The Media Line: Where Is Life in Libya Heading after the Assassination of Saif al-Islam Gadhafi? 

Where Is Life in Libya Heading after the Assassination of Saif al-Islam Gadhafi? 

Whether Libya moves toward a unified state or renewed fragmentation now depends on whether a new mediator emerges to replace the one that is gone 

By Giorgia Valente / The Media Line  

The killing of Saif al-Islam Gadhafi removes from Libya’s political arena the last figure capable of simultaneously embodying the legacy of the former regime, engaging in tribal mediation, and participating in the post-revolution political process. More than a personal loss for his supporters, analysts describe the event as a structural rupture in a system that had gradually reorganized itself around his presence.  

Saif al-Islam had emerged after 2011 not as a restorationist leader in the traditional sense but as a negotiator between eras. He represented a constituency that never disappeared after the fall of his father Moammar Gadhafi, consisting of former officials, tribal networks, bureaucratic structures, and communities that experienced deterioration after the revolution.  

Other members of the family had long been removed from the political field. Some were killed during the uprising, others were sidelined, imprisoned, or politically marginal, leaving him as the only figure able to operate simultaneously in revolutionary Libya and in the memory of the previous state.  

Ibrahim M. S. Grada, a former Libyan ambassador and UN senior advisor, describes this role to The Media Line  in structural rather than personal terms: “During this period, the line led by Saif al-Islam emerged and advanced as the leading current among the various supporters of the former regime, to the extent that he became almost their official representative and the representative of their popular base.”   

Saif al-Islam also functioned as the only political reference point for what remained of the former Jamahiriyah constituency, often informally referred to as the “Greens.” This was never a unified ideological movement but a loose ecosystem made up of tribal strongholds, including the cities of Sirte and Bani Waled, bureaucratic networks embedded in state institutions, security officials from the previous system, and communities whose status deteriorated after 2011.  

Since the fall of the regime, these networks have survived less as an organized political party than as a dispersed social current waiting for representation. Over time, both western-based authorities in Tripoli and eastern authorities aligned with Khalifa Haftar attempted to absorb parts of this constituency into their own coalitions, particularly in the military and administrative spheres. Saif al-Islam’s relevance, therefore, lay not in controlling institutions but in remaining the only figure who could potentially consolidate these fragmented actors into a single negotiating bloc. 

His presence shaped political calculations even when he was absent from daily politics. The possibility that he could re-enter elections or endorse a camp forced rivals to treat the former-regime constituency as a decisive electoral and security factor. Without Saif al-Islam, that constituency does not disappear; it simply loses a focal point. It now faces a choice between dispersion into existing power centres or gradual political irrelevance—a shift that may reduce immediate confrontation while simultaneously weakening prospects for an inclusive settlement.   

Grada characterizes the magnitude of this event directly: “Saif al-Islam Gadhafi’s disappearance from the political scene is literally an earthquake, because the vacuum he left is difficult to fill.”  

On the ground, reaction has been limited to tiny demonstrations but remains psychologically significant. Misbah Omar, an Institute for Integrated Transitions expert on Libyan affairs, notes shock rather than mobilization. “Only in two cities, maybe Sirte, Bani Waled, the Libyan people took [to] the streets since they were shocked when they got the news. They didn’t expect Saif al-Islam could be alone without any security, any armed team to protect him. Nobody accepted that,” he told The Media Line.   

Omar also stresses uncertainty over responsibility. “About who killed him, I think nobody knows yet. There is a lot of pressure from the people on the ground, on the investigation office, and on the government to find that out.” 

This uncertainty contributes to a wider political reading with each faction interpreting the assassination through its own strategic lens. Omar points out that Saif al-Islam had multiple adversaries. “There’s kind of tension between Saif al-Islam and some countries abroad and some international organizations. He knew many secrets and could have been a target for that reason,” he noted.   

Libya’s divisions since the revolution have never followed a simple binary. The “pro” and “anti-Gadhafi” line that defined the civil war gradually evolved into overlapping political, economic, and local power struggles. Yet Saif al-Islam functioned as a rare cross-cutting actor linking those layers.   

“He succeeded in representing a political side in the Libyan equation as the central linking element between the different pro-regime constituencies socially, tribally, and politically,” Grada explained.   

His death risks refragmenting those constituencies: “This vacuum will produce competition among prominent figures of the former regime to replace him, and this competition will necessarily reflect on their social and political bases, and it will take a long time,” Grada added.   

Omar similarly anticipates redistribution of loyalties: “Before we had Saif al-Islam. Now we have only two representatives left—Abdul Hamid Dbeibah and Khalifa Haftar. Each one will try to polarize the former regime supporters to his side, fragmenting even more the situation.” 

Rather than resolving tensions, the removal of a controversial figure may dissolve a stabilizing center. Grada notes that emotional mobilization may occur only under escalation: “Unless a sharp political or military escalation occurs, even then it will not be easy socially or politically unless a leadership emerges with a developed narrative capable of uniting the popular base.”  

Omar’s assessment portends a lengthy political struggle: “We will see a long political struggle since the key for transition has been eliminated from the equation.”  

These scenarios will likely impact the elections, according to Grada: “All Libyan and international parties need time to understand the current developments, therefore the timing of the elections will likely be postponed,” he said.   

The Libyan state remains a negotiated space among armed actors, administrative networks, and international influence. Saif al-Islam’s absence affects each differently.   

Omar warns that his killing may not be an isolated event, but part of a broader pattern of political violence ahead: “More than Saif al-Islam will be killed. … Many important leaders or armed group leaders will be killed this year,” suggesting a potential phase of targeted eliminations accompanying this political vacuum.   

Grada describes possible institutional consequences: “Former regime figures still influential in the deep state may find themselves without political or social cover, which may increase chaos in state institutions.”   

Omar also situates the fragmentation within a wider external competition over the Libyan state itself: “We have three different projects for Libya right now—one supported by Egypt, another under the influence of the United States but not clear, and a third led by the United Nations.” He noted that public trust in international mediation, especially in the UN, has eroded.   

“More than 12 countries [which are] part of the Security Council are supporting opposing armed groups in Libya,” he added,  reinforcing the extent to which domestic political balance is intertwined with foreign security calculations.   

Both interviews converged on the same structural issue—reconciliation depended on representation.   

 “Saif al-Islam was the only leader who could represent all the former regime; now nobody knows who should talk to whom,” Omar observed, while Grada noted that “national reconciliation needs political, economic, and social reconciliation. The first step is decentralization, maybe a federal system with 13 or 16 states,” with a connection to building a state.  

Grada links this to economic governance as well, arguing that centralized control over resources had reinforced corruption and exclusion, and that redistribution of economic authority to municipalities will be necessary for reconciliation to function in practice.   

Omar similarly focuses on administrative reform, instead of focusing on funding the army: “We need to reform the Ministry of Interior, not the army. Only this will allow us to go back on track. Ideally, we are trying to establish all these processes in a maximum two years.”   

Since independence, Libya has repeatedly reorganized its political order: monarchy, revolutionary republic, and fragmented post-revolution state. The removal of Saif al-Islam does not restore the past nor complete the revolution; it eliminates a bridge between them.   

Grada describes the social pressure behind potential unrest: “Declining living standards, widespread corruption, and increasing inequality may lead to a new uprising—more likely chaotic disorder—which benefits no one.”  

Saif al-Islam’s political importance lay not in governing, but in structuring competition. He represented a bloc that could be negotiated with. Without him, the bloc dissolves into multiple actors—tribal, political, bureaucratic, and armed. 

That shift changes Libya’s transition from a negotiation among defined sides into a fluid contest among overlapping networks. The assassination does not resolve the post-2011 conflict. It removes one of the few actors capable of translating the past into the present.  

Whether Libya moves toward a unified state or renewed fragmentation now depends less on ideology than on whether a new mediator—institutional or personal—emerges to replace the one that is gone.