When Barack Obama and David Cameron met in London this week, one problem would have been foremost in their minds. It’s more than six weeks since they penned their joint article with Nicolas Sarkozy demanding that ‘Gaddafi must go’. It’s more than two months since they started airstrikes in Libya. Yet Gaddafi is stubbornly refusing to be toppled.
He is not alone. In Yemen, Ali Abdullah Saleh has reneged on two deals to step down and, at the last minute, refused to sign a third — despite an American promise of immunity. In Syria, Bashar Assad seems determined to stay on through sheer bloody force, unmoved by US and EU sanctions. In Zimbabwe, Robert Mugabe has announced that he will run for president again this year at the age of 87. How do you persuade despots to step down if airstrikes, sanctions, international condemnation, regional pressure, declarations that they are war criminals or even offers of immunity won’t sway them? The problem becomes particularly acute when they know only too well you don’t want to put boots on ground to oust them militarily. It’s easy for Obama and Cameron to say ‘go’. But where?
Once, dictators could just step down, and go off to enjoy their ill-gotten wealth in villas in the South of France. But for nine years now, the International Criminal Court has been scouring the planet for people to prosecute. It was intended to deter those in power from committing atrocities, but many argue that it has actually made it harder to end wars by removing a tyrant. For despots who already have blood on their hands — Gaddafi was indicted by the court last week — the threat of prosecution is a reason to fight until the bitter end.
Diplomats who have wrestled with these problems before can see how the court has complicated things. ‘If Gaddafi’s option is to go from king of kings to handcuffs in the Hague you know which choice he’s going to pursue,’ says Charles Stith, the former US ambassador to Tanzania. His experience in Africa convinced him that one of the biggest challenges in the post-colonial world is getting leaders to move aside. ‘Power is a seductive mistress and once she has kissed you on the lips it’s hard to walk away. A lot of these guys get used to trappings of power and begin to think they’re indispensable.’
His solution is a rather unlikely-seeming idea: to lure them away with fellowships at American universities. He set up the African President-in-Residence programme at Boston University, funded by the US State Department, to offer leaders a dignified exit. Starting with Zambia’s Kenneth Kaunda, he has hosted six former presidents and is always looking for recruits. ‘It’s not a perfect world,’ he says. ‘The importance of our programme is it gives leaders an option to leave office in a dignified manner and continue to have status and an international platform. We try to turn them into elder statesmen.’
The idea of tutorials from Professor Gaddafi may sound ludicrous. But in January, Obama tried to persuade the Ivory Coast’s strongman, Laurent Gbagbo, to step down in favour of a post at Boston. He turned it down and, in his three further months of power, killed 1,300 people.
Exile is an alternative. Idi Amin, who ruled Uganda for eight murderous years in the 1970s, lived out his final decades in the top two floors of the Novotel in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. It might have been galling to see such a monster enjoy a luxury retirement, but it almost certainly saved thousands of lives. And exile may still be an option for Gaddafi. Having been indicted by the International Criminal Court, he might choose a country which has not signed up to its remit. Saudi Arabia still offers generous retirement packages for ex-leaders. Ben Ali, until recently president of Tunisia, is there now. Nawaz Sharif of Pakistan spent eight years in exile there. The Saudis also offered a home to the deposed Egyptian president, Hosni Mubarak, who decided to stay in his country but may regret it: he faces trial and his sons have been locked up. Gaddafi, however, probably ruled out retirement in Saudi Arabia when he tried to have one of their princes assassinated.
Another case that Gaddafi might consider as he assesses the prospect of exile is that of Charles Taylor of Liberia. Taylor was responsible for all manner of heinous crimes, not just in his own country but in neighbouring Sierra Leone, where he masterminded a war funded by so-called blood diamonds. His fighters hacked off hands and arms. In 2003, after a quarter of a million deaths, Nigeria’s Olusegun Obasanjo persuaded him to step down and gave him sanctuary in the southern Nigerian city of Calabar. But three years later the Nigerian authorities changed their mind, arrested him and sent him to the Hague.
Closing arguments in Taylor’s trial are now under way. Stith is one of several people who have written to the court asking it not to impose a life sentence, because of the signal it would send. ‘We’re a little quick on the trigger to want to prosecute rather than negotiate,’ he says. ‘Is it more important to satisfy a puritan desire for justice or get the bad guy out so democratic process can take root? What happened with Taylor meant diplomacy is off the table and war becomes the only option.’
The trial has certainly had an effect on Mugabe. I was in Harare in 2008 after the last elections, when tremendous international pressure was put on him to go into exile. Mugabe insisted he would only leave Zimbabwe in a coffin. Aides said he had watched what happened to his friend Charles Taylor. And Taylor is also a friend of Gaddafi.
Even some fervent supporters of the International Criminal Court admit that it has complicated the process of removing dictators. One such is Paul van Zyl, who was executive secretary of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa, and helped found the International Centre for Transitional Justice. ‘There are moments when the short-term desires for peace and for justice conflict, as we’re seeing now in Libya,’ he says. ‘But in the long term they are not in conflict — in fact it is the absence of justice which has undermined peace in many countries.’ With around 40 counties signed up to the court (though not America), van Zyl argues that it cannot be wished away. ‘The international justice genie is out of the bottle. I still believe that as a first principle holding those responsible for mass atrocities is what any reasonable person would expect and will have some deterrent effect.’
There is only one possible option for Gaddafi: to seek sanctuary in company of other dictators. Zimbabwe has long been home to Mengistu of Ethiopia, responsible for a ‘Red Terror’ that disappeared thousands of people. Gaddafi has bailed Zimbabwe out in recent years when it could not pay its bills and would no doubt be welcomed in Harare. His choice is to fight, or live the rest of his days as a guest of Mugabe. The indications are that he has made his choice.