on the Kawasaki and the Kalashnikov over the shoulder, and his companions, are the product of the mixture: on the one hand, the hospitality and the implicit sense of tribal rivalry that can be ruthless, cruel, second aspiration to freedom, individual independence, fueled by information with fewer borders.
So the tribal nature is married with modernity. Even Jim Morrison came in its own way in the revolution of the desert. As the civil rights movement west had Morrison, so the Libyan uprising has now Adil Masha, a doctor of 37 years, once a student in London and then a guest of Qaddafi's prisons, where he composed, inspired by Morrison in fact, that which can be considered an anthem of the revolution.
Softly in the background of screams and gunshots, Masha sings: "We will be here until our pain will be gone. We will be singing live with love. Despite all sold, we will come to the summit and we will turn to heaven. We'll be together with a balm and a pen. " It was strange to hear these words on a square of Benghazi after a month of civil war.
Usually, when Gadhafi appears on TV, they explode like shouting "death immediately." 
And before you reach Brega, Ajdabiya'll need to get a tough nut to which they are struggling at this time the insurgents, heartened by the providential coalition aircraft flying in the sky of the UN in Libya. Ali is riding a Kawasaki motionless with the engine running in front of the Courthouse, where the National Council of Benghazi.
He has a Kalashnikov over the shoulder and shows its impatience tormenting the accelerator. In a hurry to reach the front. I ask him if in war alone, and I answered that with it the TNT. He points to the two rear pockets of the motorcycle. Are swollen. They are full of sticks of dynamite.
Dynamite for fishing in the Mediterranean, which now serves as artillery (Ali says his case) against Gaddafi. Ali should not have two decades, the older a little beard ', wearing plaid shirt and blue jeans. The army of Libya does not have a free uniform. He did not have the time to draw one.
Not even thought about it. He did not have no time to organize themselves into military-style units. It is a tattered army, with cowboy hats, leather jackets, to the Palestinian keffiyeh, mob caps, but also civilian clothes, made by anonymous people, decent man. There is everything. Some departments seem to be governed, how they can be students, workers, peasants, professionals, officials, volunteers offertisi, and put together at random, in a hurry after a few hours of training with weapons in cars, abandoned or delivered by deserters police and army.
Or have arrived from Egypt, and provided you do not know by whom. As for transportation, to travel the vast distances between towns and the other in the desert, everyone gets by as he can. Ali is a privilege. His father is a doctor. Can go to the front on his bike. But on that front and under the command of whom? I do not think even he knows it.
You will see on the spot. The officers of Gaddafi, passed to the insurgents, have tried to collect trucks and other vehicles, vans or tractors with trailers, to form columns capable of carrying tens or hundreds of Shabab. Or on which to mount machine guns and antiaircraft batteries recovered in barracks abandoned or conquered.
It is rare to find in those columns, but when you happen to doubt that the troops can carry a fight. On the screens of Al Jazeera, the Arab television (in Qatar) and followed more openly in favor of the insurrection, the militia of Libya have faces free spirited. Kalashnikov and wave and sing songs of war.
In fact, direct contact, human, their enthusiasm is genuine. But the television became grim smiles. Guerrilla so welcoming, helpful, I would say friendly, I can not find in my long memory. And I think so, just as candid and confused their insurrection. Without apparent anger. A revolution elementary, simple, without ideological sophistication.
With at least for now, one goal, to get rid of the dictatorship, unrivet Qaddafi from power, and win a freedom that resembles disseminated by television and Western websites. Not much is apparent from conversations with the leaders or fighters simple. But shabab are beardless boys, armed with a stick that on a desert road give you a piece of bread or a chocolate bar, if you think you're a refugee.
There are also Shabab trying to direct traffic. I am offering candid picture of the revolt in Libya, who also knows how to be fierce. Few African mercenaries in the service of Gaddafi, captured by insurgents, were spared. And it is in vain that I asked to see the prisoners made from 17 September onwards.
Not a good sign. The mixture of generosity and ruthlessness is typical of many insurrections. In that Libya is a particular item. The political landscape was a desert for forty years. But what is left is the fabric of tribal life. During his reign, even in moments of popularity, and certainly there were during the first twenty years, Gaddafi has a handle on the tribal landscape distributing oil money or brutally repressing.
Buying the support of clans and tribes or isolating those diehard. But in subsequent years were included in the mosaic of tribes, despite the isolation, many elements of modernity. And Saddam has appeared old, obsolete, superseded. The young Ali on the Kawasaki and the Kalashnikov over the shoulder, and his companions, are the product of the mixture: on the one hand, the hospitality and the implicit sense of tribal rivalry that can be ruthless, cruel, second aspiration to freedom, individual independence, fueled by information with fewer borders.
So the tribal nature is married with modernity. Even Jim Morrison came in its own way in the revolution of the desert. As the civil rights movement west had Morrison, so the Libyan uprising has now Adil Masha, a doctor of 37 years, once a student in London and then a guest of Qaddafi's prisons, where he composed, inspired by Morrison in fact, that which can be considered an anthem of the revolution.
Softly in the background of screams and gunshots, Masha sings: "We will be here until our pain will be gone. We will be singing live with love. Despite all sold, we will come to the summit and we will turn to heaven. We'll be together with a balm and a pen. " It was strange to hear these words on a square of Benghazi after a month of civil war.
Usually, when Gadhafi appears on TV, they explode like shouting "death immediately."
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