Reality is constructed through the lived experiences of individuals. Understanding how an individual navigates through the world is a lot about understanding how they perceive the world and the lens through which they make sense of it. It is also what defines what they believe to be right and wrong and how their morality is forged and challenged. We live in a world where various parallel realities exist in the same physical space. The official narrative put forward by the state does not necessarily reflect the reality experienced by the citizens. This is very much the case in countries where a gap exists between the state and its citizens. Citizens experience a reality through which they interact with the state and another through which they interact with each other. When both realities clash, a glitch in the social order occurs.

For long, I’ve wanted to write a piece to jot down my reflections on Janzouri social order as a Janzouri who has lived most of her life outside of Janzour. The aim of this piece is to merely share my ideas and thoughts out of my personal interest in the city. I have always been fascinated by how societies structure themselves and how different communities navigate through their inter and intra group relations. I have always thought that it would be very interesting to have more people write and reflect about the particular aspects of different Libyan communities: how are they structured, what defines them, how are values forged within the community and who has the ability to change communal norms. These are all things I reflect about when I interact with a new community, and here, I share my thoughts about my own city and birthplace.

I have written this article in pieces during different periods, each section is labeled according to the issue I discuss.

1. Where does the city lie?

The state-recognised boundaries of Janzour are different to the boundaries that live within the minds of Janzouris. Janzour, for Janzouris, is less about land ownership and more about a large web of family networks which identify themselves to be Janzouri. Janzouris, as opposed to Janzour residents, are people who inhabit an imaginary space, a parallel social realm in which reality is slightly different and morality is forged and guided by the community. This shall be discussed more further down.

In the mind of Janzouris, Janzour’s physical boundaries ends at the last Janzouri family settlement. By family settlements, I mean a group of families, probably constituting a branch of another bigger family, who collectively inhabit an area and where you can identify the nucleus of that family. The nucleus is the centre of the family unit that ties the entire family together. This could be the old family house, or a family elder whose power, influence and legitimacy in the family ties it together, or a joint family business or other manifestations that tie the family together and unite their fate. A couple of families inhabiting small towns such as Sayyad does not make it Janzouri enough, as no major Janzouri family has its nucleus (the old family house for example) situated in Sayyad. And if it does, the family has not created a well-established settlements around it to render it part of Janzouri land. This is also relevant as we speak of the long debated boundaries of Janzour’s southern borders in Njeela. In reality, no Janzouri could claim that the entirety of Njeela is considered to be part of Janzouri land, but would identify the Southern boundary to be up to the furthest Janzouri settlement. In fact, the mass displacement of many Janzouri families from Njeela during its latest conflicts with its neighbours, where one could no longer see a strong Janzouri settlement in the city, has pushed northwards the boundaries of Janzour in the minds of many Janzouris. Although many would argue otherwise, but subconscious, many no longer perceive that large parts of Njeela are Janzouri per se.

This shows that the setting up of such imaginary boundaries in the Janzouri mind is much less about who owns the land, or who lives in the land, because in many cases, Janzouri lands are populated with majority non-Janzouris, but it is much more about rooted family settlements. This does not mean that the settlements need be ancient as many lands in Janzour are considerably newly inhabited, but it is about the birthplace of a specific Janzouri family branch. A powerful and large family which was able to acquire large pieces of land and which mushroomed fast enough to occupy such lands, could establish this sense of settlement much faster than other less powerful and less economically-able families. With it, the family could also be extending or altering the imaginary boundaries of Janzour. Sarraj, as an example, could never qualify to be Janzouri not because of the lack of Janzouri families, but the lack of a Janzouri family settlement that could push Janzour’s imaginary boundaries up to Sarraj as well. However, recently, various Janzouri families have been re-settling in the borders between Sarraj and Janzour, furtehr altering the imaginary borders of the city in the minds of Janzouris.

Any historical narrative I have come across about the city discussing what constitutes Janzouri lands looks into a similar reflection of family settlements.

2. The Janzouri Dominance over Janzour

Anyone who has lived in Janzour long enough would have detected the Janzouri vs non-Janzouri dichotomy that is at play. For a period of time, there was a further distinction between original Janzouris vs subsequent Janzouri inhabitants (here we are speaking of families who have been living in Janzour for many generations but whose origins are believed to not be from Janzour). I believe that the second distinction is somewhat vanishing amidst rising strong Janzouri ‘collective consciousness‘ . There are two main social realms that co-exist in Janzour, one is inhabited and experienced by Janzouris, the other by non-Janzouris (where Janzouris occasionally also interact).

Janzouris’ experience of Janzour is characterized by a large network of families who for a long while were closed off from the rest of the country, and who continue to encourage intra-Janzouri marriages and discourage the interference of non-Janzouris into Janzouri affairs. This fear of empowering the non-Janzouris is especially high today as the Janzouris are more aware that they are becoming a minority within their own lands. You would often hear people discouraging others from selling land to non-Janzouris or local businessmen spreading the word around that if anyone wishes to sell Janzouri land, they would rather buy it themselves than allow its sale to non-Janzouris, also called ‘Barraniya’ – outsiders. In the minds of Janzouris, Janzouri dominance over Janzour would remain as long as Janzouris continue to inter-marry and keep land and wealth within the community. A common comment one would hear as well is that the power and influence of Janzouris in the city has been dwindling since Janzouris started selling their lands to outsiders.

Families who own large pieces of land would be much more resistant to marrying off their daughters to non-Janzouris, out of fear that once they are eligible to inherit, this land would be lost to the ‘outsiders’. A man who marries off his daughter to a non-Janzouri is said to be planting an ‘outsider’ among the family. It is not unheard of that females are denied the right to inherit land, and are instead compensated otherwise, because of this. Obviously, the offspring of Janzouri women from non-Janzouri partners are conditionally allowed into the Janzouri social realm, but are always labeled as the sons of ‘outsiders’. The offspring of Janzouri men married to non-Janzouris occupies a higher rank in Janzour, as children bare the identity of their fathers. However, nonetheless, they would often be identified as the sons of the ‘outsider’. Less powerful families whose wealth is much less dependent on their ownership of land, are much more likely to be open to allowing marriages to non-Janzouris. However, families who allow too many marriages with ‘outsiders’ would soon lose some of their power and legitimacy within the Janzouri social realm. They could be very well respected within the community but they would not be the shapers of communal morality or sources of communal wisdom. They have little effect in shaping or changing strictly Janzouri communal practices and norms and their legitimacy within this closed Janzouri social order is questionable.

This further highlights the dichotomy that exists in Janzour, the difference between the public realm (inhabited by non-Janzouris and occasionally by Janzouris) and the closed social Janzouri realm. Some actions that a Janzouri would do would be informed by his experience of the world whilst he was inhabiting the public realm. Other actions are informed by this closed Janzouri social order. The two realities exist in parallel and Janzouris navigate through both depending on who they are interacting with. Therefore, whilst someone could hold a lot of legitimacy within the public realm, he could hold little, if any, legitimacy in the closed Janzouri social order. Legitimacy in the public realm is very much linked to your profession, your experience, your network outside the Janzouri circle, your relationship with authorities, your economic standing, your general reputation etc… People would resort to you for support or advice in a context relevant to the source of your legitimacy. Legitimacy in the closed Janzouri social order means you have the ability to alter what community sees as right and wrong, you are able to effect how society structures itself and you are able to judge actions of others within the same social circle.

The dilemma is, then, when both realms clash, perfectly exemplified in the local council elections. Between electing Janzouris who have strong legitimacy in the closed social realm, and electing people who are technocrats and are respected in the public realm because of their work and experience; the choice was not an easy one.

An interesting analysis that could be carried out is to analyse is the role that the local council has played in the city since it assumed its duties and how much legitimacy it holds in both social realms. It could inform any future discussions about local governance in Libya.

3. Janzouri Patronage System

Non-Janzouris are generally easily identifiable. Besides the fact that they do not hold Janzouri surnames (but again, many surnames in Libya are repeated in various cities), it is the way they talk about Janzour and their experience of the city that sets them apart. Janzouris’ experience of Janzour is based on this web of familial networks that holds together the Janzouri social order. Janzouris experience Janzour through these networks. The easiest way to identify non-Janzouris is to ask for direction. Janzouris would give you directions based on family houses and attribute areas to families who inhabit that area. Non-Janzouris would stick to known landmarks or official street names or refer to shops and might occasionally refer to family lands. Another aspect that sets Janzouris and non-Janzouris apart is the extent of their knowledge of family relations in the city. It is the ability to trace back any other Janzouri family to your family. Someone from that family must have married someone who must have had some relation to someone from your family. The power and status of the families who are part of this chain of familial relations also reflects your own status and membership to the social order.

But even more fascinating is the patronage system that exists in the city. You do not enter the Janzouri social order automatically by virtue of living in the city. You could live in Janzour your entire life but never fully be part of the social order. To enter the Janzouri social order, you need to be introduced and strongly recommended by another Janzouri family. The status of your patron within the social order also defines your entry status, and the speed at which you are able to enter the social order is also dependent on the power and status of your patron. For a long while, the ‘outsider’ would be attached to the patron who had introduced him. S/he is the friend of Family X, or the neighbour of Family Y. Being able to attend social events does not mean that you are part of the social order. Being part of the social order means that you have reached a point during which duties and rights are being inferred upon you by society automatically by virtue of being part of the network. There are social duties that now you must fulfill without being asked. You no longer enjoy the privileged status of the ‘outsider’ who can selectively choose how to interact with society. You are no longer invited, you are obliged to attend certain social events. If you do not attend, society will take offense. Obviously, your adherence to such social duties facilitates your entry to the Janzouri social order. This, however, means that you are also to be scrutinized through a different set of moral principles and you are allowing society a much greater degree of freedom to be involved in what you may have previously seen as private matters.

Being part of the social order brings with it various benefits as well. You are more likely to benefit from social empathy in case you require it. You are now protected by the Janzouri social umbrella, and in many cases, this also gives you a stronger case when you are dealing with the local militia, who are also part of this social order. You are able to access to basic services easier through the network and during difficult times, you are much more supported. Janzouris attribute the relative stability that the city experiences to its strong Janzouri social order. Many would argue that it is this strong social order that keeps the local Janzouri militia under check and at times, hold it accountable for its actions. It is also this strong social order that has prevented major inter-city conflicts from taking place as the city enjoys relative safety and stability. It could also be argued that it is this delicate balance that exists between a strong Janzouri social order and a parallel public civil sphere, that has allowed for the co-existence of Janzouris and others in the same space without any violent confrontations. In fact, even as violent confrontations were taking place between armed groups in Janzour and armed groups in neighbouring Wershifana, and as Wershifana armed groups retaliated by taking control of what Janzouris would think is Janzouri land in Njela, we did not see any retaliation or violent conflict breaking between both groups within the city. This happened despite the growing number of Wershifanis inhabiting Janzour, many of which have now formed part of the Janzouri social order. One could also note that Wershifanis, however, are not unconditionally allowed into the social order and continue to enjoy a conditional membership to the Janzouri social order. This membership is reduced if they out-rightly and vocally express their allegiance with Wershifani armed forces during a Janzour/Wershifana armed conflict.

Obviously, the Janzour/Wershifana relationship is an interesting one which would require much more reflection, knowledge and experience to discuss. The intersection of concepts related to land ownership, family ties, urbanisation, hisrotical narratives and how they shape identities come into play. The narrative is always bias based on who is writing, as one’s lived experience of the ‘other’ influences the way they speak of the ‘other’.

4. Conclusion

Understanding how a society structures itself is essential for developing effective governance strategies and for building institutions that resonate with the local population and create legitimacy. In a deeply decentralized and fragmented society, one which is divided by political affiliations, conflict and geography, it is essential to recognize the societal differences that exist within each social order. Speaking of a ‘one Libya’ is no longer viable and speaking of ‘the Libyan’ is no longer enough. Today we speak of the Libyas and the Libyans, a group of social orders which interact, overlap and co-exist but are not necessarily as homogeneous as is showcased.

There are two images that come to my mind as I think of the Berlin Conference. The first, is the Conference family photo where the leaders of some of the world’s most influential states and other regional growing powers, most of them part of the proxy war in Libya, line up for a friendly photo. It was business as usual. Leaders greeted each other, parties supporting opposing factions in the conflict stood next to each other and if you did not know it was a conference about Libya, you would not have guessed that it was a conference about Libya.

On the other hand, comes to my mind the photos of Sarraj and Haftar as they sat around a table opposite Merkel and some of her advisers, presumably discussing the current offensive in the Libyan capital. Both parties refused to meet and face each other. Media stations of both parties tried tirelessly to picture the Berlin conference as a victory for their ’cause’. It was obvious that both parties were not yet ripe for a possible peace negotiation. Fighting escalated in the Libyan capital as Haftar-backed tribal leaders stopped oil production. Sarraj and Haftar met Merkel separately. The tension was very obvious. The tension at home was high.

But as Sarraj had his Minister of Foreign Affairs and Minister of Interior Affairs join him for the meetings, Haftar chose to have two of his guards, both from a powerful tribe in Eastern Libya and both very closely related to him. At first glance, our ‘liberal and progressive’ selves could easily jump into the conclusion that this is proof that Haftar is unable to lead Libya towards becoming a democratic progressive state because he continues to harbour conservative tribal ideologies which have plagued the Libyan political scene for years and held the country back from developing independent strong institutions. However, this conclusion, as true as it might be, overlooks the societal governance dynamics at play in Libya and undermines the importance of the family and tribe as the nucleus of Libyan social order.

One must acknowledge the large support that Haftar continues to enjoy in a significant parts of Libya, especially as one moves farther away from the main cities. Haftar is a familiar face to the Libyan society. He represents the strict but self-righteous head of the family , who is not to be questioned and who is exclusively entrusted with the mission of ensuring that the family survives and thrives. Haftar’s ability to navigate through the tribal social web of connections, which is based on favors and social debts as well as familial alliances, has given him the ability of facilitated mobility within the web of family connections which ultimately weaves the Libyan social fabric and holds the Libyan society together. The presence of Haftar’s family members in the Berlin meetings might look absurd from a foreign lens, but should not be downplayed by those familiar with the Libyan social order. It represents continued support from his family and tribe, it represents familial unity and power, it represents familiar Libyan values to the Libyan audience. If you had to settle a dispute with someone from a neighbouring city in Libya, you would prepare for an official visit of men, similar to the Berlin Conference, where prominent members of your family would meet with prominent members of the opposing family, both using their power and social connections to impose a deal that is more beneficial to them. If you show up with your lawyers instead, that already means that you have either willingly left the Libyan web of social circles, or you have been expelled. In both cases, you are powerless and have no real societal influence and are in no strong position to negotiate.

On the other hand, if we had to see it from a Libyan societal perspective, we know little about Sarraj, Seyala (Minister of Foreign Affairs) or Bashaga (Minister of Interior Affairs). We know little about their families, their tribes, their social circles. We know little about the kind of relationship that ties them together. We know for sure that it is definitely not as strong as Haftar’s familial ties, sealed by blood and common ancestry. They might hold legitimacy in their respective small scale social circles and familial ties, but they did not invest much in strengthening their presence within, and not above, the Libyan social order.

But this is not all. Haftar’s decision making processes, his rhetoric, his narrative, his vocabulary are all familiar. The everyday Libyan citizen can easily relate to what he says. The underlying value systems upon which Haftar makes his decisions and carefully crafts his speeches is relatable to Libyans as it mirrors their own value systems, and does not present any threat to societal values. [I shall write a blog about this in more detail soon.] Haftar’s media, in comparison to Sarraj’s media, mobilises influential societal figures who represent the converging points of various societal and familial connections and provide Haftar with grassroots legitimacy which Sarraj’s government could never hold. Sarraj’s more ‘progressive’ media which favours younger faces, a supposedly more inclusive palette of presenters, and attempts, not always successfully, at presenting itself as a technocratic media station, could never relate to tribal Libyan society as much as Haftar is able to. All in all, Haftar was able to create a governance system that is a larger projection of Libyan tribal society so well that he was able to win their trust probably more than Gaddafi ever could.

This blog, however, is not an attempt at legitimising a possible Haftar victory. On the contrary, I believe that the only way to propose an alternative that could enjoy societal support which supersedes that of Haftar whilst upholding a degree of inclusive democratic values [this in itself requires an entire blog post to explore] is to learn from Haftar. Moving forward, any peace negotiations must have this understanding at heart. An internationally imposed government structure will not work. A tweaked version of a western-styled government structure will not work either. The Libyan progressives’ obsession with having government institutions which mirror those of more developed western states, overlooks the on ground realities of the Libyan social order dynamics. Unfortunately, we are at a time where concessions must be made and a balance reached between upholding international standards of democratic governance with local, grassroots and indigenous forms of governance.

We need to have a thorough and encompassing mapping exercise of the de facto existing governance structures in Libya, this should look into the role of family, tribe, cities, historical rivalries, environmental factors, resources etc… This mapping exercise would explore various forms of indigenous governance mechanisms that could be revived, experimented with, improved, tweaked and potentially included within the general framework of governance. This could empower a true bottom-up approach to governance which recognises already existing informal governance mechanisms, subjects them to accountability before the law, unlike their current status of near absolute impunity, and ensure legitimacy. In this manner, reform is not superficial but takes places at the heart of society.

To conclude, the Berlin Conference was an irresponsible move from various world leaders who continue to alienate Libyans throughout the decision making process. The Berlin Conference came across as imperialistic, it further strengthened the legitimacy of both warring factors as they emerged as victors. After all, the process was so alien and distant from the Libyan population that their leaders could have made up anything and they would have believed it. The Conference perhaps halted, or at least paused, a proxy war, but failed to understand the resonance of such unilateral decisions on the families and cities who are completely dedicated to the fighting on ground. The fighting continues in Tripoli in the meantime.