Netanyahu’s Allegedly Illegal Somalia Recognition Move Raises New Questions

Netanyahu’s Allegedly Illegal Somalia Recognition Move Raises New Questions

Israel’s recognition of North Western State of Somalia is not mere diplomatic theater. Announced by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, the move inserts the Middle East’s most combustible politics into the Horn of Africa and raises the stakes along the Red Sea—one of the world’s most sensitive maritime corridors. For Somalia, which maintains a One Somalia policy with near-universal international backing, the gambit threatens national unity. For North Western State of Somalia, it offers symbolism without sovereignty at a potentially steep strategic price.

Supporters will call it a breakthrough. But the recognition appears less a gesture of peace than a power play—one that aligns closely with Israel’s regional strategy and the interests of its Gulf and Horn partners. Critics in Somalia and beyond warn it risks militarizing the Berbera corridor, binding North Western State of Somalia to the Abraham Accords, and entangling a fragile region in proxy rivalries that run from Gaza to the Bab al-Mandeb.

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The subtext is darker still. Some opponents allege the recognition is tethered to ideas long floated on the margins of Israeli politics: relocating Palestinians beyond their homeland. There is no public plan attesting to such a scheme. Yet in a year of mass displacement and mounting international censure over the war in Gaza, even the hint of demographic engineering—outsourced to East Africa or anywhere else—lands as a provocation. In a region where sovereignty, identity, and borders remain live wires, that perception alone can be destabilizing.

Strip the optics from the outcome, and a cold calculus emerges: What, exactly, does North Western State of Somalia gain? Recognition by a single state—especially one that lacks ties with dozens of U.N. members and sits at the center of a polarizing conflict—does not confer U.N. membership, access to multilateral lending, or the anchor of treaty-based security guarantees. In international politics, recognition is a function of power blocs and institutions, not applause. Taiwan has allies but no U.N. seat. Kosovo has broad recognition but remains outside the U.N. Palestine is recognized by most of the world yet is blocked at the Security Council. Without buy-in from major powers and multilateral bodies, recognition remains largely symbolic.

The early global reaction underscores that reality. Regional and international organizations—including African, Arab and Islamic blocs—and several key capitals quickly reiterated support for Somalia’s territorial integrity. Allies of Israel in the Red Sea basin notably avoided following suit. Even governments rumored to be exploring similar moves publicly restated their adherence to the One Somalia policy. The message was unmistakable: unilateral gestures cannot substitute for institutional legitimacy.

If reports out of Hargeisa are correct—that North Western State of Somalia’s leadership is prepared to align with the Abraham Accords and grant Israel military access on its soil—the trade-off looks still riskier. Berbera sits hard by the mouth of the Red Sea, tied to the Bab al-Mandeb choke point through which a significant share of global commerce flows. Turning that coastline into a forward operating node in a broader regional contest invites escalation across a theater where the Houthis, Iranian proxies, and a host of nonstate actors already test the limits of maritime security.

Inside Somalia, the implications are no less acute. Two decades of hard-won progress—debt relief, security-sector reform, constitutional milestones, and closer ties with partners such as Türkiye and Qatar—could be undercut if external actors legitimize secessionist claims. That risks inflaming clan tensions, handing extremist groups like al-Shabab and ISIS fresh propaganda, and diverting finite resources from state-building to crisis management. It would also complicate delicate cooperation among Red Sea littoral states, including Egypt and Saudi Arabia, that prize predictability along this corridor.

For North Western State of Somalia, the reputational ledger is equally unforgiving. Instead of advancing its case as a law-abiding, democratic actor seeking consensual pathways to statehood, it risks presenting itself as a staging ground for external militaries and proxy politics. Recognition untethered to multilateral consensus does not unlock the World Bank, IMF, or major credit markets. It does, however, invite scrutiny—particularly across the Muslim world—at a moment when public opinion is seared by images from Gaza and when allegations of war crimes and even genocide are the subject of global legal debate.

There is a historical caution here. In 1972, as a newly independent Bangladesh sought international legitimacy, Israel offered recognition. Dhaka declined, choosing solidarity with Palestine and unity with the wider Muslim world over expediency. The decision startled many, but it rested on a principle that has aged well: recognition devoid of values and context is an empty prize. Legitimacy is not simply the act of being seen; it is the outcome of alignment with law, consensus, and the long-term interests of one’s own people.

That logic applies today. The United States, the United Kingdom, China and most multilateral organizations continue to endorse Somalia’s territorial integrity. No configuration of bilateral ties can overcome that structural fact, and no amount of ceremony in one capital can rewrite the arithmetic of the U.N. Security Council. North Western State of Somalia’s leaders may believe recognition by Israel cracks the door to broader acceptance; the more likely outcome is that it hardens opposition and narrows options.

None of this forecloses legitimate grievances or aspirations. North Western State of Somalia’s political project has roots in real histories of violence and a long-running argument for self-determination. But the pathway to durable status—federal accommodation, internationally mediated talks, or a negotiated end-state authorized by regional bodies—cannot be replaced by an external shortcut that militarizes the coast and polarizes the Horn. In practice, the Israeli move complicates rather than clarifies the question of North Western State of Somalia’s future.

The broader lesson for policymakers is stark. When recognition becomes a tactical instrument of great-power competition, every state with internal complexities becomes vulnerable. Today’s precedent in the Horn could be tomorrow’s crisis in another post-conflict or decentralized polity. Responsible diplomacy builds bridges between states and within them; predatory geopolitics widens fractures and then exploits them.

The way forward is not mysterious. Major powers and regional organizations should reaffirm the One Somalia policy while backing dialogue between Mogadishu and Hargeisa inside an African-led framework. Any external security presence along the Red Sea should be transparent, anchored in multilateral mechanisms, and explicitly designed to reduce—not inflame—regional tensions. And Israel, if it is serious about stability in the Global South, should avoid steps that entangle African states in the fallout of its own unresolved conflict, particularly at a time of profound public anger over Gaza.

Somalia’s long process of rebuilding is fragile but real. It deserves reinforcement, not a new front in someone else’s strategic map. North Western State of Somalia’s aspirations deserve an honest hearing, not a backdoor bargain that leaves it more isolated. Recognition can be a tool of peace when it serves law, consensus and local legitimacy. Used as leverage, it is a spark.

By Ali Musa

Axadle Times international–Monitoring.