An aerial view shows cars driving past Martyrs' Square in Tripoli on September 2, 2023. (AFP)
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Libya Lights up after Years of Power Cuts
An aerial view shows cars driving past Martyrs' Square in Tripoli on September 2, 2023. (AFP)
It's midnight just before the weekend. Traffic snarls the corniche in Tripoli, where improved electricity service has brought renewed energy to Libya's capital after years of conflict and power cuts.
Chronic electricity shortages had shaped the daily lives of Libyans since the fall of Moamar al-Gaddafi in a NATO-backed 2011 uprising.
A decade of stop-start fighting between rival armed groups followed, adding combat damage and looting to an already dilapidated grid in the North African country.
Power "outages were a disaster for my business", said Hanan al-Miladi, a 43-year-old baker who sells pastries online for weddings and other celebrations.
After 42 years in power, Gaddafi left behind obsolete infrastructure, an economy largely dependent on oil, and an underskilled workforce.
To protect the network and prevent overloads, the General Electricity Company of Libya (Gecol) resorted to widespread power cuts over the past 10 years during the peak consumption periods of summer and winter.
Until last year, outages could last 10 or even 20 hours, turning the city's streets dark and leaving residents sweltering in summer temperatures above 40 degrees Celsius (104 Fahrenheit) without air conditioning.
The most "unbearable thing was never knowing when the power would go out or for how many hours", said Miladi.
But with new management at Gecol since last year, along with a relatively stable security situation, Libyans now receive a markedly improved electricity supply.
Manager sacked
Head of the interim Government of National Unity (GNU) Abdulhamid al-Dbeibah, who is also the Gecol chairman, sacked the previous manager in July 2022.
He also made sure the power company's new boss saw through projects, including a plan for maintenance of damaged infrastructure and tight control of funds to curb corruption.
Some foreign companies have now even revived projects they had suspended in Libya.
"The situation has improved, and customers notice it," said 34-year-old butcher Moaed Zayani, who also sells frozen products.
To avoid countless sleepless nights, Libyans did adapt to the power outages.
Buying batteries costing a few hundred dinars (tens of dollars), they could power a television set and one or two lamps, as well as provide basic internet connectivity.
Those who could afford it spent thousands of dollars on buying noisy, polluting fuel-guzzling generators.
But "even with a generator, refrigerators weaken after 10 hours", said Zayani.
The roar of generators hasn't completely gone away -- it returned in a July heatwave -- but not a week goes by without Gecol announcing the arrival of new equipment at the country's roughly 20 power plants.
'Return to life'
The electricity supply has improved countrywide, although the boost to Tripoli's was the most dramatic and significant.
Electricity network stability is the foundation of the "Return to Life" campaign launched by the city government, and is slowly restoring Tripoli's soul.
Residents proudly nickname their city "Siren of the Mediterranean" for its attractive seafront.
"It's clear that administrative stability within Gecol has contributed to the stability of the power network," said Mohamad Rahoumi, 53, spokesman for a pastry brand.
"But consumers also have a role to play in reducing their consumption and paying their bills."
Libyan electricity rates are among the lowest in the region, at 0.050 dinars (one US cent) per kilowatt-hour for individuals and 0.20 dinars for businesses.
"The government's efforts are visible, but citizens still have a constant apprehension due to instability," said 34-year-old downtown bartender Abdelmalek Fathallah.
In August, clashes between two militias using rocket launchers and machine guns killed 55 people. It was Tripoli's worst unrest in more than a year.
Although such incidents are less frequent, they "can erupt at any moment", destroying infrastructure as well as people's homes, Fathallah said.
Still, the lights shining in Tripoli's medina and silhouetting the adjacent Red Castle, a 16th-century fortress built by the Spanish, symbolize hope for a brighter future.
Toufic Sultan Recalls to Asharq Al-Awsat Mutual Hatred between Hafez al-Assad and Yasser Arafathttps://english.aawsat.com/features/5122443-toufic-sultan-recalls-asharq-al-awsat-mutual-hatred-between-hafez-al-assad-and
Toufic Sultan Recalls to Asharq Al-Awsat Mutual Hatred between Hafez al-Assad and Yasser Arafat
Arafat and Assad during a celebration of the Libyan Revolution in Tripoli in 1988. (AFP)
Journalists sometimes hear shocking statements—ones they lock away in their memory, fearing their repercussions. Some are too violent, too damaging, or too costly to repeat. Others risk swift denial from those who made them.
That was the case in late January 1987, when Kuwait hosted the fifth Islamic Summit.
Among the leaders in attendance were Saudi Arabia’s King Fahd bin Abdulaziz, Syrian President Hafez al-Assad, Lebanese President Amin Gemayel, and Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) Chairman Yasser Arafat.
I had requested an interview with Arafat, and he agreed to meet. After an exchange of pleasantries, he delivered a series of startling remarks.
“What’s happening in Beirut?” he asked.
“You know the country is grappling with the aftermath of the war of the camps,” I replied.
“No, Ghassan,” he shot back. “This is not the ‘war of the camps.’ The real name is the ‘war on the camps.’ It was personally ordered by Hafez al-Assad. Regrettably, the Amal Movement, led by Nabih Berri, is carrying out the decision, aided—unfortunately—by the Lebanese Army’s Sixth Brigade.”
Arafat must have noticed my surprise at his bluntness, because he raised his voice in anger.
“Assad is trying to finish what Ariel Sharon started in the 1982 invasion but failed to achieve. This is a continuation of Sharon’s mission to eliminate the PLO,” he charged.
Veteran Lebanese politician Toufic Sultan speaks to Asharq Al-Awsat. (Asharq Al-Awsat)
Assad: A Souk Al-Hamidiya merchant
I pointed out that his accusations were grave, targeting Syria’s head of state. His frustration only grew.
“Assad is not Syria’s president,” Arafat fumed.
“He is a merchant from Souk al-Hamidiya. If only he focused on reclaiming the Golan instead of blocking Palestinian independence to please America and Israel. Mark my words: time will prove me right. Hafez al-Assad does not recognize Palestine, nor Lebanon. He loathes Iraq under the guise of hating Saddam Hussein.”
Stunned, I listened as he went on.
“What they call an ‘uprising’ within Fatah is a conspiracy orchestrated by Assad and funded by [Libyan leader Moammar] al-Gaddafi. Assad’s only dream is to turn the Palestinian cause into a bargaining chip and to dominate Lebanon.”
As Arafat’s anger subsided, our conversation shifted to other topics.
A few days ago, I met with veteran Lebanese politician Toufic Sultan—a man who carries the collective memory of two cities. Born in Tripoli, he has also witnessed Beirut’s political twists and turns, having been a close associate of Kamal Jumblatt and his son, Walid, as well as former Prime Minister Rafik al-Hariri and his son, Saad.
He maintained ties with Arafat and participated in meetings with Assad and other Arab leaders. His recollections are rich with pivotal moments, particularly from his time as deputy leader of the National Movement, a coalition of leftist and nationalist forces led by Kamal Jumblatt.
Rocky start: Assad and Arafat’s strained relationship
Arafat’s relationship with Damascus was troubled from the outset. After a bloody internal dispute within Fatah, he was briefly detained in Syria, where the defense minister at the time was Hafez al-Assad.
Following the violent clashes between Palestinian factions and the Jordanian army in 1970, Assad came to view the presence of armed Palestinian groups as a source of chaos. This belief shaped his stance toward Arafat and the Palestinian resistance movement for years to come.
Assad grew uneasy when Palestinian factions relocated to Beirut and forged a broad alliance with Lebanon’s leftist parties and nationalist forces. He closely monitored Arafat’s rise as the dominant player on the Lebanese scene.
Despite Syria’s attempts to control the Palestinian file, Damascus struggled to rein in Fatah’s overwhelming influence and Arafat’s growing stature. His power extended to Lebanon’s southern border with Israel, where he effectively held decision-making authority.
Speaking to Asharq Al-Awsat, Sultan recalled: “Hafez al-Assad never truly respected the idea of Palestinian resistance. I heard it from him directly and from those around him. His prevailing view was that there was no real resistance—just armed groups operating in coordination with intelligence agencies. The divide between Assad and Arafat was clear from the start.”
Sultan recounted an episode that underscored the deep divide between Assad and Arafat.
“One day, Assad told Arafat that Palestine did not exist—it was simply southern Syria. Arafat fired back, saying there was no such thing as Syria, only northern Palestine. There was an attempt to mask the exchange with humor, but the reality was that Assad genuinely viewed the issue through this lens,” Sultan said.
He explained that several Arab regimes sought to control the Palestinian cause, hoping to benefit from it without bearing its consequences.
“From the Baathist perspective, both in Baghdad and Damascus, there was a belief that the issue was too significant for the PLO to unilaterally determine its fate.”
Crackdown on Palestinian media
Sultan recalled a particularly tense moment in the PLO’s relationship with the Syrian regime.
“The organization operated a radio station in Syria. One day, it aired a segment quoting Arafat, including the phrase ‘There is water in my mouth’—a cryptic remark hinting at unspoken grievances. Syrian authorities responded swiftly, sending bulldozers to demolish the station and arresting several staff members.”
That night, Palestinian officials approached Sultan, urging him to speak with Kamal Jumblatt.
“Jumblatt suggested we arrange a meeting with Assad. It was Ramadan, so I contacted Hikmat al-Shihabi, then head of Syrian intelligence and our liaison,” recalled Sultan.
As the meeting neared sunset, Jumblatt sat across from Assad, with Sultan seated beside the Syrian president. The discussion quickly turned hostile toward Arafat.
“The conversation was filled with insults. Phrases like ‘We’ll bring him in’—implying they’d arrest him—and ‘We’ll flip him over’—a reference to how prisoners were beaten—were thrown around. Jumblatt, always polite and measured, stopped eating. Sensing his discomfort, Assad turned to me and asked me to intervene.”
Sultan responded: “Mr. President, the Palestinian fighters are not our schoolmates. We are committed to the Palestinian cause, and today, the PLO and Arafat represent that cause. These men have endured extreme hardships.”
Assad listened and then conceded: “Abu Rashid is right. Consider it settled, Kamal Bey.” The detainees were subsequently released.
A meeting between Kamal Jumblatt and Arafat attended by Toufic Sultan, George Hawi, Mohsen Ibrahim, and Yasser Abed Rabbo. (Courtesy of Toufic Sultan)
Deep-seated mutual hatred
Asked whether the animosity between Assad and Arafat was evident at the time, Sultan did not hesitate.
“Of course. It was well known,” he said. “One way to ingratiate oneself with Assad was to openly attack Arafat.”
He recalled a meeting with Walid Jumblatt, Assem Kanso—the head of Lebanon’s Baath Party—and Syrian Vice President Abdul Halim Khaddam.
“When Arafat’s name came up, Khaddam abruptly declared, ‘Yasser Arafat is an Israeli spy.’ I remained silent. He turned to me and asked for my opinion. I simply said, ‘I heard you.’”
Khaddam pressed further: “What do you think?”
Sultan replied: “I respect your opinion, and this is your office. But if you want my honest view, it won’t please you.”
The atmosphere surrounding Assad was particularly hostile toward Fatah. Syrian authorities used every means at their disposal to infiltrate the group.
After years of effort, they succeeded in orchestrating major defections, the most notable led by Abu Saleh, Abu Musa, and Abu Khaled al-Omleh. Damascus provided these factions with logistical support, training camps, and other resources.
“Syria had the power to shrink or amplify political movements,” remembered Sultan.
Despite knowing that geography gave Assad a strategic advantage, Arafat was not an easy adversary.
He countered Syria’s animosity with his trademark defiance—flashing the victory sign and invoking phrases like “the Palestinian bloodbath” and “the longest Arab-Israeli war.”
These references underscored the resilience of Palestinian fighters and their Lebanese allies during Israel’s 1982 siege of Beirut, led by then-Israeli Defense Minister Ariel Sharon.
At the time, many believed that Arafat’s relentless emphasis on “independent Palestinian decision-making” was aimed more at Assad than at any other party.
Damascus, in turn, saw Arafat as dismissive of the sacrifices made by the Syrian army during Israel’s invasion of Beirut.
Syrian officials also suspected that he was waiting for an opportunity to join peace negotiations with Israel—an option that had eluded him after he failed to follow in the footsteps of Egyptian President Anwar Sadat in the late 1970s.
