Israel, Ethiopia and the Somali question

In 1978, as the Ogaden War between Somalia and Ethiopia reached its apex, Israel’s defence minister Moshe Dayan made a startling public admission to reporters: “For years we’ve cooperated with Ethiopia, never with Somalia… they asked us for help, and we granted it.” His remark publicly acknowledged a long-standing strategic alliance rooted in mutual anxieties over the influence of Arab nationalism around the Red Sea and Muslim insurgencies in the Horn of Africa—particularly those of the Somali and Eritrean independence movements.

Despite the ideological rupture caused by Ethiopia’s 1974 revolution—following the country’s transition from Haile Selassie’s monarchy to Mengistu’s Marxist Derg—the alliance between Addis Ababa and Tel Aviv persisted. Throughout the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s, Israeli assistance enabled Ethiopia to suppress insurgencies on its imperial periphery and significantly shaped the development of its cold war-era security apparatus. For Israel, Ethiopia functioned as an indispensable bulwark, securing vital access to the Red Sea and Bab al-Mandab Strait against hostile liberation movements along the littoral. As Israeli historian Haggai Erlich observed in the foreword to his study on the relationship between Selassie’s regime and Tel Aviv: “Israel invested more in Ethiopia than she ever invested in any other country.”

Within a short period, some of Ethiopia’s most sensitive external and internal security matters had been entrusted to Israeli advisers.

The alliance effectively began in 1956 with the opening of Israel’s consulate in Addis Ababa, as the Red Sea corridor became increasingly vital for Israeli oil imports and trade with Asia. Seeking to safeguard access to the Indian Ocean from hostile littoral states, Israel viewed Ethiopian-controlled Eritrea—situated along the Red Sea—as the sole friendly exception in an otherwise totally hostile region. Diplomatic relations between Ethiopia and Israel were generally warm but often strained in the international arena following Israel’s establishment in 1948, largely due to Ethiopia’s sizeable Muslim population—many of whom harboured rebellious sentiments—and growing pressure from the broader Islamic world. Consequently, Addis Ababa delayed formal recognition of Israel until 1961, to the considerable frustration of Israeli officials.

Nevertheless, substantive security cooperation began in 1956, driven by growing Ethiopian anxiety over the rise of Gamal Abdel Nasser in Egypt and his support for Somali and Eritrean nationalist movements. The Suez Crisis that same year further impressed Haile Selassie’s regime with Israel’s military prowess, prompting deeper coordination between their respective intelligence and defence services. Within a short period, some of Ethiopia’s most sensitive external and internal security matters had been entrusted to Israeli advisers. In 1958, the first cohort of Imperial Army paratroopers—whom Selassie regarded as a pillar of his regime—underwent training in Israel, while Israeli military experts began arriving in Ethiopia to oversee the establishment of border police forces in the Ogaden and Eritrea.

As security and military cooperation expanded, a shared sense of strategic isolation emerged between the two states. According to reporter Murray Marder of the Washington Post, Israelis and non-Muslim Ethiopians could often be heard expressing a common refrain:  

“Ethiopia is like Israel, an island surrounded by an Arab sea.” 

Israeli prime minister David Ben-Gurion regarded Ethiopia as a key component of a broader regional alliance designed to counterbalance the growing Arab threat. This emerging strategic alignment was reflected in a September 1960 Israeli foreign ministry report summarising Moshe Dayan’s visit to Addis Ababa, during which Emperor Haile Selassie lamented that the dream of a “Greater Somalia” would not have gained traction without Nasser’s influence—and expressed hope that the newly independent Somali Republic might one day be absorbed into the Ethiopian Empire. In line with this outlook, Israeli policymakers firmly opposed the Somali and Eritrean nationalist movements that emerged within the Ethiopian Empire during the late 1950s and early 1960s, viewing both as proxies of the Nasser regime. These emerging movements were perceived as components of a broader Arab strategy aimed at encircling Ethiopia and threatening Israel’s critical maritime access.  

The depth of the Israeli–Ethiopian alliance, and the extent of Israeli influence over Ethiopia’s security services, was vividly demonstrated during the failed 1960 coup while Haile Selassie was abroad in Brazil. A Mossad radio operator alerted the emperor to the unfolding coup attempt, and Ethiopian paratroopers trained in Israel played a decisive role in regaining control of the capital, securing the airport ahead of Selassie’s return on Israeli advice. Ironically, even some of the coup plotters maintained ties to Israeli security advisers, accentuating the extent to which Israeli influence had permeated the imperial security apparatus. In Selassie’s eyes, Israel’s intervention in this episode was crucial in preserving his rule and preventing a potential realignment towards the Arab world. Thus, in the early 1960s, Ethiopia emerged as Israel’s sole reliable ally positioned strategically between the Mediterranean Sea and the Indian Ocean. Still, Selassie sought to keep the relationship discreet, publicly denying the extent of their security ties. An Israeli Defence Force report on their presence in Ethiopia observed: 

“Due to the large Muslim minority, around half of the population, our presence is almost conspiratorial. Our discreteness has generated great trust in us…”

Somalia’s posture towards Israel sharply contrasted with Ethiopia’s growing partnership. To Israeli officials, Somalia was not merely an Arab-aligned state along the Bab al-Mandab, but a staunch ideological opponent that made clear on numerous occasions it considered Israel to be one of its primary enemies. Whereas Ethiopia was sympathetic to Zionism and welcomed discreet engagement, Somalia instead adopted an outspokenly anti-Zionist stance and placed itself firmly within the broader Islamic and Arab political sphere. From the outset of its independence in July 1960, the Somali Republic adopted an explicitly hostile position, announcing that it would not establish any form of diplomatic or commercial ties with Israel. Shortly thereafter, a Somali delegation visiting Iraq publicly declared Israel to be Somalia’s second-greatest enemy, after Ethiopia.

As Mogadishu intensified its opposition to Israel, Addis Ababa continued to move in the opposite direction. Throughout the early 1960s, Ethiopia actively sought to deepen its military and intelligence partnership with Israel, requesting expanded support in defence planning, counterinsurgency, and espionage operations. Soon after, operatives from Mossad and Shabak established a permanent station in Addis Ababa, where they worked closely with Ethiopian intelligence services on covert operations aimed at Arab states. Reflecting the depth of Israeli influence in the country, the Mossad station chief in Addis reported to Tel Aviv that Israeli advisers were shaping Ethiopia’s security apparatus and even advising provincial authorities on broader governance. Meanwhile, military cooperation intensified: units of the Imperial Ethiopian Army were regularly dispatched to Israel for specialised training. At the graduation ceremony of an Ethiopian paratrooper battalion in Israel during late 1960, Israeli prime minister David Ben-Gurion personally addressed the troops, warning of Nasser’s efforts to “stoke Muslim fanaticism among your neighbours” and within the empire. “Both our peoples,” he said, “share the same goal—and all help we provide to you is also help for us.”

These expanding military and intelligence ties unfolded against a broader diplomatic backdrop, as Addis Ababa sought to establish itself both as a continental hub and as a regional counterweight to Somali ambitions. The founding of the Organisation of African Unity (OAU) in Addis Ababa in 1963 further elevated Ethiopia’s status as a diplomatic centre—and, by extension, as Israel’s principal bridge to Africa.

Israeli advisers began accompanying Ethiopian units on counterinsurgency missions, with Israeli officers actively involved in planning—and, according to Egyptian author Mahmoud Shaker, even participating directly in combat.

That same year, the first organised Somali liberation movement since the colonial era, Nasrallah, emerged in the Ogaden, seeking to end imperial rule and secure the region’s independence. The Imperial Army’s 3rd Division, tasked with containing the insurgency and deterring Somali support, struggled to suppress the resistance as fighting intensified throughout the summer and autumn of 1963. Israeli advisers began accompanying Ethiopian units on counterinsurgency missions, with Israeli officers actively involved in planning—and, according to Egyptian author Mahmoud Shaker, even participating directly in combat. Frustrated by its inability to defeat Nasrallah, the Ethiopian regime blamed the Somali Republic and launched cross-border airstrikes and ground offensives, triggering the first Ethiopian–Somali war in 1964. During the war, the Somali government accused Israel of direct participation in military operations. Despite Ethiopia’s considerable edge in manpower and equipment over the Somali Republic, the Imperial Army struggled on the battlefield, prompting Israel to dispatch additional training teams to improve Ethiopian combat capabilities.

During this period, following repeated requests from Addis Ababa, Israel began training an “Ogaden Emergency Force” and supplied hundreds of Uzi submachine guns to Ethiopian police units operating in the Ogaden, Bale, and Sidamo regions to combat Somali insurgents. American advisers encouraged the Ethiopian government to establish specialised commando units under the authority of regional governors, and recommended the Israelis as the most qualified partner to oversee the training of these forces. IDF Major General David Ben-Uziel subsequently assumed responsibility for leading the training programme, which included preparation for cross-border sabotage operations.

Meanwhile, the evolving Israeli–Ethiopian alliance found an important, though unofficial, patron in the United States, which viewed Tel Aviv’s activities as advancing its own cold war objectives in Africa. While reluctant to intervene directly in the Ethiopian–Somali conflict, Washington quietly welcomed Israel’s expanding role in Ethiopia as a means of projecting Western influence. The security partnership between Tel Aviv and Addis Ababa aligned closely with American strategic interests, allowing the United States to indirectly support Ethiopian counterinsurgency efforts while avoiding politically sensitive operations. As one American diplomatic memo observed, Israel’s ties with Ethiopia “helped break the Islamic cordon and lighten our task in assisting Israel to maintain her place under the sun.” Haile Selassie’s regime thus became a key node in a broader US–Israeli security network. So influential was this arrangement that American aid to Somalia was partially constrained by the overriding priority given to Israel’s security concerns. The Israelis, for their part, acted as lobbyists for Ethiopian interests in Washington.

During the conflict, the Somali Republic declared war on Israel and requested permission from Ethiopia to use its airspace to transport troops and arms to Arab states, while Somali students in Cairo were encouraged to volunteer for service in the Egyptian army (although the war ended before Somalia was ready to join)

The United States is often credited as the principal architect of Ethiopia’s military build-up during the 1960s but Israel’s influence was also considerable. Though the Americans had provided Addis Ababa with advanced fighter jets in the mid-60s, the Ethiopian Air Force was structured according to a plan devised by the IDF and delivered in 1966. As this Israeli–Ethiopian collaboration on airpower was underway, a clandestine airbase was constructed in the Ogaden under the supervision of Israeli Air Force commander Mordechai Hod, intended to serve as a refuelling station for IDF aircraft operating near the strategic Bab al-Mandab straits. In this instance, the base ultimately remained unused; but its very existence reflected the strategic weight Israel assigned to Ethiopia’s hold over the Ogaden.

Throughout the 1960s, Somali–Israeli tensions intensified alongside deepening Israeli–Ethiopian ties, reaching a new height during the 1967 war. During the conflict, the Somali Republic declared war on Israel and requested permission from Ethiopia to use its airspace to transport troops and arms to Arab states, while Somali students in Cairo were encouraged to volunteer for service in the Egyptian army (although the war ended before Somalia was ready to join). Over 1,000 young people volunteered in Somalia for service, and the Somali Women’s Association offered to dispatch a Red Crescent unit to the battlefield. Ethiopia, in contrast, reportedly facilitated Israel’s stunning opening blow against the Arabs by permitting some Israeli aircraft to use Ethiopian air bases to launch attacks on Egyptian positions from an unexpected direction.

The year after the war, Somali President Abdirashid Ali Shermarke emphatically articulated a national position that would endure even through Somalia’s transition from a Western-oriented democracy to a socialist military regime in 1969:

“We in Somalia have considered ourselves at war with Israel… We accept the principle of total struggle to liberate the homeland and the Islamic holy places.”

By the early 1970s, Israeli influence within Ethiopia’s security apparatus had reached such depths that Western observers in Addis Ababa suspected—or had become convinced—that Israeli advisers were effectively running the entire Ethiopian intelligence system. Yet for the Israeli operatives and advisers deeply embedded within Ethiopia’s military and intelligence services, it was becoming increasingly apparent that the imperial regime was in terminal decline, and that the armed forces were best positioned to assume power. Simultaneously, mounting pressure from Arab states, combined with growing internal unrest fuelled by student revolutionary movements, intensified calls for Ethiopia to sever its ties with Israel.

These underlying tensions soon began to strain the Ethiopian–Israeli partnership. Haile Selassie’s attempt to persuade the Soviet Union to curb its support for Ethiopia’s regional rivals faltered, largely because he refused to break ties with Israel. In a bid to counter growing isolation, Addis Ababa increasingly turned to Arab states, seeking assurances that they would respect the empire’s territorial integrity and refrain from supporting Somali and Eritrean insurgents. In July 1973, the Egyptian war minister visited Ethiopia, declaring that it was within Egypt’s power to restrain the Somalis and Arab states if the Eritreans were granted greater autonomy. Libya’s Muammar Gaddafi publicly condemned Ethiopia for allowing its territory to serve as a base for Israeli operations, and called for the Organisation of African Unity to relocate its headquarters from Addis Ababa, arguing that Zionist agents were spying on its affairs. Meanwhile, frustrations with Israel also surfaced more openly. During a tense exchange with Israeli ambassador Hanan Aynor in 1973, Ethiopian foreign minister Minasse Haile expressed concern over what imperial officials perceived as Israeli passivity in the face of mounting Somali threats:

“[The Somalis] are now capable of conquering the Ogaden, and the entire regime will collapse as a result of the humiliation… Why has Israel become a bystander?”

When the Yom Kippur War broke out in October 1973 and dozens of African countries severed ties, Ethiopia followed suit and broke diplomatic relations. However, the entrenched military cooperation persisted at a reduced scale. Meanwhile, Somalia once again found itself in total opposition to the Israelis, declaring its full support for the Arab war effort and adopting a resolution on 10 October proclaiming solidarity with the “just war against Israel.” A Somali government document stated in regard to the diplomatic rupture between Israel and Africa:

“...Israel's role in our continent has been revealed. The Somali government has always maintained, at all African conferences, that there was no difference between Israel and Rhodesia or South Africa: theirs is a colonialist and imperialist policy. From the outset, Somalia was convinced of the common goal of the Arab and African struggles, so that a victory on the one front also represents a victory for the other... the Palestinian cause cannot be separated from the African cause in the South of our continent... We have always been convinced that the Israeli threat in North Africa and the racist government in South Africa are but two facets of the same phenomenon, i.e. an imperialist attempt at escalation of hostilities in Africa; to recover a hold over the whole continent.”

The diplomatic rupture of 1973 formally ended Ethiopian–Israeli diplomatic relations, but the strategic security partnership persisted in practice, albeit at a reduced scale. The most notable of these reductions was the withdrawal of Israeli military advisers from Ethiopian field units. Unlike in 1960—when Israeli support had played a decisive role in preserving the imperial regime—no such assistance materialised during the Ethiopian Revolution. As Haile Selassie’s monarchy collapsed and the Marxist Derg seized power, Israel remained on the sidelines. However, the foundations of the alliance laid during the imperial era endured. Several leading figures in the new regime, including figures such as President Mengistu Haile Mariam and Colonel Moges—the future head of Ethiopia’s internal and external security services—had received Israeli training, ensuring a degree of continuity within Ethiopia’s military and intelligence establishments.

The Derg accused the Palestine Liberation Organization of training members of the Western Somali Liberation Front, which was spearheading the Ogaden insurgency. 

Despite the ideological shift to Marxism, the Arab–Israeli dimension of the Ethiopian–Somali conflict reemerged almost immediately. As Somali and Eritrean insurgencies intensified, the Derg quietly appealed to Israel for military assistance in 1975. Tel Aviv responded positively, supplying military training and arms captured during the 1973 war. Israel resumed its counterinsurgency support in the Ogaden. In turn, Israel was granted access to ports on the Eritrean coastline. The Derg accused the Palestine Liberation Organization of training members of the Western Somali Liberation Front, which was spearheading the Ogaden insurgency. Like his predecessor, Somali Republic President Shermarke, Siad Barre also expressed the national position in warlike terms, stating that Somalia was a “frontline country against enemy Israel.” In the mid-1970s, both the Israelis and Ethiopians began providing “limited support” to the first opposition groups that had emerged against Barre’s regime. Before the Derg was able to solicit the support of the Soviets, Israel tried to advocate on Mengistu’s behalf for Washington to support Israeli–Ethiopian cooperation, though President Carter was unconvinced and apparently confused by the importance the Israelis attached to Ethiopia.

When Somalia launched a full-scale invasion in 1977 to support the WSLF, Israel found itself in a diplomatically awkward position. Although Ethiopia had aligned itself with the Soviet bloc, Tel Aviv regarded a Somali victory—backed by Arab states—as a far greater threat to its strategic interests than the presence of Soviet or Cuban forces in the Horn. Israeli policy makers viewed the situation in clear terms: “deal with the Somalis (and Eritrean rebels) first and worry about the Soviets and Cubans later.” For Tel Aviv, preventing a Somali–Arab axis from controlling the Horn remained a higher strategic priority than ideological discomfort with Ethiopia’s Soviet alignment. Israeli prime minister Menachem Begin sent a message to US President Jimmy Carter, urging the United States to assist Ethiopia in repelling the Somali offensive. The Israelis intensified their ongoing military aid. The Ogaden War thus produced what has since been described as “a most bizarre alliance,” with Cuba, Libya, Israel, and the Soviet Union all supporting the Ethiopian war effort. The Somali government derisively referred to this alignment as the “Moscow–Tel Aviv–Havana–Addis axis,” accusing it of conspiring to suppress Somali national aspirations.

Israeli military personnel played a critical role in keeping Ethiopia’s U.S.-supplied fighter jets from the imperial era operational during the war and provided munitions—including napalm and cluster bombs—used against Somali forces. In addition to maintaining aircraft, Israeli pilots were alleged to have flown combat missions themselves. Somalia formally accused Israel of direct involvement by Israeli pilots, while Ethiopia countered by accusing Somalia of employing Arab pilots. Advisors specialising in military aviation and logistics were also reportedly dispatched. According to the Los Angeles Times, some Israeli advisors were even fighting alongside Ethiopian troops in the Ogaden.

Following Dayan’s 1978 public admission of Israeli support for Ethiopia—an admission Prime Minister Begin later described as “a human error”—Mengistu expelled Israeli personnel to maintain favourable relations with pro-Ethiopian yet vehemently anti-Israel Arab states such as Libya and South Yemen. Despite having cooperated closely months prior, Israel was labelled a “stooge of imperialism” by the Derg at an Afro/Arab Anti-Imperialist Solidarity Conference, held in Addis Ababa in late 1978.

Neither Addis Ababa nor Tel Aviv wished to see a complete rupture in relations, and security cooperation endured. During Israel’s 1982 invasion of Lebanon, documents captured in West Beirut concerning the Eritrean People’s Liberation Front were passed to the Ethiopian government. The following year, Israel reportedly supplied $20 million worth of weapons to Ethiopia, and by 1984, Israeli advisors had even resumed training Mengistu’s presidential guard.

Israeli influence also remained deeply entrenched within Ethiopia’s intelligence services, particularly through Colonel Moges, who had long-standing ties to Israeli operatives. Moges played a key role in advancing the Derg’s strategy of destabilising the Somali Democratic Republic from within. Building on early Israeli–Ethiopian cooperation identified in a 1979 CIA report, Ethiopian intelligence pursued a policy of fragmenting Somali opposition groups by promising secessionist-oriented leaders territorial concessions if they broke away from Somalia—particularly targeting the former British Somaliland. This strategy aligned closely with Israeli interests, which saw the disintegration of Somali nationalism as a means of neutralising a hostile, Arab-aligned front in the Horn.

By the mid-1980s, as Barre’s regime became increasingly desperate amid a deepening civil war, Somalia itself began to quietly renegotiate its principles and reconsider its long-standing hostility toward Israel—a stance that had defined Somali foreign policy since 1960.

By the late 1980s, growing military desperation and Mengistu's failure to secure Arab backing prompted Ethiopia to quietly re-establish formal diplomatic ties with Israel. In justifying the move, a senior Ethiopian official invoked the same rationale that had underpinned the alliance under Haile Selassie: Israel and Ethiopia shared a strategic imperative to keep the Red Sea out of Arab hands, or turning “into an Arab Sea” as Israeli ambassador Meir Joffe said. Despite the ideological transition from monarchy to Marxism, the core logic of the partnership endured—regional survival through mutual containment of pan-Arab influence along one of the world’s most critical maritime corridors. However, Israel’s willingness to intervene on Mengistu’s behalf was tempered by external pressure; the United States warned Tel Aviv against expending major effort to preserve the Derg regime.

A similar shift was unfolding in Somalia. By the mid-1980s, as Barre’s regime became increasingly desperate amid a deepening civil war, Somalia itself began to quietly renegotiate its principles and reconsider its long-standing hostility toward Israel—a stance that had defined Somali foreign policy since 1960. As civil war gripped their respective nations, Barre and Mengistu had come to the mistaken conclusion that the road to improving relations with Washington, and consequently saving their regimes, lay through Tel Aviv. In 1985, President Siad Barre’s son-in-law made a discreet two-week visit to Jerusalem to explore the possibility of military cooperation, particularly in the field of counterinsurgency. Despite this tentative opening, Somali overtures were met with deep suspicion in Tel Aviv, given Somalia’s long record of hostility toward Israel, the Barre regime’s history of rapid alliance shifts, and, above all, Somalia’s ongoing conflict with Israel’s reliable regional ally, Ethiopia. Yet both regimes, despite belated overtures to Israel, were by the late 1980s on trajectories of internal collapse.

In 1991, the collapse of the Barre and Mengistu regimes reshaped the Horn of Africa. While Ethiopia had reconstituted itself under a new government, Somalia continued to fragment into competing clan-based polities and warlordism. Yet Israeli strategic interests in the region endured. A 1998 Al-Jazeera report by journalist Assaad Taha revealed that leaders of the self-declared Republic of Somaliland had approached Israeli prime minister Yitzhak Rabin, seeking to form an alliance to “counter Islamists” in the region. While the overture ultimately yielded no concrete results, Israel’s strategic concerns over Somalia mirrored those of Ethiopia, intensifying over the following decade as Islamist movements—often even more hostile to Israel and Ethiopia than earlier nationalist currents—came to dominate the Somali political landscape.

In Ethiopia, Israel found a partner willing to suppress that threat, and in Somalia, it identified a target whose fragmentation it quietly encouraged.

Nearly a decade later, as the Islamic Courts Union swept across much of southern and central Somalia during 2006, echoes of earlier decades resurfaced. The Somali Islamists were accused of fighting alongside Hezbollah during the 2006 invasion of Lebanon. Israel’s ambassador to the United Nations later confirmed that his country “had been aware” of the presence of ICU fighters operating in Lebanon, despite the denials of Hezbollah and the Courts. Senior officials within the new Somali Islamist administration accused Israel of backing their enemies, alleging that Mossad was collaborating with CIA-supported warlords and working alongside Ethiopia to lay the groundwork for an invasion of Somalia. In Mogadishu, residents mockingly referred to one of the anti-ICU warlords’ radio stations as “Radio Sharon,” a reference to the former Israeli prime minister.

Across decades of revolution, realignment, and collapse, Israel’s fundamental calculus in the Horn of Africa remained unchanged. This enduring convergence in strategic interests between Tel Aviv and Addis Ababa – forged in secrecy, tested through war, and recalibrated across regimes – reveals the Horn of Africa as an active frontier in Israel’s broader periphery doctrine. Arab-aligned Somali nationalism was not viewed as a distant or isolated movement, but rather as a proxy of a wider Arab and Muslim threat to Israel’s strategic depth. In Ethiopia, Israel found a partner willing to suppress that threat, and in Somalia, it identified a target whose fragmentation it quietly encouraged.