Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Malawi: President Banda Dogged by Cash-gate and Demands of Re-Election

During Nelson Mandela’s burial ceremony, Malawi President, Joyce Banda, received a standing ovation from foreign dignitaries and the South African audience. She eulogized Mandela and called him “a great reformer.”


A prophet, it is said, is not respected in his home country.

Back in Malawi, Banda is a besieged and bruised leader who has been engulfed by a string of corruption allegations. She came to power last year when President Bingu wa Mutharika, a man who had attempted to fire her from her position as vice president, suddenly died of a heart failure. She became the first female president of Malawi and the second female president in the entire continent of Africa. Banda won accolades and international recognition as she spearheaded a campaign against graft. She sold her government jet, slashed her salary by half, and regained the confidence and the support of Western donors. Her predecessor had denounced foreign donors for meddling in the affairs of the country and trying to topple his regime. He simply told them to “go to hell.” In contrast, Banda courted the donor countries and they rewarded her by releasing frozen aid.

The influential American money magazine Forbes named Banda “the most powerful woman in the world.” Time magazine, not to be outdone, listed her as one of the most influential 100 people on the planet. Banda’s memorable stand against the Sudanese president, Omar al-Bashir, a fugitive of the international court, earned her widespread commendation from the West; she refused to host the African Union’s annual summit if al-Bashir attended.

Recently, the pendulum has swung to the other extreme and the once-lauded Banda has become a politician reviled for her failings. She has become embroiled in a corruption scandal aptly called Cash-gate. Government coffers have been systematically looted by civil servants. A priest of Malawi’s Catholic Church recently called Banda the “greatest thief in the world.” In testimony before the Parliament, Peter Chinoko of the Catholic Commission for Justice and Peace (CCJP) accused President Banda of being “part and parcel” of the Cash-gate scandal. The genesis of the scandal, according to Chinoko, was an attempt by Banda and her supporters to raise funds for the upcoming elections that will take place in May.

The most damning report regarding corruption in Malawi was issued last month by a UK-based Malawian attorney and former presidential legal advisor, Z. Allan Ntata, tersely titled “License to Loot.” The 67-page report is a disparaging assessment of a presidential leadership in which endemic corruption is the norm, not the exception. Speaking in absolute terms, Ntata called the Cash-gate scandal “the biggest fraud case ever recorded in the country.” According to Ntata, corruption is perpetrated by the executive branch and there is an elaborate and deliberate scheme to cover it up. The following are examples of this corruption:

1. An accountant in Banda’s office, Frank Mwanza, authorized a payment of $3 million to a ghost firm.

2. In a police raid, a junior government official, who makes about $100 per month, was found in possession of $25,000.

3. Patrick Sithole, an account assistant in the Ministry of Environment and Climate Change, was arrested in possession of an equivalent of $310,000 in various currencies.

4. Fourteen government officials have been arrested in relation to the Cash-gate scandal.

5. Three months ago, nine police officers were convicted of fraud involving $164,000.

6. The budget director of the finance ministry was shot three times in dubious circumstances to uncover juicy details of the Cash-gate scandal.

Banda issued a curt denial of the allegations of corruption and portrayed herself as a victim of insidious innuendo. In an interview with Al-Jazeerah TV, she tried to obfuscate: “We have not failed [fighting corruption].” Banda shifted the blame to her predecessors by saying that the problems of graft started 15 years earlier. She has refused to declare her own assets or appoint an independent commission to investigate corruption. Currently, all the entities investigating graft—including the Anti-Corruption Bureau, the Financial Intelligence Unit, and the police—report to the president. In October, Banda dismissed her cabinet and then re-instated it save for four ministers.

Western donors have frozen their aid to Malawi, which constitutes 40% of the government’s budget, until February 2014 when the International Monetary Fund will conclude its review. Banda, however, seems unruffled. In an interview with the UK’s Telegraph, she dismissively pointed out that it was not the first time that Western donors had walked away from Malawi. “They [donors] come and go and come and go but we are here, we did not die,” she scoffed.

President Banda is not the first African leader who has become the darling of the international community while at the same time being vilified at home. This bifurcation of trying to appeal to two different yet mutually exclusive audiences is taxing. The Western donations are badly needed and, in many cases, are the key pillars that sustain a developing country like Malawi. However, other domestic factors need to be considered if an African leader like Banda is to survive politically. One drawback of being an international icon is that the status does not necessarily translate into actual votes at home. Banda has been saying the right things to Western donors about fighting corruption and instituting measures of austerity. However, when all is said and done, she is a politician who is concerned about re-election. Staying in power in a semi-democratic country may involve patronage and the greasing of palms. In other words, it involves a set of rules and practices that may not be acceptable in the countries that provide aid. It is, perhaps, this dilemma of reconciling one’s international standing and the reality of politics at home that is haunting President Banda.

(Reprinted with permission from African Arguments).

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

12 Years in Somali Prison: The Forgotten Senegalese Prisoner


Abdullahi Jama, 60, is a Somali professional in Seattle, Washington. He is a man of medium height who has legal training and is multi-lingual. He speaks Italian, English, Russian, and, of course, Somali fluently. He is a walking encyclopedia having witnessed the historical events of Somalia. He was born in the 1950s in what is now the Somali region of Ethiopia but grew up in Mogadishu.
He was sent to several European countries for officer training and law courses and later reached the rank of colonel in the army. He worked in various government ministries, including a stint in the president’s office under the Siad Barre regime. Amazingly, Jama knows who is who in Somali politics and can regale one with tales from his various sojourns in government.

However, one incident has left a bad taste in his mouth. “It was a scalding moment of embarrassment for the government,” he said. The unusual encounter with a foreigner left a lasting impact on both men. Jama told me he only remembers his first name.
Abdisalam, a young Senegalese freelance writer, came to Mogadishu in 1976 to interview the country’s officials and people.  He was vibrantly intelligent, gregarious, and demonstrated princely manners. Abdisalam was excited to write about Somalia, then an African regime that had adopted socialism. He visited Ethiopia first, and then came to Somalia through Djibouti. Somalia, during that period of heightened ideological fervor and rhetoric, harbored anti-West sentiments, and the officials were suspicious of foreigners. The fear was that some of these foreign visitors were under cover spies commissioned by the American CIA or European governments. As was the custom, Abdisalam was questioned by agents of the Somali National Security, better known by its Italian acronym of NSS.

Abdisalam was a man of mystery to the secret police. He was Senegalese by birth, but his mother was Gambian, thus making him a man of dual nationality. He had visited an arch enemy of Somalia (Ethiopia) and—most damning of all—he was a roving journalist. Somalia’s dictatorial regime did not allow room for free press or give foreign journalists the opportunity to roam the country.

The secret police were at a loss of what to do: They opened a case file on Abdisalam and took him straight to Laanta Buur, a notorious prison 40 kilometers south of Mogadishu. Abdisalam was confused, helpless, and petrified. He was in an alien country and had lost his freedom. He felt that his life was in utter shambles.  No one told him why he was in prison.
That was 1976.

Twelve years later, in 1988, something odd happened. Colonel Jama and Abdisalam came face to face for the first time. Jama was asked to inspect Laanta Buur prison. He was talking to inmates when someone tapped on his shoulder and asked, “Excuse me sir, do you speak English?”
Jama answered, “Yes."

Jama did not expect to encounter a foreign inmate among the Somali prisoners. Moreover, to the officer, Abdisalam did not stand out: A black man, lean-built, and haggard-looking. “Can you help me?” the foreigner requested. “I have been in prison for 12 years and no one has told me why.”
Jama conferred with the man on the side to learn his story. Upon hearing the man’s ordeal, Jama’s face contorted in pain. The Senegalese man seemed oddly relaxed for someone whose life had been taken from him. Jama wondered how this man had spent 12 years in a prison without anyone charging him with a crime or checking on his welfare. It was stunning news that drew incredulous stares. Gasps of disbelief echoed in the corridors of the prison administration. Abdisalam himself could not provide an adequate answer about his presence in the prison. Jama first notified his boss, General Ismail Ismail, the head of the country’s prison bureau. Jama then contacted the NSS to inquire about the man’s case. To his astonishment, the Senegalese man’s file was bare and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There was neither an ongoing investigation nor a closed one, a case of purgatory coming early, only no one knew Abdisalam’s sins.

Furthermore, there had been no entries since the foreigner’s initial arrival date in the country. This was a serious matter and a ghastly tale. Intelligence officers are paid to be suspicious, but this was a case of smart people making elementary mistakes. No one had followed up on the case for 12 years.
President Siad Barre was immediately informed. Barre was shocked and asked for more information about Abdisalam.

The secret agents went through Abdisalam’s luggage and made a discovery, one that turned the case upside down. The Senegalese man had written laudable articles about Barre and his socialist-leaning government.  Some of the clippings of his writings were worn out, others torn, but there was no iota of doubt that the writer was progressive in his ideas and supportive of the regime. Barre ordered Abdisalam released and he was taken to Shabelle Hotel. The International Red Cross was immediately contacted to locate the man’s family. Jama told this writer that the government apologized profusely to Abdisalam and gave him $20,000 in cash as compensation for his ill-treatment. He left the country in 1988. His important message to Somalia was one left unsaid: “I have survived.”
The president of International Red Cross was pleased with Jama and his hard work of doing all the legwork in the process of releasing Abdisalam. Jama received an award from the international organization. “This is the best job recognition and award I have ever received,” said Jama. That, however, did not provide solace for how badly he felt about the case. ”It is the saddest incidence that I ever witnessed in my long civil service career,” he added.
Sometime in 1988, Abdisalam contacted members of the Somali government and told them he wanted to visit Somalia again. It was not clear whether his request was a sign of Stockholm syndrome—a psychological condition in which one develops positive feelings toward his captor— or whether Abdisalam was  seeking closure to his harrowing ordeal. He was politely advised not to come to Somalia due to the political turmoil the country was experiencing. “No one has heard from him since,” said Jama. “I wonder what he is doing now.”

Like a camera revealing an image, Abdisalam’s case exposed a web of incompetence, cruelty, and a broken system of injustice and accountability. The case was a tale of sadness and tragedy. No one was blamed for the string of catastrophic errors. Jama makes no excuses: “The Somali government messed up, big time,” he laments.
(Reprinted with permission from Sahan Journal, December 11, 2013).

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Crossing Swords: Siad Barre and Professor Said S. Samatar

 You have to know the past to understand the present.”—Carl Sagan

 
It was either in 1984 or 1985 that Siad Barre’s regime was weakening. It was a period not far removed from Somalia’s war with Ethiopia in 1977/1978, a tragic miscalculation by President Barre. Perhaps the aftermath of that costly war is what led to the beginning of the disintegration of the Somali state. A BBC Somali service reporter interviewed Said S. Samatar, then an assistant professor of history at Rutgers University (USA) about the current Somali politics. Samatar, a blunt-spoken man with an air of cynicism, criticized the authoritarian tendencies of Barre and went even further when he mentioned that he had recently met a relative of his in London who was a Somali government official.  According to Professor Samatar, the official was less than optimistic about Barre’s regime, but when another Somali official approached the two his relative was suddenly effusive in his praise of the government. Samatar was mystified by his relative’s change of course. In the BBC interview, Samatar did not mention the name of his relative but, through the process of elimination, it could have been no one but Khalif Muse Samatar, a Leelkase deputy minister. Khalif was at the time the only Leelkase cabinet member in Barre’s government. He later denied being the source of Professor’s Samatar’s story.

Barre was furious with both the BBC and Samatar. The next day, he went to the Academy of Arts and Science in Mogadishu and told the scholars there that they were basically useless and worth nothing. “A young scholar in the U.S. by the name of Said S. Samatar is reigning in the mass media and is being interviewed by the international media while you sit around here,” Barre admonished, according to a member of the Academy who was present in that meeting. Then, Barre went on Radio Mogadishu and blasted Professor Samatar again. This time the dictator’s attack was vicious and personal. “He comes from a small group and a religious family, but this is the same man who had changed his religion [from Islam to Christianity],” Barre said.

Samatar’s kinsmen, the Leelkase, are known to be religious. His father was an Islamic magistrate in Ethiopia even though Samatar did not grow up with him. Samatar was raised in the rural area in what is now the Somali region in Ethiopia. At age 12 or 14, Samatar decided to look for his father and asked a man to help him locate the old man. The two traveled from town to town until they reached Qalafo. They came upon a group of elderly men playing shax (Somali chess) and the guide told the young Samatar, “There is your father.” It was a bizarre spectacle: a lad meeting his unassuming father for the first time. However, young Samatar recognized his father instantly because he was a carbon copy of his brother Ismail.  
“Father,” the young Samatar called. The elderly man addressed the young man in a generic way without knowing his identity: “Son, if you have a legal problem, why don’t you come to the office tomorrow.” Obviously, Samatar realized that his father did not recognize him.

“You are my father,” said Samatar.
“Ah, what wife?” asked Sheikh Samatar.

“[So and so].”
“And what is your name?”

“Said.”
“Ah, there was such a child.”

Then, Samatar, for the first time, started going to Qur’an school. His father also encouraged him to attend a learning center run by Sudan Interior Mission (SIM) in Qalafo in Ethiopia. Many years later, Professor Samatar would call his father “a bit of a coward” because the elder Samatar was an Islamic judge and supposedly a pious man but who nevertheless worked for what Professor Samatar called the “Ethiopian Christian system.” Samatar’s father also had the habit of defending Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie and his government. Moreover, his father encouraged young Samatar to seek knowledge from the missionaries and use “Taqiya”—a Shi’ite doctrine in which the believer practices something and conceals his true intention. In other words, Samatar’s father was asking his son to associate himself with the missionaries out of educational pragmatism. Young Samatar did exactly that and joined the missionaries. Incidentally, another young man, a contemporary of Samatar in Qalafo, by the name of Nuraddin Farah (who later became a renowned international writer) studied at the missionary school but did not dabble in the religion his teachers proselytized. Samatar studied at the missionary schools, met his future wife, an American, and married; he worked with the missionaries and finally won scholarship to the U.S. The winners of such scholarship were interestingly dubbed “The Believers Group.” In an interview in 2005 with Professor Ahmed I. Samatar (no relation) for Bildhaan (Vol. 6, 2006), Professor Samatar remarked that he had gone “from one kitab (book) to another. And now I am returning to the original kitab.”
After the BBC interview with Samatar, Barre went into battle mode. The dictator indirectly pointed out the size of Samatar’s clan and his family’s religious background, but he dropped a blitzkrieg bombshell when he mentioned Samatar’s embrace of Christianity. It was a staggering revelation for many of the Somalis who regularly listened to the BBC. There was no doubt that Samatar came from an Islamic religious background as was manifested by his father’s profession as an Islamic judge, not to mention that the young Samatar studied and memorized the Qur’an. Barre’s indirect mention of the size of the Leelkase clan also was not accidental. It was obvious that Barre was not happy with the conduct of Khalif Muse Samatar, the only high-ranking Leelkase official in his cabinet. Professor Samatar, in an article in Wardheernews (“A Leelkase Captain Ahab, April 7, 2005), wrote that, in fact, his Leelkase clan was “largely a clan of mullahs with no material or numerical significance.” Whether these remarks were written in jest or resignation, Samatar added, “I daresay my kinsmen are likely to disown me for saying this.”

Barre’s aim was to discredit Samatar by letting Somalis know that the young scholar had ‘betrayed’ his own religion, and hence turned his back on his family and his clan’s stellar religious credentials. In essence, to Barre, Samatar had no credibility. The BBC called Samatar again and asked him about Barre’s remarks. Samatar did not dignify them with a response. Then, he was asked about Barre’s potential successors. Professor Samatar argued that the bigger tribes (the Hawiye and the Darod) were obviously vying for Barre’s position but that Vice-President General Mohamed Ali Samantar, who came from a smaller tribe, was more likely to replace the dictator as a transitional figure. However, the professor interestingly pointed out that General Samantar might out-maneuver and out-fox the other contenders from bigger families. Then, the professor astutely mentioned that in Kenya, when the strongman Jomo Kenyatta died, the Kikuyu and the Luo politicians jostled for power but, in a compromise, settled on Vice-President Daniel arap Moi of the smaller Kalenjin tribe:  Moi outmaneuvered all of them and would stay in power for 24 years.
In 1977, while collecting research materials for his dissertation about Sayid Mohamed Abdille Hassan’s poetry, Said Samatar briefly spent time in Barre’s jails and the censors confiscated his research materials because they contained poems full of clan references. In the 1970s, Barre’s regime had waged war on tribalism and, hence, clan references were frowned upon. It was Dr. Mohamed Adan Shaikh, a Somali cabinet member, who ordered Samatar’s release and the return of his research materials.

Siad Barre is long gone; he passed away in the 1990s in Nigeria. Samatar is still teaching history and sees the dictator leaving a legacy of destruction. In the interview with Bildhaan, Samatar depicted Barre as a dictator who could have built a nation in the 21 years he was at the helm, but instead “he went out to undermine, to destroy.” Samatar grudgingly depicted Barre as “an evil genius who knew our weaknesses as a people…our greed, our excitability, and our vanity.” Furthermore, according to Samatar, Barre “inflamed group against group, kin against kin, until we just went ballistic, crazy.”
Somewhere in Gedo, Somalia, Siad Barre is turning in his grave and probably saying his trademark remark about his political opponents in the Somali Salvation Democratic Front: “Waxaan ilaahay ka baryayaa inuu soo hanuuniyo kuwa gidaarrada ku qufaca,” (I ask God to guide those who linger around street corners [pontificating]).

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Can Women Train Their Husbands?

There is a nagging question that many women often ask themselves. How do they train their husbands?  In a world where the rate of divorce is equal to the rate of marriages, any fresh ideas or techniques that can salvage marriages becomes enticing.

Two books—one new and the other old—deal with this issue of training husbands. Angela Christian Pope’s How To Train Your Husband (September 5, 2013) is short, concise and to the point. She offers practical recommendations to help women cope with their husbands and illicit from them the positive responses that will make their marriages better. Amy Sutherland’s book, What Shamu Taught Me About Life, Love and Marriage (2007), is unique because the author uses animal training techniques to train what she calls “that stubborn but lovable species, the American husband.”

Pope acknowledges that not all husbands and wives are the same of course, but many do share common traits. She then makes a bold statement, one that sums up the needs of that complex male creature we call a husband: “Other than love, which everyone needs, the two biggest things most men need in life are respect and sex.” If only women would understand that simple fact, their lives would be a lot easier. Simply put, according to Pope, men are biologically and inherently “wired for” for these needs. While many men would find this characterization of them very simplistic (alas, whatever happened to men’s obsession with male comradeship, sports, and power?), Pope interjects her expertise to bolster her claim. Other than her educational credentials, which include degrees in psychology and education, she has also counseled many couples. Still, her biggest accomplishment is the fact that she was once in a volatile marriage that lasted for 16 years and then later experienced and survived a bitter divorce. She has since been happily married again. In other words, she has seen it all—what works in marriage and what does not.
Training husbands is no easy task because men bring into their marriages some long entrenched behaviors. Interestingly, Pope also delivers a cautionary note for women: You can’t train your husbands unless you are willing to train yourself. In fact, the author makes it clear that what men do is generally react to what women do. She gives some general pointers to women as part of her husband-training:

1.      Avoid criticizing your husband in public and especially in front of the children. Such scathing criticism will “tear a man like nothing.”

2.      If you have to fight, do so fairly. That means no name-calling. There are certain words one has to avoid like “never” and “always.” Accusing your husband by saying he ‘never’ cleans or is ‘always’ late will make him defensive and unwilling to change.

3.      Don’t act like you are fine when in fact you are angry with him. Tell him why you are upset with him, but in a calm way.

4.      In terms of intimacy, avoid always having a headache. Men are not dumb and they know when they are being rejected with untenable excuses.

5.      Don’t play games with your husband because being honest is the best policy.

6.      Compliment him as much as you can. These acts of appreciation, indeed, will strengthen your relationship. In other words, don’t ever take him for granted.

7.      Keep your private life private. While it is a good idea to have a special friend whom you can confide in, it is always better not to divulge your marital secrets to others. Keeping your husband’s secrets is also paramount because it is a matter of trust.

Pope adds other recommendations as well such as making all important decisions together, praising him, showing your love instead of simply saying ‘I love you’ and never using sex as a weapon because if you do that, he will see you as “the enemy” instead of the object of his affection.” And finally, men need their personal space, so let him have guy time.
While Pope’s advice might seem paradoxically geared to making men happy, she in fact deals with the subject of training husbands as a kind of team work that can occur between couples. Tellingly, what is good for the goose is good for the gander. When the author tells women to respect their husbands, she also makes it clear that wives must also be respected in return; respect is never a-one-way-street.

Amy Sutherland’s book is a bit controversial because her techniques will raise some eyebrows. Sutherland was already an accomplished writer and the author of a bestseller, Kicked, Bitten, and Scratched: Life and Lessons at the World’s Premier School for Exotic Animal Trainers (2006) when she wrote an interesting article (the most viewed and e-mailed piece in the New York Times in the year 2006), called “What Shamu taught me about life, love and marriage.” Her book bears the same title.
According to Sutherland, “the key to marital bliss is to ignore negative habits and reward positive ones, the same approach animal trainers use to get killer whales to leap from their tanks, and elephants to stand on their heads.” Animal trainers use a method called the Least Reinforcing Scenario (LRS) which is: You reward the behavior you like and ignore the one you disapprove of. When a trainer notices a dolphin has done something wrong, he stands still for a few seconds without looking at the animal in the eye, and then he returns to the work. The idea is that any response from the trainer, either positive or negative, “fuels a behavior” but if an unacceptable behavior does not provoke any response that behavior simply dies out.

While Sutherland admits that her animal training technique is neither original nor a quick fix, she is adamant that the approach works for both genders.  
Sutherland was leading what seemed to be a happy life. Her loving husband, Scott, had many good traits but she was annoyed by his habits of constantly losing his keys and then bugging her about their whereabouts, leaving his dirty laundry on the floor, putting empty milk cartons back in the refrigerator, coming late to dinner appointments as she waited for him in restaurants, and crowding her in the kitchen as she cooked. Her concern was; how to deal with Scott’s annoying habits and free her marriage from these irritants. While researching her first book, she thought of adopting the techniques animal trainers use. Sutherland began to ignore Scott’s nagging questions about finding his keys; she started giving him snacks to munch in the living room while she prepared for dinner, and rewarded him by complimenting him every time he placed his dirty clothes in the hamper.

Her technique did work, and her marriage, in her own words, became “far smoother, her husband much easier to love.” She realized that her habit of taking his negative traits personally had been counter-productive. As the animal trainers’ motto says, “It is never the animal’s fault.”  She added, “The more positive I was with my husband, or more importantly, the less critical I was, the faster his husbandly defensiveness faded away.” When Sutherland asked her husband to do something, he responded positively. “He seemed at ease,” she noted, “maybe in a way he hadn’t before, he begun to trust me.”
Humans have the habit of not noticing good deeds and instead focusing on only the negative habits. For instance, parents do not notice the times when their children are riding in the car peacefully, but when one makes a mistake, there is an urgent need to dwell on that negative behavior. Husbands are also not noticed for all the good things they do for their family, argues Sutherland, but when one does not take out the garbage, all hell breaks loose.

When Sutherland says the technique works for both genders, she is right. One day, she went to the dentist and had crown work. For a week, she was in excruciating pain and kept complaining to Scott about her physical condition. Then, she noticed that her husband was quiet and kept listening to her as she whined without uttering a word. Suddenly, she realized what was going on. “Are you giving me an L.R.S? [i.e ignoring my constant whining] You are, aren’t you,” she asked. Scott smiled. It became evident to her that he was training her, the American wife. The phrase “Did you just shamu me?” became her husband’s typical response when he felt subjected to Sutherland ’tactics.  
 Sutherland implies that we are all animals but men are different animals than women animals. While humans are more complicated than other animals, there are universal “rules of behavior” that indeed “cut across all species.”

Husband training conjures up the notion that women have all the answers for making their marriages work better. Why is it that only women have to work harder than their husbands to make their marriages successful? Why do men need to be trained? As a rule, a trainer has the knowledge and the information a trainee lacks, but the two cited authors here see husband training as more of an effort to educate women about the simplicity of men’s needs and the predictability of male behavior. In reality, men are neither dogs nor dolphins who simply respond to certain stimuli. The trainer method of reinforcing the positive and ignoring the negative, however, is very effective in learning. But men are more complex specis than animals because animals don’t react to power the same way that humans often do. Animals see their trainers as their masters; humans don’t see others that way. Moreover, men are of course capable of training their trainer.
(Written by Hassan M. Abukar and reprinted with permission from Sahan Journal, 10/24/2013) 

Friday, October 4, 2013

Two Myths about Al-Shabaab You Probably Didn't Know

During the last few months, al-Shabaab, the al-Qaeda-affiliated Somali group, has shattered some of the misconceptions many have about the critical underpinnings of the group’s activities.  Indeed, some writers, including myself, have made assumptions about the militant group that are simply wrong. Two myths stand out.

1. Al-Shabaab is divided into two factions: Global jihadists and local nationalists

The recent discord among al-Shabaab leadership, especially evident in the bloody incident in Barawe in June 2013, resulted in two founders of the group being killed, Ibrahim al-Afghani and Moalim Burhan, while Hassan Dahir Aweys fell into the hands of the Somali government.

Al-Afghani, was an internationalist jihadi. Other leaders like Aweys, Mukhtar Robow, and Moalim Burhan, were considered to be more local leaders than global jihadists. In addition, two foreign jihadists — Osama al-Britani, a British citizen of Pakistani origin, and the American-born Omar Hammami, also known as Abu Mansoor al-Amriki — were killed in September 2013  by loyalists of Ahmed Godane, the supreme leader of al-Shabaab.

The two foreigners, al-Britani and al-Amriki, had impeccable credentials as global warriors. The nagging question is: Why would Godane, a man who is known for his commitment to global jihad, eliminate a group of fighters comprising global and national jihadists?

The answer is simple: The conflict among al-Shabaab leaders is not about whether to wage global jihad. It is mostly about personal rule — namely Godane’s unbridled pursuit of total hegemony over the radical group.  In the end, the larger question about al-Shabaab boils down to not only about global jihad or ideology, but rather is a simple issue of command and control.

2. Al-Shabaab is more lethal and effective now more than ever

We are told that al-Shabaab is ever cohesive and united, as demonstrated by the terror group’s recent bombings in Mogadishu, and the attack on the Westgate mall in the Kenyan capital Nairobi.

Yes, al-Shabaab was effective and daring in these bombings, but one has to ask what enabled all these operations to take place in the first place?

In Somalia, the radical group has gotten a rare opportunity in the government of President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, whose security apparatus is weak and corrupt.

A year ago, Mogadishu was a lot safer than it is today. According to a recent UN Monitoring Group report, al-Shabaab has infiltrated Mohamud’s administration especially the security and intelligence sectors.

A good illustration is the escape of al-Shabaab member Abdirahman Ali Abukar on September 10 from Mogadishu’s central prison. The fugitive was arrested last year for plotting to kill the country’s deputy head of the national army.  The Somali government has since arrested the prison warden and four correction officers for possibly being bribed by the militant.

This means that as long as the Somali government is corrupt and ineffective, there will be room for al-Shabaab to operate at will. This also means that al-Shabaab is not becoming more cohesive; rather it is a reflection of the government’s inadequacy. Any security lapse in the government is a boon for al-Shabaab.

The attack on Westgate Mall in Nairobi was unique because of the preponderance of foreign jihadists in the operation.

If some of the reports are right, the language of communication among the attackers was English, which means that Godane has finally employed a division of labor tactic for his fighters: using foreigners and foreign-born jihadists for operations outside Somalia, and Somali-born fighters for operations within the country.

This division of labor appeases foreign jihadists who have been clamoring for some action for a while.

In short, al-Shabaab’s recent attacks can best be described as opportunities in security lapses and a strong commitment to remain relevant.

These bombings are cries from the militant group to be noticed once again, to distract its fighters from the horrific killings of some of its own leaders and foreign jihadists, and take the limelight away from Somali President Mohamud’s recent diplomatic successes.

By Hassan M. Abukar. The article is reprinted with permission from Sahan Journal.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

To Beat Al-Shabaab Kenya must expel its religious leader 'Sheikh Hassaan' from Nairobi

Over the last 2 years, Kenya has been one of few years successful in militarily engaging Al-Shabaab and, in fact, expelling the Al-Qaeda affiliate group from Kismayo, Somalia’s third largest city. However, the Kenyan government has been tolerating the presence of a young Somali-Kenyan radical cleric by the name of Hassan Mahad Omar AKA Hassaan Hussein Adam “Abu Salman” who is considered the unofficial mufti (a religious scholar who interprets the sharia) of Al-Shabaab.

“Sheikh Hassaan,” as he is popularly known, is not your typical cleric who teaches basic religious doctrine. He is well-educated and has a degree from an Islamic university in Saudi Arabia. He is 34 years old, articulate, sharp, and a man with a mission. He is, for all practical purposes, a scholar who does not shy away from urging his followers to wage jihad. On July 28, 2011, the United Nations Security Council Committee put Sheikh Hassaan on its sanctions list for “engaging in acts that threaten the peace, security or stability of Somalia.” Moreover, the committee accused the young cleric of acts ranging from recruitment for Al-Shabaab and fund-raising for the group to issuing fatwas that call for attacks on the Somali government. Sheikh Hassaan does not carry arms himself but instead provides the religious justification for Al-Shabaab’s heinous crimes. He is highly celebrated in websites sympathetic to the militant group.

Sheikh Hassaan has drawn the ire of Somalia’s religious establishment. In July 2012, a group of 22 Somali scholars met in Nairobi and issued a fatwa of their own, condemning the young radical as a heretic and calling on the Somalis to boycott his books and lectures.

The recent bloody discord in Al-Shabaab’s leadership saw two founders of the group killed by loyalists of the emir of the group, Ahmed Abdi Godane. Others, like Hassan Dahir Aweys and Mukhtar Robow, fled for their lives. Such actions were justified by a fatwa of Sheikh Hassaan, who said that those who create conflict among the mujahidin in Somalia should be killed. Al-Shabaab officials still use that fatwa as the religious justification for liquidating their detractors in the movement.

In 2011, the Kenyan government arrested and held Sheikh Hassaan for a few days but then released him without explanation. It is not clear why the young cleric, whose lectures are widely distributed among Somali jihadists across the globe, was let go. Some say that he is being protected by highly influential Kenyan- Somali politicians who, like Shaikh Hassaan, belong to the Darord-Ogaden clan. Others argue that, perhaps, the young cleric is so popular among Somali jihadists that his arrest might create more problems for the already over-stretched and poorly run Kenyan security forces. One thing is clear: The young cleric is mostly engaged in inciting violence and preaching jihadi ideology among his admirers who in turn direct it against the Somali government.

The Kenyan government has yet to understand that Al-Shabaab’s terrorist attacks in both Somalia and Kenya, like the recent killings in the Westgate Mall of Nairobi, are not born out of a vacuum. They are based, directly or indirectly, on fatwas issued by the group’s de facto mufti, Shaikh Hassan, from the comfort of his home in Nairobi.
 
By Hassan M. Abukar, a freelance writer and political analyst.

(Reprinted with permission from African Arguments, September 25, 2013).


Thursday, September 12, 2013

Omar Hammami: The Rise and Fall of a Foreign Jihadist

“History has proven that the Somalis generally do not want any influence from Al-Qaeda or foreigners in their internal affairs.”—Omar Hammami.


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Omar Hammami, the American jihadist with Al-Shabab, Somalia’s Al-Qaeda affiliate, was killed on Thursday by Al-Shabab fighters according to a report by AP. He was 29 years old. He had been hunted by Godane, the emir of Al-Shabab and his henchmen for over a year and half. It was only on April 25 when he tweeted that an Al-Shabab assassin shot him in the neck.

Born and raised in Daphne, Alabama, to a Syrian father and an American Baptist mother, Hammami grew up in a privileged life. He was raised as a Christian because his father was not a practicing Muslim. As a child, Hammami won awards in Sunday school. Only in his teens when the father became interested in Islam did the son become Muslim. In high school, Hammami became, in his own words, a Salafi, an individual with a literal and puritanical approach to Islam. He started dressing in a certain way and grew a big beard. His father, who by that time had become the head of the Islamic center in their hometown, was not pleased with the path his son had chosen. Hammami fit the typical profile of a confused young man with an identity crisis: He dropped out of school, had toxic relationships with his parents, had difficulty keeping a steady job, and fantasized about a future far removed from reality. Hammami’s discord with his father led to his expulsion from the family home. It became apparent that his father’s lofty expectation of Hammami becoming a doctor was never going to materialize.

Hammami held an assortment of low-wage jobs in Alabama such as counselor at the local YMCA and janitor in the very mosque of which his father was president. He did not have a lot going for him in Alabama and moved to Toronto, Canada. Once again, he worked in odd jobs such as delivering milk to Somali refugees. He met a young Somali woman and they married. The couple moved to Egypt so that Hammami could pursue a degree in Islamic studies at the prestigious Al-Azhar University. However, the young husband, and now father, was restless. He was itching to go to a Muslim country where a jihad was being waged. Somalia was an alluring prospect because in that year of 2006 the country was run by the Union of the Islamic Courts. Hammami took a flight to the United Arab Emirates without informing his wife and from there he went to Somalia. He wanted to be a martyr and ended up abandoning his wife and their infant daughter in an alien country. Hammami never saw his wife and daughter again. The couple divorced because the young wife did not want to return to Somalia, the very country she and her family had fled in the early 1990s.

Hammami found in Somalia young jihadists, some foreigners, who were in the midst of what they called ‘jihad’ against the Ethiopian troops and the Somali government forces. He felt at home and received training in guerilla warfare. In 2007, a federal warrant for his arrest was issued in the U.S.

It was a tough life for the American living in Somalia because he was in a place seemingly resigned to absolute poverty. He remained ensconced with fellow jihadists in the jungle and, at times, in small villages with no modern amenities. Food was scarce; ants were plenty and a nuisance, lions bellowed nearby, and Ethiopian army helicopters, first, and American drones, later, hovered in the skies looking for the militants. All these challenges did not frazzle Hammami: He wanted to die for the sake of God. But the young man, at the time 22, had a habit of sticking his neck out to question military strategies and criticize policies. In his 127-page autobiography that he posted online in 2012, aptly titled “American Jihadist,” Hammami stated that he was constantly labeled as a “virus” and “a trouble maker” bent on challenging authority. When some disgruntled foreign fighters decided to leave Somalia, Hammami stuck around. He saw his future in that African country. The leaders of the Al-Shabab militant group he joined in 2007 were impressed with his enthusiasm, loyalty, wry sense of humor, and his fluency in English and Arabic. Most of all, he was a white man who could make strides in recruiting young Muslims in the West. Hammami relished being a recruiter and mouthpiece for the radical group. His videos were occasionally funny and entertaining: A villainous figure that did not appear villainous on the internet.

But, then, Hammami was not one to stay quiet. He had a penchant for making trouble.

Last March, 2012, Hammami appeared on the internet claiming that Al-Shabab militants were trying to kill him because he disagreed with the group regarding the application of sharia, strategy, and the course of jihad in Somalia. The Al-Shabab leaders were not pleased with the public rants. After several months of tolerating Hammami’s “childish petulance,” the group lashed out at him and accused him of seeking fame at the expense of his fellow jihadists. It was also in that month of December 2012 that Hammami was added to the FBI’s Most Wanted list.

On April 25, 2013, an Al-Shabab assassin shot Hammami in the neck. It was not a critical injury. However, it became clear that Godane, the emir of Al-Shabab, was not letting any internal opposition to his leadership go unpunished.
Hammami was not your typical jihadi. He had a sense of humor and he employed a unique technique in appealing to would-be jihadists in the West. He sang jihadi rap songs and relished in taunting the U.S and members of the Somali government. In a way, despite his radical ideology, he was goofy. “I would also lead [fighters] in singing Nashids [Islamic songs] in an obnoxious loud voice while other people were sleeping or doing ‘serious’ things. I would also go on long passionate rants about everything that was wrong with our situation and then end it all rolling in laughter like a deranged hyena,” he said in a sardonic self-mocking way. When asked if he would ever return to America; why or why not— he replied: “The “why not” would have to be Eric Holder [the United States Attorney General], war ships, most wanted pictures, and kangaroo courts.” Hammami, in an interview with VOA two weeks ago, said that a return to Somalia was not an option “unless it was in a body bag.” Moreover, he labeled the American drones in Somalia as “racist” because “they only shoot white people.” He added for good effect, “They just want to kill off every white [fighter] they can.”

Someone had asked Hammami if he had some commonalities with the late Steve Jobs because the two were born to a Syrian father, dropped out of college, and were leaders in their respective fields. Hammami simply answered, “I never knew about him.” Hammami, however, said if given three days in Alabama, he would spend time visiting his mother, father, and sister. “Then,” he continued, “I would like to make the rounds of restaurants and get some Chinese food, some hot wings, some Nestle ice cream, some gourmet coffee, and a slew of other foods and beverages.” It is now obvious such opportunity will never come along.

Hammami’s old colleagues in the Al-Shabab group did not laugh when he started making snide remarks about Godane, the adroit manipulator and punitive leader. Godane was furious and vowed to flail the young American fighter.

Omar Hammami’s jihadist career was a nexus of religion, bravado, and self-promotion. He will best be remembered as the hip hop jihadist who ran afoul of Al-Shabab, a terrorist outfit that has never deviated from its mission to kill and maim. Jihad, as Hammami used to say, is not fun, but instead is a serious and dangerous enterprise. He was right. His death is the best confirmation.