Wednesday 9 October 2024
As President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud governs from the heavily fortified Villa Somalia in Mogadishu, a significant drama is unfolding far beyond the capital, in the regions of Hiiraan, Gedo, and Southwest Somalia. These strategically important areas have become key battlegrounds for influence, with Ethiopia maneuvering like a seasoned player in a high-stakes geopolitical chess game.
Ethiopia’s years-long presence in these regions has divided the loyalties of local actors as Addis Ababa finds itself in a heated stand-off with Mogadishu.
“Ethiopia’s long-term investment in Somalia is now bearing fruit,” Mohamed Bare, an analyst and former Puntland presidential candidate, told Geeska. “They’ve played the long game, and now they’re reaping the benefits, while Somalia struggles to keep pace. Ethiopia brought us the clan federalism system that only served its interests, which has allowed them to gradually take control over Somalia’s political landscape. When Ethiopia’s Chief of General Staff, field marshal general Birhanu Jula, publicly stated that 60% of Somali territory is under their control, it tells you everything you need to know about the extent of their ambitions.
Somalia, often characterised as a nation that exists more on paper than in reality, is at a critical juncture. The central government is crippled by a lack of ability to action policies devised by the executive and legislative arms of the state. Ethiopia has skillfully exploited these weaknesses. This vacuum has prompted local leaders to increasingly seek regional partnerships, raising a crucial question: Is Somalia’s sovereignty being eroded from within, or is it being strategically undermined by external forces? And what is the connection between the two?
Ethiopia’s involvement in Somalia has undergone a dramatic transformation over the years. What initially began as securitised relationship, and political mediation has now evolved into a far more comprehensive relationship. Reflecting on this shift, Somali political analyst Mohamed Ibrahim remarked: “Before, our concern was Ethiopia’s influence on Somalia’s security and politicians. Now, they’re after our land. They’ve moved the goalposts 360 degrees, and we’ve allowed it to happen. Who’s really the problem here—Ethiopia or us?”
A retired Somali official who preferred not to be named, who witnessed these developments firsthand, provided further insight into the situation. He, along with many others, believes that the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF), which dominated Ethiopian politics for nearly 30 years, deliberately influenced the design of Somalia’s federal system in the early 2000s as a “divide and rule” tactic. According to the retired official, this system was engineered to deepen clan divisions, ensuring that Somalia remained weak, dependent on Ethiopia, and fragile at the centre. Meles Zenawi, a prime minister during that era, once said it wasn’t Ethiopia’s intention to establish a government for Somalia but that he was “forced by the circumstances”.
This strategy created a recurring cycle where Somali politicians frequently travelled to Addis Ababa, further reinforcing Ethiopia’s grip on Somalia’s political landscape. The retired official noted that Addis Ababa was often regarded as the “Mecca” for Somali politicians—a place where their ambitions were either blessed or rejected, underscoring Ethiopia’s pervasive influence.
Ethiopia’s influence on Somali politics over the past decade has been part of a broader political engineering effort that, with the complicity of certain Somali politicians, that has weakened the Somali government. This shift has led many to question how Somalia allowed this encroachment to occur, and who truly bears responsibility for this unfolding reality.
At the heart of this complex situation is President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, a seasoned politician whose past actions continue to haunt him. His controversial visit to Jigjiga during his previous term, where he renounced Somalia’s claim to the Ogaden, has not been forgotten. “If only Hassan Sheikh hadn’t visited Jigjiga during the brutal TPLF era and endorsed Ethiopia’s claim over the disputed Somali Region,” lamented one critic. “He might have had the leverage to defend Somalia’s territorial integrity today.”
This visit, made during the era of TPLF dominance in Ethiopia, is viewed by many as a betrayal of Somali interests and a move that further emboldened Ethiopia. By seemingly endorsing Ethiopia’s claim over the disputed Somali Region, Mohamud may have inadvertently weakened Somalia’s position in future negotiations, making it harder to resist Ethiopian encroachment today. This perceived endorsement has cast a long shadow over his current presidency, complicating his efforts to defend Somalia’s territorial integrity and sovereignty.
In Gedo, a remote but strategically vital region, Ethiopia’s influence is most evident. Colonel Ali Abshir, who claims to be the deputy chief of the Darwish Forces of the Jubaland regional state, has openly declared his opposition to Egyptian involvement in Somalia, aligning himself instead with Ethiopia. “Egypt’s policies cannot be brought to Jubaland,” he stated. “Egypt’s politics cannot be imposed. We will fight against it just as we fight against Al-Shabab.” His words underscore a growing sentiment in some quarters of the Somali security services in the country.
“Ethiopia offers us what Mogadishu cannot—security and economic opportunity,” Colonel Khaliif Idiris Cismaan, a former officer in the Somali Navy now based in Hiiraan told Geeska. This is, by extension, a testament to Ethiopia’s long-term investment in dividing the Somali body politic. He explained how Ethiopia had enabled and equipped them to liberate their region from al-Shabab. “Their ambulances treated our wounded, and during the floods, it was Ethiopia that raised funds to help us,” he recounted.
When I asked if this was what modern colonialism looked like—not with guns and warships, but with aid and influence—he paused before responding: “Perhaps, but when your people are suffering, you don’t question the hand that helps you.”
The growing reliance on Ethiopia is not limited to Gedo and Hiiraan; it extends into south-west Somalia, where Ethiopian support has become a security guarantee. However, while it has not effectively defeated the threat of al-Shabab, Ethiopia has consolidated its influence and deepened its involvement in Somali affairs. Abdifatah Mahat, chief of staff in the office of the president of South West state, highlighted this when he said: “Before the Ethiopians, we were subjugated by known clans and abused. It was the Ethiopians who rescued us when those closest to us treated us like second-class citizens. We had nothing. Now, we can actually treat patients in hospitals and receive food and humanitarian aid.”
This statement underscores the significant impact of Ethiopian involvement in the region, where local leaders prioritise immediate benefits, even at the potential cost of long-term national sovereignty. It also raises the question of whether the immediate needs of Somali citizens—such as addressing poverty and security challenges—outweigh concerns about long-term national sovereignty.
In south west Somalia, Ethiopian forces now control ten out of 18 districts. Although the people did not choose Ethiopian control, the undeniable reality is that, for over a decade, the Ethiopian presence has kept al-Shabab at bay. However, despite providing security, Ethiopia has not delivered substantial development to the region, nor has it eradicated the threat of al-Shabab.
According to a former southwest official, now a diplomat for the Somali government, a significant number of Somali military personnel come from communities in South West Somalia. However, despite their numbers, they have been unable to defend their region from al-Shabaab. Instead, these troops have been deployed to secure towns such as Jowhar, Baladweyne, and Harardhere. In stark contrast, Hudur, a historic city in Somalia, has only three Somali police officers—remnants from the Siad Barre era—who are left without basic equipment. This situation highlights the stark disparity between areas under Ethiopian control, which receive more robust security support, and those relying solely on local forces, which remain under-resourced and vulnerable.
Abdifatah Mahat recounts a tragic incident in 2015 in Hudur that underscores the vulnerability of these communities. When Ethiopian troops temporarily left the city, al-Shabaab swiftly returned, beheading those who couldn’t flee, including a 90-year-old man. When Ethiopian troops returned, the people had no choice but to accept their presence as a means to ensure their survival.
Communities in south west Somalia find themselves in a precarious position. While there is frustration, there is also an acknowledgement of a harsh reality: without Ethiopian support, they would face al-Shabaab and its retribution alone. This has forced many to align with Ethiopia, not out of loyalty, but out of desperation. Somali nationalists often ignore this point when they rail against Ethiopia’s presence in the country without pausing to consider what alternatives are currently available. This is also not a theoretical or hypothetical exercise. Recent analysis by Paul D Williams, a security expert on Somalia recently found that “al-Shabaab would enjoy a slight military advantage overall” against the SNA. The Somali government doesn’t yet have the means or capacity to fend off al-Shabaab and provide security let alone administer liberated territories and offer services.
If Ethiopia were to withdraw, they might simply tell the locals: “we no longer support you; deal with al-Shabaab on your own.” Faced with this grim prospect, the local people feel they have no choice but to cooperate with Ethiopia. This situation leaves them trapped between a rock and a hard place, forced to choose between accepting Ethiopian control or confronting the unchecked threat of al-Shabaab.
In October 2016, the district of Tiyeeglow, near the Ethiopian border in southern Somalia, became emblematic of this ongoing struggle. The district, which strategically links the Bakool and Hiiraan regions, was captured by al-Shabaab after Ethiopian and Somali forces withdrew to Hudur. This event underscored al-Shabaab’s resilience and their ability to reclaim territory, even after it had been secured by Amisom and government forces. The situation in Tiyeeglow in 2016 mirrored the broader struggle in Somalia, where gains against al-Shabaab were often temporary, and the threat from the militant group remained constant—leaving a vacuum that Ethiopia was always poised to fill.
In Hiiraan, the situation is even more volatile. Abdirahman Diini, with whom I spoke, claims to be part of the emerging Hiiraan state and shared insights into the region’s challenges. Hiiraan, located in central Somalia near key commercial areas in both the south and north, lies close to the Ethiopian border. Diini mentioned that people in this region are deeply concerned about their security situation and living conditions. During Diini’s visit to Feer-feer, he observed firsthand the residents’ anxiety, particularly regarding recent developments in relations with Egypt. According to Diini, the residents’ concerns are not intended to create divisions but rather to affirm their support for Ethiopia, which they believe offers them what the central government of Somalia does not.
Hiiraan is currently part of Hirshabelle state, a region formed in 2016 as part of Somalia’s federal system. However, there is a growing movement in Hiiraan advocating for independence due to numerous grievances with the Hirshabelle government. Diini’s bold declaration in a video that quickly went viral encapsulates this sentiment: “There is no possibility of aligning with Egypt when it comes to security in our Hiiraan community. If foreign troops are to stay in the country, only those from our neighbouring country, Ethiopia, will be accepted here.” This perception is further compounded by political failures at both local and federal levels, creating a vacuum that has allowed Ethiopian influence to grow unchecked.
The root of Somalia’s vulnerability lies in the profound failure of its central politics. “Somalia only exists on paper,” observed London-based analyst Mohamed Ibrahim. “It has no service provision, no security architecture, no governance. This is why Ethiopia is benefiting from Somalia’s fragility.” James Barnett went to the core of the issue whilst reporting on the conflict in Las Anod last year, explaining that Somalis aren’t necessarily “more tribal than other societies” but “clan identities are highly fractal and thus an unstable building block for politics.” This political failure has created a vacuum in some areas that regional powers are eager to fill and in others has retarded the capacity for our politics to develop, mature and become more capable of addressing our needs.
Hassan Keynaan, a former UN official, professor and regional analyst, succinctly captured the dire consequences of this failure in an interview: “A constitution built on illusion and anarchy, where the foundation of law is fragile and unstable, signals the vulnerability of the nation’s very fabric. A parliament born out of feuds and fraud reveals a political system plagued by corruption and self-interest.”
President Mohamud faces an uphill battle as Somalia stands at a critical juncture. It is not enough to simply counter Ethiopian influence; he must present a compelling alternative that addresses regional grievances, delivers tangible benefits and offers the country an inspiring new vision of where he wants to take it, “otherwise, Ethiopia will continue to fill the void,” said Abdi Hassan, a political analyst in Mogadishu.
The broader implications of Somalia’s current situation are stark, as the nation teeters between unity and fragmentation, sovereignty and subordination. Ethiopia’s influence continues to cast a long shadow, and the complex dance of loyalties within this dynamic is far from over. The pressing question now is whether Somalia’s leadership can learn from past mistakes and assert control over the nation’s destiny before it slips further away.
The Somali proverb, “When does the hornbill learn? It learns after being hit by several stones,” aptly captures the critical need for Somalia’s leaders to heed the lessons of their troubled history. The future of Somalia—and indeed the stability of the entire Horn of Africa—hangs in the balance, with the world watching closely to see how the nation navigates this precarious moment.
The words of a young Somali student I spoke to in Mogadishu capture the frustrations of many: “They talk about sovereignty and regional influence. I just want to walk to school without road closures and enjoy Lido Beach without fear of bombs or bullets. Is that too much to ask?” These words underscore the deep yearning for peace and stability among ordinary citizens, highlighting the disconnect between the grand rhetoric of political leaders and the harsh realities faced by everyday Somali people.
The views in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent Geeska's editorial stance.