Somalia has learned, painfully, that leadership does not end with ballots, speeches, or borrowed legitimacy from foreign podiums. It ends when reality knocks. And reality, as usual, arrives late, uninvited, and unimpressed.

This image—circulating quietly, almost shyly—does not scream victory. It does not promise miracles. It does not declare itself the future. That alone makes it revolutionary.

What it shows is something Somalia has been starved of for decades: the early outline of post-Hassan Sheikh Mohamud politics, beyond May 2026. Not slogans. Not clan arithmetic. Not Villa Somalia theatrics. But faces that suggest influence, continuity, negotiation, and uncomfortable political conversations.

Although not necessarily more qualitative, it carries visible signs of reckoning—a rare political currency in a country exhausted by grand claims and chronic under-delivery.

In Somalia, that is radical.

The End of the Traveling Presidency

For nearly a decade, Somali politics has resembled a departure lounge. Leadership was measured in air miles, hotel conferences, and donor applause. Governance was something to be discussed abroad, not practiced at home. Federalism became a word to be recited, not respected. National reconciliation turned into an annual slogan, dusted off whenever legitimacy dipped.

The post-2026 moment, however, will not tolerate this circus. The country is exhausted. The regions are assertive. The people are watching.

This image hints at figures who understand that Somalia is no longer governed from one compound, one clan narrative, or one donor briefing. It suggests personalities shaped by friction—between federal member states and Mogadishu, between tradition and modern statehood, between unity and forced uniformity.

A New Kind of Political Gravity

What makes this emerging constellation interesting is not perfection—but plurality.

These are not messiahs. They are not strongmen. They are not loud. And that is precisely the point.

They represent something Somalia desperately needs:

Leaders who know federalism is not rebellion

Figures who grasp that reconciliation is not surrender

Personalities who accept that power must circulate—or it explodes

If Hassan Sheikh’s era was defined by central accumulation and political monoculture, the post-2026 phase—if this image is any indication—may finally reintroduce political gravity, where influence is earned, not imposed.

Satire Aside, This Is Serious

Of course, Somalis are trained skeptics. We have seen promising faces before—only to watch them mutate once they taste Villa Somalia tea. We know how quickly “national figures” become “national disappointments.”

But satire must also know when to pause.

This image does not promise salvation. It promises possibility—not excellence, not genius, but a baseline of political honesty long absent from the stage. And in Somalia’s political history, even that is not cheap.

It whispers—quietly—that the next chapter may not be written by one man, one network, or one borrowed script. It suggests that post-Hassan Sheikh Somalia might finally rediscover dialogue over dominance.

The Real Test Ahead

If these emerging figures truly shape the future, their test will be simple and brutal:

Will they respect federal member states as partners, not provinces?

Will they treat reconciliation as a process, not a photo-op?

Will they govern Somalia as a shared republic, not a captured estate?

If they do, May 2026 may not mark just the end of a presidency—but the end of an era of political recycling.

And if they fail?

Somalia, as always, will survive them too—but poorer in hope.

For now, this image stands as an early signal flare in a long night: the idea that Somalia’s future leadership might finally look forward, not inward.

Welcome to Somalia, the only country on earth where time itself has been federalized, fragmented, and thoroughly humiliated.

Here, clocks are decorative items, calendars are opinion pieces, and Friday—the holiest day in Islam—has been stretched, bent, sliced, and redistributed like a contested aid package. Ask ten Somalis when Friday night begins, and you will receive ten answers, all delivered with absolute confidence and theological authority.

Is Thursday evening Friday?
Is it Saturday on Friday evening?
And most importantly: is a Somali day still 24 hours, or has it been downsized like a donor budget?

No one knows. And worse—no one agrees.

A Day That Begins Yesterday Evening and Ends Tomorrow Evening?

In today’s Somalia, a “day” is no longer a fixed unit of time. It is a political and cultural negotiation.

Friday begins when someone decides it begins. It ends when someone else says it ends. In between, weddings are scheduled, shops are closed, prayers are announced, and public debates erupt—often heated, sometimes violent—over whether now is still Friday or already Saturday.

We have managed to turn timekeeping, one of humanity’s earliest scientific achievements, into a clan-based interpretive exercise.

This is not astronomy.
This is not jurisprudence.
This is chronological anarchy.

Importing Confusion by the Container Load

Where did this madness come from?

Some blame it on “Arab ways of counting time”—the idea that a day begins at sunset, creating a Frankenstein creature made of two halves of two different days. Others point fingers at poorly translated religious traditions, half-learned fiqh lessons, and WhatsApp sheikhs who discovered theology on YouTube last week.

But let us be honest: Somalia did not just import this confusion—it weaponized it.

We imported clocks from Europe, prayers from Arabia, lunar calendars from scholars, solar calendars from colonial offices, and then never bothered to reconcile any of them. The result? A nation where Thursday night can legally, spiritually, and socially be Friday, depending on who is speaking—and where.

Federalism, But Make It Temporal

Naturally, Somalia being Somalia, even time could not escape federalism.

In one town, Friday night starts at sunset Thursday.
In another, it begins at midnight.
In a third, it starts when the mosque loudspeaker says so.
In a fourth, it starts when the wedding hall lights turn on.

We now live under Multiple Time Zones Without Borders.

GMT? Forget it.
EAT? Optional.
Somali Time? Negotiable.

This is federalism taken to its logical extreme: every community is its own time authority.

When Religion Becomes Casual and Science Optional

Ironically, this chaos is defended in the name of religion—yet it violates both religious discipline and scientific reason.

Islam is precise. Astronomy is precise. Prayer times are calculated to the minute. Yet in Somalia, we treat time like a rumor: flexible, adjustable, and open to reinterpretation after dinner.

We argue passionately about when Friday starts, but show little concern for when honesty starts, when accountability starts, or when governance starts.

Apparently, God demands accuracy in prayer times—but not in clocks.

A Nation That Lost Its Watch—and Its Way

This confusion over days is not a small issue. It is a symbol.

A country that cannot agree on when a day begins will struggle to agree on:

when elections should be held

when mandates expire

when contracts start and end

when responsibility begins

When time itself is blurred, accountability evaporates.

Missed a deadline?
“It was still Friday night.”

Extended your term?
“Friday hasn’t ended yet.”

Delayed salaries?
“Time is relative.”

Conclusion: Reset the Clock, Reset the Mind

Somalia does not need new clocks. It needs clarity of thought.

A day is 24 hours.
Friday is Friday.
Night is night.

Religion does not fear precision.
Culture does not require confusion.
And identity is not threatened by a clock that actually works.

Until Somalia makes peace with time, time will continue to mock Somalia.

And somewhere, in the middle of Thursday-Friday-Saturday, a Somali will confidently announce:

“Relax. It’s still Friday night.” The day starts from one morning until the next morning.

———–

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https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2025/12/18/new-somalia-evisa-security-puts-passport-details-of-thousands-at-risk

In a sane moral universe, this question would not even exist. Hatred is hatred. Bigotry is bigotry. Dehumanization—whether aimed at Jews, Christians, Muslims, atheists, or anyone else—rots societies from the inside out. Yet we do not live in a sane moral universe. We live in an age where words are not merely descriptive; they are weapons. And nowhere is this more visible than in the increasingly cynical deployment of the term antisemitism, and the conspicuous silence around its mirror image: goyism.

Let us be clear from the outset: antisemitism is real, historically catastrophic, and morally indefensible. It produced pogroms, ghettos, expulsions, and the Holocaust—the darkest industrialized crime in human history. Any attempt to trivialize or deny that legacy is obscene. Jews, like all peoples, have the absolute right to safety, dignity, and freedom from persecution.

But acknowledging that truth does not require surrendering reason. Nor does it justify the intellectual fraud now underway in many political and media circles.

From Shield to Sword: The Mutation of “Antisemitism”

Today, antisemitism has been stretched far beyond its original meaning. It is no longer confined to hatred of Jews as Jews. Instead, it is increasingly invoked to describe:

criticism of the Israeli government,

opposition to Zionist ideology,

protest against occupation, siege, or collective punishment,

or even appeals to international law and human rights.

In this distorted framework, a Jewish anti-Zionist can be labeled antisemitic, while a non-Jewish supporter of ethnic supremacy is applauded as a “friend of Israel.” This is not moral clarity. It is semantic coercion.

When a word that once named a real and deadly hatred is inflated to silence debate, it loses precision—and eventually credibility. That is not a victory against antisemitism; it is a gift to it.

The Taboo Twin: What Is Goyism?

Now enter the term no one wants to touch.

Goyism—the belief in Jewish exceptionalism taken to the point of contempt for non-Jews—is not a myth invented by antisemites. It is a documented attitude present in some religious, political, and ideological currents, just as supremacist thinking exists in all communities when power goes unchecked.

Goyism manifests when:

non-Jewish lives are treated as expendable,

international law is dismissed because “it doesn’t apply to us,”

mass civilian suffering is justified by ethnic or theological hierarchy,

critics are dehumanized as morally inferior simply for not belonging to the “chosen” group.

To name this phenomenon is not antisemitism. It is anti-supremacism. The refusal to acknowledge its existence, however, is intellectual dishonesty.

Which Is Worse?

The question itself is flawed.

Asking “which is worse” is like asking whether racism or sectarianism is more poisonous. Both kill. Both corrode. Both rely on the same logic: some lives matter more than others.

Antisemitism targets Jews.
Goyism targets non-Jews.

Both deny equal human worth. Both are morally bankrupt.

The real danger lies not in naming either, but in ranking suffering, monopolizing victimhood, and criminalizing criticism.

The WAPMEN Position: No Sacred Hatreds

Warsame Digital Media rejects all ethnic, religious, and civilizational supremacism—without exception and without fear.

Hatred of Jews is wrong. Period.

Hatred of non-Jews is wrong. Period.

Exploiting historical trauma to justify present-day injustice is wrong.

Turning moral language into a bludgeon against dissent is wrong.

There are no holy bigotries.
There are no protected supremacies.
There are no untouchable ideologies.

If antisemitism must be confronted honestly, then so must goyism. If Jewish lives matter—as they absolutely do—then all lives must matter equally, not rhetorically, but in practice.

Anything less is not justice.
It is tribalism dressed up as morality.

And history has already shown us where that road leads.

Beware of Fraudsters Exploiting Salary Delays

Members of the public are advised to remain highly vigilant. Reports indicate that thieves and con artists in Puntland are taking advantage of real and perceived stories about civil servants, workers, and members of the armed security forces who are experiencing prolonged salary delays or non-payment for months.

These individuals exploit public sympathy by falsely claiming to be unpaid government employees or security personnel, soliciting money, assistance, or other forms of support from well-meaning citizens, businesses, and members of the diaspora.

⚠️ Be cautious and alert:

Do not give money or assistance based solely on emotional appeals.

Verify claims before offering any financial or material support.

Be especially careful with requests made through phone calls, social media, or intermediaries.

Report suspicious behavior to local authorities or community leaders.

Solidarity without exploitation
While genuine hardship exists and deserves institutional solutions, fraud and deception only deepen mistrust and harm society. Helping must be guided by verification, transparency, and accountability, not manipulation.

Do not be a victim. Do not enable fraud.
Protect yourself, protect your community, and spread awareness.

Public Safety & Community Awareness Notice

Donald J. Trump and his MAGA movement are obsessed—pathologically so—with one woman: Congresswoman Ilhan Omar. The evidence is not subtext; it is screamed at rallies where crowds chant “Send her back!” following his lead. It is in Trump’s own words, calling her “garbage” and her native Somalia a “filthy, dirty, disgusting” country. Omar herself has described this relentless focus as a “weird” and “creepy” obsession.

But why? Not because she commands armies or controls institutions. She doesn’t. And not because she is uniquely radical in a Congress stuffed with ideological extremes. She isn’t.

It is because she represents what MAGA fears most: a minority that did not arrive quietly, assimilate on their terms, or ask for permission to succeed. She embodies a community that, in a single generation, has gone from refugee resettlement to electing representatives to a city council, a state legislature, and the United States Congress—herself being the historic first.

This rapid ascent shatters a foundational nativist myth. To ideologues like Trump’s senior adviser Stephen Miller—whose arguments for immigration policy seek a return to 1920s-style racial quotas—groups from what he calls “third world countries” like Somalia were destined to “replicate the conditions they left.” They were meant to be permanent guests, not architects of policy.

Ilhan Omar proved them wrong. And the backlash is not merely rhetorical; it is operational. Following Trump’s inflammatory comments, U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) launched operations targeting undocumented immigrants in the Twin Cities’ Somali community, leading to what Omar decried as the racial profiling of U.S. citizens. The administration also moved to end Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for Somalis. The message is clear: rhetoric fuels policy, and fear justifies enforcement.

This pattern is driven by a single ideological engine: the Great Replacement Theory. This paranoid, racist belief that “real Americans” are being demographically and culturally replaced is now mainstream on the American right. Miller’s rhetoric “borrow[s], at least in spirit” from this conspiracy theory, warning of “voting blocs loyal to foreign interests” and “civilizational erasure.” Omar has stated that Miller “regularly echoes” this toxic theory. When arguments fail, identity is weaponized. Hence the relentless, false claims that she is in the country illegally or committed marriage fraud—the oldest tricks in the nativist handbook, designed to permanently label someone as “other.”

What truly terrifies Trumpism, then, is not Ilhan Omar the individual, but Ilhan Omar the symbol: a Black, Muslim, refugee woman who punctures their mythology. She speaks without apology, wins elections without their blessing, and, most unforgivably, defines her own American story. She calls her journey the realization of the American Dream, inspired by her grandfather’s faith in a country “where you can eventually become American.” She draws a line between the hate from official Washington and the “real America” that welcomed her.

In doing so, she holds up a mirror to America’s unresolved anxieties. She notes that this rhetoric “reminds of the way the Nazis described Jewish people in Germany,” placing it in the brutal continuum of American history—where Irish Catholics were depicted as vermin, Italians were lynched, and Japanese Americans were interned. Every non-Anglo-Saxon group has been attacked until it organized, resisted, and forced recognition.

The lesson for Somalis—and for all targeted minorities—is stark and non-negotiable: politics is not a spectator sport. Representation is not gifted. It is seized. Rights are protected not by silence but by numbers, discipline, and relentless civic engagement.

Ilhan Omar is not the problem. She is the warning of the future MAGA fears, where the marginalized claims power and  refuses to be invisible. But that future is already here with votes, organisations, and successive winnings at all levels and fields of public life.

WAPMEN EDITORIAL

There is a dangerous delusion stalking Mogadishu’s corridors of power. It goes like this: “We control the capital. We sit in Villa Somalia. Therefore, we control Somalia.”
This is not sovereignty. This is fantasy politics dressed in state uniforms.

Mogadishu is a capital city, not a crown. Villa Somalia is a building, not a mandate from the Somali people. Occupancy does not equal ownership. Sitting in a chair does not confer authority over a nation that is federal by constitution, collective by history, and plural by political reality.

The Capital Fallacy

The belief that controlling Mogadishu equals controlling Somalia is a relic of the failed unitary state that collapsed in 1991. That system died in blood and ruins. Trying to resurrect it through rhetoric and coercion is not leadership—it is historical amnesia.

Somalia today is not a city-state. It is a multi-layered federal republic composed of Federal Member States with constitutional standing, political legitimacy, and territorial ownership. No amount of flag-waving in Mogadishu can erase that fact.

Fake Sovereignty, Real Damage

Claiming monopoly over Somali foreign policy, national representation, and sovereignty—while ignoring or marginalizing Federal Member States—is not statecraft. It is institutional fraud.

Sovereignty in a federal system is shared, negotiated, and consent-based. It flows upward from the people and their states, not downward from Villa Somalia press releases. Without the endorsement, participation, and consent of Puntland, Jubaland, Southwest, and Galmudug, Hirshabelle, there is no legitimate national authority—only a shrinking circle of self-affirmation.

Somalia Is Not Owned—It Is Held in Trust

Somalia is a collective political property, not the private estate of whoever controls Mogadishu’s checkpoints. The Federal Government is a trustee, not a landlord. Trustees who mistake themselves for owners always end the same way: rejected, resisted, and eventually removed.

You do not control Somalia because:

You control Mogadishu

You sit in Villa Somalia

You issue passports or attend international forums

You control Somalia only when all its constituent states consent to the project. Anything else is delusion backed by insecurity.

The Federal Reality Check

Federalism is not optional. It is not a concession. It is the price of Somali survival after state collapse. Attempts to centralize power by sidelining states, weaponizing foreign policy, or pretending Somalia begins and ends at KM4 are acts of political sabotage.

The sooner Mogadishu’s power-holders accept this reality, the better. Somalia does not need another strongman fantasy. It needs constitutional humility, shared governance, and genuine partnership.

Final Word

Villa Somalia is not Somalia.
Mogadishu is not the country.
Control without consent is not sovereignty—it is occupation of office.

Somalia belongs to all its peoples, all its states, and all its regions—or it belongs to no one at all.

—

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WAPMEN Academic Essay / Policy Paper

Ismail H. Warsame
Founder & Editor-in-Chief, WAPMEN (Warsame Policy & Media Network)
Former Chief of Cabinet (Chief of Staff), Puntland State of Somalia (1998–2004)

Abstract

WAPMEN Policy Context: This academic essay is published as part of the Warsame Policy & Media Network (WAPMEN) series on Somali state formation, federalism, and conflict governance. It is intended for scholars, policymakers, federal and state-level officials, and international partners engaged in Somalia’s political stabilization.

The early years of Puntland State of Somalia were marked by profound institutional fragility, contested legitimacy, and acute security dilemmas. This paper examines the 2000–2001 internal military confrontation involving Jama Ali Jama and General Adde Muse Hersi against the administration of Abdullahi Yusuf Ahmed. While acknowledging the personal sacrifices and historical roles of the principal actors, the study argues that two core strategic miscalculations shaped the outcome of the conflict: first, the assumption that control of Bosaso port equated to control of Puntland State; and second, the misreading of the confrontation as a narrow intra-clan dispute rather than a challenge to a broader political compact underpinning Puntland’s formation. By situating these errors within theories of state formation, political legitimacy, and post-conflict governance, the paper contributes to a deeper understanding of why early Puntland survived internal fracture and what lessons this episode offers for contemporary Somali federalism.

Keywords: Puntland, Bosaso Port, state formation, legitimacy, Somali federalism, political conflict

1. Introduction

The establishment of Puntland State in 1998 represented one of the earliest attempts to reconstruct Somali governance after the collapse of the central state in 1991. Conceived as a bottom-up political project rooted in local reconciliation and collective security, Puntland emerged in an environment characterized by institutional weakness, militarization of politics, and unresolved clan grievances. Within three years of its founding, Puntland faced an existential crisis during the 2000–2001 internal confrontation that pitted rival political-military coalitions against each other.

This paper revisits that crisis through an analytical lens rather than a purely commemorative or polemical one. While written in the context of remembrance and condolence for the late Jama Ali Jama and General Adde Muse Hersi, it seeks to extract analytically useful lessons from their political choices and strategic calculations. The central question addressed is not one of moral judgment, but of political reasoning: why did the challenge to the Puntland state project fail, and what does this reveal about the nature of authority, legitimacy, and statehood in post-collapse Somalia?

2. Historical Context: Puntland’s Foundational Moment

Puntland’s formation was the product of a series of reconciliation conferences involving eastern and northeastern Darood clans, culminating in the Garowe constitutional process of 1998. Unlike faction-based administrations in southern Somalia, Puntland articulated itself as a collective political covenant designed to restore order, provide basic governance, and shield its territory from the centrifugal violence afflicting the rest of the country (Lewis 2002; Samatar 2001).

However, this foundational consensus remained fragile. Institutions were nascent, security forces were unevenly integrated, and political authority rested as much on negotiated legitimacy as on coercive capacity. In such an environment, political disputes—particularly leadership succession and constitutional interpretation—carried a high risk of militarization. The 2000–2001 confrontation must therefore be understood not as an anomaly, but as a stress test of an unproven political system.

3. The First Strategic Miscalculation: Bosaso as a Proxy for State Power

A central assumption guiding the strategy of Jama Ali Jama and General Adde Muse Hersi was that control of Bosaso port—Puntland’s principal economic artery on the Gulf of Aden—would translate into effective control of the state. From a materialist perspective, this reasoning had surface plausibility. Bosaso generated customs revenue, facilitated external trade, and served as Puntland’s main gateway to the outside world.

Yet this assumption conflated economic leverage with political legitimacy. As studies of state formation emphasize, territorial control and revenue extraction alone do not constitute state authority; they must be embedded in recognized political frameworks and social consent (Menkhaus 2004; de Waal 2003). Puntland’s cohesion in 2000–2001 derived less from Bosaso’s revenues than from a widely shared perception that the state represented a collective achievement worth defending.

By reducing Puntland to a strategic port city, the challengers underestimated the depth of political identification that had already formed around the Puntland project. This miscalculation limited their ability to mobilize sustained support beyond narrow constituencies and rendered their military gains politically hollow.

4. The Second Strategic Miscalculation: Clan Reductionism and the Loss of Political Vision

More consequential than the first error was the interpretation of the conflict as an intra-clan struggle within the Mohamud Saleimaan lineage. This framing ignored the reality that Puntland’s legitimacy rested on a broader inter-clan compact encompassing multiple Darood communities across Bari, Nugaal, Mudug, Sanaag, and Sool.

Clan identity has always been a central axis of Somali politics, but successful political projects are those that transcend lineage arithmetic by institutionalizing collective interests (Hoehne 2006). By approaching the confrontation as a sub-clan dispute, Jama Ali Jama and General Adde Muse Hersi failed to recognize that many actors—regardless of internal disagreements—perceived the challenge as a threat to the very survival of Puntland State.

This misreading produced strategic isolation. Rather than fracturing Puntland along clan lines, the confrontation consolidated a defensive coalition around the incumbent administration, reinforcing the notion that the state itself, not any single leader, was under siege.

5. Outcomes and Costs

The failure of these strategic assumptions had lasting consequences. Politically, the challengers were marginalized; militarily, their efforts were contained; institutionally, Puntland emerged more centralized and security-conscious than before. The costs, however, extended beyond individual careers. The confrontation deepened mistrust, militarized politics, and delayed institutional consolidation during a critical formative period.

At the same time, the episode demonstrated a crucial insight: even in its infancy, Puntland possessed a form of political resilience rooted in collective legitimacy rather than coercive dominance alone. This resilience helps explain Puntland’s relative durability compared to other post-1991 Somali administrations.

6. Discussion: Lessons for Somali Federalism

The 2000–2001 Puntland crisis offers enduring lessons for Somali federalism. First, economic assets—ports, airports, and revenue nodes—cannot substitute for political legitimacy grounded in inclusive governance. Second, reducing political conflicts to clan binaries obscures broader social compacts and often backfires strategically. Finally, early-state survival in fragmented societies depends less on individual leaders than on shared narratives of collective ownership.

These lessons remain relevant as Somalia continues to grapple with contested federal authority, resource disputes, and center–periphery tensions. The Puntland case underscores that even fragile political orders can endure when perceived as legitimate and collectively owned.

7. Conclusion

Remembering Jama Ali Jama and General Adde Muse Hersi requires neither hagiography nor erasure. They were political actors shaped by an extraordinarily volatile moment, making consequential decisions under immense pressure. Their strategic miscalculations during the 2000–2001 confrontation illuminate, rather than diminish, the structural realities of Puntland’s early statehood.

Ultimately, this episode affirms a central proposition: a state cannot be held by a port alone, nor reduced to clan arithmetic. Legitimacy, once forged through collective struggle, becomes a durable force—one that can outlast both ambition and error. Reflecting honestly on this history is not an act of condemnation, but a necessary step toward a more stable and just Somali political future.

Policy Implications and Recommendations

1. Ports Are Strategic Assets, Not Sovereign Substitutes. Federal and state actors should avoid equating control of economic nodes (ports, airports, customs) with political authority. Sustainable governance requires legitimacy grounded in inclusive political compacts.

2. Reject Clan Reductionism in State Conflicts. Policymakers must resist framing federal or state disputes as sub-clan rivalries; such narratives obscure broader political settlements and escalate conflict.

3. Protect Foundational Political Compacts. Early-state agreements—such as Puntland’s 1998 covenant—should be treated as constitutional assets deserving protection during leadership disputes.

4. Institutionalize Conflict Resolution Mechanisms. Somalia’s federal system requires non-militarized arbitration mechanisms for constitutional and electoral disputes to prevent recurrence of armed confrontations.

5. Leverage Historical Memory as Policy Guidance. Somali political actors and international partners should integrate historical case studies into governance reform strategies rather than treating each crisis as unprecedented.

Bibliography

Menkhaus, Ken. Somalia: State Collapse and the Threat of Terrorism. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004.

Lewis, Ioan M. A Modern History of the Somali: Nation and State in the Horn of Africa. 4th ed. Oxford: James Currey, 2002.

Samatar, Abdi Ismail. “Puntland and the Crisis of Somali Federalism.” Bildhaan 1 (2001): 54–67.

Hoehne, Markus. “Political Identity, Emerging State Structures and Conflict in Northern Somalia.” Journal of Modern African Studies 44, no. 3 (2006): 397–414.

de Waal, Alex. “The Politics of Destabilisation in the Horn of Africa.” Global Dialogue 5, no. 1–2 (2003): 1–12.

Warsame, Ismail H. Talking Truth to Power: Essays on Somali Governance, Federalism, and State Collapse. Nairobi: Warsame Digital Media, 2019.

Warsame, Ismail H. “Statehood, Ports, and Political Legitimacy in Puntland.” Warsame Digital Media (WDM), n.d.

Warsame, Ismail H. “Puntland at the Crossroads: Founding Ideals and Political Fragmentation.” Warsame Digital Media (WDM), n.d.

Warsame Digital Media (WDM). “Puntland’s Founding Moment and the 2000–2001 Internal Confrontation.” Editorial series, n.d.

In Remembrance and Condolence

With profound sorrow and solemn reflection, we extend our heartfelt condolences on the passing of Jama Ali Jama and General Adde Muse Hersi. Their lives were intertwined with the early, turbulent birth of Puntland State—a chapter of history into which their names are indelibly etched. May Allah in His infinite mercy grant them peace, forgive their shortcomings, and bestow patience and strength upon their families, friends, comrades, and all who mourn them.

They lived and led during one of the most fragile periods in modern Somali history—a time when Puntland was in its first breath, its institutions mere sketches, and political disputes too often descended into armed confrontation. In such volatility, decisions were forged under immense pressure, shaped by a confluence of fear, ambition, miscalculation, and the heavy burden of legacy.

History records that during the military confrontation of 2000–2001, both men committed grave strategic and political misjudgments.

The First Error: A Misplaced Equation
They operated under the belief that control of Bosaso—the vital port on the Gulf of Aden—equated to control of Puntland itself.This view tragically reduced the nascent state to a mere geographic and economic prize. In reality, Puntland was not just a port or a revenue stream. It was—and remains—a political project, a collective will, and an emerging state sustained by shared sacrifice and a legitimacy that transcends territory.

The Second, Deeper Error: A Failure of Vision
They interpreted the conflict through a dangerously narrow lens—as an intra-clan struggle within the Mohamud Saleimaan.This perspective blinded them to a fundamental truth: Puntland represented a historic covenant among the eastern and northeastern Darood clans, a union forged to defend a new political order against the tides of fragmentation. In missing this, they overlooked the broad-based social and political consensus that had already crystallized around Puntland’s survival and sovereignty.

The cost of these errors was high, paid not only in their personal destinies but in the stability and cohesion of that fragile moment.

Yet, to remember is not to simplify. History renders no leader as purely angel or demon. Each is a product of their time, navigating imperfect choices under the weight of impossible circumstances.

As we honor their memory, let us do so with humility and historical honesty. May their story serve as an enduring lesson: that a state cannot be held by a port alone; that legitimacy is never merely clan arithmetic; and that unity, born of collective struggle, becomes a force not easily broken.

May Allah grant Jama Ali Jama and General Adde Muse Hersi His utmost mercy and eternal rest. And may Somalia, through reflection on its painful past, continue to walk the path toward a more peaceful and just future.

Further reading:

THE LATE ADVOCATE YUSUF HAJI  NUR

HOW PUNTLAND DESTABILIZATION STARTED IN 2000-2001

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Bibliography

1. Ken Menkhaus, Somalia: State Collapse and the Threat of Terrorism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 47–69.

2. Ioan M. Lewis, A Modern History of the Somali: Nation and State in the Horn of Africa, 4th ed. (Oxford: James Currey, 2002), 285–292.

3. Ismail H. Warsame, Talking Truth to Power: Essays on Somali Governance, Federalism, and State Collapse (Nairobi: Warsame Digital Media, 2019), 112–126.

4. Abdi Ismail Samatar, “Puntland and the Crisis of Somali Federalism,” Bildhaan 1 (2001): 54–67.

5. Ismail H. Warsame, “Statehood, Ports, and Political Legitimacy in Puntland,” Warsame Digital Media (WDM), n.d., https://ismailwarsame.wordpress.com/.

6. Markus Hoehne, “Political Identity, Emerging State Structures and Conflict in Northern Somalia,” Journal of Modern African Studies 44, no. 3 (2006): 397–414.

7. Warsame Digital Media (WDM), “Puntland’s Founding Moment and the 2000–2001 Internal Confrontation,” editorial series, n.d.

8. Alex de Waal, “The Politics of Destabilisation in the Horn of Africa,” Global Dialogue 5, no. 1–2 (2003): 1–12.

9. Ismail H. Warsame, “Puntland at the Crossroads: Founding Ideals and Political Fragmentation,” Warsame Digital Media (WDM), n.d.

https://www.mprnews.org/episode/2025/12/11/economist-immigrants-contribute-26-billion-to-minnesotas-economy

ICE Agents Tackle, Pepper-Spray U.S. Citizens in Minneapolis; “Operation Metro Surge” Sparks Fear, Fury in Somali Community

MINNEAPOLIS, MN – Federal immigration agents are waging open war on American soil, violently detaining U.S. citizens, unleashing chemical weapons on crowds, and terrorizing a whole community under orders from the top.

This is not a border. This is Cedar-Riverside, Minneapolis. And this is the shocking reality of ICE’s “Operation Metro Surge.”

SHOVED TO THE PAVEMENT: “I’M A CITIZEN!”
On Tuesday, in a scene ripped from an authoritarian crackdown, ICE agents sprinted after a Somali-American man, tackled him to the ground, and slapped him in cuffs—all as he desperately shouted he was a U.S. citizen and shoved his ID in their faces.

They took him anyway. He was hauled to an ICE office, forcibly fingerprinted, and held until bureaucracy finally confirmed what he screamed on the street: He is an American. This is what “surge” looks like: the arrest of a citizen on a public sidewalk.

PEPPER SPRAY AND PANIC
Just one day earlier,on Monday, the same neighborhood choked on clouds of pepper spray. ICE agents, conducting ID checks, fired the chemical irritant directly at a crowd of protesters who dared to block their vehicles. No arrests. Just punishment by aerosol.

The message is clear: comply or burn.

THE SURGE IS HERE
The violence flows directly from Washington.On December 4th, ICE proudly announced “Operation Metro Surge,” a dragnet targeting “criminal illegal aliens.” But the first week’s carnage tells a different story: citizens detained, crowds gassed, and a community paralyzed by fear.

People now carry passports to go to the grocery store. Businesses are empty. In a stunning act of solidarity, Latino shops are now offering free delivery to Somalis too afraid to leave their homes.

TRUMP: “TERMINATE” AND “GARBAGE”
The fuel on this fire?President Donald Trump. He has labeled Somali immigrants “garbage” and officially terminated their Temporary Protected Status (TPS), signing a death warrant for thousands. The rhetoric from the top has given agents the green light for chaos on the ground.

LOCAL GOVERNMENTS FIGHT BACK
While federal agents raid,local leaders are rebelling. Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey has banned the use of city property to stage these raids. The St. Paul City Council is demanding an investigation after its own police force fired pepper balls and chemical irritants at protesters last month.

But it may be too little, too late. The rule book has been shredded. The surge is on.

COMMUNITY UNDER SIEGE
“The fear is everywhere,”a community leader told WAPMEN, voice trembling. “We are hunting for groceries, not freedom, in the land of the free.” The Minnesota chapter of the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR-MN) has formed an emergency task force, urging anyone confronted by ICE to call 612-206-3360 immediately.

This is a developing story. WAPMEN is  monitoring the situation on the ground. Stay with us.

#MetroSurge #SomaliCommunity #ICERaids #BreakingNews.

Democracy

Kala Saar Maamul Dawladeed, Dhaqanka iyo Diinta

https://www.facebook.com/share/v/1DPLtchzST/

[Courtesy: Facebook].

[Courtesy]

[Courtesy].

Donald J. Trump has many political talents, but foresight is not one of them. In singling out Somali-Americans — a community that has clawed its way through war, exile, oceans, and the grinding machinery of American bureaucracy — he has cracked open a Pandora’s box that will not close again. And inside that box is something Trump never anticipated: a fearless, unbreakable Somali fighting spirit sharpened over centuries, and a rapid, organized American response that has turned his attack into a strategic blunder.

Trump thought he could unleash the megaphone of the White House against one of America’s most resilient immigrant communities. In a Cabinet meeting, he declared of Somalis, “I don’t want them in our country” and stated the U.S. would “go the wrong way if we keep taking in garbage”. He assumed Somali-Americans would cower, scatter, fold under the weight of a presidential assault and the immediate launch of “Operation Metro Surge,” an Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) action in the Minneapolis-St. Paul area. He assumed wrong.

The Somali Spirit Meets the MAGA Machine

Trump’s political survival has often depended on targeting immigrants and Muslims. This time, he miscalculated. Somali-Americans are not a silent community. They are not powerless guests. They are Americans: of the roughly 84,000 to 98,000 Somali-Americans in Minnesota, the vast majority—estimated at 83% nationally—are naturalized U.S. citizens or legal permanent residents.

They are business owners, state legislators, city council members, and a U.S. Representative. Their defiance was immediate. “I am not garbage. I’m a proud American citizen,” said Hamse Warfa, a Somali-born entrepreneur in Minneapolis. This sentiment echoes from a community that understands a painful truth: when the president puts a “bull’s eye” on you, it encourages others to become “more radicalized”. The fear is real—businesses in cultural hubs like Karmel Mall closed, medical appointments were canceled, and people were afraid to leave home. Minneapolis City Council member Jamal Osman, a naturalized citizen, advised constituents to carry their passports, drawing a stark historical parallel.

Yet, the community’s response has been one of disciplined mobilization, not retreat. Organizations scheduled “legal observer training,” established emergency hotlines, and created private networks to share photos of unmarked cars and masked agents. As one community leader put it, “Is there fear? Absolutely. But no one is tucking behind their tail”.

America Responds — And Trump Hates It

Across the United States — and notably throughout Minnesota — Americans of every color and political stripe are rejecting Trump’s attempt to isolate the Somali community.

Political Leadership:

· Governor Tim Walz (D): Called Trump’s statements “vile, racist lies,” and declared that anyone unable to condemn them is “complicit”.
· Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey (D): Stood with the community, prompting Trump to dismiss him as a “fool”.
· Minneapolis Police Chief Brian O’Hara: Attended interfaith prayer services and, citing concerns over impersonators, told residents to call 911 if unsure about individuals claiming to be federal agents.

Trump wanted a wedge issue; instead he has triggered a coalition. He wanted fear; instead he has ignited a resolve to protect neighbors. He wanted to intimidate; instead he has exposed his own playbook. As Lt. Gov. Peggy Flanagan stated, this operation is about “striking fear into the hearts of Minnesotans” to distract from a failed record.

Pandora’s Box Is Now Wide Open

Trump doesn’t understand Somalis. A people whose kin in Mogadishu run a city’s only free ambulance service, operate the nation’s first rape crisis center, and build new businesses amid insecurity will not collapse because one man with a bullhorn shouts insults. The diaspora thrives everywhere it lands. Trump imagined he was attacking a small, vulnerable minority. In reality, he struck a transnational community with a generational memory of survival.

He has awakened a political force he cannot control, as seen in the swift launch of initiatives like a campaign for a Somali Heritage Month.
He has energized a voting bloc he cannot suppress—citizens who are now more politically organized than ever.
He has provoked a cultural pride he cannot silence, echoing from Minnesota to Galkayo, where citizens push back by highlighting their resilience and contributions.

Somalis do not fight small fights. And when they fight, they do not lose.

Trump’s Worst Strategic Mistake

In trying to humiliate Somali-Americans, Trump has humiliated himself. In trying to bully them into silence, he has made them louder and more organized. In trying to single them out, he has fused them into a political force and rallied Americans behind them.

His instinct to vilify, honed on other immigrant groups, has this time detonated in his hands. He has united Somalis and their allies in common cause, transforming a moment of fear into a catalyst for powerful, structured defense and advocacy.

Watch What Happens Next

If Trump thinks he can win elections by targeting Somali-Americans, he is about to receive a political lesson in Somali resilience.

For every insult he throws, Somali-Americans become more organized, expanding legal networks and community watches.
For every threat he makes,they become more mobilized, asserting their American identity with defiant pride.
For every policy he weaponizes,they become more entrenched in the American fabric than he ever imagined.

Trump opened the Somali Pandora’s Box. Inside was not the chaos he sought, but the formidable spirit of a community that has overcome hell, and the solidarity of a nation that remembers its ideals. He will not like what comes out of it.

Watch this space. The Somali spirit is awake — and it does not sleep again.

WAPMEN Editorial Board

By MARK FINEMAN

Jan. 18, 1993 12 AM PT

TIMES STAFF WRITER

MOGADISHU, Somalia — Far beneath the surface of the tragic drama of Somalia, four major U.S. oil companies are quietly sitting on a prospective fortune in exclusive concessions to explore and exploit tens of millions of acres of the Somali countryside.

That land, in the opinion of geologists and industry sources, could yield significant amounts of oil and natural gas if the U.S.-led military mission can restore peace to the impoverished East African nation.

According to documents obtained by The Times, nearly two-thirds of Somalia was allocated to the American oil giants Conoco, Amoco, Chevron and Phillips in the final years before Somalia’s pro-U.S. President Mohamed Siad Barre was overthrown and the nation plunged into chaos in January, 1991. Industry sources said the companies holding the rights to the most promising concessions are hoping that the Bush Administration’s decision to send U.S. troops to safeguard aid shipments to Somalia will also help protect their multimillion-dollar investments there.

Officially, the Administration and the State Department insist that the U.S. military mission in Somalia is strictly humanitarian. Oil industry spokesmen dismissed as “absurd” and “nonsense” allegations by aid experts, veteran East Africa analysts and several prominent Somalis that President Bush, a former Texas oilman, was moved to act in Somalia, at least in part, by the U.S. corporate oil stake.

But corporate and scientific documents disclosed that the American companies are well positioned to pursue Somalia’s most promising potential oil reserves the moment the nation is pacified. And the State Department and U.S. military officials acknowledge that one of those oil companies has done more than simply sit back and hope for peace.

Conoco Inc., the only major multinational corporation to maintain a functioning office in Mogadishu throughout the past two years of nationwide anarchy, has been directly involved in the U.S. government’s role in the U.N.-sponsored humanitarian military effort.

Conoco, whose tireless exploration efforts in north-central Somalia reportedly had yielded the most encouraging prospects just before Siad Barre’s fall, permitted its Mogadishu corporate compound to be transformed into a de facto American embassy a few days before the U.S. Marines landed in the capital, with Bush’s special envoy using it as his temporary headquarters. In addition, the president of the company’s subsidiary in Somalia won high official praise for serving as the government’s volunteer “facilitator” during the months before and during the U.S. intervention.

Describing the arrangement as “a business relationship,” an official spokesman for the Houston-based parent corporation of Conoco Somalia Ltd. said the U.S. government was paying rental for its use of the compound, and he insisted that Conoco was proud of resident general manager Raymond Marchand’s contribution to the U.S.-led humanitarian effort.

John Geybauer, spokesman for Conoco Oil in Houston, said the company was acting as “a good corporate citizen and neighbor” in granting the U.S. government’s request to be allowed to rent the compound. The U.S. Embassy and most other buildings and residential compounds here in the capital were rendered unusable by vandalism and fierce artillery duels during the clan wars that have consumed Somalia and starved its people.

In its in-house magazine last month, Conoco reprinted excerpts from a letter of commendation for Marchand written by U.S. Marine Brig. Gen. Frank Libutti, who has been acting as military aide to U.S. envoy Robert B. Oakley. In the letter, Libutti praised the oil official for his role in the initial operation to land Marines on Mogadishu’s beaches in December, and the general concluded, “Without Raymond’s courageous contributions and selfless service, the operation would have failed.”

But the close relationship between Conoco and the U.S. intervention force has left many Somalis and foreign development experts deeply troubled by the blurry line between the U.S. government and the large oil company, leading many to liken the Somalia operation to a miniature version of Operation Desert Storm, the U.S.-led military effort in January, 1991, to drive Iraq from Kuwait and, more broadly, safeguard the world’s largest oil reserves.

“They sent all the wrong signals when Oakley moved into the Conoco compound,” said one expert on Somalia who worked with one of the four major companies as they intensified their exploration efforts in the country in the late 1980s.

“It’s left everyone thinking the big question here isn’t famine relief but oil–whether the oil concessions granted under Siad Barre will be transferred if and when peace is restored,” the expert said. “It’s potentially worth billions of dollars, and believe me, that’s what the whole game is starting to look like.”

Although most oil experts outside Somalia laugh at the suggestion that the nation ever could rank among the world’s major oil producers–and most maintain that the international aid mission is intended simply to feed Somalia’s starving masses–no one doubts that there is oil in Somalia. The only question: How much?

“It’s there. There’s no doubt there’s oil there,” said Thomas E. O’Connor, the principal petroleum engineer for the World Bank, who headed an in-depth, three-year study of oil prospects in the Gulf of Aden off Somalia’s northern coast.

“You don’t know until you study a lot further just how much is there,” O’Connor said. “But it has commercial potential. It’s got high potential . . . once the Somalis get their act together.”

O’Connor, a professional geologist, based his conclusion on the findings of some of the world’s top petroleum geologists. In a 1991 World Bank-coordinated study, intended to encourage private investment in the petroleum potential of eight African nations, the geologists put Somalia and Sudan at the top of the list of prospective commercial oil producers.

Presenting their results during a three-day conference in London in September, 1991, two of those geologists, an American and an Egyptian, reported that an analysis of nine exploratory wells drilled in Somalia indicated that the region is “situated within the oil window, and thus (is) highly prospective for gas and oil.” A report by a third geologist, Z. R. Beydoun, said offshore sites possess “the geological parameters conducive to the generation, expulsion and trapping of significant amounts of oil and gas.”

Beydoun, who now works for Marathon Oil in London, cautioned in a recent interview that on the basis of his findings alone, “you cannot say there definitely is oil,” but he added: “The different ingredients for generation of oil are there. The question is whether the oil generated there has been trapped or whether it dispersed or evaporated.”

Beginning in 1986, Conoco, along with Amoco, Chevron, Phillips and, briefly, Shell all sought and obtained exploration licenses for northern Somalia from Siad Barre’s government. Somalia was soon carved up into concessional blocs, with Conoco, Amoco and Chevron winning the right to explore and exploit the most promising ones.

The companies’ interest in Somalia clearly predated the World Bank study. It was grounded in the findings of another, highly successful exploration effort by the Texas-based Hunt Oil Corp. across the Gulf of Aden in the Arabian Peninsula nation of Yemen, where geologists disclosed in the mid-1980s that the estimated 1 billion barrels of Yemeni oil reserves were part of a great underground rift, or valley, that arced into and across northern Somalia.

Hunt’s Yemeni operation, which is now yielding nearly 200,000 barrels of oil a day, and its implications for the entire region were not lost on then-Vice President George Bush.

In fact, Bush witnessed it firsthand in April, 1986, when he officially dedicated Hunt’s new $18-million refinery near the ancient Yemeni town of Marib. In remarks during the event, Bush emphasized the critical value of supporting U.S. corporate efforts to develop and safeguard potential oil reserves in the region.

In his speech, Bush stressed “the growing strategic importance to the West of developing crude oil sources in the region away from the Strait of Hormuz,” according to a report three weeks later in the authoritative Middle East Economic Survey.

Bush’s reference was to the geographical choke point that controls access to the Persian Gulf and its vast oil reserves. It came at the end of a 10-day Middle East tour in which the vice president drew fire for appearing to advocate higher oil and gasoline prices.

“Throughout the course of his 17,000-mile trip, Bush suggested continued low (oil) prices would jeopardize a domestic oil industry ‘vital to the national security interests of the United States,’ which was interpreted at home and abroad as a sign the onetime oil driller from Texas was coming to the aid of his former associates,” United Press International reported from Washington the day after Bush dedicated Hunt’s Yemen refinery.

No such criticism accompanied Bush’s decision late last year to send more than 20,000 U.S. troops to Somalia, widely applauded as a bold and costly step to save an estimated 2 million Somalis from starvation by opening up relief supply lines and pacifying the famine-struck nation.

But since the U.S. intervention began, neither the Bush Administration nor any of the oil companies that had been active in Somalia up until the civil war broke out in early 1991 have commented publicly on Somalia’s potential for oil and natural gas production. Even in private, veteran oil company exploration experts played down any possible connection between the Administration’s move into Somalia and the corporate concessions at stake.

“In the oil world, Somalia is a fringe exploration area,” said one Conoco executive who asked not to be named. “They’ve overexaggerated it,” he said of the geologists’ optimism about the prospective oil reserves there. And as for Washington’s motives in Somalia, he brushed aside criticisms that have been voiced quietly in Mogadishu, saying, “With America, there is a genuine humanitarian streak in us . . . that many other countries and cultures cannot understand.”

But the same source added that Conoco’s decision to maintain its headquarters in the Somali capital even after it pulled out the last of its major equipment in the spring of 1992 was certainly not a humanitarian one. And he confirmed that the company, which has explored Somalia in three major phases beginning in 1952, had achieved “very good oil shows”–industry terminology for an exploration phase that often precedes a major discovery–just before the war broke out.

“We had these very good shows,” he said. “We were pleased. That’s why Conoco stayed on. . . . The people in Houston are convinced there’s oil there.”

Indeed, the same Conoco World article that praised Conoco’s general manager in Somalia for his role in the humanitarian effort quoted Marchand as saying, “We stayed because of Somalia’s potential for the company and to protect our assets.”

Marchand, a French citizen who came to Somalia from Chad after a civil war forced Conoco to suspend operations there, explained the role played by his firm in helping set up the U.S.-led pacification mission in Mogadishu.

“When the State Department asked Conoco management for assistance, I was glad to use the company’s influence in Somalia for the success of this mission,” he said in the magazine article. “I just treated it like a company operation–like moving a rig. I did it for this operation because the (U.S.) officials weren’t familiar with the environment.”

Marchand and his company were clearly familiar with the anarchy into which Somalia has descended over the past two years–a nation with no functioning government, no utilities and few roads, a place ruled loosely by regional warlords.

Of the four U.S. companies holding the Siad Barre-era oil concessions, Conoco is believed to be the only one that negotiated what spokesman Geybauer called “a standstill agreement” with an interim government set up by one of Mogadishu’s two principal warlords, Ali Mahdi Mohamed. Industry sources said the other U.S. companies with contracts in Somalia cited “ force majeure “ (superior power), a legal term asserting that they were forced by the war to abandon their exploration efforts and would return as soon as peace is restored.

“It’s going to be very interesting to see whether these agreements are still good,” said Mohamed Jirdeh, a prominent Somali businessman in Mogadishu who is familiar with the oil-concession agreements. “Whatever Siad did, all those records and contracts, all disappeared after he fled. . . . And this period has brought with it a deep change of our society.

“Our country is now very weak, and, of course, the American oil companies are very strong. This has to be handled very diplomatically, and I think the American government must move out of the oil business, or at least make clear that there is a definite line separating the two, if they want to maintain a long-term relationship here.”

Fineman, Times bureau chief in Nicosia, Cyprus, was recently in Somalia.

[Courtesy: Los Angeles Times].

The dream of a stable, unified Somalia, rebuilt upon a federal framework, has long been the central pillar of the nation’s post-conflict political order. Yet, beneath the official rhetoric of shared governance and equitable power distribution, a persistent and contentious reality simmers: the profound unevenness in federal employment across the Federal Member States (FMS). While comprehensive, verifiable statistics from sources like the World Bank remain elusive in the public domain, the political discourse in Somalia is saturated with allegations of severe regional imbalance. Critics, particularly from opposition-aligned states like Puntland and Jubaland, contend that the federal civil service is overwhelmingly dominated by employees from Mogadishu and its immediate environs, notably the Hirshabelle state. This perceived inequity is not a mere administrative grievance; it is a live wire electrifying Somalia’s most profound political crises, serving as both a symptom and a cause of the failing federal compact.

The argument, as advanced by voices such as Ismail Warsame, a former Puntland official and vocal commentator, posits a stark disparity. It suggests that a vast majority—potentially up to 65%—of federal positions are filled by individuals from the Mogadishu-Hirshabelle axis, with states like Puntland purportedly holding less than 2.5%. Whether these exact figures are accurate is less critical than the pervasive belief in their truth, a belief that fuels deep-seated resentment. This perception transforms the civil service from a national institution into an instrument of patronage, where jobs are rewards for political loyalty rather than merit-based appointments to serve all Somali people. For states on the periphery, this translates to a tangible exclusion from the economic benefits and decision-making influence of the central government, entrenching a feeling of second-class status within the very union they are meant to co-own.

This imbalance in federal employment is inextricably linked to the broader, more explosive conflicts over political autonomy and constitutional power. The uneven share of jobs is viewed as the human manifestation of a centralizing state, an accusation consistently leveled at the administration of President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud. The current crisis with Jubaland provides a textbook example. When Jubaland proceeded with its own regional election in late 2024, re-electing President Ahmed Madobe against the wishes of Mogadishu, the Federal Government declared the process unconstitutional. This political dispute rapidly escalated into military confrontation in the Ras Kamboni area. From Jubaland’s perspective, Mogadishu’s attempt to invalidate its election is of a piece with its refusal to share federal resources and jobs equitably—both are seen as assaults on the core principles of federalism, designed to subordinate the state to the capital’s will.

Similarly, Puntland, often described as the federation’s most stable and functional polity, has positioned itself as the lead critic of Mogadishu’s centralizing tendencies. Its leadership frames the inequity in federal representation as evidence of a “creeping dictatorship” and has formed a potent opposition coalition with Jubaland. For Puntland and Jubaland, the uneven employment landscape proves that the federal government prioritizes control over collaboration, rendering the constitutional promise of a voluntary union of equal states a hollow one.

Conversely, states perceived to be in closer alignment with Mogadishu, such as Galmudug and the Southwest State, are often characterized in opposition discourse as existing in the “shadows” of the capital. The allegation is that their relative political compliance is reciprocated with a greater share of federal patronage, including jobs, further distorting the national distribution. This dynamic creates a self-reinforcing cycle: closer alignment brings more federal resources to local elites, which strengthens their position, ensuring continued support for Mogadishu, thereby perpetuating the imbalance.

The consequences of this dysfunction are severe and extend far beyond political squabbling. A federal civil service perceived as illegitimate and exclusionary lacks the broad-based credibility to effectively implement national policy. This administrative weakness directly undermines the most critical national struggle: the fight against Al-Shabab. Military offensives require cohesive political and logistical support; a federal government distrusted by major component states cannot marshal a unified front. Reports of Al-Shabab making gains in regions like Hirshabelle in early 2025 occur against this backdrop of profound federal fragmentation, where security strategy is hampered by political distrust.

Ultimately, the debate over the uneven share of federal employees is a debate about the soul of Somali federalism. Is it a genuine pact for sharing power and building a common future, or is it a vehicle for the reconcentration of authority in Mogadishu? The palpable anger from Puntland and Jubaland, manifesting in opposition alliances and even armed clashes, suggests that for them, the current system is failing the basic test of equity. The Provisional Constitution’s vagueness on critical details of resource and power-sharing has created a vacuum filled by political conflict. Until a transparent, verifiable, and equitable framework for federal representation—in both the civil service and political institutions—is agreed upon and implemented, the Somali federation will remain an imperfect and unstable union. The equitable distribution of jobs is not just an administrative task; it is a fundamental prerequisite for building the trust necessary to hold a fragile nation together.

A WAPMEN Editorial — Speaking Truth to Power, Without Fear or Favour

There are moments when a nation’s leadership is tested not by its enemies, but by its own choices. The bloodshed in Borama is one such moment—a direct, preventable crisis born from a failure to listen.

It was not an accident.
It was not a mere“security incident.”
It was thedirect result of a political decision—the plan to host the divisive “Issa Law” ceremony in Zeila—that lit a match in Awdal. The government’s response, using live ammunition against its own civilians, leaving at least 17 dead, is a catastrophic failure of governance written in fire and denial.

But if you thought Somaliland learned anything from the Goojacadde catastrophe—
If you thought leaders in Hargeisa had re-examined their instinct to impose rather than consult—
If you thought the military defeat in Sool had spurred political wisdom—
The Borama massacre proves you wrong. Spectacularly wrong.

Goojacadde: A Lesson in Military and Political Defeat, Thoroughly Ignored

For two decades, Somaliland has sold a global narrative of “democracy” and “stability.” Yet in Sool, it exercised coercive power over a community that did not consent to its rule. The result was not stability, but a popular armed uprising that culminated in the strategic and humiliating loss of the Goojacadde military base in August 2023. Soldiers were captured, equipment was lost, and territory was reclaimed by SSC-Khatumo forces with the help of the so-called “Hiil Walaal”.

Goojacadde was a lesson shouted by history: there is no durable control without the consent of the governed.

Yet, Somaliland’s leadership treated it as a military mishap, not the symptom of a deep political illness—the arrogance of imposing will from Hargeisa.

Borama: The Same Disease, A Different Eruption

Borama is not Sool. It is not Las Anod. It is the city of the 1993 Grand Conference, a foundational pillar of Somaliland’s very project. Here, the crisis was triggered not by years of warfare, but by a single, tone-deaf political maneuver—a law perceived as a territorial threat, unveiled in a region that saw it as a betrayal.

The pattern, however, is lethally familiar: Break trust → impose a decision → meet dissent with lethal force → blame the victims.

Once again:

· Civic outrage was met with a state bullet.
· Youth demanding accountability were treated as enemies.
· The government’s delayed reversal came only after the streets were stained with blood.

This is not governance. This is political self-sabotage on repeat—proving that the disease which infected policy in Sool is now metastasizing at home.

The Crumbling Myth of “The Somaliland Model“

Somaliland’s ruling elite operates on a fatal miscalculation: that suppressing grievances creates unity. In reality, it transforms loyal citizens into resistors and turns political disputes into existential crises.

The “Somaliland model” is cracking because its foundation—earned consent—is being eroded. Awdal has its own history and civic culture, but it shares with Sool the experience of being ignored, provoked, and then attacked when it speaks.

Goojacadde taught that you cannot bomb a people into loyalty. Borama now teaches that you cannot shoot your citizens into silence.

A Final Warning, Written in Blood

Sool was not lost because of clan politics. It was lost because of political arrogance and contempt for local will. Borama is not yet lost, but it is wounded—by the very government that claims to protect it.

The lesson is no longer subtle. It is screaming from the battlefields of Sool and the streets of Borama: A government that rules by imposition and fear is building its house on sand.

There is still time—to truly reform, to genuinely reconcile, to replace the barrel of a gun with the humility of dialogue. But if the same instincts that led to Goojacadde and Borama prevail, then Somaliland must be ready to face the consequences: a stability that collapses from within, defeated by its own hand.

——–

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By WDM Staff Writer

Introduction: A Voice Forged in the Crucible of State-Building

In the vast and fractured landscape of Somali political literature, few voices combine historical memory, administrative experience, and moral clarity as compellingly as Ismail H. Warsame. His writings—ranging from autobiographical reflections to sharp political essays—exist at the intersection of lived governance and philosophical inquiry. They seek not merely to describe Somalia’s dilemmas, but to understand why state-building has repeatedly faltered and what ethical foundations are required to restore national coherence.

Warsame speaks with authority not because he observed Somalia’s political evolution from afar, but because he helped shape it. As the first Chief of State (Chief of Cabinet) of Puntland during its inception in 1998, he participated directly in one of Somalia’s most durable experiments in political reconstruction. His insights therefore emerge not from abstraction, but from the difficult negotiations, institutional improvisations, and ethical tests inherent in founding a state under conditions of national collapse.

This chapter synthesizes the central pillars of Warsame’s intellectual project:

1. Leadership ethics as the bedrock of governance

2. Federalism as a tool misapplied

3. Puntland as a living experiment in institutional resilience

4. Writing as an act of political service

Together, these themes form a coherent blueprint for understanding Somalia’s governance failures—and the path toward remedy.

1. Leadership Ethics: Rebuilding the Moral Economy of Power

Warsame’s thought begins with a fundamental assertion: Somalia’s crisis is not structural, but ethical. Constitutions can be rewritten, institutions can be funded, elections can be organized—but none will function in the absence of leaders who possess integrity, courage, and restraint.

1.1 Integrity as the Foundation of Political Judgment

Warsame’s formulation is characteristically direct:
“Leadership begins with personal integrity; without it, every decision becomes a negotiation of convenience.”

Integrity, for him, is not a private virtue but a public necessity. It is the internal compass that transforms authority into stewardship. Somali leaders, he argues, too often treat power as a prize rather than a responsibility—a worldview that erodes state legitimacy at its core.

1.2 Accountability as the Bridge Between Authority and Trust

Warsame identifies accountability as the litmus test of credible leadership:
“A leader who fears accountability is already unfit to lead.”

Accountability is not merely administrative; it is the currency of public trust. In its absence, institutions become hollow façades—performing statehood without embodying it.

1.3 The Clan Question: The Ethical Threshold

Clan identity is an unavoidable part of Somali political life, but Warsame argues it must not dominate leadership:
“A leader who cannot rise above clan interests cannot rise to national responsibility.”

This is perhaps his most challenging contribution. He neither romanticizes clan structures nor demonizes them; instead, he frames them as ethical obstacles leaders must consciously transcend.

Warsame’s insistence on ethical leadership is not idealistic—it is profoundly pragmatic. No reform can succeed unless it is underpinned by a moral transformation of political behavior.

2. Somali Federalism: Promise Misunderstood, Practice Misapplied

Somalia’s federal experiment is one of the most contested political projects in East Africa. Warsame approaches it with realism: federalism is not inherently flawed; it is merely poorly interpreted.

2.1 Federalism in Theory: Decentralization as a Safeguard

Properly implemented, federalism aims to:

distribute power

strengthen local governance

reduce center-periphery tensions

balance autonomy with unity

Warsame acknowledges these virtues but stresses that they require institutional discipline and clarity—both lacking in Somalia’s political culture.

2.2 Federalism in Practice: A Distorted Application

Warsame identifies several structural distortions:

Clan-based state formation, which undermines administrative logic

Constitutional ambiguity, fueling perpetual disputes

Resource competition, transforming federalism into economic warfare

Weak national institutions, unable to mediate intergovernmental tension

His conclusion is incisive:
“Federalism is not a magic formula. It is a tool—and tools are only as good as the hands that use them.”

2.3 The Ethical Prerequisite of Federalism

For federalism to stabilize Somalia, Warsame argues, it must be grounded in:

political maturity

respect for constitutional boundaries

leaders committed to compromise

institutions shielded from clan capture

Without these ethical commitments, federalism becomes a mechanism for fragmentation rather than cohesion.

3. Puntland: A State Built in the Shadow of Collapse

No intellectual engagement with federal Somalia is complete without Puntland—the state Warsame helped construct and later critique.

3.1 Foundational Vision

Puntland emerged with three guiding ambitions:

1. Stability in the northeast

2. Institutional development capable of governing sustainably

3. A federal contribution to a future Somali republic

It was conceived not as a secessionist project but as a template for national reconstruction.

3.2 Achievements as Proof of Concept

Warsame highlights Puntland’s relative success:

functional security structures

a workable bureaucracy

regular political transitions

resilience against state collapse

These achievements demonstrate that institutional discipline—however imperfect—can emerge even in contexts of extreme fragility.

3.3 Risks and Drift from Founding Principles

Warsame is equally honest about Puntland’s vulnerabilities:

intensifying clan-political pressures

internal administrative fragmentation

disputes with Mogadishu

political personalization of power

He warns that Puntland’s durability is not guaranteed. States can drift into dysfunction when they forget the principles that created them.

3.4 Puntland as Federal Anchor

Warsame sees Puntland not as a perfect model but as a necessary one. Its success or failure will shape the trajectory of Somali federalism. It remains, in his view, the federation’s most important stabilizing actor—if it upholds its founding discipline.

4. Writing as Political Intervention

Warsame’s stylistic philosophy mirrors his political ethics: clarity, discipline, and purpose. His dictum—
“Write when you feel tired and hungry to kill verbosity and redundancy”
—reveals his rejection of inflated rhetoric in favor of precision.

4.1 The Nomadic Frame of Mind

His autobiographical book HAYAAN offers a portrait of a childhood shaped by:

movement

improvisation

environmental reading

community responsibility

These nomadic sensibilities permeate his political writing, giving it an instinctive awareness of shifting landscapes and emerging dangers.

4.2 Truth-Telling as Civic Duty

Warsame treats writing as an ethical commitment. His essays are interventions designed to reorient political discourse toward:

responsibility

integrity

institutional sobriety

He writes not for flattery but for correction. His truth-telling is a form of public service.

Conclusion: An Ethical Blueprint for a Broken State

Across his writings, Warsame articulates a coherent thesis: Somalia cannot rebuild its state without rebuilding its ethics.

Federalism, decentralization, and constitutional frameworks are necessary but insufficient. Without moral courage in leadership and disciplined governance, Somalia will continue to oscillate between crisis and paralysis.

Warsame’s work—rooted in experience, sharpened by reflection, and disciplined by nomadic pragmatism—offers one of the clearest intellectual pathways toward a functioning Somali state. It calls for nothing less than the reconstruction of Somalia’s political conscience.

In a political culture too familiar with cynicism, Warsame’s voice stands as a reminder that truth—courageously spoken—is the first act of state-building.

https://nordicmonitor.com/2025/12/turkish-intelligence-report-warns-somalias-fragility-as-ankara-boosts-military-and-economic-role/?s=09

Donald J. Trump—patron saint of grievance politics, high priest of paranoiac nationalism—has once again found a new enemy. This time, his target is Somali-Americans. In a December 2025 cabinet meeting, the former president declared immigrants from Somalia “garbage,” said they “come from hell” and “contribute nothing,” and vowed, “we don’t want them in our country.” [^1] For the Reality-TV Caesar who once mistook the U.S. Constitution for a hotel amenities menu, a tiny, hardworking, overachieving immigrant community is the latest existential threat to the mighty Republic.

And in doing so, he has—unknowingly, unwittingly, and quite foolishly—declared a “war” whose outcome is already written: Somali-Americans will defeat Donald Trump.

Let us be clear: Somalis do not fear political war. They fear boredom. They fear mediocre tea, slow Wi-Fi, and injustice. But a fight? That is where the cultural engine truly ignites. And what Trump has provoked isn’t a policy debate—it is something far more dangerous: a community of citizens that refuses to be erased.

The First Rule of This Fight: We Don’t Lose

Trump thinks he understands toughness. He thinks toughness is yelling into microphones, threatening teenagers on Twitter, and posing with Bibles he hasn’t opened. But the toughness of the Somali-American community is generational. It is forged in the crucible of global displacement and in the discipline of rebuilding lives from zero in places like Minnesota, home to an estimated 84,000 people of Somali descent. [^2]

They don’t lose. Not because they are invincible, but because defeat, after surviving so much, is simply unacceptable. The spirit of “guul ama geeri”—victory or death—is not just a slogan; it’s the fuel for a generation that is now American.

Trump, Meet Your Match: Citizens, Not “Others”

But here is the fatal flaw in Trump’s theatre of hate: those he attacks are Americans. The majority in Minnesota are U.S. citizens, either naturalized or born here. [^2] The constitutional document he treats as a personal diary protects them. This isn’t Somalia vs. America. It’s Somali-Americans vs. Donald Trump.

And guess what?
Somali-Americans have survived:

· Siyad Barre
· Civil war
· Displacement
· Being scapegoats for a massive pandemic aid fraud scandal in Minnesota [^3]
· And now, a president who calls their homeland “barely a country”

Do you honestly think they will be intimidated by a man who lost a fistfight with a staircase?

The Trump Doctrine: Harass Now, Lose Later

Trump’s rage is not policy—it is insecurity. The insecurity of a man who sees Rep. Ilhan Omar, a Somali-American refugee, wielding political power he cannot silence. It is the envy of a man who sees thousands of Somali-American doctors, nurses, and entrepreneurs building America in ways he never could.

It is the panic of a man who knows that every naturalized Somali-American voter is one more nail in the coffin of his political resurrection. So he lashes out with promises to end Temporary Protected Status and directives for ICE operations that even local mayors warn will violate citizens’ rights. [^4]

But harassment is a poor strategy when your opponents have mastered endurance, resilience, and the art of revenge through the ballot box.

America vs. Itself: A War Between Co-Owners

Trump imagines he is launching a war between the U.S. and an outsider group. He forgets the key detail: Somalis in America ARE America. They are no longer guests; they are co-owners. They vote. They organize. They hold office. They are shaping the future of states like Minnesota in ways Trump cannot stop, with a median age far younger than his golf handicap. [^2]

Why Somalis Will Win

This “war” will not end with tanks, but with ballots. Not with sanctions, but with civic participation. Here is why Somali-Americans will win:

1. They are citizens: They have the papers, the passports, and the permanent right to tell Trump to get lost.
2. They are unified: Clan politics dissolves when the opponent is a racist demagogue. Leaders from mosques to the state capitol are standing together. [^4]
3. They are organized: Every Somali home is a mini-parliament, and now those parliaments are focused on political defense.
4. They vote: And they have long, unforgiving memories.
5. They do not break: Not after everything. Certainly not because of a man whose entire brand is fraudulent strength.

Trump is picking a fight with a community whose survival instincts are sharper than his hairline.

The Final Warning

The outcome is inevitable: Somali-Americans will defeat Donald Trump—not with chaos, but with democracy, dignity, and demography.

The man who thinks he can intimidate immigrants is about to learn what happens when those immigrants are also voters, neighbors, and your fellow citizens. They hate to lose. Americans hate to lose. Somali-Americans combine both, multiplied by caffeine and generational ambition.

Watch out, Donald. This is a battle you already lost. The only thing left is for Somali-Americans to collect the victory.

WDM

References

[^1]: Trump’s derogatory comments about Somali immigrants were made during a December 2025 Cabinet meeting, as reported by multiple news outlets.

[^2]: Demographic and citizenship data on the Somali-American community in Minnesota is sourced from historical U.S. Census figures and academic estimates.

[^3]: The context of large-scale fraud cases in Minnesota involving some members of the Somali-American community is a noted part of the current political discourse.

[^4]: Responses from community leaders and politicians, including Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey, condemning ICE operations and rhetoric have been widely reported.

The Horn of Africa stands as one of the world’s most strategically vital and politically volatile regions. Its stability is fractured by interconnected crises: civil war in Sudan, an unresolved insurgency in Somalia, and most centrally, the existential dispute over the Nile River. Two recent articles—one by Egyptian Foreign Minister Badr Abdelatty and a rebuttal by Ethiopia’s Ambassador to Somalia, Suleiman Dedefo—provide a masterclass in how a core interstate conflict (Egypt vs. Ethiopia) metastasizes into a regional diplomatic war. This review applies a WDM (Conflict, Stakeholders, Balance of Evidence) framework to dissect these competing narratives, revealing a clash not over facts, but over their fundamental interpretation and the very principles of sovereignty, security, and survival.

I. The Core Conflict: Stability vs. Sovereignty

The conflict presented in the two texts is not a simple disagreement over policy but a foundational clash of strategic narratives.

· The Egyptian Narrative (Abdelatty): Egypt frames its renewed engagement as a necessary corrective to regional imbalance. The article constructs a narrative where the Horn, as an extension of Egypt’s national security, has fallen into instability due to “hegemonic tendencies” and “illegitimate” projects—clear references to Ethiopia. Egypt posits itself as the responsible actor returning after a period of neglect to “restore the strategic balance.” Its actions, notably the troop deployment to Somalia (AUSSOM), are framed as collective security contributions. The underlying, though unstated, premise is that Egyptian security, predicated on Nile water and Red Sea stability, is synonymous with regional order.
· The Ethiopian Narrative (Dedefo): Ethiopia’s rebuttal attacks the very premise of Egypt’s narrative, re-casting it as a thinly veiled strategy of encirclement and domination. Where Egypt sees “stability,” Ethiopia sees “hegemonic ambition.” The article systematically deconstructs Egypt’s claims: its “strategic balance” is a disguise, its peacekeeping deployment is a tactical move in a proxy rivalry, and its diplomacy is “the single most important factor that feeds instability.” Ethiopia frames its own quest for Red Sea access as a legitimate economic imperative, contrasting it with Egypt’s “alarmist rhetoric” designed to isolate Addis Ababa.

The fundamental conflict is thus between a status quo power (Egypt) seeking to manage a region it views as critical to its survival, and a rising power (Ethiopia) challenging historical arrangements to secure its own developmental future. This clash makes neutral ground virtually nonexistent.

II. Stakeholders and Their Stakes

The articles illuminate a complex web of regional actors, each with aligned or contested interests. The core perspectives and critical omissions are as follows:

· Egypt
  · Primary Interest (Per Article): Preserving Nile water flow, securing the Red Sea, and countering Ethiopian influence.
  · Underlying Motivation & Omitted Perspective: The article completely omits explicit mention of the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD), the source of Egypt’s existential hydrological anxiety. Its entire strategic re-engagement is fundamentally driven by the tangible threat of a mega-dam upstream controlling its primary water supply.
· Ethiopia
  · Primary Interest (Per Article): Securing economic development (via the GERD) and obtaining sovereign sea access while resisting “encirclement.”
  · Underlying Motivation & Omitted Perspective: While framing sea access as a historical right, the article downplays how its pursuit—such as the 2024 memorandum of understanding with Somaliland—is perceived by other nations as a threat to state sovereignty, fracturing the African Union’s principle of border inviolability.
· Somalia
  · Portrayal: Presented by Egypt as a partner in stability and by Ethiopia as a victim of Egyptian manipulation.
  · Underlying Reality: Caught between regional giants, Somalia’s government leverages external partnerships (with Egypt, Turkey, and others) to bolster its internal legitimacy and counter security threats, effectively making it a key battleground in the proxy rivalry.
· Eritrea, Djibouti, Sudan
  · Portrayal: Referenced in the Egyptian article as partners in a cooperative framework.
  · Underlying Reality: These states engage with Egypt to gain leverage, investment, or security assurances. Their primary interest, however, is in a balancing act to avoid domination by any single regional power, including Ethiopia.

III. Balance of Evidence and Omissions

A WDM analysis requires weighing the claims against available evidence and identifying critical omissions.

Egypt’s “Stabilizing Role” Claim:

· Evidence For: Egypt has historically been a major regional actor. Its deployment to AUSSOM is a tangible, pledged contribution to a multilateral mission. Its diplomatic outreach is documented.
· Evidence Against: Regional security experts widely interpret the AUSSOM deployment as a geopolitical move to gain a foothold near Ethiopia. Egypt’s deepened security ties with Ethiopia’s rivals (Eritrea, Somalia) objectively create a network of alliances that Addis Ababa would perceive as encirclement.
· Verdict: The claim is strategically instrumentalized. While the action is real, its primary motivation appears more directly linked to countering Ethiopian influence than to altruistic stabilization.

Ethiopia’s “Encirclement Strategy” Accusation:

· Evidence For: The geographical pattern of Egyptian engagement—Somalia (south), Eritrea (north), Sudan (west)—and its explicit opposition to Ethiopian sea access creates a logical strategic constraint.
· Evidence Against: Egypt’s engagements are bilateral and framed as mutually beneficial. The “encirclement” label implies a coordinated military strategy, for which public evidence is scant.
· Verdict: The accusation describes a logical strategic outcome rather than a proven military plan. Egypt’s actions, driven by the GERD dispute, naturally seek to constrain Ethiopia’s options, producing an effect Ethiopia accurately characterizes as encirclement.

The Critical Omission:
The most glaring omission inboth articles is a direct, substantive engagement with the GERD dispute. Abdelatty’s article never mentions it, yet it is the unspoken engine of every Egyptian action. Dedefo’s rebuttal dismisses Egyptian concerns as “alarmist rhetoric” without acknowledging the objective existential threat a downstream nation perceives from a unilateral water project. This mutual refusal to address the other’s core security dilemma is the clearest evidence that both articles are weapons of information warfare, not blueprints for dialogue.

Final Analysis:
In the WDM analysis, the balance of evidence shows that both narratives are internally coherent but externally partisan. Egypt legitimately seeks to protect vital interests but employs a strategy that exacerbates regional polarization. Ethiopia legitimately seeks development and access but pursues it through unilateral projects that neighbors see as destabilizing. The articles are mirror images: each portrays the other as the sole revisionist hegemon while presenting its own actions as defensive and legitimate. The true “balance” is a tragic equilibrium of mutual insecurity, where one state’s survival is perceived as the other’s stranglehold, making the Horn of Africa a cockpit for a conflict with no diplomatic off-ramp in sight. The essays don’t just report on a dispute; they are active artifacts of it.

From: Warsame Digital Media (WDM) and concerned citizens of the internet.

We write with grave alarm and urgent purpose. The government of the United States, under the leadership of President Donald J. Trump, has escalated a campaign of dehumanization and targeted persecution against a specific ethnic and religious minority: the Somali-American community.

This is not merely a domestic political dispute. It is a deliberate assault on the principles of equality, non-discrimination, and the rule of law—principles that underpin the international human rights system. We call upon governments worldwide, the United Nations, and all human rights organizations to publicly condemn these actions and exert diplomatic pressure to halt this dangerous escalation.

Documented Violations and Hateful Rhetoric

The attacks are explicit, public, and aimed at inciting fear and violence. They include:

1. Dehumanizing Public Speech: The President has repeatedly labeled Somali immigrants and U.S. citizens of Somali descent as “garbage,” stating, “I don’t want them in our country”. He has falsely claimed they “contribute nothing” and should “go back to where they came from”. Legal analysts warn this rhetoric approaches advocacy for “ethnic cleansing”.

2. Targeting of a Lawful, Integrated Community: Over 84,000 people of Somali descent live in Minnesota alone; 58% are U.S.-born, and 87% of those born abroad are naturalized citizens. They are teachers, doctors, lawyers, and civil servants. The President’s wholesale vilification is a betrayal of these Americans.

3. Policy Actions Fueling Fear: This rhetoric is coupled with punitive state action, creating a climate of terror.

· Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) has conducted raids in Somali neighborhoods.
· The administration has paused all immigration applications from Somalia.
· There is a plan to review the status of nearly 200,000 refugees admitted under the previous administration, sowing widespread anxiety.

A Broader Pattern of Eroding Human Rights

This incident is not isolated. It reflects a systematic effort to redefine and restrict human rights both domestically and in U.S. foreign policy:

· The U.S. State Department has been instructed to distort its annual human rights reports, attacking global efforts on gender equality, and inclusion while ignoring severe abuses.
· This represents a conscious “warping” of the idea of human rights to fit a discriminatory political agenda, which risks weakening protections worldwide.

Our Appeal and Demands

We appeal to you to act. Silence is complicity. We demand you use your voice and leverage to pressure the U.S. government to:

1. Immediately Cease all hateful, xenophobic, and racist rhetoric against the Somali-American community and all immigrant groups.
2. Halt and Investigatethe targeted ICE raids and immigration enforcement actions in Somali-American communities.
3. Uphold its International Obligationsby respecting the human rights of all within its jurisdiction, without discrimination based on race, national origin, or religion.
4. Redirect Diplomatic Energyto meaningfully address the documented human rights crises in Somalia, rather than using the country as a pretext for domestic persecution.

The world watched America build a system of ideals. It must now watch as those ideals are deliberately dismantled from within. The targeting of Somali-Americans is a test case for authoritarianism. If it succeeds in the United States, no minority anywhere will be safe.

We call on you to stand for humanity over hatred, for law over prejudice, and for the universal rights that belong to us all.

The time to speak out is now.

Warsame Digital Media (WDM)

In the grand, unfolding reality show that is American politics, the script has become as predictable as a laugh track. When the narrative sours, when the promised economic boom fizzles into continued inflation and tariff-induced headaches, there is a trusted formula for changing the channel. This week’s episode: “The President and the Garbage,” starring Donald J. Trump and a convenient, resilient, and entirely American community of Somali descent.

The plot twist, of course, is that there is no twist. It’s a rerun. The president stands before the nation, not to announce a plan to lower healthcare costs as subsidies expire, but to declare that an entire group of U.S. citizens and legal residents are “garbage” he doesn’t want “in our country”. His specific target is Representative Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.), a former refugee and now a congresswoman, whom he brands with the same dehumanizing term. The stated pretext is a fraud scandal in Minnesota, but the subtext—amplified to a deafening roar—is pure political theatre. The goal isn’t governance; it’s to gin up the base, deflect from policy failures, and execute a crude but effective two-for-one: attack a progressive lawmaker while terrorizing her constituents.

The Art of the Diversion: A Political Strategy, Laid Bare

The mechanics are transparent to the point of satire. The administration faces scrutiny on multiple fronts, from a defense secretary embroiled in scandals to a domestic agenda struggling to deliver. The solution? Find a villain.

· The Villain: In this case, the Somali-American community, particularly in Minnesota. A handful of individuals implicated in a social services fraud scheme—which the state governor admits may have been too generously administered during the pandemic—becomes grounds for tarring an entire population of over 84,000 in Minneapolis-St. Paul alone, the majority of whom are U.S. citizens.
· The Amplifier: The long-standing feud with Rep. Ilhan Omar, a “prominent critic” who handily wins her district. By tying the community scandal to a personal political foe, the attack gains narrative cohesion for the base. It’s not bigotry; it’s just “fighting back” against a political enemy. This framing ignores the fact that over 90% of Somalis in Minnesota are citizens by birth or naturalization, including teachers, doctors, police officers, and yes, even some who voted for Trump.
· The Action Sequence: Rhetoric must be married to action to make the threat tangible. As the verbal attacks peak, Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) launches operations in the same communities. Reports surface of masked agents, unmarked cars, and U.S. citizens and lawful residents being detained and questioned—over 170 such instances documented in one recent investigation. The administration denies targeting based on race, but the community’s experience tells a different story. The chilling effect is immediate and deliberate.

The Human Algorithm: When Satire Meets Survival

The community’s response is where the administration’s crude script meets a sophisticated, modern reality. Faced with dehumanization, Somali-Americans have weaponized the very tools of modern discourse: satire, digital culture, and constitutional grit.

Fact Check vs. Fear Mongering:

· The Claim: Minnesota is a “hub of fraudulent money laundering activity” with funds flowing to terrorist groups.
· The Fact: While a fraud scheme is under investigation, federal prosecutors have brought no charges linking it to terrorist financing. Governor Tim Walz calls the terror link claim an unfounded slander against all Minnesotans.

While fear is palpable—businesses close, streets empty, people share photos of unmarked cars in private message groups—a defiant, humorous pushback has flourished online. On TikTok and X, creators have used AI to insert Somali figures into iconic American historical images, a pointed reminder of their place in the national story. They parody other nationalist narratives, joking that Minnesota was promised to them “3,000 years ago”. This isn’t just coping; it’s a masterclass in using First Amendment tools to expose the absurdity of the attacks. As one legal analyst noted, it highlights the ridiculousness of an anti-immigration movement “in a land where the natives were genocided”.

Yet, this digital bravery exists alongside profound anxiety. “Anyone who looks like me is scared right now,” said Minneapolis City Council Member Jamal Osman, a naturalized citizen. The fear is that the president’s rhetoric paints a target, encouraging others to become “more radicalized”. This is not hypothetical. Women in hijabs report being chased, and the number of death threats against Rep. Omar and her staff spikes after each presidential tirade.

The Bigger, Uglier Picture: A Playbook of Prejudice

The attack on Somali-Americans is not an isolated incident but a chapter in a well-thumbed playbook. It follows a consistent logic:

1. Identify a community that is distinct in race, religion, or origin.
2. Seize on a real or alleged crime committed by a few to smear the many.
3. Elevate a cultural or political figure from that community as a avatar of the threat.
4. Marry rhetoric to enforcement action to create a climate of tangible threat.
5. Frame any criticism as sympathy for criminals or opposition to law and order.

We’ve seen this show before. It was previewed in the 2016 campaign launch attacking Mexican immigrants, tested with the “Muslim ban,” and had successful runs targeting Haitian and African migrants. The current season simply features a new cast. It is amplified by a framework of broader policies, like the permanent pause on immigration from so-called “third-world countries” and the termination of Temporary Protected Status for Somalis.

The tragic irony, as Rep. Omar notes, is that this vitriol is spewed by a man who “fails to acknowledge how this country was built on the backs of immigrants and mocks their ongoing contributions”. The greater irony is that this performance may work in the short-term political calculus, energizing a base ahead of a midterm election. But it writes a shameful legacy in real time—one where children go to school knowing the President of the United States called them “garbage”, where citizens fear their own government, and where the promise of America is negotiated down to a nativist punchline.

In the end, the community’s resolve might be the ultimate satire of the administration’s efforts. “We are scared,” said one non-profit director. “But we’re united”. They are responding to a campaign of division with solidarity, to dehumanization with a fierce affirmation of their identity and belonging. They are, in essence, refusing to act according to the script. The president’s goal may be to tear them down, but as Omar concludes, his attacks only seem to make his targets—and the principles they defy—stand taller. The ratings for this particular show, it seems, might finally be falling.

Fearless. Independent. Unbought.

By Warsame Digital Media (WDM)

Introduction: The Rhetoric of Division

In recent days, Donald Trump has escalated a long-standing pattern of rhetoric against Somali-Americans, using language that crosses from political criticism into outright derogation, having called them “garbage” and stating, “I don’t want them in our country.” This editorial examines these attacks not just as inflammatory speech, but as part of a concerted political and legal strategy that demands a factual response.

The Minnesota Context: A Community of Citizens, Not “Invaders”

Trump’s focus is Minnesota, home to the nation’s largest Somali community, with an estimated 84,000 people in the Twin Cities area and about 260,000 nationwide. Contrary to the narrative of a foreign “invasion,” about 95% of this community are U.S. citizens or legal residents. They are not newcomers; families have built lives over decades. They are the nurses, truck drivers, business owners, and, yes, the sitting U.S. Representative—Ilhan Omar—that Trump vilifies.

The administration’s actions create a climate of fear. Trump terminated Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for Somalis, a humanitarian protection first granted in 1991. Now, reports indicate a planned ICE operation specifically targeting undocumented Somalis in Minneapolis-St. Paul. While the Department of Homeland Security states enforcement is based on immigration status, the simultaneous public vilification of the entire community paints a clear picture.

By the Numbers: The Facts Trump Ignores

Let us be brutally factual, because Trump’s narrative collapses under the weight of data. The Somali-American community in Minnesota is:

· A rapidly growing part of the state’s social and economic fabric.
· A key driver in revitalizing neighborhoods and commercial corridors, credited by local mayors for bringing new life to their cities.
· A contributor of billions in taxes and commerce, forming one of the fastest-growing Black middle classes in the Midwest.

This is not a threat—it is an asset. But Trump sees a problem: successful immigrants undermine his myth that he alone can “save” America from the people who are actively building it.

Deconstructing the Narrative: The Fraud Case in Context

Trump’s justification often points to a major federal fraud case in Minnesota, where prosecutors allege a $300 million scheme against a child nutrition program involving “roughly 70 people,” many from the Somali community. It is a serious crime. However, using the crimes of a few to label an entire community of tens of thousands as monolithic “garbage” is the definition of bigotry.

The strategic choice to amplify this single case while ignoring the community’s vast contributions is a calculated political tactic, not a genuine assessment of public safety. His entire political machinery requires enemies. Without them, his rallies would be nothing but an aging billionaire ranting into a microphone about people who refuse to applaud him.

Merkel’s Nuanced Legacy vs. Trump’s Calculated Bigotry

The editorial’s original contrast between leaders is instructive but requires nuance. In 2015, Angela Merkel confronted a moral test with the declaration “Wir schaffen das” (“We can do this”), welcoming over a million refugees. It was an act of courage that defined her generation.

However, by 2018, political pressures forced a significant toughening of German and EU migration policy, including proposals for detention centers and accelerated deportations. This doesn’t equate her policy to Trump’s rhetoric but illustrates a complex reality: even leaders guided by principle face political limits. Trump, by contrast, faces no such internal compromise; he manufactures and weaponizes vulnerability as his core strategy. Merkel asked how to help those fleeing. Trump asks why we should not fear them.

Why Trump Targets Somalis: The Real Political Calculus

Trump is not confused. He is strategic. Somali-Americans are:

· Black
· Muslim
· Immigrant
· Politically empowered (exemplified by Rep. Omar)
· Economically improving

In Trump’s worldview, this combination is intolerable. It is the antithesis of the America he wants to resurrect. When racist mobs chant “Send her back!” at a sitting member of Congress, Trump does not silence them. He conducts them. That is not leadership; it’s the orchestration of bigotry for political gain.

America’s Test: Resilience vs. Resentment

History presents a stark choice. Somali-Americans have endured civil war, famine, and displacement. They are now enduring a political campaign of fear. Yet, as St. Paul Mayor Melvin Carter stated, Trump’s attacks are on Somali-Americans—on Americans.

The community’s response has been to assemble, organize, vote, and build. They turn exclusion into political mobilization. This is the real threat Trump fears: a minority that refuses to be silent, invisible, or grateful for mistreatment.

A Call to Action: From Witness to Participant

This is not a moment for passive observation. The targeting of a community based on race, faith, and origin is a threat to the foundational principle of equality under the law. History will judge not only the aggressor but also those who stood by. We therefore call on every reader to move beyond outrage to action:

1. Defend with Facts: Arm yourself with the truth. When you hear lies that Somali-Americans are “invaders” or “garbage,” cite the data: 95% are U.S. citizens or legal residents. Share stories of their contributions as business owners, healthcare workers, and civic leaders. Challenge the single-story narrative with the overwhelming reality of community resilience and success.
2. Support Tangibly: Patronize Somali-owned businesses. Attend community cultural events. Donate to or volunteer with local organizations like the Somali American Task Force or the American Refugee Committee that provide vital services and advocacy. Stand in solidarity at public forums and city council meetings.
3. Hold Power Accountable: Demand that every elected official, from city council members to U.S. Senators, publicly condemn racist rhetoric and discriminatory targeting. Contact your representatives and insist they support policies that protect all citizens and residents from discrimination, and oppose policies based on fearmongering. Make your vote contingent on their courage.

Silence is complicity. Apathy is consent. We must choose the America we want to build: one strengthened by its diversity and compassion, or one weakened by paranoia and division. The choice is in your hands, your voice, and your vote.

WDM’s Final Word

Trump will be remembered as a man who built walls. Somalis will be remembered as a people who climbed them. He will be remembered for dividing America; they will be remembered for expanding it.

When the smoke of his rallies clears and the chants fade, the Somali-American community will still be there, standing tall, building, contributing, and claiming its rightful place in the American story. Because unlike Trump, they don’t need fear to define their future. Their facts, their contributions, and their citizenship already do.

No human being is “garbage.” pic.twitter.com/WQZF3upAoq

— Terry Moran 🇺🇸 (@TerryMoran) December 3, 2025

Welcome to Minnesota — the so-called “State of Nice.” For ordinary Americans, that means free smiles, polite small talk, and a climate so cold it freezes problems before they start. But for the nation’s largest Somali community? It is becoming the “State of ICE” — and not the kind forming on the sidewalk.

The nearly 87,000 Somalis in the Minneapolis area are living a reality that is neither a dream nor a nightmare, but a calculated political limbo. The source of this anxiety is not abstract. It is a specific, planned Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) operation, first reported by The New York Times, that is set to target the Twin Cities. Teams of federal agents are preparing for a sweep focusing on Somali immigrants with final deportation orders, an action local mayors learned about from news reports, not official channels.

These wolves don’t howl at the moon. They howl at the word “immigrant” from the highest office in the land. The operation’s planning coincides precisely with President Donald Trump’s escalating rhetoric. He has referred to the Somali community and Congresswoman Ilhan Omar as “garbage” who should “go back to where they came from,” and stated, “I don’t want them in our country… They contribute nothing”. This, despite the fact that these very immigrants and refugees have transformed once-blighted areas like Minneapolis’s Lake Street corridor into thriving hubs of Somali-owned businesses, bakeries, and coffee shops. As community health worker Nasra Hassan put it, surveying the revitalized streets, “Where would America be without us?”.

THE SURREALITY OF LIVING BY THE NUMBERS

Here lies the first layer of the paradox. The political rhetoric paints a picture of a foreign, undocumented swarm. The data paints a different portrait:

· A majority are citizens. Approximately 95% of Somalis in Minnesota are U.S. citizens. Of the foreign-born, an overwhelming 87% are naturalized citizens.
· A community of Americans. About 58% of all Somalis in the state were born in the U.S.. These are the second-generation kids—born in American hospitals, fluent in English, cheering for the Minnesota Vikings—who now watch as their community is singled out.
· A targeted few. The administration has moved to terminate Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for Somalis, a program that, as of August, covered just 705 people nationwide. The planned ICE sweep is expected to target “hundreds”. The scale of the fear is deliberately disproportionate to the stated bureaucratic targets.

Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey has vowed that city police will not participate, warning that such targeting means “American citizens will be detained for no other reason than the fact that they look like they are Somali”. Governor Tim Walz has dismissed the operation as a “PR stunt”.

THE GHOST IN THE LUGGAGE: CLAN, A STRUCTURE, NOT A MELODRAMA

As if this external pressure weren’t enough, the essay’s original critique of internal “clan theatrics” requires a crucial factual grounding. Clan affiliation is not merely petty politics or emotional baggage; it is a deep-seated socio-political structure forged in the crucible of state failure.

For decades, with no functioning central government to provide security or justice, Somalis have relied on their patrilineal clan and lineage for protection, resource access, and conflict mediation. This system is a rational adaptation to anarchy, but it comes with a brutal hierarchy. It privileges powerful majority clans with “long genealogies” and access to weapons, while structurally marginalizing minority groups. The U.S. Department of State notes that these minority clans face killings, torture, land theft, and severe discrimination, often with impunity.

This is the complex, life-and-death system that was packed in the luggage—not as a choice, but as an ingrained framework for social organization. Academic research confirms that clan-based conflict is a significant driver of displacement, with a strong statistical correlation to population flight. The danger in the diaspora is not that Somalis are “busy reenacting clan melodramas,” but that they might unintentionally transplant a structure built for survival in a lawless state into a democratic civic space where it can become a source of division.

The bitter irony is acute: while facing a political threat that collectively demonizes them as “Somali,” the community must navigate internal lines of division that trace back centuries. You cannot effectively organize against a monolithic label if you are fractured beneath it.

WDM’S VERDICT: FORGE A NEW CONTRACT

This is the moment of truth.
You cannot fight ICE, DHS suspicion, and presidential vilification while being divided by the ancient, survival-based logic of the clan.
You cannot protect your children’s future—a future where 50% are already U.S.-born—by applying a logic of patronage and exclusion from a homeland many have never seen.
You cannot demand to be seen as lawful, contributing Americans if your internal politics are not transparent and inclusive.

The call is not simply to “drop the clan.” That is naive. The call is to consciously, deliberately build a new social contract for the American context. The existing models are already here: organizations like the Somali Bantu Association of America focus not on lineage but on universal empowerment through ESL classes, citizenship prep, legal aid, and youth programs. They serve over 10,000 refugees of all backgrounds, building unity around shared needs, not shared ancestry.

A CALL TO THE DIASPORA

The era of blind trust is over. The wolves are here, their howls amplified by a megaphone. Your strength is in your numbers, your citizenship, your economic contributions, and your deep roots in cities like Minneapolis.

· Organize politically as Somalis and as Americans. Vote, lobby, and run for office not as representatives of a sub-clan, but of a united community with shared interests.
· Let your institutions reflect your reality. Build community centers, business associations, and advocacy groups that serve everyone, leveraging your strength for the common good.
· Tell your own story. Counter the narrative of “garbage” and “trouble” with the visible truth of revitalized streets, filled classrooms, and patriotic service.

THE FINAL WORD

Fear is not a strategy.
Clanism is not a shield.
Silence is not safety.

The Somali community in Minnesota stands at a crossroads. One path leads to being picked apart, both by external forces and internal fractures. The other leads to forging a new, powerful unity fit for the challenges of America. The choice is stark, and the time to choose is now. Because if you don’t consciously define your place in America, someone else will be all too happy to define it for you.

NOTE:

This essay has been fact-checked and revised with data from U.S. Census figures, reports from CNN, AP, PBS, and the European Union Agency for Asylum, and statements from local officials.

Ismail H. Warsame is a Somali-Canadian political figure, author, and analyst. He played a foundational role in establishing the Puntland State of Somalia and is a prominent voice in Somali politics through his writings.

Area Details
Political Role First Chief of Staff/Cabinet for Puntland State (1998-2004). Key architect of Somali federalism.
International Work Zonal/National Technical Coordinator for UN/World Bank Reconstruction (2005-2007). Aid Coordinator for Somali TFG with EU (2007-2009).
Current Profile Political analyst and commentator. Runs “Warsame Digital Media” blog. Author of books on Somali politics.
Education Master’s in Thermal Power Engineering. Multilingual (fluent in Russian).

Political Career and Founding of Puntland

Ismail Warsame was a key founder of the Puntland State of Somalia in 1998. As the first Chief of Staff (also known as Chief of Cabinet) from 1998 to 2004, he was responsible for laying the administrative and ideological foundations of the state during its formative years. He is widely regarded as one of the original architects of the federal system in Somalia, which was envisioned as a way to rebuild the country after the civil war by decentralizing power and restoring trust in public institutions.

International Development Work

Following his service in Puntland, Warsame contributed to national reconstruction efforts with international organizations:

· From 2005 to 2007, he worked with the joint UN and World Bank Secretariat on Somalia’s Reconstruction and Development Programme (RDP), first as the Zonal Technical Coordinator for Puntland and later as the National Authorizing Officer (NAO).
· From 2007 to 2009, he served as the National Aid Technical Coordinator and Liaison Officer for the Transitional Federal Government (TFG) of Somalia with the European Union.

Current Work as Writer and Analyst

Now based in Toronto, Canada, Ismail Warsame is an influential independent political analyst. He runs a blog called “Warsame Digital Media” (WDM), where he publishes critical analyses and commentaries on modern Somali politics and current affairs. He is also a published author. One of his books, “Talking Truth to Power in Undemocratic Tribal Context,” became an Amazon bestseller.

Educational Background

Warsame has a strong technical educational background. He holds a Master’s degree in Thermal Power Engineering and is also a PhD candidate in the same field. He is multilingual and fluent in Russian.

WDM EDITORIAL: Somalia’s Political Decline Through the Eyes of Those Who Lived It.

Somalia is a country where the elderly remember too much, the youth know too little, and the so-called leaders know nothing except the quickest route to the nearest per diem.
The historical account in the referenced video is not merely nostalgia—it is a testimony, a confession, and a verdict. It is a window into how a proud nation bled itself to death while its current rulers continue the same recklessness with new vocabulary, new acronyms, and new foreign sponsors.

It is the story of a people who once produced giants—statesmen, scholars, commanders—now replaced by men whose greatest diplomatic achievement is securing a photo-op in Doha or Abu Dhabi.

It is the story of how we got here, and why we refuse to leave this miserable crossroads of misrule, clan ego, and institutional vandalism.

The Past Was Not Perfect—But It Had Men of Substance

The elder recounts the Somalia of yesterday—its political discipline, national projects, intellectual debates, and military ethos. It was not paradise, but it had structure, hierarchy, and ownership.

Those men disagreed, sometimes violently, but they stood for something.
They believed in a Somali state—even when they mismanaged it.

What do we have today?

A class of political scavengers whose loyalty is auctioned to the highest bidder.
Men who have replaced national ideology with foreign quotations, replaced political strategy with WhatsApp leaks, replaced statecraft with hotel-lobby conspiracies.

The past had flaws.
The present has fraudsters.

The Disease of Leadership: From Nation Builders to Per Diem Nomads

The elder’s testimony exposes a central truth: Somalia did not collapse from poverty. It collapsed from leadership rot.

And that disease continues.

Today:

Presidents travel more than flight attendants.

Prime ministers serve as ceremonial scapegoats.

Federal Member States behave like NGOs.

Parliament is a marketplace with microphones.

Security forces are clan-private companies in uniform.

“Experts” speak for 60 minutes but say nothing that survives 60 seconds.

Somali politics has become a never-ending audition for foreign donors, think-tanks, and intelligence handlers. The country is full of leaders who can recite Western buzzwords—inclusivity, resilience, governance, climate adaptation—while unable to govern a single neighborhood without AMISOM guns.

The Elders Warned Us—We Mocked Them, and Then Repeated Their Mistakes

The video is an indictment of the current generation of politicians who inherited a broken state and decided to break it further.

The elders warned:

“Respect institutions.”
We responded with: destroy them.

“Put country before clan.”
We elevated clan over constitution, clan over competence, clan over common sense.

“Avoid foreign manipulation.”
Today Somali leaders treat foreign embassies the way addicts treat dealers—with loyalty, obedience, and desperation.

“Build reconciliation.”
Instead we perfected the art of political revenge, gatekeeping, and exclusion.

“Unite the army.”
Instead of unity, we have a shopping mall of militias.

We did not just ignore the elder’s warnings—we perfected the opposite.

Somalia’s Current Affairs: A Mirror of Yesterday’s Mistakes—But Worse

The historical account uncovers patterns that are identical to Somalia’s present crisis:

1. Unrestrained Power Hunger

Leaders cling to power not because they have a vision, but because they fear accountability, exposure, and irrelevance. That is why Somalia is permanently in “transitional” paralysis.

2. Manufactured Crises

Just like the factions of the late 1980s, today’s leaders engineer crises to maintain relevance—extensions, parallel governments, clan agitation, media propaganda. Crisis is their oxygen.

3. Foreign Dependence

Yesterday it was the Cold War.
Today it is Gulf rivalry, Turkish influence, Ethiopian ambition, Western aid addiction.
Somalia’s sovereignty is a press-release fiction.

4. No National Project

Yesterday Somalia pursued literacy campaigns, ports, military reforms, foreign policy doctrine.
Today our national project is…
“Which politician travelled to which hotel?”

5. The Death of Accountability

The elder recalls people losing positions for minor failures.
Now leaders are rewarded for scandals, promoted for corruption, and celebrated for incompetence.

The Tragedy: History Speaks, But Somali Leaders Don’t Listen

What makes the elder’s account powerful is that it exposes how Somalia consistently recycles the same errors:

The arrogance of leaders

The betrayal of institutions

The manipulation of clans

The ignorance of youth

The opportunism of elites

The erosion of national vision

Somalia is not suffering because it lacks knowledge.
It is suffering because it refuses to act on knowledge.

Every elder’s testimony is a warning.
Every warning is ignored.

A Country That Forgot Its Past Cannot Govern Its Present

Somalia’s political class mocks history as “old stories,” yet they repeat the same madness with greater intensity and less shame. History is not our teacher—it is our hostage.

That is why the country is run by people who:

travel instead of govern,

threaten instead of negotiate,

beg instead of plan,

and blame instead of lead.

They are the children of collapse—raised in chaos, ruling in chaos, and addicted to chaos.

WDM VERDICT

Somalia’s elders gave us a mirror.

Somalia’s leaders turned it into a weapon.

The historical account reveals a painful truth: Somalia is governed by men who inherited a broken house and decided to use the remaining bricks to build personal kingdoms.

We are not simply victims of history.
We are victims of leaders who refused to learn from it.

Until Somalia produces a generation that:

values institutions over personalities,

nationhood over clanhood,

integrity over per diem,

and planning over firefighting,

the country will remain trapped in an endless loop of collapse, confusion, and counterfeit “leadership.”

This is the tragedy the elder warned us about.
This is the tragedy we continue to choose.

WHITE PAPER

The Puntland Case, Federal Overreach, and the Terminal Crisis of the Somali State

Warsame Digital Media (WDM) White Paper — November 2025
Critical Analysis, Policy Briefing & Strategic Forecast

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Executive Summary

Somalia’s federal experiment—marketed in 2004 as the grand compromise to save a collapsed state—has now entered its terminal crisis stage. Federal–State relations have decayed into mutual suspicion, coercion, and political trench warfare. The epicenter of this long-running friction has always been Puntland, the founding architect and early defender of federalism.

Contrary to shallow narratives, the conflict did not begin with Said Abdullahi Deni, nor with the 2016 or 2022 political cycles. It was baked into the system from the start:
a flawed federal charter, a Mogadishu political class wedded to centralism, and national leadership incapable of honest reconciliation or constitutional fidelity.

Today, Somalia stands at a historic deadlock:

Most mandates expired or expiring;

NCC transformed from a coordination body into a coercive presidential whip;

Federalism reduced to a battlefield of grudges;

And a looming political vacuum inviting authoritarianism, fragmentation, and extremist exploitation.

This white paper dissects the historical roots, constitutional failures, federal overreach, Puntland’s defensive posture, the crisis of expired mandates, and presents actionable pathways forward.

1. Historical Roots of the Crisis

(2004–2025)

1.1 The Original Sin of Somali Federalism

The Transitional Federal Government (TFG), established in 2004 in Nairobi, was born under duress, foreign bargaining, and elite compromise. Key fractures appeared immediately:

Puntland demanded a negotiated federal design.

Mogadishu elites insisted on a centralized restoration of the unitary republic.

The TFG constitution was ambiguous by design—its drafters feared hard choices and left core powers undefined.

This ambiguity guaranteed decades of conflict.

1.2 Puntland’s Foundational Position

As co-architect of the 1998 Puntland Charter and federalism advocate since Abdullahi Yusuf’s era, Puntland insisted on:

Real power-sharing

Resource-sharing agreements

National reconciliation before state reconstruction

A civil service built on merit, not clan capture

These principles were ignored, sidelined, and later weaponized.

1.3 Mogadishu’s Post-2004 Centralist Mindset

Successive federal presidents—Abdullahi Yusuf excluded—saw federalism as:

A temporary inconvenience

A “necessary lie” to win international legitimacy

A project they would later reverse through political engineering

This included:

Manipulating parliamentary selections

Appointing “friendly” state leaders

Weaponizing security forces

And, eventually, repurposing the National Consultative Council (NCC) as an enforcement mechanism rather than a consultative forum.

2. The NCC:

From Dialogue Platform to Federal Weapon

2.1 Intended Purpose

The NCC was designed as a coordination venue for election planning, federal–state dialogue, and conflict resolution.

2.2 Actual Evolution

Under the regimes of Farmaajo and Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, the NCC became:

A forum to pressure Puntland and Jubaland

A mechanism to fabricate a façade of “consensus”

A tool to override federalism through “agreements” drafted in Mogadishu

A platform where federal leaders imposed decisions under donor pressure and security leverage

2.3 Break with Puntland and Jubaland

When NCC meetings shifted from negotiation to dictation, Puntland declared:

“The NCC cannot replace the Federal Constitution.”

This was the moment the system fractured beyond repair.

3. Structural Causes of Non-Collaboration

3.1 Constitutional Ambiguity

Key unresolved issues:

Natural resources

Fiscal federalism

Internal security powers

Boundaries of states

Status of the capital

Division of authority between federal and state institutions

With no constitutional court, no arbitration mechanism, and no political trust, Somalia’s federal architecture is held together with masking tape.

3.2 Federal Overreach

The central government has repeatedly imposed:

Hand-picked state presidents

Unilateral election models

Procurement and revenue centralization attempts

Security interference

Diplomatic representation monopoly

Manipulation of foreign aid distribution

3.3 Puntland’s Defensive Posture

Puntland’s political doctrine since 1998 remains consistent:

Federalism cannot exist without shared sovereignty

National institutions must be neutral, inclusive, and constitutional

Mogadishu cannot dictate political outcomes for regional states

No federal leadership can impose decisions through force or donor leverage

This doctrinal difference—not Deni’s personality—drives the conflict.

4. The Current Crisis (2023–2025)

4.1 Expired Mandates, Expired Legitimacy

Somalia is entering constitutional twilight:

Federal parliament: at or near expiration

Federal government: embroiled in extension maneuvers

State governments:

Southwest: expired

Hirshabelle: expired

Galmudug: expired

Jubaland: Extension (election) contested

Puntland: internal contest but functional

NCC: effectively suspended

Constitution: Unilaterally violated by the Federal Government, and permanently “provisional”

4.2 Deadlock and Governance Paralysis

This gridlock means:

No credible authority to lead national elections

No consensus on electoral model

No institution with country-wide legitimacy

A donor community fatigued and skeptical

A political class incapable of compromise

4.3 Risk Trajectory: Point of No Return

Somalia now faces:

Fragmentation into de facto confederal units

Parallel governments (Garowe vs Mogadishu model)

Security vacuums quickly filled by Al-Shabaab

Increased foreign meddling

Economic free-fall as budget support becomes conditional

A crisis of national identity and fate

5. Puntland as the Case Study:

Why the Friction is Structural—not Personal

5.1 Misdiagnosing the Conflict

Observers often blame:

Deni

Political competition

Election cycles
But the reality predates 2004.

5.2 Puntland’s Consistent Position Across Administrations

Puntland has maintained the same red lines across:

Abdullahi Yusuf

Mohamud Muse Hersi

Abdirahman Farole

Abdiweli Gaas

Said Abdullahi Deni

Different personalities.
One constitutional position.

5.3 Why Puntland is the Test Case

Because Puntland:

Was the first to formalize state administration (1998)

Hosts some of Somalia’s most stable districts

Produces a disproportionate share of technocrats

Acts as the bellwether for federal–state relations

If Mogadishu fails to partner with Puntland,
the entire federal project collapses.

6. Policy Recommendations

6.1 Constitutional Finalization with Guaranteed State Rights

Somalia must finalize the constitution with:

Resource sharing formulas

Fiscal federalism

Security powers

Clear division of authorities

A functioning Constitutional Court

Without a constitutional court, federalism is a political bar fight.

6.2 Rebuilding Trust through Genuine National Dialogue

A real National Reconciliation & Constitutional Conference (NRCC)—not NCC theatrics—is needed.

Held outside Mogadishu, with:

States

Civil society

Elders

Diaspora experts

Neutral facilitation

Guaranteed implementation mechanisms

6.3 Reforming the NCC (or Replacing It)

The NCC must be transformed from:

A presidential enforcement tool
Into:

A rules-based intergovernmental council with fixed mandates, rotating chairs, and consensus requirements.

6.4 Establishing an Independent Electoral Commission

To prevent every election cycle from becoming a coup attempt.

6.5 Mandate Synchronization

All FMS and the FGS must harmonize electoral calendars to avoid the current rolling crisis.

6.6 Create a Federal Arbitration Mechanism

A joint court or panel for resolving disputes between states and Mogadishu.
No more “winner takes all.”

7. Strategic Outlook: 2025–2030

If reforms fail, Somalia will enter a decade of:

Fragmentation

Parallel administrations

Regional interference (UAE, Qatar, Ethiopia, Turkey)

Fiscal collapse

Federalism abandoned in practice

Mogadishu reduced to a city-state with symbolic authority

If reforms succeed, Somalia could achieve:

Shared sovereignty

Predictable governance

Economic stabilization

Genuine federal democracy

National reconciliation after 30 years of conflict

—

Conclusion

Somalia’s federal crisis is not an accident. It is the predictable outcome of two competing visions of the Somali state, battling since 2004:

Centralists who dream of re-creating the pre-1991 dictatorship with a modern façade

Federalists who recognize that Somalia’s survival demands decentralization, compromise, and shared sovereignty

Puntland represents the federalist doctrine.
Mogadishu political elites remain welded to the centralist fantasy.

Unless Somalia confronts these contradictions—honestly, urgently, and transparently—the country is heading not toward a failed state, but a fragmented, irretrievable non-state.

Somali leadership must choose:
Federalism with integrity, or disintegration with inevitability.

—

© 2025 Warsame Digital Media (WDM)
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    Examining the Legal Basis for Challenging Somalia’s EALA Nomination Before the East African Court of Justice

by: Bashiir M. Sheikh Ali | 16 November 2025 16:48

EALA logo. Photo courtesy

Somalia’s accession to the East African Community (EAC) in 2023 marked a transition from an exclusively domestic legal framework to a dual system in which national institutions will need to operate alongside binding supranational obligations. Few tests illustrate this shift more clearly than the dispute surrounding Somalia’s nomination of its first representatives to the East African Legislative Assembly (EALA).

According to media reports, a group of Somali legislators has challenged the legality of the nomination process before the East African Court of Justice (EACJ). Because the Court has not yet published the pleadings, the analysis in this essay relies on publicly reported allegations; any conclusions drawn here remain subject to revision should the official filings diverge from the facts reported.

Somalia’s entry into the EAC carried with it a set of binding obligations arising from the Treaty for the Establishment of the EAC. As I have explained more fully here, the Treaty establishes a distinct legal order complete with its own hierarchy of norms, guiding principles, enforcement mechanisms, and judicial institutions. By joining the Community, Partner States knowingly accept limits on aspects of their previously unrestricted sovereignty in fields governed by the Treaty, and they undertake to apply the Community’s legal norms consistently and in good faith. This framework is essential for understanding both the rules that regulate elections to the EALA and the authority of the EACJ to scrutinize those elections.

The supranational character of the EAC legal order has several important features. First, the Treaty’s provisions create binding obligations that are not dependent on domestic incorporation for their validity. Partner States, by acceding to the Treaty, accept its normative force and undertake to give effect to its requirements. The obligations set forth in the Treaty are autonomous; they do not derive their authority from national parliaments or executives. Second, in areas falling within the competence of the Community, EAC law enjoys primacy over inconsistent national law. This principle is essential for guaranteeing uniformity and preventing the fragmentation of obligations across Partner States. Third, the Community legal order confers rights directly upon individuals. For example, Article 30 of the the Treaty allows any person resident in a Partner State to bring before the EACJ a challenge to the legality of any act, regulation, directive, decision, or action taken by a Partner State or by an institution of the Community, on the ground that it is unlawful or infringes the Treaty. This mechanism distinguishes the EAC from traditional intergovernmental organizations and allows the Court to review domestic practices directly, without requiring referral through national institutions.

Within this system, the EACJ plays a central role. For instance, the Court is the final authority on the interpretation and application of the Treaty. Its judgments guarantee the consistency of EAC law and ensure that Partner States observe their obligations. National courts remain competent in matters internal to their own constitutional arrangements, but they do not determine compliance with the Treaty, nor do they review the legality of Partner State actions in relation to EAC obligations unless expressly provided. In the context of EALA elections, this division of jurisdiction is reinforced by Article 52 of the Treaty, which reserves to national courts “questions of membership” to EALA but does not confer on them the authority to evaluate whether the procedures used to elect members comply with Article 50(1). The legality of the process—not the legitimacy of individual membership—is the province of the EACJ.

The EACJ’s jurisdiction over matters relating to the election of EALA members has been clarified in two major decisions. In Among A. Anita v Attorney General of Uganda, the applicant challenged the legality of Uganda’s rules for electing its EALA representatives under Article 50(1) of the Treaty. Uganda argued that the dispute fell under Article 52 and therefore belonged exclusively to national courts, but the EACJ rejected this position. The Court held that examining whether national rules and processes comply with Article 50(1) is squarely within its jurisdiction under Articles 23, 27, and 30, because the issue concerns adherence to Treaty obligations rather than disputes over the qualification or seating of individual members. Substantively, domestic election rules satisfy Article 50(1) when they provide equal opportunity to become a candidate, allow full participation and competition among the required groupings, and ultimately ensure their effective representation in the EALA. Further, Partner States cannot insulate domestic electoral procedures from supranational review by invoking Article 52.

The second significant precedent is Wani Santino Jada v Attorney General of South Sudan, which concerned allegations that the President of South Sudan had directly appointed nine nominees to EALA without conducting the parliamentary election required by Article 50(1). Reviewing the circumstances on their face, the Court found that the process appeared inconsistent with the Treaty because Article 50(1) demands an election by the National Assembly, not executive designation. Given the imminence of the swearing-in ceremony, the Court issued interim orders restraining EALA from administering the oath of office pending a full hearing. This case illustrates the Court’s willingness to intervene to prevent possible Treaty violations from taking effect, and it confirms that the EACJ may review state conduct affecting EALA representation so long as the question concerns the legality of the process rather than the entitlement of a specific individual to hold office.

Against this jurisprudential backdrop, Article 50(1) of the Treaty imposes clear and binding obligations on Partner States. The provision requires that each State elect nine members to EALA through its National Assembly and that the elected representatives, “as much as feasible,” reflect political parties, shades of opinion, gender representation, and other interest groups. While the Treaty allows each National Assembly to determine its own procedure for conducting the election, this discretion is not unfettered. As the Uganda case shows, the procedures must be consistent with the overarching principles of good governance, democracy, rule of law, and participation embodied in Articles 6(d) and 7(2) of the Treaty. Partner States must adopt rules that ensure transparency, fairness, and genuine opportunity for competition.

In the context of Somalia’s EALA nomination, media reporting suggests that the challengers claim Somalia’s process departed from the Treaty’s requirements in several ways, though the accuracy of those reports can only be assessed once official documents become available. The allegations reportedly include that Somalia’s Federal Parliament did not conduct a competitive, transparent election and instead endorsed a list emerging from political agreements or internal negotiations without broad participation or open competition. The allegations also appear to include that Somalia has not adopted domestic rules of procedure specifically governing the election of EALA representatives. These assertions resemble the kinds of procedural defects that could lead the Court to conclude that national rules are inconsistent with the Treaty because they do not provide adequate procedures, representation, or transparent selection.

Another concern reflected in media accounts is whether Somalia’s process permitted the participation of political parties, women, youth, and other interest groups. Article 50(1) does not require proportional representation or fixed quotas. However, it does require that representation be feasible. As the Court explained in Among, feasibility is assessed through the design of the process. If the procedures prevent the participation of significant constituencies, then the State may be in violation of the Treaty even if the ultimate list includes individuals from multiple backgrounds. The emphasis is on opportunity, not outcome.

Media reporting also raises questions about possible executive influence in the nomination process, though this too can only be confirmed once official records are available. It is reported that the allegations include that the shortlist or final list of nominees was shaped largely through executive involvement rather than through an independent parliamentary election. If these assertions are proven, the parallels with the South Sudan precedent become significant, as the Court held that even the appearance of an executive-driven appointment process—unmediated by proper parliamentary procedures—could amount to a violation of Article 50(1). The similarity between that scenario and the allegations concerning Somalia, if proven in court, would indicate a substantial risk of non-compliance.

In evaluating the Somali situation within the broader supranational framework, it is important to recall that Partner States cannot rely on internal political dynamics to justify deviation from Treaty obligations. Once a State accedes to the Treaty, legal compliance becomes an objective requirement assessed by reference to Community standards, not domestic political convenience. Where domestic practices conflict with the Treaty, the Treaty prevails. This principle ensures uniformity, predictability, and legal integrity across the region. Somalia’s domestic parliamentary traditions, political context, or internal balance of power cannot therefore override the supranational obligations imposed by Article 50(1).

The remedies available to the Court depend on the stage of the process. If the Somali nominees have not yet been sworn in, the Court may issue interim orders similar to those granted in the South Sudan case, preventing their seating until the legality of the process is determined. If they have already taken the oath, the Court may avoid retroactive unseating—though this is not an absolute rule—and may instead issue prospective orders requiring Somalia to adopt compliant procedures for future elections. In both the Uganda and South Sudan cases, the Court balanced the need to protect the integrity of the Treaty with the practical consequences of disrupting a regional legislative body’s functioning.

The likely outcome of the Somali case, based solely on reported allegations, is that the Court will assert jurisdiction under Articles 23, 27, and 30 and reject any argument that the matter falls exclusively within national jurisdiction under Article 52. The Court will then examine whether Somalia conducted a genuine parliamentary election, whether transparent procedural rules were adopted, whether representation was feasible, and whether executive involvement compromised the process. If the reported deficiencies are proven, the Court may conclude that Somalia failed to meet the requirements of Article 50(1) and may direct the State to rectify its procedures. These conclusions remain provisional; they may change significantly once the actual pleadings clarify the factual circumstances.

Somalia’s first engagement with the supranational legal mechanisms of the EAC carries broader implications. By acceding to the Treaty, Somalia has accepted that its internal procedures may be reviewed by the EACJ, and this dispute marks the first practical exercise of that authority. The discipline imposed by supranational oversight is foundational to ensure that integration operates through uniform standards, predictable processes, and enforceable legal obligations. The controversy surrounding the EALA nominations is therefore less about the individuals involved and more about Somalia’s entry into a legal order in which state conduct is subject to binding regional scrutiny. It signals the beginning of Somalia’s adjustment to a system that requires legal harmonisation, institutional responsibility, and adherence to supranational norms—an evolution that should shape Somalia’s legal system and its participation in the Community.

——

The author is a Somali-American lawyer based in Nairobi. The views expressed in this analysis are his own and do not reflect those of any organization with which he may be affiliated. He can be reached at bsali@yahoo.com.

[Courtesy]

WDM – Critical Analysis, News & Commentaries
20 November 2025

Welcome to the Federal Republic of Fee-Somalia — a place where entering your own homeland is now a geopolitical adventure, a bureaucratic lottery, and a fiscal ambush. In this country, the price of stepping onto Somali soil depends entirely on which political fiefdom stamped your paper, which desk warlord decided to innovate a fresh “revenue stream,” and which checkpoint commander woke up today convinced he runs an independent republic.

Somalia — the state that cannot run an election, cannot secure its capital, and cannot unify a single institution — has mastered only one specialty:
charging its own dual citizens multiple fees to enter their own country, proudly and illegally.

This isn’t governance.
This isn’t federalism.
This isn’t even clan politics.
This is institutional schizophrenia performed live on a national stage.

Visa Fees by Geography: A Tragicomedy of Errors

Try using a Mogadishu visa in Garowe or Hargeisa.
Try explaining your Somali citizenship to officials acting like UN border forces.

One country.
Different fees.
Different systems.
Zero shame.

Somalia is now the only country where nationality is valid in theory, invalid in practice, and negotiable at the checkpoint. This is not autonomy. It is not federal experimentation. This is raw incompetence marketed as policy innovation.

A Government at War With Itself

The world politely calls Somalia a “federal state.”
In reality, it is a quilt of territorial toll-booths disguised as governments.

Every region behaves like a mini-embassy:
Minting fees.
Inventing regulations.
Treating fellow Somali regions as foreign threats.

Which government charges its own citizens double entry?
Which country negotiates with itself at airports?
Which leadership watches this circus and says, “Excellent — proceed”?

Only in Somalia do leaders treat parts of their own territory as enemy states — and then fly around the world to beg donors for funds to “strengthen national unity.”

Diplomacy of the Absurd

You cannot shame people who feel no shame.

The federal government pretends it oversees one immigration system.
Regional authorities pretend they each run their own country.
Travellers — Somali or foreign — are collateral damage in this somatic identity crisis.

Somalia is the only place where:

A Somali citizen becomes an undocumented alien by crossing provincial lines.

A Somali passport is recognized in foreign capitals but invalid in parts of Somalia.

Visa rules are determined by feuding political factions, not laws or institutions.

Even the African Union, famous for its patience with chaos, looks at Somalia and whispers:
“This is getting embarrassing.”

No Solutions. No Shame. No Leadership.

Fixing this mess requires:
A committee → that needs a workshop → that demands a donor-funded retreat → that requires per diems → that necessitates new visa fees → and so the snake eats its tail.

The stalemate is deliberate.
Because chaos is profitable.
Shame requires accountability — and none exists.
Reform threatens revenue — so reforms never come.

WDM Verdict

This situation is not merely dysfunctional-
it is insane.

A country that cannot guarantee a unified entry system for its own citizens has lost its administrative spine. Somalia has reduced governance to a roadside kiosk economy and turned immigration into political ransom.

Until leaders stop behaving like rival airport franchise operators, Somalia will remain a country united by passport covers and divided by entry fees.

WDM will continue exposing this rotten governance until someone, somewhere in Somalia’s political theatre decides to behave like a statesman instead of a checkpoint cashier.

—

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Welcome to Puntland—once the bedrock of a fragile Somali federation, now a mirage built not on sand but on collective fiction. The state that once prided itself as the first pillar of the federal experiment has quietly misplaced its founding objectives somewhere between donor conference buffets and expired project memoranda.

Its “institutions” stand like archaeological ruins: a labyrinth of abandoned aid projects gathering dust; pillars made of yellowing, unsigned reports; and a civil service populated not by public servants but by specters. Not the noble shades of heroic ancestors—no, these are the infamous Ghost Government Workers: apparitions with payroll numbers, invisible desks, non-existent job descriptions, and salaries that vanish into private pockets faster than a minister signs a new “capacity-building MoU.”

Here, the only thing growing faster than corruption is the headcount of non-existent employees. The public sector has become an open marketplace where ghost-hiring is a profitable side hustle, budget discipline is a myth, and foreign donors unknowingly sponsor entire cemeteries of phantom staff. Meanwhile, leaders are too busy auditioning for the role of Villa Somalia Tenant-in-Waiting to notice the institutional rot hollowing out the very state they claim to defend.

Puntland’s civil service is less an institution than a graveyard of temporary solutions, each tombstone engraved with a donor’s logo. Ministries materialize overnight, bloom like mushrooms in the rainy season of foreign aid, and just as quickly wither when the funding dries up and the international gaze shifts to a new crisis. In this cycle, the very concepts of a local budget, sustainable planning, or a functioning Civil Service Commission are not just neglected; they are treated as mythical concepts, as elusive as the Ark of the Covenant.

The Spectral Economy: An Industry of Ghosts

The “ghost worker” is no longer a scandal in Puntland; it is the cornerstone of a parallel economy. This is a fully realized phantom civil service, a shadow government whose HR department is run on nepotism, political patronage, and the discreet negotiations held in Garowe’s tea shops after dark.

The system thrives on duplication and invention.
One qualified accountant in the Finance Ministry?The solution is not efficiency, but proliferation: hire six “assistant auditors,” four “regional fiscal coordinators,” and three “inter-ministerial liaison officers.” None have ever seen a government ledger, but all are paid. On time. Every month. Their existence is managed by a select priesthood of payroll clerks who perform the miracles that keep the ghosts on the books.

· State-building? A rhetorical question.
· State-draining? The primary industry.
· Sustainable governance? A fantasy.
· Sustainable corruption? Puntland’s most resilient native product.

The Fiscal Fantasy: Budgeting Without a Budget

Puntland’s fiscal strategy is a masterclass in dependency, a four-act play performed for an audience of international donors:

1. The Appeal: Lament a crisis of legitimacy and capacity.
2. The Absorption: Spend the incoming funds with maximal opacity.
3. The Exhaustion: Test the donor’s patience until warnings are issued.
4. The Repentance: Launch a new “reform initiative” to appeal to their conscience.

Rinse and repeat.

The radical notion that local revenue could fund public institutions is dismissed not as impractical, but as heretical—a dangerous Western idea that threatens the delicate ecosystem of graft and dependency.

The Absentee Landlords: Leadership Focused on Mogadishu

While Puntland’s bureaucratic house crumbles, its landlords are perpetually away, gazing longingly at Villa Somalia. Puntland has perfected aspirational governance, where the state is not an end to be served, but a steppingstone to be used.

Why bother fixing a broken ministry in Garowe when you can draft a speech about fixing the entire nation from Mogadishu? Why deliver services to your constituents when you can campaign for a grander title? Every official, from director-general to “acting consultant,” maintains two resumes: one for the job they neglect, and one for the office they covet in the next government.

The central, unifying political question in Puntland is not “How do we improve this?” but “Maxaa laga helaa Villa Somalia?”—What’s in it for me in Mogadishu?

The Collapse in Slow Motion: A Union Sealed with Donor Duct Tape

The Puntland “State of the Union” is a tragic farce: a government without governance, institutions without integrity, workers without work, and leaders without a trace of shame.

The few real civil servants—the skeletal crew that keeps the lights on—are drowning in a sea of meaningless paperwork, implementing policies designed only for progress reports, and maintaining programs already slated for termination. They are the living, struggling in a kingdom of the dead.

Meanwhile, the ghosts multiply. The donors grow weary. The leaders campaign. The public despairs. And the entire phantom republic quietly collapses under the weight of its own fiction.

The Final Diagnosis

Puntland’s ailment is not a poverty of resources, but a poverty of seriousness.

A state cannot be built on spectral employees, donor whims, and the presidential ambitions of its caretakers. It cannot survive when its institutions are retirement schemes for the connected, its projects are photo-opportunities, and its payroll is a ledger of the damned.

The people of Puntland deserve a government that exists in daylight. Somalia deserves a partner that is functional, not fictional. The very idea of governance demands more than this elaborate charade.

Until then, the haunted house remains open for business, and the ghosts continue to collect their pay.

Be realistic — painfully realistic, the kind of realism that makes people shift in their seats and reach for the nearest excuse. Mogadishu is no longer a “shared capital.” It hasn’t been for more than three decades, yet the political class still recites the lie with the enthusiasm of a badly trained parrot.

What stands today on the Banadir coastline is not a federal capital, nor a symbol of national unity, nor the beating heart of a reborn Somali Republic. No, Mogadishu is a fortified clan foxhole, a trench lined with roadblocks, Tigre-imported cement, and the selective memory of those who pretend the Civil War ended everywhere except in their own political psyche.

Let’s call things by their names before the masquerade consumes us all.

THE MYTH OF THE “NATIONAL CAPITAL”

A capital belongs to the nation.
Mogadishu, in practice, belongs to the mentality of its owners — a single clan holding the city as a victory trophy ever since the 1991 clan cleansing that violently uprooted Darood communities who had lived peacefully there for generations.

This is a historic fact.
Not an insult.
Not a provocation.
A documented, unrepented wound.

And yet, each time a Darood politician visits Mogadishu, they are expected to behave like thankful guests, not constitutional stakeholders. They must walk like diplomats in a foreign state — escorted, monitored, barely tolerated, and reminded silently: “This is not yours anymore.”

Anyone pretending otherwise is either:

Delusional

Nostalgic

Or dangerously hopeful

WDM recommends medical check-ups for all three conditions.

THE DE FACTO REALITY: OWNERSHIP MENTALITY REPUBLIC

In today’s Mogadishu:

Federalism is tolerated only when it serves Mogadishu’s political merchants.

The constitution is cited only when it helps retain power.

The “national capital” label is weaponized to extract resources while keeping other regions politically paralyzed.

The unwritten code of modern Mogadishu politics is simple:

“What’s yours is mine.
What’s mine is absolutely mine.”

It is a city administered by a clan, defended by a clan, narrated by a clan, and mythologized by a clan — yet publicly marketed as a capital for all.

This is not a capital city; it is a clan condominium with a ceremonial national flag.

THE WARLORD WHO SPEAKS THE TRUTH

And here lies the great satire of Mogadishu politics:

During a recent parliamentary debate, a warlord-turned-senator — a man who once patrolled the capital in a technical, ruling neighborhoods with the arrogance of a medieval baron — stood up and spoke with surprising clarity about Mogadishu’s ownership mentality.

And ironically, tragically, his worldview is closer to Mogadishu’s reality than that of Said Dahir and the “Mogadishu belongs to all Somalis” dreamers.

The warlord, Muse Saudi Yalaxow, understands the city because he once ran it.
He knows its unspoken truth:

“Mogadishu belongs to us. Everyone else is here by convenience, not by right.”

Said Dahir and his like inside and outside the rubber-stamped parliament— idealists preaching Scandinavian-style inclusivity — may be sincere, but they are speaking to a Mogadishu that does not exist, has not existed since 1991, and will not exist until the psychological barricades fall.

In Mogadishu, the warlord is the realist.
The intellectual is the romantic.
And the city remains a fortress pretending to be a capital.

DAROOD “OWNERSHIP CLAIM”? A SAD COMEDY OF SELF-DECEPTION

Let’s address the elephant in the ruined villa:

Some Darood elites keep whispering, “Mogadishu is our capital too.”

WDM responds:
“With what army, what rights, what demographic footprint, and what political leverage?”

If a capital cannot guarantee:

free movement,

equal property rights,

political neutrality,

and safety without clan sponsorship,

then one cannot call it a capital.
Call it something else: a tribal headquarters with UNDP branding.

Those clinging to the dream of shared ownership are still mentally living in pre-1991 postcards.

History moved on.
They didn’t.

THE CONSEQUENCE: A COUNTRY WITH A HOSTAGE CAPITAL

When the capital belongs to one clan, what happens?

1. Federalism collapses.
Every negotiation becomes a hostage negotiation.

2. Other regions operate like independent states.
Because they cannot trust a city that doesn’t treat them as equals.

3. National elections become Mogadishu family business.

4. Every president becomes a clan-appointed caretaker, not a national leader.

5. The Civil War continues in political form, wearing a suit and speaking donor-friendly English.

THE SATIRE OF “NATIONAL OWNERSHIP”

Mogadishu is presented as:

National capital

Seat of sovereignty

Symbol of unity

Federal heartbeat

But ask any honest resident of the city who owns Mogadishu, and they will laugh you out of KM4.

Laughter — the final stage of truth.

THE WDM VERDICT

WDM issues its ruling:

Mogadishu, as currently constituted, cannot be the capital of a functioning federal republic.
It is the inherited foxhole of 1991, wrapped in a national flag.

Until the city:

confronts its past,

acknowledges what happened,

dismantles the ownership mentality,

and treats other Somalis as stakeholders,
there will never be a “Somali capital,”
only a Hawiye metropolis hosting federal tourists.

This is not hatred.
This is historical realism stripped of political cosmetics.

Somalia cannot build a republic on landmines of selective memory.

——-

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Imagine you – you did everything right. You waited. You filled out the papers. You answered the questions. You pledged allegiance. You became a citizen of United States. You believed you had joined the club. You believed citizenship meant you were safe.
And then: poof. Someone upstairs decides you weren’t good enough after all. Someone digs out something old, something negligible, something they say changed your status. They rip your certificate, snatch your rights. Suddenly you’re a “former citizen.” Your home becomes an alien land.

This isn’t fiction. According to reporting by the Associated Press, naturalized citizens in the U.S. are increasingly wary of denaturalization policies under the guise of “immigration enforcement” — effectively undoing the contract between citizen and state.
The dream of citizenship becomes the nightmare of uncertainty.

Fear Wears a Flag

For many, citizenship is the crown jewel of belonging. It says: “I am one of you.” It says: “I belong here.” Yet, in this new American concoction, citizenship can now wear a flimsy label: “You belong until we decide you don’t.”
The news story notes that even those who thought they were safe are having nightmares: what if the state comes and says: “Change your status. We changed our mind.”
When the state stops being the guarantee and starts being the threat, fear becomes the new civic duty.

This is deeply political. The state that once promised permanence is now issuing caveats. Citizenship becomes “provisional,” not in oath, but in practice. Rights become conditional. Membership becomes revocable.
For diaspora communities, immigrants, people building lives — this is not just bureaucratic. It hits identity, security, trust.

Denaturalization as Policy, Denial as Identity

What does it mean when you can become a citizen and later have that right withdrawn?
It means the state holds the power of “belonging” in its hands like a bouncer at a nightclub. You’re admitted. You dance. Then the bouncer whispers: “Actually, we’re shutting the club. You – you’re out.”
And your citizenship certificate? The souvenir becomes the proof of what you used to be.

Such acts are not only legal maneuvers but symbolic messages: “We grant you membership, but you must remember: it is revocable.”
This sends a chilling signal to all who stood in line, filled the forms, waited the years: trust the state less. Participate less? Speak up less?
Fear becomes the invisible chain.

A Mirror for Somalia’s Diaspora? Why This Matters Beyond America

You and I may be far in theology — you in Puntland, engaged in civic identity projects — but this American story resonates for global citizens, for diaspora, for anyone building life across borders.

In Somalia, diaspora communities invest in homeland infrastructure; they regenerate lives. In the U.S., naturalised citizens invested in the American promise — homes, businesses, families — and find the ground shifting beneath them.
If citizenship is destabilised in the world’s most powerful democracy, what message does that send for fragile states, for people whose belonging has always been negotiable?

It underscores a global truth: when the state treats citizenship as a privilege rather than a right, another form of marginalisation creeps in.
You might hold documents. You might swear an oath. But your status is only as safe as the political convenience that underpins it.

The Big–Picture Politics: Fear as a Weapon

Let’s pull the curtain back. Why the fuss over naturalisation and denaturalisation? Because fear is power.
When people fear that citizenship can be taken away, they self-censor. They stop complaining. They avoid risk. They shrink.
That’s not a bug. It’s a feature. The state that casts the shadow of revocation over its citizens wields compliance without truth.
And let’s not forget: policies like this emerge in the broader context of immigration enforcement, securitisation, and the shifting politics of identity. The story of denaturalization is not only about immigrants. It’s about how states redefine loyalty, belonging, and consent.

The Punchline (But It Hurts)

So here’s the hard truth: In the land of the free, you might be free… until you’re not.
Citizenship was once the fortress of rights. Now it’s the house built on sand.
It doesn’t matter if you earned your certificate fairly, if you’ve lived the life of a citizen. If someone finds a thread in your paperwork, you can be un-made.

For those of us across the world watching this unfold — whether in Somalia, Puntland, or the diaspora communities of Kenya, Gulf, or Europe — it should raise alarms. Because if the U.S. can break this social contract, what hope do weaker states have for stabilising belonging?

Call to Action

If you hold citizenship anywhere: check your documents. Know your rights. Don’t assume permanence.
If you are part of the diaspora: worry not only about investment in infrastructure but about the investments made in identity — in belonging.
If you are a journalist, an editor, a civic educator: sharpen your voice. Denaturalization is the next frontier of disenfranchisement, the quiet removal of rights through paperwork and fear.

——–

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WDM EDITORIAL

Somalia’s federal experiment was never meant to be glamorous, but it was at least supposed to function. Today, even that modest expectation has collapsed into a farce so grotesque it would make a kleptocrat blush. The so-called Federal Government of Somalia has ceased to exist in every capacity except one: as a passport for one man, Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, to hop around the world in an endless parade of irrelevant conferences where deputy ministers should be the ones shaking hands.

This is not diplomacy.
This is not leadership.
This is state-funded tourism.

While Mogadishu’s institutions crumble like stale biscuits, the president has transformed the country into a one-man travel agency. His itinerary is full; his country is empty. Federal ministries operate on autopilot. Parliament is a cemetery of legislation. National courts and commissions are sleeping under layers of dust. And security? Let’s not embarrass ourselves.

But the latest scandal—charging an extortion fee to enter Villa Somalia—is the final insult. The people’s house, the symbolic heart of the republic, has been reduced to a toll gate. Citizens must now pay to see the man who claims to govern them. It is the purest metaphor for a regime that only understands the country as a revenue source, not a republic.

Every week brings a new scandal:

Illegal appointments

Phantom contracts

Misused international funds

Secret deals with foreign powers

Political persecutions

Clan-based manipulation

Abuse of state security units
Yet none of it slows Hassan Sheikh. The man walks through accusations the way a seasoned thief walks through a dark alley: with confidence, familiarity, and no fear of accountability.

Why? Because no institution in Mogadishu has the spine—or independence—to hold him in check.

Somalia is not witnessing simple misrule; it is witnessing the criminalization of governance itself. The thin line between public office and organized extortion has been erased. The presidency has become a private enterprise. The so-called federal government is merely a storefront with broken windows.

And all the while, the man smiles, travels, waves, and lectures the world about “peacebuilding,” “governance reform,” and “democracy transition.” A Hollywood actor couldn’t keep a straight face under such a script.

Somalis are now living in a republic of shenanigans, where corruption is policy, dysfunction is routine, and extortion is a legitimate revenue stream. No state can survive this. No people can tolerate it indefinitely.

RECOMMENDATIONS: HOW TO COUNTER THE MADNESS AND RESTORE SANITY

1. Build a Unified Opposition Front With Real Leadership

Not the chaotic, ego-driven gatherings we see today. Somalia needs a disciplined, coordinated political bloc capable of ending Hassan Sheikh’s circus. Puntland, Jubaland, Banadir opposition, and civic forces must adopt:

A joint election roadmap

A shared anti-corruption charter

A single spokesperson structure
Without unity, Hassan Sheikh will divide, bribe, and outmaneuver them all.

2. Document Every Abuse—Create an Evidence Archive

Every scandal, every extortion scheme, every illegal appointment must be documented.
Produce a national corruption ledger for public release and international submission.
Do not let these crimes disappear into memory.

3. Mobilize Public Opinion—Digital and Traditional

Somalis are no longer voiceless.
Coordinate:

Social media campaigns

Community forums

Diaspora petitions
Expose Villa Somalia’s behavior relentlessly.
Silence is complicity.

4. Encourage Federal Member States to Assert Constitutional Autonomy

Puntland and Jubaland must not wait for Mogadishu’s permission to function.
The constitution grants them rights—use them:

Reject illegal directives

Strengthen local institutions

Build alliances with civil society
A functioning periphery can counter a rotten center.

5. Press the International Community for Conditional Engagement

The donors love pretty speeches from Mogadishu.
Force them to confront the truth:
No reforms should be funded without measurable benchmarks and oversight.
Insist on:

Independent audits

Transparency requirements

Sanctions against corrupt officials

Make it expensive for the world to ignore Somalia’s decay.

6. Prepare for a Post–Hassan Sheikh Transition

The writing is on the wall.
When this regime collapses under its own greed and incompetence, there must be:

A credible interim framework

A caretaker structure agreed upon by FMS

A clear roadmap to stabilize governance
Chaos benefits only extremists and power brokers.

7. Establish Civic Protection Networks Against Extortion

Communities in Mogadishu must organize safe reporting channels, legal assistance pools, and watchdog groups to fight extortion at checkpoints, ministries, and Villa Somalia gates.

CONCLUSION: A COUNTRY SHOULD NOT BE A COLLECTION BOX

Somalia is not a marketplace for presidential greed.
It is not a donation basket.
It is not a private travel budget.

It is a nation struggling to breathe, strangled by a presidency that no longer even pretends to govern.

Somalis must push back—peacefully but forcefully—before the republic collapses completely into a theatre of extortion and chaos.

—–

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WDM EDITORIAL

Let us begin with a simple civic riddle: Who broke Somalia’s fragile federal experiment long before Hassan Sheikh began hammering in the final nails?
Clue: He wore a presidential sash like a Halloween costume, weaponized the NISA like a private militia, and called every sub-national leader “Walaal” while plotting their political funerals behind closed doors.

Yes—Mohamed Abdullahi Farmaajo, the man who marketed himself as the “saviour of federalism” while conducting the most aggressive anti-federal coup ever attempted in Somalia’s history.

And now, strangely, he floats in the political pond pretending to be neutral, claiming innocence like a fox wiping feathers from his mouth.

THE GREAT GOVERNOR-MAKER OF VILLA SOMALIA

Let’s not suffer from national amnesia.
Who turned the constitutionally elected federal member state presidents into Mogadishu-appointed district commissioners?

Who converted state-building into a political slaughterhouse?

Ahmed Qoor Qoor (GalMudug) – delivered from Villa Somalia’s labour room.

Abdiaziz Laftagareen (Southwest) – delivered by forceps, courtesy of Ethiopian commandos and Villa Somalia’s cash register.

Ali Guudlaawe (Hirshabeelle) – a president for a state he constitutionally could not lead, rushed through in a political C-section without anesthesia.

All three were produced in Farmaajo’s political factory, where state presidents were assembled like cheap plastic toys—shiny, fragile, and remote-controlled.

And then he dared lecture the nation about “constitutional order.”

THE MAN WHO TRIED TO SHRINK PUNTLAND AND JUBALAND

Before HSM began his reckless centralist crusade, there was Farmaajo—the original federal vandal.

It was Farmaajo who first attempted to:

Reduce Puntland to a ceremonial afterthought, a governorate that salutes visitors in Villa Somalia’s waiting room.

Bully Jubaland into submission, deploying every foreign muscle he could borrow—Ethiopian troops, Qatari funds, political sabotage—anything short of hiring a marching band.

Isolate both states from national decision-making, turning the FGS–FMS relationship into a hostage negotiation.

And now, in 2025, he walks around Mogadishu with a saintly face, pretending he never signed the death warrant of Somali federalism.

FEDERAL STRUCTURE? FARMAAJO TREATED IT LIKE A SPEED BUMP

Under Farmaajo, Somalia’s federal foundations were not just cracked—they were actively burned, bulldozed, and buried.
He weaponised every federal tool at his disposal:

NISA – turned into a private militia for midnight arrests and political kidnappings.

Federal Budget – transformed into a carrot-and-stick system: loyalty gets cash, dissent gets starvation.

Foreign Military Allies – used as pressure valves against federal states, especially in Southwest and Jubaland.

Parliament – reduced to a rubber-stamp club whose only job was to applaud on command.

This man did not simply damage federalism.
He turned it into a charred carcass, a project Somalis are still trying to resuscitate with bare hands.

THE POLITICAL PYROMANIAC WHO PRETENDS TO BE A NATIONAL PATRIOT

Today, Farmaajo positions himself as the “reasonable statesman,” above the fray, watching the DamulJadiid–Golaha Mustaqbalka–Sirdoon circus as if he didn’t set the stage for this chaos.

He now wants us to believe he is the balanced voice, the misunderstood technocrat, the man Somalia rejected too early.

Nonsense.

He is the one who:

Poisoned federal politics.

Created puppet states.

Normalized federal interference.

Militarized elections.

Paved the road for today’s crisis by turning federalism into a bargaining chip instead of a system of governance.

If Hassan Sheikh is the farmer harvesting Somalia’s political tragedy, Farmaajo is the man who planted the seeds and watered them with authoritarian ambition.

A FINAL WDM VERDICT

Let history record this truth clearly:

No one has done more to undermine Somalia’s federal foundations than Mohamed Abdullahi Farmaajo.
Not out of ideology, not out of strategy—but out of a blind thirst for control and a deep suspicion of decentralization.

He lit the fire.
Others are simply dancing around the flames.

Somalia will not move forward until it confronts the political arsonists—old and new—who treat the federal system as a personal toy, not a national covenant.

WDM will continue to call them out. Loudly. Relentlessly. Without apology.

WARSAME DIGITAL MEDIA (WDM) –  EDITORIAL

Somalia is no longer simply failing. It is being dragged—deliberately—toward fatal disintegration by a presidency that has exhausted its moral legitimacy, constitutional mandate, and political usefulness. Today, every indicator points not to mere instability but to an approaching national event horizon, a point of no return from which no federal system, no institution, and no social compact can be retrieved.

President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud has now crossed the Rubicon. His regime is no longer attempting to govern; it is attempting to rule by decree, extension, manipulation, and substitution of the constitution with personal ambition. His appointment of a new puppet prime minister is not an administrative decision—it is a political demolition charge designed to clear the path for illegally extending his mandate.

Somalia has seen this film before—but never with this level of recklessness.

A Parallel Government? Somalia Approaches Uncharted Territory

The emerging response from the regions and opposition—the Golaha Mustaqbalka (Puntland, Jubaland, and the Mogadishu opposition)—signals a moment Somalia has never witnessed in the post-civil war era:
the open preparation for a parallel federal government.

Their next summit in Kismayo is expected to produce not just communiqués and warnings, but the birth of a competing political authority. This is no longer speculation. It is happening in real time.

Think of the implications:

Two rival federal systems claiming legitimacy

Two “presidents,” two “prime ministers,” two “parliaments”

Competing international alliances

Fragmentation of the command structures of security forces

Collapse of national coordination

Total paralysis of governance

This is the Lebanonization of Somalia.
This is the Libyan scenario in the Horn.
This is the undoing of two decades of international investment—in slow motion.

A Vacuum Waiting to Be Filled by Fire

When political institutions collapse, the vacuum is never empty for long.
Somalia knows this painfully well.

Al-Shabaab, ISIS, and emerging extremist networks thrive in fractured environments:

Rival governments

Distracted politicians

Broken national command structure

Distrust between regions

Security fragmentation

This political meltdown is not simply dangerous—it is fatal.

Extremists do not need permission; they only need opportunity.
President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud is giving them that opportunity on a silver platter.

WDM’s Appeal to the International Community: DO NOT BE COMPLICIT THROUGH SILENCE

The world has invested billions in Somali recovery.
Billions.
Monetary investments, security support, development programs, and political stabilization missions.

All of that now stands at the brink of liquidation.

WDM issues this urgent and uncompromising appeal to:

The United Nations

The African Union / ATMIS

IGAD

The United States

The European Union

The United Kingdom

Turkey

The Gulf States

International partners and global democratic forces

Silence at this moment is complicity.
Your hesitation will be interpreted as approval of an illegal power grab.
Your inaction will accelerate Somalia’s descent into chaos.
Your neutrality will be remembered as abandonment.

Somalia does not need more statements.
Somalia needs decisive international engagement to prevent a total state rupture.

A Call to Somali People With Common Sense

WDM also appeals directly to the Somali public:
the thinkers, the elders, the business community, the youth, the mothers, the diaspora, and those who still believe in the federal vision.

This is your country.
This is your future.
Your silence is giving permission to a political elite determined to wreck the nation for personal survival.

Now is the moment to speak, organize, pressure, demand, and mobilize.
Once the country fractures into parallel governments, it will not be repaired for generations.

Conclusion: Somalia Still Has a Chance—but Not for Long

Somalia is balancing on a razor’s edge.
One wrong political decision, one illegitimate mandate extension, one reckless manoeuvre—and the entire federal system will crumble.

WDM warns, in the clearest terms:
Somalia is entering an irreversible danger zone.
Preventing national collapse is still possible, but only if action is taken now, not after the damage is done.

WDM urges the world community and all Somali citizens with conscience to resist this slide into darkness before the country crosses the final red line.

History will judge all who remained silent.

WDM – Speaking Truth to Power.

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(WDM Edition — No Mercy, No Makeup, No Illusions)

Cue the drums. Light the torches. Release the clowns.
The great Somali political circus is back in town for the 2026 election season — and like every cheap, recycled travelling show, the script hasn’t changed since Siyad Barre rode this horse into the ground. The faces age, the slogans mutate, the logos get rebranded, but the disease remains fatal and untreated: Somalia’s political class isn’t trying to save the nation — only to seize the keys to Villa Somalia and loot whatever organs are still functioning.

Let the masquerade begin.

Act I: The Pretenders Take the Stage

On one side is DamulJadiid, the only faction in Somalia that actually knows how to organize, manipulate, and execute a long game. They are the engine behind a leader whose shadow dreams of a third term are becoming less shadowy by the day — a political ghost haunting Somalia’s already haunted house.

Opposing them is a collection of “coalitions” so flimsy they could be blown away by a desert breeze. These groups don’t resemble political movements; they resemble counselling groups for failed candidates:

• Nabad & Nolol (N&N)

Mohamed Abdullahi Farmaajo has returned to Banadir like a man testing bathwater in a public toilet. Is it warm enough? Are the loyalties for sale? Are old allies still alive — or alive enough to bribe?

• Golaha Samatabixinta — “The Salvation Council”

Because nothing screams “We have no plan” like slapping the word “salvation” on a group of career politicians who couldn’t save a houseplant.

• Golaha Mustaqbalka — “The Future Council”

A name vague enough to be a telecom company or a pyramid scheme. Their only shared “future” is each one imagining himself sitting on the presidential throne while the others serve tea.

These aren’t alliances — they’re holding pens for presidential candidates, ego camps disguised as political coalitions, and tributes to the old “S-fronts” of the 1980s: Same actors, same delusions, same tragic comedy.

Act II: The Courtship — Romance, Lies, and Diaspora Airbnbs

Brace yourselves for a parade of useless “unity meetings” hosted in Nairobi villas, Doha lounges, Ankara hotels, and Dubai’s most forgettable conference rooms.

Watch sworn enemies grin and clutch hands for the camera, each eyeing the other like a hyena deciding which limb to amputate first.

Press releases will thunder about:

“Historic agreements”

“A new dawn for Somalia”

“Unified vision”

Meanwhile, every signatory will be secretly on WhatsApp with his foreign financiers whispering:
“Don’t worry, I’m still running. These other fools are just temporary luggage.”

Act III: The Auction — Somalia Goes to the Highest Bidder

This is when the real entertainment begins.

MPs-to-be — Somalia’s infamous “electoral college” — transform overnight into political livestock whose market price skyrockets by the hour. Suitcases shuffle through airports. Dollar-shaped halos form above candidate heads. Ministries are promised like bags of sugar.

Ideas? Zero.
Policy? Non-existent.
Reform? Stop dreaming.

This is a nationwide auction where loyalty is sold by the kilo, and every candidate believes he’s the master bidder — not realizing he’s also for sale.

Act IV: The Betrayal — Somalia’s National Sport

Then comes the inevitable crescendo.

A prominent N&N figure will “find religion” and defect to DamulJadiid “for the sake of national unity.”

A member of the “Future Council” will suddenly rediscover the past — specifically whichever past alliance pays better.

The “Salvation Council” will split into more pieces than Mogadishu’s roads.

The so-called opposition will collapse into its natural state:
a stampede of self-propelled egos racing toward individual deals with whoever offers a ministry, a motorcade, and a microphone.

Meanwhile, in the Real Somalia…

While the elites binge on political seduction and betrayal:

Al-Shabaab continues to tax, slaughter, and administer justice.

Droughts tighten the noose.

Displaced families rot in tent cities.

The economy limps along like a wounded camel.

Youth flee — by sea, by plane, or by coffin.

But none of this matters in the Masquerade. Somalia’s suffering is merely a prop in campaign speeches — a decorative tragedy wheeled onstage when convenient, shoved offstage when the applause fades.

The Final Tragedy

The real catastrophe is not that this grotesque performance happens.
It is that Somalis have learned to expect it.

This is not a political process — it is a metronome of dysfunction, a perpetual farce replayed with religious precision every election cycle.

The actors are the same.
The excuses are the same.
The delusions are the same.
The ending is the same.

And the losers — without exception — are the Somali people.

So grab your popcorn.
The Great Somali Masquerade is underway again.
Place your bets.
The clowns are ready.
The stage is collapsing.
And the audience — long-suffering, long-ignored — is left praying the circus burns itself down before the country does.

—–

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Tel/WhatsApp: +252 90 703 4081.