In May 2014 Libyan General Khalifa Haftar launched a then-unauthorized military operation from Benghazi, Libya’s second-largest city. The operation, which Haftar named Karama, or Dignity, was centered on but not limited to Benghazi; its declared aim was to eradicate what Haftar and his associates described as terrorism. However, it prompted a swell of armed opposition from those who suspected it was a pretext for the septuagenarian general’s ambition to rule Libya.
On July 5, 2017, Haftar announced the complete “liberation” of Benghazi, although fighting in the downtown area of Sidi Khreibish only ended in January 2018. Between 2014 and 2018, Benghazi underwent the most significant transformation in its modern history, with displacement, dispossession, and the killing of thousands overturning generations-old social and economic dynamics. The consequences shaped not only the city’s current trajectory but also political and social developments in Libya more generally.
The four-year conflict resulted in the destruction of large areas of Benghazi; in 2021, its municipality said it had documented more than 6,000 properties that had been partially or wholly damaged during the fighting. Moreover, it divided families and neighbors, prompted the most extensive displacement in postcolonial Libya, and created new forms of identity rooted in grievance and partisan narratives of what had sparked the conflict. In a country where the legacy of Muammar Gaddafi–era property redistribution remained an obstacle to reconciliation, widespread seizures of property and land both during and after the fighting drove further antagonism in Benghazi.
Soon after its launch, Operation Dignity gained significant public support among the residents of Benghazi, who were becoming increasingly frustrated with deteriorating security. A series of assassinations had roiled the city. Former regime security personnel were targeted, along with civil society activists, judges, and journalists. The killings—mostly drive-by shootings and car bombings—generated both fear and widespread anger. Many commentators blamed groups, including Ansar al-Sharia, designated an al-Qaeda affiliate by the United States in January 2014 after it was linked to the 2012 diplomatic mission attack in which US ambassador Chris Stevens and several of his colleagues were killed.
Apart from its suspected role in the assassinations and bombings that shook Benghazi, Ansar al-Sharia had long unnerved many. The debate over how to address the problem of the group and its associates’ growing presence and influence in the city had divided residents before the launch of Dignity, and subsequently proved one of the main drivers of the ensuing conflict.
Operation Dignity began with attacks—including air strikes—on Ansar al-Sharia, as well as several armed groups that identified as “revolutionary” rather than Islamist. Faced with a common threat, a number of these militias united with Ansar al-Sharia under an umbrella group they named the Benghazi Revolutionaries Shura Council (BRSC). Some groups that did not join BRSC continued to fight alongside it. The prominence of Ansar al-Sharia within the BRSC alliance benefited Haftar and his allies, serving to buttress their claim that their opponents were terrorists. When an Islamic State group affiliate emerged in Benghazi in late 2014, it recruited scores of Ansar al-Sharia members, who joined returnees from Syria and foreign fighters. Beheadings and other brutal tactics associated with the Islamic State group in Syria and Iraq became a feature of the fighting in Benghazi, and helped consolidate popular support for Dignity.
These developments reinforced the views of those who had warned that a “force only” approach to Benghazi’s extremism challenge, together with Haftar’s scattershot targeting of a wide range of factions he considered a threat to his personal ambitions, risked not only radicalizing a far larger cohort but also pushing Benghazi into a long internecine war.
After the war, it was clear several new societal dynamics had emerged in the city. These dynamics were often shaped by perceptions of who had lost and who had gained from the conflict. Among those who had fought for or staunchly supported Dignity, there was a triumphalist mood. Several appeared to benefit materially, taking over abandoned properties or participating in Benghazi’s war economy. There was a reshuffling of key posts in the city, with existing personnel replaced with individuals from eastern tribes now considered “victors” due to their support of Haftar and his operation.
Benghazi residents who had not participated in the conflict but who adopted the Dignity narrative of how and why it had started were relieved to see Ansar al-Sharia and its associates gone. Many bonded through a collective memory of the conflict as solely a battle against terrorism, and in the process created new social milieus and civil society organizations.
Other social dynamics brought about by the war caused concern among the city’s population. The influence wielded by the Madkhali Salafists prompted much trepidation. As Haftar advanced through Benghazi during the war, the armed Madkhalis he had recruited took over mosques and religious institutions in the city. Later fully entrenched, the Madkhalis issued rulings against women traveling without a male guardian; called for all gatherings to be gender segregated; denounced any celebration of the Prophet Muhammad’s birthday, traditionally a popular holiday in Libya; prohibited demonstrations as sinful; and intimidated civil society actors and cultural institutions.
Another dynamic was the emergence of a stronger regional identity. This was particularly evident among a younger generation that had little adult experience of pre- Dignity Benghazi. The black flag of the short-lived Emirate of Cyrenaica (1949–51)—more recently associated with federalists seeking greater autonomy for eastern Libya and hard-line separatists—became an increasingly common sight in the city.
Benghazi also began to look different. While the reconstruction of neighborhoods damaged during the war was piecemeal, other parts experienced a building boom. In many cases, the increased construction was related to economic predation by Haftar’s inner circle—particularly his sons, a number of whom were given military ranks without any background or training—and their Libyan Arab Armed Forces units. In 2021, Osama al-Kizza, head of municipal planning in Benghazi, warned that a surge in unregulated construction was resulting in districts that lacked roads, water, sanitation systems, and other infrastructure.
A decade after Operation Dignity tipped Benghazi into four years of fighting, the people of the city—whether residents, internally displaced, or displaced overseas—continue to disagree about what caused the war and why it lasted so long. The trajectory of the conflict has been the subject of much revisionism, but there is consensus that Benghazi experienced an unprecedented transformation as a result. The social and economic dynamics that emerged from the 2014–18 war not only upended what had been a generations-old status quo. They also gave rise to new identities, both among the majority of Benghazi residents who were broadly favorable toward Dignity and among those who opposed the operation and were exiled. Partisan narratives of the war have created powerful communal bonds in its aftermath. The disappearance, detention, or killing since 2018 of prominent figures who were erstwhile allies or supporters of Haftar, among them a female parliamentarian, a female lawyer, and a former Dignity commander, has in some cases prompted disquiet and the questioning of both the current Haftar-dominated status quo and the operation that led to it.
While many of the displaced have resettled in Benghazi, others who were displaced due to their opposition to Dignity or wider political views believe it remains unsafe for them to return. The city presents a particularly difficult challenge for greater reconciliation in Libya. In the absence of any comprehensive reconciliation efforts, it is unlikely that the decade-old divisions among extended families, neighbors, and communities that once called Benghazi home can be resolved.
Mary Fitzgerald is a writer, researcher, and consultant specializing in the Mediterranean region, with a focus on Libya. She has worked on Libya for more than a decade. She spent several months on the ground during Libya’s 2011 uprising, lived in Tripoli in 2014, and continues to make regular trips to the country.
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