Former Somali Prime Minister Travels to South Africa Using Swedish Documents After Being Refused Diplomatic Passport
“What is politics but the art of pulling wool over the eyes of the people?” mused a seasoned diplomat over coffee once. With these words echoing in my mind, let me delve into a story that adds another layer to the intricate tapestry known as Somali politics.
On a balmy Thursday, the air was heavy with anticipation at O.R. Tambo International Airport in Johannesburg. The reason? The unexpected arrival of Mohamed Hussein Roble, a man who once steered Somalia from the turbulent raft as its Prime Minister. This, however, was not just another diplomatic ETA; the Somali government had hindered Roble from acquiring a diplomatic passport, a decision that has since stirred quite a pot in Mogadishu’s corridors of power. A classic case of “watch what they do, not what they say,” maybe?
Roble, a bearer of dual identities, navigated these diplomatic waters under a Swedish flag—his passport from Sweden facilitating his travel. Accompanying him was a delegation of notable personalities: former Minister of Education Abdullahi Arab, former State Minister for Planning Gaani, and former Banadir regional secretary-general Xiireey. Sweden’s blue and gold provided the visas, underscoring the Somali administration’s apparent blockade of their own diplomatic stream.
Surprisingly or maybe not, Somalia’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs has chosen the more retrospective path—silence. Here we are, in a situation resembling a chess game where the moves speak volumes, but the players remain mute. Alas, social media platforms filled this narrative vacuum, spinning stories and fanning the flames of dissent. Could this be a hallmark of shifting alliances within Somalia’s fragmented leadership? Online pundits and seasoned critics alike are pondering the implications of a policy maneuver that bars a former prime minister from the luxury of diplomatic passage. Could it be history reminding those in power how fleeting their grip on authority can be?
The invitation to South Africa extended to Roble by the resilient Somali diaspora seems threaded with purpose. The stage is set for him to articulate perspectives on the trials facing his nation—political upheavals that mirror ancient rivalries and emergent disputes over the electoral and constitutional tapestry of Somalia. Every decision, every hesitation now seems to echo louder in the halls of Mogadishu.
Yet, the question lingers: are we witnessing bureaucracy used as a tool for exclusion, a dance where particular steps disenfranchise others? Against this backdrop, public sentiment has burst forth, a torrent against those perceived to be using bureaucratic finesse as a strategic obstacle against political adversaries.
Imagine, if you will, a government poised in a delicate balance, where each administrative action, or lack thereof, offers glimpses into underlying tensions. Officials sit tight-lipped, leaving whispers to swell into louder critiques as constituents yearn for transparency amidst the veils of political strategy. All this while the Ministry of Foreign Affairs remains tucked away behind a shroud of official silence.
As the drone of the Johannesburg air traffic fades, Roble stands at the brink of discussions that may very well shape Somalia’s future narrative. Is this an isolated event or the first tremor before a seismic political shift? As we ponder this, one may recall the diplomat’s words, contemplating the myriad ways politicians choose their stage and write their theater.
And thus, in the grand theater of Somali politics, this chapter wends onward—a tale spun ever tighter with intrigue, silence, and profound implications for the road ahead. All eyes now turn to Johannesburg, listening for the dialogue that may reshape contexts of power across the Horn of Africa.
Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International–Monitoring
