Somalia’s Parliament Approves Long-Awaited Human Rights Commission, Signaling a New Chapter for Accountability
Mogadishu — Somalia’s Federal Parliament on Saturday approved the country’s first independent Human Rights Commission, a long-promised institution meant to investigate abuses, advise government, and help align the nation’s laws with international standards after decades of conflict and fragile governance.
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The vote, taken in a packed session chaired by the Speaker, passed overwhelmingly: 142 lawmakers voted in favor, one abstained, and none opposed. Family Affairs Minister Khadija Mohamed Al Makhzoumi, who presented the motion, called it “a pivotal moment” and told lawmakers the step had been anticipated by international partners and Somali rights advocates alike. “This decision confirms Somalia’s determination to build institutions that safeguard the dignity and rights of every citizen,” she said after the vote.
Why this matters now
Somalia’s provisional constitution has for years promised an independent human rights body—an anchor for accountability in a country still wrestling with insurgent violence, clan-based politics, and the grinding social impacts of drought and displacement. The commission is envisioned as a watchdog that can investigate alleged abuses, monitor the state’s obligations under treaties, and promote public awareness of civil liberties across the country’s federal member states.
For a nation where millions have been uprooted by conflict and climate shocks, where court systems struggle with capacity, and where journalists and activists often work at personal risk, a functioning commission could offer a credible venue for complaints and a steady, public record of rights conditions. Globally, institutions like this are evaluated under the UN’s Paris Principles; those with “A-status” accreditation are recognized for their independence and effectiveness. Somalia’s lawmakers and incoming commissioners will now face the practical test: can this new body meet that bar?
What the commission is expected to do
- Investigate alleged human rights violations and issue public findings.
- Monitor the government’s compliance with regional and international obligations.
- Advise on legislation, policies, and practices affecting civil liberties.
- Engage with citizens, including survivors and marginalized communities, to raise awareness and improve access to redress.
- Report to Parliament and collaborate with the African Union and United Nations human rights systems.
Warm applause—and questions
Even as the tally lit up in favor, some MPs voiced reservations ahead of the vote. Their concerns focused on the transparency of appointing commissioners and the safeguards that will shield the body from political interference. Those are not trivial questions; around the world, national human rights institutions rise or fall not on their founding laws but on their budgets, appointments, and the space they’re given to speak freely.
Somali civil society groups have long argued that any rights body must be independent not only on paper but in practice: commissioners chosen through open, merit-based processes; a protected, multi-year budget; and guaranteed access to places of detention and conflict-affected areas. Without those basics, a commission can swiftly become symbolic rather than substantive.
Part of a larger reform arc
The commission’s approval fits into a broader push to regularize Somalia’s governance architecture after years of ad hoc arrangements. Mogadishu has recently sought to consolidate gains: debt relief milestones, new security transitions, and steps toward stronger justice institutions. Establishing the commission also aligns Somalia with continental and global norms championed by the African Union and the United Nations, which encourage states to set up independent bodies to monitor rights and mediate between citizens and the state.
That alignment is not merely cosmetic. Countries with credible watchdogs are better positioned to engage with the UN’s Universal Periodic Review process and to tap into technical assistance that can improve law enforcement practices, corrections, and judicial independence. For donors and partners, it’s a sign that the state is building the scaffolding that democratic societies rely on: institutions that outlast any single government and can withstand political winds.
A country still in the crucible
Somalia’s rights landscape remains challenging. Insurgent attacks continue to strike civilians, security forces, and public spaces. Displacement runs into the millions, leaving families in the margins of cities like Mogadishu, Baidoa, and Kismayo, dependent on aid or informal work. In such conditions, abuses can occur in the shadows—during security operations, in detention, or at checkpoints far from cameras. Journalists and human rights defenders operate amid persistent threats and legal uncertainty.
Against that backdrop, a national commission can serve multiple roles at once: fact-finder, early warning system, and a bridge between citizens and state authorities. In practical terms, it can document patterns—child recruitment, arbitrary detention, sexual and gender-based violence—and recommend remedies that the courts, ministries, and security services can act on.
The road from paper to practice
The next steps will determine whether this moment is remembered as a turning point or a missed opportunity. Among the questions now facing Parliament and the executive:
- How transparent and inclusive will the selection of commissioners be?
- Will the commission have a guaranteed, adequate budget and the freedom to publish without vetting?
- Can it access detention facilities, military sites, and remote areas where violations are often alleged?
- How will it work with federal member states to ensure nationwide reach?
- Will survivors—women, children, minorities, displaced people—feel safe bringing cases forward?
Somalia is not alone in grappling with these issues. From West Africa to Southeast Asia, the strength of national human rights institutions often correlates with their distance from the daily fray of politics. Where that independence holds, commissions have helped unwind abusive practices and build public trust. Where it does not, they risk becoming letterheads and press releases—important, but not decisive.
A cautious optimism
Saturday’s vote was met with a mixture of celebration and caution among rights advocates. The promise is real: a credible, independent commission can turn diffuse concerns into documented cases and recommendations—and create a feedback loop that nudges the state toward better performance. It can also offer a public platform where citizens, especially those who rarely make it into formal institutions, can be heard.
Yet, as any Somali elder might say, the first step is naming the well; the second is digging it. The name has now been given. The digging—slow, hard, and necessary—begins with appointments, rules of procedure, and a steady drumbeat of reporting that does not flinch from uncomfortable truths.
For Somalia’s partners, the ask is straightforward: help set the commission up for success with technical support, training, and a protective diplomatic umbrella for its independence. For Somalia’s leaders, the challenge is to let this body do its work—even when its findings sting. If they do, the dividends could be profound: a country that not only promises rights on paper, but makes them visible, measurable, and enforceable in the daily lives of its people.
In a capital that has learned to keep its celebrations brief, lawmakers left the chamber with a rare sense of consensus. The test now is whether consensus can translate into courage—the kind that sustains institutions through storms and keeps the door open for those who need it most.
By Ali Musa
Axadle Times international–Monitoring.
