Anonymous | Thursday, October 12, 2000 - 03:16 pm Will there be peace in Somalia now? By Bernhard Helander Almost hidden in the chorus of high-pitched voices rejoicing the recent election of a president for Somalia, there are some less optimistic aspects that have remained outside of the media focus. To raise doubts is a little bit like swearing in church; how can anyone seriously be against peace in Somalia? A country the suffering of which has prompted so much world-wide distress, so much aid and that has contributed to an entirely new form of peace-keeping labelled 'humanitarian intervention', surely it's nothing more than academic hair-splitting to object to the peace believed to be under way. Now that this country that has been without a central government since 1991 finally has set up a parliament in neighbouring Djibouti and that parliament in turn has elected a president and now that vast amounts of Somalis eagerly await this president's appointment of his first cabinet - this must mean that peace has finally come? Objections The objections do not primarily focus on the extraordinary format of the rise of this yet-to-be-appointed government. While there are ample reasons to question a 'parliament' with so many members living in exile and while one may wonder what's in it for Djibouti that has lost valuable parts of its transit trade to a self-proclaimed independent part of Somalia, an independence now challenged by the very conference that Djibouti has initiated and hosted, let's, at least temporarily, leave such issues aside. The more substantial objection is instead that the current process is out of phase with the realities in Somalia. It could perhaps have been a good idea to assemble in Djibouti back in 1991, just after the former regime had been toppled. In fact the major political leaders did precisely that - twice - and they even elected a new president who became the first in a series of rival presidents that has since emerged. Admittedly it's been a few years now since the last appointment of a president claiming to operate on the national level, but the point is that having someone named for that position is nothing new and it has not helped to solve anything in the past, just created new rivalries and more instability. The Somali political landscape What is the kind of political landscape in which this president is going to operate? It is certainly not a uniform structure just lacking some key persons the appointment of which will mend the conflicts and make the Somali state re-emerge. On the contrary the conditions created by 10 years of statelessness are to a large extent irreversible. First of all two large territories of the former Somali republic have formed their own independent states with their own governments, parliaments and heads of state. The former British colony in the northwest of Somalia declared its secession already in 1991. While political leaders in Somaliland, as it now calls itself, may want to hold a door open for some form of future merger with the rest of the country, the popular support for independence is enormous. Slightly less determined to pursue independence, Somaliland's eastern neighbour, calling itself the Puntland State of Somalia, was formally launched in 1998 but was preceded by a number of regional administrations. Somaliland and Puntland arguably comprise about a third of the Somali population and both governments have refused to play any role in the Djibouti process. They regard the appointment of a national level government as a direct threat against the stability that they have established locally. In the case of Puntland, the Djibouti conference has served as a forums for the internal opposition to the current leadership seeking to apply the nationalist rhetoric to their own, very local, power ambitions. Fragments and stability It is important to emphasise that Somaliland and Puntland, while perhaps the most stable ones, are not the only regional governments with a de facto control of more or less autonomous areas. It could be argued that the whole country consists of a patchwork of such locally formed polities of various sizes, with varying internal stability and with highly varied life spans. The type of leadership that these polities have is also increasingly based on local political histories involving commercial elites, militant Islamists, former politicians, traditional leaders, wealthy returnees and militia and military leaders. While the infamous 'war lords' of the early 1990's are still around, and here and there form part of the local competition for power, the last five or six years have gradually seen their power diluted and their range of influence shrinking. In this process, that some has termed the radical localisation of Somali politics, the goal of restoring a national government has become reduced to an increasingly empty rhetoric, fashionable among some exiled intellectuals and, now and then, forming the theme for internationally sponsored conferences. The point is that many of these small polities are doing fairly well. Or, more correctly, a good number of people with influence within these polities are doing fairly well. Rampant capitalism reigns and businessmen are always willing to at least consider exchanging some of their profits for protection of their investments, thus ensuring a small but steady trickle of 'taxation' into the hands of 'politicians' to allow investments in public services and increased political goodwill. Thus an unholy alliance of business interests and political entrepreneurship forms a kind of centripetal force creating relative stability and a climate that allows the delivery of at least rudimentary social services. Yet the flip side of the coin is the centrifugal force in the shape of the system of clanship. The fragmentation of the state has its close parallel (some would say reason) in the fragmentation of clan identities. Clans are really tiny groups of people bound together by obligations to pay blood wealth and other forms of legal compensation. In times of peace such groups merge and large-scale kinship-based clans emerge. In times of war these clans fall apart, sometimes even the blood wealth groups have to split up. For the political life this means that trust - one of the most essential aspects of any society - becomes an increasingly scarce commodity. And as clans fragment the social basis for the tiny polities erode and that forces leaders to start all over again, on a smaller scale, narrowing the geographical scope and with a waning social catchment area. This is a good recipe for economic disaster. When a 'state' becomes a few blocks in the bombed-out former capital there is simply nothing left to fight over. Somaliland and Puntland have been able, for different reasons, to manoeuvre themselves free from these disastrous developments. In Somaliland the armed struggle against the Siyad Barre regime from 1982 and onwards formed a point of departure for an impressive process of localised peace conferences that eventually embraced all groups in the former British colony and resulted in the decision to secede. This decision also gained impetus from the first Djibouti conference in 1991 where yet another southerner had been proclaimed president. Somalilanders felt that they had suffered under the patronage of southern rule for 20 years and were not willing to try a new such constellation. The reasons why Puntland has been able to avoid the southern fragmentation has much to do with the fierce battles fought against southern militias back in 1992. These battles (some count them as the bloodiest in the entire Somali civil war) forced the emergence of a series of attempts to establish regional and interregional administrations. The large stream of capital and migrants from the south to Puntland has also given the area a good number of social and economic reasons to stay clear of the muddle in the south. The recent political history of Southern Somalia The southern part of the country has had a rather different history that has produced a broad set of motivations to speed up the breakdown of political loyalties. It was the fierce battles in and around the capital Mogadishu that really marked the beginning of the full-scale civil war. The amassment of political and economic resources, not least by the UN and other agencies, to Mogadishu, unfortunately served to increase the economic basis for fission. The potential spoils on the national level were enormous, but in Mogadishu you could do rather well with much less. Today the UN and most others have left. The harbour and airport are closed. Most of the essential agricultural resources are far inland. The main export outlets are in Somaliland and Puntland. The only safe way of getting an income is to set up yet another checkpoint, blocking off an even smaller area than before. And so the southern fragmentation continues. It is in that context that a 'national conference' comes in so handy. The political culture of Somalia has a built-in shortcut to overcome fragmentation and division: assign a common external enemy and you will pull together the many strands of a fragmented political reality. As Machiavellian as it may sound in it's simplicity it formed an essential part of the toolbox that kept Somalia's overthrown dictator Siyad Barre in power for more than 20 years. So who will play the role of enemy? The obvious choice throughout the past 10 years has been to appeal to 'nationalism' to and revive the nation-state rhetoric from the height of Somalis modernist era just around independence. In that light Somaliland's secession and Puntland's autonomy become indigestible disobediences that must be put straight. The northern 'enemies' There are few issues in the south that have created an equal amount of concerted opinion as the animosity expressed against the secession of Somaliland. Nearly every one of the twenty or so 'peace agreements' that southern factions have signed throughout the war starts off with the phrase "The unity of Somalia is sacred." The implicit reference to Somaliland (that never took part in any of these conferences) couldn't be made clearer. The fact that Somaliland's economy has gradually improved and the political stability is admirable has not impressed many southerners. With the former capital in ruins and in a political climate characterised by increasing fission of even originally tiny fragments there is at least the common enemy Somaliland to bemoan. It is as if the declared secession was to blame for all the disasters that the south has suffered and while Puntland does not officially claim anything else than it's willingness to be part of a future federal Somalia, it too is seen as a threat to the re-emergence of a united Somali Republic. It is in this context that we should view the Djibouti conference, the parliament and the president it selected. It is in the possibility of confrontation between Puntland/Somaliland and the south that the real threats lie. And to be fair we must allow the thought that Djibouti has not invested in this huge conference out of unselfish interests in bringing about peace in the very distant southern Somalia. Djibouti is a barren desert that survives on generous French aid and the Ethiopian transit trade. Recently France has substantially reduced its support and a small but increasing share of the Ethiopian trade now goes through Somaliland instead. To make the point very clear one should also be aware that the part of Somaliland that borders on Djibouti comprises some excellent farming land. A cargo cult So what is going to happen? Well, it has already started. The new president has gone to the south where a veritable cargo cult has exploded. Congratulatory telegrams from heads of state all over the world are mixed with local signs of appreciation like awarding the president with the gold medals for different sport accomplishments. This is now thought to be the decisive turning point that will reopen all the international checkbooks and see to that the stream of foreign aid comes back. Nothing of the sort is of course going to happen and it is at that point real danger emerges. When the celebrating crowds in the streets of Mogadishu realise that they've been let down this time, too, that will be the point when some really good strategies are needed. Given the backing of Djibouti it will be tempting for the new president to use the nationalist angle to maintain his momentum. One can foresee a number of different scenarios that all involve some sort of combination of Djibouti's more obscure interests and the interest of Somalia's most recent president in creating a larger polity than that offered by any of the southern fiefdoms for himself and his cabinet. It is probably only by very explicitly targeting the northern secessionists that the southern power base can expand. Put in slightly different words: the road to political success in the fragmented south is to attack the stable north. A farfetched conspiracy theory? Maybe. But one must remember that the new president served in vital cabinet positions for Siyad Barre during more than a decade. Djibouti's president is himself related to others in the same sphere of politicians. And key members of the parliament include people like the former military commander of Siyad Barre. One must also point out that an 'attack' in this case must not necessarily involve military means. There is enough harm to be done in diplomatic and aid circles to cause serious blows to both Puntland and Somaliland. The international actors in and around Somalia offer a number of potential allies for someone who expresses willingness to shoulder the task of putting a unified Somalia back on the track. The family of Nairobi-based UN organisations involved in Somalia - often internally fragmented in bitter fights over increasingly meagre resource flows - have a number of actors willing to put their weight behind a fresh political force in Somalia. In fact the most senior UN diplomat, David Stephen, has directed the entire Djibouti process. It is also an inauspicious sign that the Italian envoy to Somalia hurried to Djibouti to attend a human rights seminar with the newly appointed MPs. If it comes to a point where the UN, the EU and other organisations have to make a choice between working for something that purportedly could lead to a reunification of Somalia, or to go on working with increasingly minuscule local administrations, the choice will be rather easy. In fact, the UN aid coordinator Randolph Kent quickly pledged that the new government (although there is not one appointed yet) was going to have a tremendous impact on the work of aid organisations. Disastrous effects But the aid organisations are not the only international actors involved in Somalia. A number of other African countries also have vested interests in Somalia or play very high-profile roles in the politics of reinventing the country. Libya, to mention just one, has given financial support to every actor in the current conflict. Backing both Puntland and southern politicians, Khadaffi seems to have established future friends no matter how it all ends. However, even Khadaffi's generous recent offers to the rival warlords in Mogadishu was not enough to buy the new president their support. Despite extensive meetings in Tripoli, Hussein Aydiid has simply declared that he recognises his new rival as another "local leader." Postponing the appointments for the cabinet remains the only trick for the president to ward off the increasing sphere of critics at home and abroad. The idea is of course to make everyone believe that there eventually will be a position for them. This may do the trick for a while. But with some of more famous crooks of the Siyad Barre era reported to be on their way back to take up positions in the new government, even the more insignificant of warlords appear to feel that there is more to lose by joining than by simply resisting. The many outlandish figures that have been mentioned as possible premiers of the coming government, include a man who in 1991 run off in a private airplane with a good part of the state's finances in his pockets. The more serious political observers in Mogadishu, like the Dr Ismail Jum'ale Human Rights Centre, has throughout the Djibouti process argued a truth commission is needed in Somalia and that persons known to have committed war crimes and other criminal offences should be blocked from participation in the political process. So will there be peace in Somalia now? The question answers itself. Is it good policy to establish an exiled government whose only chance of success lies in attacking those parts of the country that, through their own efforts, have reached stability? Whose interests are really served by this? Less then a year ago, the word of the day among the international organisations was the so-called building bloc approach to Somalia. It was widely argued that the only road ahead was for other parts of Somalia to follow the examples set by Somaliland and Puntland. With what first appeared to be a quick-fix solution within reach, those plans were buried. However, the first telltale effects of the Djibouti process are already at hand: Trading in the Mogadishu area has significantly decreased and food prices has surged unexpectedly for the season. Exiled Somalis who normally pay regular visits to the country have cancelled their trips. Even more serious are the bands of ex-militias who now room the city centre demanding to be employed by the police force the president has declared he is going to set up. The short answer to the peace question is no. But unfortunately the more serious issue that observers all over the world now confront is that of limitation of damages. Will the effects of this latest disastrous move in Somalia simply go away as the name of the "president" becomes forgotten in the coming months? It is still too early to say because with the international stakes raised high and a number of bureaucratic carriers deeply invested it remains uncertain whether peace will prevail. Bernhard Helander, Lecturer of Cultural Anthropology, Uppsala University, was the ex-editor of Somalia News Update |