Radio Free Libya is using the airwaves to mobilise citizens, writes MARY FITZGERALDin al-Marj, eastern Libya
THE TINNY voice comes crackling over the airwaves:
“This is the sound of Radio Free Libya, supporting the people’s struggle.
“What follows are announcements calling on people not to spread rumours that might damage morale and fatwas from clerics urging shopkeepers not to raise the price of food.
Spliced in between are maudlin patriotic songs.
“Long live our country, our beautiful country,” a female singer warbles.
The station is one of several that have popped up across “liberated” eastern Libya, after the opposition took over local government offices that contained radio stations devoted to broadcasting propaganda extolling the regime of Muammar Gadafy.
Here in al-Marj, a small town in the region known as Jebel al-Akhdar (Green Mountain), the local affiliate of Radio Free Libya is housed in the dank basement of what was once the regime’s area headquarters.
Outside, a large portrait of Gadafy has been shot up and torn to shreds. Armed men fire in the air amid loud cheering and yelling.
The ground floor of the building was burnt out as regime loyalists fled.
“They set it alight themselves because they didn’t want it to fall into the people’s hands,” says Abdul Monem Muftah, who works at the station.
“The head of Gadafy’s committee in the town is in hiding.”
Downstairs the dingy walls are covered with slogans that have become commonplace across the east since the regime’s presence collapsed in the face of a popular uprising.
“Victory to the people of the revolution,” reads one.
“Either we die with dignity or we live with dignity,” reads another. “Gadafy – you will last less than a minute more.”
The station, which organisers say reaches more than 15,000 people within a 50km radius of al-Marj, was commandeered by the opposition in the early days of the uprising.
“Our first broadcasts were calling on soldiers not to fire on unarmed protesters and telling civilians to respect private property and not engage in looting,” says Muftah.
“Now we are using the radio to mobilise people to distribute food and medical supplies, and to urge them not to panic.”
Many at the station are still getting used to the fact they can speak freely after four decades of censorship.
“There was so much fear before,” says Sanoussi Sharif, a 27-year-old who also acts as an imam at the local mosque.
“Now we have freedom, and we can say anything we want.”
One middle-aged man in an overcoat proffers a list of what he says are the demands of ‘Free Libya’.
These include a new constitution; government “by the people for the people”; protection of human rights; and an independent judiciary and media.
At the end of the handwritten list comes a slogan:
“Freedom for us and oil for the West” – a point the Free Libya man insists on expanding upon for our benefit.
“There is no reason why the two can’t be compatible,” he insists.
“This revolution we started is a people’s revolution and therefore there is nothing to fear from what comes out of it.”