By Dayib Sh. Ahmed

It was inevitable that Hassan Sheikh Mohamud would eventually come to this point. Shortly after his constitutional changes began taking full shape, I wrote a column titled “A Warlord in Disguise: A Critical Analysis of the Second Term of Hassan Sheikh Mohamoud.” More than two years later, I look back at that analysis and ask how much of what I predicted proved to be correct? My argument was centered on one of the most consequential failures of Hassan’s second term, his handling of the relationship between the Federal Government and the Federal Member States. He has also failed to advance national reconciliation among the Somali people or to build strong and effective government institutions.

Instead, his administration has pursued the centralization of political power in Mogadishu, undermining the autonomy of the Federal Member States and weakening the federal system he once claimed to support. The consequences were predictable. A government that substitutes confrontation for consensus, centralization for federalism, and political maneuvering for constitutional restraint will inevitably create friction with the people. What we see today is not the product of a single political dispute but the consequence of a political trajectory that has steadily weakened trust in Somalia’s federal system.

Moreover, Hassan’s recent one-sided visit to Galkayo reflects his worlodism and raises serious questions about his judgment. His entourage also did not show the political consensus inherent in the federal constitution. Both the ministers of security and interior were absent from his entourage, despite their regional backgrounds. Although, keep in mind, both of them are widely regarded as inept and sycophantic. Yet this was presented as a national delegation. Even the Vice President of Galmudug was not included. More importantly, he did not visit Abudwaaq or any of the other cities, despite them being part of Galmudug State. All these raise a fundamental question Was this truly a national delegation, or a clan-based one?

Furthermore, Hassan had an opportunity to build consensus and strengthen national institutions. Instead, his approach has increasingly been defined by centralization, confrontation, and the pursuit of political control. More than two years on, the question is no longer whether the warning was justified, but how far has Hassan traveled down the road I warned about and how close is he now to a political dead end? The path he has chosen, marked by authoritarianism, confrontation, and the erosion of governance, is increasingly leading him toward a dead end.

First, Hassan Sheikh’s constitutional term expired on May 15, 2026. Yet, despite the expiration of his constitutional mandate, he has continued to exercise presidential authority, raising serious questions about constitutional legitimacy, the rule of law, and the limits of executive power. A constitutional government cannot function upon the personal whims of a politician. Once a constitutional mandate expires, a country must have a clear and lawful mechanism for transition through a defined electoral timeline. The Hassan administration, however, has failed to establish such a constitutionally legitimate pathway. This creates a dangerous vacuum in which political power can be exercised without a clear constitutional mandate, while authority depends on political coersion rather than the rule of law.

Somalia’s history offers a painful warning: the concentration of power and the rejection of lawful political mechanisms were the foremost conditions that contributed to the state’s collapse and civil war in 1991. The lesson should be unmistakable: when constitutional legitimacy is weakened and political authority becomes detached from the law, the state itself becomes vulnerable. Somalia cannot afford to repeat the mistakes that paved the road of self-destruction after a military junta suspended the Constitution.

Second, Hassan Sheikh Mohamud has severely weakened the separation of powers, particularly the independence of the legislative branch. Under his leadership, Parliament has increasingly appeared less like an independent institution exercising constitutional oversight and more like a political instrument serving the interests of the President. Unfortunately, Hassan has found what he was looking for in the former Speaker of Parliament, Adan Mohamed Nur Madobe, who was among the warlords of the RRA and SRRC during the period of Somalia’s state collapse. Moreover, Hassan later handpicked Madobe, then Speaker of Parliament, as the proxy leader of South West State. He has since become one of the most controversial figures in Somalia’s modern political history, particularly amid allegations of corruption, political manipulation, and the abuse of institutional authority. Furthermore, Hassan has now brought another controversial figure into a position of immense political importance: Abdulkadir Mohamed Nur, whose selection as Speaker of the Somali Parliament was, in my view, so politically predetermined that it is difficult to describe it as a genuine election.

His elevation has generated serious controversy. According to a former Western intelligence official, who spoke to me on condition of anonymity because of the sensitivity of the matter, Abdulkadir was allegedly connected to Turkish intelligence and was brought into the position with Turkish backing. The same source further alleged that, before traveling to Turkey in 2012, Abdulkadir had previously been a member of Al-Shabaab and was associated with its Amniyat, the organization’s intelligence and security wing, which has been linked to assassinations and bomb attacks. The source also alleged that Abdulkadir was involved in the killing of Abdulle Deerow Isak, a former Speaker of the Somali Parliament in 2000. These are extremely serious allegations, and if substantiated, they would raise profound questions about his background, his political rise, and the circumstances surrounding his selection as Speaker. More fundamentally, the issue goes beyond one individual. If Parliament cannot independently scrutinize the government, question its decisions, and hold the executive accountable, then Somalia’s constitutional system becomes little more than a façade. The principle of separation of powers and institutional checks and balances is being hollowed out, while political loyalty, patronage, and personal interests increasingly replace institutional responsibility. When the President effectively controls the legislature, constitutional government begins to give way to Villa Somalia’s dominance and that is precisely the danger Somalia ultimately face today.

Third, he has taken for himself the powers of the Prime Minister and combined them with his own. He has reduced the Prime Minister’s office to a position in which its current holder cannot add anything, reject anything, or exercise any meaningful power of his own. He has failed to understand that there is a purpose behind dividing power: to prevent one person from monopolizing the government and controlling all political power. Unfortunately, the man who currently holds the position of Prime Minister has, by his own conduct, become nothing more than irrelevant.

Fourth, the regional states are under attack and have become a mess. The deterioration of relations between Somalia’s Federal Government and the Federal Member States under President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud represents a structural crisis in the country’s post-conflict political architecture. Rather than institutionalizing a cooperative framework of federal governance, executive overreach and coercive interventions from Mogadishu have systematically fractured regional stability, turning federalism into an arena for political dominance. The crisis has been visible in Puntland and Jubaland, where Hassan has maintained a persistent political confrontation since the beginning of his term. He supported the 2023 conflict in Bosaso, the fighting in Garowe in June 2023, and the clashes in Galkayo in August 2026. He even stated While speaking at a mosque in Villa Somalia that Puntland would collapse within 24 days. In Jubaland, he launched an attack, most notably in Ras Kamboni engagement of December 2024 and Gedo region in July 2025. Unfortunately, Somali soldiers crossed the border while retreating from Ras Kamboni, which was a shameful episode.

In the South West State, the political crisis surrounding Abdiasis Hassan Mohamed Laftagareen who remained in office for four years without a renewed mandate revealed the transactional nature of his relationship with Hassan Sheikh Mohamud. When Laftagareen served Hassan’s political interests, he enjoyed his support; when he was no longer politically useful, Hassan turned against him by removing him from office. The subsequent military intervention in Baidoa further demonstrated Mogadishu’s coercive approach toward regional authority.

Meanwhile, the Galmudug election proved to be more deeply controversial because of the allegations surrounding the final results and the court ruling, which critics argue was influenced by Hassan’s political calculations. Hassan reportedly wanted Libaan Shulaq for the position, but Libaan rejected some of the things Hassan wanted, including what was reportedly an attempt to create unrest in Galkayo between the Galmudug and Puntland communities. These communities are brothers and sisters, and there is no justification for destruction between them; what they need is peace, development, and cooperation. Libaan’s refusal to follow that political direction appears to have created a serious disagreement.

This raises an important question. Why has the court chosen this particular moment to intervene in Galmudug when it has not previously exercised the same authority over electoral disputes in South West? If the court’s intervention is genuinely based on constitutional and legal principles, then the same standards should apply consistently South West, regardless of political interests. Otherwise, the selective use of judicial authority shows that the court is not genuinely acting independently; it suggests that there is something behind this move. Think about that: the courts are being used as instruments of political power rather than as independent guardians of the Constitution.

Hirshabelle, meanwhile, is deeply divided. Beledweyne and Jowhar have been politically separated, and after more than four years of Hassan’s administration, little has been achieved in terms of institutional and infrastructure development or meaningful reconciliation between the two communities. One cannot ignore the irony that these communities are connected to Hassan’s patrilineal and matrilineal lineages.

Then there is Somaliland. Somaliland has moved further away from Somalia’s political framework, particularly after Israel’s recognition. Hassan’s government has failed to mount a coherent national response to what amounts to a glaring attack on national integrity by a foreign government. To many Somalis, this is an extraordinarily serious failure of national responsibility that some even describe as a betrayal of the national interest.

After years in office, one must ask: what has this administration actually done to build trust, reconciliation, and cooperation among Somalia’s regions and communities? More broadly, these episodes have continued to expose the fragility of Somalia’s federal arrangements. Through military pressure, executive overreach, and transactional politics, the administration has weakened the constitutional foundations of federalism and replaced political negotiation with coercion. Consequently, instead of fostering national reconciliation and institutional trust, these interventions have deepened mistrust between the center and the regions, leaving Somalia’s federal system increasingly fragmented, unstable, and vulnerable to further conflict.

Conclusion: A Tragic Political Destination?

Hassan Sheikh entered Somalia’s political arena with a powerful and hopeful slogan: “A Somalia at peace with itself and at peace with the world.” He became the first Somali president to be elected twice through the country’s parliamentary process, rising from a modest background to the highest office in the land. At seventy years of age, however, the question is what legacy he will leave behind. And that is where the tragedy lies. He had an extraordinary opportunity to become a historic figure in Somalia’s political history as a leader who could have reconciled a divided nation, strengthened constitutional institutions, consolidated federalism, and restored public confidence in government. He could have built a legacy remembered for generations. Think about that.

Instead, Hassan’s presidency has been defined by confrontation, political patronage, institutional weakness, and strained relations between Mogadishu and the Federal Member States. The very institutions that should constrain political power have increasingly appeared vulnerable to political influence, while national reconciliation has remained elusive. The result is a political system in which mistrust has deepened and the constitutional foundations of federalism have become increasingly fragile.

This is what makes the conclusion so painful. If Hassan had used his two terms to leave behind a functioning constitutional order, he could have been remembered as a national statesman and a historic leader. His name could have been associated with reconciliation, institution-building, and national renewal. Places could have been named in his honor, and generations could have spoken of his presidency with pride.

But political power is transient. Legacy is permanent. A president may control institutions for a time, but history ultimately judges what he did with that power. Hassan Sheikh entered the political arena promising a Somalia at peace with itself and at peace with the world. Somalia is not at peace with itself, nor is it at peace with the world. What a profoundly unfortunate end it would be if his presidency instead became remembered for deepening political divisions, weakening institutions, and taking Somalia toward the very constitutional dead end that he once had the opportunity to prevent. What a sad end.

Dayib Sh. Ahmed
Email: Dayib0658@gmail.com
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Dayib is a writer, political analyst and WardheerNews contributor