A third irremovable Arab president has fallen. Muammar Qaddafi’s final fate, like that of Yemeni President Ali Abdullah Saleh currently in Saudi, recovering from an attempted assassination, is still unknown. But one thing is pretty sure: like Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali and Husni Mubarak, Colonel Qaddafi is the third political victim of the Arab spring. Quite a deed, if one remembers the proliferation of de facto monarchical republics in the Arab Middle East in the very recent past.

While there is much to rejoice in this news, many questions arise concerning the political and military developments of these last months in Libya. In this post, I will focus on the media coverage in and around Tripoli. Next week, I will analyse the emerging Libyan leadership.

It is striking to see how the most recent military developments in Tripoli are mostly portrayed as a “rebel-driven campaign.” To be sure, we are told of how NATO allies coordinate aerial attacks in their support for this the apparently final offensive, but very little is said about the active role that Qatar, France and England have taken in arming, equipping and training the Libyan rebel forces (not to mention intelligence gathering and strategic planning). It is, in fact, probably as much a victory of the Transitional National Council (TNC) as it is of the countries which have thrown in their lots in the hope of securing a substantial share of the (oily) pie and to obtain a prominent role as future regional leaders. Yet, very little has been said about the active role of the U.S. in the unfolding events. “Leading from behind,” Obama’s unique strategy, is perhaps more of a media performance than a military reality. The U.S. has been very much involved.

One can find evidence that the USA is not waiting, arms crossed, to see what will happen in the Cyrenaica and Tripolitana. An article in yesterday’s New York Times reveals pro-active American involvement in planning the future of a post-Qaddafi Libya:

With the lessons of postwar Iraq very much in mind, the Obama administration and its allies oversaw the drafting of “a transition road map” that creates an interim governing authority to fill the vacuum created by the monolithic Qaddafi regime until elections are held.

The road map did not specify dates or a timetable for the election. But the officials said the rebel leaders had consistently pledged to have an open, inclusive government. They have also pledged not to pursue vendettas or a “de-Baathification-style” purge of the political and security bureaucracy, something that fueled the insurgency in Iraq.

“We try to learn lessons,” a senior administration official said. “That’s why there was such as emphasis on post-Qaddafi planning. It wasn’t strictly because of April 2003, but that definitely was on people’s minds.”

A road map, as we know from the Palestinian context, is not just stale scenario mapping out different possible political outcomes. It can be a guide, at times even a semi-binding document for international actors. Even if the quote above does not clarify who exactly drafted this transition road map, the Obama Administration clearly is taking an active role in defining the next moves in Libya.

Thus, one has to recognize the sanitized media covering of the ongoing military campaign. Make no mistake: this has been the case throughout the six months of Libyan coverage. Now, the coverage is only about a rebel-driven campaign, obfuscating the active involvement of external actors. Then, in the first three or four weeks after the March UN Resolution installing a no-fly zone, the media hardly reported on civilian casualties, nor did they show pictures of dead people (the turning point seems to have been the deadlock over the Misrata siege when pictures and stories of the human drama unfolding in the Mediterranean city gave a different, more personalized account of the military operations).

We are thus confronted – again – with the politics of visibility. One can discern different scopic regimes granted to different sets of actors. The involvement of Libyans themselves needs to be seen on the front stage (or they need to be projected as being on the driver’s seat), while that of international actors should only be mentioned in the backstage. There is a logic to this, obviously, if we think of the American context. Politically, it is not a good idea for American politicians to be seen or perceived as having an active role in defining the future of Libya. Instead, one should only react, or act as far as possible away from the (media) spotlight.

There are many instances of this politics of (in)visibility. Last March, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton met with Mahmoud Jibril, the head of the TNC, beyond the public eye. The New York Times reported the meeting in these terms:

Mrs. Clinton met the opposition leader, Mahmoud Jibril, at her hotel here after attending a dinner with foreign ministers of the countries of the Group of 8, who discussed ways to increase pressure on Colonel Qaddafi’s government, including imposing a no-flight zone over Libyan territory. Mrs. Clinton and Mr. Jibril met for 45 minutes but did not appear publicly out of concern for his security, an aide said.

Security was certainly an issue on that occasion, but there were also sophisticated political calculations of American officials to not be seen too openly with what was then an embryonic alternative leadership in Libya. The future will tell us how this new emerging leadership will manage to fulfil or betray the hopes of popular democratic openings.

Remember Iman al-Obeidi? March 26^th was a routine day in the Libyan War. NATO was bombing Libyan military installations and, for its part, the Libyan military was attacking rebel fighters. Most of the world understood that Muammar Qaddafi was no democrat nor was he a threat to global peace. Once again, as in Iraq, the West was attacking a secular Arab dictator in the name of preventing the spread of world jihad. But by late March, the thrill was gone. The allied attacks had become, frankly, mundane. Another day, another ton of ordinance.

And then rushing in from the Arab streets, Iman al-Obeidi appeared. Al-Obeidi appeared at Tripoli’s Rixos Hotel, a gathering place for foreign journalists, and began screaming that she had been raped and tortured by Libyan soldiers. She grabbed the attention of the world, and became something of a cover girl for CNN.

I emphasize that I lack independent knowledge of whether her story, horrific as it is, is true or false. If I were a real commentator – rather than one who plays one on the Internet – my lack of knowledge could be a hurdle. But, then, as I think of it, none of the foreign journalists, even those who sponsored her story, has much more knowledge than I. How would one know? The correspondents at the Rixos have the drama of her presence, but others are as blind as I am.

The history of war is a history both of atrocity and of atrocity stories. The latter, all too common, are used to gin up public support for battle, creating an intense and potent hatred for a demonic foe. They create an enemy so vile that the deaths of our own soldiers are justified. The separation of true and false proves difficult to ascertain, even when the atrocity stories falsely accuse actual bad guys. It wasn’t so long ago – the first Gulf War actually – that Americans were told the grisly and chilling account of Saddam’s troops unplugging the isolettes of premature babies in Kuwait City. We later learned that it never happened. The story was propaganda through and through, the heady work of masters of the tall tale. Even the Nazis were falsely accused by their enemies – no Jewish soap or lampshades – although there were enough actual dismal atrocities to make the rounds.

So when I watched Ms. Al-Obeidi rush into the journalist scrum, I felt the glorious frisson of doubt. A tingling of suspicion. I noticed that as she was screaming, she was seated. Typically those who are emotionally unconstrained – hysterical – will stand and shout, but not Ms. Al-Obeidi who was seated as if she had ordered a glass of mint tea. But perhaps skepticism has the best of me. I have been accused of an overabundance of incredulity. It comes with the territory for those who examine hearsay. Like so many dramatic rumors, as I describe in The Global Grapevine, the story seemed too good to be false. It was just the kind of story that deserves our doubt. As rumor scholars starting with Gordon Allport and Tamotsu Shibutani emphasize, rumors emerge from a nexus of importance, ambiguity, and the absence of critical ability. It appears that Ms. Al-Obeidi is a Libyan law school graduate, a sophisticated young woman, who alleged that she was attacked and serially raped by fifteen thuggish Libyan soldiers. Were this not sufficient to boil our blood, she claims that they also urinated and defecated on her, and she showed nasty bruises, scars, and scratches. The story if true suggests that these soldiers have much to answer for. Her account plays off the very real history of rape in times of war. But its piquant drama also allows one to wonder whether it was a performance designed to capture the world’s attention.

After her tale, she was hustled off by Libyan authorities, who claimed that she was mentally ill, a thief, or a prostitute. These security forces were surely the least effective advocates for their own virtue until Anthony Weiner tweeted himself to prominence. In time the Libyan government freed her, and she was interviewed by CNN, the Associated Press, and National Public Radio where she graphically described her torture. Eventually she landed in Tunisia, Qatar, back to rebel-controlled Libya, Romania, and finally on June 4^th, Hillary Clinton granted her asylum in the United States, where she has remained quiet.

I stop short of proclaiming that some black-op intelligence service stands behind her. If I learned this tomorrow, I would not be shocked, but today I have no evidence. What I do have evidence of is the fact that when nations go to war, they search for the worst crimes imaginable with which to demonize their enemies, a point that the great communications theorist Harold Lasswell emphasized. As Lasswell pointed out, “Not bombs nor bread, but words, pictures, songs, parades, and many similar devices are the typical means of making propaganda.” It is all in the image. The history of military conflicts is replete with atrocity stories. Nations create a practical epistemology to permit them to do what they wish, bringing along their citizens. Defecating on a bright, young rape victim – the rare Arab professional woman – seems to be such a claim to heat the soul of revenge and to justify mounting attacks.

It is said that if you give a boy a hammer everything becomes a nail. If you give a scholar of falsehoods an atrocity, it becomes a rumor. But, in truth, nails and rumors are real. And if you give generals authority to fight, they find wars that have no need to be fought.