Two Cheers For Somaliland

E. M. Forster wrote, “So Two cheers for Democracy: one because it admits variety and two because it permits criticism.” By this criterion, Democracy is rampant in Somaliland!

As Lewis has recently observed in The Guardian, “with virtually no external help [Somaliland Republic] has built itself up by a remarkable series of internal peace agreements and democratic consolidation to its current situation as a functioning democracy.”

Casting this same thought in our Somali context, I say again, Two cheers for Somaliland: one because it has convincingly eschewed and has escaped from the endless and the senseless death and destruction, from the Evil and the Chaos and the Cruelty that runs riot, that runs rife, that runs rampant in the rest of erstwhile Somalia save that entity that now calls itself Puntland that still hankers after and sighs for that now impossible perfidious Darod daydream that her sons will one day, once again, run and rule and ruin Hargaysa and Mogadishu as they had done once upon a time when they had managed to foist that cruel fantasy, that fool’s errand that had fooled us all, that hoax, that wild goose chase that goosed us all Somalis, that pitiful pipedream, that pie in the sky, that one sweet day all the five Somali partitions—Hargaysa, Mogadishu, Djibouti, Ogaden, NFD will join together as brothers and sisters in solidarity, in the unity of the Somali Spirit in the bond of peace and in the Greatest Somalia under a wise, selfless Somali, patriotic and loyal leadership.

As we all so sadly know now that Never-never land was never to be.

The people of Somaliland have escaped from the fate of that morgue called Mogadishu because they had the sense, the sanity, the sobriety, the sagacity, the serenity to sit together as brothers and sisters, to reason together as brothers and sisters under the shady Tree of Wise Counsel and learn and listen to their Elders who had told them, “Come. There is a way to be good again”; that “The only truth is goodness . . . Nobody wins with Evil or anger”; that Nobody wins with violence and with “ Force [that always] shites upon Reason’s Back.”

Hargaysa and her citizens said with one sane sound voice of solid solidarity “Fool us once, shame on you; fool us twice, shame on us!”

They have reverted to what they once were before we Southerners had taken them in by betraying them and by betraying the sacred trust they once had had in that noble vision of Greatest Somalia. They reverted to what they once were before we Southerners had taken them for a long, genocidal, lamentable, reckless rude, rough ride, before they had fallen for our Southern trick, for our Southern tripe, for our Southern trap—they have reverted to being what they were— Somaliland, without the British this time round.

Voluntarily, freely, by her own free and informed will, Hargaysa had once cast her lot with Mogadishu; now once again, voluntarily, freely and by her own informed and democratic will, Hargaysa has decided to sail solo, to decouple, to divorce, to secede from her erstwhile union with now Mad Mindless Morgue Mogadishu.

Any fugly fool who argufies that Hargaysa cannot do that, cannot secede—well, tell that jinni jerk to jump in the Juba River and drink it dry.

Knowing Somalis, there are such jinni jerks galore that love to argue with what is so obvious, with what is so apodictic.

Why should the same Somali blue flag with the five-pointed star (each point representing the five colonial partitions of the Somali people) fly and flutter proudly over Hargaysa—the same flag of Perfidy, of Genocide, of Dishonor, of Deceit, of Disgrace, the filthiest rag of a flag in the world, that was stamped on the wings of the MiGs that rained ruin, death, destruction, disaster, on the defenseless folks of Hargaysa.

Afweyne who attempted such a contemptible genocide of the Issaq couldn’t have been happier as Hargaysa and her citizens lay dying, bleeding, prostrate, pitiful, burning—“Far from feeling any remorse, President Barre was beside himself with joy at his ‘triumph’. According to one former Somali official who paid a visit: I have never seen Barre so relaxed and happy throughout my long association with him. He did not look like a President who had just destroyed his second capital, causing so much suffering and anguish. He simply saw himself as a Darod . . . chief who had totally annihilated an enemy clan.”

As a matter of fact, Lewis wryly observes that the worst excess of this “Daarood tyranny of Mohamed Siyaad Barre” was the attempted genocide of the Isaaq clan-family whose traditional tribal turf—Somaliland—Afwayne wanted to hand over in toto to the Ogaadeen, his maternal uncles, cousins and agnates: “Ogaadeeni refugees were at the same time encouraged to take over Isaaq shops and houses in what, after their bombardment by Siyaad’s forces, were effectively ghost towns. Thus, those who had been earlier received as refugee guests in northern Somaliland had supplanted their Isaaq hosts, and many of the latter, in this bitterest ironic turn of fate, had become refugees in the Ogadeen.”

No wonder now Somalilanders had seceded from our once solemn and sacred Somali Union and now taunt us Southerners as faqash: pigs and contemptible clowns and collaborators and coons and quislings of that Darod foolish fiend, Afwayne.

Nevertheless, I am content to cast this caveat, to bear witness to the fact that a fellow Abgal pilot had flown his MiG and her bombs or ordinance away from Hargaysa into the sea by Djibouti. Furthermore, I am also content to cast another caveat, to bear witness to another fact: to the chagrin and to the consternation and to the apoplexy of the Darod Dictator, Afweyne, my Abgal clan chanted defiantly to his face:

Dalakaaga Daafac didimayno!
Idoar ku duul donimayno!

We don’t refuse to defend notre patrie!
But we most definitely don’t want to raid and rout the Issaq!

Never ever again will the writ of another goddamn Darod Doddering Despot and his Myrmidons, like Morgan, the butcher of Hargaysa, or like Gani, the Marehan gung-ho goon, hold sway in Somaliland!

This I am most certain despite the daydreaming of the punks of Puntland!

My second cheer for Somaliland is that because her citizens had done what seems impossible in the realm of African politics: when the majority of Somaliland—Issaq—couldn’t agree among themselves on which of their subclans ought the President come from, they were wise enough to select, to elect a non-Issaq to rule them rather than hack each other to death as the hopeless, hapless, Hutu Hawiye Helots from whom I unfortunately hail had done and are doing right now as I write this.

Tacitly, implicitly, the world already recognizes Somaliland as a nation and as a country and as a Republic that is civilized, sane, and peaceful. The whole world is stunned by what Somaliland had already done, not once but thrice: electing freely and fairly three different Presidents peacefully: Egal, Royal Riyale, and now Silanyo!

Lewis has concluded his Guardian article thus “It’s time now to learn from Somaliland’s success and see how to emulate it.”

I am sure that the people to whom Mogadishu really belongs are going to heed his advice and rid themselves of what he had once famously referred to as “ Habar Gidir invaders” and their useless idiots.

Archimedes once famously said, “Give me a place to stand, and I will move the Earth.” Now that Somalilanders have a Democratic place to stand, Somaliland Republic, I am sure that they will soon move the whole civilized world to reward them with a well-deserved, explicit and an unequivocal outright recognition. Somalilanders have already moved the world toward that direction by making peace and by maintaining Hargaysa as a haven of Peace in the horror-hacked Horn of Africa.

Peace, the most priceless blessing, that few folks in Africa are lucky enough to possess.

Truth has come; falsehood, fatude and Afweyne and his merciless, mirthless M. O. D have fled! Afwayne’s terrible M. O. D. Troika: (M)arehan (O)gaden (D)hulbahante: the tyranny of Afwayne and his despicable Darod MAD M. O. D. : the primitive and savage tribal troika, the modus operandi of Afwayne, that had once tyrannized and terrorized both Mogadishu and Hargaysa for

over two decades is now no more.

MOD: “M stands for the patrilineage (Marehan) of the Brute; O for that of his mother’s and this means the Ogaden people who live in the critically sensitive Ogaden border region of Ethiopia; and D for the Dulbahante, ‘literally he who conquered all the lands’; the lineage of his son-in-law,” aptly dubbed, Dafle, the snatcher, the head of the dreaded NSS [Nasty Sickie Snatchers]: Afwayne’s storm troopers.

“The implications were succinctly expressed in a popular explanatory verbal formula: The Marehan are drunk on power; the Dulbahante are drunk on pride; the Ogaden are drunk on powdered milk. The Powdered milk donated by international aid signifies the fact the Ogaden were mostly refugees from Ethiopia; Somalia was not even their country.”

Truth has come; falsehood has fled with Afweyne and his MOD!
Somaliland has dawned!
Long live Somaliland!
…. Mohamud Siad Togane


1. with virtually no external help [Somaliland Republic] has. . . See:

2. Come. There is a way to be good again. Page 202 of The Kite Runner, by Khaled Husseini.

3. The only truth is goodness . . . Nobody wins with Evil or anger. See

3. Force shites upon Reason’s Back. See page 9 of The American Reader: Words That Moved a Nation, edited by Diane Ravitch.

4. Far from feeling any remorse, President Barre was beside himself with joy at his ‘triumph’. . . See

5. Faqash: a Somali onomatopoeic word meaning the disgusting sound a pig makes as it wallows in its muddy oozy filth.

6. Daarood tyranny of Mohamed Siyaad Barre. . . See page 177 Lewis’s Blood & Bone: The Call of Kinship in Somali Society. Lawrenceville, N.J.: The Red Sea Press, 1994).

7. Ogaadeeni refugees were at the same time encouraged to take over Isaaq shops and houses. . .Ibid. page 226.

8. Habar Gidir invaders. . . Ibid. page 228.
9. M stands for the patrilineage (Marehan) . . . Ibid. page 165.
10. The implications were succinctly expressed in a popular explanatory verbal formula . . . Ibid. page 165.
11. Fatude: (Somali) “sincere delusions–that is, lies which the liar believes.” See page 235 of John Berryman. Recovery. New York: Farar, Straus and Giroux, 1973. A chip-on-the-shoulder delusional attitude informed by ignorance and arrogance. A Somali word meaning an attitude
struck and stuck in the high lazy latitudes of the doldrums of the doo-doos of self-deception. Fatude is a child “of an idle brain, / Begot of nothing but vain fantasy…” See Romeo & Juliet. 1. iv. 97-98. It is a typical Somali Mugdi Mudug attitude of bullshit and bluster. The English tongue has borrowed many a word from the Somali tongue, such as yahoo, nag, ninny, seal, was, goose, fug, etc. I predict the English language will soon appropriate fatude. It is just a matter of time before it too begins to roll off the English tongue just like yahoo. See “A Short lesson In Comparative Languages”, p. 5 of M. S. Togane. The Bottle & The Bushman: Poems of The Prodigal Son. Ste-Anne de Bellevue (Québec): The Muses’ Company, 1986. Fatude aptly describes the common Somali affliction of disconnection from reality. It also means a rude, crude attitude based on farce and according to Alfred Kazin, “Farce is catastrophe without a context and without a solution.” A perfect description & definition of the Somali syndrome and the malady of Mogadishu. See page 95 of Alfred Kazin. God & the American Writer. New York: Alfred A Knopf, 1997.

Dr. H.Abdillahi