Recognizing Somaliland
Ethiopia is on course to break a taboo on African territorial sovereignty; and what it means for the geopolitics of the Horn and wider Red Sea region
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I: Ethiopia is very likely on the road to recognizing Somaliland. That is a big deal.
Last November I argued that Ethiopia needs both reliable access to a seaport and a green-water navy. By population (120m), Ethiopia is the world’s largest landlocked country. Given the economic costs associated with being landlocked, it is hard to imagine the country having a vibrant economy without an efficient transportation and logistics network with links to world markets. At the same time, the geopolitical realities of Ethiopia’s neighborhood in the Horn and wider Red Sea region necessitate having the naval capacity to defend its commercial and security interests. In my analysis, I concluded that Ethiopia’s best option would be to expand its current arrangement with Djibouti, perhaps with a second new port in Tadjoura.
I had not anticipated the bombshell New Year’s announcement of a deal (port and naval base) between Ethiopia and Somalia’s breakaway region of Somaliland.
The details of the deal remain elusive, but the broad strokes include Somaliland acquiring a stake in Africa’s most successful airline, Ethiopian Airlines, while Ethiopia gets access to the port of Berbera as well as land (20km of coastline) for a naval base on the Gulf of Aden. It is also very likely that Ethiopia will eventually recognize Somaliland as a sovereign state.
Somaliland broke away from Somalia in 1991 following 31 years of a tumultuous union (more on this below). Beyond the potential for formal recognition by Ethiopia, Somaliland needs the port deal for economic reasons. 48% of the government budget is funded through trade taxes and port duties. With a GDP of just over US$3.3b and against a population of 3.5m, Hargeisa stands to gain from charging Ethiopia for both port access and the leased land for a naval base. There will undoubtedly be domestic political opposition to the deal — the Somaliland defense minister has reportedly already resigned in protest. The region is slated to hold elections this November, after a two-year postponement due to financial and logistical constraints. It remains to be seen whether it was a wise move by President Muse Bihi Abdi’s administration to enter such a deal in an election year.
The deal’s announcement set off a diplomatic firestorm in the wider region. Understandably, Somalia was furious and recalled its ambassador from Addis Ababa. For now, it is likely that fiery exchanges of words is all that will transpire, plus high-octane Somali nationalism on and offline.
Here are four things that I think will influence Somalia’s response to the deal.
Ethiopia’s potential recognition of Somaliland comes with a lot of historical baggage. After failing in its irredentist support for separatists in Kenya, Somalia invaded Ethiopia in 1977 (Ogaden War) to begin the process of reuniting all the Somali lands — a disastrous move that ignited systemic political instability from which Somalia has never recovered. Should Somaliland successfully gain juridical statehood, Mogadishu would be worried that Jubaland (likely with support from Kenya) would be next in asking for greater autonomy (although I doubt that they would want outright formal independence). Because of the deal’s historical symbolism, Mogadishu is likely to pursue a maximalist rejection of the deal regardless of potential compromises (e.g., future federation). In addition, the levels of Somali nationalism ignited by the deal could play in the hands of extremist groups like Al-Shabaab out to cast the government as a weak sellout. President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud and his administration certainly do not want to be remembered as the people who lost yet another piece of “Greater Somalia.”
Beyond the bilateral historical baggage vis-a-vis Ethiopia, Somalia must also worry about a potential global domino effect. Given its strategic location, Somaliland is geopolitically valuable to several countries that could quickly follow suit and recognize Hargeisa. Like Ethiopia, Kenya would likely not mind helping along a dismemberment of Somalia (see also here). The United Arab Emirates (UAE), whose DP World already runs the Berbera port, is also likely to strengthen bilateral ties with a formal recognition. While other countries may not recognize Hargeisa outright, formal recognition by Ethiopia, Kenya, and the UAE may create an opening to start treating Somaliland as a state — by, for example, accepting its passport and upgrading other formal engagements.
The geostrategic importance of Somaliland is evident in the diplomatic exchanges that followed the announcement of the Ethiopia port deal. Egypt, Ethiopia’s most potent rival in the region, signaled support for Somalia’s territorial integrity. Eritrea and Djibouti also expressed nervousness over the deal (Djibouti stands to lose a share of the US$1.5b it charges Ethiopia every year to use its port). Since it is the revisionist sovereign state, the coming days will be a test of Ethiopia’s diplomatic influence across Africa and the globe. So far, the muted statements from the African Union and major states around the Continent suggest that Ethiopia will not face stiff opposition. The potential deal Somalia with the opportunity to extract benefits from Ethiopia’s (and the UAE’s) geopolitical rivals in the wider Horn and Red Sea regions (especially Egypt, Turkey, and Saudi Arabia). In the context of the geopolitics of the Red Sea, the deal is yet another major win for the UAE — which, incidentally, also has quite a bit of influence in Mogadishu.
Mogadishu has little capacity to prevent the deal from going through on its own. Somalia has little diplomatic heft within the African Union, IGAD, or the EAC. Even worse, it lacks the military capacity to compel either Hargeisa or Addis Ababa to negotiate directly. It is true that several countries have expressed support for Somalia’s territorial integrity. However, talk is cheap. Unless the same countries are willing to go to mat to stop Ethiopia and Somaliland, the deal will most likely go through. After that, the “facts on the ground” will make it even harder for future reunification. Ethiopia will have reasons to defend Somaliland’s independence, while the politics of nationalism will give Mogadishu very little room for compromise.
It is worth reiterating that at this point the head-to-head match up on coercive and diplomatic capacities favors Ethiopia. Addis Ababa has thousands of troops in Somalia countering Al-Shabaab and other security threats — both independently and as part of the African Union Transitional Mission in Somalia (ATMIS). There is no question that a hasty withdrawal of Ethiopian troops would lead to a deterioration of the security situation at a critical juncture in Somalia’s war on Al-Shabaab.
Somalia’s military remains weak and dependent on external support. That said, there is scope for Mogadishu to inflict pain on both Addis Ababa and Hargeisa by supporting armed actors in their respective territories. Ethiopia has a long history of proxy wars via internationalized domestic conflicts. While Somaliland has been stable and largely avoided protracted conflicts since declaring independence in 1991, over the last year it has faced a rebellion in its east organized around efforts to rejoin Somalia — exactly the sort of opportunity that Mogadishu could exploit to its advantage.
II: Putting Somaliland in comparative perspective (On the legacies of fractured colonial pasts)
A lot will be written about the deal between Ethiopia and Somaliland in the coming weeks. As is typical, many commentators will succumb to the temptations of Horn exceptionalism and essentialism. Yet it is worth stepping back and looking at Somaliland in comparative perspective.
Somaliland is in a class of territorial disputes in Africa whose origins stretch back to colonial times or before. The disputes typically involve peripheral regions with histories of separate colonial administrations and/or (precolonial) statehood. Examples include Kenya’s southwestern region and the 10 mile coastal strip, Ghana’s east (“Western Togoland”), Chad’s Aouzou strip, Cameroon’s Anglophone regions, Eritrea, South Sudan, Ethiopia’s Somali State, as well as Somalia’s Jubaland and Somaliland.
A common thread in these cases is that the concerned territorial revisionists (whether states or non-state actors) have expressly leaned on histories of separate government to assert their claims. Notice that these disputes have not necessarily been due to the alleged arbitrariness of African borders (in any case, all borders are arbitrary! What matters is what states make of them). Neither have they all been irredentist or exclusively identity-based claims. Instead, the disputes have been the result of political entrepreneurs leveraging historical imagined communities founded on shared administrative histories (other secessionist attempts, e.g., Cabinda, Casamance, Biafra, and Katanga did not invoke similar claims).
Among these cases, only Eritrea and South Sudan have so far managed to secede and gain international recognition. Importantly, both of them did so with the full agreement of the state from which each seceded. This suggests that even if Ethiopia, Kenya, or the UAE recognize Somaliland, Hargeisa will most likely continue to struggle — much like it has since 1991 — to gain broad-based recognition without the explicit consent of Mogadishu. All the other cases show that norms against secession (as promoted by the OAU/AU) are fairly strong, regardless of the strength of rebellion or public opinion in affected territories. The easiest cases to dismiss have been claims by a neighboring country that have no support among affected populations. Ghana and Kenya have been able to crush would-be armed secessionists before they could turn into full-blown insurgencies.
Below I briefly discuss each of these examples before diving deeper into the case of Somaliland. The objective of this exercise is to place the Somaliland case in comparative perspective.
1) Claims on Kenyan territories: Uganda’s Amin, Somali irredentism, and coastal secessionists
Since gaining independence Kenya has contended with three serious threats to its territorial integrity: i) Somalia’s irredentist claims and support for separatists in its northeast, ii) Idi Amin’s claims of its western third based on old colonial borders (see below), and iii) separatist movements along the coast based on historical ties to Swahili city states loyal to the Zanzibari Sultanate. Both the Somali irredentist movement (1960s) and the coastal rebellion (2010s) were military defeated by the Kenyan state before they grew into proper insurgencies. Idi Amin’s claims fizzled in the face of Kenyan deterrence. All three examples highlight the importance of state coercive capacity as an initial test of whether secessionist claims of these kinds become serious affairs that would then attract international attention.
2) The spoils of German defeat in Ghana and Cameroon
Eastern Ghana includes lands that were once part of German Togoland. When Germany lost World War I the territory was split between the United Kingdom and France. For decades Ghana had to contend with fringe groups that invoked the history of German Togoland to mobilize for “Western Togoland” separatism. In the same vein, Cameroon’s Anglophone Crisis, a low-grade civil war, is also a byproduct of the partition of a former German colony. In the initial partition the UK took the Western Cameroons and France the rest. However, on the eve of independence the Southwestern Cameroons voted to join francophone Cameroon under a federalist structure. Yaoundé’s subsequently abrogation of the federalist arrangement and its protections for anglophone self-determination is, to a large extent, the main driver of the current crisis.
Both of these cases have largely been treated as domestic affairs and therefore have not raised questions of foreign recognition — largely because separatists have failed to be able to set up a regularized system of autonomous self-government. Unlike Cameroon, Ghana’s “West Togoland” question has very little chance of growing into a full-blown insurgency in part because of the successful integration of the peoples in the territory in question into the Ghanaian state (especially during the Rawlings administration). In Cameroon, both language and Paul Biya’s decades-long dictatorship have made it hard to build an open-access political system that affords anglophones full membership in the Cameroonian political community. The insurgency is now in its 7th year with little chance of resolution as long as Biya remains alive.
3) Gaddafi’s grandiose dreams
Disputed ownership over the Aouzou strip was an important subplot in Chad’s civil war in the late 1970s as well as the infamous Great Toyota War between Chad and Libya. The dispute stemmed from a history of back-and-forth swaps between French and Italian colonial administrations of lands in northern Chad. Like King Idris before him, Muammar Gaddafi was happy to exploit this history to try and grab a part of Chad, first by engaging in a proxy conflict through support for Chadian rebels and then direct engagement of the Chadian military. Libya’s claims were based on the fact that the strip had a history of administrative and cultural unity with the rest of Libya going back to Ottoman times, not to mention a 1935 Franco-Italian treaty that allegedly made it part of Libya.
Gaddafi would have probably grabbed the Aouzou strip and much of the “borderlands” had Djamena not received French assistance throughout the wars of the 1970s and 1980s. That said, it is highly unlikely that the OAU would have legitimized the land grab with a formal recognition of the new boundary so imposed. In 1994 the International Court of Justice (ICJ) ruled in favor of Chad and settled the matter. Libya promptly accepted the terms of the ruling and relinquished its claims on the Aouzou strip.
4) Eritrea and South Sudan: the two rare successes
Among this class of cases, only Eritrea and South Sudan have so far successfully gained independence. In both cases secessionists could invoke a history of administrative separateness. And perhaps most importantly, both cases involved the consent of the former capital — mostly because it became obvious that it was going to be very costly (both militarily and diplomatically) to hold onto the territories.
The historical basis of Eritrea’s claim for independence was the fact that, in addition to never being fully integrated into the Ethiopian empire over the preceding centuries, colonial-era Eritrea was governed separately by Italians (1880-1941) and the British (1941-1952), before federation (1952-1963) and incorporation as a province of Ethiopia (1963-1991). In other words, for almost a century the country had only ever been part of Ethiopia proper during peacetime for 11 years before the 1974 revolution and the onset of the long civil war. Despite decades of trying, it was only after 1991 that it became possible to secure the agreement of the government in Addis to secede.
South Sudan gained independence in 2011 after decades of civil war. Initially, the main point of contention was not independence but administrative autonomy for the south and exemption from the north’s theocratic governance. In addition to the religious and cultural differences between the north and south, the latter was also (mal)administered differently during the colonial era Anglo-Egyptian Condominium. South Sudan’s orientation (English medium education and conversations to Christianity) was closer to colonial British East Africa than to the largely Middle Eastern oriented north. Importantly, and similar to Eritrea, it was only after Khartoum agreed to the possibility of independence that the door was opened to international recognition of an independent South Sudan.
5) Fractured Somali lands: when broad-based ethnolinguistic homogeneity collides with disparate administrative histories
Compared to the cases above, Somaliland looks a lot closer to the Eritrean case than the rest. Like Eritrea in 1953, it willingly chose union with the rest of Somalia in 1960 only for the terms of union to be violated shortly after. And like Eritrea, it exploited civil war to try and reassert its independence under conditions that made it too costly for the war-weary capital to resist such a move. The only difference is that while Eritrea had a consenting government in Addis Ababa to facilitate its secession, Somaliland’s neo-founders in the late 1980s lacked a credible counterpart among the different warlords that fought the Siyad Barre regime and then turned on each other after 1991.
As shown above, the separate Somali lands (distinct regions with majority Somali speakers) fit the mold of histories of fractured (colonial) administration. Jubaland was part of British East Africa until 1926, and continues to sue for greater autonomy on that basis to this day. Despite later incorporation into the Ethiopian empire, the Ogaden region was governed by the Italians (1936-1941) as part of Somalia — a fact that partially motivated Somalia’s invasion of Ethiopia in 1977-78. Colonial British Somaliland was governed separately from Italian Somaliland. It was only after independence in 1960 that the two formed what we now know as unified Somalia.
The post-independence union between the former British and Italian Somali lands was rocky from the start (Somaliland officers attempted a secessionist coup in December 1961):
During the first five years or so, the Union experienced serious difficulties in amalgamating different administrative, judicial, and economic systems. A written form for Somali was not decided until under military rule in 1972. The post-independence bureaucracy, therefore, resembled the Tower of Babel: English, Italian and Arabic were all used as official languages in a haphazard manner. When UNESCO and other significant donors influenced the Government to adopt English in a unified educational system, southern civil servants were enraged and this exacerbated regional tensions. Northemers resented the involvement in politics of the civil service in the south; they believed it had learned about bureaucratic and political corruption from the Italians.
However, Somali nationalism (which was as strong in the north as the rest of Somalia) kept the young country united. As far as the nation-building project went, things only fell apart in the after the failed invasion of Ethiopia (1977-78). The lead up to the war did a lot more for Somalian nation-building than the war and its aftermath:
The Ogaden War had been a moment of romantic exaltation which had, for a while, made people forget the prejudices and incompetence that had marked the days following the 1960 ‘unification’.
After losing the Ogaden War, President Siyad Barre became more authoritarian and resorted to instrumentally exploit the country’s clan structure in a cynical divide-and-rule play:
Siyad dropped his socialist facade and adopted clanism (tribalism) as a manipulative tool to continue to hold on to power after a Soviet led Cuban Ethiopian offensive pushed his army from the Ogaden. By 1982, he had built the army into a force 120,000 strong for internal repression. In rural areas he encouraged clan based conflicts and in urban areas clan based massacres by his notorious specialised military units. He singled out the Isaq clan-family in Somaliland for neo-fascist type of punishment […]
Semi-colonial subjugation helped rekindle collective self-assertion which the northern clan-based opposition movement, the Somali National Movement (SNM) channelled into the declaration of the Somaliland Republic soon after the Siyad dictatorship fell early in 1991.
What Somaliland was able to achieve after 1991 was impressive. Despite the occasional outbreak of conflict, peace returned to much of the territory. The region was also able to avoid the fractious clan-based warlordism that continued to plague southern Somalia, and actually began to cultivate a system of democratic government. All this happened without the sort of robust post-conflict international interventions and assistance that typical follow civil wars.
How did they do it? The answer lies in the socio-economic differences between northern and southern Somalia that shaped their respective political economies.
The north was largely pastoralist, while the south relied on farming. Northerners were relatively more nomadic than southerners. Northern elites heavily relied on animal exports across the Gulf of Aden. Reliance on farming made southerners’ farm output easily taxable through government-run marketing boards. There was no equivalent for northern animal exports (a policy change to grab northerners’ forex earnings helped fuel the rebellion in 1981). The availability of arable land meant there was a lot more to fight over in the south after 1991, compared to the poorer and largely nomadic north. Finally, relative poverty in the north meant that both the Somali National Movement insurgency in the 1980s and subsequent self-declared independent government after 1991 had to rely on remittances from abroad. This, in addition to discrimination against northern elites (especially those from the Isaaq clan) by the southern government after 1960, helped coordinate and discipline intra-elite cooperation. Of course clan politics (especially Isaaq dominance) also mattered. But the economic variables above appear to have been decisive in shaping clan politics.
III: Conclusion
If the deal with Ethiopia gets fully implemented, Somaliland will likely join the ranks of de facto states that nonetheless remain in legal limbo as far as international law goes. There is very little chance that Mogadishu would ever agree to its secession and therefore open the door for other countries to recognize it. However, as long as Hargeisa is able to maintain its stable economic and political system, there is every reason to believe that it will be able to chart its own future separate from the rest of Somalia just like it has since 1991.
Unfortunately for Mogadishu, this crisis comes at a time when it has a weak hand. Time being on Somaliland’s side, anything that reifies its status as a de facto state — like hosting the Ethiopian navy — will make it harder to reabsorb the region. In addition, given Mogadishu’s internal weaknesses, starting fires in Ethiopia or Somaliland will likely backfire back home where the state remains weak and there are a lot more violent entrepreneurs for hire.
Under the circumstances, the best way forward for Somalia’s leadership would be to leverage the rise in nationalism in reaction to the deal to break Al-Shabaab’s back once and for all, and begin the process of post-conflict economic recovery and institutionalization of politics. The fact that both global and region norms largely grant Somalia the final word on Somaliland’s recognition is an important bargaining chip that Mogadishu could use in the future when it is in a stronger position and able to extract concessions from both Addis Ababa and Hargeisa.
Fantastic read! I never knew much about Somaliland so I really appreciate the background and contextualization
I have been puzzling over this issue; thanks for the explanation.