The Battle for Tripoli: Fighting for the Streets of the Libyan Capital - SPIEGEL ONLINE - News - International

André Liohn / DER SPIEGEL

Tripoli has fallen. Or has it? As rebels continue fighting to topple Libyan autocrat Moammar Gadhafi, the streets in the capital have become chaotic. Some are celebrating the arrival of the rebels while others are firing at them from the rooftops.

The fighters lie in the shade of plane trees in a small park along Tripoli's coastal road, just a few hundred meters from the beach. The rebels are tired and filthy, their t-shirts cling to their sweaty bodies under the scorching sun. They need a break from war. But they won't rest long -- a few men are already cleaning their Kalashnikov rifles again, clicking new rounds into the chamber.

Among them stands a man who seems out of place in his clean striped shirt, trousers and brown business shoes. Long before the fighting broke out, he was a military drill instructor, but then worked as a lawyer for many years. At 57, he is much older than the other men. Using his real name would be too dangerous, so they call him by his nom de guerre, Commander Milut. Moammar Gadhafi's fighters will likely lose this war, but for the moment, they are still have to power to hunt down families of the rebels.

Roughly 120 men strong, the rebels in the park call themselves the Jadu brigade, because many of them come from the small city of Jadu in the Nafusa Mountains, where most of the country's Berber population lives. Since the beginning of the uprising against Gadhafi in February, the men from the rugged mountains southwest of the capital city have been fighting from village to village. Making their way down into the desert they shot their path to the ocean and to Tripoli. These men from the mountains are the main force helping to take over the city, which is likely to fall soon. But fighting is still fierce on the city's streets.

Commander Milut trained most of the rebels. He knows war, having fought in the Chadian-Libyan conflict and for Gadhafi's army in Lebanon. Most of his soldiers are hardly over the age of 20, and some can't even grow a beard no matter how hard they try.

He is arguing with some of his fighters, who have encircled him. They are shouting, but he remains calm. Rebel troops don't function like a real army -- there are commanders, but each rebel fights by choice and doesn't necessarily take orders. Still, they can be advised and guided.

Anxious to End the Conflict

Some of Milut's people want to immediately attack Gadhafi's fortress Bab al Aziziya, where the heaviest gunfire can be heard. But the commander, who hasn't yet lost any of his men in the fighting, would prefer to play it safe and send a small group out to scout the way.

"The boys are tired and stressed, they're exhausted and want to bring this to an end quickly," he says. He understands their impatience, he says, but his fighters can't simply wade into a firefight. It's important to coordinate with other groups and be cautious, particularly as the end draws near, he says to quiet them.

Right now Tripoli is a witches' cauldron -- chaotic, wild, and extremely dangerous. Rebels have a number of areas under control, including one in the city center where a four-lane street has drawn crowds of revellers. "Shafshoufa maalechi," they yell repeatedly. It means "Get lost, mop-head," and refers to Gadhafi and his tousled hair. It seems as though all of Tripoli was waiting to be freed, but the scene is misleading. The other side is hard to see at first, but they are there and they are fighting.

A large number of sharpshooters pick out their targets from atop tall buildings, killing both rebels and civilians alike. Women and children are falling suddenly, with bullets in their heads.

The sharpshooters don't seem squeamish. In a house along the coastal road there are three dead soldiers. Two were shot, but the third had his throat cut. That's more than war -- it's also retribution.

No Mercy For Gadhafi's Goons

Other Gadhafi soldiers have holed up in machine gun nests, taking aim at bridges, streets and squares. Milut wants to know where they are before his brigade approaches. "I can't just send my boys under fire," he says. "I know almost all of their parents." Before the war Jadu had just 11,000 residents.

As far as Milut is concerned, the war has been won and it makes no sense for the sharpshooters to go on fighting. They could give up, toss away their weapons, take off their uniforms and disappear into the chaos. Instead they continue killing. But they are nothing more than dead men walking. They have a few hours, or maybe two or three days left to live. For these men the rebels rarely show mercy.

On Monday night the fight continued under the wonderfully clear Tripoli sky, where the Milky Way was as brilliant as a planetarium show above the lit minarets. Red blasts of tracer ammunition exploded as NATO jets droned on at high altitude, their bombs exploding dully elsewhere, much more powerful than the bark of rapid-fire cannons or the rumble of artillery.

On Tuesday morning, the rebels prepared themselves for battle once again, loading fresh rockets into launchers. Just after 11 a.m. the day gets hot. A lot more people will die today, but perhaps it will end by the next call to prayer. "Insha'Allah," the Jadu rebels say often. "God willing."