15 Years After Tripoli's Fall, Libya Still Bleeds Talent

London, United Kingdom – Sarah Mizran, a 32-year-old architect, was a teenager when Tripoli fell in August 2011, as opposition forces swept into the Libyan capital. That marked the end of Muammar Gaddafi's 42-year rule; he was captured and killed near Sirte shortly after.

Eight years ago, Mizran left the city for the United Kingdom. “Libya loses more than just skills when young professionals leave,” she told Al Jazeera. “The country loses a sense of possibility when an entire generation grows up thinking they must leave to build a future, and that leads to losing hope in your own country.”

For people like Mizran, that year's war sparked an exodus that has continued for 15 years. Already interested in sustainable architecture and its meaning for Libya, she pursued a master's in architecture in southern England. “Leaving was a decision to invest in my own growth, not a decision to abandon something,” she said. “Given the situation and conflicts, returning to Libya and building a career there has become even more difficult.”

She was 24 when she arrived in the UK on a scholarship at the University of Kent. “I had to learn a different professional culture, a different way of working, and in many ways find my place again. But that experience gave me perspectives and skills I otherwise wouldn't have had,” she shared.

She is not alone. Nader Elgadi, 36, ran his own media company in Tripoli when the second civil war erupted in late 2014, with fighting around the capital's airport. He too came to the UK for a master's and planned to return, but as threats against activists grew, he stayed. “I went from being self-employed and comfortable in Libya to having to start over from scratch in the UK. The first two years were very hard,” he recalled.

Elgadi founded Libya in the UK in 2018, a cultural charity “to create the Libya we wanted after ending the dictatorship.” The group organizes events for the Libyan diaspora to build “a sense of the country we have always yearned for.”

Home, 'Something We Create Many Times'

Fifteen years on, both consider the UK home, though Libya still pulls at them. “Home isn't something you find once and keep,” Mizran said. “It's something you create many times.” Elgadi calls himself a “nomad” and no longer expects to return for good soon, though his consulting firm still works with Libyan clients.

Whether the talent drain holds Libya back remains debated. Tarek Megerisi, a visiting fellow at the European Council on Foreign Relations, said “tens of thousands of technically competent people” still work in Libyan ministries, but they are hampered by senior officials with little interest in governance. He believes this stems from immediately after the revolution.

“After the revolution, Libyans from all over the world flocked back. Many were skilled young professionals, but there were also older Libyans with credentials and experience often exaggerated, using their status to grab political positions and promise to bring democracy. Instead, they behaved like the Gaddafi government,” Megerisi said. He argued that corruption thrives in some ministries, pushing the post-2011 generation to leave.

“Young professionals with qualifications and initial experience from the Gaddafi era, which was a bit more open, were genuinely excited that the revolution could boost their careers. It all sank into the mire… It's sad to see every ambitious young generation just wants to leave the country,” he said. He borrowed from Kahlil Gibran's poetry to describe Libya's governance: “Pity the nation that has two governments and no one cares to rule.” Megerisi believes talent “would return immediately if there were a real and credible opportunity.”

In contrast, Toby Chitayat, an associate at CRI Menas, a British risk consultancy, is more skeptical about the extent of the brain drain's damage. Compared to east-west divisions, volatile oil revenues, and rampant corruption, he sees its impact on governance or investor confidence as “relatively small,” but admits “it's too early to say anything definitive about prospects for a serious reconnection with the country.”

For those who have left, the calculus is more personal. Mizran has spent recent years surveying areas in Tripoli to study how rebuilding the city is not just about putting up new buildings. “As an architect, I want to be part of rebuilding Libya's architectural landscape. I don't know exactly what returning will look like, but I know it's still part of the future I'm working toward,” she said. “The country's stability will create a stronger wave of diaspora wanting to return. You can't simply call people back because the country needs them. You have to create a country where they can believe in and build a life.”