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Libya has since become a brutal case study in the consequences of institutional and governance collapse. The 2011 rebellion shattered Muammar Qaddafi’s hyper-centralized state but failed to replace it with a functional alternative. Instead, the international community’s fixation on centralized power-sharing deals with warlords and loose militia coalitions continues to neglect the crucial work of subnational institution-building.

Thirteen years of political limbo have not yielded a single coherent local governance framework, enabling parallel power structures to metastasize. To date, Libya remains split between the Tripoli-based, UN-recognized Government of National Unity and a rogue eastern fiefdom dominated by the warlord Khalifa Haftar and his sons. These, in turn, also compete with more than 100 autonomous militias, including tribal-affiliated groups exploiting administrative vacuums.

A conspicuous absence of well-defined, legally enforceable administrative boundaries is the principal accelerant. Law 59 of 2012 envisaged governorates as intermediaries between municipalities and the state, but zero have been operationalized. Proposed maps, like the Government of National Unity’s 2022 blueprint for 19 provinces, remain theoretical amid venomous disputes over territorial jurisdiction.

Meanwhile, tribal councils fill service-delivery voids in regions like Fezzan, where public structures have simply vanished. Elsewhere, municipalities consequently shoulder functions spanning healthcare, policing and infrastructure without budgets or coordination mechanisms, resulting in woeful outcomes such as crippled hospitals and extremely high dropout rates in schools. Such an operational vacuum is now fueling resource predation as local factions continue to seize parts of Libya’s petroleum sector. 

Tribal and militia leaders have also become adept at exploiting institutional ambiguity, converting geographic influence into lucrative monopolies. Illicit economies and networks are now generating sums close to one-tenth of Libya’s pre-2011 gross domestic product via ports and desert crossings administered by de facto warlords. At the same time, boundary disputes between Zintan and Gharyan municipalities have frozen $120 million in reconstruction funds for three years.

Such paralysis is not incidental; it is structural.

The persistent failure to establish legitimate subnational governance structures, particularly resolving the question of administrative boundaries, entrenches division and dims prospects for a unified, sovereign state. Delaying the resolution of this cartographic standoff means that Libya’s fragmentation risks becoming irreversible at the cost of more than 2 million Libyans who require humanitarian aid in a country that once boasted high life expectancy, literacy rates and per capita income.

There is some precedence to the depth of the challenge Libya faces now.

The country’s territorial administration has always been unstable, from the Ottoman sanjaks designed for tax extraction, to Italy’s colonial divisions, to King Idris’ short-lived federal experiment (1951-1963) balancing Cyrenaica, Tripolitania and Fezzan. Qaddafi’s 1969 coup replaced provinces with “people’s districts,” eviscerating local capacity. Post-Qaddafi, the 2012 Local Administration Law envisioned governorates, municipalities and sub-municipal tiers, yet the critical governorate level remains non-existent. This absence cripples coordination on regional transport, resource management and security, overburdening a weak central authority and leaving municipalities isolated.

Current proposals for administrative boundaries reveal crippling tensions. 

Advocates of three regions (Cyrenaica, Tripolitania, Fezzan) invoke historical legitimacy but ignore perilous realities. Similar “federalizations” around the world with minimal regional units, e.g. Bosnia (two entities), Comoros (three) and Pakistan (1973: four) all exhibit chronic instability. In addition, Nigeria’s post-independence shift from three to 36 states deliberately diluted ethnic domination. Libya’s three-region model risks entrenching the very divisions that fueled past civil strife: Fears of secessionism, resource-hoarding by dominant cities like Benghazi or Misrata, and the marginalization of smaller tribes within macro-regions. 

Alternative frameworks, for instance, 12 provinces or 13 units based on electoral districts, aim for balance but face legitimacy deficits. Electoral districts, drawn for technical convenience, often ignore deep-seated tribal animosities or socioeconomic ties. Proposals for “economic regions” coordinating multiple governorates require robust planning institutions and fiscal autonomy that Libya lacks. Crucially, all models stumble on the core political schism: Federalists demanding regional autonomy vs. centralists fearing state fracture. This deadlock paralyzes reforms while illicit economies flourish; fuel-smuggling alone generates at least half a billion annually for militias, entrenching rule-by-gun-barrel. 

However, there is still some hope yet.  

South Africa’s post-apartheid boundary delimitation offers curious parallels. Facing similar risks of ethnic polarization, it established a technocratic Commission on Demarcation and Delimitation guided by clear criteria: Historical boundaries, economic viability, infrastructure and cultural realities. 

Crucially, it embedded this within a Multi-Party Negotiating Forum, separating technical work from political bargaining. Four months of consultations yielded 780 written submissions and 157 oral testimonies, with hearings translated into 11 languages. The result: Nine provinces replacing apartheid’s racial Bantustans, validated through inclusive participation. 

Libya’s path demands a similarly structured process, not just a map. 

A boundary commission must integrate multidisciplinary expertise, such as demographers to quantify population distributions, economists to model resource allocation and geographers to assess topographical constraints, as seen with South Africa’s commission, which included 16 specialists across seven fields. Crucially, such a body must derive its mandate from an inclusive political forum representing Libya’s fragmented power centers, ensuring decisions reflect negotiated consensus rather than unilateral imposition. 

Historical continuities must be weighed alongside contemporary realities: Tribal land claims governing 65 percent of southern territories, hydrocarbon reserves concentrated in three basins and population disparities where Tripoli hosts 2 million residents while southern municipalities average 30,000. Resource distribution formulas must be codified to prevent rent-seeking, particularly given Libya’s lucrative oil revenues. 
Public consultations require robust methodologies, not tokenism. Besides, imposing boundaries without tribal and community buy-in guarantees rebellion. Yet Libya’s context demands added safeguards: Independent dispute-resolution mechanisms and explicit rejection of referendums, which magnify polarization in fractured societies. 

Lastly, dispute resolution necessitates permanent architecture. Nigeria’s National Boundary Commission, operational since 1987, offers a template: A neutral technical body empowered to adjudicate inter-provincial conflicts and manage cross-boundary resources. However, in Libya, where 40 percent of proposed boundaries overlap with militia territories, such a commission will require authority to deploy verification teams and impose binding arbitration, backed by international guarantors to prevent politicization. 

A tall order, given the current context, but the cost of inaction escalates daily. 

Libya’s chief export — oil, remains hostage to blockades by armed groups, even as 1.5 million people lack healthcare access, while municipalities, starved of funds and authority, cannot provide basic services. Each year of fragmentation deepens kleptocratic networks, radicalizes marginalized populations and erodes faith in public institutions. 

Strangely, the 2011 rebellion demanded dignity and equitable development. Redrawing administrative boundaries should therefore not be a mere cartography exercise but the very foundation for dismantling militias, redistributing resources and rebuilding social contracts. 

Without this, Libya’s sovereignty will remain a fiction sustained only by foreign patrons and kleptocrats.

• Hafed Al-Ghwell is a senior fellow and program director at the Stimson Center and senior fellow at the Center for Conflict and Humanitarian Studies. X: @HafedAlGhwell