Hiiraan Online

The Economist
Friday, May 10, 2013

Somalia, however, became a byword for conflict, poverty and ungovernability. Yet its ethnic homogeneity is misleading. Despite also sharing a single language and religion, it is divided into more than 500 clans and sub-clans, who are notoriously fractious and competitive. This, as well as their largely nomadic way of life, has made many Somalis fiercely loth to accept the edicts of a central government.

The last man to exert real authority from the capital, Mogadishu, was a military dictator, Siad Barre, who was ousted in 1991. His downfall was the cue for two decades of civil war. Can the country’s latest president, Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, who was elected by parliament last September, do any better, while using democratic methods?

So far, so good. An uneasy peace holds in much of Somalia, thanks largely to a promise of federalism and decentralised power. Under the prodding of Britain, which has been leading a foreign push to put Somalia on its feet again, the new government accepts that the half a dozen or so of Somalia’s fiefs that enjoy a measure of autonomy should be given their head—and should be only gradually drawn back, if possible, into accepting central authority. So far the mosaic of clans, with their shifting alliances, have mainly held back from openly challenging Mr Mohamud’s government while they wait to see how resources and authority will be shared.

But Mohamed Omar, the foreign minister of Somaliland, a northern breakaway from the rump of Somalia, says the government in Mogadishu has achieved little despite its international backing. Both Somaliland and Puntland, a semi-autonomous north-eastern region, cold-shouldered a grand international conference on Somalia in London on May 7th. “The days when Somalia could be governed from the centre are over,” he said. “Anyone who brings them back will not bring peace.”

A former university dean and civil-rights activist, Mr Mohamud is well liked by foreign governments. In London they pledged $300m in aid in return for his promise of a “new Somalia”. But at home his writ only runs in the areas controlled by forces (mostly Ugandans, Kenyans and Ethiopians) under the aegis of the African Union. He is being closely watched for any signs of breaching his federal pledge.

Some worry that big tasks, such as completing a new constitution, outlining how power will be shared and setting up commissions to define boundaries and electoral systems, have yet to begin. Matt Bryden, a Canadian who runs Sahan Research, a Somali-oriented think-tank in Nairobi, notes that “none of the work has been done towards federalism,” letting critics allege that the government is more centralist than it admits. They fret that the new security forces and police will be dominated by Mr Mohamud’s powerful Hawiye clan.

Abdi Aynte, the head of the Heritage Institute, a think-tank based in Somalia, complains that too many conspiracy theories abound. The president has no hidden agenda, he says, and “an incredibly hard job”. Still, some of Mr Mohamud’s opponents in rival clans are still backing the Shabab, the armed Islamists linked to al-Qaeda that previously dominated the country, to destabilise him. In the past month, scores of people were killed in two Shabab suicide-attacks in Mogadishu.

The United States, which has spent $1.5 billion channelled through the African Union to bring better security, and Britain, which promised another $280m in aid this week, are keen to take credit for gains in Somalia. “Somalia has begun a rapid recovery in the last year,” said Justine Greening, Britain’s development minister, at the conference. “But this will be put at risk if the Somali government cannot manage its own public finances properly, avoid future famines or tackle terrorism and piracy.” Quite so.