Rebel radio station offering mix of information, uncensored debate and revolutionary songs is a thorn in loyalists' side
It's not Saigon, it's 40 years on, and there's desert rather than jungle all around. But there is a war and there is a radio station and a breakfast show with a familiar name. Instead of Good Morning Vietnam, it's Good Morning Libya, broadcast from rebel-controlled Misrata every day.
It's the flagship programme of Radio Free Libya, a station seized in February from Muammar Gaddafi, who has permitted no dissenting voice on the airwaves since taking power in 1969. The station, staffed by volunteers, symbolises the defiance of the people of Misrata – and is an object of fury for Gaddafi. His forces shot up the studio, forcing the presenters to move. They also made three unsuccessful attacks, including one by helicopter, on the broadcast tower.
"It's driving Gaddafi crazy that we are still on air," says Ahmed Hadia, the station's general manager. "We want to make him even crazier."
Unlike Vietnam, there are no Beach Boys or James Brown on the morning programme. "When we took over my first challenge was to find a song in the library that did not mention Gaddafi," says Hadia, 37. "That was not easy."
The hour-long show kicks off not with a Robin Williams-style holler but a singsong jingle offering a "good morning to the mothers and the fathers and the sisters and the brothers, from the desert to the sea, from the mountains to the mountains".
There's a weather report (17C in Misrata), a summary of what the world's newspapers are saying about Libya, and a few traditional Arabic songs. Then follows a discussion on nationalism, hosted by two university students who read out listeners' emails or Facebook messages and offer wise words from Socrates.
Still, considering how Radio Misrata – as it was called – operated before February, it marks a radical change. Then, everything revolved around Gaddafi, from the content to the green studio curtains and windowsills.
On the first day, 21 February, Hadia broadcast for 10 hours non-stop, starting with the message: "This is Free Misrata and we now own the radio."
Almost immediately came knocks on the studio doors from city elders and ordinary civilians, desperate to speak openly after 42 years of holding their tongues, Haida says. Around the same time, the city's newspaper al-Jamahir, The People, published its first – and only – uncensored edition, featuring pictures of the revolution and of the civilian dead, as well as a crude cartoon of Gaddafi.
"Before, that would have put us in jail," says Mohamud Mloda, the paper's editor.
Then the Egyptian print workers fled the country, and the presses were unreachable due to heavy fighting in the city centre. Soon the mobile networks were cut, leaving the radio station as the only reliable source of information in Misrata.
To warn civilians and help rebel fighters, Hadia and his team broadcast alerts of where Gaddafi's forces have been attacking. They also direct messages at government soldiers, saying that they have been lied to, and that there are no al-Qaida terrorists in the city.
In a move designed to antagonise Gaddafi as well as inspire Libyans across the country, one of the engineers has added an AM channel alongside the FM signal, so that on clear days the station can be heard as far away as Lebanon and southern Europe.
It is dangerous work. Snipers have the studio entrance in their sights, so the Radio Free Libya volunteers have cut a small hole in a side wall to allow them to enter secretly.
"Gaddafi called those who oppose him rats, and for 10 days we were rats," says Hadia.
With interview guests afraid to visit the studio, the presenters set up in a shipping container. Shells started landing nearby – live programmes frequently feature gunfire in the background – forcing another relocation, to an empty girl's school.
The station operates 24 hours a day. As well as the morning show, there are also live religious programmes and a segment aimed at young people. Reporters send in clips from rebel checkpoints, the frontline and the hospital. Special requests are aired, such as a plea from the rebels for people not to return to the heart of the city, now free of Gaddafi forces, until unexploded ordinance has been cleared. There is also advice. On a night of heavy shelling over the weekend, one of the presenters quickly consulted the internet before offering tips on the best places in a house to seek shelter.
There have been tensions about content, with the younger people – the generation leading the revolution and the fighting – objecting to attempts by older, more religious, men to make the station programming more conservative. The youth appear to have won the debate, with the station broadcasting some hip-hop style songs about the revolution.
The producer, Ali Almani, who worked for the old radio station for 10 years, is revelling in the freedom of no longer having to get permission for every song he plays.
"We would have to break our programming every time Gaddafi made a speech," he says. "No more. This is a taste of freedom." The downside is the danger, with Almani arriving at work every day carrying a gun.
Just how free is Radio Free Libya? In the early days, one or two people called in support of Gaddafi, and were allowed their say. Much innocent blood has been spilled since then.
"To be honest, nobody has really criticised the revolution, but if they did I am not sure if we would allow them on air now," says Hadia. "After Gaddafi goes, that's when we can be really democratic."