By Jamal Mohamoud
The recent arrest of members of the Somali Custodial Corps who fled from the frontlines in Lower Shabelle is not merely a disciplinary incident. It is a damning indictment of a crumbling security strategy and a reflection of the Somali Federal Government’s increasingly desperate and chaotic military posture.
As the war against Al-Shabaab grinds on, Somalia’s national army is becoming a shadow of the force it once aspired to be, and the Federal Government’s capacity to lead is now in serious question.
A Misused and Abandoned Force
General Mahad Abdirahman Adan, commander of the Custodial Corps, confirmed that his officers—whose primary function is managing prisons and correctional facilities—were pulled into a combat role far beyond their training or mandate. These men were thrust into an active war zone without adequate weapons, intelligence, or logistical support. Faced with overwhelming enemy fire and no means of resistance, they did what any rational human being would do in a hopeless situation: they ran.
But instead of being debriefed, rehabilitated, or re-evaluated, these men were arrested and imprisoned by their own government—a move that speaks volumes about the Federal Government’s inability to acknowledge its failures or protect its personnel. It was not cowardice that led these troops to flee. It was neglect, misuse, and abandonment.
The Collapse of Professional Military Structure
What happened in Lower Shabelle is not an isolated failure—it is symptomatic of a broader collapse within Somalia’s defense infrastructure. The Somali National Army (SNA), once the symbol of national resilience and sovereignty, is faltering under the weight of persistent war, rampant corruption, and gross political interference.
For years, the SNA has fought Al-Shabaab on multiple fronts, often with inadequate resources and inconsistent international support. But what truly corrodes its foundation is internal rot. Military promotions are often granted based on clan affiliation or political loyalty rather than competence or service. Troops go unpaid for months, leading to defections and low morale. Procurement processes are opaque and riddled with corruption. Soldiers have been known to sell their ammunition and rations just to survive.
This institutional decay has left the SNA overstretched and underpowered. The government’s answer has been to conscript anyone available—police officers, clan militias, even prison guards—into a war that requires skill, discipline, and coordination. In doing so, it has not only diluted the professionalism of the security forces but also exposed civilians to the horrors of frontline combat.
A War Effort Driven by Desperation
The current approach to the war effort reveals a government running out of options. Instead of a structured military campaign, we see a piecemeal strategy reliant on rotating ill-equipped and untrained units to plug holes in the frontline. Rather than investing in long-term training, infrastructure, and morale, the government has embraced a “tactical triage”—sending bodies to the battlefield in the hope of slowing the enemy’s advance.
Clan militias, which were initially seen as community-based defense groups, are now being positioned as central combat units. Their knowledge of local terrain is useful, but they lack the hierarchy, discipline, and accountability of formal national forces. Their inclusion highlights the central government’s inability to field a coherent, unified military front. It is not integration—it is improvisation born out of desperation.
The police, meanwhile, are being pulled from urban security duties and placed into offensive roles they were never trained to perform. This redeployment weakens domestic stability while exposing the police to unnecessary casualties and burnout. The Custodial Corps’ collapse is simply the most visible example of a nationwide crisis that is worsening by the day.
Political Sabotage from Within
These failures in the field are mirrored by deep dysfunction at the political level. President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud’s unilateral decision to draft and push through a new constitution without consulting Somalia’s Federal Member States (FMS) has alienated vital regional allies. Puntland and Jubaland have formally severed ties with the Federal Government in protest—citing constitutional violations, exclusion from decision-making, and the president’s increasingly autocratic posture.
This political rupture has paralyzed coordination between Mogadishu and the regions—at a time when unity is essential for both governance and security. The war against Al-Shabaab cannot be won with fragmented leadership. The FMS control key territories and command large regional forces. When they are excluded or antagonized, the national war effort suffers.
The Federal Government’s refusal to engage in meaningful dialogue has not only deepened mistrust—it has also left the central administration dangerously isolated. What should be a coalition effort to defeat a common enemy has devolved into a political standoff. And in that vacuum, Al-Shabaab grows stronger.
A Government in Denial
Despite mounting setbacks, the Federal Government remains in denial. Instead of addressing the structural flaws that are undermining the war effort, it chooses to scapegoat frontline soldiers and celebrate superficial victories. There is no accountability at the top. No serious introspection. No national reckoning with the reality on the ground.
This leadership vacuum is perhaps the gravest threat of all. Somalia’s future depends not just on defeating Al-Shabaab, but on restoring integrity to its institutions—especially the military. Yet the current trajectory suggests otherwise. The ongoing marginalization of qualified officers, politicization of security appointments, and exclusion of FMS partners from national decisions are accelerating the country’s slide toward state failure.
What’s at Stake
Somalia is not just losing battles. It is losing credibility. It is losing cohesion. And it is losing time.
The image of untrained custodial officers fleeing from an Al-Shabaab onslaught will remain etched in the national psyche—not as a symbol of cowardice, but as a reflection of how far the country’s institutions have fallen. If this government cannot build and protect its own army, how can it claim to defend the Somali people?
Unless bold reforms are initiated—prioritizing professionalism, decentralizing command, eradicating corruption, and rebuilding trust with Federal Member States—Somalia’s war against Al-Shabaab may become unwinnable. And worse, the very survival of the Somali state may hang in the balance.
The clock is ticking. Somalia cannot afford a government more concerned with consolidating power than defending the republic. For if the current path continues, Al-Shabaab will not need to win this war—the Federal Government will have lost it for them.
Jamal Mohamoud
Email: Jmohamoud702@gmail.com
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