Libya faces a catastrophic threat that could shatter its national identity. After already losing its political identity with the emergence of “the State of Libya” (a term whose meaning is unclear: is it a republic, a “Jamahiriya,” or a monarchy), an prolonged vacuum in the presidency and the deepening of ethnic and tribal loyalties pose an existential threat to Libya’s identity. The political desertification of some elite circles is manifested through their efforts to split the state, geographically and politically, to serve their personal interests rather than the national interest.
The homeland is a safe haven for all. It is broader and more inclusive, guaranteeing rights for all. Indeed, Libyan society is largely tribal and clan-based; the majority who share Arab lineage enjoy the same rights as others, whose citizenship is equally guaranteed by the homeland.
However, the absence of a true unified and inclusive national government with a national vision, even a vague shared ground, has reinforced division and intensified armed conflicts between various parties. Meanwhile, militias, whose only identity is money and influence, have become hired guns that allow any side to overpower another
The emergence of entities such as the Supreme Council of the Amazigh of Libya undermines unity. Indeed, there is no equivalent Supreme Council of the Arabs of Libya although the Amazigh are a minority. The same is true for the “Supreme Council of Hadar Tribes,” which needlessly pits urbanites against the Bedouin, as there is no equivalent Supreme Council of the Bedouin of Libya.
The rise of new and distinct communal identities is a serious problem. There is a real problem in Libyans’ conception of the terms “Bedouin” and “Hadar” (Urbanite), sociological notions notably developed by Ibn Khaldun, the founder of the discipline. Libyans consider Bedouin or urban identity to be hereditary, while it is determined by one’s lifestyle. Your ancestors may have been Bedouin and you a Hadar, or the opposite. It is a way of life, not an ancestry. In Libya, most people define it in these terms, even though most Libyans have Bedouin ancestry, so this majority is Bedouin if we define the term through lineage.
This state of affairs undermines national initiatives and efforts to make progress on stability and security. In the absence of a strong, consensual central government, and with state institutions divided, militias prosper, with each pursuing its own interests at the expense of the country’s unity. The threat of geographical fragmentation now looms following the sustained political fragmentation of the country. Ethnic and tribal extremism can unravel the social fabric and fuel strife in Libya. Crushing the Libyan mosaic that remained cohesive for many years would make putting a unified, strong state back together extremely difficult.
Strengthening national unity and pursuing a comprehensive political consensus is the solution. This consensus would allow for building a state that embraces all citizens. Indeed, the country’s fragmentation around questions of identity coincides with insidious attempts to rip its national and political identity apart through under the vague name “the State of Libya.” An Islamist movement came up with this name at the start of the February 2011 “revolution:” they climbed atop the Transitional Council of the February movement and wrote this ambiguous, politically lacking identity name into the constitutional declaration.
And the question remains: Is Libya a republic, a “Jamahiriya,” or a monarchy? No one knows, not even the rival parliamentarians. Libya has two governments, two parliaments, two central banks, and so on. So how are we to determine Libya’s political identity, lost or deliberately obscured, while confronting ethnic and tribal consolidation. No group, community, or clan can build a state if loyalty to these identities takes precedence over loyalty to the single homeland.
