Translating Somali history into Turkish

In an era where historical narratives about Africa are often filtered through Western-centric perspectives, Making Sense of Somali History is an important contribution, offering a Somali historian’s lens on the nation’s rich but sometimes turbulent past. Authored by Dr Abdurahman Abdullahi Baadiyow, a distinguished Somali scholar and public intellectual, the book covers Somali history, focusing on colonialism, the struggle for independence, the influence of Islamic movements, and the collapse of the modern Somali state.

The Turkish edition, translated by Ebuzer Demirci, combines the first and second volumes of Making Sense of Somali History into a single, unified work, titled Somali Tarihini Anlamlandırmak. This decision not only makes the content more accessible to Turkish readers but also enriches their understanding of Somalia’s historical transformations. Demirci has also incorporated Baadiyow’s seminal article Islamism in Somalia as an additional chapter, highlighting the critical role of Islamic movements in shaping Somali society.

Baadiyow’s historical account, however, isn’t just a rumination of an intellectual in an ivory tower; he is also an active participant in the country’s ongoing quest for stability, working as a senior adviser to President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud on constitutional affairs.  

Ebuzer Demirci’s translation of Baadiyow’s seminal work brings the ideas of an accomplished Somali academic into the Turkish language. By presenting Somalia’s historical journey through an authentic and local narrative, Somali Tarihini Anlamlandırmak becomes an essential resource for scholars, students, and policymakers in Türkiye seeking to engage more deeply with the Horn of Africa, as Ankara becomes a major diplomatic, economic and security player in the region.  

Demirci speaks to Geeska about why he chose to translate the book, the impact he hopes it will have, and the historical relations between Somalia and Türkiye.

Abdihakim Kalale: What inspired you to translate a book on Somali history into Turkish?

Ebuzer Demirci: The decision to translate a book on Somali history into Turkish was driven by a mix of personal curiosity and a sense of responsibility. My connection to Somalia began in 2011, during my first years as a university student, when President (then Prime Minister) Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s historic visit to Somalia ushered in a new era of Türkiye-Somalia relations. Watching this relationship evolve firsthand sparked countless questions in my mind: Where is Somalia? Who are its people? What connects our nations so deeply? Why did our President risk his own life and the lives of those accompanying him to visit Somalia? What does Somalia mean to us? But at the time, I couldn’t find any Turkish resources that provided answers beyond what the media presented to us, and my lack of English made exploring international sources impossible.

Erdoğan’s visit—the visit that led me to ask the questions I couldn’t find answers to back then—wasn’t just symbolic; it paved the way for meaningful cooperation, including bringing thousands of Somali students to Türkiye for education. Some of those students became my peers at Ankara University, famously known as Mekteb-i Mülkiye. Conversations with them gave me glimpses into Somalia’s profound history, rich cultural heritage, and resilient spirit, but it felt like scratching the surface of something far deeper. Somalia, I realized, was like Matryoshka doll—the more I learned, the more there was to uncover.  

In my quest for answers, I encountered two works that initially seemed promising—Somali’ye Bir Umut by Çevik Bir and Afrika Boynuzunda Ne Oldu? by Ümit Kıvanç—yet both fell short of addressing the deeper questions that lingered in my mind. As the years went by, I began to see how biased their perspectives were. Later, Afyare Abdi Elmi’s book Understanding the Somalia Conflagration was translated into Turkish, and it became a groundbreaking resource for readers like me. For the first time, I found answers that felt authentic and meaningful, and the fact that Elmi was Somali himself gave the book an unparalleled depth. In this regard, I would like to express my gratitude to everyone who contributed to bringing this book to Turkish readers. Looking back, what they accomplished is by no means a trivial feat.

Today, my personal library is a reflection of this journey, holding more books on Somalia than on any other topic. Among them are works by remarkable thinkers and writers who have accompanied me on this path to understanding Somalia: Said Sheikh Samatar, Mohamed Ibrahim Warsame, Nuruddin Farah, Aisha Ahmad, Alex de Waal, Abdurahman Abdullahi Baadiyow, Afyare Abdi Elmi, Stig Jarle Hansen, Mohamed Trunji, Ken Menkhaus, and many others whose names I cannot list here but whose contributions sit proudly on my shelves.  

Over the years, Türkiye-Somalia relations have blossomed into a dynamic and multifaceted partnership, evolving from humanitarian aid into areas such as defense, energy, and beyond. Yet, in stark contrast to this deepening relationship, the academic and literary world in Türkiye has struggled to keep pace. In my view, this gap underscores a broader issue—Türkiye’s bureaucracy, in many ways, appears to be far ahead of its academic institutions in producing knowledge about Somalia. Since the translation of Elmi’s groundbreaking book in 2012—a translation that itself was made possible thanks to the vision of the bureaucrats of that time—not a single major work on Somalia has been made available in Turkish. While I was fortunate to access English sources, I often found myself thinking about those who couldn’t, wondering how they could truly grasp the intricacies of a country that has become such an essential partner to Türkiye.  

That was the question that spurred me into action. Translating this work became more than a personal journey; it felt like a responsibility to bridge the gap in understanding between Türkiye and Somalia. Through this effort, I hoped to contribute to a legacy of shared knowledge that could inspire future generations.

As the Somali proverb wisely says: “wixii la qoraa quruumo hadhee, muxuu hadal qiimo leeyahay”—what is written remains for generations, but spoken words hold little value. I believe this captures the essence of why this translation mattered: to ensure that the story of Somalia, its history, and its resilience is preserved, shared, and understood for years to come.

AK: Baadiyow is, of course, a widely respected and prolific academic and historian. What was it about this book specifically that caught your attention?

ED: As I mentioned earlier, I’ve read many works on Somalia, but this particular book stood out to me for several reasons. Unlike other texts, it wasn’t just an academic exercise—it was written by someone who had both studied Somali history and lived it, bearing witness to its evolution firsthand. Making Sense of Somali History struck a rare balance between intellectual depth and clarity, making it accessible to readers from all backgrounds. It followed a rigorous methodology while remaining approachable, offering insights that even those unfamiliar with Somalia could easily grasp. This wasn’t a book written exclusively for scholars; it was a work that could resonate with anyone, from curious students to seasoned readers.

I discovered Baadiyow’s two-volume masterpiece during my studies in the United States. I can still vividly recall the experience of reading it—annotating almost every page as it unveiled layers of Somali history and culture I had never encountered before. Having already read several of Baadiyow’s articles, I was familiar with his approach, but this book stood out for its ability to bring Somalia’s story to life. When I started considering the idea of translating a Somali author’s work into Turkish, Making Sense of Somali History immediately came to mind. It was the perfect choice—a book capable of answering many of the questions people often have about Somalia, whether fundamental or nuanced.

However, understanding Somalia isn’t just about piecing together its political history or analyzing its recent challenges. It’s about understanding the very essence of the Somali people—their culture, values, and the historical events that have shaped their worldview. This is where Baadiyow’s work truly excelled. It didn’t merely recount events; it delved into the deeper processes that have shaped the Somali collective identity. It illuminated the "why" and the "how" behind Somali thought, shedding light on how historical struggles have influenced the way Somalis perceive and respond to the world. For anyone seeking a genuine understanding of Somalia, this cultural and historical perspective is indispensable.

As I mentioned earlier, I’ve read many works on Somalia, but this particular book stood out to me for several reasons. Unlike other texts, it wasn’t just an academic exercise—it was written by someone who had both studied Somali history and lived it, bearing witness to its evolution firsthand.  

AK: What aspects of Somali history did you find most compelling, and why did you feel they needed to be shared with Turkish readers?

ED: My hope was—and still is—that this book would serve as a bridge, connecting Turkish readers to the profound richness of Somali history and culture. I wanted to challenge the widespread misconceptions often shaped by biases or western narratives that misrepresent not just Africa as a whole, but Somalia specifically. Too often, Somalia is viewed only through the lens of its recent struggles, overshadowing its deep historical legacy. Through this translation, I sought to reveal a more accurate narrative: Somalia is so much more than the challenges it has faced in recent decades. It is a nation of extraordinary resilience, shaped by centuries of state-building, cultural achievements, and meaningful global interactions.

Every time I visit Somalia, I am reminded of this truth again and again—Somalia is, above all, a land of hope. Despite being perceived as a fragmented society today, much of this fragmentation stems from artificial divisions imposed in recent history. Colonialism, the cold war, internal conflicts, and the ongoing threat of terrorism have all left their mark, but they are not the essence of Somalia. These divisions are products of external interference over the past 150 years. When left to their own agency, Somalis have historically demonstrated a remarkable ability to rise above artificial boundaries.

While Somalia may be searching for its state today, it is crucial to understand that the Somali people are not a nation in search of their identity. They are a unified nation in search of their state—a vital distinction that underscores their deep-rooted solidarity and shared sense of belonging. Baadiyow’s book vividly captures this dynamic, illustrating how the mental constructs and artificial boundaries imposed by history can be dismantled. His work provides a roadmap for overcoming these divisions and highlights the immense potential of the Somali people to reclaim their unity and look to the future with renewed hope.

This perspective is something I deeply felt needed to be shared with Turkish readers. In my travels across East Africa, one truth became abundantly clear: Somalis care deeply for one another, no matter where they are. A Somali in Djibouti is invested in the well-being of a Somali in Kenya, just as someone in Jigjiga cares about what happens in Mogadishu. This sense of connection—this unwavering concern for one another, even across borders—is an invaluable quality for any nation. We Turks are much the same. Whether within or beyond our borders, we care deeply about our fellow Turks. And it doesn’t stop there—we take pride in embracing the struggles of the broader Muslim community, making their concerns our own. This sense of responsibility, this ability to see others’ pain as our own, is something we hold dear and celebrate.

AK: Why do you think Somali history is important for a Turkish audience to understand?

ED: Somali history is vital for a Turkish audience to understand because the bond between Türkiye and Somalia isn’t something new—it is a responsibility shaped by shared history, faith, and values. Geographic distance or differences in appearance have never truly separated us; rather, we have always been part of the same larger story. To view ourselves as disconnected is to fall into the narrative of those who have worked, and still work, to divide us.

The question is, how did this distance between us emerge in the first place? The answer lies in the shared struggles of our histories. The same forces that dismantled the Ottoman Empire were the ones that fractured Somalia. From the early 1900s to recent decades, invisible walls were built between us, ensuring we remained disconnected. These walls were not simply geographical; they were historical and ideological barriers designed to prevent solidarity and mutual understanding. Even today, there are efforts—both external and internal—that aim to keep us apart. However, I must emphasize that President Erdoğan’s 2011 visit, followed by the sustained interest of Turkish bureaucracy and civil society in Somalia, tore through these malicious barriers. It demolished the walls that those with ill intent had built to separate us and reignited the deep connection between Türkiye and Somalia.  

But what has happened in the past decade shows that those barriers can be overcome. Türkiye-Somalia relations have evolved beyond mere diplomacy into a deeper connection—one that feels like a restoration of what always should have been. It’s a return to the natural course of history, where two nations with shared values and mutual respect stand together.

To ensure that this bond continues to strengthen, we must prioritize understanding. Somalis know Türkiye well. They are a people open to the world, and many have lived, studied, and worked in Türkiye, giving them a deep awareness of our culture and society. However, the same cannot always be said for Turks when it comes to Somalia. This is where knowledge becomes essential. Translations, shared stories, and historical insights are the tools we need to close this gap.