Only a handful of tourists wandered through the unspoiled ruins of the ancient Roman city of Leptis Magna, which edges the azure waters of the Mediterranean. It was high season, when buses should have been disgorging hundreds of affluent visitors from Europe and beyond. But among the arches and fountains, there was mostly silence. Tour guide Saleh Krima explained why. “The Leader has called for a jihad against Switzerland,' he said on a recent day. “Now, no one wants to come here.'
The Leader is Muammar el-Qaddafi, who has ruled this nation with an iron fist for more than 40 years. His tit-for-tat fight with Swiss authorities followed his son Hannibal's brief arrest in Geneva in 2008 for allegedly beating members of his staff. The charges were dropped, but the feud has continued — a stark example of the Libyan government's unpredictability.
Since Libya's diplomatic isolation ended more than six years ago, the country has tried hard to attract foreign investors and promote tourism to diversify its oil-dependent economy. But an older mind-set — steeped in bureaucracy, old-style socialism and antagonism toward the West — is stifling its aspirations to become a North African version of Dubai, the Middle East's economic hub.
A Swiss businessman has been jailed in Tripoli, the Libyan capital, on immigration violation charges, an action widely seen as retaliation for the arrest of Qaddafi's son. Switzerland, in turn, has barred Libyan officials. In February, Qaddafi banned visas for citizens from 20 European countries in an order that was not lifted until late last month. His call for jihad, or holy war, against Switzerland came after a Swiss referendum prohibited the construction of new minarets. Since then, Libyan officials have said that Qaddafi meant an economic boycott and not an armed struggle.
Last month, Libya imposed a trade and economic embargo on Switzerland that stopped flights and halted oil exports. Libya has also withdrawn billions from Swiss banks.
Ordinary Libyans have loyally applauded Qaddafi's actions. But they have also felt the brunt of the diplomatic fallout. Travel agent Abdalla Adem has seen his business shrink by 60 percent. His main clients are Italian, Spanish, German, Belgian and French tourists. “Switzerland was wrong to treat the son of a head of state in this manner, and it was they who first barred the Libyans,' Adem said.
Libya's unpredictability extends to its efforts to change. A promised transition from a state-run economy to one in which private companies play a prominent role has been slow. In one well-publicized case, the government forcibly bought out a Canadian oil company for less than it was worth, after the company announced a big find.
Libya's old guard of politicians, internal security officials and tribal leaders are resisting political and social reforms proposed by Qaddafi's liberal-minded son, Saif al-Islam. Reforms “are moving, but not very fast,' the younger Qaddafi conceded.
Switzerland is not the only Western nation to feel the Leader's wrath in recent weeks. Although relations with the United States have improved, prickliness persists. Libyan officials were furious at their country's being added to a US security watch list after the attempted bombing of a US airliner over Detroit on Christmas Day. And when a State Department spokesman joked last month about Qaddafi's call for jihad against Switzerland, the Leader warned US oil executives in Tripoli that the comments could harm their business interests. The State Department spokesman subsequently apologized.
Billions in US private-investment dollars promised in exchange for Libya dismantling its program to develop weapons of mass destruction have not materialized, deepening the frustration of officials here. US oil companies have flocked to the North African country, but many other firms have held off, fearing the capricious business environment.