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Daily Maverick
27-06-2025
- Politics
- Daily Maverick
African Union and international community complicit in the Somali catastrophe
Alan Paton's classic South African novel, Cry, the Beloved Country, exposed how tyranny produced injustices and social rot in that beautiful and blessed land: South Africa. We may not agree with Paton's diagnosis of the malady, but most will acknowledge the power of his insights and the humanity of his vision. A similar colonial plague gripped another beautiful people and land: Somalia. With independence, Somalis partially recovered from colonialism, but a sectarian faction of the political elite has imposed a worse tragedy on them, while the international community and the African Union (AU) wittingly participate as the calamity deepens. If one were to write a novel about the Somali disaster, it would be: Weep, My Beloved Country. Recuperating from the colonial calamity Before colonialism butchered the territory, Somaliland's area was slightly smaller than contemporary South Africa. The imperialists divided it into five colonial territories: British Somaliland, Italian Somaliland, French Somaliland, Ethiopian Somaliland and the Northern Frontier District of the British colony of Kenya. Somalis partially recovered from that catastrophe when the British and Italian Somali lands were liberated and united to form Somalia in 1960. The hope at independence was that the remaining territories would become liberated and join the fold, but that was not to be. French Somaliland became the Republic of Djibouti after it gained freedom in 1977, while the other two regions remain in Ethiopia and Kenya. Somalia started its post-colonial period with verve and promise. It was the lone country in Africa where the entire population shared a single language, faith and culture. The curse of a sectarian elite For most of the 1960s, Somalia was the premier democratic state on the African continent. Somalis' cultural homogeneity facilitated their attachment to democracy. But the drive to nurture a genuine representative government was led by a Somali group whose lives were deeply marred by colonial humiliation and who aspired to create a system that would nurture their people's hopes and dignity. In contrast, another faction of the political elite, driven by greed and lust for power, sought to capture the state for its egotistical ends. The democrats accountably managed the state from 1960-1967. President Aden Abdulla Osman honoured his oath of office and told MPs who would decide his presidency's fate in 1967 to vote according to their conscience. In contrast, the opposition candidate deployed corrupt means, such as cash bribes to MPs, and won the presidency. Once in power, the sectarians expeditiously consolidated their grip on the state by posting their clients in the cabinet, the civil service and the supreme court. Subsequently, they set their sights on the forthcoming parliamentary election. The sectarians' core strategy to win the election was tribal mobilisation of the population and the use of bribes. Consequently, the prime minister invited all the 'traditional' leaders to Mogadishu, treated them handsomely, and sought their help to ensure that each genealogical group voted as a unit in support of the regime. The governing party won the 1969 election, but the corrupt use of government resources during the election was so scandalous that the International Monetary Fund registered its alarm. Political tribalism stoked communal conflicts during the election. Shortly thereafter, a policeman who felt that his 'group' had been cheated of its parliamentary seat assassinated the Somali president in 1969. This precipitated a military coup. The junta's progressive-sounding declarations temporarily rejuvenated the national spirit, but like so many military regimes, despotism became the norm. As a teenager, I spent four months in prison for criticising the regime. The dictatorship became more violent, corrupt and tribalistic in the late 1970s and the 1980s. In response, opponents replicated its tribalist ideology to mobilise supporters. As the regime's viciousness intensified, a rebel group made a daring raid on the second-largest city from their base in Ethiopia, and the military's savage revenge annihilated the city. Mayhem spread across the country, the dictator was chased out of Mogadishu in 1991, the government collapsed, and the country disintegrated. Tribalised government, the international community & the AU Tribal warlords and tyrants ravaged Somalia in the 1990s and early 2000s. Then, the government of Djibouti brought Somalis together to find a trail back to civilisation. After months of haggling, the conferees defined Somalia's political conflict as 'tribal' and divided Somalis into 'political tribes'. In 2001, they formed a government anchored on this vile formula. That regime languished for several years until Muslim clerics (the Union of Islamic Courts, UICs) defeated the warlords in 2006. This development alarmed Ethiopia and major international actors. Subsequently, Ethiopia invaded Somalia and committed atrocities. The UICs went underground and outmanoeuvred the Ethiopians. Alarmed by this turn of events, the international community and AU hastily created an AU military force to replace the Ethiopians. The AU force pushed Al-Shabaab out of Mogadishu and several towns, but has made no further progress. The international community has since poured billions of dollars into the AU force and Somali government coffers, but the latter has made marginal advances in winning public trust. Dominated by tribalists, the central and provincial governments are often at odds with one another, which impedes national recovery and integration. Crocodile tears The international community and AU profusely complain about the inability of Somalis to make measurable progress to secure their country, settle their political discord, create a credible government and improve the lives of their indigent people. These are disingenuous grumblings. First, the international community has been a key partner to the Somali peace process for at least 25 years and has uncritically accepted the misguided notion that Somalia's political conflict is tribal in nature. Thus, they knowingly endorsed the empowerment of the most corrupt and sectarian elements of the elite. Second, the AU has been the foot soldier of funders and has never objected to political tribalism and corruption. Given this, the international community/AU's remonstrations lack moral force. As a Somali MP, I have witnessed the destructive role of political tribalism in government: omnipresent corruption, glaring ineptitude and criminal instigation of communal conflicts. Civic kinship is salvation Half a century of cruel dictatorship, warlords, tyrants, and corrupt political tribalists have buried Somalis in a wasteland. To undo this hell will take time, serious commitment, resources, and most critically, civic kinship from the international community and AU. Somalis are fast learners and exceptional entrepreneurs in the right environment. To create such an environment demands that the international community/AU completely alter their approach. First, they must revamp their conception of the nature of the catastrophe by rejecting political tribalism. Second, they should sanction the purveyors of political tribalism and corruption, as this clique has wasted millions of lives and the future of an entire people. Third, they must insist on the formation of a technocratic government with a terminal four-year tenure whose scope is limited to establishing a professional army and police, the scaffolding of a civic government and a functioning set of critical government ministries. Unfortunately, this transformative agenda, which most Somalis would endorse, would not appeal to the international community/AU as it would terminate the lucrative gravy train.
TimesLIVE
25-06-2025
- Business
- TimesLIVE
No country for hustlers: why unleashing the informal sector is South Africa's missing revolution
In the bustling, chaotic heart of any South African township, rural and small town, and city centre, one can witness a vibrant ecosystem of survival. Much like the resilient characters navigating their destinies in Alan Paton's Cry, the Beloved Country — where individuals grapple with a society undergoing profound change — South Africa's informal economy is a testament to human ingenuity and perseverance. Yet, as Prof Haroon Bhorat articulated in a June 17 Business Day article, our national obsession with formalisation is stifling this vital sector, turning a potential economic powerhouse into a mere shadow of its true capacity...
Spectator
11-06-2025
- Spectator
The lure of St James's
Procrastination may be the thief of time, but in the right circumstances, it can be fun. The other day, I was enjoying myself in St James's, my favourite London arrondissement. There are delightful contrasts, from the grandeur of the royal palaces and the St James's Street clubs to the charming, intimate side streets and alleys with their pubs and restaurants. The late Jacob Rothschild would often cross from his palatial office in Spencer House to Crown Passage, in order to lunch at Il Vicolo (regularly praised here). His Lordship never bothered to reserve a table. Instead, he would send someone across with his form of booking: a bottle of Château Lafite. Crown Passage is also home to the Red Lion, one of the oldest hostelries in London. It has excellent beer, no music and no teenagers. One grows curmudgeonly with age. Though I never thought of Alan Clark as a pub habitué, he did visit the Red Lion, where he was indeed an egregious figure – to employ correctly just about the most misused adjective in current English. But he always seemed to enjoy himself: a change from Brooks's, perhaps. St James's is also full of art galleries and someone then said that there was an interesting exhibition round the corner in Mason's Yard. We went and were not disappointed. Harry Moore-Gwyn specialises in British art from the late 19th century onwards. His current offerings are all easily worth a visit. There are renowned names: Gwen John, Walter Sickert, Charles Rennie Mackintosh et al. But there were other figures whom I had never come across (so much the worse for me) such as Herbert Dalziel. However, I was particularly interested in Harry's Roger Frys. Fry, though no genius, was a serious painter who ought to be re-evaluated. Harry's walls offer much to enjoy, much to think about, much to covet, and after those pleasures, you are no distance from food and drink. Later on, our conversation moved on to another art form: winemaking. A friend had just come back from South Africa and was able to bring some good news from that benighted land. Since the passing of the old regime, the wine industry has flourished. Foreign markets are much easier, and there has been a lot of investment. It remains to be seen whether all this will continue to flourish as so much of that potentially glorious country succumbs to chaos. His Lordship would send someone across with his form of booking: a bottle of Château Lafite We heard one depressing non-economic story. Alan Paton's Cry, the Beloved Country is much the finest literary work to come from South Africa. Everyone ought to read it. But a (white) youngster, educated at a good South African private school, had never even heard of it. Cry, indeed. South Africa has produced fine wine for centuries. But today the vineyards have spread outwards from the Stellenbosch region, especially to Swartland, which I have never visited. I am told that the winemakers are optimistic. Theirs is, of course, an optimistic profession. But let us hope they are right. The theme broadened to wine and war. During both world wars the French made remarkable quantities of wine, some of it excellent. Then again, for the poilus, wine was the equivalent of grog for the Royal Navy. If wine had not been available, the mutinies would have been much worse. Even so, miracles were achieved. I remember Alan Clark – no pub that day – treating David Owen and me to a bottle of 1916 La Mission Haut-Brion (in the Diaries, he says 'Latour' but I trust my own memory). Those grapes were ripening during the Somme. The grapes of wrath can produce great wine.
