Tripoli is buzzing, but not with the sound of gunfire or the chants of yet another militia leader. Instead, a quiet revolution is taking shape in packed halls and youth conferences. On December 4th, over 1,000 young Libyans gathered under the banner of the National Forum for Unity and Peace (NFUP). This wasn’t a rally for a warlord or a protest against the latest interim government. It was a call for a King.
The prevailing narrative in the West often dismisses monarchy as a relic of the past, incompatible with modern democracy.
For a generation raised in the chaos of post-Gaddafi Libya, the idea of a constitutional monarchy might seem like an anachronism—a nostalgic fever dream of their grandparents. But as the dust settles on a decade of failed transitions, broken promises, and institutional paralysis, a provocative question is emerging from the rubble: Is a constitutional monarchy the radical solution Libya has been waiting for?
The prevailing narrative in the West often dismisses monarchy as a relic of the past, incompatible with modern democracy. Yet, in Libya, the 1951 Independence Constitution—and the Senussi monarchy it enshrines—are increasingly viewed not as a step backward, but as the only legitimate path forward. The logic is compelling in its simplicity: when every attempt to build a republic from scratch has collapsed into factionalism and civil war, perhaps the answer lies in restoring the only framework that ever successfully united the country.
The recent youth conference in Tripoli, the third major mobilization in less than a month, highlights a shifting tide. Young Libyans, who make up the majority of the population, are tired of inheriting instability. They have seen the “democratic” experiments of the last decade devolve into a kleptocracy where rival elites divvy up the country’s wealth while infrastructure crumbles. In this vacuum of legitimacy, Crown Prince Mohammed El Senussi offers something no other political figure can: a connection to a foundational legal order that predates the current chaos.
Critics will argue that restoring a monarchy is a fantasy, a distraction from the hard work of state-building. They will point to the complexities of modern Libya—the armed groups, the tribal divisions, the foreign interference—and ask how a King can possibly navigate such a minefield. But this skepticism misses the point. The monarchy isn’t being proposed as a magic wand, but as a constitutional umbrella.
The 1969 coup that brought Gaddafi to power was an illegal act. Therefore, the 1951 Constitution was never validly annulled.
The brilliance of the 1951 Constitution lies in its ability to balance competing interests. It provides a mechanism for legitimate governance that doesn’t require a “winner-takes-all” outcome, a dynamic that has doomed every election since 2011. In a constitutional monarchy, the King serves as the guardian of the constitution, a unifying symbol who can mediate disputes and ensure that the rules of the game are respected. For a fragmented society like Libya, this kind of neutral arbiter is not a luxury; it is a necessity.
Moreover, the argument for restoration is rooted in legality. The 1969 coup that brought Gaddafi to power was an illegal act. Therefore, the 1951 Constitution was never validly annulled. By returning to this pre-existing legal framework, Libya can bypass the endless squabbling over drafting a new constitution—a process that has been weaponized by spoilers on all sides. As participants at the conference noted, the 1951 text contains amendment mechanisms, allowing Libyans to update it for the 21st century once the state is re-established.
The support for Crown Prince El Senussi is not merely about restoring a dynasty; it is about restoring the state. It is a rejection of the “might makes right” mentality that has ruled Libya for too long. It is a recognition that true democracy requires a stable container, a set of rules that everyone agrees on before the game begins. As Ayman Shilli, a member of the organizing committee, stated, “The youth are not asking for a seat at the table anymore. We are claiming our rightful role as the engine of Libya’s renewal.”
In the specific context of Libya, where the republican model has failed spectacularly, monarchy may be the most pragmatic option left.
Of course, the road ahead is fraught with challenges. Entrenched interests—the militias, the corrupt politicians, the foreign powers profiting from Libya’s instability—will not give up their power easily. But the growing momentum among Libya’s youth suggests that the status quo is becoming untenable. They are the ones who will inherit this country, and they are increasingly vocal about the future they want: one based on the rule of law, not the rule of the gun.
So, is a constitutional monarchy a real solution? In a world where democracy is often synonymous with republicanism, it’s a counterintuitive idea. But in the specific context of Libya, where the republican model has failed spectacularly, it may be the most pragmatic option left. It offers a bridge between the past and the future, a way to reclaim a stolen legitimacy and build a nation that actually works for its people.
