29 Apr 2011

Wedding day in Misrata

The rebels, like all armies the world over, want to have it all ways. They want to appear at a press conference with simultaneous translation and graphics presentation and talk about victory over government forces in Misurata.

But in the warm light of day in the desert sun, they then have to admit that you cannot yet wander along Tripoli Street because it is too dangerous. A couple of random shells whine in close – but not too close – to underline that point.

All day today a long duel of incoming artillery rounds and outgoing rocket-propelled grenades and heavy machinegun rounds has been rumbling and cracking across  the southern suburbs.

Yesterday we had all this to the west. A doctor told me six people had been killed and 22 injured in that firefight. We have no word of what the tally is today.

Back in the silent ruins of the Tripoli Street district a man suddenly emerges from the rubble crunching the broken glass underfoot, much as men suddenly do emerge randomly from rubble the world over.

He blinks in the brght sunlight, salaams and it is explained that we are British: “Ha ha,” he says, “British Royal wedding today but Gaddafi not invited.”

It is considered too dangerous to proceed any further along Tripoli Street itself today. The road runs, in fact, out to the airport but that, and all the surrounding territory remains firmly in government hands.

So matters are far from resolved here in Misrata and the rebels’ proclamation to the world of victory seems a tad premature. They know very well that fighting in built-up areas is one thing, taking the fight to government forces across open ground outside the city will be quite another matter, NATO or no NATO.

This afternoon, to the south, smoke rises in a vast pall over much of the city. It seems incoming artillery shells have hit a deserted shoe factory and that will now join the long list of ruined buildings in this town, once famed across Libya for its neat, palm-lined boulevards and coffee houses laid out during the days of Italian imperialism and later fascism.

Much needs rebuilding in the centre of town, though by the seaside in the northern suburb the traffic flows freely, shops are open and well-stocked with food and beyond the checkpoints at road junctions and that smoke overhead, you’d be hard pushed to realise that this is a town still besieged on every side by the sea itself.

Oh – and about the sea itself. NATO has just confirmed it’s apprehended government forces attempting to mine the sea around the port, the only way out of here. Personally I want to stay in Misrata for some time to come. That wish might be nearer being granted than I had imagined.