After nearly a decade behind bars in Lebanon, Hannibal Gaddafi—the son of Libya’s late longtime ruler Moammar al-Gaddafi—walked free on Monday evening, November 10, 2025, following the payment of a hefty $900,000 bail. The release, confirmed by security officials and a member of his defense team, brings an end to a saga that has long entwined Lebanese-Libyan relations and the enduring mystery of a vanished cleric.
Gaddafi, now 49, had been held since December 2015, accused of withholding information about the 1978 disappearance of Lebanese Shiite cleric Moussa al-Sadr. The case, which has simmered for decades, centers on the fate of Sadr, who vanished in Libya along with an aide and a journalist during an official visit. Lebanese authorities have consistently blamed Moammar al-Gaddafi, then Libya’s ruler, for the disappearances—a charge that has strained ties between the two countries ever since.
Yet, as several outlets including the Associated Press and AFP have pointed out, Hannibal Gaddafi was just a toddler at the time of Sadr’s disappearance. According to The Associated Press, he was two years old; other reports peg him as less than three. That fact has fueled debate over both the fairness and the political undertones of his lengthy detention.
Hannibal’s journey to a Lebanese jail was itself dramatic. After fleeing Libya amid the 2011 uprising that toppled and killed his father, Gaddafi sought refuge in Syria. But in December 2015, his fortunes took a sharp turn when he was kidnapped by armed men and taken to Lebanon. Lebanese authorities soon freed him from his captors—only to detain him themselves on suspicion of withholding information about Sadr’s fate.
For nearly ten years, Gaddafi languished in pre-trial detention, his fate tied to the unresolved trauma of Sadr’s disappearance. The case has remained a potent symbol for many Lebanese, especially within the Shiite community. Sadr was the founder of the Amal movement, now allied with Hezbollah, and his disappearance is viewed as both a personal and national wound.
Legal proceedings in Lebanon moved at a glacial pace. In October 2025, a judge finally ordered Gaddafi’s release, but set bail at a staggering $11 million. That sum, however, was successfully challenged by Gaddafi’s defense team, who argued for a reduction. Their efforts bore fruit last week, when an appeal brought the bail down to approximately 80 billion Lebanese pounds—about $900,000. The Associated Press confirmed that the bail was paid, and that Gaddafi was released after the necessary paperwork was completed on Monday evening.
One of Gaddafi’s lawyers, Charbel Milad al-Khoury, told The Associated Press that his client was officially freed after the paperwork went through. “He was released Monday evening after necessary paperwork was finished,” al-Khoury said, echoing statements from two security officials who also confirmed the news, albeit anonymously due to regulations.
The reduction in bail was not the only legal hurdle cleared in recent days. Lebanese authorities also lifted a travel ban that had previously prevented Gaddafi from leaving the country. This legal shift, as reported by both the Associated Press and AFP, paved the way for his release and possible departure from Lebanon.
There was some intrigue about who footed the bill. According to two judicial and one security official cited by Reuters and the Associated Press, the bail was paid by a Libyan delegation. The Justice Ministry of the Tripoli-based government even took to social media to announce that the Libyan delegation had paid the bail—an unusual public affirmation that underscored the high-profile nature of the case.
Gaddafi’s French lawyer, Laurent Bayon, told AFP that his client was preparing to leave Lebanon for a “confidential” destination, and that he holds a Libyan passport. Bayon did not specify where Gaddafi would go next, citing security concerns. The lawyer also used the occasion to criticize the Lebanese justice system, stating, “If Gaddafi was able to be arbitrarily detained in Lebanon for 10 years, it’s because the justice system was not independent.” He went on to argue that the move toward his client’s release reflected a restoration of judicial independence under Lebanon’s reformist government, which was formed in January.
For Lebanese authorities, the release marks a significant—if controversial—moment. The case has been a source of both domestic and international tension, with Lebanon’s Shiite political factions, particularly the Amal movement and its ally Hezbollah, maintaining a keen interest in Sadr’s fate. The disappearance has never been fully explained, and the Lebanese government has long maintained that Moammar al-Gaddafi was responsible. That accusation, dating back to the late 1970s, contributed to the deep freeze in diplomatic relations between Beirut and Tripoli.
Hannibal Gaddafi’s personal story is, in many ways, a microcosm of Libya’s own tumultuous history since the Arab Spring. Married to Lebanese model Aline Skaf, he fled Libya as his father’s regime collapsed, only to find himself caught in the cross-currents of regional politics and unresolved historical grievances. His detention in Lebanon, ostensibly for information he could not possibly possess as a toddler, raised questions about the use of legal systems to settle political scores or address collective trauma.
The episode also casts a spotlight on Lebanon’s own justice system, which has come under increasing scrutiny for its handling of politically sensitive cases. While Gaddafi’s release was welcomed by his legal team and supporters as a sign of reform, critics argue that the underlying issues—political interference, lengthy pre-trial detentions, and the lack of closure for the families of the disappeared—remain unresolved.
The lifting of the travel ban and the payment of bail may have resolved Gaddafi’s immediate predicament, but they have done little to answer the lingering question at the heart of the case: What really happened to Moussa al-Sadr? For many Lebanese, the cleric’s disappearance is a festering wound, and Gaddafi’s release is unlikely to bring closure. Instead, it may simply mark another chapter in a story that, nearly five decades on, continues to haunt both Lebanon and Libya.
As Hannibal Gaddafi leaves Lebanon for parts unknown, his decade-long ordeal serves as a stark reminder of how the past can reach out to ensnare the present—and how the search for justice can become entangled with politics, memory, and the unresolved shadows of history.
