South West Crisis Deepens as President Hassan’s Lone-Wolf Gambit Threatens Somalia’s Fragile Federalism

South West Crisis Deepens as President Hassan’s Lone-Wolf Gambit Threatens Somalia’s Fragile Federalism

Dr. Mohamed Mursal Sheikh Abdirahman
The former Speaker of the House of the People

The crisis unfolding in South West State has become a stark defining moment for Somalia’s fragile federal experiment, a test of whether the country can survive when political legitimacy and security are at risk. What began as a dispute over constitutional timelines has now spiraled into a dangerous escalation—one that threatens not just South West State’s stability but the very fabric of Somalia’s federal order.

At the heart of this crisis is President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, a figure increasingly seen as a lone wolf in Somali politics—one who, despite mounting opposition and eroding alliances, has chosen to push forward with force, sidelining dialogue and constitutional order when he has 49 days left before the expiration of his mandate.

The immediate trigger for the crisis was the controversial extension of President Abdi Aziz Laftagareen’s mandate last year, backed by Hassan Sheikh Mohamud. This move wasn’t isolated; similar extensions were also imposed on the presidents of Galmudug and Hirshabelle Federal Member States. Critics swiftly denounced the extensions, arguing they lacked legal legitimacy and were imposed without political consensus.

Opposition leaders, civil society groups, and regional politicians framed these extensions as a reckless gambit—a dangerous precedent that could unravel Somalia’s already fragile federal structure.

“You cannot build a federal system on selective legality,” a political analyst in Baidoa warned last year. “If mandates can be extended without consensus, then elections lose all meaning.”

In the wake of this backlash, President Laftagareen, unlike his counterparts in Galmudug and Hirshabelle, took a bold step. He severed ties with the Federal Government of Somalia and declared his intent to hold presidential elections in line with the Provisional Federal Constitution (PFCS) and SWS Conistitution the lates on March 29, 2026. He announced that the elections would be open to all contenders, signaling an effort to reclaim legitimacy. It was a bold move, positioning South West State as a potential alternative to federal overreach. I hope President Hassan knows that he has no role in the election of SWS FMS as per Art,120 of FPCS which reads – Institutions of the Federal Member States. The establishment of the legislative and executive bodies of government of the Federal Member States is a matter for the constitutions of the Federal Member States.

But this is more than a regional dispute; it is a symbol of a wider fracture in Somalia’s federal architecture. The rift between the Federal Government and several member states is deepening, fueled by a range of contentious issues: constitutional amendments pushed by Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, disputes over the electoral model, and bitter rows over resource sharing and security arrangements.

Earlier, South West, Galmudug, and Hirshabelle have increasingly aligned with Mogadishu, while other states—like Puntland and Jubaland—have resisted, calling out what they see as heavy-handed federalism. But the stakes go beyond political rivalry. Hassan Sheikh Mohamud’s leadership style—once lauded for pragmatism—now risks isolating him. His strategy of sidelining dialogue in favor of a force-based response is drawing comparisons to past failures. In Jubaland, a similar military push ended in disaster. Federal forces sent to Ras Kamboni were annihilated in a single day of fighting, a debacle that still echoes through political discussions. Now, many fear this same pattern is repeating—where military force becomes the President’s last recourse, even as he risks his own political survival.

In this growing confrontation, the biggest casualty may be public trust. Ordinary citizens, already burdened by displacement, limited services, and economic instability, now watch as political ambitions and military maneuvers threaten to upend any hope of stability. For many in South West State, this is no abstract political struggle; it is a matter of survival, as they navigate a reality where governance is weak and violence is close at hand.

Critics say Hassan Sheikh Mohamud is increasingly acting as a lone wolf—isolated from traditional power brokers, abandoned by former allies, and unwilling to engage in meaningful political compromise. Once celebrated as a unifier in Somali politics, his current approach risks alienating even those who once stood firmly by his side.

Opposition figures and segments of the public have gone further, mocking what they describe as a shrinking inner circle—now reduced, they claim, to a handful of political allies who coincidentally share the same first name: Ali Wajis, Ali Mohamed Geedi, Ali Guudlaawe, Ali Balcad, and Ali Abdullahi Osoble.

Adding to the uncertainty, there are growing rumors that Mayor Mungab may be considering leaving the party in the coming days.

Moreover, the reliance on federal forces and mercenaries—allegedly recruited from South West State—has added a chilling dimension to the standoff. Reports suggest that these fighters, motivated by a few favors or promised perks, are being deployed against their own communities. It is a betrayal that echoes through Baidoa and beyond.

Even now, as Hassan Sheikh Mohamud’s once-powerful Justice and Solidarity Party (JSP) hemorrhages support—with senior figures abandoning it in droves—the cracks are becoming impossible to ignore. The resignation of Cabdiraxmaan Odowaa, following his dispute with the President, marked a significant moment, seen by observers as the latest high-profile defection from a party in decline “ this resignation seen by observers as the latest high-profile defection from a party in decline—freeing himself from what critics describe as the grip of a megalomaniac president.”   .

Yet despite this erosion of political backing, the President appears to be doubling down on a militarized approach to control. As the JSP weakens, critics argue, his reliance on force is becoming more pronounced—echoing tactics previously deployed, and failed, in Jubaland.

The battle at Ras Kamboni—where federal forces suffered a swift and decisive defeat in a single day—remains a stark warning. For many analysts, it stands as a cautionary tale of what can happen when political crises are met with military solutions. Now, there is growing concern that repeating this approach could lead to an even greater catastrophe.

The consequences of this militarized approach are not just theoretical. They are already being felt by ordinary Somalis in South West State, a region already teetering on the edge. Al-Shabaab still controls vast rural hinterlands, and despite repeated military operations and foreign support from the African Union Transition Mission in Somalia (ATMIS) and U.S. air operations, governance remains elusive. Rural roads remain impassable, trade is disrupted, and the state’s writ barely extends beyond the capital, Baidoa.

“The President’s military gambit is a dangerous gamble,” a senior security official told me last year. “You cannot speak of legitimacy, O/P/0 elections, or reforms when large swaths of the country are under insurgent control.” The irony, he adds, is that the federal forces, stretched thin and reliant on external support, are being drawn away from their core mission—fighting the insurgency.

In the vacuum left by this crisis, citizens pay the price. South West State remains one of the most vulnerable parts of Somalia—with high levels of displacement, inadequate infrastructure, and limited humanitarian access. Every day, residents in Baidoa and nearby towns endure the fallout—schools closing, markets stagnating, and families losing hope.

“Politics is taking priority over people,” a civil society activist told me. “While politicians fight, the people are left with nothing.”

The political landscape is fracturing, and South West State stands as a microcosm of the nation’s wider struggle. Opposition groups reject the legitimacy of the current Federal leadership, while the federal government clings to its hold, deepening mistrust.

The pattern is familiar: weak institutions, personality-driven politics, and fragile trust. South West, in its turmoil, is a warning—a microcosm of what happens when a lone wolf leader disregards constitutional order and risks everything on force. If the President persists down this path, the cost may not just be political—it may be existential for Somalia’s federal project.

According to multiple sources, President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud has distributed sophisticated weapons—donated by Egypt to support the federal army’s fight against Al-Shabaab expansion—to militias recruited from South West State and based in Burhakaba District. These fighters— are now being armed and deployed against their own people, risking turning a political rift into a humanitarian catastrophe. This weapon transfer, meant for countering terrorism, is now feared to be a catalyst for a massacre. The silence from the international community is deafening. After years of pouring billions into Somalia—building a fragile state from the rubble of civil war, famine, and insurgency—the world seems content to watch as this fragile equilibrium collapses. If Hassan Sheikh Mohamud — whose mandate is to expire in 49 days – tries to use force to entrench his power, Somalia risks a descent into bloodshed that will haunt the nation for decades.

The international community, once hopeful about Somalia’s recovery, now appears to be watching in silence as the risk of mass atrocities looms—threatening a population already weakened by two years of severe famine. The U.S.-trained Commandos Danab and the Turkish-trained Gorgor Units are reportedly at the forefront of operations in South West State. Critics argue that deploying such elite forces in this context, against already vulnerable communities, raises serious moral and legal concerns.

At the same time, the continued silence from both the United States and Turkey—countries that trained and supported these units—is increasingly being viewed by most observers as a profound failure of responsibility. Hassan Sheikh Mohamud governed with strategic focus from the outset of his current term, he could have consolidated and expanded upon the security and institutional gains made under his predecessor, Mohamed Abdullahi Mohamed. Instead, they contend, his administration has been marked by missed opportunities and controversial policy choices that have deepened public disillusionment.

Among the most serious allegations raised by detractors are claims of entrenched nepotism, the large-scale sale of public land, which have contributed to 760,000 internal displacements. Critics further point to the erosion of specialized security units developed by his predecessor President Mohamed Abdullahi, arguing that poorly coordinated military operations against Al-Shabaab crushed elite forces and, in many instances, resulted in heavy losses and the capture of military equipment.

These concerns have fueled increasingly sharp calls for accountability. Record political voices argue that the scale of alleged mismanagement and corruption warrants formal investigation, including scrutiny of personnel financial accounts at the highest levels of government and his cohorts. They frame this not only as a matter of justice, but as a precedent-setting moment—one that could shape standards of accountability for future Somali leadership.

These claims are increasingly presented by their proponents not as partisan rhetoric, but as grounded realities backed by patterns observed on the ground. They reflect a widening and deeply rooted frustration among segments of the public and political class, who believe Somalia is once again at risk of squandering hard-won gains amid intensifying governance failures and institutional decline.

The brutal irony is that, as the federal government mobilizes force, the very army meant to fight terrorism is being diverted. Al-Shabaab remains entrenched in rural South West, controlling key hinterlands, launching attacks in urban centers, and disrupting everyday life. Yet instead of stabilizing the situation, Hassan’s strategy risks igniting a new cycle of violence—one in which political opponents, armed with advanced weapons never intended for them, risk becoming instruments of carnage.

A number of influential political figures are playing a pivotal role in escalating tensions behind the scenes, particularly through the mobilization and recruitment of local militias. It is also noted in many social media outlets that they have paid around three million Dollars to Al Shabab to allow them to use the road between Bur Hakaba and Baydhabo. Among those frequently cited is the Minister of Ports, widely known as Jama, Minister of Livestock Mr. Hassan Elaay and Adan Mohamed Nur Madobe, the Speaker of Parliament.

More critically, these individuals are believed beyond any doubt that they are the key drivers behind the organization and arming of militia groups, a development that risks transforming a political dispute into a broader security crisis. Observers warn that such actions, and the 49 days left from the mandate of the megalomaniac president, if sustained, could deepen divisions, complicate reconciliation efforts, and further destabilize an already volatile region.

It is a widely held view across Southwest State that these three political figures have effectively forfeited any meaningful political future in the region. Among large segments of the population, they are openly regarded as having betrayed local interests, a perception that has deeply eroded their credibility and standing. As a result, their prospects of returning to the region—let alone assuming public office—are widely seen as virtually nonexistent.

This sentiment is not confined to political circles alone; it is echoed by community leaders and ordinary citizens alike, reflecting a broader loss of trust that is difficult to reverse in a political environment where loyalty to regional interests remains a defining expectation. In short, they are labeled as traitors which is a stain they will live with in the rest of their lives.

 Dr. Mohamed Mursal Sheikh Abdirahman
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Dr.  Mursal is the former Speaker of the House of the People, and also a former ambassador and minister, holding a PhD in constitutional studies and a Master’s degree in law.