By Abdullahi A. Nor

The language of Somali politics is changing — and it is no longer the language of compromise.With just 47 days remaining in the presidential mandate, Somalia is entering a moment of acute uncertainty. FGS State Minister on interior Mr. Sadaad Aliyow said yesterday “federal troops are preparing to move on Baidoa with Kismayo potentially next” — suggest the country may be crossing a dangerous threshold: from political crisis into open internal confrontation.

Today, Southwest State did what the Federal Government increasingly cannot: it acted. In a swift and decisive sequence, it elected President Abdiaziz Hassan Mohamed Laftagareen, elected Speaker Ali Fiqi, and swore in its third parliament. No paralysis. No grandstanding. No endless declarations detached from reality. Just political execution.

It was a moment that echoed one of Somalia’s proudest chapters. In 1964, as Ethiopia launched war against Somalia, Somali leaders did not hide behind excuses or suspend democratic processes. They moved forward with a clarity of purpose captured in a single line: “We will fight with one hand and vote with the other.”

Even under existential threat, the state functioned. Today, there is no foreign army marching on the capital — yet the paralysis is deeper, the divisions sharper, and the leadership more disconnected.

Because instead of recognizing or even engaging with this political process, Hassan Sheikh Mohamud chose dismissal.

“There is no way we would accept indirect elections. The country is going for one-person, one-vote.” It is a statement that would be visionary — if it were grounded in reality. But it is not.

It is rhetoric floating above a country where federal relations have collapsed, where Puntland and Jubaland have severed ties with Mogadishu, where Southwest State is now openly asserting its autonomy, and where Somaliland has long exited the federal framework altogether.

This is not a country preparing for universal suffrage. This is a country struggling to hold itself together. And yet, the presidency speaks in absolutes — as though institutions exist where they do not, as though consensus can be commanded, and as though legitimacy can be declared into existence.

This is not leadership. It is denial. Worse, it is dangerous denial. Because imposing political models without political agreement has consequences. History has shown, repeatedly, that Somalia does not respond to centralization through compliance — it responds through fragmentation.

The tragedy is not the ambition of one-person, one-vote. That is a goal worth striving for. The tragedy is pretending it can be imposed in a vacuum of trust, security, and political agreement.

The result is predictable: deeper division, greater resistance, and a widening gulf between the state as imagined and the state as it exists.  So, the question must be asked — not quietly, but directly:

Which Somalia is this vision meant for?

Because it is not the Somalia that exists today. And until leadership begins to confront reality rather than narrate over it, the country will continue its slow drift — not toward democracy, but toward disintegration.

What makes this moment even more alarming is that it is unfolding alongside a near-total collapse in relations between the Federal Government and key Federal Member States—in a country already marked by fragmentation.

Jubaland and Puntland have already severed ties with the Federal Government. Now, Southwest State has followed suit — And to the north, Somaliland has long operated as a self-governing entity, effectively outside Mogadishu’s authority for over three decades — a reality that underscores how fragile Somalia’s territorial cohesion has become. If this trajectory continues, Somalia risks not just political crisis — but systemic rupture. leaving Mogadishu increasingly isolated at the very moment it appears to be preparing for confrontation.

 At the center of this moment is a presidency widely perceived by the public as acting with urgency — not to build consensus, but to consolidate control before its mandate expires.

Over the past four years, both citizens and political actors have accused President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud of prioritizing nepotism, patronage networks, and the consolidation of personal power over national cohesion. A growing body of evidence points to the systematic sell-off of public land in Mogadishu, with state assets quietly absorbed into private hands through opaque deals lacking transparency, accountability, and public oversight.

Attention has now shifted to Bakara Market — the largest market in the capital — where sections are being seized in what the masses describe as a controversial land grab. The consequences of earlier land disposals have already been severe: mass displacement on a staggering scale, with estimates suggesting that as many as 750,000 people have been forced into internal displacement.

At the same time, the administration has advanced constitutional changes drafted without broad consultation, deepening concerns over unilateral governance and the bypassing of established institutions. Taken together, these developments have reinforced a growing perception of a government operating outside consensus — and increasingly beyond legal restraint.

This is no longer political signaling. It is the articulation of a doctrine — one that places central authority above negotiation, and force above federal accommodation.

Federalism Under Direct Threat

For Somalia, this shift carries existential consequences. Federalism — the agreed upon system – has been the foundation of fragile stability, a system designed to balance power in a deeply fragmented political landscape.

“If federalism does not function as intended, it will be discarded,” the state minister of interior Mr. Sadaad Aliyow said. “We will return to a system where the central government assumes full control.”

This is not a minor policy adjustment. It is a direct challenge to the very foundation of Somalia’s current political order. Federalism in Somalia was not adopted as a preference — it was a necessity, designed to balance power, prevent domination, and accommodate deeply rooted regional identities after decades of state collapse. To remove it without consensus risks reopening the very fractures it was meant to contain.

But with three Federal Member States already disengaged from Mogadishu, and a de facto separate polity in Somaliland, any attempt to impose central authority risks accelerating fragmentation rather than reversing it. This is no longer a theoretical debate about governance. It is a live test of whether Somalia remains a negotiated union — or continues to fracture.

A Fragmenting State

The breakdown in relations is no longer subtle — it is structural.

• Puntland has long distanced itself over constitutional disputes and governance concerns.
• Jubaland has resisted federal pressure, particularly around leadership and security control.
• Southwest State now joins them, signaling a widening rift that leaves the federal center increasingly isolated.
• Meanwhile, Somaliland continues to operate entirely outside the federal framework.

This evolving landscape raises a stark question: how much of Somalia still functions as a unified state?

The Regional Chessboard

Somalia’s internal tensions are unfolding within a highly competitive geopolitical environment.

Regional and global actors — including Gulf states, neighboring countries, and Western powers — maintain strategic interests in Somalia’s ports, security structures, and political alignments.

Kismayo is not merely a city. It is a strategic gateway. Any attempt to seize it by force risks drawing in external interests, directly or indirectly.

Meanwhile, destabilizing Southwest State could weaken ongoing operations against Al-Shabaab, creating dangerous openings for militant resurgence.

What begins as a domestic power struggle could quickly evolve into a broader regional crisis.

A Familiar Warning

Somalia has seen this pattern before. Political tensions escalate. Institutions weaken. Alliances fracture. And disputes that could have been resolved through dialogue are instead fought through force. The country’s limited but meaningful progress over the past decade has depended on one fragile principle: that power is negotiated, not imposed. Abandon that principle, and the system begins to unravel.

Somalia now stands at a decisive crossroads. With the presidential term nearing its end, federal relations collapsing, and territorial cohesion already compromised, the choices made in the coming week will determine whether the country moves toward dialogue or confrontation, unity or fragmentation. There is still time to de-escalate. Still a path to restore trust and re-anchor governance in consultation and constitutional order.

But that window is narrowing rapidly. Because once political disputes turn into military campaigns, they take on a momentum of their own — one that leaders rarely control, and citizens always pay for.

This is no longer just about Baidoa or Kismayo. It is about whether Somalia remains a state — or continues to fragment into competing centers of power, bound not by law, but by force.

Abdullahi A. Nor
Email: abdulahinor231@gmail.com