Barre complex: Why no one person can save Somalia

The presidential election is about five months away. In other words, we are entering that familiar season when every political figure, old and new, presents himself as Somalia's long-awaited savior. The public, though they do not vote, is often divided over who the true savior is. One thing, however, is sure: whoever is elected turns out not to be the savior.

Why do we never find the true savior? It is comforting to think that someone will come to the rescue, especially for people who have been in a state of disorder for over thirty years. However, there is no such thing as a savior in politics. It takes institutions — organized individuals with established rules and shared goals — to save a nation. Anything less is just wishful thinking.

But it is not just ordinary people who fall prey to such thinking. Many in the business of politics believe that the solution to Somalia's problems lies in a single strong ruler. In fact, some candidates strive to fit into that imagined savior role. They, for example, withdraw from public engagement until the election season starts. They act as though politics is a spiritual affair involving isolation, where they prepare to be the savior, and a revelation, where they reveal themselves to the public. On the contrary, politics is, by nature, an art of mass relations. In other words, self-isolation could be a sign that someone lacks the qualities needed to practice politics.

You might argue that candidates do not need to engage with the public, since it is parliament members, not citizens, who vote. Therefore, it is a practical strategy for candidates to save their money and energy for the election night. I would agree if the only goal were to win the seat. However, if the plan is to rebuild a broken nation, citizens should be the top priority. That means the political elites should foster a civic culture by forming political parties, training future leaders, and teaching young generations how to fight for their rights without resorting to violence. Civic culture — that is, citizens who are aware of their constitutional rights and duties — is the bedrock, not only a byproduct, of nation-building.

The notion of political elites engaging with the public was not always foreign to our nation. In fact, it was the tradition before the Barre regime. The first generation of political elites, the postcolonial elites, rightly understood their role as placing the people at the center of the political process. That meant building democratic institutions elected by and accountable to the people.

Building such institutions in a newly independent nation is understandably challenging. However, they managed the process as smoothly as possible. They held a popular referendum on the Constitution within one year of independence, local elections within two years, and national elections within three years. Their success was due to their belief that politics should be conducted through institutions, elected by the people, rather than by personalities who come to power through other means. In that sense, they were, as Abdi Ismail Samatar dubs them in the title of his book, Africa’s First Democrats.

Their commitment to democratic politics was embedded in their political culture long before they gained power. Both the Somali Youth League in the South and the Somali National League in the North, which served as the political incubators of postcolonial elites, exercised a politics of institutions that prioritized the people.

These movements recognized early on that liberation meant transforming people’s political culture from one that was submissive to colonialism into one that was participatory and cognizant of self-determination. Therefore, alongside their struggle against colonialists was a jihad against a passive and compliant political culture.

Barre’s personalist regime, which lasted for twenty-one years, changed the Somali political culture. Through music, poetry, and imprisonment, the regime fostered a political culture fixated on individual personalities

That tradition, the politics of institutions, ended with Barre’s overthrow of the nascent democracy in 1969. Of course, democratic institutions weren’t at their best at that time. They were overshadowed by widespread corruption and partisan fighting. As a result, many people became disillusioned with the government's performance. Siad Barre, the commander of the national army at the time, saw himself as the savior. Whether out of fear or genuine support, many people believed in him.

Barre’s personalist regime, which lasted for twenty-one years, changed the Somali political culture. Through music, poetry, and imprisonment, the regime fostered a political culture fixated on individual personalities; it created citizens who saw themselves more as objects than as active participants in history; it made a nation that constantly seeks a savior.

More significantly, the regime established political elites — the revolutionary elites — who see politics as centered around a single person. Whereas the postcolonial elites saw politics as representing people’s aspirations, the revolutionary elites often regard the people as irrelevant. The former ran a bottom-up politics; the latter, a top-down one.

Revolutionary elites often view politics from a top-down perspective because they developed under a regime that treated politics as an unequal relationship between the ruler and the ruled. As a result, they reenact politics as they learned during their formative period.

Of course, any politics centered on personalities is doomed to fail, just like Barre’s. After more than twenty years in power, he left behind a divided nation and a stateless country. After over thirty years of being stuck in his legacy, it is time we learn the simple lesson: the politics of personalities, though appealing, is an illusion; the politics of institutions, though messy, is the solution.

To verify that statement, look around at our neighbors. Compare the countries that have run on the politics of personalities over the past three decades with those that have run on the politics of institutions. Assess the quality of life in each, and then decide which one you would prefer to live in.

Surely, Kenya ranks high in these cases despite all the corruption and political divisions it is known for. It has succeeded in building a nation-state made up of diverse ethnic groups. It has also consolidated democracy as the only game in town. Indeed, many of us have already made this comparison and come to a decision. For many of us, Kenya is a second home.

I wish the distinction between the politics of personalities and institutions was clearer, just as the choice between Eritrea and Kenya or between a cancer and a cold is. Unfortunately, that is not the case. Even though Barre is long gone, his legacy — the savior complex — is still with us.

The politics of institutions is unpopular with many because it has a common cold. That is, it is full of constant disagreements and deadlocks since competing actors are involved. As people see these flaws, they view it as ineffective and prefer the politics of personalities instead.

However, these people forget that the politics of personalities has an even worse disease: cancer. Because the politics of personalities is good at hiding or distorting reality, people do not realize how serious the problem is until nations fall apart. That was our experience in 1991 when we found ourselves in an all-out civil war.

I wish the distinction between the politics of personalities and institutions was clearer, just as the choice between Eritrea and Kenya or between a cancer and a cold is. Unfortunately, that is not the case. Even though Barre is long gone, his legacy — the savior complex — is still with us. In fact, it seems to be the common thread among national populists, political Islamists, and ordinary people. Nearly everyone sees themselves as a potential savior. However, this mindset is what led us here, and we should never let its politics guide us again.

Fortunately, others have left us a better legacy to follow: the politics of institutions and civic deliberation. It is politics that ensures people are equal under the ceiling of citizenship. This was how the first democrats on the continent, our ancestors, defeated the colonialists and united the nation. And although it may seem chaotic, it is the path forward to saving our country.