Who Will Be Somalia's Next PM?

The new Somali president, Hassan Sh. Mohamoud, did not have much time to rest after his victory; the next day, a group of masked men attempted to kill him in a failed suicide mission. Then, unconfirmed reports claimed that his private email was hacked. The biggest task ahead of the president now is to appoint a prime minister, a job which has attracted all kinds of seekers and dreamers.

Former Somali president, Siad Barre, used to say, “It is not who you are [clan wise] but what you know.” In an ideal situation in which knowledge and competence matter, someone like Dr. Ahmed I. Samatar, a former journalist (BBC) and a professor of political science for 30 years in the US, would be a shoo-in for either the office of the presidency or the premiership. Samatar and Mohamoud became close friends during the presidential campaign because they had the similar priorities in saving the country. According to sources close to both men, there was even a gentleman’s agreement between the two. However, no one knows for sure if Mohamoud had similar agreements with other candidates. Moreover, Samatar is not Darod, and, in a political environment where clans matter, his chances are slim. Those advising the new president have the understanding that the next prime minister should be Darod. The challenge is to determine which sub-clan. So far, the Majertein and the Marehan are neck and neck in the competition for the position. The Marehan might have a better chance because they have history on their side. Since the Abdiqassim regime, there have been five Darod prime ministers (three Majertein, a Dhulbahante, and a Marehan). The Majertein, obviously, have taken more than their share in filling that position, thus, It will not be a surprise if history is repeated. Dr. Ali Khalif Galeyr, a Dhulbahante, is also in contention for the position but his success is not likely.

Dr. Mohamed Sh. Ali “Doodishe,” is a name on the minds of many, according to sources very close to the president. A political scientist by training, Doodishe graduated on and taught in Sudan. He is Marehan and boasts a special characteristic: He is a member of the New Blood, an Islamic group that counts on the new president. While Doodishe fulfills the clan requirement, he is not likely to cause political headaches for the president for several reasons. First, he is an Islamist from the New Blood, a group the president ideologically identifies with, and the two might have the same outlook and plan for the government. Second, according to the new constitution, the president has the power to appoint the prime minister but cannot dismiss him or her. Every Transitional Federal Government (TFG) was hampered by the endemic power struggle between its president and prime minister. This problem may no longer be as acute as it was previously because the powers of each position are clearly now delineated. “Wouldn’t it be easier for you, M. President,” Mohamoud has been told by his advisors, “to have a prime minister from our group that we can handle instead of an outsider?” According to the people very privy to the president’s thinking, he hasn’t made up his mind, but he finds the idea of Dr. Doodishe as prime minister interesting.

Doodishe, while a friend and a colleague of the new president, brings baggage of his own. It will seem unwise for an Islamist president to appoint another Islamist as prime minister. This could be problematic, because too much concentration of power in the hands of the Islamists in the executive branch torpedoes efforts of reconciliation, discourages coalition-building, and promotes the abuse of power.

If Doodishe is not selected, the other Marehan contenders are Mohamed Abdullahi Farmajo, Abdiwahab Elmi Omar “Goonjeex,” and Saacid Farah Garaad (Shirdon). The latter once came close to being appointed as prime minister in the government of Shaikh Sharif only for Farmajo to get the nod in the eleventh hour. Farmajo was a prime minister for six months and gathered mixed responses from people. He has many supporters who believe that he is clean, competent, and a nationalist. The latter is an attribute that has lost traction recently in Somali politics. But then, there are others who view Farmajo as someone who lacks political acumen, and might be a liability if the new president wants to court Puntland. That illustrates an example of what I call “the Farole factor.”

Dr. Abdirahman Sh. Mohamed “Farole” is president of Puntland. Under the new federal system adopted by Somalia, Puntland is an entity that cannot be ignored. Farole has recently intimated that Puntland might entertain the idea of deciding its future (a euphemism for secession) if a certain political leader were elected as president. That ‘certain’-leader was the former president Shaikh Sharif who lost to the new president. Farole, however, was quick to welcome the selection of President Mohamoud. The new president, of course, would need to work with Farole and Puntland, but one might ask; at what price? Will Farole have a say in the selection of the new Darod prime minister? The president has the right to appoint whomever he wants, but clan politics is a matter that involves deliberate consideration. If the Farole factor is as important as some perceive, then the new president would want to maintain working relations with Puntland. Consequently, some potential candidates for the premiership; Farmajo, Galeyr and Abdiweli, might be out. Each of these politicians has had falling out with Puntland’s strong man; Farmajo for marginalizing Puntland when he was prime minister; Galeyr for being a leader of Khatumo State, and Abdiweli for not heeding to Farole during the adoption of the new constitution, the naming of both the Elders Group and members of the parliament from Puntland. It was apparent that Abdiweli, himself a Puntlander, did not want to pander to Farole.

Abdiweli did well during his short stint as prime minister and might be re-appointed. The outgoing government headed by Shaikh Sharif and Abdiweli as its Prime Minister—in conjunction with AMISOM forces and the UN Envoy to Somalia, Ambassador Mahiga-- deserve much credit for 1) the expulsion of al-Shabab from many parts of the south, including Mogadishu, 2) the writing and adoption of the new constitution, and 3) the ending of the transitional period of the government. Moreover, he brought Puntland on board. Abdiweli’s detractors, however, emphasize the allegations of graft against him, President Shaikh Sharif and former speaker of the parliament, Sharif Hassan, by the United Nations’ Monitoring Group for Eritrea and Somalia. Abdiweli’s critics do not consider him an agent of change, and some see his close relationship with Kenya, a neighboring country which has strong territorial, economic and political interests in Somalia, disturbing.

Other Darod contenders such as Hussein Khalif (Majertein), Dr. Abdirahman Hashi (Dhulbahante), Saeed Abdullahi Dani (Majertein), and Abdirizak Osman Juriile (Dishiishe), interestingly seem to have the alleged support of Farole. Engineer Mohamoud Jama Hamud (Warsangeli) is a northerner who is also a contender, and he believes that he is uniquely qualified to work on the unification of the Somali communities.

Finally, the new president came from nowhere to trounce a sitting president. He might surprise many by appointing a newcomer, just as he is.

Somalia's New President: A Victory for Islamic Groups

On Monday, Somalia selected a new president, Hassan Sh. Mohamoud, an Islamist. Mohamoud has been an Islamic activist for a long time. He is counted as one of the sympathizers of the New Blood, a group of Islamists who broke away from al-Islah, Somalia’s Muslim Brotherhood, during the reign of the Islamic Courts Union. I use the word “counted,” because there is no record of Mohamoud as a member of any Islamic group. What is not in doubt is the fact that he is an Islamist of the Muslim Brotherhood persuasion. Rival candidate Abdurrahman Baadiyow, on the other hand, has been a member of al-Islah more than two decades.

One phenomenon that was apparent during Monday’s selection process was the prevalence of Islamists among the candidates best able to generate votes in the first round of the election. For instance, four of the six highest vote getters were Islamists: Hassan Sh. Mohamoud, Sheikh Sharif Ahmed, Abdurrahman Baadiyow, and Abdulkhadir Ossoble. Each of these four candidates is believed to represent four different trends: Tajamuc or Ala-Sheikh (Shaikh Sharif), al-Islah (Baadiyow), Ossoble (al-Ictisaam) and Mohamoud (the New Blood). Professor Afyare Elmi of Qatar University was prescient when he predicted in 2010 that Islamists would rule Somalia one day. The Arab Spring has brought the Islamic movements to the forefront of political power.

One can confidently say that the four Islamists did a remarkable job garnering votes. Baadiyow was articulate and bold in his presidential campaign speech before the Somali parliament which he declared that the current Transitional Federal Government leaders were failures. He did not get the votes that he had hoped; the recent turmoil in al-Islah did not make things easier for him. The good news is that the Islamists are more likely to learn from this new political experience. Still, the Islamists in Somalia have not reached the level at which they can mobilize the masses for political purposes and win elections. They are in an early stage where personality dominates the political process rather than the institutions. The new president did not win because he is the founder/leader of a political party called Peace and Development Party (PDP). He won, in part, by forging alliances with various clans and capitalizing on the lawmakers’ dissatisfaction with the status quo.

Somalia, like Tunisia and Egypt, will test Islamist leaders who are at the helm. Muslims in these countries have granted Islamists a chance because they see them as clean and not corrupt. Now, the ball is in the courts of the Islamists. Will they rule by building coalitions and leading by example? Will they be tolerant, unifiers, and fight for justice and equality before the law?

Many Somalis are optimistic that Somalia is headed in the right direction. It was impossible, two years ago, to move around Mogadishu safely. Today, the country is enjoying relative peace, and the days of chaos, political cannibalism, and warlords are behind us. US Republican Senator Mitch McConnell said in 2010 that he wanted President Obama to fail. Many of us, on the contrary, are praying for Somalia’s new president to succeed.

Faqash

A young Somali northerner in Toronto, who was born and raised in Mogadishu, has become a fervent supporter of Somaliland and its causes. In other words, as it is said in left-wing parlance, he has become “more Marxist than Marx.” He hangs out with die-hard Somalilanders and attends their political and social events. However, the young man has never been to Somaliland and, in fact, has never traveled beyond the city of Jowhar, which is 100 km north of Mogadishu.

One day, an elderly man new to the group approached the ‘funny’-speaking young man and asked him:

“Who are you?”

“I am Isaaq,” responded the young man.

“Isaaq is a big tribe; what is your sub-clan?”

“Habar Yonis.”

“Habar Yonis is a large sub-clan.”

The young man was baffled and, in a sign of desperation, asked the men if they could, perhaps, name for him some of the sub-clans of Habar Yonis.” “ii soo yeeriya,” he said. The men consented.

“Isihaaq?”

“No.”

“Muuse Carre?”

“No.”

“Abdalla Ismail?”

“No.”

“Reer Caynaanshe?”

The young man jumped from his chair and screamed, “Barobiyo!” (The actual word ‘proprio’ is Italian and means ‘definitely.’)

The young man, after that true incident, was dubbed “Barobiyo.”

Being given an unwanted nickname can be frustrating.

The first time I heard the word “Faqash” was in May 1991 in Djibouti. I was there to collect my mother and cousin, who were arriving from Mogadishu. I stayed in Hotel De Djibouti, which was owned and operated by an Isaaq man named Saeed. Because many people were fleeing Somalia, the hotel was fully booked. I roomed with an elderly Isaaq man, Jama, who had been wounded in the leg. He had a good business in Mogadishu and owned big tractors. In the mayhem of the civil war, Jama was shot by an unidentified bandit. He grilled me about who I was and where I had come from, and I took no offense to his line of questioning. Once he realized that I was visiting from the US and that I originally hailed from Afgooye, he became more relaxed.

At noon, Djibouti, a hot and humid city, would come to a standstill. Most of the residents stayed home in the comfort of air conditioners. That was also the time of day when the consumption of khat, a mild stimulant plant, reached its zenith. Being a non-khat consumer, I used to leave the hotel room and hang with my friend, Mohamoud Haji Abdillahi Diriye, an Isaaq merchant from Hargeisa. Jama and his friends stayed in the hotel chewing khat and ruminating on all kinds of topics. No subject was sacred. By the time I came back to the room in the evening, Jama would tease me, “waaryaa Faqash, maxaa cusub?” (Hey you Faqash, what’s up?) I did not ask Jama and his friends what the word “Faqash” meant. Frankly, I thought it was a nickname or a purely nonsensical word. To me, the word sounded more or less like “fuunto,” a word southerners use to refer to a spoiled egg. The men laughed at the utterance of the word Faqash and I laughed at them for engaging in khat-induced silly chatter.

When I returned to California, some of my friends from the north asked me about my brief trip to Djibouti. I told them that I had actually stayed in a hotel owned by a Qaldaan, (northerner) and had another Qaldaan, as a roommate. Then I cursorily added, “But they kept calling me “Faqash.” My friends burst out laughing and, since that day, they have called me “Hassan Faqash.” They did, however, tell me the origin of the word “Faqash.” During the civil war in the north, the soldiers of the Somali government were called “Faqash.” The word means “the noise boots/shoes make or the way they rattle.” The fleeing soldiers, who had committed a litany of horrible acts in the north, hence, were dubbed “Faqash.”

Then, as years passed, the word started to take on a life of its own.

Some people refer to anyone who worked for the Siad Barre regime or supported his government as Faqash. Oddly, the Isaaq government officials who remained in Barre’s regime until his fall fit into that category too.

Some people have started using it exclusively to refer to the Darod.

Then in 2011, I had an encounter with an Isaaq teen that was born and raised in California. This young man is Sacad Muuse, but his mother is Harti. For the first time in his life, he ventured out of the US and visited Hargeisa. He was excited to be among his kith and kin and began mastering Somali, of course with a distinct northern accent.

When he came back to the US, the first question he asked me was “Adeer, qolamaa tahay?” (Uncle, what is your clan?”)

I have known this young man since his infancy, and he has known me merely as a Somali man and a friend of his parents. However, this time, he wanted to get to know me even better and I felt honored.

Then, he dropped a bombshell.

“Uncle, I will never marry an Isaaq woman.”

“Why not?”

“My aunts in Hargeisa were always badmouthing my mother.”

“How?”

“Well, they would say, ‘Islaantaa Faqashta ah” (that Faqash woman).

I told the young man about my story in Djibouti and appealed to him not to reach foregone conclusions.

He was somewhat pleased to hear my explanation of the word ‘Faqash’ because the term was not yet pejorative.

After the young man left, I kept questioning whether my assessment was actually right.

My Isaaq friends call me Faqash from time to time, even though I am not Darod nor have I ever worked for the government of Siad Barre, yet I am never offended by it.

Do some people use the word to discriminate against others or deride an entire tribe?

There is a great deal of sensitivity among some people regarding the word. The fact that the word is loosely used against all kinds of people today does not in itself make it pejorative.

Perhaps, the word is in the midst of a natural evolution.

Yesterday, it was Siad Barre’s soldiers!

Today, it is refereed to all southerners and whoever is being teased.

Tomorrow, it might be used against someone else.

However, the fact is, it is not specific to one group.

An Ominous Return: Murder In Kaaraan

Asli Ali did not hear from her son, Ahmed, for several days.


Ahmed, after many years abroad, had returned to Mogadishu in March, 2012.

Asli became fidgety with each passing hour and concerned in her comfortable home in Toronto, Canada.

Something was amiss.

Ahmed would call her every day from Kaaraan district in Mogadishu, where the family’s sprawling villa was located. She knew how dangerous Mogadishu could be.

On June 17, 2012 the family finally received the call that turned their world upside-down.

Ahmed, 48, had been found dead in one of the bedrooms in the villa. His uncle, Axmadey Hassan Ali Jimaale, discovered the corpse.

Jimaale and his family had been living in the villa since 1991. Asli had asked him to protect the property until her family returned to Somalia. Jimaale worked for the Somali government in the field of intelligence.

What devastated Asli and her family even more was the manner in which her son had died.

Ahmed, who was found bound, gagged, and stabbed multiple times, was said to have had killed himself.

“Suicide?” screamed his mother.

She was incredulous at the notion that a man could tie himself up, and then stab himself so many times.

“There are other, and perhaps, easier ways one can end his life,” Asli muttered.

A female relative told Asli, over the phone, immediately after the body was found that Ahmed had actually been murdered.

The Kaaraan district police officers, who came to the house and investigated the scene, had difficulty believing it was a case of suicide. The story flew in the face of all the evidence. To the police, It was a staged crime scene. The uncle, it seemed to the authorities, knew more than he was letting on.

“How could you not have heard any noises last night? You were sleeping next room?” one police officer asked the uncle.

The police took Ahmed’s uncle and, later, his aunt into custody on suspicion of murder.

An autopsy by an independent medical examiner proved the police they were right when he ruled the case a homicide. Ahmed had been stabbed in his kidneys, liver, heart, back, under the shoulder-blades, and in his throat. The stab wound to the heart, according to the autopsy report, was the fatal blow. A knife left in his throat was determined to have been placed five hours after Ahmed’s death, in an effort to make the killing look self-inflicted.

Hussein Abdirahman, Ahmed’s younger brother, was appalled by the way his brother had met his demise.

“It is the savagery of the crime that is very disturbing,” he stated.

Hussein, a criminal justice major, had his own theory of who might have done it, but the evidence was merely circumstantial.

“Most likely, it is someone holding on to hatred, or grudge, or perhaps, has a financial stake in the commission of this heinous crime,” Hussein stated.

Ahmed Abdulkhadir Abdirahman was born in Mogadishu in 1964 to Somali-Arab parents. His nickname was “Ahmed Bare” because he had a red birthmark the size of an eraser on his forehead. His father, Abdulkhadir, was one of the first Somali school principals in the country. Ahmed’s father was a product of a Somali-Arab father and a mother who hailed from a dominant clan in Mogadishu. The father passed away in 2004.

“My late husband had held some important government posts,” noted Asli.

The family was doing well financially when the Somali Civil War broke out in 1991. They owned six commercial stores, all of which adjacent to their home.

Ahmed had nine siblings, and was the third oldest. He was also the father of two daughters, ages 14 and 11.

“My brother was pleasant, kind, gentle, gregarious and loving,” remembered Hussein. “He had an ebullient personality.”

Asli recalled how her son, as a student, had displayed high intellect and a seriousness of purpose.

“He was the first in his class,” she said with pride. “He decided to return to Mogadishu after he had studied civil engineering in Saudi Arabia, in order to help his people.”

Ahmed was one of thousands of Somalis who had returned to war-torn Mogadishu after two decades of absence due to the civil war. The city has been enjoying relative peace and stability, and business has started to boom. Many of the returnees naturally attempted to reclaim their properties, which they had abandoned in the early 1990s. Tensions arose between those who were reclaiming their properties and the others who had illegally occupied them. There have been instances when the returnees were asked to pay extortion money, or even ended up being killed for simply asking for what was rightfully theirs.

Ahmed’s family did not have to worry because their property was in good hands. The uncle moved into the villa to make sure it did not fall into the wrong hands. He never paid rent, nor did he share the revenues from the six stores with Ahmed’s family.

According to Asli, Ahmed’s return was his own choice, and, hence, never coordinated with the family. His arrival in Mogadishu, according to the family, was not an attempt to reclaim the family property. Ahmed was given a room in the family’s five-bedroom villa but was uncomfortable with the way his uncle treated him.

“My son was scared and even forewarned me about an imminent danger,” said Asli, choking on her tears.

Hussein also said that he had been getting daily text messages from his brother in the two weeks prior to his death.

“Ahmed would complain about his uncle and aunt, and say that the two had a secret agenda to take over the ownership of the villa,” Hussein added.

In one instance, according to the mother, while Ahmed was drinking tea in the house, his uncle grabbed the cup from him and said, “What are you doing here? Don’t you know that there are people out there who are coming to kill you?”

Ahmed, according to the family, calmly told his uncle that he would defend himself.

Asli said that Ahmed called her afterwards and was growing increasingly agitated and fearful for his life. That is when he decided to move out of the family house and rent a place in the Hamarweyne District.

One week later, he was dead.

Prior to Ahmed’s killing, a man had contacted Asli and told her he was serious about buying the villa. She called Ahmed and asked him to show the villa to the potential buyer. Ahmed told her that he did not want to get involved for fear of alienating his uncle. It was the uncle who had previously dissuaded the family from selling the property.

Ahmed’s uncle and aunt were eventually released on bail, but the investigation continued. The family is concerned that the two might be flight-risk.

A day after the incident, Hussein called one of his cousins only to find his call transferred to the jail where his aunt was being held.

“What did you do?” asked Hussein.

“Ahmed was my son. Why would I kill my own son,” responded the aunt.

According to the uncle, Ahmed had gone to bed at 11 on the night before, and said that he was afraid. The uncle told him to go to his room, and assured that no one would bother him. Ahmed did not appear for breakfast. It was 3 o’clock in the afternoon when the uncle became concerned and broke down Ahmed’s locked door.

Ahmed’s motionless body was found.

Hussein talked to his uncle afterwards and became suspicious. A statement made by the uncle caught him off-guard.

“They [perpetrators] had stabbed Ahmed viciously,” the uncle said.

The word “they,” was revealing, according to Hussein, and indicated the uncle knew that more than one person had been involved in the killing.

It was also odd that the uncle was implying that Ahmed, after all, did not kill himself.

The family is perplexed at the glacial pace of the investigation.

There is skepticism that the case will be solved soon. The prosecutors are backlogged with thousands of cases. Mogadishu’s 2 million residents have only nine full time prosecutors.

Moreover, the family’s minority status, according to Hussein, is hampering any progress in the case. The family is feeling injustice and the government’s lack of genuine interest in solving the murder.

It was only after members of the Somali-Arab community in Mogadishu got involved in the case was Ahmed’s autopsy administered.

Speaking in cautious but hopeful tones, Hussein said that the family is facing a daunting task, but that they would never give up until all of the perpetrators are put behind bars.

“It is the duty of the government,” he further emphasized, “to bring justice to the table, and treat all citizens equally before the law.”




Turmoil in Al-Islah, Somalia's Muslim Brotherhood

Four years ago, in an interview for Ikhwanweb, the official website of the international Muslim Brotherhood, Ali Bashe Omar, chairman of al-Islah, assured members of the Brotherhood across the globe that there were no problems bedeviling the Somali branch. “The movement is not suffering any internal problems,” Omar emphatically said. “In fact, it is in its strongest stages in terms of fairness, commitment, and sacrifice.”

For the last few days, however, al-Islah has been anything but a harmonious organization.

Sheikh Mohamed Ahmed Nur “Garyare,” a co-founding father of the group, announced that the movement had frozen the membership of three of its top leaders: Chairman Ali Bashe Omar, Dr. Ali Sheikh Ahmed (current president of Mogadishu University and former chair and co- founding member of al-Islah) and Mustafa Abdullah Ali, head of the southern division of the organization. The accusations leveled by Garyare and his supporters against the three leaders ranged from the mundane--poor leadership, sowing discord among members-- to the more serious charges of misappropriation of funds and treason. Dr. Ali Sheik was specifically accused of cavorting with unnamed foreign entity, in the name of fighting “terror.” In an interview with the BBC, Garyare made it clear that he was, for all practical purposes, the new leader of the Islamic movement. The cleric, who lives in Toronto, Canada, was dismissed by a recent declaration of the deposed leaders as an individual who speaks for none but himself. The current discord in al-Islah resembles the one that occurred in the Somali parliament several months ago when the speaker was deposed and a new leadership was installed, which led to the unending question of who is actually in charge of the Somali legislature. The drama continues.

For students of Somali politics, the question is: What led the turmoil in al-Islah to occur now? The international Muslim Brotherhood is having the best era in its 84 years of existence—thanks to the Arab Spring. The Muslim Brotherhood (MB) in Egypt won both the parliamentary and presidential elections, the Al-Nahda is currently in charge of Tunisia, and Syria’s Brothers are in the forefront in the existential fight against Bashar Assad. Morocco’s branch of the MB is also in control of the government. The only exception has been Libya where a pro-Western secular leader, Mahmoud Jibril, won the recent elections to lead that country. But then again, Libya was able to buck the trend, if one is to believe the Washington Post’s conservative columnist Charles Krauthammer, because it is “less a country than an oil well with a long beach and myriad tribes.”

Al-Islah, the internationally-recognized MB outfit, can best be described as a small organization with an elitist bent. Many of the rank- and- file members are educated and have no commonality with the average Guled or Maryam. Whereas the Egyptian MB shares the same elitist quality with its brethren in Somalia, it was nevertheless able to articulate its political and social agendas with the Egyptian masses. Al-Islah, on the other hand, has generally steered of being part of Somalia’s political process because it lacked vision, grass-roots support among the masses, and a willingness to cooperate with other--and in some cases bigger-- Islamic movements in the country. For the last two decades, al-Islah has distinguished itself by telling the international community that it is not Salafi, and hence militant. The leadership has failed to define its movement other than reciting that it is not Al-Ittihad al-Islami (AIAI) or al-Shabab. The movement’s former vice chair, and now presidential candidate, Abdurrahman M. Abdullahi “Baadiyow” had articulated, in his various writings that the state of militancy in Somalia is due to the presence of Salafis in the country. The Sufi orders and the Muslim Brotherhood, argued Baadiyow, are peaceful and tolerant, whereas the Salafis are “confrontational.” Therefore, “the root of the Islamic conflict lies with the ideology of Salafism as practiced in Somalia.” However, Baadiyow’s moderate beliefs have not endeared him to the very audience he has attempted to reassure in the West. According to several independent sources of al-Islah—one a top-ranking figure— who spoke to this writer, Baadiyow is not allowed to fly to the United States.  It is not clear why Washington did that as Baadiyow, in his writings, speeches, and interviews, has never advocated violence.

 There are two camps in al-Islah: One group emphasizes the development of Islamic identity for the individual and the society based on Islamic ideals, whereas the other camp has shown a Machiavellian approach to attaining political power. Sheikh Garyare and many members of the organization want the group to return to its roots and ideals, and not be corrupted by the pursuit of power. Dr. Ali and Baadiyow (who oddly escaped the wrath of Garyare) believe that the MB should have a political party in order to gain power, because political power brings about change faster, and is more effective (a lesson al-Islah learned from Tajamuc, better known as Ala Sheikh). Not long ago, a prominent member of the group had circulated a bizarre and unethical idea to buy votes from the council of traditional elders, $5,000 a piece, in order to win parliamentary seats. Baadiyow, in fairness, has publicly called for clean and fair elections, but demands that he disclose who is funding his candidacy have fallen into deaf ears.

The root cause of the discord among al-Islah was the proposal to form a political party. The proposal was, of course, led by Baadiyow and Dr. Ali, and was rejected by Garyare and his supporters, mainly because they felt disempowered by the ‘politico’ wing of the group, which by then had full control of all the finances, as well as the group’s jewel: Mogadishu University.

For the last several years, al-Islah suffered defections and dissent. A new group, naming itself the New Blood, has emerged and collaborated with two other major Islamic groups, the Tajamuc and al-Isctissam, a Salafi group whose members were once part of now defunct Al-Itihad. The Tajamuc is unique because it is a local homegrown Muslim Brotherhood outfit with no ties to Cairo, the headquarters of the international Muslim Brotherhood. The Tajamuc, unlike al-Islah, has established extensive working relationships with other moderate Islamic groups in the country.

The recent turmoil in al-Islah weakens the organization as the divergent leaders of the group are going through identity crises. The fact that the leaders have failed to iron out their differences internally, but have aired out their dirty laundry to the public, is an indication that there is an organizational break-down caused by a lack of necessary mechanisms to resolve conflict. The discord among the leaders might have an impact on the functioning of Mogadishu University, perhaps, the most successful project the group has ever undertaken in Somalia, the institution provides high-quality educations to thousands of Somali students. Some say that the organization is over-extending itself, especially in its pursuit of power, and, hence, does not know its own limitations.  Perhaps, it would be better off heeding to the popular Egyptian adage, “Calaa addil xaafaha, mid riglayk,” (based on the length of the mat, extend your legs).

Government Corruption in Somalia of Yesteryears

Peter Bridges served as the American ambassador to Somalia from 1984 to 1986. In his memoir, Safirka: An American Envoy (2000), Bridges chronicled his dealings with top Somali government officials.

Bridges was considered a straight shooter. Before his appointment, his knowledge of Somalia was scant, and his experience in Africa nil. His prior postings had been Panama City, Moscow, Prague, and Rome (twice). In all, he served under seven American presidents. Bridges became the first ambassador appointed by Ronald Reagan immediately after his reelection, and he was one of 280 former American diplomats who overwhelmingly endorsed Obama in 2008. In one of his articles in The Huffington Post, Bridges concluded his ringing endorsement with a familiar phrase: that American politicians use after airing their commercials, “…and I approved this message.” Bridges wrote, “Barak Obama did not approve this message. It’s all mine.”

Bridges’ observations of Somalia seem, at times, to have been comical and stereotypical. He issued constant complaints about Somali government buildings’ structural flaws, bats in the Somali National Theater, animals wandering in the streets, and the bumpy roads of Mogadishu; he also characterized Hotel Uruba, at the time the city’s best hotel, as a place  “that was said to feature a rat in every room.” Even the American ambassador’s residence received its share of criticism. The Somali Foreign Ministry, in particular, Bridges called it, “the shabbiest ministry building I had ever seen.”

One thing that Bridges emphasized about his years in Mogadishu was the level of corruption in the Somali government. Bridges was managing one of the largest American military and foreign aid projects in sub-Saharan Africa. He wrote that every Somali cabinet minister he had met would badger him about the need for more aid. Interestingly, Bridges knew that the requests were unnecessary and unjustified. In fact, Bridges included a zinger about Somali officials being persistent beggars. The British ambassador to Somalia at the time of Bridges’ tour of duty, William Fullerton, advised him to read Richard Burton’s classic book, The First Footsteps in East Africa (1856). Burton wrote that Arabs called Somalia “Bilad wa[x] issi,” (Land of Give Me Something). “The longer you are there,” Fullerton warned Bridges, “the more you will think that name is apt.” Bridges grudgingly acknowledged that both Burton and Fullerton were right. Even so, on rare occasions, a government official would come up with a creative approach to foreign assistance. For example, Vice President Hussein Kulmiye Afrah told Bridges in 1985 that Somalia needed to exploit wind and solar energies instead of relying on oil handouts from the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. 

Italian aid to Somalia in the 1980s amounted to a quarter billion US dollars. The money was spent on such projects as a road in northern Somalia, the renovation of a pharmaceutical plant, and the construction of a fertilizer plant that never produced a sack of fertilizers. According to an article in the Washington Post, “ The Italian Connection: How Rome Helped Ruin Somalia,” (01/24/1993), a former Somali minister testified in Italy that at least 10 percent of the Italian aid to Somalia was pocketed by members of Siad Barre’s family and their cronies. Many of the Somali state-owned companies made “no economic sense,” argued Bridges, but “did make business sense—family business sense.”

Bridges also mentioned how the Somali government inflated the number of refugees in the country in order to secure more foreign aid. For example, Abdi Mohamed Tarrah, Commissioner of the Somali National Refugee Commission, had the tendency to play with refugee numbers. “If there were no refugees,” Bridges stated,  “there would be no commission—and no Commissioner.”

One issue that angered Bridges was how Siad Barre courted Libya during a period of high tensions between Washington and Tripoli. Reagan had bombed Libya and Qaddafi’s compound in Tripoli, and the Libyans, were, of course, itching to retaliate against the Americans by any means necessary. Siad Barre, meanwhile, started courting Libya in part to dissuade Qaddafi from aiding Somali rebels based in Ethiopia. Bridges warned Barre about re-establishing diplomatic ties with Libya. However, Barre, the wily politician, saw an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone: court Libya’s financial assistance and undermine his rivals. One day, Bridges read a news item from the Somali News Agency about Somalia and Libya resuming diplomatic relations “in consideration of the emphatic necessity to prepare for and face the problems posed by imperialism and its likes.” Bridges was livid! He asked to see Abdirahman Jama Barre, the foreign minister, who reassured him that the statement referred to the Ethiopian imperialism. However, when Bridges met Siad Barre, the Somali president said the word “imperialism” was in reference to the Soviet Union. One thing became clear to Bridges: Qaddafi had bribed Somali officials to resume diplomatic relations. Bridges said that he had heard credible reports that Jama Barre pocketed $1 million from the Libyans.  

In November 1985, the World Bank organized a conference in Paris to provide urgent aid to Somalia which was experiencing a budget gap of $100 million.  Many countries pledged to help except Saudi Arabia and Kuwait. Bridges could not understand why fellow Muslim and Arab countries would not lend assistance to Somalia. He was later told by an Arab ambassador that Siad Barre had diverted $20 million to “private pockets,” that was intended for Somalia to purchase oil. In one instance, oil from Saudi tanker was even sold to the Apartheid regime of South Africa, a country under economic boycott, rather than delivered to Somalia.

Finally, there was the matter of Somali Ambassador to Washington, Abdullahi Ahmed Adow, who had purchased a house on Foxhall Road; the property was reported to be “the second-largest residential real estate sale in the District of Columbia that year.” Bridges did not accuse Ambassador Adow of any wrongdoing, but he sardonically noted that Adow “had done well for a nomad’s son on a Somali official salary.” However, Adow’s attractive wife, Asha, was another story. She asked Ambassador Bridges whether the Americans were interested in renting one of several villas she owned in Mogadishu for, oddly, six thousand US dollars cash; no Somali  shillings, please. Bridges was taken aback by the request and politely declined. What happened next was beyond comprehension. Bridges claimed that Asha Adow threatened to rent the villa instead to the Libyan Embassy. In essence, Bridges felt he was being blackmailed. If the Libyans had rented the said villa, they would have had access to the American military compound that operated a stone’s throw from the villa.  Bridges was upset and had to tell Somali officials that Somalia would regret renting the villa to the Libyan Embassy. An international incident was, hence, averted.

Despite Bridges’ allegations, there are those who say that Siad Barre was only interested in political power, and that he never gained any financial benefits from ruling Somalia for more than 21 years. If this assumption is correct, then he at least condoned the practice of corruption because he was perfectly aware that members of his government and family were guilty of embezzling from the country’s coffers. For Barre, allowing some of his ardent supporters to get rich was a reward for their loyalty. For the small number of his family that benefited from his long reign, it was simply an entitlement, and Barre had no problem with that.

The Anti-Al Shabab Campaigner in Mogadishu

Nine months ago, Omar Abdirahman Mohamed-- commonly known as Omar-Dahir—Chairman of Midnimo Political Party and the director of the Center for Moderation and Dialogue in Mogadishu received a most unsettling phone call from an anonymous caller.


“The [Somali] people and the [Islamic] religion will be protected from people like you,” the caller said.

Omar-Dahir instantly knew that the caller was a member of the radical group and Al-Qaeda affiliate, Al Shabab. The group is known for making such ominous and mysterious calls. He was being threatened, and he got the message immediately. Life has not been the same since. Omar-Dahir, like any Somali politician closely allied with the government, is today actively being pursued by the Al Shabab. He is on constant guard, and rarely goes to his home for fear the Al Shabab assassins might flay him alive.

“When you regularly take a public swipe at the Al Shabab in Mogadishu,” explains Omar-Dahir. “Two things are certain to happen-- threats and murder, and not necessarily in that order.”

The Somali government and the African Union forces are currently fighting the militant Al Shabab militia in the old fashion way-- bullet by bullet. But Omar-Dahir has also been in war of words with the group. It is not clear where his campaign against the Al Shabab begins and where his political ambitions and agenda end.

Omar-Dahir is a no ordinary rival of the Al Shabab; he is a graduate of the Islamic University in Medina, Saudi Arabia, and personally knows the top leaders of Al Shabab. They were once active members of the Islamic Courts Union which briefly ruled Mogadishu in 2006.

“Once upon a time, they were my friends,” Omar-Dahir laments.

The word “they” here is not a generic term, instead, the pronoun specifically stands for Ahmed Godane, the co- founder and current commander of the Al Shabab, and his top lieutenant, Ibrahim Afghani. These two are individuals, who originally hailed from Somaliland, and Washington has recently placed a bounty of $7 million and $5 million, respectively, on their heads.

Omar-Dahir has a grudging respect for his old friend, Godane, and now his new nemesis. Nevertheless, he still wants to bring the fugitive to justice.

“He is much smarter than most people give him credit for,” says Omar-Dahir about the Al Shabab leader. “Come on, the guy has done some graduate work in Pakistan, and speaks Somali, Arabic, and English fluently.” But behind this veneer of education, according to Omar-Dahir, lies a dangerous, criminally-sophisticated, and disturbed man, with a long list of woes, issues, and diabolical goals.

“I can tell you that both Godane and Ibrahim Afghani do not want peace or reconciliation,” attests Omar-Dahir. “All they want is the establishment of an Islamic state as they narrowly define it.”

Omar-Dahir remembers Godane and his cohorts during the Islamic Courts Union’s rule when they were actively and secretly arming and organizing themselves. When the Courts were wiped out by the Ethiopian forces, Godane’s Al Shabab militants got their opportunity and declared themselves to be Jihadists a la Al- Qaeda fashion

Omar-Dahir is a medium-height, soft-spoken man in his early fifties. He speaks as though he is weighing every word that he utters. “I sat in front of Godane and Ibrahim Afghani as I am sitting in front of you,” he said as he slumped back into his chair. “They see the Transitional Federal Government (TFG) and anybody who does not agree with them as ‘Kuffar’ (infidels).” Infidels, according to the two, deserve to be killed.
Calls for political reconciliation with Al Shabab irk Omar-Dahir. He does not understand why some Somali politicians and pundits circulate such an “asinine” idea. “These radicals want the elimination of the government. Period,” he asserts. They do not want peace. “How can you negotiate with a group of killers who want to get rid of you in the first place?”

Omar-Dahir sees no moderates in the ranks of Al Shabab. However, radicals such as Hassan Dahir Aweys and Mukhtar Robow are not as powerful as people think, believes Omar-Dahir. Not mincing words, he explains: “In fact, both Aweys and Robow are afraid of Godane so much that they cannot do anything without his approval.” Moreover, Aweys and Robow share the same ideology, are not much different than Godane and Afghani, and view any negotiations with the government with sheer contempt. In addition, the two leaders are afraid of the “Amniyaat”, a secretive intelligence and assassination unit of the Al Shabab that is under the control of Godane.

Several months ago, Sheikh Aweys publicly stated that waging Jihad was not the monopoly of one group, (i.e. Al Shabab) and that anyone could undertake it. Aweys’ speech earned a verbal lashing from Godane and other Al Shabab officers. Aweys’ fatwa was neither accepted by the radical group nor even debated. It was just summarily rejected out of hand.

Omar-Dahir and four volunteers run the Center for Moderation and Dialogue which is now engaged in a propaganda war with the Al Shabab. They are all volunteers, Dahir says, and hence receive no salaries and funding from any source.

“No help from the Somali government, or the Saudis, or the Americans?”

“Not really,” Omar-Dahir replied.

Omar-Dahir claims that he is committed to exposing what he calls “the carefully-constructed charade” of the Al Shabab. He goes to the radio stations, and talks to whoever will listen to him about the clear and present danger the Al Shabab group poses for Somali youth and children. Volunteers at the Center give interviews to local media, lecture at mosques, and public gatherings. The Center also publishes booklets, leaflets, and pamphlets. Omar-Dahir also trains Somali imams and journalists about the language Al Shabab leaders use, and how to decipher their doubletalk. “Some of the imams do not know such concepts as “at-Tasamux” (tolerance) “al-Ghuluwi” (extremism), so I teach them in order to refute the Al Shabab, “says Omar-Dahir.

Omar-Dahir acknowledges that reporters for the government-run Radio Mogadishu are the most courageous in the fight against the Al Shabab. “Some of these brave reporters, males and females, haven’t even left the station since 2009 because they are wanted by the Al Shabab,” says Omar-Dahir. “They sleep at the station and still carry on their coverage of the Al Shabab.” Omar-Dahir has found great solace and support in these journalists who, like him, are not afraid to call a spade a spade.

Radio Mogadishu does have its limitations; however. It is a FM station that does not reach beyond Mogadishu. The Al Shabab group is strong in areas outside Mogadishu, according to Omar-Dahir, where Radio Mogadishu cannot reach any audiences, and where no middle class, intellectuals, learned people, and strong institutions exist, and the level of Islamic awareness is weak. Most of Al Shabab recruits come from small villages and rural areas where the radical group controls the terrain and thinking. “Mogadishu has not been kind to the Al Shabab, when it comes to recruiting,” boasts Omar-Dahir. “What is badly needed is a shortwave radio with a long reach,” says Omar-Dahir.

The Al Shabab offer a four-month intensive religious training to their clerics, Omar-Dahir adds. He warns too that the group has been effective in brainwashing young recruits, and then controlling every aspect of their lives. Recruits, adds Omar-Dahir, are also offered incentives such as marriage. Parents, in areas under the control of the group, are pressured to give away their daughters to “Al Shabab mujahidin fighting for the cause of Islam.”

Omar-Dahir is still optimistic that the propaganda war against the Al Shabab will be won eventually. It is a war of attrition, Omar-Dahir says, that will last until Somalia gets stronger institutions, better radio stations and TV, and lasting peace and stability. “It is challenging to fight a radical group that regularly uses Facebook and Twitter,” explains Omar-Dahir with a calm brave earnestness. “The militant group also controls radio stations, such as HornAfrik, Somaliweyn, Furqan, and Andalusia.”

“We are still far behind in fully utilizing the mass media and social networking,” Omar-Dahir admits. “But we will win the war because the Al Shabab group is living on borrowed time.”

Omar-Dahir’s optimism is tempered by the bleak reality that the Al Shabab, though battered now, is still alive, and does control a large swath of land in Southern Somalia.