The persistence of the tribal social system in Libya can be attributed to the nature of societies in Third World countries, where states based on stable and neutral institutions are often absent or weak. All political systems that have ruled the region stretching from Muscat to Marrakesh in the post-colonial era have relied on tribes as a tool to create political balances and ensure social loyalties, aiming to strengthen the stability of the political system and solidify its foundations.
This balance is achieved either through explicit hereditary mechanisms, where power is transferred within the ruling family or tribe, or implicitly through the use of grand slogans that grant legitimacy to the ruler. These slogans often justify their continued hold on power under pretexts such as completing the “national project,” leading the “historical phase,” or waging the “decisive battle,” thereby reinforcing their legitimacy and prolonging their rule.
It is no surprise today, as we stand on the threshold of the third decade of the third millennium, that the tribe continues to serve as a social umbrella, fulfilling vital roles. It regulates social norms and traditions and fills the void left by the absence of the state and the weakness of its institutions, especially amid widespread security and social corruption. Additionally, the tribe plays a central role in resolving personal status issues, such as marriage and divorce, settling land disputes, and even mediating conflicts between individuals or partners.
But,
If the tribe oversteps this natural role and goes beyond its social function to take the place of political parties, think tanks, and advisory institutions, and becomes governance consultants or imposes its conditions on the shape of the political system, the results can be catastrophic. We must not forget the bloody conflicts that erupted among Arab tribes, such as the wars of (Dahis and Al-Ghabra), or those that occurred between the (Oghuz and Karluk) tribes in Asia, and even the conflicts among the tribes of Northern Europe. Perhaps the most vivid lesson we see today is the consequences of replacing the state with the tribe in countries like Afghanistan, Pakistan, and some African nations, where the negative effects of this shift are evident.
Today, we’re being organized under ethnic and tribal banners, often with international backing.
Those who engage with the United Nations as representatives of Arabs, Amazigh, Tuareg, Tebu, Ashraf, Karaghela, Qriytin, or Jews should not be surprised if, in the future, the UN begins engaging with new groups who have established a numerical presence among us—even if their time in the country has been as short as a decade.
My advice is to avoid ethnic and tribal calls and instead hold onto place as the foundation of identity and solidarity. We have cities, provinces, and regions that form interconnected blocks, living in shared coexistence and bound by social and economic interests. These geographical blocks have the right to participate in governing the state and to have their voices heard, regardless of the ethnic or tribal backgrounds of those who inhabit these areas. We are one Libyan nation, diverse and multi-ethnic, and let us make this diversity a divine gift that enriches our lives, rather than turning it into a crisis of our own making.
If there is an urgent need today for a national charter and a unified social voice, let it be a swift and immediate call from the east, west, center, and south of the country, under one slogan: “No to the involvement of ethnic and tribal systems in politics.” My advice to hold onto place rather than ethnicity or tribe is the path to salvation from a massive tsunami that many parties are preparing for, while some are drowning in trivial details that make them oblivious to the coming earthquakes and their cascading consequences