Somalia’s Indispensable Moment: The Human Rights Commission

Mogadishu – Emerging from decades of turmoil, Somalia finds itself at a pivotal juncture with the establishment of its Independent Human Rights Commission. This isn’t merely a formality; it represents a constitutional obligation—a profound test of the nation’s ethical landscape and the moral duty of its leaders.

Tasked by the Provisional Constitution, this commission aims not just to enhance governance but to actively safeguard the dignity of Somali citizens. It seeks to reclaim the essence of human rights from the hands of international overseers, i.e., the UN Independent Human Rights Expert, and reassert Somalia’s sovereign duty. However, even at this nascent stage, shadows of betrayal loom large.

For two decades, since the inception of the Transitional Federal Government in 2004, the ruling elite has sidestepped this critical responsibility. This avoidance wasn’t mere negligence; it was an orchestrated strategy of suppression—a calculated maneuver to protect their power while allowing suffering to fester in silence. The absence of a human rights body wasn’t just a bureaucratic gap but rather a fortified wall meant to close off accountability and facilitate unchecked authority. Truly, a legitimate commission would have threatened to dismantle the very architecture of their rule by exposing a system built on theft, repression, and the brutal misuse of power, all disguised under the rhetoric of federalism and clan cohesion.

Such exposure could have unraveled the secrets of impunity, where victims are silenced and institutions serve the status quo rather than justice. The perpetrators did not merely dread failure; they feared the light of accountability shining on their actions.

As the selection process commences, one might wonder: Is this truly a path toward justice, or has it become another tactical maneuver to secure power? Guided by veil of secrecy and influenced by political brokers, the process seems to be evolving into something ominous— a commission fashioned not to confront, but to entrench impunity.

Surprisingly, the Ministry of Women and Human Rights Development, which should have taken the lead in this selection, finds itself marginalized. Instead of guidance, we see an assertive hand from Villa Somalia—not to nurture, but to dictate. This transformation shifts the goalposts of the commission, turning what should be a transparent, inclusive initiative into a tightly controlled exercise in exclusion.

Such actions do more than undermine the integrity of the commission; they threaten to delegitimize it in the eyes of the Somali public and the federal member states. What should be a beacon of hope may become yet another institution viewed as a mere extension of the ruling elite. At a time when public trust in state institutions hangs by a thread, this approach could fracture unity, dismantling the very foundation the commission was meant to reinforce.

Accounts suggest that several highly competent and principled candidates have been quietly excluded—not for lacking qualifications, but due to their unwavering integrity. Their very strength became their downfall. This is not a competitive selection process; it’s a subversion of constitutional intent, morphing a sacred institution into a staged charade devoid of public trust.

Regrettably, this reflects a disturbing trend: the repurposing of a human rights body into a political shield—an apparatus designed not for protection but to quash dissent, smother civil society, and manipulate independent media. It embodies repression masquerading as reform, all wrapped up in morally questionable rhetoric.

Engaging in human rights work in Somalia is no small feat; it’s a daunting endeavor that demands resilience, faced with risks unknown to many. It calls for individuals who have bravely stood beside victims, who have voiced uncomfortable truths, and who have paid dearly to maintain their moral compass in a system riddled with corruption. This sacred task should never be entrusted to the very architects of silence.

Somalia continues to bleed from decades of unresolved grievances. The politicization of the Human Rights Commission only adds heavier burdens to an already tragic continuum of injustices. Journalists face harassment, detention, and even death with alarming regularity, and the plight of women and children suffers in silence. These aren’t mere failures; they represent a systemic neglect deliberate in nature—engineered to protect the powerful rather than the populace.

Thus, Somalia stands in need not of another hollow institution but of a commission built on truth and fortified by principles. A commission that can investigate without trepidation, report without bias, and defend without reservations is not just desirable; it’s imperative for the Somali people.

If this commission becomes enmeshed in political, personal, or clan-based allegiances, it will not just falter; it risks transforming into a weapon in the sordid political landscape—one that launders injustice and fortifies further abuses. It could preach rights while practicing oppression, deepening the very wounds it was intended to heal.

This moment is not merely about bureaucratic decisions; it’s a moral crossroads. The selection committee must choose wisely: will they bolster the nation’s scarred conscience or taint its future with complicity? Their accountability lies not with those in power but with the people and history itself. Somalia is abundant with principled individuals ready to uphold justice. This commission ought to embody their spirit—not the mere survival instincts of political figures.

The legitimacy of this commission will boil down to a pivotal question: Was it constructed based on truth, or tailored for control? What starts as elite strategy could culminate in national disarray. This encompasses not only the integrity of the Somali state but also the very essence of truth. Can a wounded populace still dare to hope for justice?

Ultimately, this commission has the potential to signal a turning point, but only if it’s anchored in trust rather than manipulation. The stakes extend beyond institutional credibility; they touch upon the heart of the nation itself. If the commission is shaped by pressure and clandestine deals, recognition from the people, regions, and the international community will remain elusive.

Time remains to embark on a different path—one that favors principles over positions, endorsing long-lasting legitimacy over transient political gains. Somalia cannot shoulder the burden of another insipid institution masquerading as a meaningful force. The demand is clear: a commission that stands resolutely, independently, and unequivocally for the people.

This moment is irreversible. The government faces a decisive choice: create a guiding light of accountability that illuminates the nation’s journey or erect a monument to impunity that casts shadows for generations to come. Both history and the Somali populace are attentively observing.

__________________________________________

Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International – Monitoring.