Challenges in Somali Language Development: Egyptian Influence on Script Selection
The Journey of the Somali Language: A Complex Tapestry
- Advertisement -
Many people often ponder a significant question: Why did it take twelve years of independence and two decades of national discussions to reach a consensus on a written Somali language? The answer, as noted by David D. Laitin, is anything but straightforward. He remarked, “Whenever the matter was raised, foreign elements came at work. The people would split into factions—some supporting Somali script for nationalistic reasons, some advocating Arabic script on religious grounds, and others favoring Latin for economic and technical reasons.”
(David D. Laitin, Politics, Language, and Thought: The Somali Experience, p. 113) Yet, what Laitin fails to elucidate are the foreign elements who stymied progress, along with the motivations behind their interventions.
Surprisingly, the principal challenge emanated from Egypt. Drawing from solid evidence, it becomes evident that initial efforts to establish a common script faced considerable opposition orchestrated by Egyptian authorities, who had a vested interest in fostering a questionable Arab identity for Somalia. In a complex web of politics and ideology, the struggle for a unified writing system is emblematic of deeper cultural battles.
On August 1, 1950, the United Nations Advisory Council for Somalia (UNACS) adopted a resolution that proclaimed the teaching of the Somali language alongside Italian within schools across the Trust Territory of North Western State of Somalia under Italian administration. The UNACS resolution aimed to develop Somali as a national language, complete with its own alphabet. Interestingly, when the vote was cast, Egyptian delegate Mr. Ragheb abstained—a gesture that arguably signified deeper reservations.
(TNA FO 317/80887, secret report from the British Consulate in Mogadiscio to FO, September 14, 1950).
The stakes were raised further at the 1953 session of the Trusteeship Council of the United Nations, which underscored the “urgency to make Somali a written language in order to facilitate mass education.” Yet, Mr. Amal Nachaat, the Egyptian delegate, opposed this vital recommendation, advocating instead for the adoption of Arabic as the national language.
(ASMAE, AP, 1953, Telespresso n 91/07071 from the Italian Foreign Ministry to the Italian Embassy in Cairo, November 26, 1953).
In a bold but ultimately contentious act, the Somali government released a page of the official daily newspaper, Il Corriere della Somalia, printed in the Somali language using Roman characters in 1957. The backlash was swift and severe; conservative clergy, particularly aligned with pro-Arab sentiments, vehemently opposed this initiative. The slogan “Laatiin waa Laadiin” (“Latin is irreligious”), coined by Kamal El-Din Salah, exemplified the rhetoric used to undermine this critical attempt at fostering linguistic development. Salah went further, leveraging religious influence to discourage the use of the Somali language entirely.
(TAN 371/118675, telegram n, 1A from British Consulate Mogadiscio to FO, January 6, 1956).
The Egyptians’ opposition was relentless; they painted the Somali Prime Minister as a pawn of Italian interests, further complicating the language debate. As reported in Il Corriere della Somalia on June 20, 1957, one writer lamented, “No one seems to question that Arabic was the language of the Qur’aan, and a foreign language for Somalis, just like any other foreign language.”
Even in the face of the clear parliamentary mandate issued in 1959 urging the introduction of a written Somali language, no government was willing to risk enacting such a decision, fearing social unrest would ensue. As J.W. Johnson noted in “Oraliti, Literacy and Somali Poetry,” this hesitation reflects a fear of stirring “widespread social disruption.”
By 1961, the first linguistic commission was established, but it faced overwhelming internal divisions rooted in tribal, religious, and political affiliations. Competing ideologies emerged: some favored Arabic script to appease religious conservatives influenced by the Egyptian Cultural Mission, while more progressive voices called for a modified Roman alphabet. Additionally, some nationalistic factions developed unique scripts for Somali, namely “Osmania” and “Kadaria,” named after their creators, Yassin Osman Kenadid and Hussein Sheikh Kadare. The Osmania script, born in the early 1920s, found its utility in private correspondence and fueled nationalist sentiment post-World War II.
The reluctance of the Somali Youth League (SYL), once a vocal proponent of establishing Somali as the national language, further complicates this narrative. In a surprising turn, the SYL leadership petitioned the United Nations in favor of Arabic, portraying Somali as “backward” and “underdeveloped”—a rather disheartening misrepresentation. This petition, dated May 3, 1951, would later be scrutinized and condemned for its inaccuracies.
In January 1971, a newly appointed linguistic commission of twenty-one members convened. In stark contrast to its predecessor, this commission was tasked solely with preparing elementary school textbooks without being mandated to choose a national script. The political climate dictated by the military council made it clear that any script decision would be politically charged.
(David D. Laitin, pp. 115-116).
To the surprise of even its members, the government announced on the third anniversary of its coup d’état the adoption of the Latin alphabet as the official script for the Somali language. This decisive moment was more than a linguistic transition; it was a symbolic assertion of identity, hope, and cultural expression for a nation that had long wavered in the shadows of foreign influence.
Indeed, the journey of the Somali language reflects a microcosm of broader struggles—of identity, resistance, and the quest for cultural autonomy. In unraveling its history, we not only learn about the Somali people but also engage with fundamental questions about language and nationhood that resonate across cultures and borders.
Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International – Monitoring