It is politically convenient to blame Hassan Sheikh Mohamud for Somalia’s collapse. He deserves criticism for executive overreach, constitutional manipulation, and weakening democratic institutions. But to pretend that Somalia’s crisis begins and ends with one man is to misunderstand the disease.
Somalia’s governance crisis is a collective failure. All of us as citizens have failed.
The presidents of the Federal Member States cannot wash their hands of responsibility. Many condemned authoritarianism only after it turned against them. Before that, they tolerated it, legitimized it, or quietly benefited from it. No story illustrates this better than that of Abdulaziz Hassan Mohamed “Lafta Gareen.” He stood firmly behind Hassan Sheikh Mohamud’s political project as Villa Somalia steadily accumulated power. The weakening of constitutional checks and balances did not alarm him because the system appeared to serve his own interests. But power built on expediency rarely remains loyal. Once Lafta Gareen had served his political purpose, he too found himself cast aside by the very system he had helped sustain.
The lesson should not be lost on Sheikh Aden Madoobe, who now occupies the position Lafta Gareen once held through a political process widely criticized by opponents. Those who believe proximity to Villa Somalia guarantees political survival should study Somalia’s recent history carefully. Nor should Ahmed Abdi Kaariye “Qoor Qoor” ignore the warning. His current political difficulties increasingly resemble the trajectory that ended Lafta Gareen’s dominance. In Somalia’s politics, today’s trusted ally can become tomorrow’s expendable liability once political calculations change. The machinery of unconstitutional power has no permanent beneficiaries—it eventually consumes many of those who helped build it.
As Villa Somalia accumulated power, other regional leaders also remained silent because the same concentration of power served their own political interests. Federalism was never meant to produce miniature dictatorships. Yet that is precisely what much of Somalia has become.
Nor are international donors innocent bystanders.
For years, billions of dollars have poured into Somalia in the name of state-building, while institutions remained weak and political elites became stronger. Too often, aid has reinforced patronage networks instead of dismantling them. Stability became the overriding objective; accountability became an afterthought. The result is a political economy in which access to donor resources matters more than delivering public services or respecting constitutional governance.
This is why replacing Hassan Sheikh Mohamud alone will solve nothing.
If the same political culture survives, the next president will inherit—and likely exploit—the very same machinery of patronage, elite bargaining, and institutional capture. Somalia does not merely have a leadership problem; it has a governance system that rewards impunity and punishes accountability.
The country needs more than a change of faces. It needs a return to constitutional rule, genuine checks and balances, empowered legislatures, an independent judiciary, transparent federal-state relations, and donor assistance tied to measurable institutional reforms rather than political expediency.
Until federal leaders, regional presidents, and international partners all accept their share of responsibility, Somalia will continue to change presidents while preserving the very system that keeps failing its people.
The tragedy is not that one leader has failed. The tragedy is that an entire political class—and too many of its international partners—have learned how to survive by managing failure instead of ending it. Unless that political culture changes, Lafta Gareen will not be the last ally to discover that unconstitutional power protects no one—not even those who once believed they were indispensable.
