Is Mogadishu Facing a Kabul-Style Collapse?
By Prof. Nassir Hussein Kahin
As Somaliland prepares to commemorate the 35th anniversary of the restoration of its sovereignty on May 18, the political landscape across the former Somali Republic has entered perhaps its most dangerous phase in more than a decade. The contrast between Hargeisa and Mogadishu is no longer merely administrative or political. It is now geopolitical, institutional, and existential.
In Mogadishu, the internationally recognized Federal Government of Somalia is facing simultaneous crises of legitimacy, security, constitutional authority, and political cohesion. Negotiations between President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud and opposition leaders have effectively collapsed after days of internationally backed talks inside the heavily fortified Halane compound near Aden Adde International Airport. The talks, informally facilitated by the United States and the United Kingdom, failed to bridge widening disputes over elections, constitutional amendments, and the president’s mandate.
The failure of these negotiations is not simply another political disagreement. It represents the exposure of a deeper structural problem that has haunted Somalia since 1991: the absence of a nationally accepted political settlement.
More than three decades after state collapse, Somalia still lacks consensus on the rules governing power transfer, constitutional order, federalism, and electoral legitimacy. The country remains governed under a provisional constitution adopted in 2012, while repeated attempts to finalize constitutional arrangements have instead deepened political fragmentation.
President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud’s insistence on proceeding with one-person-one-vote elections without a broad political agreement has triggered fierce opposition resistance. Opposition groups, including former presidents, Puntland leadership, and Jubaland officials, accuse the federal government of attempting to centralize authority and manipulate electoral mechanisms in ways that could extend executive power.
The symbolism of these negotiations occurring inside Halane — a diplomatic enclave protected by foreign security forces and surrounded by international compounds — is profoundly revealing. Somalia’s most critical political decisions are once again being negotiated under the shadow of external actors rather than through domestically rooted institutional confidence. Even the temporary withdrawal of US and UK representatives from negotiations after talks deteriorated highlighted the depth of the impasse.
Meanwhile, the security situation has deteriorated sharply.
Al-Shabaab continues to demonstrate operational resilience and strategic adaptability. Attacks near Mogadishu, the targeting of presidential movements, and growing pressure on strategic routes have intensified fears that the federal government is steadily losing operational control outside heavily protected zones. Reports of military desertions, declining morale, and the growing dependence on fragmented security structures have further raised concerns regarding the sustainability of Somalia’s security architecture.
Increasingly, analysts are drawing comparisons not to Iraq or Libya, but to Afghanistan before Kabul’s collapse in 2021.
The comparison is uncomfortable but increasingly difficult to dismiss.
Like the Taliban before entering Kabul, Al-Shabaab has focused less on immediate urban conquest and more on strategic encirclement, psychological warfare, and erosion of public confidence in state institutions. The organization has established shadow governance systems in rural territories while the federal government remains dependent on international military assistance, ATMIS deployments, Western funding, and Turkish security support.
The deeper danger for Mogadishu is not simply military defeat. It is institutional exhaustion.
The political crisis has now merged with growing public frustration over corruption allegations, forced displacement controversies, suppression of journalists, and fears of authoritarian drift. Recent reports of journalists being detained and beaten by Somali security forces amid rising political tensions have further damaged the government’s democratic credibility.
This convergence of constitutional paralysis, electoral uncertainty, deteriorating security, and political fragmentation has revived discussions — once considered exaggerated — about whether Somalia risks another major state Collapse.
And this is precisely where the Somaliland question becomes geopolitically unavoidable.
For decades, the international community has maintained a paradoxical policy toward the Horn of Africa: continuing to preserve Somalia’s territorial integrity while simultaneously investing in stabilization efforts that have failed to produce durable national consensus.
At the same time, Somaliland — despite lacking international recognition — has built functioning governing institutions, conducted multiple peaceful one-person-one-vote elections, maintained relative internal security, developed stable administrative systems, and demonstrated political continuity through negotiated democratic transitions.
The contrast is now becoming impossible to ignore.
As Somalia descends deeper into constitutional uncertainty, Somaliland enters its 35th anniversary celebrations with increasing diplomatic momentum and growing international strategic relevance.
President Abdirahman Mohamed Abdullahi Irro’s recent return from the United Arab Emirates has intensified regional speculation regarding a significant diplomatic breakthrough. Multiple diplomatic and regional intelligence sources suggest the Somaliland leader held high-level discussions not only with Gulf officials, but also with representatives connected to Israel, Greece, and other strategic actors increasingly concerned about Red Sea security, maritime competition, Iranian influence, Houthi instability, and shifting alliances across the Horn of Africa.
Particularly significant are persistent reports alleging quiet contacts involving Israeli leadership and Somaliland officials. While these reports remain officially unconfirmed, the geopolitical logic behind such engagement is increasingly clear.
Somaliland occupies one of the most strategically valuable maritime positions in the world, directly adjacent to the Bab el-Mandeb corridor — a chokepoint through which a substantial percentage of global trade and energy shipments pass. In an era of intensifying Red Sea militarization, Houthi attacks, great power competition, and regional instability, Somaliland is increasingly viewed not merely as an unrecognized territory, but as a strategic security partner.
This is especially relevant following deepening ties between Somaliland and Taiwan, expanding Emirati investments through the Berbera corridor, and growing Western interest in alternative security partnerships across the Horn of Africa.
What once appeared diplomatically impossible now appears strategically plausible.
Recognition itself may no longer be driven primarily by legal arguments alone, but by geopolitical necessity.
That possibility explains why speculation surrounding potential recognition announcements linked to Somaliland’s May 18 celebrations has intensified dramatically in recent weeks. Diplomatic chatter involving countries such as Eswatini, Zambia, the Dominican Republic, Argentina, and others reflects broader international reassessment underway regarding the viability of Somalia’s federal project versus Somaliland’s demonstrated governance capacity.
Whether immediate recognition materializes this month or not, a more profound geopolitical shift is already underway:
The international conversation has begun transitioning from “whether Somaliland deserves recognition” toward “whether continued non-recognition still serves international strategic interests.”
That is an extraordinary transformation.
For years, Somaliland’s argument rested largely on historical legality: its brief independence in 1960, voluntary union with Italian Somalia, genocidal repression under the Siyaad Barre regime, and the restoration of sovereignty in 1991 after state collapse.
Today, however, Somaliland’s strongest argument may no longer be historical grievance — but comparative governance performance.
The divergence is stark:
One side remains internationally recognized yet politically fractured, constitutionally unsettled, and heavily dependent on external security protection.
The other remains internationally unrecognized yet internally stable, electorally functional, strategically valuable, and increasingly integrated into emerging regional alignments.
This is no longer merely a Somali political issue.
It is becoming one of the defining geopolitical questions in the Horn of Africa.
And as Somaliland marks thirty-five years since reclaiming its sovereignty from the ruins of the former Somali Republic, the contrast between Hargeisa and Mogadishu may be approaching a historic inflection point — one that could permanently reshape regional diplomacy, Red Sea security architecture, and the future political map of the Horn of Africa.
The warnings that once appeared speculative now increasingly resemble early indicators of a larger geopolitical realignment already in motion.
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