Libya: The rogue who came in from the cold
Foreign Affairs, May/June 2001
By Ray Takeyh
Abstract:
The recent trial of two Libyans for the 1988 bombing of Pan Am flight 103
over Lockerbie, Scotland, raises a vexing problem for U.S. policymakers:
What should Washington do when American containment policy starts to pay
off and a "rogue" state starts to reform? After years of international
isolation Col. Muammar Qaddafi is ending his belligerence and starting
to meet many of the demands placed on him by Washington and its allies.
Now President Bush must figure out how to keep the pressure on while recognizing
Libya's progress and helping re-integrate it into the world community.
Full Text:
LIBYA MENDS ITS WAYS
AS THE Bush administration struggles to define its foreign policy, with
sanctions slipping on Iraq and the prospect of missile defense raising
complications around the world, a new question has emerged: How should
Washington handle a "rogue" state that is gradually abandoning its objectionable
practices? What should the United States do when its long-standing policy
toward a maverick country such as Libya starts to pay off-and that country
finally begins to clean up its act? The question has recently become a
pressing one as, in a surprising twist of events, the often and justifiably
maligned Libyan regime of Colonel Mu'ammar Qaddafi has started to meet
international demands and redress its past crimes. How the United States
responds will serve as a test of Washington's ability to reintegrate a
reforming "rogue" into the community of nations.
On January 31, three Scottish judges deliberating at a specially convened
court in the Netherlands convicted a Libyan intelligence agent for the
1988 bombing of Pan Am flight 103. The attack, which occurred over Lockerbie,
Scotland, killed 270 passengers (including 189 Americans) and passersby,
dramatizing the threat that terrorism and its state sponsors pose to the
United States. The recent verdict has achieved a modicum of justice. But
it has only reconfirmed, rather than resolved, the quandary that Libya's
behavior raises for U.S. foreign policy. On the one hand, the verdict seems
to have validated long-held perceptions of Libya as a pariah state. But
on the other hand, the very fact that Qaddafi surrendered the suspects
suggests that international pressure has prompted subtle yet significant
changes in his foreign policy. After decades of militancy, Libya seems
to be accommodating itself to international norms.
Few have acknowledged the true dimensions of the challenge these changes
pose for Washington. President George W. Bush must deal with the remaining
Lockerbie-related issues-including how to force Tripoli to accept responsibility
for the crime-while also figuring out how to move beyond them. Successive
American administrations have proven adept at devising strategies for isolating
offending regimes such as Libya's. But Washington has thus far neglected
to plan what to do when it succeeds.
RADICAL SHEIK
MU'AMMAR QADDAFI came of age during the 1960s, as Libya and much of the
developing world battled to escape imperial domination. This bitter struggle
against colonialism shaped Qaddafi's political philosophy, infusing him
with a deep suspicion of the West. It also convinced him of the inherent
iniquity of the international order, and led him to the conclusion that
Tripoli should be unfettered by international conventions or rules. Rather,
as a vanguard revolutionary state, Libya should help liberate the rest
of the Third World and reshape its political institutions.
With Libya's vast oil wealth at his disposal and a radical ideology as
his guide, Qaddafi systematically attacked Western-especially American-interests,
as well as conservative African and Arab leaders whom he routinely derided
as "lackeys of imperialism." Libya lent its support to liberation movements,
secessionists, and terrorists from the Philippines to Argentina, embarking
on a course that culminated in the Pan Am explosion.
Then, in the 1990s, certain events pressed Qaddafi toward a pragmatic redefinition
of his nation's interests. The collapse of the Soviet Union deprived Libya
ofits main counterweight to the United States and exposed it to the kind
of unified international pressure that was once impossible. As Qaddafi
became isolated, his ideology and methods came to seem hopelessly anachronistic.
The colonel's anti-imperialism was eclipsed as the nonaligned bloc turned
its attention to securing its position in the global economy. While Qaddafi
remained rigid, much of the rest of the Arab world came to terms with Israel
and grudgingly accepted the need for an American security umbrella. Libya's
continuous interference in the internal affairs of other African states,
meanwhile, estranged Qaddafi from that continent, the liberation of which
he had often trumpeted as one of his highest priorities. Qaddafi thus spent
the 1990s on the sidelines while his onetime revolutionary compatriots-leaders
such as Nelson Mandela and Yasir Arafat-were feted in Washington and in
European capitals. To remain relevant, Qaddafi realized, he had to accept
the passing of the age of revolutions and the arrival of the age of globalization.
Another reason for Qaddafi's shift was the much-derided U.N. sanctions
regime imposed on Libya after the Lockerbie bombing. The colonel had long
believed that Libya's oil wealth and commercial appeal would undermine
any cohesive opposition to his revolutionary excesses. But the Lockerbie
sanctions, enacted by the United Nations in 1992, shattered that conviction.
The United States managed to convince even states with close economic ties
to Libya, such as Italy and Germany, to support the sanctions as a way
to force Qaddafi to hand over the bombing suspects. As a senior Libyan
official admitted, "when America imposed an embargo, the whole world followed
it." For the first time, Qaddafi's militancy incurred a palpable cost.
Prior attempts to coerce Libya had proven ineffective: U.S. air strikes
in 1986 only enhanced Qaddafi's domestic power and led to his lionization
in the developing world. But the U.N. sanctions -- particularly the prohibition
on the sale of oil equipment and technology and a ban on financial transfers-hit
Qaddafi where it hurt the most, undermining his government's ability to
extract and export its main source of revenue. Libya estimates that the
sanctions have deprived its economy of $33 billion, whereas the World Bank
puts the damage at the lower but still daunting sum of $18 billion. Whatever
their actual cost, the basic efficacy of the sanctions demonstrated Libya's
special vulnerability to such multilateral coercion. Libya's economic vitality
and its government's popularity depend on access to international petroleum
markets. Thus the same resource that gave Qaddafi the power to upset the
international order also let the world community undermine him.
Already, in the 1980s, low oil prices had sparked an economic recession
from which Libya could not escape. The sanctions of the 1990s then exacerbated
the woes of an economy that was plagued with 30 percent unemployment and
50 percent inflation rates. Tripoli embarked on an austerity program, freezing
salaries and reducing subsidies, but this proved dangerous for a regime
that depended for its survival on buying the population's acquiescence.
Demonstrations in urban areas soon erupted, as did at least two military
coup attempts and an Islamic insurgency in the eastern provinces.
As Libya approached the brink of chaos in the mid-1990s, an extraordinary
dispute broke out in the higher echelons of the regime. The pragmatists
in the bureaucracy-led by the late General Secretary Umar al-Muntasir and
Energy Minister Abdallah Salim al-Badri -- stressed the need for structural
economic reforms and international investments to ensure Libya's long-term
economic vitality and political stability. The hard-liners -- including long-time
Qaddafi confidant Abdelssalem Jalloud -- wanted to continue defying the West,
for they saw Libya's past radicalism as the basis of the regime's legitimacy.
As the debate raged, Qaddafi at first remained strangely silent, unwilling
or unable to make a decision. But in 1998, the colonel seemed to resolve
the debate in favor of the pragmatists. A series of articles in the official
daily 41-Jamahiriya began to criticize the intransigence of the hard-liners
and their inability to recognize prevailing global realities. The Revolutionary
Committees -- informal groups of zealots, drawn from the lower echelons
of Libyan society and indoctrinated in radical ideology, that served as
the hard-liners' power base and had dominated Libyan politics since their
creation in the late 1970s -- were purged and relegated to the margins of
society. Meanwhile, the pragmatists were granted an all-important advantage:
proximity to the colonel. "We cannot stand in the way of progress," announced
Qaddafi. "No more obstacles between human beings are accepted. The fashion
now is the free market and investments." In April 1999, Qaddafi accepted
U.N. demands for the trial of the Lockerbie suspects in the Netherlands,
announcing shortly thereafter that "the world has changed radically and
drastically. The methods and ideas should change, and being a revolutionary
and a progressive man, I have to follow this movement."
In the last few years, Qaddafi has begun to offer a new vision for Libya.
In a September 2000 speech commemorating the Libyan Revolution, he not
only proclaimed an end to his long-standing anti-imperialist struggle but
also suggested that it was time for former antagonists to start cooperating
with one another. In a series of seminars and speeches, the colonel outlined
his new ideas to his restive constituents, declaring, "Now is the era of
economy, consumption, markets, and investments. This is what unites people
irrespective of language, religion, and nationalities." The hoary policies
of subsidizing rebellions and plotting the overthrow of sovereign leaders
have become unsustainable in the era of economic interdependence -- even for
oil-rich Libya. As a sign of the times, the regular procession of visitors
to the colonel's tent no longer includes guerrilla leaders and terrorists,
but instead features investment consultants and Internet executives.
Qaddafi has also begun to shift his international focus toward Africa.
After decades of involvement in the Middle East, in March 1999 the colonel
proclaimed his new orientation with a typical flourish, announcing, "I
have no time to lose talking with Arabs. ... I now talk about Pan-Africanism
and African unity." There is a certain logic to this new focus; after all,
the Organization of African Unity (OAU) was the only regional group to
defy the U.N. sanctions on Libya, and Nelson Mandela, Africa's elder statesman,
was instrumental in resolving the Lockerbie crisis. While Arab politicians
equivocated during the 1990s, African leaders warmly embraced Qaddafi.
Mandela even hailed him as "one of the revolutionary icons of our time."
Libya's new Africa policy has become the first test of Qaddafi's evolving
ideology and newfound moderation. Previously, Libya had tried to export
revolution through Africa by subsidizing insurgencies and destabilizing
local states. Now Qaddafi seems to have abandoned his radical heritage.
He has focused on mediating crises while claiming a place at the African
roundtable. The colonel has embarked on a high-profile diplomatic campaign
to settle conflicts in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, the Horn of
Africa, Sudan, and Sierra Leone. Libya has also signed bilateral trade
and cultural pacts with Niger, Senegal, and South Africa, while extending
aid to Ethiopia, the Ivory Coast, Mali, Tanzania, Uganda, and Zimbabwe.
Tripoli has even demonstrated an uncharacteristic appreciation for multilateral
institutions. Not only has it participated constructively in various regional
forums, but it has hosted an extraordinary OAU meeting to press for the
creation of a "United States of Africa" as a means to promote solidarity
and economic integration. Most of these initiatives have yet to produce
substantial practical results. But their importance lies in the fact that,
after decades of attempting to subvert Africa's state system, Qaddafi is
now making positive contributions to the continent's political cohesion
and economic rehabilitation.
THE ROAD TO REDEMPTION
QADDAFI'S philosophical evolution and his African endeavors have sparked
some interest in the international community. But further changes must
occur before rapprochement with the United States will be possible. Three
problems in particular loom large: Libya's support for terrorism, its attempts
to acquire weapons of mass destruction (WMD), and its opposition to the
Arab-Israeli peace process.
American objectives in Libya have never been explicitly directed at toppling
Qaddafi. This is explained by the fact that the colonel's adventurism,
while disturbing to Americans, has never actually destabilized fundamental
U.S. interests. This puts Qaddafi in a very different category from that
occupied by a leader like Saddam Hussein, who twice invaded his neighbors
and continues to seek hegemony over the Persian Gulf Qaddafi has also shown
himself to be more susceptible to international pressure than Saddam. Successive
American administrations have stated that they would welcome resumed relations
with Libya if Qaddafi would just abandon his provocative behavior. Now
he may finally be doing just that.
Although Libya has a long history of supporting outlawed organizations
such as Italy's Red Brigades and the Irish Republican Army, Qaddafi has
recently severed his links to his terrorist clients and abandoned terrorism
as an instrument of policy. In 1999, for example, Libya expelled the Abu
Nidal organization from its territory and broke its ties to other radical
Palestinian groups such as the Popular Front for Liberation of Palestine-General
Command and Palestinian Islamic Jihad. In addition, in accordance with
an Arab League agreement, Libya has extradited Islamist militants and suspected
terrorists to Egypt, Yemen, and Jordan. Once-notorious training camps have
been closed down, and terror groups have been told to find other sources
of arms and supplies.
Apart from terrorism, U.S. policymakers have also been concerned by Libya's
attempts to acquire WMD. Here there seem to be fewer signs of improvement.
Since the April 1999 suspension of the U.N. arms embargo, Libya has sought
to modernize its decrepit armed forces by acquiring advanced weapons from
North Korea and Russia. And the CIA recently announced that "Tripoli has
not given up its goal of establishing its own offensive [chemical weapons]
program."
Although Libya has made progress toward acquiring chemical weapons, it
has not yet managed to become a nuclear threat. As the Pentagon describes
it, Libya's nuclear project "lacks well-developed plans, expertise, consistent
financial support, and adequate foreign suppliers." And Libya's nuclear
infrastructure is limited to a Soviet-made research reactor operating under
the auspices of the International Atomic Energy Agency.
Washington should recognize that Tripoli's attempts to acquire WMD make
a certain kind of sense. After all, Libya is richer than its neighbors
but is sparsely populated and has long, unsettled borders. The country's
lucrative oil fields have, at various times, been coveted by neighbors
such as Algeria. And Libya's unsteady relations with Egypt have caused
sporadic tension on Libya's eastern flank. Little wonder, then, that Tripoli
has chosen to build up its air power, missile force, and chemical weapons
in order to deter potential adversaries with larger armies. Both of these
factors-the rudimentary level of Libya's WMD program and the genuine basis
for its regional insecurity -- suggest that it might be possible to persuade
Tripoli to abandon its plans for WMD. U.S. diplomacy should persuade Libya
that its WMD projects will only precipitate a regional arms race that will
exacerbate, rather than alleviate, its vulnerability. Even if Qaddafi remains
unpersuaded, Libya's primitive facilities and poor technological infrastructure
ensure that the country will not become a nuclear threat anytime soon.
A third major obstacle in U.S.-Libyan relations has been Qaddafi's ferocious
rejection of efforts to settle the conflict between Israel and its neighbors.
But here again Libya seems to have undergone a conversion in the past few
years. Although the colonel still makes shrill calls for the "battle of
the century" to end the "Zionist occupation," on a practical level Libya
has yielded to American demands by terminating its support for rejectionist
Palestinian groups and accepting the Palestinian Authority's right to negotiate
with Israel. In the past, the kind of violence now occurring in the West
Bank and Gaza would have led to the dispatch of Libyan arms and aid to
Palestinian militants. This time, Qaddafi has limited himself to sporadic
rhetorical fulmination and avoided tangible measures that would add further
strain to an already tense situation. Qaddafi may never cross the existential
barrier that some other Arab leaders have traversed by recognizing Israel.
But in practice, he has already extricated Libya from Arab-Israeli confrontations.
Libya's ongoing reintegration into the world community has already started
to pay off, and the rewards it has won from reclaimed trade partnerships
have generated a desire within the country to come to terms with the Americans
as well. Unlike Iran, which refuses official contact with the United States,
Libya is eager to open a diplomatic dialogue. Abuzed Dorda, Libya's U.N.
envoy, has said, "I expect that we will sit down with the Americans and
put the past behind us." Even Qaddafi, in his own eccentric manner, has
made overtures to the new American president, stressing, "I believe that
George W. Bush will be nice. As a person he is not malicious or imperialist.
I believe that he attaches importance to the United States and does not
have world ambitions." A modest level of trade has already quietly developed
between the two states. Last year, Libya took advantage of the newly eased
sanctions on food and medicine to purchase 50,500 tons of wheat and 26,100
tons of corn from the United States. In a further, subtle signal to the
United States, last November Libyan General Secretary Mubarak al-Shamikh
dismissed reports that U.S. oil companies' assets in Libya have been nationalized
and pledged that American investments are "protected and waiting for them
to return." All of this suggests that a flexible yet determined American
policy toward Libya stands a good chance of convincing Qaddafi to make
further pragmatic adjustments.
NEW WINE IN NEW BOTTLES
THE CHALLENGE that Libya poses for the Bush administration is how to acknowledge
Qaddafi's partial rehabilitation while continuing to press for further
changes. Until now, the United States has relied on a range of unilateral
and coercive measures (such as sanctions) to contain Libya. But in the
aftermath of the Lockerbie trial, with U.N. sanctions having been suspended,
the United States can hardly isolate Libya on its own. Unless it adds incentives
to the mix, Washington will have little in the way of leverage.
Unlike the United States, Europe has responded to Libya's overtures with
uncritical dialogue and greatly increased trade. But whereas U.S. policy
may be too unyielding, the European model goes too far in the other direction.
By warmly welcoming Libya back into the international fold, Europe has
rewarded (or, at best, ignored) Qaddafi's continued refusal to accept basic
responsibility for the Pan Am bombing and turned a blind eye to his noncompliance
with other international demands. Still, since Europe is Libya's foremost
trading partner and the market for nine-tenths of its oil exports, the
success of any U.S. policy will depend on European compliance and support.
A U.S.-Libyan dialogue should start by focusing on the remaining U.N. demands
relating to Lockerbie -- namely, that Tripoli pay compensation to the families
of the victims and formally renounce terrorism. For symbolic reasons and
to deter future crimes, these two points should be made non-negotiable
prerequisites to any softening of U.S. policy toward Libya. Fortunately,
the chances for success on these issues are good. Despite Libya's refusal
to compensate Americans for state-sponsored crimes, recent history suggests
it may eventually offer restitution. In 1999, for example, after a court
in France convicted six Libyan intelligence officials for the 1989 bombing
of a French UTA flight over West Africa, Libya paid out $25.7 million in
reparations. Now, in exchange for both direct compensation and a Libyan
admission of responsibility, Washington should consider removing Tripoli
from its list of state sponsors of terrorism, rescinding its ban on American
citizens' travel to Libya, and unfreezing the country's assets in the United
States.
A similar approach should be used to dissuade Libya from acquiring WMD.
The chances that Libya will manage to assemble nuclear weapons anytime
soon are remote, but Qaddafi's pursuit of chemical weapons and delivery
systems remains a threat. The United States should therefore mount a concerted
diplomatic campaign involving not just Libya but also Europe. The political
cost of the five-year-old Iran-Libya Sanctions Act (ILSA) has been considerable
and its impact on deterring investments in "rogue" states negligible. The
Bush administration should thus allow ILSA to expire in August in exchange
for a European ban on the export to Libya of sensitive technology.
In a similar vein, the United States should start talking to Russia about
preventing arms sales to Libya. Since these sales have been stymied by
long-outstanding Libyan debts for prior purchases, the Russians may be
more inclined to cooperate here than they have been on arms sales to Iran.
In the end, however, keeping WMD technology out of Libyan hands will require
a complex, broad-based, and multilateral policy.
In addition to coordinating international measures, the United States should
also use its own set of incentives to get Tripoli to acquiesce to various
WMD treaties. Libya has already signed the nuclear Non-proliferation
Treaty. It should be pressed to sign the Chemical Weapons Convention as
well, and to permit the inspections that treaty mandates. In exchange for
such compliance, the United States could stop blocking Libya's access to
international capital markets, establish low-level diplomatic representation,
and allow U.S. investment in Libya's non-oil sectors. The flow of investments
into Libya need not be limited to the energy sector: Tripoli is also trying
to refurbish its airline and financial services industries and its national
infrastructure, and these projects offer lucrative opportunities for U.S.
firms.
RIGHTING THE ROGUE
IT MAY TAKE a number of years before U.S.-Libyan diplomatic relations are
fully restored at the ambassadorial level and American oil firms return
to Libya. Until then, the United States should monitor Libya's compliance
with international standards and offer concessions only after judging Tripoli's
record. The current administration should aim simply to establish a framework
that can be used for the gradual resumption of U.S.-Libyan ties.
American policy, furthermore, should not try to directly alter Libya's
international orientation. Instead, it should provide various inducements
and pressures designed to help Libya move along its own path of moderation.
This incremental normalization would reward constructive Libyan conduct
and punish intransigence. It would also have the advantage of reconstituting
international -- particularly European -- cooperation, an essential part of any
Libya policy.
Most important, the Bush administration ought to accept the possibility
of "rogue" states' rehabilitation. U.S. policy should employ a full complement
of economic, political, and diplomatic tools not just to frustrate these
states' nefarious designs but also to show them that, should they temper
their policies, they can be reintegrated into global society. The Libyan
case can provide a model for how to deal with a revolutionary regime that
has grown weary of its isolation and ostracism. The United States should
not waste the opportunity. Libya -- and the world -- will be watching.
Ray Takeyh
RAY TAKEYH is a Soref Research Fellow at the Washington Institute for Near East Policy.
foreignaffairs.org |
