Somalia: The “Wrecked Watermelon”

In the language of international diplomacy, Somalia is currently divided along three territorial zones: Somaliland, Puntland, and South-Central Somalia. Although the international community’s approach toward state-formation processes in Somalia has always been problematic, the Somalis themselves should be blamed for much of the current stalemate that is obstructing the constitution of a functioning nation-state. The United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) expressed the complexity of Somalia in the 1990s: “[w]hen mentioning Somalia, it is difficult to know who exactly we are talking about” (UNDP 1998:1). This reflects the empirical fact of clan-based states within the failed “federal” state in Somalia: (1) Somaliland claims independence, (2) Puntland insists semi-independence, (3) Jubbaland enjoys autonomous authority, (4) Southwest seeks autonomy, while (5) Galmudug and (6) Hirshabelle were dependent on the patronage of the previous regime interests in Mogadishu which represented the economic control of an authoritarian state power. This article encompasses a combination of theoretical and empirical contributions to an examination of these paradoxes. It does not purport to explain why the fragmentation of the Somali nation-state was possible or even why it continues to persist, but it draws attention to an often-overlooked historical and contemporary discursive scholarship justifying and legitimizing the notion of each clan having a state of its own.

While closely considering the case of the post-state collapse clan-states in southern Somalia, this article is also concerned with mapping Somaliland, not because it still is legally party of the Somali State, but because it has been striving with no avail for international recognition since 1991. It is thus the only entity to date seeking an official divorce (as an independent state) from the rest of Somalia, in contrast with Puntland which appears to entertain the idea of following Somaliland’s example sooner or later (Hesse 2010a), and taking into account the new emerging state structures in southern Somalia.^{Footnote 3} Official titles such as the “The Republic of Somaliland” and “The Puntland State of Somalia” emphasize the variance between the two entities. Menkhaus (2016:163) has aptly pointed out that Somaliland and Puntland are “functional failed states,” whereas southern Somalia is a “dysfunctional failed state.” However, Somaliland is both interesting and unique; interesting because it is qualitatively different from other post-state collapse clan-states due to structural considerations, and unique because of clan considerations that will be explained below. Fieldwork for this article was carried out in South-Central Somalia (May–September 2015 and April–July 2016), Somaliland (July–August 2016) and an earlier investigative trip to Puntland in December 2001. Unlike the case in South Sudan, where foreign scholars learn the language and spend years conducting research in conflict-ridden zones (e.g., Stringham & Forney Reference Stringham and Forney2017), most of those studying Somalia write from the comfort zones of the Ivory Tower in the West, or spend a few months in Kenya when they could not spend a few hours in the Mogadishu airport. This article draws information both from the public and the political power holders.

With the demise of the unitary nation-state in Somalia following the collapse of the Somali State, Somali nationalism mediated and maintained by democratic state structures eventually led to the brutal and barbarous patterns of Siad Barre’s military dictatorship, which culminated in the creation of many Somalias rather than one Somalia, an astounding case of collapse in comparison to all other African state collapses. Somalia today, as previously during the military reign, remains the only place in the world where the concept of the nation-state proved unworkable, to such an extent that the term “Somalia” is now irrelevant in Somali discussions. In other words, there is no longer one unified Somalia, but rather numerous new Somalias that have emerged and gained ground, with some appearing to be more successful than others. Somalia as Siad Barre’s ghost appears as an aberration and an anomaly to outside observers, baffling and puzzling political scientists and pundits alike, such as anthropologists, ethnologists, ethnographers, and ethnohistorians (Ingiriis Reference Ingiriis2016d:74). How can unity be created when unity itself is considered a danger, both internal and external? Put another way, what kind of a future is possible when the Somalis have no unified state to shield them from the dangers of globalization and regional threats? In other words, how can Somalis survive without a unified—not necessarily centralized (but sharing many other commonalities)—state in the twenty-first century? How is it possible that a country characterized as the most promising democratic and developmental state on the African continent in the 1960s suddenly sank into full-blown dictatorship (1969), disorder (1977), and disarray (1990), and now appears as qare qarxay (wrecked watermelon), to use a Somali metaphor for something that no one could ever restore (Ingiriis Reference Ingiriis2016a)? What would nationalism in this context offer, other than fattening a small clique of elites from one single clan to suck the marrow from a partially profitable nation-state?

The “Burned Land”: The Pre-Colonial Clan Republics

The emergence of clan-states in contemporary Somalia is not a new phenomenon in Somali history. Against the Western models of the nation-state, it is assumed erroneously that pre-colonial Somalis were a “stateless society,” which overlooks that the pre-colonial Somali world abounded with clan republics with rules but without rulers. The clan-based republics in the Somali world observed by European explorers and ethnographers under colonial and pre-colonial dominions did not follow the Weberian model of the nation-state defined by territory (Baldacci Reference Baldacci1909; Burton Reference Burton1856; Christopher 1844; Colucci Reference Colucci1924; Cruttenden 1844–46, 1849; Guillain 1856–1857; James Reference James1888; Miles 1872; Robecchi-Brichetti Reference Robecchi-Brichetti1899; Révoil Reference Révoil1882; Swayne Reference Swayne1900; Walsh Reference Walsh1910). From the perspective of the colonial explorers, there were no internationally acceptable states, no recognized national administration exercising real power authority, no formal countrywide legal and judiciary system, no national banking and insurance services, no national telephone and postal systems, no national public services, no national formal educational and health systems, no national police and public security, and no water services. Yet, Somalis survived and thrived, using their own socio-political systems and state structures (Ahad Reference Ahad2014; Djama Reference Djama1997; Marlowe Reference Marlowe1963). During the pre-colonial and most of the colonial period, the Somali lands around the coastal zones in the North were known as “Guban,” roughly translated as the Burned Land. Before colonial intrusion, the Somali country (or, more aptly, countries) was divided into clan-based zones, whose existence was conventionally accepted. Each clan recognized the others living in nearby zones, even if water, land, pasture, camels, and women were fiercely contested. The contemporary coastal capital Mogadishu alone had two sultans at this particular time and was compartmentalized into two sections: Shingaani and Hamarweyne (Alpers Reference Alpers1983:442). This was when the French explorer Charles Guillain visited the Sultan of Geledi, and the British intelligence agent Richard Burton went to Haji Sharmarke Ali Saleh, the leader of the Seylac (Zeila) coastal fiefdom, to gather vital information for potential imperial European powers (Burton Reference Burton1856; Guillain 1856–1857). Several other explorers also observed clan-states in other Somali zones, discovering customs, cultures, and traditions to pave the way for a future colonial statebuilding enterprise (Colucci Reference Colucci1924; Cruttenden 1844–46, 1849; James Reference James1888; Miles 1872; Robecchi-Brichetti Reference Robecchi-Brichetti1899; Révoil Reference Révoil1882).

With the advent of colonialism in the early 1880s, the Somali zones in the Horn of Africa were carved out by colonial regimes into five territories: British Somaliland in the North, Somalia Italiana in the South, a Somali-occupied northeastern province of Kenya (the Northern Frontier District [NFD]), La Côte Française des Somalis (the French Somali Coast, or—in the language of the colonial state—the territory of Afar and Issa, later renamed Djibouti), and the Somali-populated eastern Ethiopia (Cassanelli Reference Cassanelli1982; Cerulli Reference Cerulli1957; Mohamed Reference Mohamed1992; Vigner Reference Vigner and Adam1980). Two out of the five became independent in July 1960. No one expected then that the formation of the new republic formed out of the merger between British Somaliland and the UN Trust Territory of Somalia (the former Somalia Italiana) would end up a failed post-colonial statebuilding experiment (Ingiriis Reference Ingiriis2016a). Where the colonial regimes carved the Somali zones up into five lands, the Somalis in Somalia alone have currently divided themselves into five states: alphabetically, the Galmudug State, the Hirshabelle State, the Jubbaland State, the Puntland State, and the Southwest State. There are also ongoing active efforts within Somaliland to create (at certain levels violently) five clan-states: the Awdal State, the Khaatumo State, the Zeila/Lughaya State, the Maakhir State, and the Beesha Dhexe (Central Clan) State. That this trend was a reversion to the pre-colonial period was evidenced by the way those clan-states were reconfigured. If the state collapse in Somalia had not been unique in terms of clan composition, one group would have been able to take over the country completely, rather than the actual result of each clan having its own fiefdom as a clan-state.^{Footnote 4} Every clan-state president in the present-day Somali world has his own sycophants, not so dissimilar from the nineteenth-century Burtonian clan chiefs in the Somali lands, each having a poet-panegyric for the clan-state (Burton Reference Burton1856). This confirms the report received by a British colonial officer from an African auxiliary: “Somalis, Bwana, they no good; each man his own sultan” (quoted Ingiriis Reference Ingiriis2010:3; Laitin Reference Laitin1977:30). It is the same way in contemporary Somalia, when every clan is selecting its own self-styled president, creating a situation of each sub-clan equalling one state system. The nineteenth-century poem: Baardheere waa beled Ujuuraan (Baardheere is a town of the Ujuuraan [clan]) was intended to emphasize that Baardheere belonged to the Ajuuraan, although they were by then largely banished from that town.

The proliferation of clan-states in the former Somalia Italiana was politicized and legitimized, but the conditions of the division were created by the pre-colonial nature of Somali clans, where each clan was concentrated in its own territory. Contemporarily—as it had been in the pre-colonial period—Somalia is fragmented into clan fiefdoms, languishing the same way as it had been before European colonialism. The “each clan his own sultan” phenomenon has now devolved into each clan having its own state. The former British Somaliland has renounced the 1960 union with Somalia, declaring the Republic of Somaliland in the North, based mainly on the Isaaq clan interests. Within the former Somalia Italiana, the old Majeerteeniya—or Migiurtinia—in the Northeast renamed itself Puntland, maintaining undeclared secession from the rest to advance the Mohamoud Saleebaan/Majeerteen clan interests. One wonders where the terms such as Majeerteeniya or Ogaadeenya came from. When explorers and ethnographers were surveying the Somalis, they would ask the local Somalis to identify themselves; some would say Somalis, others Mohammedan (meaning the nation of Muhammad, the Prophet of Islam, peace be upon him), while others would stick to their clan identity. No wonder that new terms indicating that Somalis are no longer related to each other as one nation are now repeated in the public discourse. Very often one hears from the Somali television networks and other Somali-written mass media “dadka Af-Soomaaliga ku hadla” (the Somali-speaking peoples) as though Somalis are like unrelated French-speaking or English-speaking peoples in the Caribbean countries or on the African continent.

The contemporary clan-states are frequently referred to in the academic and popular literature as the “Somali territories” as though they are stateless, similar to the Palestinian territories. New discourses have come to the fore to justify claims for autonomy or even independence by clan-states. Most of the clans that dominate the clan-states consider themselves not just states but also “nations,” a point and phenomenon unnoticed in the existing scholarship on the mini-states (e.g., Dill Reference Dill, Weller and Nobbs2010; Doornbos Reference Doornbos, Konings, Binsbergen and Hesseling2000; Johnson & Smaker Reference Johnson and Smaker2014). Not necessarily a war discourse, the word “Somalia” is heavily contested by some Somalis who consider it to be a term depicting a clan connotation. According to this contention, Somalia was named after the Samaale clan, comprising the Hawiye, the Isaaq, and the Dir, together known as the Irir Samaale (the Daarood are not included in the Samaale as some scholars assumed). A newly adopted concept suggests there are two contrasting languages: Maay and Maxaa Tiri. Luling (2002) found that “Somalis are separated by inherited grudges, differences in ways of life, differences of speech, and by the divergent legal structures left behind by two different colonial regimes.” It would be a difficult road for Somalis to eliminate or overcome the politicized colonial and clan narratives (Ingiriis Reference Ingiriis2016c).

The Post-Colonial Period and the Clan-State

When the Somali Republic was formed in July 1960 with the merger of the northern and southern Somali territories, it seemed unlikely that several decades later the nation-state would dissolve into competing clan-states. Between 1963 and 1968, when the republic enthusiastically supported military campaigns in the NFD in Kenya, Ethiopia, and, to some extent, Djibouti, the post-colonial Somali leadership had no way of predicting that somewhat similar secessionism would have to be dealt with in Somalia in 1991. The Somali saying, “waxbadso wax beel ayay leedahay” (the consequence of collecting more earnings will be insolvency) is aptly fit for the Somali disintegration and dissolution. Closer analysis of poetic nationalist sentiments from the time of independence can help us understand the present Somali circumstances by superimposing contemporary politics on post-colonial politics. The former chant “qarannimiyo sharafkaan qurgooyada u hurayoo, naf iyo maalba u quuree” (for the statehood and the dignity with whom I had sacrificed for my death, I reserved no life and death) can be rephrased, in consideration of the current reality, as “for the clan and the clan-state with whom I had sacrificed for my death, I reserved no life and wealth.” One of the most powerful nationalist songs by Muse Ismail Qalinle, released on Radio Mogadishu in the 1960s with a powerfully patriotic chorus, offers a revealing picture of how contemporary Somalia is strikingly different from the one of the independence era:

This song is a compelling reminder of where Somalia once came from, to arrive at today’s dire state of collapse. Emphasizing the land communicated a clear message stemming from the yearning for the Greater Somalia (the idea of the pan-Somali state in the Horn of Africa); regaining all the other “missing” Somali-inhabited lands under non-Somali rule in the Horn was an obligation invested in the post-colonial leaders. Although the song indicated a unified nation-state intent on merging with other Somali lands, it did not forewarn that such quest would end up with conflict and collapse, culminating in the current reality in contemporary Somalia against the background of clan-states.^{Footnote 6} Closer examination of the song points up the poignant reality that the search for pan-Somali unity led not to a unified country but rather to an aggregation of (sub-)clan states. Indeed, strong nationalistic sentiments paved the way for clan nationalism. An excerpt from one contemporary praise song for the smallest of the clan-states is instructive as to how the wider Somali nationalism has led to clan nationalism: “danta gobolka xeeriya / xoojiya midnimadiisa” (ensure the interest of the region / reinforce its unity alone).^{Footnote 7} This song was clearly contrary to a vivid nationalistic song by Ahmed Naaji Sa’ad in the early 1960s: “Shanta in la is dhex keeno ayaa inoo qornayd” (restoring all the five Somali lands was our written code).^{Footnote 8} The Somali poet Ali Sugulle “Dun-Arbeed” once chanted in a powerfully notable poem stating “dab iyo dhagax la iskuma dhuftee, kala dhowraay” (never hit a stone on fire, watch out and separate each other). This occurs when a unified nation-state is contrasted with the formation of a clan-state.

Re-Ordering the Pre-Colonial Order

In 1991, the Isaaq, along with representatives from other clans, declared the Somaliland State in Bur’o, the second largest town in the North. Many of the non-Isaaq clans later retracted their consent to the secession, claiming they were forced by the Isaaq to sign the secession declaration. As has been noted in the introduction and will be further examined below, the Somaliland State seeks recognition as a separate state from Somalia. In 1995, the Digil/Mirifle (mainly the Rahanweyn) sought to establish an autonomous federal state in the Bay and Bakool regions. This experiment failed when a section of the Rahanweyn community persuaded the then most powerful Somali factional leader General Mohamed Farah Aideed of the Somali National Alliance (SNA) to intervene in Baydhabo politics and seize the town (Ingiriis Reference Ingiriis2016a). In 1998, the Puntland State was declared in Garoowe with the purpose of bargaining a larger share in the future Somali State. In 2013, Jubbaland State was established with the rejection of the federal government in Mogadishu. Within two years, the Mogadishu regime formed for its benefit two states—the Galmudug State and the Hirshabelle State—in Adaado and Jowhar, respectively. The push for a new clan-state for the Benaadir State has recently accelerated with the emergence of a new president on February 8, 2017, who was considered an outsider in Banaadir.^{Footnote 9} Besides the calls to set up a Benaadir State for Mogadishu, the clanization of the Somali State is now largely complete. Each state adopted praising songs encouraging imitation among each other, such as “ku dayo Puntland” (take Puntland as a good example) or “ma ogtahay, Galmudugeey” (O Galmudug, are you aware of?).^{Footnote 10} From Puntland to Hirshabelle, the formation of clan-based fiefdoms has been facilitated by Ethiopia, Somalia’s historical nemesis. When the federal government attempted to block the creation of Jubbaland, all concerned parties were called to Addis Ababa for mediation.^{Footnote 11} Some of these states, like Galmudug, have dared to negotiate security arrangements with such powerful external actors as the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO).^{Footnote 12}

The post-state collapse Somalia bears some responsibility for the current situation, due to the way it nurtured the divisive clan system and created fissures in the Somali State. The legacy of the Siad Barre regime is “a war-torn patchwork of fiefdoms controlled by clan chiefs” (Huband Reference Huband1992), culminating in the emergence of the current federal structure without a negotiated formula, or what can be called “the virus of federalism,” in southern Somalia. Contemporary Somalis appear to be confused by clan-states based on clan domination, as other Somalis from other neighboring clan-states are regarded as a foreigners or—if their Somaliness is acknowledged—as “refugees.” This was evidenced by the Puntland treatment of the Rahanweyn communities in Boosaaso and Garoowe (Horseed Media 2010). The Rahanweyn case shows that, while some clans opened their clan zones to fellow Somalis, some others refused to receive their fellows. This shows that federalism—at least the way it is now constituted in Somalia—is a system of close-knit political structures inimical to centralized governance. The other risk stemming from the proliferation of clan-states is the attempt to produce textbooks brimmed with mythico-historical tales. In Nigeria, Nolte (2002) observed how federalism based on ethnicity, tribe, or clan spells danger for divided communities. As Kimenyi et al. (2010:1361) observed: “The standard federalist model may not be well suited for Somalia. Given the expressed desire of autonomy by the different factions, it is unlikely that a federal system would adequately accommodate the interests of the various factions.”^{Footnote 13}

The international community has decided to rebuild the collapsed Somali State from the foundations of the clan-states. The international community is adamant in advocating separation—clan-states—as a solution to the Somali syndrome, while at the same time attempting to support the feeble and flimsy federal government in Mogadishu. The only alternative strategy for the international community is to either side with the Mogadishu government or with the clan-states. If they, for example, were to publicly declare that they would directly contact the government and negotiate with Mogadishu, this would send a clear message to those encumbering a reconstitution of the unitary Somali State as it was before the military regime of 1969. But, conversely, the decentralization and local governance structures consisting of clan-states that are being implemented in southern Somalia, which are praised by the international community, have led to further fragmentation, as evidenced in the recent armed confrontations between Galmudug and Puntland as well as the serious clashes within the sub-states.^{Footnote 14} Dire predictions did not come to pass in the satellite state nature of the clan-state slogans manipulated by Kenya or Ethiopia. One female Somali relief worker stated that “many Somalis do not know where the story that says each clan has its own state would lead us.”^{Footnote 15}

Even if they could agree to either coalesce in reinstating the nation-state or to depart forever by sticking to their own independent clan-states, the Somalis could hardly do either without the permission of external forces. Whichever route they choose, they will not be able to prevail alone. If the external forces are not provided with some latitude to engage with local Somali politics, Somalis will not be able to find a solution to this conundrum. The external forces have formed and framed their conflicting agendas in several ways. Ethiopia and Kenya have promoted the federal Somalia plan, and most certainly this meant diluted clanization of the Somali State and society, further institutionalizing fragmentation by creating a space where each clan could proclaim its own state for its own benefit. Recalling the past land-related conflicts with Somalia, the neighboring countries prefer a Somalia ruled by warring clans rather than one Somalia ruled by even moderate Islamists. Ethiopia appears to assume the role of “quasi-protectorate” (Mayall 2007:3) of the clan-states. Some regional Arab and African states, like Djibouti, Egypt, and the Sudan, have been determined to see a reunited Somalia with a powerful centralized state. The Western states appear unwilling to back up any system that is contrary to the Western ideals of democracy. Balancing these contrasting interests requires a tactical and calculated plan on the part of the Somali government. Any attempt at resurrecting or reconstituting the Somali State back into the global fold as a unitary entity will at the end of the day look to the past for lessons that can be helpful for the present political realities that are dividing the Somalis into dozens of clan fiefdoms. It is thus high time for the Somalis to come up with a concrete, coherent, and clear policy regarding Somali lands to mediate between the centralists and the federalists in the Somali political spectrum, but also within the clan-states.

Redrawing of Colonial or Clan Boundaries?

This section brings to light some of the challenging political crises which the clan-based state formations have generated. Of all the post-state collapse states, the most interesting is Somaliland, the break-away northwest region that seeks independence from the rest of Somalia (Hesse 2010a, Reference Hesse2010b; Huliaras 2002; International Crisis Group 2006). Despite much wider state legitimacy than other Somali states, Somaliland is increasingly challenged by Puntland, the neighboring semi-autonomous clan-state, which is still theoretically part of Somalia. Puntland pursues a decentralized state format for the collapsed Somalia, but claims the ownership of eastern parts of Somaliland inhabited by the Dhulbahante and the Warsangeli clans who are genealogically affiliated with the Majeerteen clan, the predominant clan in Puntland, by way of Harti genealogical ancestry. The critical question revolves around whether the border between Somaliland and Puntland remains a colonial border or can be reconfigured into a clan border, basically which one will have the legal basis—the “territorial logic” or the “genealogical logic” (Hoehne 2015:21). The Somaliland authorities claim ownership of the British Somaliland borders and argue for the preservation of the colonial border line demarcation, but—from a paradoxical clan pattern—this is heavily contested by Puntland authorities who have insisted, over the years, on the traditional pre-colonial Harti clan boundary.^{Footnote 16} Somaliland and Puntland are contesting border areas populated by the Dhulbahante and the Warsangeli clans. From a colonial border demarcation, they are part of Somaliland, but from clan logic they are part of Puntland because of the Harti clan genealogy with which they share the Majeerteen, the dominant clan in Puntland.

Each of the other emerging clan-states in Somaliland is competing for recognition from the government in Mogadishu. Khaatumo was declared in the diaspora to represent the Dhulbahante interests, whereas the Warsangeli diaspora announced the formation of Maakhir, another mini-state, aimed to represent the interests of the people of the Sanaag region.^{Footnote 17} However, Khaatumo, which was hostile to both Somaliland and Puntland, has ongoing negotiations with Somaliland authorities. While their claim does not account for the fact that Somaliland was initially formed in the clan conference at Bur’o, the fact that it lobbied for redrawing their border back to the colonial border is not just a colonial nostalgia, but a way of retaining a separate state entity. The formation of Puntland as a clan-state was itself a copycat project from Somaliland as far as its constitution is a document extracted from the latter, except that it permits the existence of “federal” Somalia, given that Somaliland had declared a complete divorce from Somalia (cf. The Republic of Somaliland 1996; The Charter of Puntland State of Somalia, 1998). The Puntland Constitution is a paradox in that it stipulates that “Puntland is an independent integral part of Somalia,” carrying out everything that the federal government in Mogadishu was previously tasked with. Ironically, the Puntland constitution provides (unwittingly?) a space in which statelessness could emerge (Hesse Reference Hesse2010b). Puntland emerged out from the building block approach originally proposed by Ethiopia for southern Somalia in the mid-1990s (Bryden Reference Bryden1999; Bøås Reference Bøås2010; Bøås & Rotwitt Reference Bøås and Rotwitt2010). Many Somalis believe that this approach was aimed at checking the attempt of the Hawiye clan-group leaders to gain control of state resources over which they have fought for many years.^{Footnote 18}

Puntland is a rather fragile clan-state in contrast with Somaliland, but nonetheless less fragile than other clan-states in southern Somalia.^{Footnote 19} The presence of irregular insurgency around the Galgala area, part of which claims to have links with insurgency movements like al-Shabaab and the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS), makes Puntland more prone to instability. However, the limits and limitations of the peace approach were confirmed by the fact that Puntland has contested borders with other bordering neighboring clan-states, like Galmudug. The relationship Somaliland had to have with Puntland makes it susceptible to armed conflict, leading to regular tension with border clans like the Dhulbahante.^{Footnote 20} It also negates the possibility or prospects for Somaliland to re-unite with southern Somalia. In other words, the fragmentation of southern Somalia into clan-states further erodes the prospect for Somaliland to re-join Somalia as one single unified Somali State.^{Footnote 21} Somaliland can hardly be considered a continuation of Somali clan politics by any means other than a colonial question spurned for secession by the legacy of the military regime. The observation is that people in Somaliland may live without Somalia, but people in Puntland cannot, due to the latter’s past patrimonial affiliation with successive post-colonial Somali governments. This explains why one entity insists on secession, while the other prefers to remain as an autonomous state. Some observers seem to suggest that Puntland should follow Somaliland’s route, basically to secede from Somalia by creating a separate state (Johnson & Smaker Reference Johnson and Smaker2014; Ingiriis Reference Ingiriis2016d), but they appear to ignore the ambitions of the Puntland political players which are, inter alia, to use the entity to rule the whole of southern Somalia and control state resources from the capital Mogadishu. As such, the concern of Puntland is more about politics and resources than about secession. Article 48 of the Puntland Constitution clearly articulates that concern:

1. 1. Puntland natural resources belong to Puntland people and can be exploited in conformity with the Law.

2. 2. The Puntland State is responsible for the protection and exploitations of the natural resources.

3. 3. The Puntland State may make agreements with national or foreign companies and give them the exploitation of natural resources.

4. 4. The concession shall be approved by the House of Representatives and cannot last for more than twenty-five (25) years (Constitution of the Regional Puntland State of Somalia 2007–2008).

Supplementary Material

To view supplementary material for this article, please visit https://doi.org/10.1017/asr.2017.144