Redrawing borders across Libya would resolve nothing

The unraveling of Libya since 2011 has become a woeful parable of post-intervention state collapse. What began as a movement fueled by democratic aspirations has devolved into a fragmented contest for power, with rival governments propped up by foreign patrons and an array of militias, smugglers, and political elites.
A decade of failed peace talks, broken ceasefires, rampant corruption, and splintered institutions has left the plight of ordinary Libyans drowned out by competing authorities, each extracting loyalty through coercion or patronage. Exhausted by perpetual instability, some now whisper of partition — a formal division of the country into eastern and western zones, maybe even a southern region, too — as the only remedy for this crisis.
Yet, even when framed as pragmatism, such a “national divorce” risks cementing the dysfunction rather than resolving it.
The roots of the appeal of partition lie in the intense rivalry between the UN-recognized government in Tripoli, and Khalifa Haftar’s forces in the east of the country. Backed by an array of external powers, these factions have become less national entities and more proxies in a regional power struggle.
Meanwhile, hybrid networks — militias-turned-municipal authorities, smuggling rings-turned-economic pillars — exploit the vacuum to consolidate localized control and launder ill-gotten gains. Given that national elections are often proposed but perpetually delayed, these new “elites” have entrenched themselves, rendering traditional disarmament and governance reforms highly implausible.
Partition advocates argue that accepting this reality could halt open conflict and allow parallel governance. But Libya’s history, social cohesion, and economic anatomy defy such simplistic perspectives.
Unlike, say, Sudan or Cyprus, Libya lacks the sort of deep-rooted ethnic or sectarian divisions that could justify a “neat” bifurcation. Tribal affiliations cross over geographic lines; economic life depends on interconnected networks, including oil flows from eastern fields to western ports; and financial institutions in Tripoli underpin national transactions.
Partition would rupture these ties, sparking heated disputes over citizenship and control of resources that could escalate into violence. It would empower warlords and external forces while alienating communities dependent on interconnected trade and kinship. Far from ending Libya’s crisis, partition would codify its divisions, trading a fragile status quo for a future of smaller, weaker, and more volatile statelets.
Furthermore, redrawing borders across Libya would do nothing to resolve the crisis and instead institutionalize the forces perpetuating it. Formalizing boundaries between eastern and western territories would grant highly sought-after legitimacy to warlords and militias, transforming them from rogue actors into de facto heads of state.
No longer confined to operating in the shadows or within exclusive family dynasties, these groups would gain sovereign authority to negotiate oil deals, sign military pacts, and suppress dissent within their domains. It would mirror the post-1991 fragmentation of Somalia, where clan leaders-turned-presidents exploited newly granted recognition to entrench networks of patronage, fueling cycles of corruption and insurgency.
In addition, the absence of unified governance would invite external actors motivated by self-interest to deepen their interference. Regional powers, no longer constrained by the pretense of backing a single Libyan state, would be further emboldened to carve out exclusive spheres of influence, endorsed by a new ruling elite that would seek to safeguard its own grip on newfound power.

Formalizing boundaries between eastern and western territories would grant highly sought-after legitimacy to warlords and militias.

Hafed Al-Ghwell

Whether it was to secure a buffer zone against perceived threats, or to control Mediterranean energy routes and resources, renewed competition would mirror the proxy conflicts of the Cold War, with fractured states becoming battlegrounds for rival powers.
Meanwhile, Libya’s own main rival factions, relieved of the need to compromise for the sake of national cohesion, would abandon even rhetorical commitments to democracy. Elections, already delayed since 2021, would fade from the agenda as elites in both camps focused on consolidating their own power. The result? A rapid descent into authoritarianism, with militias morphing into formal security forces that would silence opposition voices under the guise of unchecked state authority.
Without credible pathways to inclusive governance, Libyans — like the Iraqis after the 2003 invasion — could face a future in which “stability” is synonymous with repression, and national identity fractures along the lines of foreign allegiances.
The most immediate appeal of partition — a quick end to fighting — also overlooks the tenacity of Libya’s hybrid actors. Militias in Misrata, Zintan and Benghazi have survived demobilization efforts not through brute force alone but by embedding themselves in local governance. Formal disarmament and security sector reform programs, which would already be challenging even in a unified Libya, would face near-impossible hurdles in partitioned territories where militias would function as de facto state agencies.
Meanwhile, the recycled efforts by the UN to broker elections reflect an institutional paralysis that only values national polls as the more, and perhaps only, viable path toward unification. However, repeated delays and derailments of similar previous initiatives have allowed parallel institutions to calcify, with the eastern-based House of Representatives and Tripoli’s High Council of State now operating as rival legislatures, each resistant to the idea of ceding power.
The latest UN-sponsored initiative echoes familiar patterns of diplomatic theater that will not compel rival powers to change course, nor does it possess the mechanisms to disarm militias and counter foreign interference.
Like previous talks, from those in Skhirat to Geneva, all that the UN-facilitated efforts have managed to achieve is eke out hollow, power-sharing frameworks that collapse when rival factions refuse to relinquish control. As a result, there is simply no trust in any “new” proposals that continue to advocate centralized governance, leading to calls for a kind of “loose federalism” — in other words, devolving authority to regional power centers and municipalities.
However, while a loose federation could accommodate Libya’s fractured sociopolitical reality, it risks formalizing the same divisions it seeks to mend. Regions such as Cyrenaica, with its historical autonomy claims, might exploit any autonomy to monopolize oil revenues or invite even deeper foreign meddling. Meanwhile, Tripoli’s militias could leverage this newfound “freedom” to rebrand as regional security forces under the guise of local governance mandates.
Federal systems also require functional institutions and mutual trust, both of which are absent in Libya. Resource competition and tribal rivalries would transform semi-autonomous zones into contested fiefdoms. Rather than fostering unity, loose federalism could Balkanize the state, allowing external powers to manipulate regional leaders and permanently derail national cohesion.
The allure of federalism lies in its flexibility. But in the Libyan context, flexibility might only deepen the fractures that sustain its crises.
Partition offers merely the illusion of resolution and would, in reality, only worsen Libya’s woes by legitimizing fragmentation. Any sustainable peace will require dismantling the warlord economy, curtailing foreign interference, and reviving civic engagement. This will be a monumental and complicated task that cannot be outsourced to hastily drawn lines on a map.

• Hafed Al-Ghwell is a senior fellow and executive director of the North Africa Initiative at the Foreign Policy Institute of the Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced International Studies in Washington, DC. X: @HafedAlGhwell