Born in Libya, Hussein Elkhafaifi left the country in 1972, soon after Muammar Gadhafi took power. He attended graduate school in the U.S. and went on to join the UW faculty as an associate professor of Arabic and applied linguistics. He became an American citizen, married, and raised two children. But earlier this year, Elkhafaifi returned to Libya to be with his mother, dying of kidney failure.
Elkhafaifi arrived in Benghazi on February 17, as the streets of the Libyan city were rattling with the gunfire of a revolution he’d been waiting years to see. In an interview for The Story* on American Public Media, Elkhafaifi described some of his experiences during the visit.
What were the conditions like in the hospital where your mother was staying?
The hospital was built by the Italians when they were occupying Libya. (The Italians occupied Libya from 1911 until they lost the war in the mid-40s.) So it was really an old hospital. It was very filthy, with no equipment. Sometimes we would bring some of the medicine ourselves. Rats shouldn’t even be hospitalized in that building. With all its oil and natural gas, Libya is a rich country, and yet the things you see, the infrastructure—the education, the hospitals—it’s very embarrassing. But there was no possible way for me, at that time, to take my mother to Egypt or Jordan to find a better quality hospital.
Were you able to get where you needed to go and avoid the fighting?
When we left the hospital, my brother and I, and one of my sisters and nephew, drove home. On the way, I asked them to swing by the street with the Italian consulate, because there were demonstrations there. On the way there, we saw riot police. My nephew in the backseat was telling my brother “Turn left! Turn left!” instead of going straight. My brother and I were confused. Then we heard the riot police saying, “He’s taking pictures! He’s taking pictures!” We turned to my nephew in the back seat and saw he was taking pictures with his cellular phone. The police threw a helmet at the car--there’s actually still a mark on the car—and they started hitting us with stones. My brother sped and left the scene. That particular day, we could have been dead if we were caught.
You don’t mess with these riot police.
No, you don’t. Even driving without doing anything, you’re still a suspect. So to take pictures, you’re asking for trouble. But we made it safely home, and we were considering ourselves very lucky because we knew that people who were caught were jailed, and tortured, and many of them killed. So I wouldn’t be talking to you if we were caught that evening, especially coming with my American passport. I was fresh from the airport with all my things from Seattle. That in itself would have been…I would have been tortured more than anybody else.
Over the next couple of days, how crazy did it get in Benghazi for you?
It got so crazy, it was like… I never was in a war zone except watching it on the little screen. But it’s amazing how you adjust to a situation. Gadhafi’s troops, including mercenaries, were raising havoc and committing atrocities. His army and his tanks and his cannons and his jet fighters…it was a war zone in the true meaning of a war zone. There were times when we would not dare leave the house, when we would hear bullets in the street.
Your family’s home in Benghazi was close to a key military garrison where rebels fought the government. Did you visit the garrison?
I walked down to one of the buildings, and a mine exploded very close to me. At least 50 people died in that incident. Afterward I looked for my brother’s car. I found him five or ten minutes later, very nervous and really shaken, thinking I was one of the people killed. I got into the car, and my sister thought she saw something on my jacket. She thought the jacket was burning. When she touched the spot, she found it was a piece of flesh from one of the people who was killed. So I was that close to being killed in that incident.
What was going on inside [your head] as you watched Gadhafi’s forces in Benghazi being routed at that time?
I was going to the courthouse every day to celebrate and see the joy in the people’s faces. Walking through the city, I could see that people were very polite and courteous to each other, volunteering to clean the city, volunteering their time without pay to do everything just to be free, to breathe the freedom. Everybody was just driving and honking their horns and joining the freedom fighters. It was the most joyful moment, despite the fact that my mother passed away on the 23rd of the month.
Were you able to give your mother a good quality burial?
We did. It was very tough times, but we managed to give her a good burial. What made it easier for us was that despite the loss, my mother would have been pleased just to see this. I believe that she is dancing for joy in her soul. That’s how I feel and that’s what’s keeping me going.
At that point you had a choice. After your mother passed, you could have left Benghazi, but you chose to stay for the mourning period after her death.
I am her son. I am her oldest. Especially given the relationship with my mother, I wanted to stay through the 40th day.
I suspect, though, that there was a part of you that wanted to stay just to see what was happening with the revolution.
This was equally important, if not more. I had seen Gadhafi come to Libya and take power, and I wanted very much to see him go. I wanted to enjoy the celebration and victory. This is something I really wanted from the bottom of my heart, more than anything else. So there was nobody who could tell me to go from Libya at that time.
There must have been a period of time, when the fighting was intense, when you wouldn’t have been able to contact your wife Susan [Benson, a lecturer in the UW Department of Near Eastern Languages and Civilization] in Seattle and let her know you were okay.
There were times when I could not reach my family here in Seattle for a number of days. I was supposed to return from Tripoli, to Amsterdam and then Seattle. My family was worried. They knew Benghazi was under attack and the news was very bad. They had more access to information than I had. So I called one of my friends, a UW professor who happens to be at the consul in Benghazi. He has a satellite phone, so I asked him to contact Susan and tell her I’m doing fine.
This friend of yours actually has a fairly senior position with the rebels, doesn’t he?
That’s right. Ali Tarhouni.** And he’s still there. He teaches at the UW School of Business, but he is one of the people working for the Council now.
One of the ministers in waiting, I think they are calling them.
Yes, Minister of Finance and Petroleum.
Is it hard for you to be back in the U.S. when you know that so much is at stake in Libya now, with your friends in the thick of the fight and no one knowing how it’s going to play out?
The first few days back in Seattle, and sometimes even now, I wonder, “Why am I here?” I’ve wanted very much to go back. Yes, it is a war zone, and a seesaw, with freedom fighters making some gains only to have their hopes dashed because of the forces and military equipment Gadhafi has. Yet, with their determination, eventually the Libyan people with be victorious. How long that will be, I don’t know.
My country is at war with an evil force. When you are in the middle of the action, it’s different than watching it on TV or reading about it on the Internet. When I was there, I’d always go to the courthouse and talk and intermingle with people. We’d receive news from the front, not necessarily just from CNN or al-Jazeera. We have relatives who fight, we have friends who fight, so you’re living the victory.
We’re very enthusiastic and hopeful. I strongly believe that Gadhafi is politically dead, and that he’s just simply fighting like an injured wolf. He’s killing everybody. He doesn’t care even to offer condolences to the people who are dying to protect him. I have no doubt that the fighters will be victorious.
If one of your daughters were to say they wanted to go back to Libya to be part of this, what would you say?
I will go with her. I will have no qualms about that. I will encourage her to go and fight. It is a moment in our history that is very rare. It is something, honestly, indescribable. It is very joyful. I think the dead Libyans are celebrating with their souls.