Hijackers Insisting ‘We’re Not Pirates’ After Capturing Chinese Vessel Near Somali Coast

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Mogadishu, Somalia – In a twist of fate that reads more like a movie script than a real-life incident, fishing off the northeast coast of Somalia became a nerve-wracking tale for Liban Hassan* when he exchanged his net for a rifle. Having spent most of his 32 years amidst the waves near Eyl in Northeastern State, he turned hijacker last year, commandeering a Chinese fishing vessel and holding its crew captive.

After an intense seven-week standoff, the drama finally came to a peaceful end with the crew emerging unharmed. The Chinese embassy didn’t mince words, slamming the act as a menace to sailor safety and a threat to international navigation.

This brazen seizure, however, opened a can of worms about the frustrations boiling over in coastal Somali towns. With foreign trawlers swooping in and depleting the marine life locals depend on, the disenchanted youth, convinced they’re justified in hijacking these vessels, are voicing their despair.

“We’re not pirates; we’re cornered,” Liban declared over a phone chat with Al Jazeera, his voice echoing with the weight of a besieged community. In his view, foreign ships are committing theft in broad daylight, robbing them of their fishing heritage.

In semi-autonomous Northeastern State’s coastal towns, opinions vary. While some empathize with the hardships foreign trawlers impose, others are adamant: piracy can’t be the answer.

“These trawlers strip us bare,” Liban lamented, highlighting the stark visual of ships looming close to Eyl’s shores while the locals watch helplessly as their waters become barren and polluted.

The sands of Northeastern State have borne the scars of illegal fishing ever since Somalia’s government crumbled in 1991. In its absence, foreign ships filled the void, and Somali piracy, a by-product of this chaos, gained notoriety.

The subsequent intervention by international naval forces such as the European Union’s Operation Atalanta from 2008 onwards curbed piracy by fortifying Somali waters. But pirates’ retreat left another problem festering: a surge in foreign vessels exploiting the nation’s resources unchecked.

By November, tensions in Northeastern State’s coastal towns had reached a fever pitch over these intrusive trawlers. Liban recalled a wave of anger and frustration spreading from Garacad to Aluula, prompting them into action.

“We knew it was time,” he reflected, detailing the pre-hijack surveillance of the Chinese trawler that was practically waving a red flag by fishing just two miles off Garmaal’s coast—flouting Somali law that bars trawlers within 24 nautical miles of the shore.

On a fateful November morning, Liban and his group boarded the vessel. Their superior numbers made the two armed guards surrender instantly, handing over weapons and the crew’s fate to the hijackers.

What followed was a textbook standoff. EUNAVFOR Atalanta swung into action, liaising with Chinese and Somali authorities, and reiterated the crew’s safety while keeping a close watch on the situation.

During the ordeal, Liban assured Al Jazeera that the crew was treated well. Despite considerations for a ransom brokered by local elders on behalf of businessmen, the hijackers stubbornly held on until a negotiation spearheaded by influential parties reached a consensus in Falfalah, finally liberating the vessel and crew.

While some community members feel a sense of cathartic outrage at the hijackers’ defiance, not everyone shares this view. Mohamud Khalid Hassan, an elder from Eyl, voiced what many think. “These actions only deepen the chasm with foreign powers and embolden piracy further.”

Yet, Liban feels differently, tied to the sea both by tradition and necessity. “We are driven to this; we have no choice,” he insisted with fervor. “Without it, it feels like we’re imprisoned in our own land.”

Indeed, it’s a tangled web where legality clashes with survival. Some residents suspect that the root cause isn’t foreign crews but closer to home—local officials allegedly pocketing profits for backdoor deals, allowing trawlers to continue unchecked.

It’s a dire situation that echoes much further than the shores of Somalia, casting ripples that threaten to disrupt the social fabric of the nation. But as debates rage over right and wrong, the community remains at a crossroads: caught between the rock of survival and the hard place of prosecution.

Report By Axadle

*Names have been changed at their request to maintain anonymity.

Edited by: Ali Musa

alimusa@axadletimes.com

Axadle international–Monitoring