Obari, Southern Libya, 2014, 2 PM on a spring day: Aisha Mohammed Musa, a recent medical graduate, sought a passport, a key to unlock her dreams. At the civil documents office, her hopes were dashed with a callous reply: “The country doesn’t need more Chadians becoming Libyan citizens.” Aisha’s dreams of pursuing higher education abroad crumbled.
For over two decades, Libya has been Aisha’s only home. “According to some, we’re not even second-class citizens; we’re deemed unworthy of life,” she lamented to Alhurra.
Aisha’s plight is not unique. Thousands of stateless individuals, known as “bidoon” (without), live in Libya. The UN defines a stateless person as “someone not considered a national by any country under the operation of its law.”
The Roots of Statelessness in Libya
Imagine being abroad, only to be excluded from the national census, rendering you stateless. This is the reality for many Libyans who were excluded from censuses during the monarchy overthrown in the late 1960s. Others were excluded after migrating to neighboring countries (Tunisia, Algeria, Sudan, and Egypt) during Italian colonization (1911-1942) and returning after the war.
The conflict over the Aozou Strip, a border region between Libya and Chad, further exacerbated the issue. Gaddafi’s regime stripped the inhabitants, primarily the Tebu tribe, of their citizenship after an international court ruling favored Chad.
A Cycle of Hardship
Denied the chance to study abroad, Aisha found work in a neighboring Arab country. Her attempts to obtain a passport were again thwarted, leading her to build a life in Libya. Even her dreams of opening a small clinic were shattered by laws requiring investors to be Libyan citizens. Today, Aisha works in a local hospital but struggles to receive her salary and access banking services.
For Aisha, the stateless face constant obstacles, from necessities like phone SIM cards to fundamental rights like education, healthcare, and dignified employment. Desperate, many risk the perilous journey to Europe for a better future. Aisha recounts a friend’s successful journey to France, contrasting it with her perpetual state of limbo.
A Long-Standing Issue
Estimates put Libya’s stateless population at around 150,000, encompassing various groups like the Tebu, Tuareg, and Arab tribes, including Gaddafi’s own Qaddadfa tribe. Ahmed Hamza, head of the National Institution for Human Rights in Libya, notes that while some have been naturalized, others remain without identity, passing the issue down generations.
These individuals face obstacles in obtaining identification documents, hindering political participation, pilgrimage, education, and medical treatment abroad. Hamza criticizes the state’s failure to address this issue, calling for a comprehensive solution grounded in social, legal, humanitarian, and human rights perspectives.
Government Response and Challenges
After Gaddafi’s ousting, authorities issued national numbers to citizens, but this highlighted the challenge of statelessness. Protests erupted, even shutting down oil fields. Online campaigns like “No to Discrimination” and “The Administrative Number” emerged.
The “administrative number” offered some rights, like salaries and administrative services, but its impact remains limited. Media reports estimate around 17,000 families hold this number.
Political analyst Ismail Ramli expresses doubt about finding radical solutions amidst Libya’s political divisions. He cites attempts to form committees and review files, but these face challenges due to the large numbers and concerns about social fabric. He believes that without political stability, a resolution is unlikely.
As Libya remains divided between competing two governments, the stateless, like Aisha, remain in a precarious position, caught between identities, yearning for a place to call home.