In the makeshift military operations room in Libya’s Nefusa Mountains, amid crackling radios and milling rebel officers, the “wise men” held council on Libya’s future. Sipping sweet tea and donning traditional long robes, elders from rival tribes met for uncomfortable negotiations.

The villages of the Mashaashia tribe stood like ghost towns; the population had fled, their homes and shops had been looted, ransacked and burned. The tribe had supported Colonel Moammar Gadhafi in his attack on neighboring rebellious towns. Now, as the dictator lost his grasp on power, they were paying a heavy price for their loyalty. “We are here to negotiate reconciliation with the Nefusa Mountains, and to plan for a future together,” said the leader of the tribe.

Complicated by historical rivalries, the wounds and rancor ran too deep. Within minutes, negotiations turned to enraged mudslinging. Cups crashed to the floor as the tribal leaders stood up, their fists clenched.

Like Egypt to the east and Tunisia to the west, Libya is confronting a diversity that Gadhafi denied so strenuously that he tried to convince the minority Berbers that they were, in fact, Arabs.

The work of the country’s new government, formed in November of last year, has been virtually paralyzed by internecine regional and factional feuds. Armed bands of tribesmen are among hundreds of militias that are proving to be the scourge of the revolution’s aftermath.

Hundreds of fighting brigades from towns elsewhere in the west that swept into Tripoli in August of last year for the culminating battle to oust their dictator still show little inclination to leave.

Seizing opulent mansions from the Gadhafi family and their wealthy supporters, they stockpile hand grenades and ammunition beside the Jacuzzi and patrol the streets with a swagger of entitlement.

Entourages of pickup trucks with mounted anti-aircraft guns park outside police stations, overpowering civil security forces should they dare to lock up a member of the militia. Volleys of gunfire still ring through the capital at night with unnerving regularity as rival militias squabble over scraps of quarry.

Throughout the sweeping revolution, citizens across the country shouted for “freedom” and “democracy,” and modern democracy remains the aspiration of its new leadership. Men in the new government offices pour over drafts of a Constitution, as others work to prepare elections for June.

But the model is not a natural fit. While political institutions have long been lacking, the country’s tribal fabric is a vibrant and powerful social structure. One’s tribe is viewed as a source of personal protection, security and identity. Aware of the need to maintain tribal loyalty, Gadhafi bestowed special privileges on members of his own Gadhadfa tribe, and ensured that the biggest tribes shared positions in the security services and military.

Libyans are often imbued with what seems to be a stronger sense of patriotism for their town than for the country. Libyans jokingly refer to the western Libyan city of Misrata as a “republic” after locals established checkpoints around the perimeters of the town, and required foreigners to get special permits to enter.

Tribal loyalties expressed in battle may soon be echoed at the ballot box. Under the new election law, three seats out of five in the National Assembly are reserved for those who run without party ties as independents. Parties, struggling to formulate policies and make themselves known to voters after four decades of one-man rule, can contest only 40 percent of the seats. Those trying to field political parties at an election in June fear that individuals will be able to call on traditional sympathies within their tribe to get elected.

Elsewhere, tribal loyalties may yet play a key role in the unfolding battle for power in Syria. Border regions in the country are largely tribal areas. As the country spirals into violence and the demand for weapons grows, winning the loyalty of those living close to the smuggling routes is crucial for both sides. Weapons and Sunni Muslim insurgents are already seeping through the porous border between Iraq and Syria, joining their “brothers” in the fight against the ruling minority Alawite regime.

As it grapples for control, the Assad regime has sought ever more brutal means of exercising power over the country’s tribes.

Sheikh Nawaf al-Bashir, head of the prominent Baqara tribe, recently revealed that Syrian authorities had forced him to conduct an interview with a Syrian state television channel “with a gun to his head” as he professed his tribe’s support for the government. The Baqara tribe is one of the largest tribes in Syria, encompassing an estimated 1.2 million Syrian nationals.

As the crisis in Syria deepens, there are signs of dangerous sectarian enmity. Amid the ongoing violence, the fears, insecurities and ideals of both the Sunni and the ruling minority Alawite population are driving deep and dangerous social divisions that threaten to ignite a dangerous and bloody civil war.

In many ways the revolutions of the “Arab spring” have been uprisings of unprecedented unity. Autocratic dictatorships have yielded to millions calling with one voice for the right of self-determination, and for a new national democratic leadership for their country.

Time will tell the result. Libyan author Hisham Matar once wrote, “nationalism is as thin as a thread, perhaps that’s why many feel that it needs to be anxiously guarded.”

Ruth Sherlock has covered the Libyan and now the Syrian revolutions for the Telegraph and other publications. This commentary first appeared at bitterlemons-international.org, an online newsletter.