The Hawiye–Darood Punchline Politics

©️ 2025 WDM

Somali politics is now reduced to stand-up comedy. Not the witty, clever sort of comedy—but the type that makes you choke on your shaah because you can’t decide whether to laugh, cry, or book the next flight out of Aden Adde Airport.

In one corner, President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud plays the role of tribal comedian-in-chief. His latest “joke” to Prime Minister Hamse’s Ahmed Nur Uleex went like this:

“The bad guys of Hawiye kicked you Darood out of Mogadishu with Siyad Barre. Now let the good boys of Hawiye rule you.”

Cue nervous laughter.

If Somalia’s bloody civil war is now a punchline, then the man at Villa Somalia is the MC of a dark comedy club where no one asked to buy a ticket. Jokes about mass displacement, clan-driven purges, and the bones of Mogadishu’s rubble don’t usually get laughs—but in the world of clan-state politics, they count as presidential banter.

Meanwhile, former Interior Minister Abdikarim Hussein, with his trademark arrogance, took his turn at the mic to bash the Murursade clan. He expected applause for the insult. Instead, President Hassan Sheikh—this time channeling his inner tribal referee—jumped in to defend Murursade, reminding everyone that Murursade “played an important role when General Siyad Barre was being chased out of Mogadishu.”

Translation: Yes, they helped burn down the house, so they deserve a seat at the table while we argue over the ashes.

This is the political circus Somalia is trapped in: rulers exchanging clan jokes like it’s open mic night, where history’s bloodiest tragedies are reduced to inside jokes between political elites. Today’s insult is tomorrow’s defense, all depending on which faction needs stroking.

The tragedy? Somalia’s statecraft has become little more than clan-memory karaoke, where leaders sing old war ballads in new tones. The people starve, the roads rot, the soldiers block highways demanding unpaid salaries—but in Villa Somalia, the entertainment program continues.

If there is one lesson here, it’s that our politicians no longer govern—they perform. They juggle clan grievances, toss around tribal jokes, and pretend it’s leadership. And as long as the audience keeps clapping, the comedy club will never close.

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