In the makeshift military operations room in Libya's Nefusa Mountains, amid crackling radios and milling rebel officers, the "wise men" held council on Libya's future. Sipping sweet tea and donning traditional long robes, elders from rival tribes met for uncomfortable negotiations.
The villages of the Mashaashia tribe stood like ghost towns; the population had fled, their homes and shops had been looted, ransacked and burned. The tribe had supported Colonel Muammar Gaddafi in his attack on neighboring rebellious towns. Now, as the dictator lost his grasp on power, they were paying a heavy price for their loyalty. "We are here to negotiate reconciliation with the Nefusa Mountains, and to plan for a future together," said the leader of the tribe.
Complicated by historical rivalries, the wounds and rancor ran too deep. Within minutes, negotiations turned to enraged mud-slinging. Cups crashed to the floor as the tribal leaders stood up, their fists clenched.
Like Egypt to the east and Tunisia to the west, Libya is confronting a diversity that Gaddafi denied so strenuously that he tried to convince the minority Berbers that they were, in fact, Arabs.
The work of the country's new government, formed in November of last year, has been virtually paralyzed by internecine regional and factional feuds. Armed bands of tribesmen are among hundreds of militias that are proving to be the scourge of the revolution's aftermath.
Hundreds of fighting brigades from towns elsewhere in the west that swept into Tripoli in August of last year for the culminating battle to oust their dictator still show little inclination to leave. Seizing opulent mansions from the Gaddafi family and their wealthy supporters, they stockpile hand grenades and ammunition beside the Jacuzzi and patrol the streets with a swagger of entitlement.
Entourages of pick-up trucks with mounted anti-aircraft guns park outside police stations, overpowering civil security forces should they dare to lock up a member of the militia. Volleys of gunfire still ring through the capital at night with unnerving regularity as rival militias squabble over scraps of quarry.
Throughout the sweeping revolution, citizens across the country shouted for "freedom" and "democracy", and modern democracy remains the aspiration of its new leadership. Men in the new government offices pour over drafts of a constitution, as others work to prepare elections for June.
But the model is not a natural fit. While political institutions have long been lacking, the country's tribal fabric is a vibrant and powerful social structure. One's tribe is viewed as a source of personal protection, security, and identity. Aware of the need to maintain tribal loyalty, Gaddafi bestowed special privileges on members of his own Gaddadfa tribe, and ensured that the biggest tribes shared positions in the security services and military.
Libyans are often imbued with what seems to be a stronger sense of patriotism for their town than for the country. Libyans jokingly refer to the west Libyan city of Misrata as a "republic" after locals established checkpoints around the perimeters of the city, and required foreigners to get special permits to enter.
Tribal loyalties expressed in battle may soon be echoed at the ballot box. Under the new election law, three seats out of five in the National Assembly are reserved for those who run without party ties as independents. Parties, struggling to formulate policies and make themselves known to voters after four decades of one-man rule, can contest only 40 percent of the seats. Those trying to field political parties at an election in June fear that individuals will be able to call on traditional sympathies within their tribe to get elected.
