It was 2 o'clock in the morning, and Muammar Gaddafi was weary. As host of an Organization of African Unity (O.A.U.) summit, he had been working around the clock for more than a week to try to salvage the conference. When not whisking about in his pale blue Bedouin robes or stylish dark suit, with half a dozen Kalashnikov-toting female bodyguards in blue berets swelling his progress, Gaddafi had spent the previous few days reading reports and consulting with other Arabs about the news from Lebanon. None of it was good from his standpoint. He had just seen off the last...
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