Between Exclusion and Resilience: Women and the Struggle for Political Space in Libya

Rawassei Abd Al Jalil, Journalist

In Tripoli’s quiet cafés and dusty streets, Libya’s political crossroads remains both hopeful and deeply frustrating. Elections meant to heal the fractures of the post‑Gaddafi state have stalled, rival administrations still claim legitimacy, and armed groups continue to assert control. In this uncertainty, one harsh truth stands out: Libyan women are still fighting for real power—not just permission to sit at the table.

Women appear in official lists and press snapshots, yet behind every photo there is a deeper struggle. They resist a political culture that remains stubbornly patriarchal, where leadership is equated with masculinity. They persist despite threats—whether veiled or overt—that can shadow anyone daring to speak up. And even when women do achieve entry into municipal councils, constitutional talks, or civil society platforms, they often find themselves tokenized or sidelined, expected to validate a façade of inclusivity without shaping the substance.

Still, women across the country are refusing to accept this fate. From the women in Sabha who organize relief for displaced families, to activists in Derna advancing environmental and social causes, to professionals in Tripoli pushing reform in transitional justice—they are weaving the fabric of Libya’s civic life. They are not waiting for permission; they are building the state from the ground up.

A glimmer of hope emerged in February 2025, when the United Nations Support Mission in Libya (UNSMIL) launched a 20‑member Advisory Committee, in line with Security Council Resolution 2755, charged with reviewing and proposing fixes to outstanding electoral and constitutional issues. This Committee includes legal and electoral experts—about 35% of whom are women—and is charged not with decision-making, but with crafting technically sound, politically workable options to unlock the pathway toward credible national elections.

They met first in Tripoli in early February, then again across Tripoli and Benghazi through May, culminating in a comprehensive set of recommendations now in UNSMIL’s hands. These proposals—focused on harmonizing the 6+6 electoral framework, strengthening legal safeguards, and providing realistic timelines—are being opened up for Libyan stakeholder consultations. It’s a pragmatic start, though the road ahead is riddled with mistrust, and Libyans remain sceptical: many fear political elites will resist anything that could genuinely redistribute influence.

For Libyan women, the urgency is not abstract. With local elections already underway, over 4,900 candidates nominated and 1,345 of them women, the stakes are immediate. But registration remains alarmingly low in eastern regions where security hurdles and bureaucratic inertia dominate. Everyday Libyan women are asking: if we step forward now, will our voices be heard or overridden?

This is why we must demand more than just representation. We must insist on agency—on the right to shape legislation, oversee execution, and challenge the status quo. We need enforceable gender quotas in future national laws. We need protections that shield female candidates from harassment, violence, and online intimidation. We must ensure that every stage of the political process—from constitutional dialogue to local council formation—is gender-sensitive and empowerment-driven.

At the same time, UNSMIL’s Advisory Committee must be held to more than transparency. We need visible accountability for gender inclusion. This means publishing disaggregated attendance data, opening space for civil society organizations to review proposals, and making gender-based concerns central—not peripheral—to all phases of reform.

Libya cannot move forward while half its population remains on the margins. This is not just a woman’s issue—it is a national issue. The credibility of any political settlement depends on its inclusivity. The sustainability of any renewed government depends on its legitimacy, and that legitimacy depends on all Libyans being able to participate, shape, and lead.

To the international community, I say: support us, but do not decide for us. To our UNSMIL‑appointed committee members—especially the women among you—I say: speak up, push hard, don’t be content with presence alone. And to my fellow Libyan women: keep writing, organizing, running, speaking. You are not tokens—you are architects of the new Libya.

History is not waiting. Neither should we!