Robow's Arrest: Turmoil in the South West State

Mukhtar Robow, the former number-two man in Al-Shabaab and a presidential candidate in Somalia’s South West (SW) region, was arrested on December 13, 2018, in Baidoa and transferred to the capital, Mogadishu. The Ethiopian forces in Baidoa facilitated the arrest.

Robow’s arrest sent ripple effects among the people of the SW, who took to the streets in protest. At least 10 people died during the riots, including a SW parliamentarian. What are the ramifications of Robow’s arrest?

Robow’s arrest is the manifestation of a federal government in disarray, a glaring flaw in counterterrorism policies, a cry for re-examining the Ethiopian army’s presence in Baidoa, and the promise of a bleak future for a country that has been expected to move forward after two decades of civil war but instead is gradually regressing.

A Federal Government in Quandary

Mukhtar Robow became estranged from the Al-Shabaab terror group in 2013, but waited until 2017 to surrender to the federal government. He was reluctant to turn himself in during the regime of President Hassan Sheikh Mohamoud (HSM) and Sharif Hassan, then-president of the SW. Robow was afraid he would be handed over to foreign countries if he surrendered. He believed the new President Mohamed Farmajo was a nationalist who would treat him better. Robow surrendered last year and was under the protection of the Somali government forces in Mogadishu. Then, this October, he was given the green light to go to Baidoa and run for the presidency of the SW.

A few days after Robow’s announced candidacy, the federal government issued an unsigned letter banning Robow from running for office. The letter propelled Robow’s popularity to new heights; suddenly, the once-scorned rebel leader became the savior of the SW. Some people in the SW supported Robow simply out of spite for the federal government and its heavy-handedness in interfering in the affairs of the region.

It seems that the federal government miscalculated when it allowed Robow to come to Baidoa The government had one purpose: depose Sharif Hassan, then president of the SW and a thorn in the side of the federal government. Once the people of the SW rose against their then-president and banished him, Robow became expedient. The federal government then needed a new, reliable SW president who could help President Farmajo in the 2020 elections. Robow was too independent and too mercurial to help Mogadishu.

The miscalculation by the federal government to let Robow run for office was compounded by its subsequent bungling such as pressuring the SW Electoral Commission to delay the region’s presidential elections three times, bribing more than 100 SW legislators, who were brought to Mogadishu and each given $5000, and the outright bribing of local SW officials in Baidoa.

Now that Robow is in custody in Mogadishu, there are reports that he is being pressured to withdraw from the election. There was a press conference on Sunday, December 16, at the headquarters of the National Intelligence and Security Services (NISA) in which Robow did not appear. There is fear among some SW residents that he might be liquidated while in custody and the crime be blamed on Al-Shabaab. Only two years ago, General Abdullahi Gafow, then director of NISA, fired 1,500 intelligence agents for incompetence and fear of possible Al-Shabaab infiltration of the agency.

Al-Shabaab as a Winner

One group that is benefiting from Robow’s arrest is Al-Shabaab. It is rare for the federal government and Al-Shabaab to have a convergence of interests. Robow, a target of the terror group for his betrayal, has become persona non grata for the very government where he sought refuge. The former Al-Shabaab leader has become a classic textbook case for wannabe Al-Shabaab defectors.

Somewhere in Jilib, the stronghold of Al-Shabaab, the militant leaders are laughing at the fate of Robow and the humiliations he has suffered at the hands of the federal government. It is even more ironic for many of the foot soldiers of the radical group, who belong to the Rahanweyn clan, as does Robow. What once the federal government hoped for—mass defections of the radical group after Robow’s surrender—is  today becoming a pipe dream. In fact, there is concern that many SW youth in Baidoa might be radicalized and join the terror group.

What’s to be done

1.      Robow must be released. It is true that I opposed his candidacy, but now that the people of the SW want him as their leader, they should be heard. It is not the federal government’s job to pick leaders for the region. The will of the people should be respected, even if they want a leader with a checkered past.

2.      The Ethiopian troops in Baidoa should be withdrawn because they have proven to be a party to internal Somali politics. This force, the supposedly Sector 3 of the African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM), is in Baidoa not to keep peace, but to further the interests of Ethiopia. The AMISOM envoy to Somalia issued a statement in which he declared that the African Union forces in Baidoa had nothing to do with the arrest of Robow in Baidoa and his transfer to Mogadishu.

3.      The extra-judicial arrest of Robow shows Somalia’s need for a judiciary as he was neither indicted nor expected to be brought before a court of law.

It is mindboggling that a presidential candidate can be arrested and prevented from running for office without any charges. Somali political leaders have focused more on elections and their mechanism than on creating basic institutions—such as an independent judiciary—that the country badly needs.

4.      The federal government needs to regain the trust and the confidence of the people in the SW by: stopping its interference in the regional elections by installing puppets; consulting with SW elders, women, youth and intellectuals; being mindful of what can cause or aggravate radicalism among youth. The SW region has become a fertile ground for Al-Shabaab’s recruitment. The current turmoil in Baidoa and the unrest after Robow’s arrest are likely to galvanize an already messy situation.

The SW conundrum is getting murkier and sham elections are underway, to be held on December 19. So far, five presidential candidates have made their presentations before the SW parliament. Robow’s empty chair, the sixth candidate, is unlikely to be occupied. The federal government is going to attain its ultimate goal of holding the elections without Robow’s presence on December 19, ensuring  that international observers will not attend due to the proximity of Christmas. The International Partners of Somalia, a group of 11 countries plus AMISOM and the United Nations, has issued a statement calling all parties to stop the use of violence and engage in an open dialogue to resolve the SW conflict. “There should be unified support for the agreed framework governing the election,” the statement read, “and that all parties [must] respect the integrity of the electoral process.” The Somali federal government is not expected to heed the advice of its International Partners.

Uncertainty in the South West State Elections

The resignation of Sharif Hassan Aden, former president of Somalia’s South West (SW) regional state, was supposed to ease tensions during the presidential elections. However, as Somalis aptly say, “Ayax teg, eelna reeb” (The locust flew away, but it left hardship). There has been turmoil in the region as the elections, which were supposed to take place on November 17, 2018, have been postponed, for the second time,  to December 5. There is a growing fear that the new scheduled date may yet be put off due to fear of procedural roadblocks and heavy-handedness on the part of the federal government.

The federal government and local SW politicians agreed on one thing: the removal of then-president, Aden. Unfortunately, afterward, discord emerged as to who should be selected for president. The Federal Government of Somalia (FGS) in Mogadishu has clear goals: It wants to install its own man as SW president, make plans to influence the 2020 federal elections, and weaken the regional states—a thorn in the side of the federal government.

To accomplish its goals, the FGS has been trying to influence SW’s Electoral Commission (EC) to introduce procedural hurdles that will make it difficult  for one major presidential candidate to legally stand for the  elections. The FGS has its man in Abdiaziz Hassan, better known as “Lafta Gareen.” He is a federal parliamentarian, an ally of Somalia’s president, Mohamed Farmajo, and a man some critics accuse of lacking independent streak. On the other hand, the federal government has been trying to prevent Mukhtar Robow, a former leader of Al-Shabaab, to run for elections.

A year ago, Robow defected from the Al-Shabaab terrorist group and has cooperated with the federal government and its Western allies. He was in Mogadishu under the protection of federal security services until last month, when, with the support and the blessing of the federal government, he flew via private plane and landed in Baidoa, the current seat of the SW regional government. In Baidoa, he announced his candidacy  for the presidency of the SW.

A few days later came the bombshell: an official, unsigned federal letter was issued banning Robow’s candidacy. Robow and many SW residents were blindsided by the letter and, instead of derailing his candidacy, the letter made his popularity skyrocket. Robow was welcomed with open arms by Baidoa residents and many of its elites. There were reports that the United States representatives in Somalia reprimanded the FGS, demanding they ease the pressure on Robow. Washington saw Robow’s candidacy as a better option for the troubled SW region where Al-Shabaab controls a large swath of territory. In short, Robow is seen by some as a political leader untainted by corruption and someone who can bring stability to the region because he is well-versed with the tactics and inner workings of the militant Al-Shabaab group. A group of elders, women, intellectuals, and politicians like former speaker Mohamed Jawari has endorsed Robow as the best candidate who can bring change to the region.

What made the FGS change directions regarding Robow?  

Perhaps, the 2020 federal presidential elections is the reason. President Farmajo has been in office for the past two years, but he is already gearing up for re-election. Against the backdrop of the 2020 federal elections, President Farmajo calculated that he needed a reliable, malleable, and loyal man who can deliver the SW votes, someone who can arm-twist, coax, and cajole the 70 federal parliamentarians from the SW when the elections take place in 2020. Robow, in essence, is his own man and will be interested more in consolidating his power base than becoming a proxy for President Farmajo.

Last month, the federal government brought more than 100 SW legislators to Mogadishu and handed each $5,000. The move angered a dozen members of the SW’s Electoral Commission, who resigned in protest. These resignations were a golden opportunity for the federal government to manipulate the electoral process in favor of its man, Lafta-Gareen.

The new members of the EC have been struggling to institute procedures for the presidential elections as they have been pressured by both the FGS and the Acting President of the SW, Abdulkadir Sharif Sheikhuna, to find ways to ban Robow from running for office. There is fear among federal officials that Robow will defeat Lafta Gareen, but the EC has so far weathered mounting pressure to bar Robow from the elections and gave him a certificate allowing him to run for the elections.  Robow has been pardoned by President Farmajo, and he is no longer on the sanctions list of the US and United Nations. Moreover, the $5 million bounty on his head placed by Washington has been rescinded.

There is fear that the SW elections might lead to violence and instability. The resignation of Aden, the former president of the SW, was not the end of his political influence in the state. He has his supporters and cronies still entrenched in the bureaucracy. Moreover, the new Acting President, an ally of Aden, also wants to carve his own niche with the federal government. Reliable sources have told me that the Acting President has been promised he will replace his father in the federal parliament once the latter resigns. There are credible reports that the Acting President met with members of the EC on November 19 in violation of the rules and regulations of the electoral  process. 

The federal interference in the SW elections is a manifestation that Mogadishu does not care much about the real issues affecting the region’s residents—lack of security, disconnect from the capital, Mogadishu, youth unemployment, bad governance, and corruption. It is more interested in spending millions on bribing legislators, shipping in a bullet-proof car for Lafta Gareen, and sowing discord and divisions among clans. Mogadishu’s attention span is limited to regional and federal elections, and it will be soon heard from, once again, in the 2020 federal elections. In the meantime, for many SW residents, it will be business as usual—fear of Al-Shabaab, a regional government without a capacity, and a state president doing all the bidding for Mogadishu.

Robow: From Wanted Terrorist to Political Candidate

Mukhtar Robow, former leader of the Al-Shabaab terror group, recently announced his candidacy for the President of the South West (SW) regional state in Somalia. Last year, he surrendered to the Somali government and renounced violence.

Robow went to Baidoa ten days ago where he was well received. However, a few days after his announcement, the Somali federal government denounced his candidacy and castigated him as unfit to run for office, stating that the requirements for lifting his past international sanction have not yet been met.

The issue of Robow’s candidacy is as complex as Somalia’s political landscape. It highlights the Somali government’s incompetence in formulating and implementing policies, its failure to speak in one credible voice, and in the dubious role played by competing interests, both foreign and domestic.

Who’s in charge?

It’s not clear how Robow — who has been under the protection and watchful eye of the Somali federal government security forces — left  Mogadishu in a plane and landed in Baidoa, the seat of the SW regional government, without the full knowledge of top leaders in the federal government.

It was the Ministry of Security, not the Council of Ministers, that issued the statement banning Robow from running for public office. The document bears no name and no signature.

“It appears to be authentic, but poorly presented,” an anonymous former official of the Ministry of Security told me.

Through all this, Villa Somalia, the seat of the presidency, has remained silent. This chaotic bureaucratic bungling is common for the current administration, and it begs the question: Who is actually in charge of the government? We all remember the handing over of Colonel Abdikarim Qalbi-dhagax, a Somali citizen, to Ethiopia last year and the ensuing chaos of who was to blame for the debacle.

For the past few days, the government has been in damage control mode. Prime Minister Hassan Kheyre has vowed to investigate the Robow matter. Why Prime Minister Kheyre did not initially object to Robow’s candidacy is puzzling. It could be due to domestic pressure from certain groups, an issue we will address later. Being reactive rather than proactive has been the norm for the current Somali government.

Competing interests
Competing foreign and domestic interests are at odds in Robow’s case.

The U.S. continues to play a major role in Somalia’s war against Al-Shabaab. The country had placed a $5 million bounty on the head of Robow and his former colleagues in the terror group. Last year, American officials were intimately involved in Robow’s surrender to the Somali government and the terms of his protection and safety in Mogadishu.

The Americans must have been in the loop regarding the decision to let Robow run for office.  American officials have been meeting regularly with elders from the SW region to learn about the possibility of the former rebel leader running for office. According to reliable sources in the SW, the elders have supported Robow’s candidacy, believing he would be an agent of change, especially in ameliorating security conditions in their region. They came out of these meetings, believing Robow had the blessing of the U.S.

It is not inconceivable for the U.S. to endorse former militant leaders to become part of the political process. It happened in Afghanistan, with such leaders as Hikmatyar, Rabbani, and Haqqani, as well as in Iraq, with the likes of Muqtada al-Sadr. It also happened in Somalia, when Sheikh Sharif, the former leader of the Union of the Islamic Courts, was captured and released, and later became President of Somalia. And then there is the case of Ahmed Madobe, the former rebel leader, who once was the number two man in Al-Shabaab, and has been the President of Jubbaland State for the past six years.

Perhaps the U.S. views Robow as someone who can bring stability to the volatile SW region, where al-Shabaab is mostly in control. He might be a better alternative than Sharif Hassan, the current leader of the region. Robow may know how to deal with Al-Shabaab because he is well-versed in their tactics and inner workings. He also has one advantage: most of the foot soldiers of Al-Shabaab belong to his Rahanweyn clan.

The U.S. has security interests in the SW; it uses the Ballidoogle airfield to combat Al-Shabaab. Recently, a North Carolina company was awarded a $12 million-dollar to upgrade and expand the airfield, which in the future might serve as an alternative to the American base in Djibouti.

Is the U.S. against Robow’s candidacy? It doesn’t seem so because the issue of his candidacy, as outlined above, has been discussed with Somali federal leaders and SW elders for a long time.

Where do neighboring countries (Ethiopia and Kenya) stand on Robow?

It is difficult to gauge where Ethiopia stands. The current regime in Addis Ababa, under the leadership of Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed, may be neutral on Robow’s candidacy because it has more pressing internal issues, such as ethnic violence and regional unrest. The previous regime before Ahmed, however, was more attuned to supporting and bolstering President Sharif Hassan. It may be that the nation’s foreign policy will not change direction drastically and that Addis Ababa might be apprehensive about having Robow lead an important, strategic, and neighboring Somali regional state, such as the South West.

On the other hand, Ethiopia may not see Robow or his former Al-Shabaab group, as a major threat. Ethiopia and Al-Shabaab continue to coexist peacefully. Al-Shabaab does not target Ethiopia nor does it engage in terrorist acts inside Ethiopia, and the Ethiopian forces deliberately avoid engaging in battles with Al-Shabaab. In a way, there is an unwritten agreement between the two entities. Sometimes, Ethiopian troops inside Somalia peacefully withdraw from certain towns, and Al-Shabaab fighters move in, thereby resulting in no clashes between their forces.

Kenya differs from Ethiopia because it has serious problems with Al-Shabaab. There are constant Al-Shabaab bombings inside its territory. Moreover, Kenya has thousands of troops inside Somalia. However, the idea that Kenya has enough power to pressure the Somali federal government regarding Robow’s candidacy is tenuous.

Business and tribal interests

The role of business conglomerates or tribal groups in Somali politics cannot be underestimated. Sometimes these two groups overlap. This is especially obvious in the Lower Shebelle region, where various clan militias have been fighting and vying for power. Some of these clans are intricately aligned with President Sharif Hassan, who has given them the authority to operate checkpoints on the roads that connect Marka and Afgooye to Mogadishu.

These checkpoints are lucrative, generating millions of dollars, and they are controlled by rogue members of the Somali national army, business/tribal groups, or Al-Shabaab. The business and tribal groups want to maintain the status quo, and they see Robow’s candidacy as a clear, and present danger to their interests. Robow has vowed to close down all the checkpoints in the SW region, especially those in the Lower Shebelle.

Some say Prime Kheyre is responding to pressure from some of these business and tribal groups that have expressed their displeasure at Robow’s candidacy. Some of the stakeholders of this business/tribal group control the air transportation sector between Baidoa and Mogadishu because the roads are not under the government’s control. The veracity of these reports remains to be seen.

What’s next?

Next month, it will be interesting to see if Robow stays in the race. The head of the National Intelligence and Security Services (NISA) was in Baidoa ten days ago negotiating with Robow to force him to withdraw from the race. Robow adamantly rejected this suggestion, saying that he had met with President Farmajo to discuss the matter. Moreover, he said his candidacy is for the people of the SW region to decide.

The federal government is in a bind. Robow has become a celebrity due to Mogadishu’s decision to bar him from running for office. The NISA delegation that met him were confronted by armed people willing to defend the former rebel group. Robow has told some of the SW elders he is confounded by a leadership that can not speak with one voice. It is the same federal government that has given him a diplomatic passport to travel to Saudi Arabia for a pilgrimage and gave him an official Interpol Clearance letter.

The current president of the SW, Sharif Hassan, is reveling in the political quagmire surrounding Robow’s candidacy because he does not want elections to take place in November. Any delay in the elections is a sure extension of his term. There are also other reports he may not be a candidate.

There are ten members of the Federal Parliament in Mogadishu from the SW region who are candidates for the President of the SW. Former president Hassan Sheikh and his opposition group have their candidate in Farkeeto, the former Finance Minister. Some in the federal government have an alternative candidate other than Robow: Abdiaziz Hassan “Lafta Gareen,” a parliamentarian. The head of NISA, who has resigned, is also a possible candidate. The current president of the SW, Sharif Hassan, is reveling with the political quagmire surrounding Robow’s candidacy because he does not want elections taking place in November. Any delay of the elections is a sure extension of his term.

Robow has been a quick hand in politics. His candidacy has mobilized a segment in the SW that is disenchanted with the way the region is governed. He has called for women to be included in the Election Commission. His speeches have tapped into the sentiments of those who want security in their region and see any federal interference in their affairs as an affront.

“It makes no sense that Ali Dheere (an Al-Shabaab spokesman) wants to chase me in the bushes and PM Kheyre doesn’t want me in Baidoa,” Robow said. Both men he mentioned belong to the same clan.

Regardless of what happens, Robow’s candidacy is a nightmare for the SW region, which has many highly qualified politicians with no history of blood on their hands. It was a coup for the Somali people to see one of the top leaders of Al-Shabaab defect and denounce his old colleagues, but to reward him with political leadership is a travesty. One only has to look at the example of Ahmed Madobe, also a former rebel leader, who hasn’t been able to drive Al-Shabaab from Jubbaland.  Besides, don’t these former terrorists ever ask for forgiveness from the Somali people and the families of the people they had killed?

The ideal situation is to require former terrorist leaders like Robow to take part in rehabilitation programs before they can assume office. It would be wise to introduce a requirement that all Somali leaders with a violent past be banned from running for or holding office until they prove they have been rehabilitated. Until that happens, Somalia will be populated with dubious characters in its political landscape—men like Robow, Madobe, and some former warlords in parliament with a similar violent past.

A Hate Crime in Mogadishu: An Introspective Time

The recent murder and burning in Mogadishu of Ahmed Mukhtar Salah “Ahmed Dowlo”, a family man and father of 12 children, was a human tragedy that has elicited widespread outrage and condemnation from many Somalis.

Besides the horrific manner in which Ahmed Dowlo, a Somali Bantu, died, the reason for his death evoked disbelief and dismay. Unlike other victims of violence in the city, he was not killed by an Al-Shabaab terrorist, a wayward bullet from an ill-trained soldier, or by liquidation from a business rival. His murder was simply a hate crime.  His nephew, Mohamed, had married a young lady, Ruqia, from a bigger tribe. The message was clear: A man “from a lower caste clan” has no business marring someone from a “better clan lineage.”  The heinous crime was committed by five individuals, three of them women, using spears, fish hooks, machetes, and a can of gasoline.  It was an act of unpatrolled barbarity inflicted on a victim who was totally innocent. 

Historically, Somalis have discriminated against the Somali Bantu, the Madhiban, the Tumal, and the Yibir and treated them unfairly as low-caste citizens. Many clans simply shun these minority groups and seldom intermarry with them.  

The government of Siad Barre (1969-1991) was the first to openly condemn injustice and discrimination toward minorities. By opening the doors of equality and justice before the law to minority groups, Barre sent a clear message to Somalis: no more discrimination and no more asking people about their clans Nevertheless, social practices of discrimination against the minorities persisted.

The burning and killing of Ahmed Dowlo for being a Bantu comes as a defining moment in the modern history of Mogadishu, one that has sent ripples of shame and disgust through Somali society. In the past, there have been some incidents of violence and deeply entrenched discrimination in the northern part of the country. But this murder in Mogadishu was a shocker. The capital of Somalia has always been a favorite for many minorities because no one cares much about their clan identity. However, in the north, where the question “Qolamaa tahay?” to which clan do you belong?) is as normal as greeting someone with “How are you?” Mogadishu is home to all kinds of Somali clans.

The recent hate crime was brutal and unique in its atrocity. The use of machetes, spears, fish hooks, and gasoline was a culmination of evil intent and sheer disregard for the sanctity of life. Fortunately, many Somalis condemned the crime vigorously and the mass media outlets, such as Dalsan TV (the best reporting, so far), RTN Channel, Universal TV, Hiiraan online, Facebook, and Twitter did a commendable job. I think a few good things came out of this crisis, such as the need for a bottom-up approach to social justice, one that focuses on pursuing criminals and financially compensating the victims, developing leadership among the youth, and defining the role social media can play as agents of change. This interest also is for us to reexamine our religious faith.

Bottom-up change

Realistically, the Somali federal government is too weak to be an agent of change for social justice. The recent deterioration in security in Mogadishu is unprecedented. In the span of one week, children as young as four and nine were killed; a young college student was assassinated in her class in front of her professor and classmates. And there was the hate crime against Ahmed Dowlo. The Somali president and his prime minister have yet to issue a statement about these gruesome crimes. No government official attended Ahmed Dowlo’s funeral. In fact, the president was attending a soccer game the day after Ahmed Dowlo was buried.

In the absence of a viable federal government, it is the people and the grassroots organizations that need to mobilize against acts of discrimination and injustice. There are many NGOs in Mogadishu. Perhaps, the fight for justice, fairness, and equal protection before the law should be the rallying call for many of these entities.

Equally important is the formation of grassroots organizations by the minority groups themselves to further their cause and document any discriminatory acts or harassment.

 Youth as pioneers

I have written about the centrality of youth in any change that must happen in Somalia. I am pleased with the level of outrage and condemnation of this hate crime by the young people. They have been incandescent with anger and were the most active on social media—they talked about the crime, shared streams of news and stories, and registered their disdain of acts of discrimination and inhumanity. Hundreds marched in protest during the victim’s funeral. I am positive they will continue to talk about the pernicious disease of discrimination and racism in Somalia.

The young couple’s marriage, which infuriated the perpetrators of the crime, were simply in love and had no intention of making unwanted headlines. In a way, their marriage was an act of defiance to anachronistic, racist cultural mores.

Focus on the criminals, too

It is good that many Somalis have offered to help the victim’s family. However, there should be an all-out campaign to apprehend the perpetrators of the crime. Only one of them is in custody, and the rest are being assisted by friends or relatives to evade the authorities. I strongly urge that a generous reward be posted all around the country for the capture of these dangerous criminals. The victim’s family was wise and courageous to decline any financial compensation (diya) from the relatives of the criminals, as is the custom in many parts of Somalia. Instead, the family asked for justice in a court of law.

Demonizing an entire clan

Just as it is wrong to demean and maltreat members of minority clans, it is also unfair and misguided to castigate the clan of the perpetrators. Members of this clan did not commit this grisly crime, it is evil act of a few people. They are the ones who should be condemned and shamed, not their clan.

Reexamining religious beliefs

There is a dichotomy between Somalis’ Islamic belief in equality, justice, and kindness and their cultural sense of superiority over certain people, who are fellow Muslim brethren.  

A young man once challenged an elderly man about discriminating against  minorities. The elderly man, like many Somalis, was a complex person. He said, “I know we are Muslims, son, but we have our culture, too.” Mixing culture and religion has become a game of musical chairs. For Somalis, culture often supersedes religious moral values, thereby making a mockery of such values, which in turn demeans the culture.

I have heard the cries for justice and respect by Somali Bantu leaders. One member of the Federal Parliament questioned why members of his community in America can marry white Americans, and not Somalis. Some Bantu have lamented: “Jamaykaan waa guursanee, Jareerna waa diide” (You marry a Jamaican, yet you reject a Jareer (Bantu).

Finally, I would like to mention an anecdote concerning an encounter between a Somali woman in California, whose daughter eloped with an African-American, and a Somali Bantu man.   

“What am I going to do?” the woman said. “I am angry and disappointed with my daughter.”

“In Somalia, no one would let us Bantu marry the daughters of other Somalis,” the man said, sarcastically. “How sad!”

“But these Americans are Muslims,” the woman said, seeking sympathy.

“Oh I see, and we, the Somali Bantu, are not Muslims!”

I saw the woman cry and apologize to the man. It was a moment of reflection and introspection for both of them and some of us who were there to hear the exchange. Somalis need to reconcile their Islamic faith, which abhors and prohibits discrimination, injustice, and cruelty, and condemns the unjust subjugation of minority groups. The good aspects of Somali culture, such as boundless generosity, kindness, compassion, and good neighborliness must be nourished and reinforced. Now, all Somalis have to add justice, egalitarianism for all, human rights, and respect for the sanctity of human life.

Mogadishu: A Syrian Doctor's View

In mid-August this year, I spent a week in Mogadishu attending the annual book fair there. The general manager of my hotel was a Kenyan, and an Egyptian chef also worked there. I chatted with them briefly and asked about their job experiences in Mogadishu and their impressions of the city and its residents. Their answers were short, but they did not reveal much. Then, in early September, I stumbled upon a live Facebook presentation titled (in Arabic) “The Migration of Arab Doctors to Somalia,” by Doctor Ashraf (no last name was provided). Luckily, he was waiting for more participants to join the live program.

A few minutes after I joined, he started his talk in a quiet, smooth Syrian dialect. Ashraf said he wanted to share his experiences about his life and job as a dentist in Mogadishu. More Arab doctors, both men and women, kept joining the program. For the purposes of length and clarity, here is a condensed version of Ashraf’s presentation:

On securing the job

A friend, a fellow Syrian dentist, recommended that I come to Mogadishu. Not just any foreigner can go and work there—you have to have a job contract through an employer, who will in turn send you a visa and an airline ticket. When you arrive in Mogadishu, the employer will secure a residency permit for you. Because there are no Somali embassies now in many Arab countries, you can get your visa at Mogadishu airport for $60.

On salaries

The average Arab dentist makes between $1,000 and $1,300 per month, plus a five or ten percent commission for every procedure. Those with experience or who are specialists make close to $2,500 per month. A recent graduate of dentistry will not be hired there, as at least one year’s experience is required. The good thing is that dentists can often save their whole salary because employers provide housing and sometimes food.

If you have to pay your food expenses, it is relatively cheap; I don’t spend more than $150 per month on food in Mogadishu.

On diet

The food is ok, but there aren’t many vegetables and fruits in the Somali diet. I do miss Syrian food, which includes all kinds of vegetables. Sometimes, I go to the supermarket in Mogadishu, where I can get all types of food and snacks, like anywhere else in the world. Somalis get a lot of stuff, ranging from medical devices to various types of food, from Dubai.

Weather

Mogadishu has beautiful weather, with a breezy wind that is lovely. I was in Khartoum, Sudan, before, and it is very hot there, just like the Gulf countries. Mogadishu is hot only in March. Sometimes I go to the beach, which is within walking distance.

On security

I can’t say whether it is very safe here or not. When I go to the supermarket, a guard comes with me until I finish my errands. Occasionally, there are bombings that lead to blockades in the city; however, it is fine overall.

Language

Somali is a distinct language with a Latin alphabet. We have assistants who also serve as interpreters, and they speak Arabic or English.

Somali patients

There are patients who really make me happy when I am treating them. However, some get frustrated with me at times due to the language barrier and the inadequacy of translation. The Somalis are good people, and they are all Muslims.

 Diseases

For the year I have been here, I have encountered only two patients with Hepatitis B, and this only came out while I was doing their medical history. There are cases of malaria, but I don’t think there are problems with other diseases.

Number of Arab doctors

We have mostly Syrians here. I met two Egyptian doctors who are general practitioners and two Yemenis working in a lab. The doctors get together every Friday; in fact, we are having a party tomorrow, which will be attended by 28 doctors. Most of the Arab doctors are men, although there are two couples, both husband and wife doctors. Personally, I do not encourage female doctors to come and work here. It is challenging enough for bachelors, let alone families. I do not know much about schools for children, but I know there are Somali universities and some even teach medicine.

Corruption

Occasionally, the agency sponsoring doctors may engage in misconduct. A contract may be cancelled after three months in favor of a new, cheaper contract. You may lose about $900 or a month’s salary as a victim of such misdeeds. Unfortunately, this has happened to me and some others, too. I invite Arab doctors to come and work here, but I tell them I will not be responsible for anything that has to do with job contracts.

What is next?

In five days, I will complete my one year of work in Mogadishu. Generally, we work 11 months, and the last month is a paid vacation with free airline tickets. I may stay here one more month or two, but I doubt I will be here for six more months. I may look for another job opportunity elsewhere.

End of the presentation

*** 

Conclusion

In a nutshell, the fact that there are foreign doctors working in Mogadishu seems a positive development. It shows the potential the city has for job opportunities, booming business, and creative enterprises. Mogadishu has different attributes that do not revolve around government corruption, political impasses, and terrorist bombings. There is another side of the city that operates without being hampered by a state of fear or endless political chatter.

The Arab doctors all saw an opportunity in Mogadishu that is financially rewarding and adventurously intriguing. It is interesting that some foreign doctors are willing to take risks by working in Mogadishu when many of us Somalis in the diaspora are suffering from psychological impediments that shackle our desire to move there. To many of us, a return to Somalia is viewed through the narrow prism of seeking a government job. Mogadishu has other opportunities that need to be explored or created.

Mogadishu Book Fair: A Cause for Celebration

They came in droves: youth, writers, poets, educators, and government officials. All were jubilant, excited, and eager to hear, learn, or share.

This was the scene at the Mogadishu Book Fair (MBF), held in the capital of Somalia from August 15 to August 17, 2018.

Mogadishu is a major cosmopolitan city, with a population of over two million people, but it has no single public library and no commercial bookstore. This is a city in a recovery mode, following more than two decades of civil war, in which many major institutions were destroyed. That’s why this book fair was a real cause for celebration.

The last four years have seen an annual book fair in Mogadishu, held in part to remind the world that there is more to the city than guns, Al-Shabaab, and the oppression of violence and fear.

Hundreds of new books were on display, addressing countless subjects, from history, literature, literacy, and politics, to arts, self-help books, and studies of contemporary affairs. These books covered an immense range of topics, from love, courtship and family matters, to war, conflict, and migration.

The book fair attracted hundreds of youth—90 percent of attendees were between the ages of 16 and 25—who came to stand in the security lines early in the morning to enter the event. They came to hear what their guests at the fair had to say, and they were not disappointed. Their enthusiasm for knowledge that they expressed was unparalleled, their love for reading knew no rival, and their desire to share their impressions of the book fair on social media was infectious.

One young woman boasted on Facebook that she was so excited with the book fair that she bought 100 books at the book fair. Her striking claim will not be investigated, but then again no one will invalidate her unbridled enthusiasm and exuberance.

Mahad Wasuge, a researcher at the Heritage Institute for Policy Studies, a panelist at the fair, keeps a verifiable account of the number of books he purchases. Every year for the past four years, Mahad said, he has been expanding his modest personal library at the fair. This year alone, Mahad said, he bought eight books there, bringing the total number of books from the fair to 40.

Wasuge, who grew up in Beledweyne, recalled that his hometown had only a small library, established by a Somali man from the diaspora. It gave youngsters like him books to read and a safe place to gather. Moreover, he recalled the library volunteers handing out free pens and paper to the patrons.

The organizers of the event recognized the power of social media and its impact on the youth. They set up tables staffed by a dozen young people, who shared the events unfolding at the book fair with the outside world. The announcers constantly urged the audience to share their impressions with their friends and followers. A live broadcast of the entire event was beamed across the globe.

Professor Paul Williams of George Washington University became a minor celebrity at the fair and was constantly accosted to appear in selfies.

“I don’t know why I am popular,” he quipped.

One young man took a picture with Williams and then turned to him and said: “Who are you?”

Williams’ book-length study, War and Conflict in Africa, was on display at the book fair. While he was talking to the writer of this article, he saw a young man who had bought the expensive book. Williams asked him why.

“Why do you want to know?” the young man asked.

“Because I wrote the book,” Williams said.

The young man was unfazed.

“Good, because I have a few questions for you,” the young man said. Then he began to grill Williams about specific lines in his book.

“I am impressed,” Williams said, laughing.

The writers, poets, panelists, and educators who attended the book fair were interesting in different ways.  Many young people, both men and women, presented their own books or participated sessions on reading, literacy, education, and literature. One young lady, 19 years old, had written an interesting book titled Qaran-Dumis (Nation-Destroying).

The legendary poet and educator Said Salah Ahmed was among the literary figures present. His presentation pulsated with passion. His commanding presence, tart tongue, and breadth of knowledge of Somali literature was electrifying. Euphoria was pervasive in the hall as Ahmed energized the young audience, and showed them the way to be proud of their language and heritage.

Equally impressive was another teacher from Hargeisa, Ahmed Badal, whose two short speeches about literature were captivating and incisive.

The artist, Osman Abdinur, from Las Anod, was also there, a former broadcaster with Radio Mogadishu before the civil war. He captivated the audience. A high-octane man with certain swagger, and a razor-sharp sense of humor, Osman gave an informative talk about certain peculiarities of the Somali language. The audience kept applauding in a frenzy of cheers and laughter.

Some Somali government officials descended on the book fair and rubbed shoulders with the crowd. The mayor of Mogadishu, Abdirahman Omar “Yariisow” the deputy prime minister, Mahad Guled, performed opening ceremonies of the fair on the first day, and Prime Minister Hassan Kheyre concluded it. In between, luminaries such as Abdi Hashi, the speaker of the Upper House, Ahmed I. Awad, the foreign minister, Bashe Yusuf Ahmed, chairman of the Supreme Court, and Gamal Hassan, minister of planning, appeared. Some of these officials bought books and encouraged the audience to read, write, and appreciate the golden opportunity of having such an important event in their city, after so many years of war and conflict.

The Mogadishu Book Fair was a celebration of reading, writing, and sharing. Over the years, clamorous voices have said, with obvious relish, that Mogadishu was too dangerous to host an elaborate event such as a book fair. The youth who attended the event presented a different narrative—one that showed a Mogadishu with lots of possibilities that the doubters never imagined. They showed a narrative wherein the young could celebrate books and appreciate literature instead of wielding guns. They displayed openness, not narrow-mindedness, reinforcing inclusiveness while shunning exclusion. They showed that what unites Somalis, from Hargeisa to Kismayo, from Cadaado to Jigjiga, from Garissa to Bossasso, is not only their language and heritage but also the celebration of books and literature.

The mood of the book fair’s organizers was not self-congratulatory. They were already looking ahead at a bright future. They want to expand the length of the event, from three days to a week, and to hold the fair in different parts of Mogadishu, including Lido, the national library when it is completed, and the main stadium. The book fair is a testament to the cultural rebirth of a once-dead city rising from the ashes—it could not have scripted it better if you were writing a movie. Stay tuned.

Lul Kulmiye: A Woman of Vision and Action

When Lul “Araweelo” Kulmiye was a child, she had big dreams.

“I will work with a pen and notebook in my hand,” she recalled saying.

Recently, when she found herself standing in a Norwegian court interpreting for Somalis, she realized that her dream has become reality.

“Wow!” she gasped. “It never occurred to me before to connect my childhood aspirations with my current professional work.”

A certified nurse by training and experience, Lul has become more than a professional interpreter. She has worked as a community advocate, women’s rights activist, and human rights crusader.

Lul became a well-known Somali community activist and leader through a freak accident in 2005.

“I was working along with a Norwegian nursing student when I hurt my right hand,” she explained.

Initially, she didn’t feel any discomfort, but after a few hours, she felt an intense pain. She went to an emergency room and was told she had broken her hand and wouldn’t be working for two weeks.

“I was supposed to start a summer job when the accident happened,” she added ruefully.

Those two weeks of medical leave turned out to be anything but restful—they were the foundation of her community activism.

Several thousand miles away in Mogadishu, Somalia, a story was brewing about the plight of Halima Hirre, a 3-year-old girl from the Somali region in Ethiopia, who had a tumor in her genitalia. When Lul heard about Halima, she was heartbroken.

“I am a mother, a human being, and I wanted to help,” she said.

Lul began contacting various health organizations—the Red Cross, Doctors without Borders, and humanitarian groups—to help Halima, but to no avail.

Representatives of these organizations told Lul there was nothing they could do because they didn’t help individuals. In other words, she needed to be a nonprofit entity. Some staff members advised her to approach the media for help with her cause.

Thus Lul’s quest to save Halima began.

She wrote first to Dagsavisen, a Norwegian daily newspaper. Then, she approached Dayniile online magazine to advocate for Halima. Instead, she was interviewed by the magazine and she told Halima’s story. What happened next was an unprecedented humanitarian event that brought together Somalis in the diaspora.

“Somalis in Australia, America, Europe, the Middle East, and Asia were calling me to inquire about Halima, and some donated funds for her,” said Lul, recalling her surprise and excitement.

After witnessing her ceaseless energy and determination as she tried to find a hospital for the young girl, some people asked her if Halima belonged to her clan. No, she was’nt.

Lul spent months talking to Somalis in the diaspora; from America to Malaysia, and everywhere in between. Her goal was to raise $30,000, and she brought in about $25,000 for Halima in a short period—all over the phone. The drive rallied other Somalis until the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota in the United States agreed to operate on Halima. Lul sent $10,000 as a down payment to the hospital to begin the U.S. visa process for Halima and her father.

That’s when something miraculous happened:

“A Somali man donated all the travel expenses for Halima and her father and found her a hospital in Vienna, Austria, that would treat the girl for free,” Lul said. Plans for the Mayo Clinic treatment suddenly became redundant.

Lul, then a single mother with three young children, took time off from work, asked a relative to look after her children. She flew to Austria, where she met Halima and her father at the Vienna hospital. She translated for the family for the first week of their stay. During Halima’s medical check, doctors also discovered that she had leukemia.

“I was elated to help Halima and was grateful for the trust her family had bestowed upon me,” Lul said.

Then, people came forward who claimed to be from the same clan as Halima. They wanted the $25,000 donation for her care to be given to the family.  Lul carefully and deliberately consulted with the donors and many of her supporters about what to do with the money. A consensus was reached to give half the money to Halima’s family and to use the other half to help a boy from Galkacayo, Somalia, who was to be flown to Columbus, Ohio, for urgent surgery. His operation was successful.

Halima’s successful case earned Lul a new moniker “Kulmiso” (the Unifier), and she was encouraged to form an organization to assist Somali immigrants and refugees in Norway and elsewhere. But a new scenario was unfolding at home: She needed to focus on raising her children, who had been missing her while she worked on Halima’s humanitarian campaign.

Lul started volunteering at her children’s school and in their extracurricular activities. She was relentless in making sure her children received whatever help they needed.

Yet, Somalis in Norway needed her community services.

Lul became active in the G-10 Peace and Reconciliation for Somalia, a community-based organization in Norway that served Somalis. She became a member of its executive committee and its spokeswoman.

“Within a year, we raised funds to help in the cleanup campaign of Mogadishu streets,” she said.

Her community activism took significant leap in 2014 when she became one of the founders of the Global Somali Diaspora. She has been Norway’s representative of the group ever since and was later elected to its board of directors.

A year later, Lul attended the Somali Diaspora Conference in Kigali, Rwanda, which included 40 female delegates and 50 male delegates across the globe. However, an incident at that conference launched her advocacy role inside Somalia’s political landscape.

Omar Abdirashid Sharmarke, who was then prime minister of Somalia, submitted a list of his proposed new cabinet. There was a glaring weakness: It included only two female ministers and one deputy minister. Lul and her female colleagues were outraged by the underrepresentation of women, and they peacefully protested. Their historic group photograph in Rwanda became a rallying cry for Somali women and their inclusion in government.

 Prime Minister Sharmarke reconsidered his cabinet list and named three female ministers (out of 20) and two deputy ministers. It was a small win for Lul and her colleagues, but nevertheless a victory. The protest ushered in a new era of women’s activism.

Another setback for women occurred when the Somali federal government’s transitional framework, better known as “Vision 2016,” organized a gathering in Minneapolis. The meeting included no women.

“This setback was a blessing,” Lul said, laughing. “It led to the formation of the Somali Gender Equity Movement.”

Suddenly, many women joined the movement to ensure their voices were heard, and they have become an integral part of the decision-making process.

“Within weeks, the movement had 8,600 members,” she said, beaming. “We had ten founders, including myself.”

It became essential to consider the group’s activism inside Somalia, which was getting ready for the 2016 presidential and parliamentary elections. At the time, only 14 percent legislators out of 275 were women. The Somali government and the internationally community wanted the next Somali federal parliament to have a minimum of female representation of 30 percent.

However, Lul and her female colleagues had much loftier goals: They wanted a female president, a female prime minister, or a female speaker.

“Realistically, we wanted to increase female representation in parliament from 14 percent to 40 percent,” Lul explained.

Lul and her colleagues lobbied hard with Somali government officials, elders, regional government leaders, and the press to drastically increase the number of elected female officials. The result was 24 female women.

“It was slightly better than the 14 female law-makers in the previous parliament,” Lul explained.

Lul is realistic about the clan-based power sharing arrangement in Somalia, better known as the 4.5 system. She knows it is flawed because it favors men and disenfranchises women.

“The quality of some of the current elected female legislators may not be impressive due to the lack of educational and governmental experience,” Lul admitted.

That’s why she is adamant about the need for change in the political process.

“I don’t care if some female legislators are not qualitatively impressive. Women have to have representation,” she explained. “There are some men, former warlords, in the legislature who had blood soaking in their hands.”

The struggle for female representation in the Somali government has become Lul’s new calling. She and Zainab M. Hassan, chairwoman of the Somali Gender Equity Movement, have traveled across Somalia, meeting with women, listening to their concerns, and making sure their voices are heard.

Lul, who has won countless awards for her activism, has a special appreciation for one medal she received from Said Salah, the legendary literary figure and educator. He presented her with a symbolic camel bell on behalf of all her fellow women activists.

Salah explained that the camel bell has special significance. Somalis were involved in civil war and the she-camel that had worn the bell had perished. Her young herder had gone crazy; and what is left of the she-camel is her bell. Somalis use various camel bells on their camels, depending on the animal’s disposition. The fastest camel wears a special bell so that she could be heard when she is far away; the slowest camel, which hangs around home, has also special bell to indicate she is around.

“I am giving you the camel bell for the fastest camel because you work at a faster pace in advocating on behalf of women,” Salah told Lul. “Let us hear from each other even when you are far away.”

Lul’s childhood dream of growing up to work with a pen and a notebook has been fulfilled. Her next dream is even grander: She wants equal representation of women in politics, social, and the economy. She wants to fight discrimination, sexism and misogyny, and stand for the qualitative improvement of women’s conditions. She also wants to protect women from experiencing constant provocations and slights from unjust leaders.

“It is a huge task that we, women from all walks of life, want to accomplish,” she added. “Of course, we can do it with the help of everyone, including men.”

Ibrahim Dheere Finally Speaks Up

Ibrahim M. Hussein—better known as “Ibrahim Dheere,” the Chairman of the United Western Somali Liberation Front (UWSLF) in the Somali region of Ethiopia—is now in the news, after many years of silence.

Sporting a well-trimmed beard, Ibrahim Dheere taped a statement on July 20, 2018, that he dubbed a “press conference” and presented some interesting proclamations. The timing of his appearance on social media recently has raised more questions than answers. Why now? What does he want?

The controversial cleric once served as an imam in a mosque in Seattle, Washington, but was arrested by the U.S. authorities on allegations of immigration fraud and terrorist ties and was deported to Kenya. Back in Somalia, he headed the UWSLF, an Islamic group, which was engaged in guerilla warfare inside the Somali region of Ethiopia.

In 2010, Ibrahim and his group decided to lay down their arms and sign a peace treaty with Addis Ababa. They were given amnesty and they renounced violence and insurrection against Ethiopia. Ibrahim’s political capitulation generated intense debates among Somali nationalists; some were caught off guard by his move, while others denounced him as a “sellout” and a “traitor.” Among Islamists, the treaty was the subject of much discussion and speculation. Some castigated him as a heretic, while others welcomed the treaty as a realistic move to give respite to a small Islamic group in which victory had eluded.

But again, where has Ibrahim been for the past several years?

It depends on who you ask.

The man himself has a simple explanation: He said he’s been busy working on “peaceful endeavors” to help his people better their lives and conditions by providing them with social, economic, and political services. However, his services, he said, have been torpedoed by what he calls the evil machinations of the “past federal regime in Addis Ababa” and the regional state in Jigjiga under the leadership of Abdi M. Omar, also known as Abdi iley.

“They [the federal and state governments] were anti-reform and anti-change,” Ibrahim said.

Ibrahim does not mention in his statement that he had a fall out with Abdi Iley several years ago and that he has been in Malaysia pursuing graduate studies.

The subject of Malaysia is rather painful for Ibrahim, as this writer had learned the hard way when he tried to interview him last year. It connotes the kind of remoteness—both physical and emotional—that politicians don’t like to be reminded of by their followers. For them, the mantra is: “I am still here and relevant.”  

After Ibrahim had signed the treaty with the Ethiopian government, he was in celebratory mood. In Jigjiga, he and his associates were received with jubilations and fanfare. Speeches were given lauding the treaty and songs and dances were performed—white pigeons were even released.

 But the honeymoon between Ibrahim and Abdi Iley was short-lived. It was followed by rancor and accusations by Abdi Iley, who accused Ibrahim and his associates of disloyalty and conspiracy. Finally, the two leaders went their separate ways and Ibrahim left Jigjiga. Ibrahim’s group floundered, and some of his former fighters found a new home in Abdi Iley’s brutal Liyu Police.

For Ibrahim’s detractors, he had become a non-factor. For some of his loyalists, the turn of events was a big disappointment.

“Ibrahim has squandered many opportunities after the peace treaty,” said one cleric, who is still a supporter of Ibrahim. “No one talks about him anymore, and that’s the death knell of a leader.”

Ibrahim wants the Somali people in Ethiopia to know that he has something to offer. He gives the appearance of someone who has not been absent for the past few years, but rather was busy working on their behalf and the improvement of their welfare. He said he has to speak up now because “the situation in the Somali region has become untenable.” It is an environment beset with murder, torture, banishment, and fear.

In spite of this climate of fear, Ibrahim assured his audience that his group was instrumental in helping with the talks between the Ethiopian government and the Ogaden National Liberation Front (ONLF), the only remaining armed group in the region, early this year. Those talks, Ibrahim, lamented, had failed.

Now that there is a new administration in Addis Ababa headed by Prime Minister Abiye Ahmed, Ibrahim declared he supports the premier’s changes and reforms. In fact, Ibrahim explained, that he “supports all those who want to bring change to Ethiopia.” The Somali region is the only federated state in Ethiopia, Ibrahim said, that has not experienced any viable change or reform. The blame, he said, falls on the shoulders of Abdi Iley in Jigjiga and his toxic leadership.

In his statement, Ibrahim admits a shocking revelation.

“We knew what was going on in ‘Jaill Ogaden’” he said, referring to the notorious prison in Jigjiga that serves as torture chamber.

If Ibrahim knew about Jail Ogaden, why was he is silent all these years?

Perhaps, he himself was afraid of Abdi Iley. Or, could it be that his silence was merely political expediency?

What about Abdi Iley and Ibrahim after their split a few years ago?

“During Ramadan this year,” Ibrahim said, “I met Abdi Iley in Jigjiga and pleaded with him to spearhead the change sweeping through Ethiopia or to step aside.”

When Abdi Iley refused, Ibrahim said he pleaded with the strong man to expand his power base, but to no avail.

So far, no statement from Abdi Iley has been made about this supposed meeting.

At the end of his statement, Ibrahim called for Abdi Iley to resign immediately. He also called for a national conference to be convened to discuss the situation in the Somali region. He recommended that this conference develop what he called a “roadmap.” Finally, Ibrahim requested that the new Ethiopian prime minister send federal troops to end the ongoing killings between the Somali and Oromo nationalities.

Ibrahim’s statement sparked bewilderment and outrage in certain circles. Some have seen it as an opportunity for the former rebel leader to add his voice to the growing chorus of reform-minded people clamoring for change in Ethiopia. Some believe Ibrahim himself was a victim of Abdi Iley’s ruthless regime, as one supporter of Ibrahim said. Then, there are others who took a long view — a gloomy one — of him.

“This man betrayed his people and is now trying to jump from a derailed train,” said one young critic.

Time will tell.