Four years of preventable policy failure, Hiiraan Online says

By Dr. Ali Said FaqiMonday May 11, 2026

When President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud campaigned on the promise of “Somalis at peace with themselves and at peace with the rest of the world,” the line struck a nerve. After years of political turbulence and fragmentation, many Somalis saw in it the outline of a fresh start: reconciliation, rebuilt institutions and a stronger sense of national purpose.

Four years on, that optimism has largely given way to frustration. Many Somalis now say the country is more divided than before, its institutions are weaker, and its standing abroad has suffered. Confidence in public leadership has eroded, fault lines have widened and uncertainty over Somalia’s future has deepened at home and in the international arena.

This op-ed reflects on the policies and direction pursued during the last four years under President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud. It examines how decisions presented as reforms or nation-building initiatives instead contributed to polarization, institutional tension, and growing uncertainty about Somalia’s future.

Just as important, many of the crises that unfolded were not unavoidable. They were political choices — decisions that could have been tempered through consultation, compromise and a more inclusive approach to governance.

What makes the trajectory especially striking is that Hassan Sheikh Mohamud was far from a political novice. Before his first ascent to the presidency in 2012, he had been active in civil society and the education sector and was widely regarded as a moderate who understood dialogue, reconciliation and institution-building, even though public dissatisfaction with his first term remained high.

After leaving office in 2017, he spent nearly five years as an opposition leader sharply criticizing unilateral rule, exclusionary politics, weak consultation and the concentration of authority in the presidency.

For that reason, many Somalis assumed his return would reflect hard-won lessons from both governing and opposing power.

Instead, early concerns surfaced about the gathering of decision-making around the presidency. Allies and friends of Hassan Sheikh Mohamud have openly said that he signaled from the outset that his style would be heavily centralized, guided mainly by his own judgment and marked by little willingness to entertain alternative views.

That approach is difficult to reconcile with the realities he knew well before returning to office. He understood that the federal government does not exercise full authority across the country. He knew Somalia’s security setup remains heavily reliant on outside assistance and international partnerships. He also understood that donor funding and budgetary support continue to prop up core state institutions and day-to-day government operations.

Those constraints should have encouraged caution, compromise and coalition-building. Instead, the administration projected the posture of a strong central state while governing a country still dependent on fragile political bargains and international backing.

Only a leader with control over national borders, fully independent institutions and a self-sustaining treasury can seriously attempt to govern by iron fist for an extended period. Somalia is not such a state.

Power without legitimacy rarely brings stability in a divided political environment.

In post-conflict settings, legitimacy matters more than raw force. Consensus is not optional. It is the backbone of survival and stability.

The question was never whether Somalia needed firm leadership. It did. But in a fragile political landscape, strength is measured by a leader’s capacity to bring stakeholders together, balance competing interests, protect national cohesion and build trust — not by pulling more power into one office.

The cabinet formation intensified fears that loyalty had outrun competence. In a country still recovering from institutional collapse, Somalia needed seasoned technocrats and administrators who could strengthen state capacity and represent the country credibly abroad.

Instead, the public at home and abroad watched video clips of cabinet members who appeared unqualified and were sometimes humiliated in international forums, where Somalia’s representatives seemed ill-prepared and unable to clearly present coherent national positions. For a state dependent on partnerships, such moments did not inspire confidence.

Yet the president appeared unmoved. It is hard to understand how a leader can speak of national progress while shielding incompetence from accountability and allowing weak performance to remain entrenched at the top of government.

Nothing captured the administration’s centralized instincts more clearly than the constitutional amendment drive. In a politically fragile federal system, constitutional reform requires broad participation, consultation and compromise. Instead, the process became contentious and divisive, feeding mistrust among political actors and widening institutional cracks.

Rather than reinforcing national unity, the amendment process deepened friction between the federal government and several federal member states, many of which saw it as unilateral and politically exclusionary.

The federal government’s relationship with the member states became one of the clearest signs of a more confrontational governing style. Over the past four years, ties between Mogadishu and several federal member states deteriorated significantly instead of improving through cooperation.

The administration largely gave up on constructive political engagement with Puntland State and Jubaland, both of which repeatedly raised concerns about constitutional changes, elections, power-sharing and the wider direction of federal governance. Those concerns were not met with sustained dialogue and compromise; they were met with mistrust, political isolation and confrontation.

Meanwhile, in the view of much of the public and according to repeated remarks and admissions by political insiders, Southwest State, Hirshabelle and Galmudug appeared to remain under significant pressure and influence from the president. Their leadership structures seemed to depend heavily on survival through alignment with the federal government rather than on independent regional legitimacy. The repeated extension of leadership mandates without meaningful political conditions or broad agreement only deepened anxieties about weakening federal institutions and eroding democratic accountability.

Nowhere was that pattern more visible than in Baidoa. Frustrated by what many saw as continued political pressure and public humiliation from Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, Southwest State President Abdiaziz Hassan Mohamed Laftagareen moved forward with a state election process outside the federal government’s preferred political path. That decision led to military intervention by the federal government and sharply escalated tensions in Baidoa. Public anger remains high today over the figure widely believed to be the president’s preferred candidate for Southwest State leadership. The presence of federal troops is also stoking resentment and mistrust, while many residents and political actors believe the outcome has already been tilted in favor of the president’s party. In effect, the president’s handling of Southwest State has left political fractures that may shape the region for years.

There are now growing fears that similar tactics could surface in Hirshabelle and Galmudug as both states head toward upcoming elections. Those concerns continue to fuel unease about the future of Somalia’s federal system and whether real decentralization can endure under expanding central control.

The Baidoa tensions fit into a broader pattern that many Somalis believe also defined the administration’s national approach to elections and power-sharing.

No single political actor can impose a national electoral model on a society as fractured and fragile as Somalia without broad consensus and public legitimacy.

Yet the administration pressed ahead with a one-person, one-vote framework before building political agreement on how it would work, what legal safeguards would govern it, how security would be managed and whether institutions were ready. Many Somalis still ask how such a process could realistically function under current conditions.

The issue was never resistance to democracy itself. It was the absence of consensus, transparency and national ownership in the way the process was pursued.

Foreign policy also grew increasingly erratic, with Somalia’s diplomacy often seeming reactive, contradictory and shaped more by short-term positioning than by a clear long-term doctrine.

At one point, Hassan Sheikh Mohamud aligned closely with Egypt on matters tied to Egyptian national interests; soon after, he engaged warmly with Ethiopia and seemed to support Addis Ababa’s position on the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD), despite the bitter dispute between the two countries over the project.

A similar pattern played out in ties with Eritrea and Ethiopia. At different moments, the administration projected closeness with both countries even though they have long been at odds, particularly over regional influence, security arrangements and the fragile post-Tigray political landscape in the Horn of Africa.

For any government, it is extremely difficult to maintain close alignment with rival regional powers that pursue conflicting strategic interests. Somalia’s shifting posture created confusion over its long-term foreign policy and raised questions about strategic consistency. Regional actors increasingly began to doubt how reliable and predictable Somalia’s diplomacy really was.

Questions about inconsistency and a lack of transparency also surfaced around major international agreements.

The administration’s controversial deals with Turkey on fisheries, oil and gas cooperation drew sharp public concern. Political stakeholders argued that the agreements lacked transparency, parliamentary oversight and meaningful national consultation. In countries with weak institutions, deals involving strategic resources need institutional legitimacy and public trust; otherwise, they risk becoming lasting sources of political conflict and suspicion.

Likewise, the decision to join the East African Community triggered serious debate among many Somalis over timing, preparedness and the country’s economic readiness for regional integration. While membership can bring long-term economic and diplomatic gains, key accession requirements — including infrastructure, regulatory harmonization and trade integration — remain far from complete, raising doubts about whether Somalia joined before its institutions and economy were ready.

Those governance and policy contradictions were mirrored in the administration’s security strategy.

The campaign against Al‑Shabaab initially raised hopes. Early offensives generated momentum and public backing. But durable stabilization never followed because military gains were not consistently matched by governance, local administration, institutional recovery and public services.

Security experts have long argued that insurgencies cannot be beaten by force alone. Lasting stability depends on governance, legitimacy, economic opportunity and public trust.

Today, many Somalis believe the country remains politically split, institutionally fragile, economically uncertain and diplomatically inconsistent. The promise of unity, they say, gave way to deeper mistrust between the federal government, federal member states, opposition groups and segments of the public.

Many of the political and institutional gains built through years of compromise and reconciliation now appear alarmingly fragile.

Yet much of this was avoidable.

Somalia’s political reality demands humility from those in power, not overreach. It demands coalition-building, not the hoarding of authority. It demands consultation, not unilateral decisions.

The central failure of these four years was not only bad policy. It was the abandonment of the very principles — consensus, patience and inclusive governance — that post-conflict states like Somalia need to survive and move forward.

Arrogance, overconfidence and the belief that one person alone had the answers to Somalia’s complex problems ultimately pushed the country backward and cost it valuable chances for unity, stability and national progress.

Somalia cannot afford to repeat the mistakes of the past four years. Its future will depend on leaders who place consultation, compromise, institutional strength and national unity above personal political ambition.