Somalia: State Collapse, Terrorism and Piracy

Brian Hesse

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2013
• ISBN:
  9781317985914
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

The situation in Somalia today embodies some of the most pressing issues in international relations. How should the international community deal with the collapsed state that is Somalia? From the presence of al-Qaeda operatives to pirates, to what extent is Somalia a threat to global peace and commerce? Which aspects of Somalia's economic, social and political landscape can be considered successful, and how do these 'success stories' reflect some of the more problematic issues the country faces?

This book sheds light on all of these topics and more. The book is written to appeal to a wide audience, from specialists in international security, development and/or humanitarian issues, to students and casual readers. Its six contributing authors, with their focus on current events mixed with historical perspective, ensure readers get varying views of what is happening today in the Horn of Africa.

The book was published as a special issue of the Journal of Contemporary African Studies.

Introduction: The myth of ‘Somalia’

Brian J. Hesse

Northwest Missouri State University, USA

A myth can either be a false belief or an idealised conception. This introduction demonstrates why ‘Somalia’ is both.

‘Somalia’ in abstract

‘Somalia’, a number-seven-shaped country on the north-eastern horn of the African continent, has long been a contested concept, even amongst Somalis. For example, at independence in 1960 when British Somaliland and Italian Somaliland united to form The Republic of Somalia, some Somalis agitated for a much larger version of a country. Their country, a ‘Greater Somalia’, would have included Somali brethren in what is today Djibouti, eastern Ethiopia and northern Kenya. Indeed, it was in part with an eye to expand the contours of ‘Somalia’ that the Mogadishu-based dictator General Mohamed Siyaad Barre invaded the Ethiopian Ogaden in 1977/78. After suffering some 25,000 casualties in less than a year and losing the war, an array of opposition forces rose up, all intent on overthrowing the Barre regime. It ultimately fell after many bloody years, in January 1991. Thus began a definitive fragmentation of ‘Somalia’.

In the wake of the Barre regime’s collapse some three million Somalis (out of an estimated population of between 6.8 to eight million in ‘Somalia’) declared unilateral independence in May 1991; they continue to build their independent Republic of Somaliland in the northwest. In the northeast some 1.5 million Somalis declared their own autonomous state of Puntland in 1998; in the intervening years they have elected four presidents, the most recent having assumed office in January 2009. In the middle and south of Somalia various ‘autonomous states’ have been declared – Galmudug State in 2006, for example – albeit they have tended to look and function like much of the rest of the anarchic south, known for its shifting, often violent, patchwork of clan-based fiefdoms. And, of late, variations of yet another type of Somali nationalist have risen up: one wishing to forge a ‘historic Somaliland’ in the name of Islam. Presumably these Islamists’ geographic vision bears little resemblance to the distinctly shaped ‘Somalia’ of most maps.

The fact that the ‘Somalia’ of most maps endures owes much to the international community. From the United Nations down through its member states, including those in the African Union and the Arab League to the besieged Transitional Federal Government of Somalia in Mogadishu, the official line is that the territorial integrity of ‘Somalia’ is inviolable and indivisible. Granted, this tenet often tends to be self-serving: many states were products of less than organic processes themselves with borders drawn by, say, colonial powers; the governments of such states fear that a fractured ‘Somalia’ might encourage separatist movements within their own countries. Regardless, the prevailing view is this: that a majority of Somalis can be and will be united in a viable state one day. Such a view belies the fact that in the modern era Somalis have nearly always lived with a dizzying array of flags, but rarely united under one of their own.

An allegorical flag

The official, internationally recognised Somali flag consists of a five-pointed, white star on a field of light blue. Each of the star’s points represents one of five parts of the Horn of Africa where ethnic Somalis live. But over the Ogaden, it is Ethiopia’s flag which flies. In the Northern Frontier District, it is Kenya’s. In former British Somaliland, the flag of The Republic of Somaliland now predominates. In Djibouti, it is that sovereign country’s standard. And in a fifth part of the Horn, the part that used to be Italian Somaliland (that is, the north-eastern parts of Somalia to southern Somalia), even here the Somali national ensign is rarely seen, replaced in some instances by the banner of Islam.

As for the field of light blue on the Somali national flag, it is a similar shade to the blue on the United Nations’ flag. When the Somali national flag was created in 1954 the blue might have signified hope for an end to the UN’s trusteeship era, then being carried out by the United Kingdom and Italy. Later, the field of blue might have come to signify the UN’s unwillingness to stop Ethiopian military incursions into, and outright occupations of, Somalia (the latest Ethiopian occupation lasted from 2006 to January 2009, and placed between 8000 and 15,000 forces on Somali soil). Or the field of blue might signify the various UN-blessed military interventions in Somalia since 1992: from America’s ‘Operation Restore Hope’, which reached a peak of 30,000 US and other troops; through UNOSOM II of ‘Blackhawk Down’ fame, with a multi-national force of 28,000 personnel and 3000 civilians; to the African Union’s deployment from January 2009 of up to 8000 peacekeepers, of which just over 5000 were on the ground as of February 2010.

Simultaneously, countless non-governmental organisations (NGOs) have shown their colours in Somalia, from the ACF (Action Contre la Faim) to the Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies. Today there are no less than 50 NGOs in the field (United Nations Relief Web 2010; Somalia NGO Consortium 2009), their banners signifying activity and projects the Transitional Federal Government of Somalia cannot do alone, or is incapable of doing at all.

Finally, there are the flags associated with Somali refugees and the Somali diaspora. In Africa large Somali populations are found in Ethiopia, Kenya and Djibouti. In the Middle East significant Somali communities are found in Yemen and the United Arab Emirates, and smaller ones in Saudi Arabia, other Gulf States and Egypt. In Europe, the United Kingdom hosts the largest number of Somalis, while the Netherlands, Norway, Denmark, Sweden and Finland, too, have sizable communities. And in North America one can find substantial Somali communities in the United States and Canada, especially around Minneapolis and Toronto. In total more than one million Somalis live outside Somalia, or stated another way, about 14% of all Somalis live abroad (UNDP 2009). From abroad the Somali diaspora is estimated to send home between US$750 million and US$1 billion annually (Lewis 2008, 134; Maimbo 2006, 20). The remittances are meant not to support ‘Somalia’ per se, but family- and clan-members. And it is families and clans to which Somalis typically show their highest degree of loyalty.

A clan-driven narrative

In Somali genealogy most Somalis are born into one of six ‘big tent’ clans. Four of these clans – the Darod, Dir, Hawiye and Isaaq, collectively known as ‘Samaale’ clans¹ – share the closest linguistic and cultural ties. These historically nomadic clans together constitute somewhere around 75% of all ethnic Somalis. Two more clans – the Digil and Rahanweyn of southern Somalia, sometimes called Digil-Mirifle – together comprise about 20% of all ethnic Somalis. They speak af-maymay, distinct from the af-maxaa of Samaale clans, and have historically practised a more sedentary lifestyle of farming and/or pastoralism. Additionally, and in contrast to the borderline xenophobia of many Samaale clans, Digil and Rahanweyn clans have had a custom of assimilating clansmen, from non-ethnic Somalis to former slaves and their descendants. Indeed, in the Rahanweyn’s language their clan’s name means ‘large crowd’. A divide between Samaale clans and the Rahanweyn and Digil clans is pointedly evident when Samaale clan members use the derogatory word sab (translation: ‘ignoble’) when referring to some of their Rahanweyn and Digil Somali brethren.

Somalis further classify themselves into subclans, or even sub-subclans and beyond. For example, in the Isaaq clan, which falls under the umbrella ‘Samaale’ clan structure, there are no less than three (some scholars say as many as eight) subclans: the Habar Awal, Habar Jaalo, and the Harhajis. The Habar Awal are then divided into at least two sub-subclans: the Sa’ad Muse and the Lise Muse … and so on. Classification can even extend right down to the household level: if a man has more than one wife, for example, some in the household might stress the clans, subclans or sub-subclans associated with one maternal line over another. What is more, not all Somalis agree to which lineage lines other Somalis belong. Somali genealogy presents individuals with a seemingly infinite number of ways to affiliate with, or disassociate from, fellow Somalis – which may be the point.

Whether one is looking at those in a day-to-day nomadic existence in a semi-desert, day-to-day existence in an urban area of a failed state, or day-to-day existence as newly-arrived emigres in a foreign land, Somalis need to have durable yet malleable ways to negotiate limited opportunities and limited resources. The Somali lineage system accomplishes this.

Whereas outsiders usually see an impractically complex, shifting system of genealogy, many Somalis see a practically complex, shifting one. Has a water hole or grazing area become too small for the number of clansmen using it? A subclan or sub-subclan can break away and assert control over it. Has another clan come to monopolise an area of commerce, to the detriment of all others? A number of subclans can pool their resources to start their own rival enterprise. Have members of a particular household established themselves in London or Minneapolis? A new arrival of the same lineage can tap these distant relatives for advice and support.

What cannot be debated is the consequence and prominence of such fraternal schisms, evident in the traditional Somali greetings: ‘Is it peace?’ and ‘What is your lineage?’

An old story today told

An argument could be made that today’s clan dynamics amongst Somalis were largely established in pre-colonial times, when nomadic realities worked against state formation. For example, how does a government form, represent or tax constituencies which are always moving, sometimes across international borders? Says one academic: ‘The very idea of the state is totally alien to Somali culture and was unknown before the colonial period. A settled population is needed before any form of state can be established … Nomad society is essentially anarchic’ (Prunier 1997). Further, the assertion could be made that most Somalis’ nomadic heritage in a near-desert environment produced a sort of enduring ‘rugged individualism’ in the extreme. As Professor I.M. Lewis notes: ‘In the harsh struggle for survival which is a nomad’s lot, suspicion is the natural attitude towards those with whom one competes for access to scarce pasture and water. This defence mechanism is extended to all contexts of social interaction and hence becomes a national characteristic’ (Carlson 2009). This has been to the detriment of widely-held notions of modern governance, which ultimately require a citizen to defer to a higher sovereign authority beyond one’s clan, subclan, and/or sub-subclan.²

Of course it could be maintained that it was the colonial- and trusteeship-eras which most exacerbated Somali clannism, and thereby most hindered the formation of a unified Somali state. Most obviously colonial powers sliced up the Somali nation with colonial boundaries. Yet perhaps of equal or greater consequence within British Somaliland and Italian Somaliland, authorities were in the practice of appointing clan chiefs. This caused tensions inside clans because the Somali shir custom obligates all adult males in a clan to deliberate and decide political and economic affairs by council, rather than by individual chiefly fiat (hence the nineteenth-century British explorer Richard Burton’s claims, oft-quoted, that the Somalis are ‘a fierce and turbulent race of republicans’, based on his observations of shir). Relations across clan lines were likewise aggravated due to colonial favouritism, real or perceived, as some clans’ chiefs were elevated over others.

Finally, it could be said that the clan-induced groundwork for a failed Somali state occurred in the wake of independence in 1960. In what was to be a unified Somalia, northern clansmen from former British Somaliland (the Isaaq mostly, but also some Dir) came to fill most technical posts. Clansmen from former Italian Somaliland (mostly the Darod and Hawiye, at the exclusion of the Rahanweyn and Digil) came to fill many political ones. Why this happened is sometimes attributed to the educational preparedness the British and Italians meted out before independence. The British, thinking mass education was too uncertain in nomadic cultures, set up only a few schools in their part of Somalia, but schools which offered a high standard of education. A select few Somalis were then sent to British universities. By contrast, the Italians introduced mass education, but at a low standard and with a heavy hand (Somalis were expected to adopt the laws, customs and economic preferences of the Italian state). At independence, then, certain Somalis were better positioned to seize political and economic spoils, but almost always in the company of clansmen. Consequently, centres of governmental power and authority came to be associated not with the state so much as with clans. Had the filling of governmental positions not been so segregated and the allocation of governmental power more genuinely broad, unified Somali statehood might have been advanced. As it was, the immediate post-independence era was marked less by national unity and more by heightened clan rivalry. This rivalry came to a head in October 1969 when Somalia’s president, Abdirashid Ali Shermaake (a Darod), was assassinated. The military ultimately took control and government rule evolved into a dictatorship with Major-General Mohammed Siyaad Barre (a Darod) as president.

Initially Barre’s rule was marked with a totalitarian effort to stamp out clannism through an ideological mix of Lenin, Marx, the Koran, Mao and Mussolini, obliquely known as ‘scientific socialism’. As part of scientific socialism all political parties were banned except Barre’s Somali Revolutionary Socialist Party, the premise being that parties were merely products and tools of clans. People were forcibly settled on communes where clans were deliberately mixed. It became illegal for Somalis to inquire about or refer to a person’s lineage, not even at weddings, burials or religious rites. All Somalis were to call each other jaalle, or ‘comrade’. Traditional institutions were dismantled, replaced by government-appointed officials.

As noted earlier, Barre’s rule was eventually challenged after his failed Ogaden campaign. When faced with the prospect of losing power, though, he quickly abandoned efforts to stamp out clannism and instead resurrected and ratcheted up clan differences. But he also continued to outlaw and undermine traditional clan institutions, such as shir councils. His goal was to divide, weaken and conquer his opponents while diverting attention away from his regime’s failures. Simultaneously he turned inward, to his own clan base – to the point his government came to be known amongst Somalis as MOD: Mareehaan, Ogadeni and Dulbahante, three sub-subclans of the Darod clan to which he, his mother, and son-in-law belonged. These actions were to have lasting consequences.

Historically Somalis have organised themselves into social insurance cooperatives called diya-groups (diya meaning ‘blood wealth’). Diya-groups can consist of clans, subclans and/or sub-subclans, but members are always contractually bound to pay or receive damages collectively. Within this framework there is no concept of individuality. So, in the case of murder, a killer is expected to have his diya-group deliver just compensation to the victim’s diya-group. Should compensation not be received, then the victim’s kin are expected to exact blood revenge not only on the perpetrator, but also on any member of the perpetrator’s lineage – which often touches off even more claims and counter-claims for diya payments or revenge. As noted above, the Barre regime in its latter years had stressed clan divides yet continued to outlaw diya-groups. As a result, when the regime fell in 1991 and Somali clans scrambled to seize what was left of the Somali state, many were killed in the chaos. Barre-inspired rhetoric had primed clansmen to expect such killing from ‘others’. Yet the regime had also precluded the formation or adequate functioning of diya-groups which could have adjudicated conflicts and maybe mitigated violence. Consequently, cross-clan and internecine clan bloodshed took place on a massive scale.

Undoubtedly clan dynamics continue to drive conflict amongst Somalis, albeit these dynamics are not always obvious to the casual observer. For example, al-Shabaab, Hizbul Islam, Ahlu Sunna wal Jama’a and the Transition...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Notes on Contributors
• 1. Introduction: The myth of ‘Somalia’
• 2. The UN-led Djibouti peace process for Somalia 2008-2009: Results and problems
• 3. Somalia and global terrorism: A growing connection?
• 4. The fourth point: An examination of the influence of Kenyan Somalis in Somalia
• 5. An open letter to Uncle Sam: America, pray leave Somalia to its own devices
• 6. Putting Somali piracy in context
• 7. Where Somalia works
• Index