Gaddafi and a legacy of chaos

Despite the wild celebrations of his foes, there is as much to lament in the death of Muammar al-Gaddafi, as there was in his life.

Gaddafi seized power in Libya in 1969 in an officers' coup against a declining king. The charismatic young colonel inspired enthusiasm throughout the Muslim world, appearing as he did to promise a continuation of the Arab nationalist wave started by Gamal Abdel Nasser in Egypt. It was supposed to be a new era in the decadent politics of the Middle East.

Instead, before long, Gaddafi settled comfortably into the position of capricious despot. He became a byword for empty flamboyance, flying into foreign capitals with a massive entourage, a security detail composed exclusively of statuesque women, and a Bedouin tent that he would set up in a green space.

To his compatriots, it might have seemed that all of their leader's efforts went into cultivating his image. For the substance of his rule made little in the way of a positive impression. Despite Libya's vast oil wealth, the country made insufficient progress in the way of economic development. Tripoli's markets became noted for their chronic shortages of goods.

Abroad, Gaddafi was more adept at making enemies than he was at putting forth his country's national interests. By the time of his death, Libya had few real friends, and a good many foes. Even those African countries which had little stomach for the NATO intervention in the Mediterranean country scarcely did much more than raise a muted critique.

His style of government was a highly personalised one. Fearful that rival tribes might make a play for power - a fear which bore itself out in the end - Gaddafi built a state that was hardly modern. There was little in the way of a normal bureaucratic or military hierarchy, with advancement dependent on personal ties to the leader. The result is that when the rebellion broke out against his rule, the organs of the state fragmented.

Popular support appears limited

As a result, there is little left of a state of which the rebels can take control. Although it is impossible to say with any degree of confidence, popular support for the transitional ruling council appears limited, and regionally focused. The structures of a modern state - a functional civil society and a tradition of popular governance - are thin on the ground, to put it mildly.

The real danger, therefore, is that Libya might sink into chaos. Or rather, that the chaotic civil war that has resulted from Libya's participation in the Arab Spring will become more or less a permanent feature of life. Gaddafi's patronage-based economic model, which used oil wealth to create networks of supporters while stifling the emergence of an independent business class, means there are few natural poles for civil society.

Meanwhile, there are still many beneficiaries of the old regime who will undermine any attempt to reform this creaky structure. If it was bad for the majority of Libyans, it was good for the lucky minority drawn into the state's distribution networks.

The Western allies that intervened militarily to tip the balance of the revolt against Gaddafi, not to mention the Arab governments which turned against him, thus have a weighty responsibility to stay and help build a modern, functional Libya.

Western governments should have learned in Afghanistan in the 1990s the lesson that leaving a vacuum in a country after you topple your foe is only inviting in worse fate. For then, out went the Soviets (remember them?), and so out went the Americans. In came a civil war, a Taliban-imposed peace, and a man named Osama bin Laden.

They should have learned the lesson. But, faced with budget cuts and calls at home to focus on local needs, it may be a bit much to hope that they don't opt for a bit of selective amnesia. Libya may be left to an uncertain fate.

John Rapley is a research associate at the International Growth Centre, London School of Economics and Political Science. Email feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com and rapley.john@gmail.com.