Somali PM Hamza Barre hails Turkey as strategic ally during Mogadishu’s 102nd Republic Day

Somalia and Turkey Mark Republic Day — And a Partnership Forged in Crisis

Mogadishu’s salute to a trusted ally

Under the bright Mogadishu sun, a small crowd filtered into the Turkish Embassy’s courtyard on Wednesday, where Turkish and Somali flags hung side by side and a brass band played the familiar crescendos of national anthems. It was a moment at once ceremonial and deeply personal: Somalia joined Turkey in marking the 102nd anniversary of the Republic, with Prime Minister Hamza Abdi Barre calling the day “a shared moment of pride between two nations linked by brotherhood, trust, and partnership.”

“Turkey is a steadfast friend that has stood by Somalia through both hardship and progress,” Hamza told diplomats, officials and members of Mogadishu’s Turkish community. He praised the legacy of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, calling Turkey’s founding leader “a reminder of courage and vision” for modern states. In a neat piece of symmetry, he then reached back to a memory Somalis often cite: Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s 2011 visit to Mogadishu—at the time, among the first by a non-African leader in years—when drought and conflict were laying waste to lives and livelihoods. “A defining moment,” Hamza said, that reshaped international engagement with Somalia.

In Ankara, Somalia’s ambassador to Turkey, Fathudin Ali Mohamed, conveyed President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud’s congratulations at a separate reception. He called the relationship one built on “shared history, mutual respect, and a common vision for peace and prosperity.” His words echoed a decade of experience on the ground: the exchange of students and doctors, engineers and soldiers; the patient bureaucracy of development projects; and the quiet rituals of friendship that turn slogans into something lived.

A partnership built in the lean years

Turkey’s arrival in Somalia was not choreographed to grand strategy alone; it was accelerated by catastrophe. In 2011, famine killed tens of thousands and displaced millions. Turkish aid groups set up field kitchens; Turkish doctors moved into crowded wards; Turkish jets delivered cargo; a Turkish prime minister showed up when the air was still thick with fear. That visit pushed open a door. It wasn’t long before Turkish Airlines began regular flights to Mogadishu, making it the first major international carrier to return after the state’s collapse in 1991.

From there, the footprint grew. Turkish companies rehabilitated the port of Mogadishu and upgraded Aden Adde International Airport. The capital’s largest public hospital, once a shell, reopened with Turkish support and now bears President Erdoğan’s name. Scholarships flowed for Somali students to train in Turkish universities. And in 2017, the TURKSOM military training facility opened—Turkey’s largest overseas training base—where thousands of Somali soldiers have since cycled through the ranks, including members of the Gorgor commando units now deployed in front-line operations against al-Shabaab.

Somalis of a certain age will tell you that Turkish soap operas were already popular in Mogadishu’s living rooms. But culture followed the cranes. Turkish schools and cultural centers multiplied; Turkish and Somali cuisines overlapped in homes and restaurants. The phrase “people-to-people ties” can feel like diplomatic filler until you see how hard it is to disentangle these relationships once they’ve taken root.

From aid to strategy in a contested neighborhood

Today, Turkey’s role in Somalia is no longer defined primarily by emergency relief. It has evolved into a structured partnership that spans security, trade, education, and governance. This year, Ankara and Mogadishu deepened that arc with a long-term defense and maritime cooperation framework focused on training Somalia’s navy and helping protect its vast coastline—an expanse vulnerable to illegal fishing, trafficking, and piracy. That agreement landed amid wider churn in the Horn of Africa: diplomatic rivalries, shifting alliances, and a Red Sea security crisis that has disrupted shipping and put global supply chains on edge.

To be clear, Turkey is not alone in Somalia. The United Arab Emirates, Qatar, the European Union, Britain, and the United States all invest in the country’s security forces and economy; China builds roads and hospitals across the region. But Turkey stands out for the breadth of its engagement and the political capital it has staked on Somalia’s success. That presence has given Ankara leverage in a strategic corridor connecting the Suez Canal to the Indian Ocean—exactly where “middle powers” are expanding their influence as great-power rivalries reconfigure.

There is opportunity in that for Somalia, which is rebuilding after decades of civil war and has seen the UN Security Council lift the final restrictions of its arms embargo. A more capable national army and coast guard, a reformed tax base, and functioning institutions could unlock Somali-led growth across sectors like fisheries, logistics, and energy. But the presence of multiple, ambitious partners also requires careful statecraft: balancing interests while preserving sovereignty, ensuring that soft power doesn’t harden into dependency.

The questions partners must face

For every ribbon-cutting, there is a ledger. Somalis debate whether foreign-run concessions at the port and airport are delivering the best returns. They ask whether security sector reforms are building durable, nationally accountable forces or merely elite units aligned to whoever funds them. They worry—understandably—about what happens if political winds shift in Ankara, Abu Dhabi, Doha, or Washington.

Turkey, for its part, wrestles with the risks of a long commitment at a time when it faces economic headwinds at home. It has sought to mediate tensions in the region, including the flare-ups between Somalia and Ethiopia over maritime access and the status of North Western State of Somalia. That’s part principle, part pragmatism: stability in the Horn is now tied to Turkey’s own interests in trade, security, and reputation.

These are not abstract concerns. They touch everyday life. A more secure Mogadishu means children in school rather than bunkered at home. A reliable airport means families reunite and businesses ship goods. A functioning hospital means fewer funerals. But the test of partnership is whether it builds the capacity of the host nation to stand on its own, not only to stand with its friends.

Why this anniversary resonates beyond Mogadishu

Republic Day is a national celebration in Turkey. In Somalia, it doubled as a tally of a relationship that has reshaped the country’s daily rhythms and diplomatic orientation. It also hinted at the future: where development merges with strategy, where humanitarian aid is a bridge to long-term investment, and where African states negotiate a more multipolar world on their own terms.

The stakes extend well past Somalia’s borders. The Horn sits astride critical shipping lanes and migration routes. Climate shocks are increasing in frequency and intensity. Reforming states need patient partners with more than a news cycle’s attention span. If Somalia and Turkey can convert a decade of goodwill into durable institutions and broad-based economic growth, it would be a template with lessons from Dakar to Dar es Salaam.

What to watch next

• Security and maritime implementation: How quickly will the naval training and coastal protection components move from paper to patrols, and who will be accountable for oversight?
• Economic dividends: Will port, airport, and logistics upgrades translate into jobs and revenue across Somali regions, not only in the capital?
• Education pipelines: Can scholarship programs and technical training create a cadre of Somali professionals who reduce reliance on foreign contractors?
• Regional diplomacy: As tensions ebb and flow in the Horn, will Turkey’s expanded role help de-escalate disputes and support Somali sovereignty?
• Public trust: Will citizens see tangible, equitable benefits—safer streets, stronger institutions—that turn diplomatic words into lasting confidence?

On Wednesday, there were no easy answers—only sincere toasts and careful speeches. But for two nations that have learned to navigate crisis together, the more interesting story begins after the band packs up. What does a truly sustainable partnership look like, and who gets to define it?

By Ali Musa
Axadle Times international–Monitoring.