A Tribute to Said Samatar

The passing of Professor Said Samatar, 71, was sad and sudden.

I never met the good professor in person, but we had exchanged several emails.  I was very familiar with his research and books. In fact, his book, Oral Poetry and Somali Nationalism: The Case of Sayid Mahammad Abdille Hassan (Cambridge, 1982), is perhaps one of the best books ever written on the role of poetry as a tool to gain and maintain political power in the Somali society. 

 

Samatar’s writing, sometimes hilarious, mostly insightful, made the reader ponder and laugh heartily. He also had a whiff of disdain in his interviews and writings for past and present Somali governments.

Two years ago, I wrote an article about a conflict between former President Siad Barre and Samatar in the 1980s. I wanted to get Samatar’s take on the story so I sent him a draft of my piece. To my amazement, the professor had another idea. As an editor of the journal Horn of Africa, he asked me if I could perhaps publish the article there. I was stunned. I’d written the article for a general audience and wanted it that way. It was flattering, however, that the good professor liked the article to the extent he wanted to publish it academically.

 

Aside from the political spat between the president and Samatar, my article touched on something of a taboo: the professor’s past conversion to Christianity. I was concerned that Samatar would not discuss the matter, and on this I was actually right. He saw his change of religion at an early age as a personal matter or, as he said in one of his articles a year ago, pure pragmatism. It was, after all, the missionaries who had helped him get an education, employment, and an opportunity to come to the U.S. Most of all, he had also met his wife, Lydia, through her missionary work in Somalia. In 2005, however, Samatar made it clear in an interview that he was back to his religious heritage. He stated he had gone “from one kitab (book) to another. And now I am returning to the original kitab.”

 

Professor Samatar was one of a kind. A year ago, he wrote that he wanted to change his clan affiliation from Lelkase to Geri. (Incidentally, did Faisal Roble, a close friend of the professor, have anything to do with this?).  Samatar had a knack for courting controversy, however, his supposed clan change yielded blinks, squints and blank stares. He was so impressed with the Geri that he wanted to be adopted by them. In essence, though, he didn’t make a big splash when he switched from one Darod sub-clan to another.  Once, I thought Samatar almost came close to switching to the Dir clan in the way he extolled the virtues of a Biyamaal intellectual who had eloquently spoken about the plight of his people in Lower Juba. I thought that would have been big news: a Darod scholar switches to Dir. But Samatar saw something in the Geri—and only in the Geri—that appealed to him. 

 

One thing we all know is that every one of us is born into his clan and, hence, we have little choice. Once upon a time, Saddam Hussein was asked about his equally bloodthirsty gangster son, Uday. In response, the dictator rolled his eyes and said in a melancholy voice, “What can I do about it? I can’t choose my relatives.” Being born to a Somali clan is either a blessing or a curse, depending on whom you ask. However, Samatar succeeded in sparking a healthy debate among Somali intellectuals: Can anyone forsake his clan in favor of another?

 

I will certainly miss Samatar’s writings, his courageous radio interviews, and his sharp insights into the everyday absurdities, quirks, nomadic tendencies, and feisty spirit of the Somali people.  

 

Going Somewhere: Joe Biden and Somali Cab Drivers

The Somalis are in the news this week in the U.S.

No, it is not about piracy or Al-Shabaab bombing in Africa. It is actually about something that is work-related. In a White House conference addressing the issue of stopping extremist violence (Oops, there we go again), Vice President Joe Biden expressed his positive attitude toward Somalis.  He said he knows them and has in fact some Somali friends. Anyone who went with him to the train station, he told the press, will see his connection with the Somalis.  “I have great relationships with them because there is an awful lot driving cabs and [they] are friends of mine.”  As if to punctuate the message, Biden added: “I am not being solicitous. I am being serious.”

After Biden’s statement, it was a shock-and-awe moment. All of sudden, he has been accused of stereotyping Somalis. How dare Biden say that about Somalis, many questioned. Doesn’t he have any modicum of sensitivity? Critics said that there is more to Somalis than cab driving.

First, I did not know that the American VP is still taking the train to his hometown in Wilmington, Delaware. Second, Biden is a veteran politician, but he is unique in a way because he operates without a filter. In other words, he has been one to speak his mind. After he speaks up and there is uproar, Biden has a tendency to apologize to calm the storm. “My statement was taken out of context,” he would say. That is when he resorts to being a typical politician.

However, Biden is right this time about Somalis and cab driving. He has nothing to apologize for. Many Somalis in urban areas are cab drivers. That is a fact. Of course, not all Somalis are cabbies. Biden only spoke about the ones he has known, the cabbies at the Amtrak Station. Somalis were not always associated with taxi driving in America. This is a new phenomenon.

In the 1980s, I moved from Ohio to California. Then, there were many Ethiopians who worked as taxi drivers or parking lot attendants. In essence, the Ethiopians dominated these two lines of work. In the early 1990s, Somalis started arriving in California. After a while, the Ethiopians moved on to other careers; a few stayed in the taxi business but as owners rather than drivers. Many years later, Somalis entered the field and cab driving became the favorite job among many because of two reasons: It did not require fluency in English and it gave these taxi drivers a chance to get together with fellow countrymen and talk about politics. There is another sinister motive for some because the taxi work, which is mostly cash-based, can be underreported to both the welfare agency and to their wives. 

I have always wondered why so many educated Somalis drive a taxi. I can understand the ones with limited skills being cabbies and the ones who are doing it for a short period, but why do the rest make it a career?  I have seen former government officials in Barre’s regime driving taxis. Some were ministers and others directors of government agencies.

The saddest case was a Somali professional in California who drove a taxi in the weekends. When his son graduated from high school, the young man became a cabbie. I talked to his parents about the matter but the father gave me an interesting response: “My son has to drive a cab because I have relatives back home to support.” I asked the father if he had thought of his son going to college, getting an education and then being in a better position to support his family. The father kept quiet.

I have two anecdotes about Somalis and cab driving.

Many years ago in a California court, a judge asked me if there were any Somali-speaking therapists or psychologists in the city so he could refer a Somali defendant to them. I answered no.

“Are you kidding?” the judge exclaimed.

“None,” I reiterated.

The judge fidgeted and kept starring at the defendant’s case file. He was probably asking himself why a 10,000-strong Somali community in a major California city has not yet produced a specialist after being in the state over 20 years.

“No medical doctor either?” he asked curiously.

“Your Honor, not yet,” I said, “But fortunately we have a lot of cab drivers.”

The judge looked at me in disbelief and exploded: “But I am not going anywhere!”

The other story is about my university studies many years ago. I was accepted by the University of Chicago to do an advanced degree. I became ambivalent as to whether to leave California, where I had a good graduate fellowship, or go to the University of Chicago, a private institution, which offered me only a tuition waiver. At the time, I had a family with two young children. I asked a veteran professor at that university how the graduate students in Chicago survived in that very expensive city. “Well, there are fifth-year doctoral students who drive cabs,” he answered, sympathetically. Frankly, I was stupefied but at the same time I thought these students at least saw taxi driving as a temporary means to survive to obtain their degrees.

I have a friend in Mogadishu who is a successful businessman. He did not leave the country when many fled in 1991. He called me one day. “Hassan, what is wrong with you diaspora people?” he inquired. I asked him what the problem was. “Well, there are many cab drivers from North America everywhere in Mogadishu who all want to be either cabinet ministers or parliamentarians and nothing else.” His anger was understandable because he was wondering, in his mind, if the Somalis abroad have produced any other careers. That was a typical Joe Biden moment!

Some solace comes to my friend, the businessman. There have been some high-ranking Somali officials or celebrities who were once cabbies but they had moved on. They include two presidents of Puntland, one Puntland VP, a federal Attorney General, cabinet ministers, and a famous female singer, to mention a few.

I would like Somalis in the diaspora to approach cab driving as a transitory job, not a career. There is so much our community can do because opportunities abound in North America. It starts with ambition, then discipline and hard work. It will only be then that other nationalities will recognize our brains, skills, and contribution.

Meet Mr. Cantarbaqash

He is the first man I have met so far who has told me about his intention to run for the Somali presidency in 2016. Because he has not yet made a formal announcement, I will call him “Cantarbaqash,” (Baloney).

Cantarbaqash is in his fifties, short and round. He has a well-trimmed beard and wears suits that are oversized but help him conceal his protruding belly. He once was a cabbie, a career that spanned 23 years. He has never attended school but speaks two African languages with ease. His English is self-taught and limited; his Arabic is at best pedestrian. His line of work is the nonprofit sector. Throughout the years, he has raised several million dollars for the agency he heads to feed the poor and indigent in the Horn of Africa. The organization’s website is littered with pictures of internally displaced people receiving food, cooking oil, and blankets. The name of the charity is widely displayed in the background for emphasis. Other images are of goats being donated to people or on their way to the slaughterhouse for meat donation.  It is not clear if these images of goats are recycled from various projects across the country. Cantarbaqash shows pictures of starving people to Somalis in the diaspora so that they donate to his agency.

He has fared well and leads a comfortable life. He travels constantly. All the monies collected as donations—which are all in cash—are supposedly used for staff traveling, offices, restaurant food, and hotel accommodations. Only a small fraction of the funds goes to the needy, according to Cantarbaqash himself. “We have high overhead costs, like some of the big Western NGOs,” he says, putting his foundation in the same realm as Save the Children and the International Rescue Committee. After many years in the field of charity, his foundation has yet to build a school, a clinic, or a warehouse for food distribution. Once or twice a year, Cantarbaqash calls local media in Mogadishu and bribes a few journalists to cover his distribution of aid to a select one or two hundred poor people. Then Cantarbaqash flies back to his splendid house in North America.

One day, Cantarbaqash had a new revelation: He wants to be elected president of Somalia in 2016. Since then, he has fixated on 2016. He has told his family and friends that he is serious about pursuing his dream of becoming president. Cantarbaqash has visited Somalia—from Hargeisa to Kismayo—in his capacity as a charity manager. He is absolutely certain that—don’t laugh—people in Somaliland and Puntland will support him. They should, he says with smugness because their leaders have welcomed him before. In reality, Cantarbaqash is in it for personal gain. He is as greedy as a chipmunk and as unscrupulous as a hyena.

Where does Cantarbaqash stand on the issues?

Q: What is your political plan for the country?

A: Um, I want to serve my country. I love Somalia.

Q: What is your economic plan?

A: I believe in entrepreneurship.

Q: What do you think of the provisional constitution?

A: Somalis are not happy with this document. It must go.

Q: What is the problem with the constitution?

A: The people that I talk to are opposed to this document.

Q: What are your thoughts on peace and reconciliation?

A: We are one nation and we need to build our future.

Q: What role do you see for Somali women in rebuilding the country?

A: [Laughter] You know me, I love women. [More laughter]

Obviously, Cantarbaqash has not yet formulated his “plans” but he might still surprise many by having his political “agenda” in glossy pamphlets, just like the glitzy, eye-catching literature about his foundation. He asserts that he is no different than some of the recent presidents who, in his words, “came from nowhere to be the leaders of Somalia.”

There is nothing to be expected from Cantarbaqash, a man of obvious limitations. The only thing outstanding about him is his mediocrity. Unfortunately, given the state of Somalia over the last three decades, Cantarbaqash’s mediocrity may not seem strange after all. Ladies and gentlemen, Cantarbaqash’s presidential candidacy is coming to a coffeehouse near you. Until then, sit tight and enjoy the “fadhi-du-Dirir” (political chatter). Cantarbaqash is oblivious to one thing: Political chatter among Somalis has become an art form and is much more popular than even the office of the presidency.

 

Mired in Major Losses: Al-Shabaab in 2014

It was a bad year for Al-Shabaab. In fact, it was the worst year for the jihadi group since its formation a decade ago.  The group lost key leaders, a large swath of territory and substantial revenues.

Al-Shabaab also lost many of its territories. Last year, the Somali government forces and those of the African Mission in Somalia (AMISOM) named more than a dozen villages and small towns which were conveniently—and for public relations consumption—dubbed as “strategic towns” liberated from the militant group. In reality, what hurt Al-Shabaab the most was the loss of the strategic coastal city of Baraawe, Bulo Burte, and the entire region of Bakool. Baraawe was the headquarters of the group, its main training base, a main source of revenue, and very close to the capital, Mogadishu (180 km). 

If 2013 was a bloody year for Al-Shabaab because some of the group’s top leaders were either killed or banished by then-emir Ahmed Abdi Godane, 2014 can be simply categorized as the year of living dangerously. Key Al-Shabaab leaders were killed by an American air strike, some were captured, some defected, and some were added to American and UN sanctions list for wanted terrorists—or, oddly, removed from that infamous list.  A former Al-Shabaab leader from Puntland, Said Atom, was removed from the UN sanctions list because he had repudiated his violent past. However, the United States Government put a $3M bounty on Abdikadir Mohamed Abdikadir “Ikramah” (the man who coordinated the attack on the Westgate Mall), Yasin Kilwe (the group’s emir in Puntland) and Jaafar (Kilwe’s deputy).

Two key Al-Shabaab leaders were killed by the American drones: Ahmed Abdulkadir Camo “Iskudhuuq,” a commander, and Abdishakur Mohamed Ahmed aka “Tahlil” or “Shakir,” chief of intelligence. Surprisingly, Zakariya Ismail Ahmed Hirsi, a former head of intelligence of the group and a man on whom the U.S. put a $3M bounty in 2012, defected to the Somali government. Zakariya, however, deserted the group 19 months ago in disagreement with Godane. Zakariye will provide a trove of intelligence about the group to the Somali, Kenyan, Ethiopian, and American governments.

The major blow for Al-Shabaab undoubtedly was the killing of Godane himself in an American air strike. The emir was unique. He was a good organizer: secretive, mysterious, articulate, an excellent motivator, and an amateur poet. He ruled the radical group with an iron fist and succeeded in June 2013 to consolidate his power. His loss was perhaps one that the group is unlikely to recover from in the foreseeable future. 

The man who replaced Godane, Ahmed Diriye “Abu Ubaidah” has yet to address his fighters and the Somali public. His unusual silence has led to speculation as to whether he is even in charge. There are some accounts that say that Mahad Karate, the deputy emir, is the one who is calling the shots. What we know so far is that Diriye, immediately after his selection, has shown some interest in reaching out to the renegade Al-Shabaab fighters who have been in hiding for fear of Godane. 

The most prominent of these disgruntled jihadists is Mukhtar Robow Ali (“Abu Mansur”) who was one of the co-founders of Al-Shabaab, once a former deputy emir and spokesman. Robow became estranged from Godane and fled to the Bay and Bakool region. The new emir attempted to open a dialogue with Robow, but it did not go well. Robow demanded drastic changes in the way Al-Shabaab is managed and also asked for a full account of the killings of prominent Al-Shabaab leaders in 2013 by Godane such as Ibrahim Mee’aad “Ibrahim al-Afghani” Abdulhamid Olhaye “Moalim Burhan,” and Omar Hammami, the American jihadist. Moreover, Robow asked that a new leadership be formed that is broad-based, inclusive, and legitimate. He also said he had no problem even if the current emir was selected again. It was apparent that the leadership was not willing to open the files of past violations, killings, and harassment of foreign and local jihadists who had crossed Godane. Furthermore, some of the Al-Shabaab leaders simply saw Robow as a renegade who wanted to wrest power from the new and inexperienced emir. The current leadership rejected Robow’s demands, and the talks between the parties have since stalled.

The leadership also reneged on a promise to release some Al-Shabaab fighters who have been detained in secret locations during Godane’s reign. Some of the parents of these fighters were told to come to Barawe during the last Eid festival to be reunited with their children.

Al-Shabaab succeeded in attacking Villa Somalia, the presidential palace, three times last year—a proof that the Somali government even considering the weakened state of the radical group—has serious security breaches and flaws. The group was responsible for assassinating lawmakers such as Jama Mohamud Xayd and Sado Ali Warsame.

The year 2015 will be worse for Al-Shabaab because the group has become an easy target for American drones. It is astounding that key leaders of the group were successfully pinpointed for target killing. This indicates, among other factors, that the group’s leadership has been penetrated by foreign intelligence services—or, that some of the Al-Shabaab leaders are deeply involved in purging their rivals and therefore are discreetly leaking information about their whereabouts. The territories the group controls is shrinking, which means jihadists will further regroup in rural areas and increase bombing attacks on Mogadishu. If Al-Shabaab disintegrates in 2015—a distant possibility—it will remerge in a different outfit. The seeds of jihadism are still present in Somalia. Not long ago, the leaders of Al-Shabaab were once active members of now defunct Islamic organization called Al-Ittihad Al-Islami.

Mixed Somalis Are No Strangers to Awkward Questions

When Zulaikha, a light-skinned red head, was in kindergarten, she had an epiphany. She found out that her Somali mother was unique. At the time, Zulaikha was a student in a predominantly white school. When the young children saw a black woman picking her up after classes and sometimes volunteering at their school, they were perplexed.

“Zulaikha, are you adopted?” the children would ask. And when Zulaikha told them no, they would ask, “Then how come your mother is black?”

Zulaikha and her siblings, Amina Caddey, 25, and Yusuf Mohammad, 26, are the offspring of a white father and a Somali mother. They are also active members in the Facebook group, “Are You Half-Somali?”—a private group that is strict about who joins.

The objective of the group is clear. “It is for mixed Somalis to exchange their views, thoughts, experiences, and, most of all, positively the blessing of belonging to more than one culture.” Even though the group is private, “Non-half Somalis are welcome, but haters are not.”

The group occasionally receives nasty messages, ostensibly from some Somalis who question its intention and its very existence. These naysayers are mostly individuals who believe there is no such thing as a half-Somali. “Anyone whose father is not Somali is not Somali, these critics believe,” explains Yusuf Mohammad.

Interestingly, the majority of the half-Somali group members have Somali mothers, says Yusuf. He is also one of the administrators of the group, which includes half-Somalis of German, Native American, French, Japanese, Chinese, Arab, Finnish, and Indian ancestries. Indeed, the group is a mini-United Nations group that has one common denominator— a Somali half.

Amina Caddey likes associating with members of this diverse group. “I like to network with people who have a similar background and share with them our uniqueness,” she explains.

One day, Amina went to a student conference with her cousin, a full-blooded Somali. The cousin introduced her to another young Somali woman who was immediately shocked by Amina’s light skin. After a minute of staring at Amina closely, the young lady finally issued a verdict:  “I can see the traces of Somaliness in you,” she told Amina. “But you are so white.” 

Amina laughed and told her that she hears that from other Somalis all the time. Once, an elderly Somali woman asked Amina’s cousins why they were hanging out with two white kids. When the elderly woman was told that Amina and her sister Zulaikha, in fact, related to the children, the Somali woman was astounded. Then, suddenly, the woman started inquiring about the clan of their white father.

“It was a bizarre encounter,” Amina said, smiling. “Many people simply want to put me in a box.”

Yusuf recalled attending a weekend Islamic school. The first day, the Egyptian teacher asked students who spoke Arabic to raise their hands. Several students did. Then the teacher turned to Yusuf and admonished him for not raising his hand. “I do not speak Arabic,” explains Yusuf. Baffled, the teacher became speechless. “I guess, she automatically assumed I was an Arab,” he says.

The half-Somali group was founded in 2008; however, it experienced an unprecedented peak in 2011 when many “halfies”—as they call themselves—joined.

The half-Somali group has interesting tales to tell—some extremely rare, others simply outrageous.

There is one rare case of a young lady who is half-Somali and half-Japanese. The Japanese, coming from a nation that is homogenous like Somalia, rarely marry outside their group. However, love, as it is popularly said, is blind. A Japanese journalist covering a story in Kenya met a Somali woman, and the two fell in love. Today, the couple’s daughter, who grew up in Japan, is also part of the half-Somali group.

Then there is the weird case of a person who tried to join the group because she was half-Somali and half-Somalilander. “It was a ludicrous attempt,” Amina Caddey notes, “to instill politics in an otherwise cultural and multi-ethnic group.” Incidentally, the residents of Somalia and Somaliland—a self-declared independent entity—are both ethnic Somalis.

A half-Somali group might appear strange to many Somalis, but its members bring a greater richness of culture and a whole new perspective to the Somali community at large. The cultural horizons have indeed expanded worldwide. It was, after all, a child with a strange name, a Kenyan father and a white mother from Kansas who became the forty-fourth president of the United States of America.   

(Reprinted with permission from Sahan Journal, December 23, 2014). 

Puntland President's Travels: An Itinerary for Change or a Waste of Time?

Almost a year has passed since the election of Abdiweli Mohamed Ali “Gaas” as President of Puntland. Many people, including this writer, welcomed his election and saw it as an opportunity to develop Puntland and make it a beacon for the rest of Somalia. Puntland, after all, has never attempted to secede from the rest of Somalia. Given his unique background as a former economics professor and prime minister, Gaas was expected to bring something new to Puntland.

In his first year, the president succeeded in initiating a five-year development plan, taxation reform, a biometric fishery database (a program that registered fishermen to distinguish them from pirates), and stronger relations with the European Union. He also clamped down on an Al-Shabaab stronghold in the Galgala Mountains, started an infrastructure projects such as improving Bossasso Port and is now in the throes of building an international airport there, established city councils in many towns, and finalized the Garowe Bilateral Accord with the Federal Government.  While one year is not sufficient time to render a verdict on Gaas, I am very concerned about one aspect of his rule: His frivolous travels and penchant for staying away from Garowe, the capital of Puntland. Gaas is constantly traveling, mostly in the region. Many times, his travels suggest he cannot wait to get out of Garowe for a change. Garowe is growing fast and booming, but it is still a provincial city.

I doubt whether Gaas has spent an entire month in Garowe since assuming office in January 2014. For a regional state president, he has embarked on several international travels. While some of these foreign travels were necessary, such as attending the Global African Investment gathering in London in October, other trips were unnecessary, and Gaas could have let other Puntland officials represent the region.

Why is President Gaas always traveling?

The official version of the Puntland Government is understandably simple: It is his job to travel. However, two Puntland intellectuals who are Gaas supporters gave me two other reasons. One told me that when Gaas is in Garowe, he is inundated with people who want to see him. “This man [Gaas] actually works better when he is away from Garowe,” the first intellectual said. The other intellectual gave a cynical answer and suggested that Garowe is, after all, the stronghold of former President Abdirahman Farole—the man Gaas defeated in the last elections—and his Ciise Maxamuud clan. “I guess, there is no love lost between Gaas and the residents of Garowe,” the man lamented.

Perhaps, a satellite presidential office in Bossasso, the largest city in Puntland, would be necessary in the future, without diluting the power of Garowe.

One major deficiency of Somali leaders is their tendency not to delegate. Unfortunately, federal and regional presidents—since Siad Barre—have become used to getting involved in trivial matters that detract from affairs of state. Tribal Elders, politicians, job seekers, and others are always trying to see the president for a favor. This system of patronage undermines the government and robs the president of valuable time doing other important things. In the case of Puntland, I can understand why Gaas is overwhelmed by people asking for favors. This is a practice Gaas has to curtail. While the president is flattered by those who seek his attention, time spent attending to these matters is time that could be devoted to many important issues such governing. Perhaps, the president could delegate this matter to his vice president, who has plenty of time at his disposal. Setting up a day of the week specifically to see foreign dignitaries, government officials, and tribal chieftains would ease the demand imposed on Gaas’ busy schedule and enable him to prioritize his tasks.

Gaas has appointed a cadre of ministers, some of whom I believe are capable of doing excellent jobs. Unfortunately, they appear to have been marginalized by the president’s imposing and looming presence. Many of the projects Gaas has attended, accompanied inevitably by media fanfare, could be opened and introduced by his ministers. In other words, Gaas does not have to be present at many of the projects being launched in the region. A benefit of delegating officials to be on the front is that it would give them incentives to do more and feel that they are all part of a team working for the common good. It would also be in the interest of a fair division of labor. Perhaps, a less obvious reason for Gaas not to occupy the limelight all the time is the danger of over-exposure—a cruel reality in politics. The public is unforgiving when it is tired of a politician who is always in the news.

Another mindboggling phenomenon in Puntland is the big crowd of VIPs that always arrives at the Garowe Airport when the president returns from his trips. Dignitaries in waiting include the vice president, ministers, deputy ministers, tribal chieftains, and students carrying boards and pictures of the president. Is this really necessary? Why are all these ministers at the airport welcoming the president when they should be at their desks working?  This is a tradition Gaas needs to stop because it is a waste of resources and an exercise in futility. Governance is work and accomplishment, whereas political campaigning involves fanfare and constant exposure.

Finally, the new President of Afghanistan, Ashraf Ghani, deserves to be acknowledgement as a leader of a failed state that is in the process of recovery. Ghani is co-author of Fixing Failed States (2009), a book that provides a practical guide to the reconstruction of post-conflict countries. In his first month in office, Ghani instituted new changes in his administration. He set a one-hour time limit on cabinet meetings, and even once refused his powerful interior minister admission to a meeting because he was a few minutes late. Ghani abolished lavish dinners at the presidential palace, saying that official meetings were purely for business, not pleasure.  He travels in the capital, Kabul, with a few cars so as not to create traffic gridlock. He allows officials to give public reports by allowing each one to speak for five minutes. Importantly, he has stated, “We will create a scorecard of our promises and report back on their delivery systematically.”  These reforms have rattled many in Afghanistan, who were used to doing business as usual. Gaas, like Ghani, is a former professor who can do the same by introducing an efficient, inclusive, accountable, and gender-sensitive government. Gaas is a different breed of leader in Somalia because of his unique educational background and work experience. He should lead better and be innovative. The first step, perhaps, is eliminating his frivolous trips that cost the regional government badly needed resources.  

 

Perpetual Conflict: Why the Discord Between the Somali President and Prime Minister Continues

The recent conflict between President Hassan S. Mohamoud and Prime Minister Abdiweli Ahmed has caused a gridlock in government operation. The prime minister did a limited and pointed reshuffle, which involved only two cabinet ministers. The problem with this new change was that it involved two close friends and allies of the president. The president, sensing a declaration of war by the premier, issued a decree rescinding the reshuffle. Some politicians and the UN Special Representative to Somalia, Nicolas Kay, have made many attempts to mediate in the conflict between the president and the prime minister, but to no avail.  

The Somali Parliament convened twice after more than 100 legislators attempted to introduce a motion of no confidence in the prime minister. Supporters of the prime minister interrupted these sessions and they were adjourned. Interestingly, Nicholas Kay recently warned Somali legislators against accepting bribes to vote Prime Minister Ahmed out of office, an admonishment that enraged some parliamentarians but was well-received by others for its frankness on the state of malfeasance in Somali politics.

Is the conflict between the president and the prime minister due to ambiguities in the provisional constitution?

While the provisional constitution needs some heavy-duty amendments, it is not the reason why the country’s two top leaders are at loggerheads. Furthermore, the constitution states that the prime minister has the power to “appoint and dismiss members of the Council of Ministers.” The president, in essence, has no business interfering how the prime minister runs the council of ministers so long the premier does not violate the constitution.

This endemic conflict between the president and the prime minister is nothing new. Since 2000, the last four presidents of the country have had major problems with their prime ministers. Ironically, with the exception of President Abdullahi Yusuf, each president had three prime ministers in their respective single terms. President Yusuf’s term was unique because he had no control over Mogadishu more than half of his term as his government was initially based in Nairobi, Kenya, and later the Somali towns of Jowhar and Baidoa respectively.

Of the 10 prime ministers the country has had since 2000, only two were not dismissed (Mohamed Abdi Yusuf and Abdiweli Gaas). Oddly, these two left office after a year because the tenure of their respective governments ended. However, the relationship, for instance, between Gaas and President Shaikh Sharif in the final several months of their term was marred by dysfunction, political competition, and mistrust.

The average Somali prime minister stays in office about 1.3 years. The only one who stayed three years in office was Mohamed Ali Ghedi, under President Yusuf.  President Yusuf’s other premier, Nur Hassan Hussein “Nur Adde,” lasted 2.3 years, a tenure so acrimonious that it finally led to the president’s eventual retirement.

Six prime ministers stayed in office an average of 1.1 years, and one (Mohamed Farmajo) only about seven months. Hassan Abshir and Nur Adde were the only ones who stayed about two years and 2.3 years respectively.

Interestingly, all these prime ministers universally complained about the head of the state trampling on the constitution and, hence, acting as imperial president. The presidents, in turn, questioned the prime ministers’ intransigence and tendency to act on their own. Many times, the sitting parliament became a tool for the sitting president.

Somali President Hassan Mohamoud (l) and PM Abdiweli Ahmed

The conflicts between Somali presidents and their premiers cannot be contributed simply to ambiguities in the constitution or a clash of personalities. The causes lie deeper than that and can be partially explained by the following:

1.       There is the Siad Barre syndrome. Every Somali president wants to be like the late dictator who ruled Somalia for 21 years. The Somali word for president “Madax-Weyne” (The Big-headed) semantically does not help the psychology of the country’s leader very much. Furthermore, the current system is confusing. For instance, according to the constitution, the president, as head of the state, appoints the prime minister, the head of the government, but he cannot dismiss him; only the parliament can. The prime minister is in charge of the Council of Ministers and, hence, the day-to-day operation of the government.  While the current president presumably understands his constitutional powers and limitations, he has been accused of usurping the prime minister’s powers by acting as both the president and prime minister. For the two years he has been in power, President Mohamoud has had two prime ministers he himself carefully and diligently selected.  Comprehending the constitution is one thing, but abiding by it is another. Prime Minister Abdiweli himself braced for confrontation from day one. According to a source close to the prime minister, Abdiweli told some of his supporters that he would “fight” the president and would never be like his predecessor, Abdi Shirdon. At least the prime minister has kept his promise because his working relationship with the president has been marred by discord and open hostility. 

2.      It is ironic that Somalia has neither an effective parliament nor the existence of a judiciary. Since its election in 2012, the parliament has yet to legislate a single law. In addition, according to two legislators who talked to this writer, the going rate for buying a parliamentary vote is an astounding $1,000 and very few get a maximum of $2,000. The executive branch is mostly the one that buys parliamentary votes to further its agenda. The Parliament is the authority that is supposed to check and balance the executive, but it instead has become an appendage of the former. The biggest reason legislators want to vote out the current prime minister is the absence of they called “wada-shaqeyn” (working together) between the president and the prime minister. “The prime minister must go,” one parliamentarian told VOA, “simply because he cannot work with the president.”   

3.      The power structure in the country is based on an unwritten understanding between the bigger clans.  For instance, the president and prime minister come from the two largest clans in the country, the Hawiye and the Darod. Being a member of these two clans is not in itself enough for being a president or prime minister; one has to come from the two largest sub-clans of each of these two big clans (Abgaal or Habar Gidir for the Hawiye and Marehan or Majertein for the Darod).  Somali politics was referred to, in humorous vein by one politician, as an everlasting struggle between Tom and Jerry, the famous cartoon characters. The two clans are constantly chasing each other and trying to outdo each other. What this division of power creates is layers of various constituents and divided loyalties for either the president or the premier. Many times, the interest of one clan group may overlap the interest of the country. For the current administration, the general elections scheduled for 2016 are creating panic and a rush to win over new supporters among the myriad clans.  It won’t come a surprise if President Mohamoud appoints a new Majertein premier (a sub-clan of the Darod) because his first two premiers were Marehan, another sub-clan of the Darod.

The conflicts between Somali presidents and their prime ministers are unlikely to change until there are viable and effective branches of the government, such as the legislature and the judiciary which can serve as check and balance for the executive branch. Otherwise, there is nothing much a new prime minister can do. Last year this time and shortly before the selection of the current prime minister, Professor Afyare Abdi Elmi astutely tweeted.  “I do not know who the next PM of Somalia will be, but I am not sure what he can really do—we need to think of a long-term solution.”

That is unlikely to happen before 2016.

(Reprinted with permission from African Arguments, November 21, 2014).