http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/middleeast/la-fg-libya-dangerous-20130331,0,4597838.story

Libya's south teeters toward chaos — and militant extremists
Libya's long-neglected, isolated southern region has grown more lawless since 
the fall of Moammar Kadafi. Only ill-trained tribal militias hold Islamist 
extremists at bay.
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      A celebrant in Benghazi, Libya, waves the national flag a commemoration 
of the second anniversary of the revolution that drove Moammar Kadafi from 
power. A weak post-Kadafi central government has left a security vacuum in the 
country's isolated south. (Mohammad Hannon / Associated Press / February 15, 
2013) 
     

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By Jeffrey Fleishman, Los Angeles Times 
March 30, 2013, 4:57 p.m.
SABHA, Libya — Their fatigues don't match and their pickup has no windshield. 
Their antiaircraft gun, clogged with grit, is perched between a refugee camp 
and ripped market tents scattered over an ancient caravan route. But the 
tribesmen keep their rifles cocked and eyes fixed on a terrain of scouring 
light where the oasis succumbs to desert. 


"If we leave this outpost the Islamist militants will come and use Libya as a 
base. We can't let that happen," said Zakaria Ali Krayem, the oldest among the 
Tabu warriors. "But the government hasn't paid us in 14 months. They won't even 
give us money to buy needles to mend our uniforms."

Krayem is battling smugglers, illegal migrants bound for Europe and armed 
extremists who stream across a swath of the Sahara near the porous intersection 
of southern Libya, Chad, Niger and Algeria. Since the 2011 Arab uprisings that 
swept away Moammar Kadafi and other autocrats, Western countries and Libya's 
neighbors fear that this nation may emerge as an Islamist militant foothold.

Kadafi was replaced by a weak central government that has struggled with 
economic turmoil and the lack of judicial reform and a new constitution. The 
long-neglected south has grown more lawless. The Al Qaeda-linked militants, 
including Libyans, behind the January assault on a natural gas processing 
complex in Algeria that killed at least 37 foreigners traveled from Mali 
through Niger and Libya's poorly patrolled hinterlands.

While the Libyan national army is rebuilding, the country is relying in part on 
ill-trained tribal militias rife with grievances, feuds and agendas. This 
volatile mix holds sway in the country's southwest and in the northeast, where 
last year militants killed four Americans, including Ambassador J. Christopher 
Stevens, and trafficked guns and missiles to extremists in Egypt's Sinai 
Peninsula and the Gaza Strip.

"Our concern is the Mali situation coming here," said Fathallah Ali, assistant 
to the president of the local council in Sabha. "Much of the sophisticated and 
heavy weaponry looted from Kadafi's military went to Islamic militants there 
and other parts of Africa. Al Qaeda is moving in this direction."

Even under Kadafi, the nation produced Islamic militants who reached well 
beyond the country's borders. Libyan extremists are now connected to an Al 
Qaeda branch in Algeria, rebels in Syria and the fighters trying to establish 
an Islamic caliphate in Mali. Security officials also are concerned about 
reports of militant training camps with caches of weapons hidden in the desert 
south of Sabha.

Government officials in the south shy away from discussing the region's chaos. 
An activist was recently shot and killed after publicly criticizing the lack of 
law and order. Much of the danger stems from tribal animosities that were 
suppressed during four decades of Kadafi's rule and are now playing out in the 
kind of security vacuum that Islamic militants have exploited in countries such 
as Somalia and Yemen.

The Tabu, who are Africans, have been battling the rival Arab Awlad Sulayman 
clan for more than a year. At least 130 people have died. Peace talks have been 
complicated by joblessness, rising drug and alcohol abuse and skirmishes over 
smuggling networks stretching from the borders of Algeria and Chad.

The streets of Sabha, the main city in the south, rattle with gunfire and the 
gripes of desperate men waiting for work, sitting on dusty curbs with buckets, 
paint rollers and chisels. Jailbreaks are common. Libyan news reports said in 
January that three bodyguards were wounded when gunmen fired on a hotel housing 
Mohammed Magarief, president of the national congress.

In the city's hospital, doctors are pistol-whipped and patients shot in their 
rooms by rival tribesmen. The sick slump in hallways. There is no CT scan or 
MRI machinery; a trauma victim is likely to die before he can be driven 400 
miles north to a better hospital in Tripoli.

"We're treating illnesses we've never seen before in languages we don't 
understand," said Dr. Othman Habib, a pediatrician. "More and more migrants are 
coming from Chad and Mali. Libya's borders are open and poorly guarded. We 
never saw malaria before, but now we see it all the time. We're overwhelmed. 
The hospital is full of germs and bacteria. Rats. This is shameful, but it's 
true."

A bereft father, his tunic wet with the blood of a son hit by a car, walked 
past.

"One man was brought in with a gunshot wound not long ago," said Habib. "We 
fixed him and put him in intensive care. But his enemies came to the hospital 
that night and shot him 18 times. We operated and he lived. We hid him in the 
women's ward and then sneaked him out of town."

Dr. Yusef Farag, a surgeon, listened and said, "We have 200 beds. We've turned 
500 people away. This hospital serves the whole south, but we can admit no 
more. We have no neurosurgeon. We have no oncology doctor. There are too many 
weapons and too many comas. It's a disaster."

Despair permeates the dirt alleys not far from the hospital that curl through 
the cinder block slums of Tabu tribesmen.

"Clashes between border tribes have increased," said Adam Ahmed Dazi, a Tabu 
councilman who sat at a desk stamping papers while complaining about the lack 
of financial support from Libya's central government. "Tribal militias and 
smugglers have better arms. But smuggling is in the hands of rich people with 
trucks. The Tabu in this neighborhood barely have bicycles. But we are like a 
towel. Everyone wipes the bad on us."

He sighed, his narrow frame almost lost in his coat.

"When you look at the revolution," he said, "not much has changed in the 
southern tribal areas. It hasn't gotten better, except that we are now free to 
practice our traditions without fear anymore of the racist Kadafi regime."

The road out of Sabha cuts through a green blush of oasis and a series of 
checkpoints — the first controlled by a militia, the second by the national 
army — in a strange hodgepodge of overlapping interests. Krayem and his Tabu 
tribesmen, their faces covered with scarves and sunglasses, guard a third 
checkpoint near rock formations at the edge of blowing sands.

"The desert is wide with many roads," said Krayem, a man seemingly wearing away 
bit by bit. His teeth are loose, a nostril is gouged and he is missing a finger 
that was shot off by soldiers exacting retribution for his defection from 
Kadafi's army during the revolution.

"Anything forbidden they try to smuggle through here," he said. "The military 
can't control this territory on its own. If we left this checkpoint even for 30 
minutes bad people would come. The government doesn't pay us. We do this to 
protect our country."

He tugged the brim of his camouflage hat.

"But men need to feed their kids," he said. "That's why many are moving into 
the smuggling trade."

They traffic in rocket-propelled grenades, stolen cars, hashish and 
government-subsidized gasoline and flour. Krayem has seen it all.

He stepped toward the broken road as dusk fell across market tents, thicket and 
scrub. The wind cooled. A big truck, draped with boys and barrels and lumbering 
like a collapsing house on wheels, approached. His men checked their guns and 
prepared for night.

"The next checkpoint is 150 kilometers away," he said, nodding to the outskirts 
of Sabha and the encroaching desert. "We don't have enough patrols to cover all 
what's in between."

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