A Challenging Transition in Somalia: A Book Review

Book: A Challenging Transition in Somalia
Author: Abdiweli Mohamed Ali
Length: 180 pages
Publisher: The Red Sea Press, Inc. (February 20, 2017)

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Abdiweli Mohamed Ali “Gaas” was Somalia’s prime minister for 14 months, from June 2011 to October 2012, and is now the head of Puntland regional government. His new book is a memoir of his childhood, his early and later schooling, as well as his tenure as premier. Oddly, the book does not include his years as President of Puntland.

Born in the early 1960s to a nomadic family in the rural area of Galkacayo, Abdiweli grew up in central Somalia and later moved to Dhusamareeb, where he spent his formative years. As a teen, he dabbled in Marxism and “was on the edge of becoming an atheist.” After graduating high school, he attended Mogadishu’s National University, where he majored in economics. After graduation, he worked briefly for the ministry of finance and then won a rare scholarship to attend Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee. He returned to Somalia after finishing his Master’s degree but came back to the United States shortly afterwards to pursue a doctorate. He settled in the Washington D.C. area where he struggled to juggle school, work, and supporting his budding family. He worked as a security guard, a cab driver, and did whatever he could to help his family. Finally, he completed his doctorate at George Mason University and subsequently found a teaching job at Niagara University in Buffalo.

While in Buffalo, he met Mohamed Abdullahi “Farmajo,” Somalia’s current president. In 2010, Farmajo was appointed as prime minister and asked Abdiweli to join his cabinet. Abdiweli was initially reluctant and asked for two days to consult with his wife. Farmajo called him again the next day, but this time he was prepared with a new enticement and a better offer. He asked Abdiweli to serve as his deputy and minister of planning and international cooperation. Abdiweli immediately accepted the position. After seven months, fate again favored Abdiweli when Farmajo was forced out of office. Farmajo then asked Abdiweli to replace him as premier. The once provincial kid from central Somalia, who had never dreamed of becoming prime minister, suddenly rose swiftly to unexpected heights.

This book is well written, thanks to people like Professor Lidwien Kaptejins, who helped the author. It is the story of a young man who excelled in school, received a rare scholarship in America and obtained a Ph.D. in economics. It is a personal story of survival, hard work, ambition, discipline, and being in the right place at the right time.

However, aside from the personal success story, the book lacks insight and forthrightness. Moreover, it is stingy with details. It does not tell us much about Abdiweli’s contributions as a minister of planning and international cooperation (devoting only one and half pages to the topic) and his tenure as prime minister. When he became a minister of planning, he found a computer in his new office, which did not contain a single government file. He said he appointed a capable director general, re-organized the bureaucracy, instituted a system of division of labor, and made sure employees were paid regularly. By the time he left the ministry after seven months, there were “computers, printers, and internet.” That is all Abdiweli said about his experience as a minister of planning and international cooperation. The former college professor found himself preoccupied by the prosaic day-to-day concerns of bureaucracy. In his book, nothing is said about public policy development, socioeconomic planning, statistics management, implementation monitoring, or evaluation.

Abdiweli’s tenure as prime minister was buffeted by an endless power struggle between President Sheikh Sharif and Speaker Sharif Hassan. He was caught between these two powerful figures who made sure he consulted with them in the affairs of his government. The two succeeded in blocking Abdiweli’s first proposed cabinet. After some wrangling, a compromise was reached in which a new cabinet that precluded ministers who had served under Farmajo and Omar Abdirashid was to be appointed. What did Abdiweli do next? His managerial gaffe was so blatant he asked the departing ministers to pick their own replacements. He told them, “Since you are not returning to the cabinet, please give me your recommendations for the right person to replace you.” The department ministers showed their true colors and selected representatives of their own clan.

Conveniently, one glaring cabinet selection by Abdiweli is not mentioned in his book: The man who became his deputy and minister of defense, Hussein Arab Isse. Abdiweli appointed Isse, a man with no known education and no government experience who—until his appointment—had been in the transportation sector in Sacramento, California. Many years later, Isse spoke about that fateful day when he was asked to become a cabinet member. He told an audience in Minneapolis that Abdiweli had called him and asked him to be defense minister. “I was utterly shocked by [Abdiweli’s] offer,” said Isse in a deadpan voice.  

Abdiweli writes extensively about his pioneering work in laying the foundation for the “Roadmap,” which he said was initiated by him and other stakeholders. “The Roadmap was a detailed list of dozens of tasks designed to steer Somalia out of the transition period and toward more permanent political institutions and greater national security and stability.” There were four key areas of the Roadmap (security, political outreach and reconciliation, and good governance and institution, as well as drafting the constitution for adoption by a National Constituent Assembly). By all measures, the implementation of the Roadmap remains incomplete. Security has been a big problem in the country even though Al-Shabaab withdrew from major cities such as Mogadishu, Baidoa, and Kismayo and some smaller towns. However, the militant group still controls a swath of the country. The provisional constitution was adopted and approved by a National Constituent Assembly, but has yet to be approved in a referendum. No genuine reconciliation has taken place in Somalia and the country has consistently been identified among the world’s most corrupted nations in the world.

Abdiweli’s book is full of boasting and bluster. It is littered with pictures of the former prime minister meeting with world and local leaders and there is not a single photo of him with ordinary Somalis. There is insight into Abdiweli’s contentious and debilitating relationship with then-President Sheikh Sharif, Speaker Sharif Hassan, and Abdirahman Farole of Puntland. Farole has been a stubborn problem for Abdiweli and the two have been involved in numerous tiffs. There is no love lost between them.

In 2012, Abdiweli ran for the presidency, but failed miserably. A newcomer, Hassan Sheikh Mohamoud, outwitted him and asked Abdiweli to endorse him in return for keeping his job. When Abdiweli hemmed and hawed, Mohamoud told him bluntly, “Abdiweli, this is Mogadishu, the Hawiye stronghold. All I want is to protect you from the problems of the Hawiye.” Abdiweli ended up backing Mohamoud instead of his boss, President Sheikh Sharif. To his dismay, when Mohamoud became president, he lost his job. Paradoxically, Abdiweli is restrained in talking about his secret agreement with Mohamoud.

In a nutshell, Abdiweli’s book is a good read, but it lacks an honest assessment of his tenure as prime minister. It is unfortunate that a highly educated man with a purview in economics has failed to articulate a clear vision of development under his tenure and, instead, has been busy collecting every trapping of material wealth. Abdiweli’s short tenure as premier represents at best an affirmation, rather than a repudiation, of the status quo.  

Guests of Abdi Iley

Mohamed Ali, better known as Khalif Cadaawe, is angry. He believes he has been a victim of false imprisonment in the Somali region of Ethiopia.

Born and raised in Ethiopia, Cadaawe has been in the U.S. since the mid-1990s. He is a naturalized American citizen and a respected community elder among his Gurre (Dir) clan in the U.S.  A 5’8” man in his early 70s, he speaks softly but authoritatively. Wearing a baseball cap, he sat with me in a café in a major city on the West Coast while visiting his son and grandchildren. He is angry and disappointed with Abdi M. Omar, “Abdi Iley,” the president of the Somali region. In fact, Cadaawe has a painful story to tell.

Cadaawe and five of his colleagues from the Gurre clan were arrested last year in Ethiopia. They were handcuffed, chained like animals, and kept in detention for more than two weeks after they entered Ethiopia through Kenya. 

“I never expected something like that to happen to me,” said Cadaawe. “My right leg still pains me.”

Cadaawe was the victim of political circumstances that left him in bewilderment. He never expected he would be the subject of an international incident for the U.S. State Department, the Ethiopian federal government, and the regional administration of the Somali region. In hindsight, Cadaawe would never have left America to visit his native country had he known what awaited him. “Not at my age,” he said and chuckled, “Are you serious?”

His travails started in the spring of last year when some of the Gurre elders, intellectuals, women, and youth activists met in Minneapolis to discuss what seemed to be a simple grievance on behalf of their people in Ethiopia. They called out the “lack of progress” in the heavily populated Gurre districts in Ethiopia such as Goro-Baqaqsa, Gurre Dhaamole, and, to a lesser extent, Qarsa duula. “We are Ethiopians,” many of them emphasized, and not opposed to the Ethiopian federal government or the administration of the Somali region. The attendees lamented the lack of development in their region—no roads, not enough schools and ambulances, and no palpable economic progress. 

One elderly woman focused on what she called “the allocated budget” for the Gurre districts, which is mismanaged and unfairly distributed. Khalif Adaawe, one of the main speakers of the forum, and other participants highlighted the disenfranchisement of the Gurre as a community and their need for equal rights and free access to federal government resources. “We do not want civil war,” one of the speakers declared, but “are only interested in a peaceful way of addressing our legitimate grievances.”

Members of the Gurre community selected Cadaawe to represent them and he traveled to Kenya first to mobilize the Gurre community on his way to Ethiopia. In Nairobi, he met with members of the Gurre clan and raised money for the Grand Renaissance Dam being built in Ethiopia. On April 15, 2016, the community met with the Ethiopian Ambassador and other officials from the Ethiopian federal government. Speeches were delivered in support of the Ethiopian government, and the Gurre leaders requested that their demands for better services in the Somali region and access to power be honored. Then, Cadaawe presented a check in the sum of $20,000 from his community to the ambassador. Cadaawe told the Ethiopian officials that a delegation consisting of six members, including him, was planning to visit Ethiopia to meet with the Gurre. According to Cadaawe, the ambassador wrote a glowing recommendation letter for them, addressed to Ethiopia’s interior minister, urging the government to facilitate the needs of the delegation.

Abdi Iley was not pleased with Cadaawe and his friends met Embassy officials and complained about him. He considered their meeting with the federal figures to be an affront to his administration. 

Cadaawe and his colleagues planned to cross into Ethiopia through Kenya at the border town of Moyale. A rental bus was waiting for them to take them to Addis Ababa and then to the Gurre territory. However, something else—perhaps even tragedy—awaited them in Moyale.

Immediately after Cadaawe and his group crossed into the Ethiopian side of Moyale, they were met by armed agents of the Liyu police from the Somali region and arrested, handcuffed, and put in chains from their waist to their legs.

Cadaawe and his friends were driven through the vast territory of the Somali region unaware of the reason for their detention. “I was blanketed by shock and horror,” he said. In his mind, questions abounded: “What happened?” “What did he do?” “Was it a case of mistaken identity?” “Was he betrayed by his own people?”

For 24 hours, the detainees and their captors traveled on a long, treacherous, and unpaved road until they finally reached Goday. They were taken out of the police vehicle and he discovered—to his horror—that they were all in chains. “I was paralyzed with a gripping fear,” he said, “I thought we will be shot.” Instead, the detainees were lined up for the mass media to be shown and presented as terrorists and members of Al-Shabaab. 

“Al-Shabaab terrorists!” exclaimed Cadaawe, a hint of amusement in his voice.

As the rumor mill swirled about Cadaawe’s detention among the Gurre, his family in the U.S. became concerned. News about his incarceration finally reached the federal government in Addis Ababa and frantic calls ensued asking Abdi Iley to release the delegation. At first, an official of the Somali region denied the existence of such figures in their custody. Then Cadaawe and his colleagues were secretly whisked away from Goday (and the federal government’s reach) and transferred to a small village in a remote area.

“For all practical purposes, we were kidnapped and spent 17 grueling days in detention,” said Cadaawe. They were given meager food and kept in chains. What bothered him the most was the lack of formal charges being presented against the group and the absence of due process. He said it was more like the law of the jungle.

Relatives of Cadaawe in the U.S. were not to be cowed. They immediately contacted Congressman Keith Ellison of Minnesota and sought his assistance. It was then that the American Embassy in Addis Ababa intervened on behalf of Cadaawe. Two consular officers finally came and visited him after he was transferred to Jigjiga. Additional pressure came from the Ethiopian federal government for Abdi Iley demanding the release of the Gurre delegation. However, Abdi Iley did not look like a leader perturbed and he flew to Australia for an official visit.

Cadaawe has become a target of scorn for some leaders of his clan who were allied with Abdi Iley. They see Cadaawe as a trouble maker from America bent on embarrassing Abdi Iley’s administration. Ugaas Mohamed Ugaas Guled, a Gurre chieftain, chastised Cadaawe in the harshest terms: “He is an old man who represents no one but himself,” the chieftain said. “In fact, Cadaawe is a propagandist and a product of fadhi-ku-dirir (political chatter) in the diaspora.”

In Australia, Abdi Iley finally caved in and called for his subordinates in Jigjiga to release “only the American citizen” among the detained group. American diplomats then collected Cadaawe, who was taken to Addis Ababa. “I was in poor health,” he said, and he could not afford either medical treatment or legal counsel. He later traveled to Nairobi where he spent three months recuperating, resting, and ruminating on what had happened to him in the Somali region. “I was bitter and felt utterly humiliated,” he said.

At times, Cadaawe seemed to articulate the story of his ordeal in a confident voice. Other times, he seemed fearful of the long arm of Abdi Iley. He repeated that he was neither a politician nor someone harboring political ambition. He made a distinction between his grievances of the wrong that had been meted out against him by the Liyu police and his unbridled loyalty to the Ethiopian government.

In a move to mollify the political outcry that resulted from Cadaawe’s detention among the Gurre, Abdi Iley has offered—through intermediaries—to meet with Cadaawe and other members of his community in the diaspora. It is not clear if the supposed meeting will take place anytime soon.

Cadaawe says he has no intention of suing Abdi Iley or his administration. “I am an elderly man and I want to spend the rest of my life in peace,” he said. “However, I would love to visit my relatives one day in the Somali region.”  He said he is still afraid that his next visit to the region will have calamitous consequences.

Cadaawe’s story is one of many untold narratives being told about Abdi Iley’s administration, a regime that has been accused of imposing a reign of terror in the Somali region. If the goal of Cadaawe’s incarceration was to send a message to the Gurre community that no dissension will be tolerated in that region, it was heard loud and clear.