Somali Elections: The HirShabelle Conundrum

The Somali federal government, the leaders of the federal member states, and the federal parliament have agreed to hold indirect elections in 2020/2021 instead of following the one-person-one vote principle. The coming elections will resemble the 2016, in which a confluence of tribal chieftains, money, foreign influences, and federal government meddling were integral. HirShabelle state is already experiencing a tense political struggle, with old political agreements among clans being challenged and new alliances being formed. The situation there is becoming the stomping ground of a power struggle between President Mohamed Farmajo and his rival, former president Sheikh Sharif Ahmed.

Old Politics, New Realities

When the new state of HirShabelle was founded four years ago, clan leaders adopted a power-sharing agreement. The Xawadle clan was given the presidency, the Abgaal clan was given the vice presidency and capital, and the Gaaljecel clan was given the speaker of the state legislator. The arrangement proved to be a patchwork and not a solid framework that pleased the competing clans. The agreement initially worked even though serious grievances persisted. Now that the country is preparing for federal and state elections, old wounds are reopening and attempts are being made to rectify perceived injustices or unfairness.

Ali Abdullahi Hussein “Guudlaawe” (Abgaal) has been the vice president of HirShabelle and is now a candidate for the state presidency. His candidacy is supported by President Mohamed Farmajo and Fahad Yasin, the director of the National Intelligence and Security Agency (NISA). When Goodlaawe landed in Jowhar two weeks ago, he declared that any individual or group with grievances should come to Jowhar, the state capital, to talk over their problems. His candidacy is seen as an obvious challenge to the Xawadle clan’s dominance over the presidency.

Guudlaawe’s candidacy unnerved politicians like Ali Abdullahi Osoble, the former president of HirShabelle, who sees it as the marginalization of the Xawadle and the reneging on a gentleman’s agreement between clan elders. Osoble threatened the formation of a different HirShabelle state administration based in Beledweyne. Challenging the Xawadle presidency, Osoble said, was akin to questioning the Majerteen leadership in Puntland and the Habar Gidir in Galmudug. “Imagine a Dhulbahante president in Puntland and a Majerteen speaker,” he exclaimed.

Farmajo’s strategy in supporting Guudlaawe is an attempt to stave off two of his leading rivals, former presidents Hassan Sheikh Mohamoud and Sheikh Sharif Ahmed, who are Abgaal. Guudlaawe, if elected, will be in a position to help in the selection of federal parliamentarians from HirShabelle, who in turn will select the president of the country. Former president Sheikh Sharif is scheduled to visit Jowhar and is expected to vigorously challenge any attempts to install Guudlaawe in the state presidency. Ironically, the two belong to the same Harti Abgaal subclan. Guudlaawe is a former aide to the late former warlord and mayor of Mogadishu Mohamed Dheere. Shaikh Sharif has recently returned from the United Arab Emirates and his supporters say that he is not financially strapped as was rumored several months ago. There were fears that the former president was not in a position to challenge Farmajo in the presidential elections.

Farmajo’s strategy to support Guudlaawe is a recipe for Xawadle alienation and the possible disintegration of HirShabelle. The Xawadle feel that they are being denied the power of the presidency and their leaders have declared that they might walk out of the state government. The environment in Beledweyne is ripe for nurturing such a grievance. Their critics maintain that the presidency should not be reserved for specific clan.

Security Concerns

There is little development taking place in HirShabelle because there are areas under the control of Al-Shabaab. The presence of this militant group adds more complexity to what was already a tortured, long-shot process of state building. Although Jowhar is 90 km north of Mogadishu, one has to fly there because of the insecurity of the road that connects the two cities. Only a week ago, some government officials were flying between Balcad, a city 54 km away, and Jowhar. In essence, the HirShabelle administration is only in charge of cities that are surrounded by the radical Islamic group.

On October 28, the local chieftains selected 90 officials to serve as state legislators. The selection of the remaining nine members of the assembly will come next. The speed at which the new legislature was selected was astonishing. There are reports that the federal government was instrumental in airlifting both the chieftains and future legislators from Mogadishu. The Xawadle leaders are grumbling that they had not been consulted about the formation of the new legislature. It is not clear how effective the new legislature will be. The last legislature was weak and rarely met because many of the legislators spent most of their time in Mogadishu. Osman Barre, speaker of the legislature, did not set foot in Jowhar for six months. Moreover, 66 of the 99 lawmakers were members of the state council of ministers.

HirShabelle is a microcosm of the broader failure of state building in the country. It is a region in which clan politics is acute, and flimsy views of governance reign supreme. It suffers from a lack of development, the marginalization of women, and being stuck with politicians who keep on failing. Moreover, there is clear and present danger from the Al-Shabaab radical group. It is a region that the federal government sees as merely as a battlefield for election manipulation. It will take another four years before the leaders of the federal government pay any attention.

Dad in the Delivery Room: A Help or a Hindrance?

When a woman is giving birth, should a father be allowed in the delivery room against the mother’s wishes?

A New Jersey court ruled in December 31, 2014 that during the birth of their child, a mother has every right not to let the father in the delivery room. Judge Suhail Mohammed wrote, “Any interest a father has before the child’s birth is subordinate to the mother’s interest.”

Perhaps a bit of background is in order. Rebecca DeLuccia and Steven Plotnick were engaged when DeLuccia got pregnant. The couple planned that Plotnick would be actively involved in the baby’s birth. However, as DeLuccia’s pregnancy advanced, the couple split, and Plotnick became convinced he would not be able to witness the birth of his child. Accordingly, he filed a lawsuit claiming DeLuccia was not planning to inform him when she went into labor, nor would she let him sign the child’s birth certificate. Further, Plotnick said she would not allow him to be present during delivery. DeLuccia denied the first two claims but said she would “request her privacy in the delivery room.” DeLuccia promised that Plotnick could visit the child after delivery. Plotnick was furious and insisted on being present during the delivery.

Judge Mohammed sided with DeLuccia citing New Jersey and federal laws that protect the rights of a hospital patient. Mohammed added that Plotnick’s presence in the delivery room could “add to an already stressful situation,” in a manner that “could endanger both the mother and the fetus.”

I must admit, Plotnick is an intriguing character. He had the audacity to sue his former fiancé so he could be in the birth room. Many men might steer clear of the birth chamber; others might beg their insistent wives to be excused from attending the delivery. I have a personal story about this subject. 

Three decades ago, my then-wife (God bless her soul) and I attended a pregnancy class called “Lamaze.” The class was conducted by a nurse named Pamela, a no-nonsense woman in her 40s who grew up in Ohio. My wife, a native of Michigan, got along well with Pam, who seemed a bit cool toward me. Perhaps it had to do with her difficulty understanding my accent. She knew I was an international student attending Ohio University. Her aloofness could also have been because she sensed something about me—namely, my indifference to her class and its purpose. She was absolutely right. Frankly, I was not a believer in the Lamaze method.

The technique originated in France and was developed by French obstetrician Ferdinand Lamaze. It is a set of techniques that help women cope with pain during labor and delivery rather than resorting to medical intervention. It involves breathing and relaxation techniques and other natural ways to relieve pain. My wife read about Lamaze and became a fan. When she told me about it, I thought the whole idea was bizarre, but decided to support her. I went along with the idea of attending the class twice a week. I believed that when the time for the delivery came, all these pain-relieving techniques would go out the window. Four or five couples were in our class, so each couple worked as a team during practice, with the idea that they would do so during delivery. The class, which cost a few hundred dollars, was helpful in learning the process of labor and delivery and assuaged our fears about the new adventure of giving birth.

We attended the class religiously for a few weeks. Pam was an excellent instructor and motivator. After several weeks of instruction, we graduated and decided to hold an appreciation dinner for Pam at Pizza Hut. I was happy that the class was over and felt relieved, but I also knew that the baby was due soon.

D-Day arrived one or two months later. It was December 3 when my wife and I headed to O’Bleness Hospital in Athens, Ohio. The labor was intense, slow, and plodding. It was the middle of the night when it came time to deliver. Nurses, assistant nurses, a physician, and I were in the delivery room. The environment was chaotic. It was loud with too many bright lights. In the midst of all the clamor, I panicked. I started to sweat profusely and felt faint. I was experiencing a panic attack. The doctor noticed my discomfort and came to my aid. He told me it was OK to go outside if I wanted. It was obvious I was a liability in the delivery room—perhaps he did not want to have a second patient on his hands. I went outside but stayed near the delivery suite. All my efforts to learn and master breathing techniques in our Lamaze class had come to naught. Shortly, my baby daughter arrived in the world crying and screaming, and I suddenly forgot all about my stress, anxiety, and—most of all—how I cracked under pressure.

In April 15, 2008, I read an article in The Mail, a British newspaper, in which leading French obstetrician Michel Odent expressed his disapproval of men being in the delivery room. After 50 years of experience as a medical doctor with 15,000 deliveries under his belt, Odent finally came out and advised men to stay away from the delivery suite. In the 1950s, it was unheard of for men to be part of the delivery. However, since the 1970s, it has become acceptable for men to participate in the childbirth process. It is now common in the West for men to be next to their partners as they deliver. Interestingly, Odent viewed this as a bad idea. “The presence of men in the delivery room is not always a positive thing,” he argued. “[The husband’s] presence is a hindrance, and a significant factor [for] why labors are longer, more painful and more likely to result in intervention than ever.” It is impossible, he said, for a woman to feel relaxed when her husband, as tense and stressed as he can be, stands next to her and attempts to soothe her. Moreover, there are some men, Odent added, who are “at risk of being unwell or depressed due to having seen their partners labor.”

Dr. Odent spoke up a tad late for men like me. I could have used his recommendation a couple of decades ago. I come from a conservative culture that views the presence of men in the delivery room as taboo. While it is a personal choice, of course, I find myself agreeing with Dr. Odent. It is much better for men to wait outside and express their loving support before and after delivery. There are certain things women do better when they do them alone.

Abdirahman Hashi: The Cost of Confronting Corruption

Abdirahman Mohamed Abdi Hashi believes he is a fortunate man.

“I have had certain opportunities in life that many of my peers did not get,” he said.

Those opportunities included education in the United States immediately after his high school graduation, employment at prestigious U.S. and international firms, and the rare prize of attaining a doctorate in economics.

“By the time I came back to Somalia in 2012, I realized I had not worked in Somalia,” he said. Little did he know that, four years later, he would become a federal minister for fisheries and marine resources—a job that would bring challenges and letdowns he had not expected.

Hashi comes from a family steeped in politics: his father, Mohamed Abdi Hashi, was one of the principal founders of Puntland and had served as vice president and president of the regional government. Hashi was born in Sheikh in northern Somalia in 1955. As a child, he attended Quranic school and elementary school in Lasa Anod. Afterward, the family moved to Mogadishu, where he finished his intermediate schooling at Media Centrale and his high school at Benadir Secondary School.

In 1977, Hashi arrived in New York and enrolled at Pace University. In spite of a tuition waiver, he had to work hard in order to pay for his living expenses.

In the 1980s, he began working at various financial heavyweight corporations such as Price Coopers Waterhouse and Citibank at their headquarters in New York, as well as the famed investment banking firm of Solomon Brothers.

In 1989, Hashi moved to Washington, D.C where he began a 15-year career with the World Bank. As a Certified Public Accountant (CPA) with master’s degrees in economics and finance, he strived to improve his lot and go further in expanding his knowledge. Hashi went to school and earned a doctorate in economics from George Mason University with a specialization in monetary and international economics. In 2013, he published a book, Islamic Banking: Study in Shaky Times, which explains Islamic finance and compares the stability of conventional banks with those of Islamic banks.

In 2012, Hashi’s return to Mogadishu was full of energy and verve. He wanted to make a change in his native country and decided to run for the presidency.

“I knew my victory in the elections was far-fetched,” he said, laughing, “but developing my campaign platform and presenting a cohesive political and economic program for Somalia was worthwhile

In early 2017, Somalia elected a new president in Mohamed Farmajo, and Hashi was appointed as the Minister of Fisheries and Marine Resources. He had another responsibility in the Secretariat of the Economic Committee in the Council of Ministers, a body which oversees and coordinates the work of 12 ministries.

  

Hashi knew he had a herculean task before him. He was put in charge of a ministry in a country  that experienced two decades of civil war, anarchy, piracy, an endemic culture of apathy for fishing, and the absence of fishing cooperatives. Moreover, Somalia’s coastline, which is estimated to be about 3,300 km long with an Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ) over a million square miles, has always faced one deleterious problem: Illegal, Unreported and Unregulated (IUU) fishing. “The country loses between $300 to $600 million every year due to IUU fishing,” Hashi said. China, Iran, Yemen, Egypt, France, the Netherlands, and Spain are among the biggest offenders. Among many other problems, Hashi saw an urgent need for robust naval capabilities such as a coast guard, at least 10 navy patrol vessels, skilled manpower, and the political will to make the best and right decisions.

Additionally, there was the thorny issue between the federal government and the federal member states. The Provincial Constitution is explicit in resource-sharing. Up to 12 nautical miles belongs to the regions; 12 to 24 nautical miles are within a grey zone; and 24 to 200 nautical miles are federal responsibility. Since the administration of President Hassan S. Mohamoud, negotiations have bogged down between the federal government and the federal member states in fisheries licenses revenue-sharing because Puntland wanted a share almost similar to that of the federal government. In February 2018, Hashi proposed an interim fisheries agreement in which all the monies from the issuance of federal licenses would be deposited in the Central Bank and then it would be divided between the federal government and the regional governments based on consensus. Incidentally, this interim fisheries agreement is in effect now and is the basis for the 30 fishing licenses that have been issued to Chinese companies since Hashi’s departure.

“Illegal fishing in our shores is the most challenging problem we have,” Hashi said.

Many foreign ships roam Somalia’s coast exploiting fish and marine resources without being stopped and questioned. Among these are the super trawlers or factory trawlers, which are banned in many parts of the world because they threaten the natural habitat of fish and cause overfishing. These ships have the capacity to stay at sea for weeks, catch fish, process them, freeze them, and store them. They may also be involved in illegal activities such as drug smuggling, human trafficking, and toxic waste dumping. “On the Somali coastline, some of these trawlers have used Vietnamese and Cambodian crews as forced labor,” Hashi explained.

Bottom trawling is a method used by these factory trawlers to scoop fish from the seabed thereby damaging the marine ecosystem and depleting fishery. “Some of these trawlers have managed to extirpate mangroves in our coast and ship them back to their countries like China does,” Hashi said. Legally, the trawlers are not allowed along Somalia’s coastline, but Puntland, a regional government, allows them to fish in its region even though Puntland’s fishery laws prohibit them.

Specifically, there have been seven trawler ships registered in Thailand that have been violating Puntland’s coast. Oddly, these ships carry fishing licenses issued by Puntland and hence operate between 24 and 200 nautical miles in Somalia’s exclusive economic zone in clear violation of federal laws. At some point, these ships conveniently secured Djiboutian flags, thanks to lobbying by Abdiweli Gaas , the former head of the Puntland regional government to fish in Puntland. When Djibouti discovered about the Interpol pursuing these ships, it withdrew its flag. Ironically, the ships found flags from an unexpected place: Mogadishu. The federal Ministry of Ports and Marine Transport allowed them to use Somali flags. When Hashi found out, he documented the incident and reported the matter to Ahmed Ali Dahir, then the country’s Attorney General. Dahir met with President Farmajo at Villa Somalia, the seat of the presidency, and the flags were withdrawn from the foreign ships.

On May 3, 2017, Hashi said that Thailand had contacted the Somali federal government to inquire about a ship in its territory with a fishing license issued by Puntland. The Ministry of Fisheries and Marine Resources responded that any fishing licenses not issued by the federal government of Somalia are null and void. Thailand’s response was swift and decisive: it seized the ship. That is when Abdiweli Gaas complained to President Farmajo that Hashi and his ministry were hurting the interests of Puntland businessmen who had a stake in the seized Thai ship.

It is important to note that there are 6,000 ships registered in Thailand, which bring in an annual fishing revenue of $300 billion to that country. Most of the fish are exported to the European Union (EU), however, there have been serious allegations of these Thai-owned ships being involved in illegal fishing, human trafficking, and other shady activities. According to Hashi, The EU issued a yellow card to Thailand to curb illegal activities by these ships or face serious commercial consequences. Thailand began monitoring these ships and taking legal actions against them. “In fact, Thailand wanted to help Somalia to fight illegal fishing and was telling the EU that it was aiding us,” Hashi said.

Hashi also said he was pleased with Thailand’s bold actions in seizing the ship, which had a merchandise of fish illegally caught along Somalia’s coastline. “We were sending a message to the world that Somalia will not tolerate the exploitation of its coast,” he said. The president of Puntland and his associates were adding pressure to the Ministry of Fisheries and Marine Resources and Villa Somalia to cease its activity of waging a campaign against the Thai-owned ships. President Farmajo was walking a tight rope: he needed the support of the regional governments, particularly Puntland, which had tense relations with the federal government.

The president, the prime minister, and the federal government leaders attempted to circumvent Hashi by directly contacting Thailand. For instance, Yusuf Garaad, then Somalia’s Foreign Minister, wrote a letter to the Thai government asking for the release of the seized ship. According to Hashi, the Thai government became concerned about the foreign ministry’s correspondence, as the matter of the seized ship was not its purview.

Hashi said he had briefed Prime Minister Hassan Kheire about the seized ship, and the premier was initially supportive of Hashi’s stand. “When I told Khaire about my actions in asking Thailand to hold the ship, he became animated and started using his flowery language that it was the end of illegal fishing in Somalia,” Hashi said. He characterized the prime minister as “negatively genius.” When the premier saw the goodwill Hashi had developed with Thailand, he wanted the minister to ease on the seized ship and let it go, but Hashi refused. In essence, Farmajo was capitulating to Gaas’ pressure and demands. Gaas was howling and the noise from Villa Somalia deafening. Amid the cacophony, Hashi found himself in the center of the storm. Ironically, the firing of Hashi came at an opportune time when the leaders of the federal government and regional leaders had a gathering in Garowe, the capital of Puntland.

Hashi was quietly relieved of his position as the Minister of Fisheries and Marine Resources. Mahad Guled, Deputy Prime Minister of Somalia, gave a statement praising Hashi for his dedication, hard work, and superb knowledge. No word was ever issued on the real reason behind Hashi’s job termination. In the end, President Farmajo had caved in to appease those figures in Somalia who had no qualms about seeing their country exploited. Obviously, political expediency prevailed on the part of Farmajo. As Hashi said, “The need for political will is paramount in fighting illegal fishing in our coastline.” The work he said he was trying to do at the Ministry of Fisheries and Marine Resources—which are the core principle of tapping into the country’s natural wealth, investing in its coast, generating revenue to alleviate poverty, and aiming at self-sufficiency—were  undermined by our leaders. “Unfortunately, personal gain by some leaders became more important than the national interest,” Hashi said.

Baadiyow and Somaliland: A Tale of a Statement

On May 18, 1991, the Somali National Movement (SNM) declared the secession of the  northern region of Somalia from the rest of the country—a declaration that was met by a chorus of criticism and condemnation. Particular among these critics was the Islamic Movement of Somalia, which produced a four-page statement in Arabic lashing out against the SNM. The statement was signed by Abdirahman M. Abdullahi “Baadiyow of the IMS’ Information Office in Canada. The statement was  harsh, conspiratorial, and nationalistic in tenor. It questioned the SNM’s motivation and suggested links with dubious foreign countries. The statement also called for unity among Somalis and the urgent need to seek reconciliation through peaceful means to end tribal conflicts, divisions, and the civil war engulfing the country.

Dr. Baadiyow, a senior advisor for peace and reconciliation for Prime Minister Hassan Kheire, has been prominent among the leaders of the Islah Movement (formerly the Islamic Movement of Somalia). He is one of the founders of Mogadishu University, a former presidential candidate in 2012, and a graduate of Canada’s McGill University, where he earned his doctorate in Islamic History. He has been a leading civil society activist who has conducted extensive research and work on the subject of peace and reconciliation. Last year, President Mohamed Farmajo appointed him as a member of the Somali government’s committee for talks with Somaliland.

The IMS statement, titled, “A Declaration of the Islamic Movement of Somalia regarding the Attempt to Divide the Country,” condemned the SNM as a secessionist movement bent on dividing the country in accordance with the “dirty” plan of the European colonial powers. The secessionist movement, the statement read, even used the name “Somali Land” for the self-declared government, a direct translation of the very name the British colonial government had used for that part of the country.

By following the colonial design, which divided Somalia into five parts, the statement continued, the SNM was taking the country back to the pre-1960 era before Somalia gained independence. The IMS also claimed that the hand of “foreign actors” was at work in the SNM’s decision to secede, and especially Ethiopia and what it called the “Jewish entity” of interfering in Somalia’s affairs. These two entities, it said, were not in favor of “seeing Somalia united.” Therefore, the SNM’s action was “impetuous” legally invalid, and contrary to custom and logic.

The statement asked all Somali people to unite against the SNM and “encircle” the secessionist movement because the secession plans were illegitimate. The statement added that Somalis are homogenous people with the same culture, religion, and language. Moreover, the SNM was wrong to claim the north suffered from more repression than other parts of the country. President Siad Barre, it said, had the same policy of repression against the Somalis under his tyrannical regime.

The real motivation of the SNM, the statement said, was to do the bidding of the interests of the Somali people’s enemies. In addition, the secessionist movement had originated in Ethiopia, was  racist, had used tyranny against our people in the north, and endeavored to implement the plans of “the enemies of Somalia.”

The Islamic Movement commended the efforts of some Arab countries and the Arab League for supporting the Somali people.
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The IMS statement had two audiences: The Arab world in general and the Islamic movements outside the country, especially the Muslim Brotherhood of which the Somali group is a member.

The use of Arabic was crucial because it conveyed some themes that many Arabic readers can relate to. There was the theme of “Us vs. Them,” the plots being made against the Arab and Muslim world, and the presence of Israel in these evil machinations. Israeli’s backing of a Somali secessionist movement might raise eyebrows and be regarded a poor attempt at peddling a conspiracy theory. Whereas neighboring Ethiopia has had major interests in interfering the affairs of Somalia, the “Jewish entity” has other interest in maintaining good relations with Ethiopia. Since its formation, Israel has always maintained friendly relations with Ethiopia, whether the latter was under a monarchy or Mengistu’s Marxist regime.

Finally, to what extent does the only name on the statement, Dr. Baadiyow’s, affect his current position as the committee appointed to engage talks with the self-declared government of Somaliland?

Last month, General Abdirahman Abdi Hussein “Guulwade,” a member of the reconciliation committee, resigned after he gave an interview in which he agreed how Barre’s regime had reacted in suppressing the SNM’s rebellion in the 1980s. Baadiyow, in an interview with the BBC, called Guulwade’s statement a “personal opinion and not the official position of the Committee.” 

Will Baadiyow reaffirm the contents of the statement as was issued by his group in May 1991 or will he repudiate it?