Strange bedfellows: Why Puntland fell in love with Somaliland?

Somaliland has, for the first time since its foundation in 1991, received a signal of appreciation for its course from a part of Somalia. The 35th anniversary of its declaration of separation from the Republic of Somalia was celebrated in Garowe and elsewhere in Puntland. This development has many implications for the future of Somali unity. But it says much more about the identity crisis Puntland finds itself in after 28 years of its establishment.

Created as an antithesis to Somaliland’s separatist project, Puntland’s founding principle was to restore the Somali state and preserve its unity. However, it reneged on that principle last October when it signed the Nairobi Accord, acknowledging Somaliland’s right to self-determination. This marked a seismic shift after years of insisting that Somali unity was non-negotiable. And that its raison d’être was to ensure the nation remained whole.

What has changed? Of course, Puntland’s position was neither rooted in indelible hatred for Somaliland’s secession nor in unconditional love for Somali unity. It drew upon political calculations that, to a greater degree, no longer exist.

These political calculations stemmed from a perception in the first place. The elites from Puntland—then North East—did not view Somaliland as a separatist entity but as a bargaining chip. Shadowed by the past political rivalry, they perceived Somaliland as another attempt by elites in the North to gain leverage in Mogadishu.

In their view, the Somalilanders’ rationale was this: power should be divided equally between British Somaliland and Italian Somaliland as partners in the union, or else. Had power been divided on those lines, Northeastern elites would have lost the political influence they had been building since independence and beyond.

They imagined such a risk and acted on it. They devised a political administration, Puntland, that would void Somaliland’s perceived aspirations in two ways. First, Puntland would be the cornerstone of a federal Somalia. Instead of an asymmetric federation in which Somaliland would receive more concessions as a former British colony, the federal system would grant equal powers to yet-to-be-formed states throughout the country.

The federalism idea was then partly a response to the Imagined perception that Somaliland was a bargaining chip by the Northern elites to secure more power positions in Mogadishu. If that was the case, Puntland’s federalism ploy was a success. For one, the idea of federalism split the Northern elites. While some elites insisted on Somaliland’s independence, others joined the federal system and claimed their quota in politics.

For two, even though Somaliland administers its territory independently, it is still officially approached as a member state of the federal government. It is by that identity that, by and large, it receives donations and political representation.

However, as a political project, Puntland not only nullified Somaliland as a bargaining chip within Somalia but also diminished the other possibility—its potential to become an independent state. In addition to federalism, Puntland advanced the notion that the federal states would be based on clan lineage.

The clan lineage scheme would undermine Somaliland’s territorial legitimacy, which rests on colonial borders. Unfortunately for Somaliland, two major clans within British colonial borders share common ancestry with clans in Puntland. Northeastern elites were targeting these clans when they proposed the lineage scheme. Indeed, the elders of these clans were among the leading signatories of Puntland’s founding charter.

As such, Puntland had been a thorn in Somalilanders’ side since its inception. By advancing a federal system, it killed the possibility of their getting a lion’s share of political power in Somalia. And by applying the clan-lineage power division, it damaged their separatist cause by inviting territorial disputes.

But it did not end there.

Puntland would take the leadership of federal Somalia. The president of the first federal government would be none other than Puntland’s first president and one of its founding fathers, Abduallahi Yusuf Ahmed.

Here is where Puntland’s opposition to Somaliland has taken a concrete form. During this period, Puntland was not merely a federal member state but rather the ruling force in Somalia. This meant that Puntland should spearhead any military campaign to curb Somaliland and be included in any national dialogue with Somaliland. In other words, Puntland's interests and Somali politics merged into a single entity.

This merger had some benefits, but they paled in comparison to its downsides. One downside was that Puntland could not adopt a policy toward Somaliland that differed from Somalia's. Conversely, it became more hawkish than Somalia on the question of Somaliland.

This was a mistake on several grounds. On legal grounds, Puntland was as much part of Somalia as Somaliland was. That is, there were no legal codes that gave Puntland authority to be the police of unity over the rest of Somalia. As Puntland could not deny the belonging rights of any Somalis, it could not refuse the lack thereof.

On rational grounds, Puntland alone shouldered a burden that Somalis should share equally. If unity benefits all, why should only Puntland be responsible for its defense? Puntland got a simple formula wrong: if we are going to share the benefits, we should share the costs. Instead, they lost Puntland lives, Puntland wealth, and Puntland arms in defense of Somalia's unity, Somalia's land, and Somalia's sovereignty. Puntland did charity here—unlucky them, politics rarely rewards charity.

On political grounds, Puntland pushed the Northern elites into the hands of the Southern elites. This was a deadly miscalculation. Puntland overlooked the fact that its clout in Mogadishu stemmed from its alliance with the Northern elites. In fact, the Northern elites were the kingmakers of Northeastern presidencies. Abdirashid Ali Sharmarke came to power thanks to Muhammad Haji Ibrahim Egal. And even Abdullahi Yusuf Ahmed could not have secured victory without their votes. In other words, the Northeastern elites' absence from the presidency over the last 17 years coincides with their animosity toward Somaliland.

And here lies the secret to Puntland’s sudden affection for Somaliland.

It began with a loss—a bitter loss, a double loss. Since Abduallahi Yusuf Ahmed, every Puntland president has tried to make his way to Villa Somalia. Because of this tradition, Puntland has served as a stepping stone in national politics.

Other than Abduallahi Yusuf Ahmed, no other president has been successful so far. However, Said Abdullahi Deni came close. He did the impossible and almost everything illegal to get that close. Puntland officials, parliament members, elders, and the public watched as he single-handedly selected the members who would represent Puntland in the national parliament.

Elders did not like being rendered powerless; the public did not appreciate the corruption, but there was also an unspoken conviction—Puntland should end the presidential drought, no matter what.

Said Abdullahi Deni topped the first round of voting. However, he lost the election. Fortunately, that was not the only plan. His votes went to his political ally, who had promised him the prime ministership if he was elected president. However, the ally did not follow through on the promise. The charity did not pay off—again.

Said Abdullahi Deni’s defeat was the mother of all Puntland presidential defeats. Not only did it culminate all previous defeats, but it also reflected how disproportionate Puntland’s actions to oust the previous president, who clung to power and sought to extend his reign by two years, were to its role in the subsequent government. Once again, Puntland incurred costs without any benefits.

Said Abdullahi Deni’s double loss marked a political epiphany in Puntland. He realized that the only path to Villa Somalia runs through the North.

So began the pivot to the North.

However, the timing was anything but ideal. Puntland’s pivot to the North came as Muse Bihi Abdi— a colonel who tended to favor military solutions over diplomatic engagement—presided over Somaliland. It also coincided with a popular revolt in parts of SSC—disputed areas between the two administrations, then under Somaliland’s control.

Puntland faced a dilemma. While Puntland wanted to make amends with Somaliland, leaving these areas under Somaliland's control without an understanding was a poor option. On the other hand, SCC was pushing to establish its own administration. This was an even worse option, and Puntland did not want to help them. But the public in Puntland was sympathetic to SCC's cause, and the government could not stand idly by for much longer.

Puntland had to walk on eggshells. They finally came up with a smart plan, announced by Said Abdullahi Deni himself: Somaliland must withdraw its forces from Las Anod, or Puntland will intervene militarily. Of course, Puntland was not planning to go to war over SCC. On the contrary, this was a subtle plan aimed at creating room for conflict among the SCC wings. The SCC were politically divergent, and the unifying element was the wholesale repression by Somaliland. If Somaliland pulled out its forces, the disagreements would have had a chance to breathe.

Somaliland’s opposition and some elders picked up on Puntland’s message. However, the administration, blindsided by the political calculations surrounding the upcoming elections, did not heed it.

The casualties in Las Anod were politically costly for Puntland. Moreover, Said Abdullahi Deni faced a darker possibility. If Muse Bihi Abdi managed to hold on to Las Anod until the elections, that might help him get reelected as the only candidate capable of keeping Somaliland whole. In such a scenario, Said Abdullahi Deni would lose both SCC and Somaliland.

He had to act quickly—he could not handle another double loss. But if he sent his military to war, which would have led to SCC’s secession from Puntland, that would be another double loss. So, he greenlit the clans instead.

Although he lost SCC to the federal government, Said Abdullahi Deni could finally pivot to the North. Abdirahman Mohamed Irro, a former diplomat who replaced Muse Bihi Abdi, embraced Said Abdullahi Deni. Soon after, the two administrations signed the Nairobi Accord, under which Puntland finally recognized Somaliland’s right to pursue independence. They also agreed to cooperate on security and to resolve their territorial disputes peacefully, especially in Erigavo. However, only time will tell whether Irro helps Deni become president.

Nonetheless, Puntland’s pivot to the North carries a heavier psychological burden than my writing suggests. After 28 years of striving for Somali unity, Puntland’s 180-degree turn is more profound than Deni’s desire to be Somalia’s president. Why Puntland accepted Somaliland’s right to statehood goes beyond the interests of political elites.

Puntland’s disillusionment with the federal government had long stemmed from financial, political, and constitutional disagreements. These issues had never affected how dear Somali unity was to elites and ordinary people in Puntland. However, the war with ISIS marked the turning point.

Once the federal government looked on as Puntland boys and girls held off the international terrorist coalition from the rest of Somalia without extending a helping hand, even when they asked for one, the existential question of what unity was for arose. When foreign nations came to the rescue of the wounded while their government acted as if they were not its own, the notion of one-nationhood came under question.

If it had only been that much. Puntland faced greater threats to its territorial integrity and even its existence from the last three federal governments than any other state, including Somaliland. The writing was on the wall for the shift we see in Puntland now. It was only a matter of when—never if.

Finally, the international and regional context in which Puntland’s policy shift aligns is undeniable. Puntland’s reneging on unity occurs within an international order that has moved beyond national sovereignty and scrubbed nation-building projects. Superpowers and regional powers are decentralizing security, focusing on military bases in strategic areas, light operations, and glocal (global and local) personnel. Puntland’s policy shift better fits this decentralized securitization approach. It seems they read the room—and read it right.