In a
famous true story, a young Italian musician did the unthinkable: He challenged
his mentor, the great maestro Arturo Toscanini, with an unexpected fusillade.
"With regard to Toscanini, the maestro," said the young man, "I
bow my head in respect. However,” he continued, "with regard to Toscanini,
the man…" The young man then proceeded to take off his shoe and started
assaulting the maestro.
Recently, there was a public debate about the case of Somaliland. Professor Ahmed Ismael Samatar, of Macalester College, was one of four speakers participating in the debate. Each invited speaker was allotted 15 minutes to speak. Samatar went over his time, and when the organizer politely told him his time was up, the good professor was furious and mumbled that he had yet to present the gist of his speech. What happened next was beyond comprehension. Samatar sat down in disgust and refused to participate. A gentleman implored the professor to participate in the discussion, but Samatar was indignant about the way he had been treated. "They [the organizers] invited us," the professor protested, "and they do not know how to run the debate." The audience was still reeling from shock when the question-and-answer session commenced. Some of the audience took clear shots at Samatar for his support of Somaliland after many years of lambasting the secessionist region. Not long ago, Samatar, who hails from the north, was a prominent unionist who had worked hard for the unity of Somalia.
Samatar’s career has been consistent and strongly nationalistic. As a young broadcaster for the BBC’s Somali Services in the 1960s, Samatar would conclude the half-hour broadcast with the proclamation, "Soomaaliya ha noolato," (Long live Somalia), thereby breaking the journalistic code of neutrality and objectivity. However, Samatar today is singing a new tune, one of secession and the disintegration of Somalia’s territorial integrity. The professor’s firm belief in the unity of Somalia, a belief that spanned five decades, has gone with the wind. Now, many Somalis are asking themselves how someone who stood so strongly for Somali unity has suddenly converted to secessionism.
What many people forget is there are two sides of Samatar: Samatar the intellectual and Samatar the politician. Unfortunately, these two sides have been unable to reconcile, and hence have led to his undoing. Political scientists do not make good politicians, just as medical doctors do not make good patients. Samatar has been teaching politics for more than three decades, yet this extensive teaching experience did not necessarily mean the learned professor possesses effective political skills. He made a faux pas of misreading the intention of Somali legislators who were selecting the president in 2012. Before Samatar’s candidacy for office, he and his colleagues formed a political party, “Hiil Qaran." He then ran for the Somali presidency but failed miserably to even make it to the second round of the election. Samatar once again misread the political situation, which he knew was based on an unfair political power arrangement that favored the two biggest clans in Somalia. Moreover, the eventual winner of the presidency, Hassan S. Mohamoud, had made a secret deal with Samatar: whoever wins the presidency would make the other his prime minister. Mohamoud, it turned out, had made similar promises to other candidates and instead chose an inexperienced premier like him.
I was one of the first commentators to ask President Mohamoud to appoint Samatar as his premier or appoint him the foreign minister. Samatar did not get either position. He left Mogadishu sullen and bitter. To him, the political system had betrayed him. His position as an intellectual and an avowed northern nationalist became a liability in a political environment that favored one's clan affiliation, rather than what one could do for the country. Samatar struck a defiant note, condemning informal power sharing, and used his position as a parliamentarian to rail against injustice and corruption.
Then, Samatar shocked many Somalis when he resigned from parliament and started endorsing Somaliland’s quest for statehood. The secessionists glowed with pride and welcomed Samatar like a prodigal son, who had finally come home. Other Somalis were incessantly critical of his betrayal and self-serving political position. Some wondered if Samatar, who couldn't get elected as president in Mogadishu, naively thought he would have better luck in Hargeisa. Samatar's lame excuse for changing his stance was what he called “the prevalence of political corruption” and unfair power sharing in Mogadishu. Not surprisingly, Samatar drew exceptional mockery from many unionists. The man whom Somalis always welcomed in political debates and on the lecture circuit, suddenly found himself unwanted and without luster.
Against this backdrop, the political debate held in Minneapolis two weeks ago coincided with Samatar’s growing irrelevance and the expression of public indignation at his support for secessionist Somaliland. Samatar's treatment in the debate was a not-so-subtle repudiation of him and his politics. The organizers of the debate and the audience seemed elated when the good professor further embarrassed himself, pouted, and acted like little Oliver Twist asking for more food; in this instance, more time. His petulant actions at the event accelerated his slide from political stature to political ignominy. Samatar had a hard time understanding why nobody cared what he had to say. The once- exceptional public speaker sat silently at the podium with the other speakers, refusing to answer questions directed at him until finally he couldn't take it anymore and left. It was like watching a train wreck. Surprisingly, his departure was greeted with indifference. A young man from the Awdal region lamented how Samatar "his uncle" had a penchant for leaving debates once he had lost an argument. The young man was wrong: Samatar had lost long before the debate had even started. The audience had already tuned out what he had to say. They had heard his explanations for leaving Somalia’s cause in favor of Somaliland. And they had heard enough.
Samatar is an intellectual among Somalis, and no one -- unionist or secessionist -- can take that away from him. But Samatar, the politician, now stands on his own without a pedestal, unseen, unheard, and increasingly irrelevant.
Recently, there was a public debate about the case of Somaliland. Professor Ahmed Ismael Samatar, of Macalester College, was one of four speakers participating in the debate. Each invited speaker was allotted 15 minutes to speak. Samatar went over his time, and when the organizer politely told him his time was up, the good professor was furious and mumbled that he had yet to present the gist of his speech. What happened next was beyond comprehension. Samatar sat down in disgust and refused to participate. A gentleman implored the professor to participate in the discussion, but Samatar was indignant about the way he had been treated. "They [the organizers] invited us," the professor protested, "and they do not know how to run the debate." The audience was still reeling from shock when the question-and-answer session commenced. Some of the audience took clear shots at Samatar for his support of Somaliland after many years of lambasting the secessionist region. Not long ago, Samatar, who hails from the north, was a prominent unionist who had worked hard for the unity of Somalia.
Samatar’s career has been consistent and strongly nationalistic. As a young broadcaster for the BBC’s Somali Services in the 1960s, Samatar would conclude the half-hour broadcast with the proclamation, "Soomaaliya ha noolato," (Long live Somalia), thereby breaking the journalistic code of neutrality and objectivity. However, Samatar today is singing a new tune, one of secession and the disintegration of Somalia’s territorial integrity. The professor’s firm belief in the unity of Somalia, a belief that spanned five decades, has gone with the wind. Now, many Somalis are asking themselves how someone who stood so strongly for Somali unity has suddenly converted to secessionism.
What many people forget is there are two sides of Samatar: Samatar the intellectual and Samatar the politician. Unfortunately, these two sides have been unable to reconcile, and hence have led to his undoing. Political scientists do not make good politicians, just as medical doctors do not make good patients. Samatar has been teaching politics for more than three decades, yet this extensive teaching experience did not necessarily mean the learned professor possesses effective political skills. He made a faux pas of misreading the intention of Somali legislators who were selecting the president in 2012. Before Samatar’s candidacy for office, he and his colleagues formed a political party, “Hiil Qaran." He then ran for the Somali presidency but failed miserably to even make it to the second round of the election. Samatar once again misread the political situation, which he knew was based on an unfair political power arrangement that favored the two biggest clans in Somalia. Moreover, the eventual winner of the presidency, Hassan S. Mohamoud, had made a secret deal with Samatar: whoever wins the presidency would make the other his prime minister. Mohamoud, it turned out, had made similar promises to other candidates and instead chose an inexperienced premier like him.
I was one of the first commentators to ask President Mohamoud to appoint Samatar as his premier or appoint him the foreign minister. Samatar did not get either position. He left Mogadishu sullen and bitter. To him, the political system had betrayed him. His position as an intellectual and an avowed northern nationalist became a liability in a political environment that favored one's clan affiliation, rather than what one could do for the country. Samatar struck a defiant note, condemning informal power sharing, and used his position as a parliamentarian to rail against injustice and corruption.
Then, Samatar shocked many Somalis when he resigned from parliament and started endorsing Somaliland’s quest for statehood. The secessionists glowed with pride and welcomed Samatar like a prodigal son, who had finally come home. Other Somalis were incessantly critical of his betrayal and self-serving political position. Some wondered if Samatar, who couldn't get elected as president in Mogadishu, naively thought he would have better luck in Hargeisa. Samatar's lame excuse for changing his stance was what he called “the prevalence of political corruption” and unfair power sharing in Mogadishu. Not surprisingly, Samatar drew exceptional mockery from many unionists. The man whom Somalis always welcomed in political debates and on the lecture circuit, suddenly found himself unwanted and without luster.
Against this backdrop, the political debate held in Minneapolis two weeks ago coincided with Samatar’s growing irrelevance and the expression of public indignation at his support for secessionist Somaliland. Samatar's treatment in the debate was a not-so-subtle repudiation of him and his politics. The organizers of the debate and the audience seemed elated when the good professor further embarrassed himself, pouted, and acted like little Oliver Twist asking for more food; in this instance, more time. His petulant actions at the event accelerated his slide from political stature to political ignominy. Samatar had a hard time understanding why nobody cared what he had to say. The once- exceptional public speaker sat silently at the podium with the other speakers, refusing to answer questions directed at him until finally he couldn't take it anymore and left. It was like watching a train wreck. Surprisingly, his departure was greeted with indifference. A young man from the Awdal region lamented how Samatar "his uncle" had a penchant for leaving debates once he had lost an argument. The young man was wrong: Samatar had lost long before the debate had even started. The audience had already tuned out what he had to say. They had heard his explanations for leaving Somalia’s cause in favor of Somaliland. And they had heard enough.
Samatar is an intellectual among Somalis, and no one -- unionist or secessionist -- can take that away from him. But Samatar, the politician, now stands on his own without a pedestal, unseen, unheard, and increasingly irrelevant.
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