The streets of Tripoli are buzzing again. Between hastily reopened shops and cranes rising toward an still uncertain sky, one question haunts people’s minds: how do you rebuild an economy in a country that knows no peace? In Libya, every step toward recovery seems suspended on an invisible thread, stretched between hope and instability.
An Economy Frozen by a Decade of Chaos
Since the fall of Muammar Gaddafi in 2011, Libya has never regained lasting equilibrium. Two rival governments, armed militias, foreign interventions: the country has been caught in a whirlwind of political instability. This prolonged conflict has devastated infrastructure, paralyzed institutions, and plunged millions of Libyans into economic uncertainty.
“We lost more than a president, we lost a generation of development,” says Selma Al-Misrati, economics professor at the University of Misrata. “The roads, the ports, the hospitals… everything needs to be rebuilt.”
According to the World Bank, Libya’s GDP fell by nearly 60% between 2012 and 2016. In 2020, the country recorded an unemployment rate exceeding 30%, with peaks of 50% among young people. Yet Libya remains one of Africa’s wealthiest countries in natural resources, particularly oil.
Oil, a Fragile Engine of Recovery
Libya holds Africa’s largest oil reserves, estimated at more than 48 billion barrels. This underground treasure represents nearly 95% of the country’s export revenues. But this wealth is also its Achilles’ heel.
“Every time fighting resumes, the oil terminals close. It’s as if the heart of the economy is being cut off,” explains Ahmed Ben Khalifa, an engineer at the National Oil Corporation (NOC). In 2020, blockades imposed by armed groups cost the country more than 11 billion dollars in just a few months.
Since 2021, a relative lull has allowed production to resume, reaching 1.2 million barrels per day. But this recovery remains fragile. Aging facilities and political tensions constantly threaten supply.
“Without security, there is no investment. And without investment, there is no growth,” summarizes the IMF’s regional director for the Middle East, Jihad Azour.
A Parallel Economy in Full Expansion
In the face of the collapse of state structures, another economy has developed in the shadows: that of the black market, trafficking, and foreign currencies. In Tripoli, Benghazi, or Sebha, informal currency exchange offices thrive, escaping all oversight.
“It’s the only way for many families to survive,” admits Rami, a 27-year-old Libyan who sells currencies on WhatsApp. “The dinar is worthless, so we exchange in dollars or euros.”
Money transfers, fuel smuggling, and illegal migration networks generate billions of dinars each year. This system feeds militias, but also entire families trapped in an informal economy that has become vital.
According to a UN report published in 2023, more than 40% of economic transactions in Libya now take place outside the legal framework.
The Private Sector, Between Boldness and Precariousness
Despite the risks, some Libyans dare to entrepreneurship. Young start-ups are emerging in the fields of digital technology, agriculture, and services. In Misrata, an incubator has seen about ten companies born in two years, often led by women.
“We can’t wait for the state to stabilize before acting,” says Hiba El-Kabir, founder of an online commerce platform. “Every day is a challenge, but also an opportunity.”
The private sector remains embryonic, however. Access to financing is virtually nonexistent, banks are cautious, and pervasive corruption hampers every initiative. In 2022, Libya ranked 171st out of 180 in Transparency International’s corruption perception index.
Yet, according to an African Union study, the country could create more than 500,000 jobs in five years if a favorable environment for the private sector were established.
Reconstruction, a Titanic Undertaking
Broken roads, dilapidated hospitals, closed schools: Libya needs to rebuild everything. The estimated cost of reconstruction exceeds 100 billion dollars. A colossal sum for a country whose institutions are still divided.
Pilot projects have emerged, particularly in the south of the country, with the support of the African Development Bank. In Sebha, a water network rehabilitation program restored access to drinking water for 60,000 residents.
But large-scale projects struggle to get started. Foreign companies hesitate to return, lacking guarantees. “We signed a contract to modernize Tripoli airport, but the work has been suspended for two years,” confides an executive from a Turkish group speaking anonymously.
Political fragmentation complicates coordination. Tenders are duplicated, decisions blocked. Without a unified government, efforts remain scattered.
What If Youth Held the Key?
With more than 60% of the population under 30 years old, Libya is a young country. This youth, often educated but unemployed, could become a lever for transformation.
“We don’t want to flee, we want to build here,” says Ayoub, 23, a student at the University of Benghazi. “But we need a minimum of stability.”
Local initiatives, often led by NGOs, attempt to restore hope: training programs, microcredits, reconciliation workshops. In Zawiya, a reintegration program has allowed former combatants to retrain as craftsmen.
But the road remains long. As long as weapons speak louder than ballots, the dreams of this youth risk being extinguished.
Libya moves forward, step by step, along a ridge between chaos and renewal. Can the economy truly be reborn without lasting peace? Or must we first believe in reconstruction for it to become reality?
