Sunday 20 April 2025
On 17th June 2021, Hargeisa, the capital of Somaliland, marked a historic moment that could signal a shift in the country’s political landscape. Abdikarim Ahmed Mooge was elected mayor, not because of clan affiliation but due to his activism against tribalism—a persistent issue that has complicated Somaliland’s politics for decades.
Following his election in a message to the public Mooge said: “I'm committed to fulfil your dreams and expectations, I will represent everyone whose clan family has no representative”, adding that he would “uphold equality, coexistence, and belonging to Hargeisa.” He wanted to pioneer a new inclusive identity for the city: reer Hargeysanimada, the act of being a Hargeisan.
Mooge’s victory was more than a personal achievement; it represented a collective hope, especially for Somaliland’s youth. Winning with an unprecedented 27,000 votes, he set a new standard for democracy in Somaliland, hinting at a move towards a more inclusive political climate and a break from the tribal divides that have long shaped its political identity.
The new mayor pitched high with his promises. The city would be beautified with greenery, its rubbish, clutter, and debris would be cleared up, schools would have greater access to water and electricity, and Somaliland’s favourite sport would have a new home in the city with a new stadium.
Hargeisa would become a city befitting its status as Somaliland’s capital.
Mooge’s journey to prominence was no accident. For years, he had been an outspoken critic of tribalism, advocating publicly for a unified Hargeisa, free from clan politics. His family background also played a role; his father and uncle, respected musicians and educators, left a cultural legacy that resonated across Somaliland. This connection helped him appeal to voters, who saw in him the values of inclusivity and service they desired in their leaders. To young Somalilanders, Mooge represented a new era and a vision of a future where unity and progress could replace the divisive influence of clan allegiances.
However, his path to the mayoral office was not without obstacles. As a candidate from the opposition Waddani party, he faced a powerful rival in Abdirahman Solteco, the former mayor backed by the ruling Kulmiye party. Despite Solteco’s experience and party support, Mooge’s message of unity and anti-tribalism resonated deeply, reaching beyond traditional political boundaries. His election sent a strong signal that Hargeisa was ready for leadership focused on the collective interests of its residents rather than clan alliances.
In Somaliland, political parties have grown in prominence since the introduction of multi-party politics in 2002, but they remain closely tied to clan affiliations. Each party often aligns with a specific clan leader, creating voting blocs based on lineage rather than policy. In this context, the 2024 presidential race is seen by many as a symbolic rematch of the 2017 election between Kulmiye and Waddani—two parties that reflect not just political ideals but also entrenched clan identities and rivalries.
This backdrop made Mooge’s candidacy particularly distinctive: although he ran under Waddani’s banner, his anti-tribalism activism attracted support from diverse communities across Hargeisa. By gaining backing from various groups, he defied the typical clan-based political structure. For Mooge, the campaign was about more than winning votes; it was about bridging divides, creating unity, and challenging the clan-centred foundations on which Somaliland’s political parties are built.
However, the enthusiasm that drove Mooge into office has been tempered by a wave of scepticism. As his role within Waddani has become more visible, some supporters question his commitment to his anti-tribalism message. Previously, Mooge presented himself as a leader for all of Hargeisa, prioritising the city’s needs above party or clan ties. This resonated with those disillusioned by clan-based politics. However, his alignment with Waddani has left some supporters conflicted, raising doubts about whether he can genuinely remain above clan loyalties.
Kenyan philosopher John Mbiti observed, “We are because we belong,” highlighting how African identities are deeply tied to community and kinship. For a politician like Mooge, staying above clan dynamics is challenging in a society where such ties are integral to political organisation. Mbiti’s insight underscores the difficulty of pursuing individual ideals in a culture that values collective identity. Mooge’s alignment with Waddani could be viewed as a necessary step in a landscape where political survival often depends on clan loyalty.
Similarly, Ghanaian philosopher Kwasi Wiredu warned against the misuse of communal values: “Politics in our societies often turns culture into a tool for manipulation, rather than liberation.” Wiredu’s critique resonates in Somaliland, where clan loyalty can be exploited to secure votes or maintain power. Mooge faces the challenge of avoiding the very clan-based tactics he once opposed, lest he perpetuate the same cycles he sought to break.
The very statements that earned Mooge public trust—such as his remark, “I grew up from clan”—acknowledged the reality of clan influences while advocating for unity. This approach felt both realistic and revolutionary in a society deeply rooted in clan ties. However, by actively promoting Waddani, he risks contradicting his own message, casting doubt on his ability to remain impartial and uphold the values he once championed.
For his supporters, this shift is troubling. Those who once viewed him as a symbol of political neutrality now worry that his loyalty to Waddani may entangle him in clan-based alliances, potentially undermining the unity he set out to build. They wonder if he will prioritise Hargeisa’s vision or become absorbed by the tribal loyalties he once criticised. This dilemma captures Somaliland’s larger struggle: can a politician remain committed to unity in a system where political survival often relies on clan support?
Mooge’s tenure is a litmus test for Somaliland’s political future. His journey reflects the nation’s own struggle to reconcile tradition with change, to seek unity amid diversity. His choices will shape not only his legacy but also set a precedent for whether Somaliland can move beyond clan-based politics. Will he remain the symbol of change Hargeisa’s residents hoped for, or will he fall into familiar patterns? His alignment with Waddani raises difficult questions about the feasibility of anti-tribalism in a system still influenced by clan loyalties.
As Nigerian writer Chinua Achebe once observed: “An inability to see beyond our differences is what keeps us weak.” Achebe’s words remind us that true leadership rises above divisions and seeks shared interests over factionalism. Mooge’s actions will ultimately determine whether he stands as a leader who challenges Somaliland’s status quo or as one who surrenders to it.
For now, the people of Hargeisa wait—hopeful yet cautious—to see if the dream of a united, inclusive city will flourish or fade as an illusion.