Bondok Hassem (left) gets help to mount a mortar inside Zwara´s squat house. Credit: Karlos Zurutuza/IPS

By Karlos Zurutuza
ZWARA, Libya, Dec 5 2014 (IPS)

It could be a squat house anywhere: music is playing non-stop and there is also a radio station and an art exhibition. However, weapons are also on display among the instruments, and most here wear camouflage uniform.

“The house belonged to a former member of the secret services of [Muammar] Gaddafi so we decided to squat it for the local youth in Zwara [an Amazigh enclave 120 km west of Tripoli, on the border with Tunisia],” Fadel Farhad, an electrician who combines his work with the local militia, tells IPS.It could be a squat house anywhere: music is playing non-stop and there is also a radio station and an art exhibition. However, weapons are also on display among the instruments, and most here wear camouflage uniform.

The centre is called “Tifinagh” after the name given to the Amazigh alphabet. Also called Berbers, the Amazigh are native inhabitants of North Africa.

The arrival of the Arabs in the region in the seventh century was the beginning of a slow yet gradual process of Arabisation which was sharply boosted during the four decades in which Muammar Gaddafi (1969-2011) remained in power. Unofficial estimates put the number of Amazighs in this country at around 600,000 – about 10 percent of the total population

Like most of the youngsters at the centre, Farhad knows he can be mobilised at any time. The latest attack on Zwara took place less than a kilometre from here a little over a week ago, when an airstrike hit a warehouse killing two Libyans and six sub-Saharan migrants.

Three years after Gaddafi was toppled, Libya remains in a state of political turmoil that has pushed the country to the brink of civil war. There are two governments and two separate parliaments one based in Tripoli and the other in Tobruk, 1,000 km east of the capital.

Several militias are grouped into two paramilitary alliances: Fajr (“Dawn” in Arabic), led by the Misrata brigades controlling Tripoli, and Karama (“Dignity”) commanded by Khalifa Haftar, a Tobruk-based former army general.

“Here in Zwara we rely on around 5000 men grouped into different militias,” Younis, a militia fighter who prefers not to give his full name, tells IPS. “We never wanted this to happen but the problem is that all our enemies are fighting on Tobruk´s side,” adds the 30-year-old by the pickups lining up at the entrance of the building.

Local militiamen gather outside their squat house in the Amazigh enclave of Zwara. Credit: Karlos Zurutuza/IPS

The polarisation of the conflict in Libya has pushed several Amazigh militias to fight sporadically alongside the coalition led by Misrata, which includes Islamist groups among its ranks.

However, the atmosphere in this squat house seems at odds with religious orthodoxy of any kind, with an unlikely fusion between Amazigh traditional music and death metal blasting from two loudspeakers. This is the work of 30-year-old Bondok Hassem, a well-known local musician who is also an Amazigh language teacher as well as one of the commanders of the Tamazgha militia.

“Both Misrata and Tobruk are striving to become the alpha male in this war. We are all fully aware that, whoever wins this war, they will attack us immediately afterwards so we are forced to defend our land by any means necessary,” laments Hassem between sips of boja, the local firewater.

But can it be international partnerships that hamper an already difficult agreement between both sides?

Egypt, United Arab Emirates, Saudi Arabia and France are backing Tobruk and Misrata relies mainly on Qatar and Turkey. Meanwhile, NATO officials are seemingly torn between wanting to stay out of the war, and watching anxiously as the violence goes out of control. Today, most of the diplomatic missions have left Tripoli, except for those of Italy and Hungary.

A fragile balance

Moussa Harim is among the Amazigh who seem to feel not too uncomfortable siding with the government in Tripoli. Born in Jadu, in the Amazigh stronghold of the Nafusa mountain range – 100 km south of Tripoli – Harim was exiled in France during Gaddafi’s time but he became Deputy Minister of Culture in March 2012.

Although he admits that Islamists pose a real threat, he clarifies that in Misrata there are also people “from all walks of life and very diverse affiliations, communists included.”

It is the geographical location itself which, according to Harim, inexorably pushes the Libyan Amazigh towards Misrata.

“Except for a small enclave in the east, our people live in the west of the country, and a majority of them here, in Tripoli,” the senior official tells IPS.

But there are discordant voices, like that of Fathi Ben Khalifa. A native of Zwara and a political dissident for decades, Ben Khalifa was the president of the World Amazigh Congress between 2011 and 2013.

The Congress is an international organisation based in Paris since 1995 that aims to protect the Amazigh identity. Today Ben Khalifa remains as an executive member of this umbrella organisation for this North African people.

“This is not our war, it’s just a conflict between Arab nationalists and Islamists, none of which will ever recognise our rights,” Ben Khalifa tells IPS over the phone from Morocco. Although the senior political activist defends the right of his people to defend themselves from outside aggressions, he gives a deadline to take a clearer position:

“If Libya´s Constitution – to be released on December 24 – does not grant our legitimate rights, then it will be the time to take up arms,” Ben Khalifa bluntly claims.

At dusk, and after another day marked by exhausting shifts at checkpoints and patrols around the city, the local militiamen cool down after swapping their rifles for a harmonica and a guitar at the squat house. This time they play the songs of Matloub Lounes, a singer from Kabylia, Algeria´s Amazigh stronghold.

“I can´t hardly wait for the war to end. I´ll burn my uniform and get back to my work,” says Anwar Darir, an Amazigh language teacher since 2011. That was the year in which Gaddafi was killed, yet a solution to the conflict among Libyans is still nowhere near.

(Edited by Phil Harris)

Militia commander Ziad Zabala (with a beard) poses next to three policemen at the entrance to the Jadu Police station. Credit: Karlos Zurutuza/IPS

By Karlos Zurutuza
JADU, Libya , Jan 2 2014 (IPS)

Everybody in this mountain village is seemingly familiar with the new regulations. “People other than militiamen or policemen will be fined 500 dinars [around 300 euros] for carrying guns,” local resident Younis Walid tells IPS.

”If the offence is repeated a second time, the fine will be double; you do it a third time and you are taken to prison,” adds the 21-year-old student, paraphrasing article 5 of the so-called Jadu Draft for a National Agreement.

Residents from all walks of life of Jadu, a Berber or Amazigh location 150 kilometres southwest of Tripoli, in the Nafusa mountain range, agreed on the ground-breaking document on Oct. 25.

“It´s a compilation of six elementary yet very necessary articles to handle security in our area. The power vacuum after the war is dragging the country towards chaos,” Shokri Agmar, a local lawyer, explains to IPS.

Almost three years after Muammar Gaddafi (1969-2011) was ousted, no date has yet been set for the election of a 60-member constituent assembly to draft a new constitution.

The process, expected to take place sometime in the first quarter of 2014, has failed to awaken enthusiasm among the population, especially the country´s minorities. The Amazighs, Tuaregs and Tubus altogether have only been granted six seats.

Meanwhile, the new government can hardly cope with the myriad armed groups who only pay allegiance to local, or even individual, interests. Last November, Tripoli witnessed the biggest spike in violence since the end of the war in 2011, when a peaceful demonstration against the impunity with which militias operate in the country’s capital ended with dozens killed and almost 500 injured.

“If our neighbours in Zintan [an Arab enclave in this predominantly Berber area] have not attacked us so far it´s only because they know that ours is also a very powerful militia. And this pattern applies to the whole country,” states Agmar. “All Libyan militias are preparing for war.”

It may well be a de facto rule for the rest of the country, but article 1 of the Jadu draft agreement grants official recognition to the local militia as the “main security force in the area alongside the local police.”

“There are 15 of us policemen in Jadu,” a local police officer told IPS. “We work in shifts of five men but we only deal with small issues as we do not have the training or equipment to tackle bigger threats. For the latter, the agreement states that we should get support from the local militia.”

The official didn´t want to disclose his name but had no problem getting his picture taken.

Whereas the higher ranks among the regime forces were removed after the revolution, regular policemen still receive a government salary. And communication with the local militia appears to be fluent. Commander Ziad Zabala shows up for a mid-morning coffee break.

“Luckily enough, Jadu is among the quietest places in Libya,” Zabala tells IPS before pointing on a map to the bypass roads locals take on their way down to Tripoli. “People here are peaceful but we have to watch to prevent aggressions from our neighbours in Zintan or those down the valley.

“None of us takes the direct route up here. You are likely to lose your car if you dare to cross that territory,” warns the former fighter who is now a paramilitary officer.

Sitting next to him, militia chief commander Yousif Said confirms that his force is “independent from the Libyan Ministry of the Interior.” Apparently, many other bodies and institutions also remain in some kind of legal limbo.

“We have no prison as such in Jadu so we have reached an agreement with the one in Gheryan [60 kilometres southeast of Tripoli] so they can host our prisoners until they go on trial,” Said tells IPS.

According to a United Nations report released in October 2013, around 8,000 detainees remain in custody without charges, under suspicion of fighting alongside Gaddafi’s troops. The report also highlighted that countless other individuals are held by local militias under conditions worse than the ones in the official prisons.

Article 4 in Jadu´s agreement exhorts the families of former prisoners who escaped after the war to hand them over to the local council authorities. And Article 3 gives the local elders full competence to settle disputes within the community.

“It´s a group of eight elected people who have historically enjoyed the support and respect of the community,” explains Shokri Agmar. “Whatever legal issue you have, you would ask for their help, but you would never turn to the official authorities,” adds this young lawyer from a lawless country.

According to Agmar, it was actually Jadu that mediated between Tripoli and Misrata after the clashes in November, a move which led to a progressive withdrawal of Misrata militias from the country´s capital.

Ruling the old way

Civil servants languish behind their desks at Jadu´s District Court, a three-storey building at the entrance to the village. All of them refuse to speak with IPS on the agreement in question.

From the empty corridors papered with portraits of those killed during the revolution, Agmar points out that the draft doesn´t explicitly take the District Court into account, but doesn’t reject it either.

“You never know, if this country ever starts to function normally we may need to include them at some point.”

For the time being, it´s difficult to know which is number one among Libya´s most pressing problems. Faizal Egira, a local teacher, shares his own view:

“A teacher in Libya only gets 600 dinars whereas a militiaman is earning 1000,” complains this teacher on strike from the town´s best-known pizza restaurant.

Egira, 50, admits that the agreement is a “starting-point rather than a definitive solution.”

Asma Bin, an NGO worker and also a native Berber, agrees. But she says she feels “rather sceptical” about the likelihood of any significant improvement in the short term.

“This is nothing new as every single town or village in Libya has its own rule,” explains the 30-year-old woman. “The only difference in Jadu is that they wrote it on a sheet of paper.”

One of the Berber militiamen blocking the gas and crude oil complex in Nalut, Libya. Credit: Karlos Zurutuza/IPS

By Karlos Zurutuza
ZWARA, Libya , Nov 9 2013 (IPS)

“Oil tankers won´t get crude from this port until Tripoli finally meets our demands,” says Younis, one of the Amazigh rebels today blocking one of Libya´s largest gas and crude oil plants.

Located 100 kilometres west of Tripoli, the Mellitah complex is a joint venture between the Italian oil and gas multinational ENI and Libya´s National Oil Corporation (NOC). The plant remains blocked since a group of armed activists took over the docking port for oil tankers, on Oct. 26. Younis provides IPS with the details:

“We arrived at night by sea from Zwara [the city near Mellitah] and we’ve been organising ourselves in shifts of 30 men,” explains the activist under the tent that hosts the command centre for this strategic location.

“We are the true guardians of the revolution” reads a banner displayed next to the tent.

“In 2011, we Amazighs took up arms against a regime that had treated us like dogs for decades. But two years later we are still struggling for our rights against the new Libyan government,” laments Younis, as he helps to unload supplies from a small boat that has just arrived.

Also called Berbers, the Amazigh are indigenous inhabitants of North Africa with a population extending from Morocco´s Atlantic coast to the west bank of the Nile, in Egypt. Touareg tribes deep in the Sahara desert share the same common language.

The arrival of the Arabs in the region in the seventh century was the starting point of a gradual process of Arabisation that was sharply boosted during Muammar Gaddafi´s four-decade rule in Libya. Estimates put the number of Amazighs in this country at around 600,000 – about 10 percent of the total population.

“The government does not recognise us and we do not recognise the government,” reads another of the banners displayed throughout the complex. Most of them are written in three languages: Arabic, English and Tamazight, the Amazigh language which also has its own alphabet.

“We´re strongly against the committee in charge of writing the new constitution, as we have literally no chance to achieve our rights as a people through it,” says Ayub Sufian, another member of the rebel group controlling the port.

He is referring to the 60-member constituent assembly set to work on the draft of Libya’s post-Gaddafi constitution. The crux of the matter seems to be the six-seat quota given to the country´s minorities.

“Two for the Amazigh, two for the Touareg and two for the Tubu [a group living in the far south of the country],” the rebel tells IPS.

“It is a system that will rule on majorities of two-thirds plus one, so you basically need 41 votes out of 60 to reach an agreement. What are our choices as non-Arab Libyans? We want our language to be co-official, and we want to be able to decide on key issues concerning the country,” says the rebel spokesman, who would favour an agreement “based on consensus, not on majorities.”

Today Sufian wears a camouflage uniform and a gun at his waist. But he is also one of the members of the Amazigh Supreme Council, an umbrella organisation for every Libyan Amazigh town. Most of the towns are distributed across the Nafusa mountain range, in the country´s northwest, but Zwara is an unexpected yet compact enclave on a flat coastal spot bordering Tunisia.

The lack of an effective central government in the country has led to a fragmentation of power along regional and tribal lines. The former insurgents against Gaddafi have turned into a myriad of militias, each one in control of their places of origin and who only pay loyalty to their local councils. And the Amazigh rebels blocking the plant are no exception.

“We receive a lot of food and supplies from Zwara. The whole city is with us,” Sufian claims.

The reasons behind the alleged “unconditional” support are detailed by Fathi Buzakhar, a senior Amazigh activist today working for the Libyan Centre for Strategic and Future Studies, an NGO with offices throughout the country.

“So far we have conducted many peaceful protests and we have also met several times with United Nations representatives, but it has simply not worked. The action in Mellitah takes it a step further,” Buzakhar tells IPS from his home in Tripoli.

“Our region in the Nafusa mountains played a key role in the takeover of Tripoli during the war. They used us and now they reject us under the ridiculous pretext that we are working under a foreign agenda,” laments Buzakhar, who recently visited the oil pipeline south of Nalut, 250 km southwest of Tripoli, which has also remained blocked by the Amazighs, since Sept. 29.

IPS also visited the complex, a cluster of pipes and solar panels under the control today of Amazigh militias from the Nafusa mountain range, Libya´s main Berber stronghold southwest of Tripoli.

“People are coming from every corner, even our Tuareg brothers from the south. They followed suit and blocked the Ubari plant [a complex run by Spain’s Repsol company,  700 km southwest of Tripoli], “ Jadu militia spokesman Omar Srika told IPS.

The rebel had a message to convey: “All this started as a move to get language recognition, but today we also want to tell all those interested in setting foot on Amazigh soil that they will have to take us into account from now on.”

So far the government has not made any military or political move on Mellitah and the Libyan parliament also decided not to address the issue in its last session, on Nov. 5.

In the meantime, blocking gas and crude oil complexes has seemingly turned into a trend to pressure the government across the country.

The crews of the anchored tugboats in Mellitah kill time fishing until a solution comes, while similar protests across the country have knocked down Libya´s crude production by 90 percent.

Workers at the Mellitah plant confirmed to IPS that while the country’s oil shipments -around 160,000 barrels of crude a day – remain interrupted, neither the complex nor its staff have suffered any damage, aggression or threats by the occupants.

However, the rebels say they are willing to take new steps in their protest.

“So far we have only cut oil supplies. Gas is flowing at 40 percent. But if our demands are not immediately addressed in the next few days we will also block the underwater gas pipeline completely,” a rebel spokesman told IPS at the port.

Collateral victims of the dispute between Tripoli and the Amazigh would then be the Italians, who would see their gas supplies on the brink at the gates of winter.