Recent diplomatic exchanges between Mogadishu and Hargeisa expose a deep contradiction between Somalia’s legal claims over Somaliland and the political realities on the ground in the Horn of Africa. By describing Somaliland as a northern administrative region and by wrapping its objections in anti-Zionist language, the Somali federal government is trying to project a theory of sovereignty onto a territory it does not actually govern. Somaliland’s response, by contrast, has been grounded in practical governance, institutional continuity, and international legal argument. What is unfolding here is not ordinary diplomatic friction. It is an effort by a weak central authority to preserve the appearance of control over a space that has, for more than three decades, functioned outside its reach. In that sense, Somalia’s position is an attempt to disguise the reality of separation.

To understand Mogadishu’s territorial claim, it is necessary to look at the legal and political history of Somaliland itself. Somaliland’s current status is better understood as the product of state collapse and political dissolution, not as an illegal secession. When Somaliland gained independence from Britain in June 1960, it briefly existed as a recognized sovereign state before entering a union with the former Italian-administered south to form the Somali Republic. That union later unraveled when the central state collapsed in 1991, prompting Somaliland to restore the boundaries of its former independence. On the standards commonly associated with statehood in international law, Somaliland meets the basic criteria: it has a permanent population, a defined territory, an effective government, and the capacity to conduct external relations. For thirty-five years, Hargeisa has maintained its own constitutional order, currency, and peaceful transfers of power. Against that backdrop, Mogadishu’s claim looks increasingly formalistic and politically hollow.

As its own administrative weakness has become harder to conceal, the federal government has increasingly turned to identity politics and civilizational rhetoric to strengthen its position. The latest anti-Israel and anti-Ethiopian language is not simply a matter of principle; it is a calculated effort to shift attention away from internal fragility. By casting Ethiopia’s maritime understanding with Somaliland as a violation of Muslim sovereignty and presenting Israel’s engagement as part of a Zionist threat, Somalia turns a territorial dispute into a larger ideological struggle. This serves two purposes. At home, it helps the federal government present itself as the defender of a shared religious cause, in the hope of holding together a fractured political arena. Abroad, it seeks support from the wider Islamic world, where moral and symbolic language can sometimes generate diplomatic sympathy even when hard power is lacking. In both cases, the aim is to strengthen Mogadishu’s hand while isolating Somaliland.

That strategy becomes clearer when Somalia’s position toward the United Arab Emirates is placed in a wider regional context. Mogadishu’s hostility toward Abu Dhabi has never been fully consistent, because it has always been shaped by the rivalry between Saudi Arabia and the UAE. The Emiratis have promoted a model in the Horn of Africa that favors direct relationships with sub-state actors and regional authorities, rather than exclusive reliance on central governments. In Yemen, they backed the Southern Transitional Council and worked around the Saudi-backed central state. In Somaliland, they used the same logic by investing heavily in Berbera and dealing directly with Hargeisa. Somalia condemned this as a violation of sovereignty, but its response was strongest when the Saudi-UAE split was most visible. In other words, Mogadishu’s assertiveness was not constant; it rose during a period when Saudi concerns about Emirati influence could be used to its advantage.

Once the Saudi-UAE rivalry began to ease, Somalia’s room for maneuver narrowed. Without a sharp split between Riyadh and Abu Dhabi, Mogadishu could no longer rely on Saudi backing as a shield against Emirati activity. Continuing an open confrontation with the UAE became costly, especially given Abu Dhabi’s financial reach, maritime influence, and political weight across the Arab world. As a result, Somalia gradually pulled back from its anti-UAE posture and moved toward a quieter form of accommodation. But the need to maintain domestic nationalist energy did not disappear. Instead, Mogadishu redirected its rhetoric toward opponents that were politically useful and strategically safer to attack: Ethiopia and Israel. Both could be framed as external threats without risking the same level of economic retaliation that would come with directly confronting Abu Dhabi. This shift allowed Somalia to preserve a confrontational narrative while avoiding the costs of a serious clash with Gulf power.

Yet stepping back from public confrontation with the UAE did not eliminate the underlying problem of Emirati influence in Somaliland. Somalia therefore has relied on a more layered foreign policy arrangement, built around Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and a managed relationship with the UAE. Aligning itself with Saudi preferences for centralized state stability gives Mogadishu an important diplomatic anchor, especially because Riyadh tends to view armed sub-state actors and fragmented authority as a threat to regional order. At the same time, Somalia depends heavily on Turkey for security capacity. Ankara has embedded itself deeply in Somalia’s state architecture through military training, naval cooperation, and maritime agreements that provide Somali authorities with protection and strategic support. Together, Saudi political backing and Turkish security involvement give Mogadishu a way to counter Somaliland’s autonomy project, while a carefully moderated relationship with the UAE prevents a broader rupture with Gulf capital.

This external balancing act, however, only becomes more revealing when placed beside Somalia’s internal political fragmentation. The federal government is not just struggling with Somaliland; it is also struggling to hold together the territory it already claims. Its attempt to rewrite the provisional constitution and impose a disputed hybrid electoral model has deepened distrust among federal and regional actors. Rather than strengthening national cohesion, these moves have sharpened political contestation and encouraged a more transactional form of federalism. Puntland and Jubaland have openly distanced themselves from Mogadishu, while South West State has resisted federal attempts to displace local authority. As a result, foreign powers are not dealing with a unified central state, but with a fragmented political field made up of semi-autonomous regions and competing centers of influence. Against this background, it becomes difficult for Mogadishu to insist that Somaliland must return to a constitutional order that the federal government itself cannot stabilize within its own borders.

The same weakness is even more visible in Somalia’s struggle against Al-Shabaab. The transition from the African Union Transition Mission in Somalia to the African Union Support and Stabilization Mission across 2025 and 2026 has created security gaps that militants have repeatedly exploited. Rather than being contained, Al-Shabaab has continued to mount offensives, reclaim territory, and conduct complex attacks deep inside government-held areas. The May 2025 suicide attack on the Damaanyo military recruitment center in Mogadishu was a stark reminder of how vulnerable the federal state remains even in its own capital. This exposes the central contradiction in Somalia’s regional posture: it continues to campaign aggressively against Somaliland while failing to secure territory only a short distance from the presidential palace. For decades, the federal government has neither collected taxes in Somaliland nor provided services there, yet it still devotes resources to external pressure campaigns instead of consolidating control over its own unstable hinterland.

From a broader geopolitical perspective, Somalia’s priorities are therefore misplaced. The real challenge facing the federal government is not how to reverse Somaliland’s long-standing separation, but how to repair the institutional weaknesses inside Mogadishu’s own borders. A state that does not possess a monopoly over force and depends on foreign military support to avoid collapse is in no position to claim authority over a neighboring polity that has developed durable institutions and relative stability.

By Bezawit Eshetu, Researcher, Horn Review