^^^ It does in the 3rd paragraph. Translate this please Obbiettivo dichiarato delle Corti (che comunque negano qualunque rapporto con Al Qaeda e il terrorismo) ora è la conquista di Baidoa, dove risiede il parlamento federale di transizione, il governo guidato da Ali Gedi e il presidente Abdullahi Yussuf. Un obbiettivo che però, stavolta, non sembra facile: un battaglione di soldati etiopici, alleati dell’amministrazione, è stato schierato a difesa della città . Sono equipaggiati con cannoni e carri armati. Secondo fonti di intelligence gli islamici stanno ricevendo ingenti aiuti in armi e vettovaglie. Il materiale arriva dai Paesi del Golfo e dall’Eritrea. Istruttori di Asmara sono segnalati nei campi di addestramento, dove non ci sono solo somali ma anche, e soprattutto, stranieri. Etiopici antigovernativi fondamentalisti dell’Oromo Islamic Liberation Front operano guidati da comandanti eritrei. Uno dei due assassini di Suor Leonella, il 15 settembre, sembra sia oromo. Qualche settimana fa una nave che portava militari eritrei in Somalia è stata bombardata da aerei non identificati (etiopici o americani). Sono tutti morti. Accanto agli islamici sono schierati anche stranieri provenienti dai Paesi arabi, dal Pakistan e dall’Afghanistan. In giugno durante la battaglia di Mogadiscio (l’unica che abbia impegnato un po’ le corti, prima che fosse applicata la tattica dello svuotamento dell’avversario) sono stati fotografati mentre nelle retroguardie incitavano i miliziani al combattimenti.

^^^Original text of the third paragraph Obbiettivo dichiarato delle Corti (che comunque negano qualunque rapporto con Al Qaeda e il terrorismo) ora è la conquista di Baidoa, dove risiede il parlamento federale di transizione, il governo guidato da Ali Gedi e il presidente Abdullahi Yussuf. Un obbiettivo che però, stavolta, non sembra facile: un battaglione di soldati etiopici, alleati dell’amministrazione, è stato schierato a difesa della città . Sono equipaggiati con cannoni e carri armati. Secondo fonti di intelligence gli islamici stanno ricevendo ingenti aiuti in armi e vettovaglie. Il materiale arriva dai Paesi del Golfo e dall’Eritrea. Istruttori di Asmara sono segnalati nei campi di addestramento, dove non ci sono solo somali ma anche, e soprattutto, stranieri. Etiopici antigovernativi fondamentalisti dell’Oromo Islamic Liberation Front operano guidati da comandanti eritrei. Uno dei due assassini di Suor Leonella, il 15 settembre, sembra sia oromo. Qualche settimana fa una nave che portava militari eritrei in Somalia è stata bombardata da aerei non identificati (etiopici o americani). Sono tutti morti. Accanto agli islamici sono schierati anche stranieri provenienti dai Paesi arabi, dal Pakistan e dall’Afghanistan. In giugno durante la battaglia di Mogadiscio (l’unica che abbia impegnato un po’ le corti, prima che fosse applicata la tattica dello svuotamento dell’avversario) sono stati fotografati mentre nelle retroguardie incitavano i miliziani al combattimenti. Translation by google Declared Obbiettivo of the Courts (than however denies any relationship with To the Qaeda and the terrorism) hour is the conquest of Baidoa, where it resides the federal parliament of transition, the government guided from Ali Gedi and the president Abdullahi Yussuf. A obbiettivo that but, stavolta, does not seem easy: a battalion of Ethiopian soldiers, allies to you of the administration, has been schierato to defense of the city. They are equips with guns and tanks to you. According to intelligence sources the Muslims are receiving huge aids in crews and vettovaglie. The material arrives from the Countries of the Gulf and the Eritrean. Instructors of Asmara are signal to you in the training fields, where not somalis are alone but also, and above all, aliens. Antigoverned Ethiopian fondamentalisti you of the Oromo Islamic Liberation Front operate guide from commanders Eritreans to you. One of the two murders of Suor Leonella, the 15 september, seems is oromo. Some week it makes a ship that it carried military Eritreans in Somalia has been bombed from airplane does not identify (Ethiopian or Americans to you). They are all dead men. Beside the Muslims they are lines up to you also foreign coming from from the Arabic Countries, from Pakistan and the Afghanistan. In june during the battle of Mogadishu (the only one that has engaged little courts, before that the tactics of the emptying of the adversary was applied) has been photographed while in the rearguards they urged the miliziani to the combats.

^^ exactly my point Somalis are victims all over the world because of this war. The Somalis in South Africa are not suffering more then those in Yemen or in Finland and many other places.

Originally posted by xiinfaniin: Libaax, i heard there will be a grand meeting in Mogadishu. It's not only reer Burco, it's wadaads everywhere that are gathering to decide the future of Somalia. A grand strategy meeting sort of thing . For all the wadaad diid out there: be afraid, very afraid, i say . P.S: for those of you who were too young to know Shiekh Cali was the undisputed leader of the organized Saxwah. His age may prevent him to lead it today, but he will undoubtedly remain its spiritual leader. Someone tip of the Americans and one bomb can solve this wadaad seef labood problem.

^^ Sheekhii Burco (The ICU's Sheikh Ahmed Yasin) hadii uu Xamar aaday, the end game is near. The true face of the ICU will be seen. The question is who will fall first, the mini-states or Baydhabo?

What did you expect of them? Calool jileec times are over.

Political identity, emerging state structures and conflict in northern Somalia Markus V. Höhne Max Planck Institute for Social Anthropology, Halle/Saale, Germany. The Journal of Modern African Studies, Volume 44, Issue 03, Sep 2006, pp 397-414 doi: 10.1017/S0022278X06001820, Published online by Cambridge University Press 03 Aug 2006 (In this article the clan names have been replaced by regional names, it might confuse you sometimes, but I think you will figure it out). Abstract This paper discusses the logic of political identification by individuals and groups in the context of re-emerging state structures in northern Somalia. Current identities are analysed as political identities, which are both a product of and a driving force behind political and military conflict in the region. In everyday life political cleavages can be bridged by cross-cutting ties based on neighbourhood, intermarriage or common experiences and history. Only when conflict reaches a certain level and violence escalates, do political identities become mutually exclusive and large-scale fighting become a real threat. INTRODUCTION During the Somali civil war, all state institutions collapsed. Somalia had been led by the dictatorial government of Siyad Barre for more than two decades until 1991. During this period the state at least provided certain services. Over the last 14 years every attempt to rebuild it has failed. This, among a legion of other problems, has led to a crisis of political and national identity among many Somali, raising the question of people’s orientation towards the state. For people in northern Somalia, this question is not about parties or ideologies within a state or an international framework, but about the very existence of a state itself, and the individual and collective identities related to it. With Somaliland in northwestern Somalia and Puntland in northeastern Somalia, two de facto state administrations have been set up which partly fill the state vacuum (Doornbos 2000). As outlined below, their policies towards the future of the greater region and its inhabitants are incompatible and lead to conflict. I argue that as a result of the civil war and certain developments in northern Somalia, new identities have formed on the ground. These identities are not new in the sense that they are invented from scratch, but they combine existing identity markers in a way that is particularly meaningful in the current political context. According to Mamdani (2001: 20), these identities can be understood as political identities. He writes: ‘the process of state formation generates political identities that are distinct not only from market-based identities but also from cultural identities’. Mamdani sees the prescription of certain identities by law and the enforcement of these identities in the context of state-formation as central for the development of political identities. In this way political identities are ‘the consequence of how power is organized’ (ibid.: 22). But they are not only defined ‘from above’. They can also be forged ‘from below’ in the course of political action in contention with the state (ibid.: 23). Mamdani’s distinction between cultural and political identities is important. The former is based on a common past, while the latter testifies to a common project for the future. Furthermore, cultural identities tend to merge into one another and become blurred, while political identities develop towards polarisation and therefore ‘give rise to a kind of political difference where you must be either one or the other. … The difference becomes binary, not simply in law but in political life’ (ibid.). This process of dividing people according to different (legal) identities was, in both colonial and post-colonial times, often related to violence–that of either the colonisers or post-colonial governments against groups of subjects and vice versa (ibid.: 24–39). The Somali case differs in two ways from Mamdani’s discussion of political identities, which is based on the example of Rwanda. Firstly, in Somalia in general and northern Somalia in particular, legal prescription was less important for the forging of political identities than the political activities of colonial and post-colonial governments and the parties to the civil war. Secondly, the political identities discussed in this paper developed partly in the context of state-formation, and partly in the context of state collapse. These differences do not, however, make Mamdani’s concept inapplicable, but rather help to expand it. Political identities manifest themselves in northern Somalia today as the product of cumulative political conflict and violence, from the time of the anti-colonial uprising of Sayid Maxamed Cabdille Xassan 1899–1920 (see, for e.g. Hess 1968; Sheikh-‘Abdi 1993), up to the struggle of the Somali guerrilla movements in the 1980s and 1990s (see Compagnon 1990; Prunier 1995). A basic understanding of the history and the most salient aspects of political identities in Somalia can be grasped from the literature. According to the classic accounts of northern Somali society (Burton 1987 [1856]; Lewis 1961), patrilinear descent (tol in Somali), Somali customary law (xeer) and Islamic prescriptions were the fundamental principles of social organisation in pre-colonial Somalia. Samatar (1989: 152ff.; 1992: 633–41) and Kapteijns (1994: 220ff.) argue that this basis of society was transformed during colonial and post-colonial times in the context of political and economic change. According to their accounts, descent was increasingly detached from xeer and religion and was, especially under Siyad Barre, manipulated by power-hungry elites. They analyse this process as ‘clanism’. Kapteijns (1995: 258) states that clanism emerged in the colonial era ‘from specific struggles for power not only between the colonial state and local Somali leaders but also among Somali leaders themselves as they operated within (and manipulated) colonial realities’. These struggles continued in post-colonial times. In my view these are the dynamics to which the development of political identities in Somalia can be traced. The forging of mutually exclusive political identities accelerated in the days of fratricide in the Somali civil war, in the late 1980s in northern Somalia and the early 1990s in southern Somalia (see Africa Watch 1990; Human Rights Watch 1995: 22ff.), and continues today in the conflict between Somaliland and Puntland in northern Somalia. Against this background, this short paper focuses on the most recent phase of political identity-formation in northern Somalia. Identities are very flexible in this setting, due to the common practice of ‘climbing up’ or ‘down’ the chain of male ancestors, on which the segmentary lineage system of Somali society is built. However, this kind of cultural identity, to use Mamdani’s phrase, does not contradict the existence of political identities. Segmentary identities, such as clan family, clan and sub-clan are different from the political identity described above, even though in the Somali case they can be incorporated into it. It is nevertheless important to see political identities as non-static. Mamdani describes the formation of political identities as a process and, as is known from cases of Hutu–Tutsi massacres, the final separation of Hutu and Tutsi at the local level often happened in the very act of killing (Appadurai 1998: 232ff.; Malkki 1995: 78ff.). This was when bonds of neighbourhood, friendship and affinal ties and so on were finally cut. In everyday life, political identities are characterised by a certain flexibility and openness. Mamdani (2001: 20) states that cultural, economic and political identities can overlap significantly. However, flexibility vanishes when violence comes into play. There follows a brief outline of the current political situation in northern Somalia. Then I describe two identity clusters, which form the basis of political identities in this setting. By showing how these identities are expressed, certain internal contradictions regarding the political claims and the exclusiveness of each cluster become obvious. These contradictions are partly due to, and partly the basis for, cross-cutting ties, and facilitate peaceful cohabitation in the region. However, in the case of serious political and military conflict, these crosscutting ties are cut and mutually exclusive blocks confront each other. - Somaliland is presented by the government in Hargeysa as an independent state, which seceded from the rest of Somalia in the borders of the former British Protectorate. Its inhabitants belong to different clan families: Waqooyi-Galbeed, Awdal and Northcentral/Northeastern. The Somaliland government claims international recognition for its country on the basis of the clearly demarcated former colonial borders and the support of the majority of the population for independence, which was expressed in the approval of the Somaliland constitution in a public referendum in 2001 (Somaliland 2002). In the context of politics the term ‘Somalilander’ is used by local politicians and by other people pointing to the viability of Somaliland as a nation state borne by a nascent Somaliland national identity. Puntland is, according to its constitution, part of the Somali state and works towards rebuilding the Somali government. The government in Garowe is based on an alliance of different Northcentral/Northeastern clans, such as Bosaso, Neo-Darwiish and Maakhir (Battera 1999).7 Apart from this genealogical identity, the Somali national identity is adhered to. People supporting Puntland very rarely refer to themselves as ‘Puntlanders’. Mostly they use the term ‘Somali’ when speaking about their nationality. These different positions conflict most severely with regard to, and also in, the Northcentral/Northeastern inhabited regions of Sool and Sanaag, which are, depending on one’s political position, in eastern Somaliland or western Puntland. These regions are claimed by each of the two governments in northern Somalia. The propaganda issued in the political centres, but also discussions about and manifestations of political identity in daily life, reflect the tensions between the Somaliland and the Puntlander/Somali identity in the study area. Hargeysa/Central West Somaliland General setting Mostly Waqooyi-Galbeed live in the central west of Somaliland. The Waqooyi-Galbeed are the majority clan family in Somaliland and in colonial times were closely linked to the British. When Somaliland gained its independence on 26 June 1960 political power was in the hands of the Waqooyi-Galbeed. Following unification with the south on 1 July 1960, however, the Waqooyi-Galbeed became politically marginalised, and most social and economic developments took place in the south. This resulted in a large-scale migration of people from northwest Somalia to southern Somalia to obtain higher education and in pursuit of work. The uneasy relationship with the government in Moqdishu, especially under the military dictator Siyad Barre, finally led to the formation of the Somali National Movement (SNM) in 1981. This guerrilla organisation was mostly Waqooyi-Galbeed based. After the SNM had taken control over the northwest in the context of a general collapse of the state in early 1991, the independence of Somaliland was proclaimed at a conference of all clans living in the region held in Burco. In the last 15 years peace has been restored and a government with its seat in Hargeysa established; since 2001 serious steps have been undertaken to transform the clan-based system of governance into a more democratic system. Expression of identity In early February 2004, a delegation of British parliamentarians arrived in Hargeysa for a 24-hour visit to Somaliland. A splendid welcome was staged at the airport. About two hundred people filled the margins of the airstrip at nine in the morning. In anticipation of the arrival of the plane in 2 hours time, Foreign Minister Edna Aaden and Minister for Information Cabdullahi Maxamed Du’aale, assisted by some policemen and women, organised the show. Girls wearing dresses resembling traditional Somali women’s wear were put in line to the right and left of the estimated landing place. The traditional white of the dress had been replaced by the green, white and red of the Somaliland flag. The girls started singing and dancing to the monotonous beat of their drums long before the arrival of the delegation. In the centre stood a group of men consisting mostly of members of the bicameral Somaliland Parliament in which elders and representatives represent the clans and regions of Somaliland. A handful of World War II veterans decorated with British medals also took their positions. The scene was completed by the presence of John Drysdale, the oldest British resident of Somaliland, who has been involved in Somali affairs since colonial times. Among the participants masses of posters with the Somaliland flag and a picture of Queen Elisabeth II were distributed. The headline on the Queen’s poster was: ‘The Queen, our mother’. Some people held large banners with messages referring to the long-standing British–Somaliland friendship and to the recent history of Somaliland. Journalists swept the place photographing and filming the parade. In the background an armada of new four-wheel drives waited to take the VIPs to the city. When the parliamentarians arrived, Edna Aaden and the Minister for Information first received them. Some girls stepped forward and decorated the guests with wreaths of flowers. Following this, Edna Aaden led the group along the masses, whilst the girls danced and sang and the men greeted the guests. Brief conversations were held with the members of the Somaliland Parliament, the war veterans and of course, with John Drysdale. After 15 minutes of shaking hands and posing for the cameras of the journalists, the guests together with the more important participants in the event were carried away by the waiting cars. Along the way to the city spectators had gathered shouting and gesticulating at every car that came from the airport. The police blocked the main roads in the centre of Hargeysa and only government vehicles were allowed to proceed. The event was interesting with regard to which aspects of the Somaliland identity were presented and which were neglected. It was striking how openly the memory of the colonial past was revived. Looking at the scene one could almost think that Somaliland was still a British Protectorate, and indeed, strove after British protection. Not in the sense that the British government should take control of Somaliland once again, but in the sense that London should protect and facilitate Somaliland’s way to international recognition. An amusing example for the direct relation of the ‘airport choreography’ and this political agenda could be read in the papers the following day: it was reported that the war veterans had asked the visitors for their pensions as former British soldiers; however, the veterans assured them that they would happily renounce their claims if the British government would recognise Somaliland. The second theme of the event was the achievements of the Republic of Somaliland since its establishment. The peace and stability of the country were represented by the masses of girls dancing and singing and the absence of any great number of security forces. The ministers and the members of the Somaliland Parliament stood for what has been accomplished politically so far, almost without external help. The idea behind this was simple: the only thing Somaliland is renowned for internationally is its peacefulness and the innovative way in which a new political system has been established. This distinguishes it from the rest of Somalia, where heavy fighting still flares up occasionally Equally important to what was presented at the airport is what was omitted. The 30 years in which the north and the south of Somalia were one country were hidden. The logic behind this huge historical gap is that any relationship with southern Somalia except economic cooperation is an obstacle to Somaliland’s claim to be an independent country deserving international recognition. But this historical omission leads to contradictions with regard to the experiences of the older generation. People over 40, in particular, remember Somalia as it was in the 1960s and 1970s, with a strong national army and widespread international relations. Some of these older Somalis, including some of the active SNM fighters, prefer a future reunion with the south to the independence of Somaliland. They argue that the economy of Somaliland is weak and the number of its people too few to defend itself against potential enemies such as Ethiopia. In their view, economic development and independence based on military power can only be reached together with the Somalis in the south, who are their brothers and sisters, even if split by civil war. Furthermore, at the airport no reference was made to the SNM and its long and bloody war against the former Somali regime. This is consistent with the current political line of the Somaliland government. The SNM has had its role in the past, but now civilians have succeeded to the rule of the guerrillas, who were almost exclusively Waqooyi-Galbeed. Somaliland today is eager to present itself as a multi-clan state where peace reigns. Efforts were made to efface the intra- and inter-clan warfare, which dominated the guerrilla war and the first years following secession from Somalia. But in fact some of the old inter-clan and political tensions prevail. When politics are discussed in the market of Hargeysa, members of the Dclan family (including the Northcentral/Northeastern clans) are refered to as ‘fa-qash’. The same term is used for people who had positions in the former Somali government in general, including Waqooyi-Galbeed, many of whom have high-ranking positions in the current Somaliland government. ‘Fa-qash’ is translated by Hashi (1998: 170) as ‘a Dirty or corrupt person; filth’. Laascaanood/eastern Somaliland–western Puntland General setting Laascaanood is the capital of the Sool region. Neo-Darwiish, a branch of the Northcentral/Northeastern clan, almost exclusively inhabits Sool. In the early twentieth century the area was the setting for an anti-colonial uprising led by the Oga-den sheikh, poet and politician Maxamed Cabdille Xassan. His followers were called Dervishes (Daraawiishta), the majority of whom were Neo-Darwiish. They fought mostly against the British, aided by Waqooyi-Galbeed troops. Following the defeat of the Dervishes in 1921, the Neo-Darwiish area was effectively incorporated in the British Protectorate. In the 1970s and 1980s, most Neo-Darwiish, being Dclan, supported the regime of Siyad Barre, who belonged to the Gedo clan of the Dclan family. A further factor strengthening this alliance was the appointment of Axmed Suleban ‘Daffle’, a Neo-Darwiish, as the head of the National Security Service (NSS), making him one of the most powerful men in the state. Until 1991 the clan fought on the side of the government against the guerrillas. When the SNM took over most of the northwest of Somalia, the representatives of the Neo-Darwiish agreed on peace with the Waqooyi-Galbeed. But the majority of the clan did not accept the programme of secession from Somalia agreed on in Burco. In the years that followed the social and political progress of Somaliland was achieved while excluding the Sool region and largely without the participation of the Neo-Darwiish . In opposition to Hargeysa, the Neo-Darwiish played a prominent role in the establishment of Puntland as a Northcentral/Northeastern state in northeast Somalia in 1998. A Neo-Darwiish was made vice president, and the Neo-Darwiish thus became the second power after the Bosaso, the ‘older’ Northcentral/Northeastern brother. The inhabitants of the Sool region have since been split between Somaliland and Puntland. Expression of identity I first met Xassan in Laascaanood in November 2003. He was a Neo-Darwiish, who at the time of our meeting had come only for a visit to Laascaanood. He came from Garowe, the capital of Puntland, where he worked as a high-ranking member of the government. Xassan invited me to visit him in Garowe. I accepted his invitation and spent about a week with him. We talked, among other things, about Dervish history. Xassan told me of his family’s, the Bihidarays, conflict with Maxamed Cabdille Xassan during which the Dervishes massacred several of the Bihidarays men. In reaction to this his family had allied with the British and was involved in one of the most devastating defeats of the Dervishes in a place called Jidbaale in the western Sool region. As Xassan put it: ‘we defeated him [Maxamed Cabdille Xassan] in Jidbaale’. According to Xassan a man called Cawke ‘Jabane’ (Cawke Cabdi Aaden), the leader of Bihidarays in those days, advised the British on how to deal with the Dervishes, including the tactics that later led to their defeat. Some days later as Xassan and I walked the streets, and his mood was jollier, he began to sing poems composed by Maxamed Cabille Xassan. I asked him about that and he answered: ‘I am a Dervish!’ I was told that Xassan was one of the men who had organised the attack against the Somaliland President Dahir Rayaale Kahin in Laascaanood in December 2002. This attack is one of the recent heroic tales told by Puntland hardliners in Laascaanood, and I was very interested in researching it further. Xassan confirmed that he had been involved in this event and gave me an outline of what had happened. Dahir Rayaale Kahin visited Laascaanood on 7 December 2002; hardly anyone in Somaliland or Puntland was informed about this. More than a dozen ‘technicals’ (pick-up trucks mounting heavy machine guns) and about 200 soldiers accompanied the president. In the town several Somaliland followers had organised a number of local forces. The visit was unprecedented; no Somaliland president had previously dared to step foot in Sool. Puntland had to react, even if totally unprepared. Xassan together with some other Neo-Darwiish politicians collected a force of three technicals and led them from Garowe to Laascaanood. In the early afternoon they passed the eastern checkpoint of Laascaanood without being stopped by the local forces posted to guard the place for Somaliland; the soldiers at the checkpoint were closely related to Xassan. As they entered the town the Puntland forces immediately opened fire, to the utter shock of the Somaliland troops. Following a fierce exchange of fire lasting about 15 minutes, the Somaliland president ordered his troops to retreat. He feared a general uprising of the Puntland followers in town and wanted to avoid bloodshed among civilians. The president left Laascaanood hastily and retreated to Caynabo, a district town in western Sool where Waqooyi-Galbeed are predominant. On the side of Puntland, this rather chaotic operation was hailed as a great victory. Shocked by the event Daahir Raayale Kahin ordered his local shadow administration to leave Laascaanood in the following months. This paved the way for the effective occupation of the regional capital by Puntland one year later, in December 2003. The next time I saw Xassan was in Laascaanood in late January 2004. He told me that he would remain in town for the next few months as a member of the new Puntland administration. I was astonished to hear three weeks later that Xassan had deserted the Puntland camp and come to Hargeysa, where he had been received well. That a high-ranking member of the administration of the ‘enemy’ had switched sides was celebrated as a victory for Somaliland in the newspapers in Hargeysa. In March I had a chance to meet Xassan in the capital of Somaliland. When I asked him about his change of mind, he said that he had had a disagreement with the Puntland leadership about politics in Sool. In Xassan’s view, Puntland just pushed more and more soldiers into the region, which burdened the already low economy of the state (Puntland) and provoked a military confrontation with Somaliland. An escalation of violence in Laascaanood and Sool would only cause mayhem among the local population, which was already in the grip of a severe drought. There was a more personal reason behind Xassan’s decision to leave Puntland, however. He had not received his salary for about six months, and neither had most of the members of the administration and the army. Furthermore, he felt inadequate and uninspired under the dictatorial rule of President Cabdullahi Yusuf. This is admittedly an extreme episode, and is also limited to Laascaanood and the Sool regions. Nevertheless, it reveals some important aspects of the political identity of many inhabitants of the region, including some contradictions. To call oneself ‘Dervish’ has two meanings in the current political context of the Sool region, both of which can be located in history. Firstly, in the post-colonial years Maxamed Cabdille Xassan was forged as a national hero who fought with his troops for the political unity of all Somalis. To claim to be a Dervish today refers to the vision of building a strong Somali state united once more, against the secessionism of the Waqooyi-Galbeed, as many Neo-Darwiish see it. Secondly, Maxamed Cabdille Xassan’s contribution extended further than anti-colonial resistance. As oral and written accounts show, he also fought for power in northern Somalia against traditional rulers and their clans, such as Boqor Cusman, the ‘king’ of the Bosaso, the clan currently dominating Puntland politics. Today the term ‘Dervish’ gives an identity to the Neo-Darwiish in Sool who belong neither to Somaliland nor to Puntland. Due to this indefinite position, Sool is one of the least developed regions in northern Somalia. Only one international organisation has a permanent presence there, and not much comes from either Hargeysa or Garowe. Apart from the heroic tales of the Dervish struggle, the cultural heritage left by Maxamed Cabdille Xassan as a poet is a source of pride for the impoverished Dervishes of today. Neo-Darwiish today monopolise the Dervish history and use it for political reasons, to distinguish themselves as the ‘Somali’ Neo-Darwiish from the ‘British’ Waqooyi-Galbeed. This aspect of political identity, condensed to ‘everyday propaganda’, can be summarised as follows: while the Waqooyi-Galbeed clans have been allies of the British in the colonial past and today call upon them to back their ambitions of separating from Somalia, the Neo-Darwiish have always remained loyal Somali ‘nationalists’. This contradicts the more realistic and locally well-known accounts of the history of numerous individuals and families. A good number of Neo-Darwiish in fact deserted Maxamed Cabdille Xassan’s camp and joined the British, while some Waqooyi-Galbeed, especially in the first years of the uprising, joined the Dervishes. Xassan’s story also reveals the feeble nature of the loyalty of many Neo-Darwiish to either state, which is largely determined by material gain of some sort (e.g. a salary or an aid project) from the Somaliland or the Puntland side. When, however, the conflict between Somaliland and Puntland escalates, most Neo-Darwiish ally with their Northcentral/Northeastern brothers. This is clearly demonstrated by the defeat of the Somaliland president in Laascaanood. Northcentral/Northeastern politicians try to forge a ‘natural’ divide between the Waqooyi-Galbeed on the one side and the different Northcentral/Northeastern clans on the other. They therefore have to neglect the cultural and social closeness which developed under British rule between the Neo-Darwiish and the Waqooyi-Galbeed. Members of these two groups studied together in school, and served together as clerks, soldiers or policemen under the British administration. They internalised the ‘British system’, which was distinct from the ‘Italian system’ that the Bosaso and the other former Italian colonial subjects had internalised. On a more local level, intermarriage patterns reveal intensive relations between Neo-Darwiish and Waqooyi-Galbeed clans who have lived for decades as neighbours in the central and northeastern regions of Somaliland. Intermarriage with the Bosaso is not as strong, as many Neo-Darwiish admit freely. Neo-Darwiish elders, asked about what relates their clan to the Waqooyi-Galbeed, quite often reply: ‘Waa isku degaan, waa isku dhaqan; waanu is dhalnay.’ (‘We live in the same area, we have the same culture; we gave birth to each other.’) The desertion of Xassan from Puntland to Somaliland is only partly representative, even if there are similar cases among the Neo-Darwiish highlighting their political flexibility, such as the former speaker of the Parliament in Hargeysa, who deserted Somaliland and became minister of interior in Puntland. However, what might manifest as extreme shifts at the level of politicians, points to a more basic pattern among ordinary people. Many Neo-Darwiish are indeed suspicious of the dictatorial ruling style of the old soldier and warlord Cabdullahi Yusuf. They need him to defend them against complete incorporation into Somaliland, but do not want him to take full control of their affairs. Clearly a number of Neo-Darwiish try to benefit economically from this ambiguity. Some work as politicians or soldiers for the government in Hargeysa, and others for the government in Garowe. The explanation given is that this is merely a pragmatic arrangement, which does not express political beliefs. What matters most is to generate some income in a poor region; politically one does not want to get involved in any trouble. But this obviously does not always work out. When Puntland forces finally entered Laascaanood in a police operation in December 2003, their presence was discreetly criticised by a number of people in town. However, the forces stayed and were massively reinforced by troops in the course of establishing a military administration. In this situation, the uneasiness with domination did not cause the majority of the Neo-Darwiish to switch sides and fully support Somaliland. On the contrary, the Puntland military administration was gradually transformed into a civil administration, which is currently relatively well established in Laascaanood. The main reason for this is that Puntland represents the vision of a re-united Somalia. This fits well with the political attitude of many Neo-Darwiish, who take pride in being the ones holding secessionist Somaliland and war-torn Somalia together. Both de facto state administrations in northern Somalia exploit a variety of different identity markers, based on the everyday or collectively remembered experience of the people living in the greater region, for their political purposes. Hargeysa stresses the common colonial history, which led to a cultural closeness of the people from the former Protectorate of Somaliland, and the inclusive peace process in the 1990s, to incorporate non-Waqooyi-Galbeed into Somaliland. Thereby a political identity–Somalilander–was constructed from above. However, this only works because it relates to certain realities on the ground, where people had similar experiences under British colonial rule, later suffered from and fought in the civil war, and, after a phase of desperation, saw new opportunities for themselves in Somaliland, especially in its prospering capital. Yet, even among the Waqooyi-Galbeed, to whom most of the features of the Somaliland political identity apply, not everyone complies with the policies of the government in Hargeysa. It is hardly astonishing that the Northcentral/Northeastern in Sool (and Sanaag) who in the perspective of Hargeysa belong to Somaliland, without sharing most of these preconditions, are distant from the self-declared Republic. This distance has its deeper roots in a genuine, historically and culturally based reluctance of the Northcentral/Northeastern clans to become fully integrated. Over the years this has given a comparatively lower political profile to the Northcentral/Northeastern in Hargeysa, as well as the absence of an effective Somaliland administration and the stagnation of development in the regions they inhabit. Garowe is eager to attract the Neo-Darwiish and Maakhir as Northcentral/Northeastern brothers by granting them a clan-balanced share in the government, and by adhering to the vision of a united (but federal) Somalia. With the exception of a few individuals, all Neo-Darwiish with whom I spoke about the political future of the Somali shared this vision. By sabotaging the full integration of Somaliland in its colonial borders, Puntland politicians hope to prevent its definitive split from Somalia. Nevertheless, historical events as well as social and cultural practices divide the Northcentral/Northeastern along the former colonial division. Furthermore, two internal political problems of Puntland restrict its political success. Firstly, despite its ‘clan-democratic’ constitution, Puntland still resembles a military dictatorship, in which not much can be done against the will of Col. Cabdullahi Yusuf and his close family. Secondly, due to severe corruption in the government and the very high cost of the Puntland delegation to the Somali peace conference in Mbagathi/Nairobi, the administration is chronically short of money; when even members of the government, the armed forces and the civil administration get their salaries very irregularly or not at all, not much can be given to the communities in the contested Northcentral/Northeastern regions to firmly link them to Puntland. It is clear that the political identities presented in this paper are not ‘invented’. They have, to rephrase Schlee (2004: 148), ‘a certain reality about them, [especially] in the sense of having real effects’. As long as the two administrations in northern Somalia and their followers play their political games without reaching a definitive political conclusion, individuals and groups can manoeuvre. Thus a clash of political identities can be avoided, due to the inconsistencies and contradictions inside the identity clusters which result from and in turn reinforce the cross-cutting ties between them. Peace can be kept in normal life, even if the incompatible positions between ‘Somalilanders’ and the adherents of Puntland/Somalia come to the fore in discussions. However, when either the Somaliland or the Puntland side tries to enforce its policy on the ground, the territorial and mental borders of the political identities close, and serious tensions escalate to the level of military confrontation. This happened on 29 October 2004, when Somaliland and Puntland forces clashed in the countryside near the village of Adhiadeye, about 30 km northeast of Lasscaanood. About 15 soldiers were killed on each side, and several dozen were wounded. Immediately after this event the political climate on the ground worsened, and even people who had previously had a tolerant political position, became extreme in their support for either Somaliland or Puntland. Staying in Hargeysa in October and November 2004, I could observe that the borders of the identity clusters closed; for several nights Waqooyi-Galbeed neighbours threw stones at the houses of a Neo-Darwiish member of the House of Representatives of Somaliland, who had lived with his family in the city for years. In reaction to this the family left Hargeysa for Lasscaanood, which was safe according to genealogical logic. This was not an isolated case. To be a Neo-Darwiish became an accusation in Hargeysa in those days, regardless of one’s personal background. So far the process of state-formation in northern Somalia is basically limited to the core regions of each of the two political entities in the study area. Further endeavours to set up a fully effective state (be it Somaliland or Puntland/Somalia) recognised under international law may produce a large-scale armed conflict.

After reading this post by resident trol Castro, I decided to look at Arab views on Black people. Well here it is enjoy. Originally posted by Castro: ^ You're gonna love this. This is what one Arab dude posted on the Al-Arabiya website in response to a news report about the ICU applying a form of Sharia to punish those accused of "bad" behavior. First the original Arabic then my translation of it: من اولى هؤلاء الجهلة وحوش مجاهل اÙريقيا وآكلة لحوم البشر تطبيق الشريعة ØŒ والعجب من معلق يقول انه تطبيق الشريعة السمحاء !!!!!!!! Ùأين السماح واين الرحمة اذا ما تولى الجهلة شؤون الاسلام ØŒ وليعلم هؤلا الÙاسقون ومن يؤيدهم ان من يحق له تقدير تطبيق الشريعة بحوهرها ووÙÙ‚ غاياتها السامية هم العلماء والمتعمقون ÙÙŠ الشرع وليس جهلة الصومال ØŒ Ùلا شك ان الشريعة التي يطبقوها هي شريعة الغاب وليس شريعة الاسلام ØŒ ونسأل بعد هذا لماذا يحتقر الغرب ديننا ونبينا وشعوبنا ؟؟؟؟؟ Ùاننا والله قد نصل الى زمن نخجل بالقول اننا مسلمون اذا بقي هؤلاء يستخدمون اسم الاسلام ويدعون انهم مسلمون ØŒ ÙليرÙع الغطاء الاسلامي عن هؤلاء المجرمين وليطلق عليهم اسم لا يمت الى الاسلام لانهم هم لا يمتون الى الاسلام بشيء ØŒ كما اقترح على الدول العربية ان تخرج الصومال من جامعتها ØŒ ولتعلن صراحة تبرؤها من هؤلاء ØŒ ليبقى الاسلام العربي عزيزا Ù‹ محترما Ù‹ لا يلوثه هؤلاء المرتزقة بسمومهم ولنميز اسلامنا الحقيقي عن اسلام هؤلاء المناÙقين ØŒ ولنتذكر ان نبينا كان عربيا Ù‹ وليس مغوليا Ù‹ اÙغانيا Ù‹ ولا زنجيا Ù‹ صوماليا Ù‹ Ùمن اولى واجباتنا نحن العرب احÙاد محمد ( ص) ان ننشر الاسلام الحقيقي لا ان نغض الطر٠كي نستورد ما يسمى زورا Ù‹ بالاسلام من طالبان ومحاكم تÙتيش الصومال ØŒ Ùليكن جواب الامة العربية لهؤلاء ` لكم اسلامكم ولي اسلامي ` Ùكما قيل ان الاسلام سينتهي كما بدأ غريبا Ù‹ ØŒ وهل اشد غربة وغرابة مما الحقه هؤلاء بالاسلام ؟؟؟؟؟؟؟ وشكرا Ù‹ لرحابة صدر العربية .......... والسلام Who are these cannibal ignoramus of Africa to apply the Sharia law? And they even claim to apply forgiving Sharia??? Where is the mercy and where is the forgiveness when the ignorant have taken over the matters of Islam. And let these transgressors and their supporters know that only scholars who have studied jurisprudence in depth can apply the Sharia and not the ignorant of Somalia. There is no doubt the law they apply is that of the jungle and not the Sharia of Islam. And we wonder then why the West despises our religion, our prophet and our peoples. We could truly reach a time we are embarrassed to call ourselves Muslim if we allow these people to continue calling themselves Muslims and use the name of Islam. Let the cover of Islam be lifted from these criminals and let them be called a name that has no relation to Islam for they have no relation to Islam. And as was suggested to the Arab nations to kick Somalia out of their league and to disown them. And let Islam remain Arabic and honorable not soiled with the poison of these mercenaries. And let us distinguish our true Islam from the practice of these hypocrites. And let us remember that our prophet was an Arab and not a Mongolian Afghan or a Somali Negro. The greatest duty for us Arabs, the grandchildren of Muhammad (SCW), is to spread the true Islam and not get distracted while we import this forgery of Islam from the Taliban and these searching Courts of Somalia. Let the response of the nation to them be "to you your Islam and to us ours". As it was said Islam will start strange and end as it began, is there anything stranger or more foreign than what these groups have done to Islam? And we have one fool around here claiming he's more Arab than the Arabs themselves. :rolleyes: Al-Arabiya ARAB VIEWS OF BLACK AFRICANS AND SLAVERY by John Hunwick Black Africans were the earliest type of slave known to Arabs, and were the latest imported into the Arab-Islamic Middle East. One of the very first black Africans known to have been in slavery in the Arabian Peninsula, and to have become one of the first converts to Islam, was the Abyssinian called Bilal [b. RabaË›], who was owned and then freed by Abü Bakr, the Prophet MuË›ammad's father-inlaw and later successor, to whom he gave his freed slave, who then accepted the Prophet's message and was given the position of muezzin - "caller to prayer" by MuË›ammad. Soon after North Africa was occupied by Arab Muslim armies in the late 7th century, black Africans were traded over the Sahara, and bought by Arab merchants as slaves - a practice which continued down to the early 20th century. However, Arabs had no grounds for assuming that all black people were justifiably to be seen as slaves. The only enslaveable persons were those defeated in battle against Muslims.The basis of this may be gathered from what the Qur"!n said to the Prophet MuË›ammad in defining what women it was lawful for him to live with: "We have made lawful unto thee... .those whom thy right hand possesseth of those whom Allah hath given thee as spoils of war". So it was captives in battle who might be "owned"- in this case females, but later applied to both females and males. Since war could not be fought against other Muslims, only "unbelievers" (kuff!r) could be captured and held onto as slaves, and no consideration was ever given in Islamic teachings to what color of skin made people enslaveable unbelievers. While the Qur"!n recognizes that human beings are of many different types: "We established you as peoples and clans, so you may know one another", and then defines the most honored as the most devout, i.e. no ethnic group is automatically favored by All!h. Commenting on this, the Prophet MuË›ammad said; "“White has no preference over black, nor black over white, except through devoutnessâ€. On another occasion the Prophet is said to have said: "The Arab has no virtue over the non-Arab, nor has the non-Arab over the Arab, nor has the White over the Black, or the Black over the White except in terms of devotion to God. Surely, the noblest of you in God’s sight is the most devout." Such teachings, however, did not fully influence Arab minds over their views of black Africans. The first century and a half of Islam, as the Arabs went forth from the Arabian peninsula to conquer half of the known world, was marked by an overwhelming sense of Arab superiority over all other peoples. In this period even to become a Muslim one had to become a sort of fictive Arab by being adopted as the client of an Arab tribe. The conquered peoples as a whole were in fact referred to as the ‘clients’ (maw‹alı), and Islam was viewed as the property of the Arabs. This, in turn, produced a reaction among the conquered peoples who rose to defend themselves and declare their equality with Arabs, using the adopted Arabic language to express themselves, and often adopting heterodox forms of Islam as the symbol of their opposition to Arab dominion. This had varying results. In the central lands of the Middle East populations ‘became Arab’ over the centuries. Speakers of languages such as Coptic in Egypt, Syriac and Aramaic in Syria and Palestine and Chaldean in Iraq adopted Arabic as their language of learning and of daily speech and, by and large, adopted Arab manners, customs and ways of thinking. Farther east the Iranians defiantly stuck to their ancient tongue in daily speech and much of their literature and created a distinctly Iranian Islamic culture . In the West the Berbers of North Africa either became arabised or, if they clung to their indigenous language and culture, became largely marginalised. Equality of the believers, then could have different practical expressions. What, then, did it mean for black Africans? On this I will begin with a quotation from the writings of Bernard Lewis, one of the few contemporary scholars to deal with issues of race and color in Islam: While the exponents of religion preached a doctrine of equality, albeit in somewhat ambiguous terms, the facts of life determined otherwise. Prevailing attitudes were shaped not by preachers and relaters of tradition but by the conquerors and slave owners who formed the ruling group in Islamic society. The resulting attitude of contempt—towards non-Arabs in general and toward the dark-skinned in particular—is expressed in a thousand ways in the documents, literature, and art that have come down to us from the Islamic Middle Ages...This literature and, especially, popular literature depicts [the black man] in the form of hostile stereotypes—as a demon in fairy tales, as a savage in stories of travel and adventure, or commonly as a lazy, ****** , evil-smelling and lecherous slave. The evidence of literature is confirmed by art. In Arab, Persian and Turkish paintings blacks frequently appear, sometimes as mythological figures of evil, sometimes as primitives or performing some other menial task, or as eunuchs in the palace or in the household. Yet in spite of these attitudes and the resulting disabilities imposed upon men of African birth, they nevertheless managed to make a significant contribution to mediaeval Islamic civilization—and not only in their labour and services. Beginning with the last point Professor Lewis makes: the contribution made by men of African birth to medieval Islamic civilisation, let us examine the extent to which prejudice against them may have restricted their opportunities for making such contributions. The Arabs had black Africans living among them from before the days of Islam—mainly, it would appear as slaves. Some of the African women bore children from Arab fathers but the males among them seem to have had some trouble being accepted as full members of the tribe, despite the weight given to patrilineal descent. The sons of African mothers and Arab fathers, as well as slaves who had been given their freedom, were, or became, thoroughly arabised in language and culture and sought to participate with ‘pure-bred’ Arabs on an equal footing. They were often to find, however, that their skin color stood in the way. Some took up the art of poetry, the quintessential Arab medium of artistic expression, and these black poets form the subject of a fascinating book by the Egyptian scholar Abduh Badawı called [in translation] ‘The Black Poets and their Distinctive Characteristics in Arabic Poetry’.(al-Shufiar!" al-s‹ud wakhaß !"i‚suhum fı ‘l-shifir al-fiarabı) These poets were often known as ‘the ravens of the Arabs’ (aghribat al-fiarab) because of their black color, and as one satirist pointed out, ravens were traditionally considered bad omens, and were especially associated with the parting of lovers. On the relationship of their color to their social status and to their poetic art, Badawı has this to say: There was a sharp sensitivity over color among the black poets before Islam. This was because they were a depressed and downtrodden group and because they were excluded, sometimes roughly, sometimes gently, from entering the social fabric of the tribe. Thus they lived on the edge of society as a poor and depressed group. They were only acknowledged under conditions of extreme pressure, as we know from the life of [the poet] Antara. Although this poet was the defender of his tribe and its supreme poetical voice, his own tribe’s attitude towards him continued to pain him and weigh on his mind. The name ‘son of a black woman’ stuck to him, even when returning from victory in battle. Although the tone of uneasiness becomes softened among the poets of the time of the Prophet as a result of Islam’s raising the morale of the black man, yet the sensitivity over color is not altogether different. The poets saw themselves and their people as downtrodden and although this sense of being downtrodden varied from century to century and from poet to poet, yet the black man could not refrain from being a voice of protest against the life around him and the tragedy of his own situation. Later we see [black poets] exploding in the face of those who allude to their color as may be seen in the poetry of the ‘three angry poets’ al- ˘ayqu‚†!n, SunayË› & fiAkım [of the early 8th century]. For them it was not enough just to defend themselves. We see them taking pride in their blackness and in the history of black people and the lands they came from and attacking the Arabs on the points on which they prided themselves. [End of quotation] Here ia an example of this. One of these poets who was insulted in some obscene verses by the Arab poet Jarır responded in the following way: Though I be frizzle-haired, coal-black of skin, My generosity and honor shine yet brighter. Blackness of skin does me no harm When in battle’s heat my sword is flailing. Would you claim glory where there is none? The Ethiopians are more glorious than you.7 As contacts with sub-Saharan Africa expanded, Arabs in the broadest sense simply labeled such populations as südan, i.e. “blacks", though peoples from some regions of Africa who were taken into the Middle East in slavery were given broad ethnic labels such as the Zanj from East Africa or the Habasha/ Abyssinians from the Horn of Africa. Eventually some Arab writers made attempts to draw up an ethnography, relating “peoples†they had encountered to some scheme of humanity they were familiar with, initially grounded in what they viewed as religious authority. Wahb b. Munabbih, a south Arabian of part Persian origin (d. 728), who was considered an expert in Jewish legend (isr!"ıliyy!t), is credited the following statement: Ham, the son of Noah was a white man, fair of face. God—Mighty and Exalted is He —changed his color and the color of his descendants because of the curse of his father. He went off and his offspring followed him and they settled on the sea shore. God increased and multiplied them, and they are the Blacks (al-süd!n). Not only were black Africans thought to be descendants of Ham through the curse of Noah, punishing Ham for observing his father’s nakedness as he bathed, but it also came to be believed that, in accordance with the account in the Old Testament or the Torah, the punishment made Ham and his descendants slaves of his brothers Shem and Japheth and their descendants, i.e. Arabs, Europeans, and central Asians. In fact the Old Testament and the Torah do not say Ham was turned black, but Arab thinking began to equate blackness with slavery. Another theorization of the nature of black people of Africa also charterized them as inferior beings based on a Greek view of the climatization of the known world and the relationship of climate to intelligence. This theory divided the world north of the equator into seven latitudinal zones, the ideal one being the 4th or middle zone corresponding to the Mediterranean area, while the farther one got away from this zone, the more extreme the climate became, and the less civilized its inhabitants. The great 14th century historian Ibn Khaldun did not find acceptable the theory of blackness being related to descent from Ham, and denied the soundness of the claim, as follows: Some genealogists who had no knowledge of the true nature of beings imagined that the Blacks are the descendants of Ham, the son of Noah, and that they were characterized by black color as a result of a curse put upon him by his father (Noah), which manifested itself in Ham’s color and the slavery that God inflicted upon his descendants. Concerning this they have transmitted an account arising from the legends of the story-tellers. The curse of Noah upon his son is there in the Torah. No reference is made there to blackness. His curse was simply that Ham’s descendants should be the slaves of his brothers’ descendants.9 To attribute the blackness of Negroes to Ham, shows disregard for the nature of heat and cold and the influence they exert upon the air and upon the creatures that come into being in it. On the other hand, Ibn Khaldün fully accepted the theoretical division of the then known world into seven zones. He also basically accepted that this system had built into it a hierarchy of value judgements about the inhabitants of the various areas of the world, though he grappled with how most “scientifically†this could be explained. Mediterranocentric theory had long taught that extreme heat in zone 1 and extreme cold in zone 7 produced distorted and savage human beings. As one got farther away from these regions, so climates became more moderate and people more civilized. It is not difficult to see where this led to. As already observed, the 4th zone, which was right in the middle of the seven, and hence the most moderate in its climate and the most civilized in its inhabitants, was the Mediterranean zone. This view of the world can be illustrated by two quotations from earlier authors. The first is a Persian geographer of the early tenth century [ibn al-Faqıh al-Hamadh!nı] who quotes someone whom he merely describes as “a man of discernment†in regard to Iraqis: The people of Iraq have sound minds, commendable passions, balanced natures, and high proficiency in every art, together with well- proportioned limbs, well-compounded humors, and a pale brown color, which is the most apt and proper color. They have been well baked in wombs that do not expel them [prematurely] with a blondish or reddish color, with grey-blue eyes and whitish eyebrows such as occurs to the wombs of the Slav women or those like them or comparable to them. The wombs of their women do not overcook them until they are burnt, so that the child comes out something black or pitch-black, malodorous and pungent-smelling, with peppercorn hair, unbalanced limbs, a deficient mind, and depraved passions, such as the Zanj, the Ethiopians, and other blacks who resemble them. The Iraqis are neither unbaked dough nor one cooked and burnt, but between the two. Europeans, then, are seen as unbaked (or half-baked), and Africans as burnt; but while the author seems to hold only the Europeans’ color against them, his description of Africans reveals prejudices which go beyond color and are formulated by racial stereotypes. Descriptions such as ‘malodorous...... with unbalanced limbs, a deficient mind and depraved passions’ include indictments of moral character, but they are not uncommon in writers of the medieval period. a fourteenth century Syrian writer (d. 1327), the geographer Al-Dimashqı, who draws copiously on earlier writers and adds little which is original, echoes some of these prejudices: The equatorial region is inhabited by communities of Blacks who are to be numbered among the savages and beasts. Their complexions and hair are burnt and they are physically and morally deviant. Their brains almost boil from the sun’s excessive heat…… The human being who dwells there is a crude fellow, with a very black complexion, burnt hair, unruly, with stinking sweat, and an abnormal constitution, most closely resembling in his moral qualities a savage, or animals. He cannot dwell in the 2nd zone, let alone the 3rd and 4th, just as the people of the 1st zone live not in the 6th, nor those of the 6th in the 1st, or the equatorial region, because of the difference in the quality of the air and the heat of the sun. God knows best! Later he expands upon this: We shall now give an account of what has been said about the inhabitants of the seven zones in regard to their physique and their moral qualities, and the reasons for this. The 1st zone is from the equator, extending to what lies beyond it and behind it. It contains the following nations: the Zanj, the Süd!n, the ˘abasha, the Nüba, etc. Their blackness is due to the sun . . . Since its heat is extreme and it rises over them and is directly over their heads twice in a year, and remains close to them, it gives them a burning heat, and their hair, pursuant to the natural processes, becomes jet-black, curly and peppercorn-like, closely resembling hair that has been brought close to a fire until it has become scorched. The most convincing proof that it is scorched is that it does not grow any longer. Their skins are hairless and smooth, since the sun cleans the filth from their bodies and draws it out. Their brains have little humidity for similar reasons and hence their intelligence is dim, their thoughts are not sustained, and their minds are inflexible, so that opposites, such a good faith and deceit, honesty and treachery, do not coexist among them. No divinely revealed laws have been found among them, nor has any divine messenger been sent among them, for they are incapable of handling opposites together, whereas divine laws consist of commanding and forbidding, and creating desire and fear. The moral characteristics found in their belief systems are close to the instincts found naturally in animals, which require no learning to bring them out of the realm of potentiality into that of reality, like the braveness to be found in a lion, and the cunning in a fox.13 In an attempt to grapple with some of these stereotypes and explain them in a more scientific fashion, Ibn Khaldün had this to say: We have seen that Negroes are in general characterized by levity, excitability, and great emotionalism. They are found to dance wherever they hear a melody. They are everywhere described as ****** . . . . . Al- Masfiüdı14 undertook to investigate the reason [for this]. However, he did no better than to report on the authority of . . . al-Kindı 15 and J!linüs16 that the reason is a weakness of their brains which results in a weakness of their influence they exert upon the air and upon the creatures that come into being in it. He goes on to explain that heat expands the “animal spirit†(i.e. the emotional side of human nature) and gives the example of the merry drunkard whose animal spirit is heated by wine and the man who breaks into song when immersed in a hot bath. Hence it is to be expected that people who live in hot climates will be merrier than those who live in colder climes, and to make his point he contrasts the “cheerful†Egyptians with the “gloomy†Moroccans. So, though he endorsed the stereotype of the light-hearted, light-footed emotional black African, he sought to deny that such characteristics are due to inherent mental inferiority and to give these alleged racial characteristcs what he considered a “scientific†explanation related to climate. We have come some way from theories about Slavs being undercooked in the womb and black Africans being overdone, but these quote/ unquote “scientific†explanations for color or other characteristics do not alter the fact that in medieval Arab eyes extreme whiteness and extreme darkness of skin were considered aberrations from the norm and were to be connected with extremes of climate These extremes, in turn, were thought responsible for other departures from the “golden mean†which was, by definition, what prevailed in the Mediterranean lands. For all his inquiring mind and his attempt to apply scientific and materialistic principles to the explanation of human behaviour and social organization, Ibn Khaldün still could not escape from the clutches of the ancient theory of the division of the world into seven climatic zones, and in fact sought to use this as a basis for what he thought was a scientific explanation for the alleged characteristics of different peoples. But this was, in reality, nothing more than a new way in which to rationalize stereotypes and to make prejudices respectable. In his celebrated Muqaddima, or “Prolegomena†to his universal history, he gives an explanation for what he (and no doubt the majority of his Arab contemporaries) considered to be the barbarous characteristics of the black Africans of the 1st zone and their reflection in northern Europeans of the 7th: The inhabitants of the zones that are far from temperate, such as the 1st, 2nd, 6th and 7th, are also farther removed from being temperate in all their conditions. Their buildings are of clay and reeds, their foodstuffs are sorghum and herbs. Their clothing is the leaves of trees which they sew together to cover themselves, or animal skins. Most of them go naked. The fruits and seasonings of their countries are strange and inclined to be intemperate. In their business dealings they do not use the two noble metals [silver and gold], but copper, iron, or skins, upon which they set a value for the purpose of business dealings. Their qualities of character, moreover, are close to those of dumb animals. It has even been reported that the Negroes of the first zone dwell in caves and thickets, eat herbs, live in savage isolation, a do not congregate, and eat each other. The same applies to the Slavs[i.e. northern Europeans in general] . The reason for this is that their remoteness from being temperate produces in them a disposition and character similar to those of dumb animals, and they become correspondingly remote from humanity. From this we might understand that Nigerians and Norwegians, or Ghanaians and Germans share parallel traits. He then contrasts the charcteristics of the people of these outer zones with those of the middle zone—the Mediterranean lands—and the two zones adjacent to them: The inhabitants of the middle zones are temperate [i.e. wellbalanced] in their physiques and character and in their ways of life. They have all the natural conditions necessary for a civilized life, such as ways of making a living, dwellings, crafts, sciences, political leadership, and royal authority. Thus they have [the various manifestations of] prophecy, religious groups, dynasties, religious laws, sciences, countries, cities, buildings, horticulture, splendid crafts, and everything else that is well balanced. This passage is remarkably self-congratulatory and, by implication, very dismissive of the peoples whose lands lie outside the middle zones. However, its strict application created paradoxes that forcedIbn Khaldün into some re-thinking and the formulation of a rider to his theory. For him there were two problems. First, Ibn Khaldün knew from both personal experience and historical investigation that his theory about the barbarism of black Africa and its peoples simply did not hold water. He had gathered a great deal of information about the kingdom of Mali and had met men who had had close contacts with the great ruler of Mali, Mansa Müs! during his early 14th century pilgrimage. He had also met other West Africans in various places in North Africa, including emissaries of rulers, and could not comfortably dismiss them and their countries as barbarous. Secondly, it must have been something of an embarrassment to have to admit that the Arabian peninsula, the home of the Arabs and the cradle of Islam, lay partly in the 1st zone and partly in the 2nd zone—regions that were supposed to be, by reason of their harsh climates, zones of barbarism whose people were remote from civilisation and humanity. What new theories could he propound to deal with such contradictions? In regard to the Arabian peninsula he produced a climate modification theory under which it was argued that because the Arabian Peninsula was surrounded by water on three sides, this reduced the dryness of its air and hence the intemperance of character that the dry heat would otherwise cause. As we have seen, a combination of heat and dryness in the air was thought to dessicate brains and produce perverted temperaments. His explanation for the evident fact that the peoples of Sahelian West Africa (the only ones he had direct knowledge of) were civilized people with kingdoms, dynasties, crafts etc.—in short all those attributes that made for a balanced, ‘temperate’ way of life—relies on a completely different type of argument. Indeed, the whole theory of the effect of climate on human character and culture was thrown overboard in favour of an argument based on religion. Following the passage quoted earlier on the barbarity of the inhabitants of tropical Africa and northern Europe, he further castigates these peoples for being "ignorant of prophecy" and lacking in a religious law, meanng they are not Muslims nor do they belong to a religion recognized by Muslims as being of divine inspiration, such as Christianity or Judaism. For al-Dimashqı the very barbarism of such peoples, induced by climatic factors, was the reason why they had not been favored with prophecy. Ibn Khaldün, however, does not view their barbarism as irredeemable; on the contracy, they may escape it through the adoption of a revealed religion. Hence he could then make exceptions to the rule of barbarism for denizens of the climatically extreme zones who had adopted Christianity, such as the Ethiopians and certain peoples of Europe or those who had become Muslims, such as the people of Mali, Senegal, and the Middle Niger area. In short, faith was to be the touchstone of civilized humanity and, as far as West Africa was concerned, what served to exclude some of its peoples from their otherwise “natural†categorization as barbarians was, in the eyes of Ibn Khald‹un, their profession of the faith of Islam. The bond of the brotherhood of the faith not only meant that a black man/woman who was a Muslim ought no longer to be regarded as a barbarian, but that s/he should no longer be regarded as an inferior in any way when compared to an Arab. There was, however, a different approach to one group of black Africans, who were not, in the main, Muslims. that is the people known as Habasha - a name no doubt semantically related to the English term “Abyssinia [ Habashinia]. Although medieval Arab writers might sometimes use the term simply as an equivalent of the term südan (i.e. black Africa), its primary focus was on the area we now call “Ethiopiaâ€. A considerable literature was produced on the virtues of Ethiopians, even though many slaves originating from that area were owned in the Arab world (particularly in Arabia and Egypt). The reason for this is no doubt that Ethiopia was a refuge for Muslims who were persecuted during the Prophet’s lifetime, and the king of Ethiopia at that time was thought by some to have embraced Islam. The Prophet Muhammad glorified him by naming him as one of the three blacks, or Ethiopians, who were, in his words “masters (s!d!t) of Paradiseâ€, one of the others being his adopted freed slave and first muezzin of Islam, Bil!l. The titles of a number of writings in the medieval period express the superiority of black (or at least “dark-skinnedâ€) people over whites (or “light-skinnedâ€) people. One of the earliest was by a famous Iraqi writer of the 9th century, al-J!˛ı÷, whose short treatise was called “The Glory of Blacks compared to Whitesâ€. In the 12th century another Iraqi writer, Ibn al-Jawzı, wrote a book with the title â€Illumination of darkness concerning the merits of the Süd!n and the Ethiopiansâ€. In the 15th century, a celebrated Egyptian writer, al- Suyü†ı, wrote a book called “Raising the status of the Ethiopiansâ€. Another work of his deals with preferences for skin color - light, dark and brown, forming an anthology of verse in praise and satire of women of different skin colors. This clearly indicates that color was an issue in the medieval Arab world, but some of the poetry emphasises the admiration for black women, as may be seen from these poetic quotations : Pearl is the name of many a black girl How amazing it is to have a black pearl. Night of union with a black woman is shiny bright How amazing to have a night that is white. Thus, although black Africa was largely a “region of the mind†creating negative images of black people, personal contact, especially with women as concubines, could produce love and appreciation. Another poet in love with a black woman called Tuktum humorously praises her color, comparing it implicitly to the blackness of musk and of darkness: I love black women for Tuktum’s sake. For her sake I love all who are black. Show me anything with scent that's as sweet as musk, Or better for resting than after dusk. In fact, attitudes towards black women were generally more positive than they were towards black men, even if the women were of slave origin. More female slaves were taken across the Sahara to North Africa than men, and such women were then retained as concubines by Arab men. Some were even made mothers of children for rulers. In such cases the children born were considered free, since their fathers were free, and patrilineality was the social norm in Arab society. In one case such a child, a male, became a successor to his ruling father—Sultan AË›mad al-Manßür, whose mother was a Fulani concubine, and he ruled Morocco 1578-1608. Such tolerance for wholly black persons, even when technically "free" was not so common in Morocco. In fact, the notion that to be black meant to be a slave became a commonly held belief. Sultan AË›mad al-Manßür began to set up a black slave military force for his kingdom after the conquest of the Songhay empire and the exportation of men considered to be slaves. Nearly a century later Mülay Isamiıl b. al-Sharıf decided to do a similar thing, and initiated such a force by searching for descendants of those who had been part of the earlier slave army. The search, however, collected anyone viewed as a "black" throughout certain areas of Morocco. This included some who were said to be Ë›ar!tın, that is free blacks who had lived in Saharan oases, being perhaps original inhabitants of such areas, but many of whom later migrated into Moroccan locations including some cities—not least of which was Fez. Objections from scholars of Fez were rejected by Mül!y Ismaıl, who argued that he had proven that such persons (or their ancestors) had originally been slaves, but had deserted their owners and scattered themselves around the country. Such an argument clearly bases itself on the assumption that to be black is to be a slave. Finally several thousand blacks were purchased or captured and trained as soldiers forming a group known as "fiAbıd al-Bukh!rı" ("Slaves of al-Bukh!rı"), and then black women were gathered and the ruler arranged marriages between these women and the armed blacks so as to eventually produce later generations of black "slave origin" men to continue serving in a military force. Mülay Ismaiıl, as referred to earlier, tended not to accept that any black Africans were free people.Those he obtained for his military force were called "Slaves of al-Bukh!rı" because, he said, displaying a copy of al-Bukh!rı's Ë›adıth collection, both he and they were "slaves to the Sunna of the Messenger of God (MuË›ammad)", an expression that seems to assume that the recruited blacks were Muslims. The notion that blackness of skin meant that a person was a slave continued tobe assumed by many Moroccans down to the late 19th century. Evidence for this comes from the experience of a Muslim scholar [MuË›ammad al-Sanüsı b. Ibr!hım al-J!rimı] [ Tanbıh ahl al- †ughy!n fial! Ë›urriyyat al-süd!n]from the Timbuktu region who visited Morocco apparently in the 1880s, and later wrote a small book (in the mid-1890s) about his experience, and said at the beginning: "I found there some uncivil Maoroccans who claimed that all blacks (südan) were absolutely slaves, and that they did not deserve to be free; how would they deserve that being black-skinned?" . He then devoted the main part of his book to arguments against such a claim, arguing forthe fundamentally free nature and human equality of black Africans, basing himself on sayings attributed to the Prophet, one of the most convincing of which is when the Prophet said: "O people, your Lord is One, and your ancestor is one. The Arab has no virtue over the non-Arab, nor has the non-Arab over the Arab, nor has the White over the Black, or the Black over the White except in terms of devotion to God". The late 19th century Moroccan historian Ahmad b. Khalid al- Nasiri also strongly protests against enslavement of black Africans, and condemns Moroccan attitudes and practices: Thus will be apparent to you the heinousness of the affliction that has beset the lands of the Maghrib since ancient times in regard to the indiscriminate enslavement of the people of the Süd!n and the importation of droves of them every year to be sold in the market places in town and country, where men trade in them as one would trade in beasts—nay worse than that. People have become so inured to that, generation after generation, that many common folk believe that the reason for being enslaved according to the Holy Law is merely that a man should be black in color and come from those regions. This, by God's life, is one of the foulest and gravest evils perpetrated upon God’s religion, for the people of the Sudan are Muslims having the same rights and responsibilities as ourselves. Even if you assume that some of them are pagans or belong to a religion other than Islam, nevertheless the majority of them today as in former times are Muslims, and judgment is made according to the majority. Again, even if you suppose that Muslims are not a majority, and that Islam and unbelief claim equal membership there, who among us can tell whether those brought here are Muslims or unbelievers? For the basic assumption in regard to the human species is freedom and lack of any cause for being enslaved. Whoever maintains the opposite is denying the basic principle. Nevertheless. elsewhere in the Arab world, the relationship of blackness of skin to slavery continues to be reflected in many dialects; i.e. fiabıd = blacks. In 1995 in Nigeria, when I was speaking in Arabic with a Lebanese, the man simply referred to Nigerians as fiabıd, and a modern dictionary of Egyptian spoken Arabic also defines fiabd as, first "slave" and "secondly "negro".24 Of course, this did not apply to black Africans who were clearly Muslims, especially those who were learned. Many West African Muslims made their own way to the Middle East for pilgrimage to Mecca. None are known to have been captured and enslaved, though occasionally such pilgrims would bring with them some slaves to use as "travelers checks", selling them when necessary to obtain money for their travels. On the other hand, those who were scholars in Islamic sciences were accepted and allowed to stay in an Arab society. The most celebrated of these was a Fulani scholar from Futa Jallon (modern Guinea), #!liË› b. MuË›ammad al-fiUmarı, who in the late 18th century traveled to Arabia and settled in Madina, where he taught some local, and some "foreign", scholars, including some Indians, who adopted, and later published, his teachings on sharıfia, that favored study and application of regulatory Ë›adıth rather than full acceptance of judgments through law schools (madh!hib). Another Fulani scholar, MuË›ammad al-Kashin!wı al-D!nrank!wı (d. 1741), coming from Katsina (modern Nigeria), settled in Cairo after pilgrimage and was befriended by the father of historian fiAbd al- RaË›m!n al-Jabartı , to whom he bequeathed his library, and in whose household he died. There were certainly other black African scholars who visited for short or long periods Arab lands in North Africa and the Middle East.In addition, many enslaved black Africans ended up in North Africa, often converting to Islam either before final arrival, or after serving a master for some time. Although many such converts were probably emancipated, how they were later regarded is not known, although the Moroccan ruler Mül!y Ism!fiıl tended not to accept that any black Africans were free people. There have been different Arab ways of looking at black Africans over the centuries, Muslims, either scholars or women, being least disfavored, but otherwise African physical appearance has tended to implicate inferiority and enslaveability, as it has done frequently in Europe and America.

Can we have peace on SOL? if peace and unity in Somalia seem far away.

Language, power and society: orality and literacy in the Horn of Africa Gubo – Somali-Galbeed poetry and the aftermath of the Dervish wars* Cedric Barnes††CEDRIC BARNES can be contacted Department of History, School of Oriental and African Studies, Thornhaugh Street, London WC1H 0XG. Email: cb26@soas.ac.uk. (Clan names have been altered in order to comply with the forum rules) *This article is the result of a period of fieldwork funded by the British Academy Small Research Grant, during a British Academy Post-doctoral Fellowship. I would like to thank Abdikarim Mohamed who assisted me during fieldwork (as well as many other Somali friends and interviewees in Somali Region 5, Ethiopia, April–June 2002) especially Farah Dhamel Daahir Hussein, ‘Doodaan’, and Ahmed Sheikh Abul Rahman ‘Shino’, also to Mr Ahmed Abdi Magan for follow-up work in London, and to Dr Martin Orwin who has helped greatly with advice, contacts, and especially Somali language instruction in the preparation of this article. In this article I will use ‘Somali-Galbeed’ to describe the (D) clans, ‘Somali-Galbeed’ to refer to the region that the Somali-Galbeed clans inhabit in the southeast of Ethiopia (now known as Region 5). Department of History, School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London. Abstract The paper asks how Somalis perceived their ‘national’ identity in relation to clan-based society in the context of European colonial and Ethiopian imperial domination in the first half of the twentieth century. The paper uses Somali oral poetry as historical source since poetry is widely acknowledged as the most profound expression of cultural and political discourse in (northern) Somali society. This paper argues that one of the most famous and enduring examples of ‘classical’ Somali poetry – a series of linked poems known as Gubo – sheds light on an important but neglected period of Somali history, the aftermath of the Dervish wars. The Gubo poems map the experience of three clans who are situated along the eastern Ethiopian border with the colonial Somali-lands during the period in which the Ethiopian and the colonial administrations (British and Italian) pacified Somali resistance and demarcated the borders between their Somali-inhabited territories (circa 1920–1950). The poems also form a link between the poetic discourse of the Dervish leader, proto-nationalist and famed poet Sayyid Maxamad Cabdille Xasan, and the first modern Somali nationalists. The Gubo poems comment on two issues that continue to preoccupy Somali politics and history today, namely the division of the Somali peoples into different ‘national’ territories, and the primacy of ‘clan’ in Somali political life. Dhagaxa meel dhow buu ku dhacaa hadalna meel fog A stone falls near while words fall very far (away)—Somali proverb 1. Introduction The nineteenth century explorer and polyglot Sir Richard Burton described the Somali speaking lands as a country that “teems with ‘poets, poetasters, poetitos, poetaccios’†(Burton 1856/1987: 82). The ubiquity of poetry in Somalia, has led many scholars to employ Somali poetry as a mirror and source of ‘national’ culture and history. Said Samatar's study of Sayyid Maxamad Cabdille Xasan's religiously inspired proto-nationalist struggle against British, Italian and Ethiopian imperialism, used the Sayyid's poetry as an internal Somali riposte to history written by outsiders (Said 1982), as to a lesser extent have Cassanelli (1982), Abdi Sheikh Abdi (1993) and Jama Mohamed (2002). B.W. Andrzejewski and I.M. Lewis, (1964), John William Johnson (1974), Yaasin Cali Keenadiid (1984), Francesco Antinucci and Axmed Faarax ‘Idaajaa’ (1986) have also presented Somali poems in the context of Somali history, but without the direct and systematic utilisation of poetry as oral history that informs Said's work. There is also much Somali language literature on Somali poetry, for example Aw Jaamac Cumar Ciise produced two invaluable Somali language volumes of Sayyid Maxamed's history and poetry (Jaamac 1974; 1976).1 Somali poetry and Somali history have been closely linked, not least because Somali poetry reflects the contemporary events and processes of the era in which it is composed. Its composers are the ‘traditional intellectuals’ with the knowledge and insight necessary to ‘sniff the air’ and formulate coherent narratives of the ‘raw events of the real world’ (Ali 1996). Moreover not only do the poems often present a record of historical moments or processes, they also give an idea of the intellectual discourse surrounding those events, often in the form of poetic replies to a seminal poem and its author. Several authors have noted the importance of poetic replies forming ‘chains’ of poems or silsilad that reflect the political events on the ground in oral discourse. Said Samatar has noted the Hurgumo chain of poems arising from the political competition between D clans and dissatisfaction in the aftermath of the failed Somali-Galbeed war (between Ethiopia and Somalia) of 1977–8, famine and the increasing dictatorial tendencies of the Siyaad Barre regime (Said 1989). Ali has noted two other series of politically motivated poetic duels, the Siinley and Deeley chains (Ali 1996: 14) and describes how official and dissenting discourses found modern mediums of dissemination via radio and cassettes (ibid.; Abdi 1981). At a more local level Mohamed Abdillah Rirash has noted the centrality of poetry in the day-to-day cut and thrust of pastoral life (Mohamed AR 1992), and Ahmed Yusuf Farah has noted the use of poetry in wrangles over ‘relief aid’ in modern Somali refugee camps (Ahmed 1996). As a source of history poetic chains are valuable since they bring forth alternating Somali voices giving differing perspectives on certain events and processes; though admittedly the poems are often difficult to translate and peppered with extremely obscure localised and ‘internal’ references. Yet, with the exception of the Sayyid's poetry, poetic historical discourse has been relatively under-researched and has not been systematically utilised as a source for specific periods and problems in Somali history. This I argue is a great oversight. Indeed one of the most famous and enduring examples of ‘classical’ Somali poetry and of the poetic chains alluded to above – the Gubo series – sheds light on an important but neglected period of northern Somali history. The Gubo poems arose directly from the aftermath of the Sayyid's struggle against ‘Christian’ imperialism in the Somali-lands, and the intensity and complexity of the Gubo series, as well the oral history that the poems prompt, suggests a period of immense upheaval, trauma and change. The series is especially important since it almost exactly bridges the gap between the pre- or proto- nationalist resistance of the Sayyid, and the early modern Somali nationalists. The aftermath of the Sayyid's revolt is ignored by most writers; even I. M. Lewis writes that from the early nineteen-twenties ‘the next few years there is little of note to record, until 1935 when the Italian border dispute with Ethiopia at Wal Wal provided the opportunity of launching their conquest of Ethiopia’ (Andrzejewski and Lewis 1964: 14). Indeed rather than following the fortunes of the Somali populations directly affected by the Sayyid's revolt and defeat, most writers subsume the aftermath of the Sayyid's struggle into the narrative of the imposed border between Ethiopia and Somalia that came to have great significance to the post-war nationalists; a classic top-down history that tends to deny any agency to Somalis involved and that is further obscured by nationalist rhetoric (Barnes 2004). However the historical discourse of Gubo has continued to have importance to a significant population of Somalis transcending the era (circa 1920–1950) in which it was composed. Contemporary Somali-Galbeed individuals stress the continuing strength and relevance of the words in the Gubo series, and how lines are often quoted in relation to recent events (Fieldnotes 2002). Indeed in a recent political communiqué from the autonomous region of Puntland, the Deputy Information Minister of Puntland warning of the consequences of Somaliland interference in the factional conflict in Puntland, declared ‘If you set your neighbour's house on fire, it is likely that your house will also burn’, a line resonant of the famous lines by the Somali-Galbeed poet Qaman Bulhan which gave the Gubo series its name.2 Gubo has much to recommend it as oral history since the poems are classed in a category Martin Orwin has described as a ‘definitive text’. There are various linguistic and stylistic qualities that Orwin has identified that make texts ‘technically’ definitive (Orwin 2003), but ‘traditionally’ the genre of poetry to which Gubo belongs is also held to be ‘definitive’, that is to say it cannot be altered, it must be recited verbatim, and its composer is always credited. The great linguist of the Somali languages, B. W. Andrzejewski, has likened this tradition to an ‘un-written copyright’ (Andrzejewski 1988:2). It is also noteworthy that (contrary to methodological problems with other forms of oral history) since the poetic texts are acknowledged as ‘definitive’, their transcription into writing (although not so much their translation into other languages) is relatively unproblematic. The Gubo series therefore, makes up a series of ‘definitive texts’ largely unaltered since the time of their composition (but see Andrzejewski 1988 on Yaasin 1984), and given their social and political themes they are an invaluable and illuminating source of history. As B.W. Andrzejewski and Musa Galaal noted in the 1960s ‘Poetry which illustrates [a conscious and articulate appreciation of old values], and at the same time set out actual historical events naming men, places, battles and pacts, is a cultural treasure of priceless value to the future Somali scholar’ (Andrzejewski and Musa 1963: 205). 2. Context The Gubo series is, at least in part, a series of claims and counterclaims about gain and loss of resources – herds, people, territory (grazing and wells) and not least ‘honour’ – in the historical twilight between statelessness and statehood (in colonial form). The poems appear to internalise and mirror the process of ‘externally imposed’ demarcation of the international border between colonial British and Italian Somali-lands and the Ethiopian Empire which formally divided Somali populations into different ‘administrations’; a long drawn out project and process beginning with the defeat of the Sayyid and continuing until the ‘Wal Wal’ incident in 1935 and never fully ratified at independence. The received account has always dwelt on the ‘alien imposition of the borders’ and the ‘nationalist reaction’ especially in the 1950s (Drysdale 1964: 74–87; Lewis 2002: 148–153). However the Gubo series shows that although externally imposed, borders and demarcation also reflected and fuelled a pre-existing internal power struggle over leadership, territory, and Islamic and ‘clan’ morality between Somali clans. The roots of this complex struggle lay in the internal dynamics of the Dervish wars and reflected the ‘moral geography’3 of Somali clans as well as the political economy of imperialism in Northeast Africa. Undoubtedly Gubo is a continuing discourse on the legacy of the Sayyid and his struggle; the Gubo chain is linked to the last poem of the Sayyid known as Dardaaran ‘a farewell’ or ‘parting words of wisdom’ (Mursaal et al 2000). The continuation of some of the Sayyid's preoccupations and prejudices in Gubo is further evidence that the Sayyid's revolt was not only motivated by resistance to colonial rule under an Islamist banner, but was also intertwined with the ‘deep politics’ (Lonsdale 2000) of Somali ‘moral economy’. Furthermore there is the question of the clan ownership of these poems, the Somali-Galbeed clans certainly feel them to be heroic poems, but the other clans involved in the series, the Isxaaq and D-hulbahante, will bring their own interpretation. Like grazing and wells, these poems seem to be common property appropriated temporarily by clans at certain times, but ultimately a shared inheritance. However it seems, like territory and wells, they have become increasingly ‘enclosed’ by clan exclusivity. In the first published extracts from the Gubo series B. W. Andrzejewski and Musa Galaal (1963) – whose polished translations I have used over my rougher ‘field’ versions – concluded that Gubo represented a war of words in the interests of the preservation of the honour of clans without recourse to arms, possibly ‘peace poems’. However contemporary Somali-Galbeed informants saw Gubo as evidence of their own clan's tragedy and resolve, the sheer duplicity of other clans, but also an ultimate Somali-Galbeed ‘victory’, decidedly ‘war poems’ (Fieldnotes 2002). During an interview in London a prominent exiled Somali-Galbeed nationalist gave the impression that Gubo was an example of quintessential ‘Somali-Galbeed-ness’, a moral ethnicity of sorts that represents a fidelity to the true idea of ‘Somaliness’. Another theory is that Gubo is largely concerned with the frustrated leadership ambitions of one of its several authors, Ali Duuh, and an elusive D unity. There are many other possible readings. 3. A possible Somali-Galbeed reading The Somali-Galbeed region, a triangular swathe of territory located on the eastern periphery of the modern Ethiopian state, is inhabited by a significant percentage of the Somali speaking population of Northeast Africa. From the outset of imperial expansion in Northeast Africa, the Ethiopian empire and British and Italian colonial territories claimed ownership of the Somali-Galbeed, a dispute that culminated in the Wal Wal incident of late 1935 and the Italian invasion of Ethiopia. From the early nineteen-forties Somali nationalists, initially egged on by British Military Administration, also claimed Somali-Galbeed territory as integral to the future independent state of Somalia. The pan-Somali unification project made the Somali-Galbeed a keystone of the Somali nationalist struggle especially after Siyaad Barre's military coup in 1969. The claims to the Somali-Galbeed region were encouraged by another development of the 1969 coup, the increasing institutional lionisation of Sayyid Maxamad Cabdille Xasan as the epitome of Somali nationalism. The Sayyid's paternal Somali-Galbeed lineage and his association with the Somali-Galbeed region brought the region firmly into the nationalist historical account of the antecedents of the Somali state (Laitin 1979; Said 1982; Lewis 1989). Indeed the literary scholar Ali Jimale Ahmed has stressed how from the nineteen-fifties onwards, and especially during Siyaad Barre's regime after the 1969 coup, there was a ‘Dervish-isation’ of Somali state historiography that concentrated on the Sayyid's ‘nationalist’ resistance against foreigners and collaborators. ‘Dervishisation’ appealed to Somali-Galbeed nationalists to identify with the Somali state and made the historical Isxaaq resistance against the Sayyid seem unpatriotic (and thus made the modern northern regional struggle led by the Isxaaq against Siyaad Barre during the nineteen-eighties seem yet more unreasonable). However this discourse of national resistance neglected the history of defeat and division in the aftermath of the Sayyid's struggle. Open debate surrounding the Sayyid and his legacy was stifled, and then engulfed by the civil and political crisis in Somalia of the last decade (Ali 1995). This paper argues that the true relationship between the Sayyid, the aftermath of the Dervish wars, the Somali-Galbeed clans and Somali nationalist discourse has been overlooked, or at least oversimplified. Indeed if we turn again to poetry as a historical source, one of the themes of the Gubo series is the destruction, destitution and demeaning of the powerful and prestigious Somali-Galbeed clans as an indirect result of the defeat of the Sayyid – a long forgotten reading (but see Andrzejewski and Musa 1963; Kakwenzire 1976). British Foreign Office records6 compiled by diplomats in Addis Ababa and consuls nearer to the scene, leave fragments of contemporary evidence that also support the thesis that the Somali-Galbeed suffered very badly after the Dervish movement ended, mostly at the hands of the British-armed Isxaaq clans from the then British Somaliland Protectorate. To be sure the Sayyid's resistance and the Ethiopian, British and Italian ‘pacification’ campaigns (which lasted on and off for twenty years) had left many of the clans involved (that is most of the northern half of Somalia) exhausted and impoverished. However of the three important clan families involved, the Isxaaq, D-hulbahante and Somali-Galbeed, the latter by their close identification with the Sayyid's paternal clan suffered the greatest losses in the immediate aftermath. The Somali-Galbeed clans were arguably the most seriously affected since they had borne the brunt of British and Ethiopian campaigns waged against the Dervish, but also suffering the deprivations of the Dervish forces themselves when Somali-Galbeed clan support for the Sayyid faltered. Moreover when the British armed auxiliary ‘British Protected’ Isxaaq clans in the final push against the Dervish, the Somali-Galbeed lost herds, wells and people, as the war against the Dervish became a struggle for ascendance in the post-Dervish political order. In this end game the Isxaaq objective became control of the well points adjacent to the important Somali-Galbeed wet season grazing areas such as the Hawd and Ammud (located on the modern Ethiopian border with Somalia). The Hawd and Ammud grazing areas were originally claimed as part of the British and Italian colonial territories. However it was only the British and Italian treaties with clans under their jurisdiction that supported claims over the Hawd and Ammud and not ‘effective occupation’. In the British case the Hawd region was formally ceded to Ethiopia in 1897, an act that many writers interpret as careless at best and as a betrayal at worst (Drysdale 1964: 74–87; Lewis 2002: 148–153); Italian claims were still pending on the eve of Wal Wal. Historically Isxaaq, D-hulbahante and Somali-Galbeed all used the Hawd and Ammud regions, but as a rainy season grazing area it could not support permanent populations in the dry season. However a fact that is hardly admitted in relation to the Hawd and Ammud regions is that the economic and demographic change of the colonial experience in Somaliland (and Italian Somalia) – despite the notorious underdevelopment – was far greater than the change prompted by ‘predatory’ Ethiopian rule in the Somali-Galbeed (so often blamed for the instability in the Somali-Galbeed region). Simply put, by the end of the Dervish wars, Pax Britannica even in its most shaky form, had the net effect of making the Hawd and Ammud regions, and especially the wells that served them, more acutely needed by British Somaliland clans than they had been at the end of the nineteenth century by virtue of demographic and herd expansion, the impact of firearms, trade, and changing land use (e.g. the increase in agriculture). Moreover as territorial sovereignty and administration expanded – including the appointment of government ‘chiefs’ and ‘agents’ – the ownership and increasingly the ‘nationality’ of this resource was accentuated and subject to dispute. Exclusive claims to resources made traditional clan rivalry rather sharper than it had been historically, and this fact is not well charted in the secondary literature, but quite explicitly noted in the Gubo series. 4. The poems The first poem of the Gubo series Andrzejewski and Musa term as ‘Ali Duuh's lament’ but modern day Somali-Galbeed know as ‘the Somali-Galbeed [are] fools’, Doqonkii Somali-Galbeed ahaa. It is primarily a pointed commentary on the Somali-Galbeed clans who as a result of the final campaigns against the Sayyid's forces had lost wells, territory and camel wealth to the Isxaaq whose clans had acted as auxiliaries to the British forces and had crossed the border taking possession of the Hawd and Ammud wells (circa 1917–21). The period is still known by Somali-Galbeed as Reyd8 referring to the Daahyaale raids (Fieldnotes 2002, Andrzejewski and Musa 1963: 23). The composer, Ali Duuh was a poet from the D-hulbahante – the Sayyid's maternal clan – who were supporters of the Dervish but who finally turned against his leadership. The poem arose while Ali Duuh was watering his camels at an Somali-Galbeed well that was now in possession of an Isxaaq clan. Ali's poem was innocently addressed to his favourite camel, but overheard, it is said, by Isxaaq tea-shop owners, who had set up at the well (Fieldnotes 2002) and who demanded to hear it in full. The poem started: Doollo has been taken from the Somali-Galbeed, the fools If they want to encamp in Dannood and ‘Iid, they are forbidden Other men rule their country, and their two regions […] (transl. Andrzejewski and Musa 1963:21) From a historical point of view Ali Duuh's poem explicitly detailed the large gains in traditionally Somali-Galbeed territory and wells, and the looting of Somali-Galbeed camels by the Isxaaq. Ali Duuh's verse not only notes the territorial expansion of the Isxaaq, but also the commercial expansion of Isxaaq as ‘tea-shop’ owners and hawkers (established at well centres), activities that were anathema to pastoral Somali traditionalists (Fieldnotes 2002): ‘Nowadays, in the grazing region of Gaafow [‘tea’] shops are set up’ (Andrzejewski and Musa 1963: 22). Ali Duuh's poem goes on to detail the scattering of Somali-Galbeed clans, their forced migration southwards seeking refuge in feverish river valleys, and even their resort to hunting and farming – measures that were again considered very shameful, usually only undertaken by slaves or low-caste Somalis – and utterly demeaning for the once great noble and pastoral Somali-Galbeed clan: They would not have migrated to a place where plague attacks them They would not eat barley and millet in the Haarweyne region [and later] they cultivate the fields, because of their extreme poverty (Andrzejewski and Musa 1963:23) The Somali-Galbeed, Ali recounts, have been forced to accept refuge with the Isxaaq clans that defeated them and cannot take revenge. The Isxaaq are portrayed as particular callous and shameful in the way they parade looted Somali-Galbeed camels in front of their previous owners. The sweet smell of ‘beastings’9 spreads around and yet you have to hunt (wild game) The beautiful camels are not far away and they are your camels Bearing your crescent marks and (your ear) incision marks on the left side Grunting and lowing they have been brought near you (by the Isxaaq) (Andrzejewski and Musa 1963: 23). Even in prosaic translation it is a very evocative poem. This poem prompted a series of replies that continued for a generation, involving twelve separate poets and twenty different poems. The first reply to Ali Duuh came from the famous Somali-Galbeed poet Qaman Bulhan, and is a withering reply to Ali Duuh's poem. He accuses Ali Duuh of stirring up bitterness amongst the Somali-Galbeed, and opening old wounds. Qaman also coins the phrase from which the series gets it name, gubo: Dab baad ololisaa / Ku ma na gubo ‘kindling a slow fire that will not burn you’ (although a fire that might yet engulf the igniter). You always kindle fire by which you are not burnt yourself, And setting ablaze a heavy log, you know how to incite people against each other; But maybe the encampment, all in smoke (and flames) will burn the homestead in which you yourself dwell (Andrzejewski and Musa 1963: 95) Qaman goes on to stress the hypocrisy of Ali Duuh, and suggests that the Isxaaq only prevailed because of previous D-hulbahante attacks on the Somali-Galbeed, belittling the Isxaaq victory. Qaman carries on in this vein, declaring that the Somali-Galbeed and Isxaaq live peacefully together – implying a relationship of equals, not victor and vanquished – and that they now enjoy good relations strengthened through inter-clan marriage and offspring. Qaman however belittles the Isxaaq achievements still further by emphasising their ignoble activities as tradesmen and the employees of the British. Therefore without directly addressing the Isxaaq clans, and attacking instead the D-hulbahante, Qaman does his best to play down the Isxaaq achievements, noting their inferior lineage and particularly their reliance on the white-man. With such insinuations against their clan the Isxaaq poets Maxamad Fiin and Salaan Arrabey join the fray. Salaan's poem (coming after several other poets' responses) refutes the claim that the D-hulbahante ‘softened up’ the Somali-Galbeed for the Isxaaq, and notes that the D-hulbahante were beaten by the Isxaaq in similar fashion. However he also proudly admits to Isxaaq occupation of the great swathes of Somali-Galbeed territory and wells, and candidly admits that the British Protectorate officials ‘on the ground’ condoned the Isxaaq gains. Salaan talks frankly about the war parties, the attack on specific Somali-Galbeed clans such as the Rer Haroun and Rer Ali. But he also notes the kind treatment of Somali-Galbeed girls given to the Isxaaq as brides. It was the Hab-ar Yoo-nis (Isxaaq) who took possession of the watering ponds of ‘Iid. Now they have put their encampments in Hundo and by the ponds of Faaf. It has been reported even to Himid [a British officer?] that there was a concentration of encampments, in warlike preparation, in Hutuuti; The reason why the Reer Ammaadin retreated headlong to the river was that they ran away in fear; They entered the Shabeele river, they abandoned the plains. The Reer Jeeraar were completely defeated by repeated attacks. The haughty and proud men have now been licked We are using to the full the riches of Burqo and the bounty of Eelfuud Only the Rer Dalal are beyond the reach of enemy penetration and the ravages wrought upon the D. Now (the ***** invaders) show consideration on account of the girls who have been given to them in marriage. One should not be lenient in harming the enemy who has been hamstrung From here to Hiraan (the invaders) took possession of everything, leaving nothing behind on the dish. (Andrzejewski and Musa 1963: 192) Even such a cursory examination of a few poems of this long series demonstrates the local intra-clan discourse in the aftermath of the Sayyid's perceived ‘proto-nationalist’ struggle, exposing all kind of hidden segmentary narratives and ‘moral economies’. Andrzejewski and Musa in their excellent translations briefly commented on the meaning of the poems and generally conclude that the poems act as a kind of proxy combat between clans enabling a kind of post-war reconstruction of honour and material wealth, suggesting that they are peace poems and state: no fresh fighting started as a result of this poetic exchange, which continued for some years and in which other poets took part. It is reasonable to assume that there was an element of ‘letting off steam’ in the exchange, and everyone was able to bolster up, if not the prestige of his clan among others, at least its self esteem (Andrzejewski and Musa 1963: 203–204). However some present day Somali-Galbeed individuals consider this reading of the Gubo series to be disingenuous, and indeed from later poems the above interpretation would seem historically inaccurate. Somali-Galbeed elders stress that Qaman Bulhan's poem as evidence of how ‘thick’ the Isxaaq were with the British, and the implications of this alliance for the subsequent history of the Isxaaq and Somali-Galbeed. Somali-Galbeed elders also imply that the instability that marked the Ethiopian–Somaliland border for the next twenty years (a favourite topic of the secondary literature) was the aftermath of total Somali-Galbeed defeat by British armed Isxaaq, but followed, over a generation, by deliberate Somali-Galbeed re-conquest and revenge to regain their pre-eminence in the pastoral economy of the region. As well the Gubo poems offering a taste of the intra-clan discourse in the pre-nationalist era, we also find that some significant events directly relating to the wells and territory at issue in the Gubo poems are not mentioned. For example there are many poems that give Somali perspective on the Wal Wal incident and the Italian invasion of Ethiopia, and indeed on the Somali Youth League nationalist project of a Greater Somalia in the nineteen-forties (Antinucci and Axmed 1986). Yet the last Gubo poems that was probably composed at or after the Wal Wal incident and during the beginnings of the rise of Somali nationalist politics, do not explicitly mention Wal Wal or any Somali political organisations; the Gubo series stay deep in the Somali world of clans, wells, grazing, and Islam. Furthermore the Gubo series do not mention that the heavy defeat of the Somali-Galbeed by the Isxaaq also saw the Ethiopian government penetrating far more deeply into the Somali-Galbeed region during the nineteen-twenties. The Ethiopian forces established a tenuous alliance with some of the Somali-Galbeed clans who, in return for a certain amount of taxation, were supplied with arms and food and a degree of protection by the small garrison towns and trading centres that Ethiopian rule established in the region (Barnes 2000; 104–106, 115–126). Indeed Andrzejewski and Musa note later that Isxaaq dominance and Somali-Galbeed subordination was radically altered by the control of firearms on the British side of the border, but that on the Ethiopian side of the frontier, firearms were still available, and that the ‘balance of power was restored’ (Andrzejewski and Musa 1963: 205). 5. Conclusion Despite the silences and long forgotten references, Gubo informs at several levels. First it is an important and neglected account of the aftermath of the Sayyid's rebellion and defeat. Second Gubo displays at its fullest extent the force of segmentary lineage politics in Somali society, and an idea of what this kind of politics mean to the Somali clans involved (Lewis 2002). Third, Gubo appears to play a continued role in the perception of clan identities in the region, for example the reconstruction of Somali-Galbeedi ‘nationalist’ – some would argue ‘particularistic’ – discourse in the context of the collapse of Somalia and decentralisation of Ethiopia (Khalif and Doornbos 2002; Escher 1994). Fourth the ghost of the Sayyid haunts all the poems, Gubo picking up where Dardaaran left off (Ali 1996: 176-181). There is certainly a sense of unfinished business, unfinished until, if we are to take an Somali-Galbeed reading, the Somali-Galbeed return to their grazing and wells, and the D-hulbahante poet admits defeat, and Isxaaq retreat back into their ‘colony’. The last poem of the Gubo series is composed by Muhamed Umar Rage – ‘an orphan’ of the first devastating Isxaaq raids, and leader of the rejuvenated Somali-Galbeed war-parties – that outlines the return to previous pre-Dervish and pre-colonial ‘order’ in the Somali-Galbeed, but composed it seems in the thick of the second world war and on the eve of the birth of modern Somali nationalism. Gubo emphasises local Somali politics detailing the ebb and flow of clan fortunes, and only mentioning ‘colonial rule’ to belittle their opponents. The poems offer an important corrective to the idea that Somalis have been passive victims of arbitrary boundaries and imperialism, the omission of events like Wal Wal, the Italo-Ethiopian war, and the rise of Somali nationalism (sometimes in alliance with colonial forces) is, nevertheless, curious. But perhaps the Gubo poems show as much disregard towards the imperial powers, as the imperial powers did to local Somali society. As classical poems the Gubo series do not descend into the grubby business of ‘town-based’ nationalist politics. Gubo is far more interested in upholding the honour of the Somali-Galbeed clan. This I have argued elsewhere reflects a crucial divide between modern nationalism and the traditional pastoral world and its social and cultural imperatives (Barnes 2005).

^^ WEll done Am-XAAR

^^ True say Blad, you support your country ETHIOPIA.

^^^ Exposed

Check this link for an article & pictures on the Somali victims of human organ trade in South Africa. http://www.alltaleex.com/war2006/warseptember24001.htm I also looked on google and came across this article http://www.berkeley.edu/news/media/releases/99legacy/11-03-1999b.html This is the side effect of our civil war and statelessness. Somali life is very cheap today and there is no state to protect us. We are not safe in other countries if our own country is not safe. We are victims everywhere and there is no one to protect us. WE NEED OUR STATE BACK or we will not SURVIVE. SOMALIS UNITE. Or it will be you that will be the next victim.

Originally posted by Sharif_seylaci: haahah i mean ahmed gurray amhaarina tigrinya somaligina oromigina gambeelina OK well done, you have solved the first one but now you failed the second one. How would a Somali put lets say: "amhaarina tigrinya somaligina oromigina gambeelina" Would a real Somali write these names like this? How would he do it? Pretend to be Somali and show us please. You are exposed Roaddawg, I told you already go and get a new alias, this one is dead.

That means you are all the same people. You are one person using all those different names, trying to stir up tribalist sentiments. NaxarNugaleed plays the extremist Puntlander Sharif saylici plays the extremist secessionist Ersalem plays the extremist southerner Do you follow me Roaddawg? You are exposed. You play this game to keep the conflict on SOL going, to fill the people’s heads with clannish animosity. You are not Somali and your language is exposing you. So once again COMO ESTAN Roaddawg.

IP-adress

Originally posted by Sharif_seylaci: amxaaar we have blood relation with them on the mother side Some bin axmed tribes married amxaarin princes from Ethiopian highlands when ahmed gran was fighting menelik the first adeer taarikda isxaaq we qorantahay from al xijaaz to harrar You an Am-XAAR without a doubt. Ahmed Gran? Who is Ahmed Gran? and whats an Amxaarin? is that what they call AM-XAAR-O in your language? Your language betrayed you Roaddawg, Somalis don't talk like that. So that makes you an Am-XAAR.

^^Don't you wish they had better English schools in Adis Abeba

^^^What does it tell you that you are the only one defending this dead theory? No one in his right mind will come to your aid. General Duke, Mr.Red Sea all the other folks who were supporting you at the start know better now. We are Somalis. You are an Am-XAAR. So there are NO Arabs here.

^^How many nicknames have you got on Somaliaonline? Isn't it time for a new alias?

^^como estan roaddawg, stop this emotional nonsence. We all know your are Naxar Nugaaleed, Ersalem & all the other undercover am-XAAR-o's. I have been checking ur IP-adress These Am-XAAR-o's come to Somali boards/chats to spread clannist filth and try to seperate people allong clan lines. Wake up Somalis, they are among us.

Us Somalis know as this researcher has pointed out that the political identity formation in Northern Somalia is along clan lines. The Waqooyi-Galbeed clans are the diving force behind the secessionist cause, whereas the Neo-Darwiish clan has cultivated an identity that centres around Somali Nationalism while looking at its Dervish past for inspiration. Puntland on the other hand is striving for a more pragmatic cause in the current political climate in Somalia, namely a Federal Somali State build along clan lines. These three different political identities that coexist in today’s Northern Somalia are not sustainable in the long term, because of their conflicting interest and the inherent instability of the clan system. Furthermore they are doing irreversible damage to the ideal of Somalinimo and the peaceful coexistence of all Somali clans in one Somali state. The formation of these irreconcilable identities in today’s Northern Somalia are laying the foundations of tomorrows warring mini-states. The political elites of the respective clans of Northern Somalia have appealed to the clan consciousness of their people and for the past 16 years none of the political identities that have been formed has transcended the clan barrier. The Puntland identity has had limited success in replacing the Somali Nationalism in the Neo-Darwiish areas but it has fared better than Somaliland in the Neo-Darwiish regions because of two main points, namely: Puntland does not want to secede from the rest of Somalia and the shared genealogical lineage with the people of the Neo-Darwiish regions. Puntland has also tried to incorporate the Neo-Darwiish identity in its state by for example naming its army the Puntland Daraawiish and by choosing a capital that is near the Neo-Darwiish region. These mini-state (clan) identities have been replacing the Somali National identity that has been promoted by the early democratic governments of Somalia and the Socialist regime. The formation of these mini-state (clan) identities has been very successful. In influential sections of the population the ideal of Somalinimo has been downgraded to a discredited ideology just like its cousin Somaliweyn. In my opinion there is a link between clan power and Somali Nationalism. The higher the influence and power a clan has the less importance it attaches to a strong central authority & Somali Nationalism. The powerful clans see a strong central authority as threat. Clans operate in the clan’s interests and not in the national interest. Each one of the powerful clans sees the central authority as a tool that can be manipulated for their clan’s perceived interests. In the event that a powerful clan sees that their interests are not served by the central authority the powerful clan rebels against it as we have seen in the early clan based rebel movements of Somalia. The less powerful clans on the other hand prefer a strong central authority for exactly the opposite reasons. The less powerful clans see that only a strong central authority can guarantee that their interests are served. In the past we have seen that Somali Nationalism has always had the support of the smaller clans, while it was opposed by the larger clans. The Daraawiish and the SYL 13 are perfect examples of the role that the smaller clans have played in the struggle for Somali liberation while the powerful clans have been willing collaborators with the colonialists. So although Somalinimo & Somaliweyn are downgraded to discredited ideologies in some sections of the Somali population, these ideas are far from dead. Somalinimo still lingers in the memories of the older generation Somali Nationalists and the awakening young patriots and it has a powerbase in all regions and among all clans, especially in the less powerful clans. So ME proposes the alliance of the smaller clans of Somalia to counter the threat posed by the power hungry egotistical,unpatriotic clans. So in your opinion do you think there is a link between clan size and loyalty to the Nation?

Political identity, emerging state structures and conflict in northern Somalia Markus V. Höhne Max Planck Institute for Social Anthropology, Halle/Saale, Germany. The Journal of Modern African Studies, Volume 44, Issue 03, Sep 2006, pp 397-414 doi: 10.1017/S0022278X06001820, Published online by Cambridge University Press 03 Aug 2006 (In this article the clan names have been replaced by regional names, it might confuse you sometimes, but I think you will figure it out). Abstract This paper discusses the logic of political identification by individuals and groups in the context of re-emerging state structures in northern Somalia. Current identities are analysed as political identities, which are both a product of and a driving force behind political and military conflict in the region. In everyday life political cleavages can be bridged by cross-cutting ties based on neighbourhood, intermarriage or common experiences and history. Only when conflict reaches a certain level and violence escalates, do political identities become mutually exclusive and large-scale fighting become a real threat. INTRODUCTION During the Somali civil war, all state institutions collapsed. Somalia had been led by the dictatorial government of Siyad Barre for more than two decades until 1991. During this period the state at least provided certain services. Over the last 14 years every attempt to rebuild it has failed. This, among a legion of other problems, has led to a crisis of political and national identity among many Somali, raising the question of people’s orientation towards the state. For people in northern Somalia, this question is not about parties or ideologies within a state or an international framework, but about the very existence of a state itself, and the individual and collective identities related to it. With Somaliland in northwestern Somalia and Puntland in northeastern Somalia, two de facto state administrations have been set up which partly fill the state vacuum (Doornbos 2000). As outlined below, their policies towards the future of the greater region and its inhabitants are incompatible and lead to conflict. I argue that as a result of the civil war and certain developments in northern Somalia, new identities have formed on the ground. These identities are not new in the sense that they are invented from scratch, but they combine existing identity markers in a way that is particularly meaningful in the current political context. According to Mamdani (2001: 20), these identities can be understood as political identities. He writes: ‘the process of state formation generates political identities that are distinct not only from market-based identities but also from cultural identities’. Mamdani sees the prescription of certain identities by law and the enforcement of these identities in the context of state-formation as central for the development of political identities. In this way political identities are ‘the consequence of how power is organized’ (ibid.: 22). But they are not only defined ‘from above’. They can also be forged ‘from below’ in the course of political action in contention with the state (ibid.: 23). Mamdani’s distinction between cultural and political identities is important. The former is based on a common past, while the latter testifies to a common project for the future. Furthermore, cultural identities tend to merge into one another and become blurred, while political identities develop towards polarisation and therefore ‘give rise to a kind of political difference where you must be either one or the other. … The difference becomes binary, not simply in law but in political life’ (ibid.). This process of dividing people according to different (legal) identities was, in both colonial and post-colonial times, often related to violence–that of either the colonisers or post-colonial governments against groups of subjects and vice versa (ibid.: 24–39). The Somali case differs in two ways from Mamdani’s discussion of political identities, which is based on the example of Rwanda. Firstly, in Somalia in general and northern Somalia in particular, legal prescription was less important for the forging of political identities than the political activities of colonial and post-colonial governments and the parties to the civil war. Secondly, the political identities discussed in this paper developed partly in the context of state-formation, and partly in the context of state collapse. These differences do not, however, make Mamdani’s concept inapplicable, but rather help to expand it. Political identities manifest themselves in northern Somalia today as the product of cumulative political conflict and violence, from the time of the anti-colonial uprising of Sayid Maxamed Cabdille Xassan 1899–1920 (see, for e.g. Hess 1968; Sheikh-‘Abdi 1993), up to the struggle of the Somali guerrilla movements in the 1980s and 1990s (see Compagnon 1990; Prunier 1995). A basic understanding of the history and the most salient aspects of political identities in Somalia can be grasped from the literature. According to the classic accounts of northern Somali society (Burton 1987 [1856]; Lewis 1961), patrilinear descent (tol in Somali), Somali customary law (xeer) and Islamic prescriptions were the fundamental principles of social organisation in pre-colonial Somalia. Samatar (1989: 152ff.; 1992: 633–41) and Kapteijns (1994: 220ff.) argue that this basis of society was transformed during colonial and post-colonial times in the context of political and economic change. According to their accounts, descent was increasingly detached from xeer and religion and was, especially under Siyad Barre, manipulated by power-hungry elites. They analyse this process as ‘clanism’. Kapteijns (1995: 258) states that clanism emerged in the colonial era ‘from specific struggles for power not only between the colonial state and local Somali leaders but also among Somali leaders themselves as they operated within (and manipulated) colonial realities’. These struggles continued in post-colonial times. In my view these are the dynamics to which the development of political identities in Somalia can be traced. The forging of mutually exclusive political identities accelerated in the days of fratricide in the Somali civil war, in the late 1980s in northern Somalia and the early 1990s in southern Somalia (see Africa Watch 1990; Human Rights Watch 1995: 22ff.), and continues today in the conflict between Somaliland and Puntland in northern Somalia. Against this background, this short paper focuses on the most recent phase of political identity-formation in northern Somalia. Identities are very flexible in this setting, due to the common practice of ‘climbing up’ or ‘down’ the chain of male ancestors, on which the segmentary lineage system of Somali society is built. However, this kind of cultural identity, to use Mamdani’s phrase, does not contradict the existence of political identities. Segmentary identities, such as clan family, clan and sub-clan are different from the political identity described above, even though in the Somali case they can be incorporated into it. It is nevertheless important to see political identities as non-static. Mamdani describes the formation of political identities as a process and, as is known from cases of Hutu–Tutsi massacres, the final separation of Hutu and Tutsi at the local level often happened in the very act of killing (Appadurai 1998: 232ff.; Malkki 1995: 78ff.). This was when bonds of neighbourhood, friendship and affinal ties and so on were finally cut. In everyday life, political identities are characterised by a certain flexibility and openness. Mamdani (2001: 20) states that cultural, economic and political identities can overlap significantly. However, flexibility vanishes when violence comes into play. There follows a brief outline of the current political situation in northern Somalia. Then I describe two identity clusters, which form the basis of political identities in this setting. By showing how these identities are expressed, certain internal contradictions regarding the political claims and the exclusiveness of each cluster become obvious. These contradictions are partly due to, and partly the basis for, cross-cutting ties, and facilitate peaceful cohabitation in the region. However, in the case of serious political and military conflict, these crosscutting ties are cut and mutually exclusive blocks confront each other. Somaliland is presented by the government in Hargeysa as an independent state, which seceded from the rest of Somalia in the borders of the former British Protectorate. Its inhabitants belong to different clan families: Waqooyi-Galbeed, Awdal and Northcentral/Northeastern. The Somaliland government claims international recognition for its country on the basis of the clearly demarcated former colonial borders and the support of the majority of the population for independence, which was expressed in the approval of the Somaliland constitution in a public referendum in 2001 (Somaliland 2002). In the context of politics the term ‘Somalilander’ is used by local politicians and by other people pointing to the viability of Somaliland as a nation state borne by a nascent Somaliland national identity. Puntland is, according to its constitution, part of the Somali state and works towards rebuilding the Somali government. The government in Garowe is based on an alliance of different Northcentral/Northeastern clans, such as Bosaso, Neo-Darwiish and Maakhir (Battera 1999).7 Apart from this genealogical identity, the Somali national identity is adhered to. People supporting Puntland very rarely refer to themselves as ‘Puntlanders’. Mostly they use the term ‘Somali’ when speaking about their nationality. These different positions conflict most severely with regard to, and also in, the Northcentral/Northeastern inhabited regions of Sool and Sanaag, which are, depending on one’s political position, in eastern Somaliland or western Puntland. These regions are claimed by each of the two governments in northern Somalia. The propaganda issued in the political centres, but also discussions about and manifestations of political identity in daily life, reflect the tensions between the Somaliland and the Puntlander/Somali identity in the study area. Hargeysa/Central West Somaliland General setting Mostly Waqooyi-Galbeed live in the central west of Somaliland. The Waqooyi-Galbeed are the majority clan family in Somaliland and in colonial times were closely linked to the British. When Somaliland gained its independence on 26 June 1960 political power was in the hands of the Waqooyi-Galbeed. Following unification with the south on 1 July 1960, however, the Waqooyi-Galbeed became politically marginalised, and most social and economic developments took place in the south. This resulted in a large-scale migration of people from northwest Somalia to southern Somalia to obtain higher education and in pursuit of work. The uneasy relationship with the government in Moqdishu, especially under the military dictator Siyad Barre, finally led to the formation of the Somali National Movement (SNM) in 1981. This guerrilla organisation was mostly Waqooyi-Galbeed based. After the SNM had taken control over the northwest in the context of a general collapse of the state in early 1991, the independence of Somaliland was proclaimed at a conference of all clans living in the region held in Burco. In the last 15 years peace has been restored and a government with its seat in Hargeysa established; since 2001 serious steps have been undertaken to transform the clan-based system of governance into a more democratic system. Expression of identity In early February 2004, a delegation of British parliamentarians arrived in Hargeysa for a 24-hour visit to Somaliland. A splendid welcome was staged at the airport. About two hundred people filled the margins of the airstrip at nine in the morning. In anticipation of the arrival of the plane in 2 hours time, Foreign Minister Edna Aaden and Minister for Information Cabdullahi Maxamed Du’aale, assisted by some policemen and women, organised the show. Girls wearing dresses resembling traditional Somali women’s wear were put in line to the right and left of the estimated landing place. The traditional white of the dress had been replaced by the green, white and red of the Somaliland flag. The girls started singing and dancing to the monotonous beat of their drums long before the arrival of the delegation. In the centre stood a group of men consisting mostly of members of the bicameral Somaliland Parliament in which elders and representatives represent the clans and regions of Somaliland. A handful of World War II veterans decorated with British medals also took their positions. The scene was completed by the presence of John Drysdale, the oldest British resident of Somaliland, who has been involved in Somali affairs since colonial times. Among the participants masses of posters with the Somaliland flag and a picture of Queen Elisabeth II were distributed. The headline on the Queen’s poster was: ‘The Queen, our mother’. Some people held large banners with messages referring to the long-standing British–Somaliland friendship and to the recent history of Somaliland. Journalists swept the place photographing and filming the parade. In the background an armada of new four-wheel drives waited to take the VIPs to the city. When the parliamentarians arrived, Edna Aaden and the Minister for Information first received them. Some girls stepped forward and decorated the guests with wreaths of flowers. Following this, Edna Aaden led the group along the masses, whilst the girls danced and sang and the men greeted the guests. Brief conversations were held with the members of the Somaliland Parliament, the war veterans and of course, with John Drysdale. After 15 minutes of shaking hands and posing for the cameras of the journalists, the guests together with the more important participants in the event were carried away by the waiting cars. Along the way to the city spectators had gathered shouting and gesticulating at every car that came from the airport. The police blocked the main roads in the centre of Hargeysa and only government vehicles were allowed to proceed. The event was interesting with regard to which aspects of the Somaliland identity were presented and which were neglected. It was striking how openly the memory of the colonial past was revived. Looking at the scene one could almost think that Somaliland was still a British Protectorate, and indeed, strove after British protection. Not in the sense that the British government should take control of Somaliland once again, but in the sense that London should protect and facilitate Somaliland’s way to international recognition. An amusing example for the direct relation of the ‘airport choreography’ and this political agenda could be read in the papers the following day: it was reported that the war veterans had asked the visitors for their pensions as former British soldiers; however, the veterans assured them that they would happily renounce their claims if the British government would recognise Somaliland. The second theme of the event was the achievements of the Republic of Somaliland since its establishment. The peace and stability of the country were represented by the masses of girls dancing and singing and the absence of any great number of security forces. The ministers and the members of the Somaliland Parliament stood for what has been accomplished politically so far, almost without external help. The idea behind this was simple: the only thing Somaliland is renowned for internationally is its peacefulness and the innovative way in which a new political system has been established. This distinguishes it from the rest of Somalia, where heavy fighting still flares up occasionally Equally important to what was presented at the airport is what was omitted. The 30 years in which the north and the south of Somalia were one country were hidden. The logic behind this huge historical gap is that any relationship with southern Somalia except economic cooperation is an obstacle to Somaliland’s claim to be an independent country deserving international recognition. But this historical omission leads to contradictions with regard to the experiences of the older generation. People over 40, in particular, remember Somalia as it was in the 1960s and 1970s, with a strong national army and widespread international relations. Some of these older Somalis, including some of the active SNM fighters, prefer a future reunion with the south to the independence of Somaliland. They argue that the economy of Somaliland is weak and the number of its people too few to defend itself against potential enemies such as Ethiopia. In their view, economic development and independence based on military power can only be reached together with the Somalis in the south, who are their brothers and sisters, even if split by civil war. Furthermore, at the airport no reference was made to the SNM and its long and bloody war against the former Somali regime. This is consistent with the current political line of the Somaliland government. The SNM has had its role in the past, but now civilians have succeeded to the rule of the guerrillas, who were almost exclusively Waqooyi-Galbeed. Somaliland today is eager to present itself as a multi-clan state where peace reigns. Efforts were made to efface the intra- and inter-clan warfare, which dominated the guerrilla war and the first years following secession from Somalia. But in fact some of the old inter-clan and political tensions prevail. When politics are discussed in the market of Hargeysa, members of the Dclan family (including the Northcentral/Northeastern clans) are refered to as ‘fa-qash’. The same term is used for people who had positions in the former Somali government in general, including Waqooyi-Galbeed, many of whom have high-ranking positions in the current Somaliland government. ‘Fa-qash’ is translated by Hashi (1998: 170) as ‘a Dirty or corrupt person; filth’. Laascaanood/eastern Somaliland–western Puntland General setting Laascaanood is the capital of the Sool region. Neo-Darwiish, a branch of the Northcentral/Northeastern clan, almost exclusively inhabits Sool. In the early twentieth century the area was the setting for an anti-colonial uprising led by the Oga-den sheikh, poet and politician Maxamed Cabdille Xassan. His followers were called Dervishes (Daraawiishta), the majority of whom were Neo-Darwiish. They fought mostly against the British, aided by Waqooyi-Galbeed troops. Following the defeat of the Dervishes in 1921, the Neo-Darwiish area was effectively incorporated in the British Protectorate. In the 1970s and 1980s, most Neo-Darwiish, being Dclan, supported the regime of Siyad Barre, who belonged to the Gedo clan of the Dclan family. A further factor strengthening this alliance was the appointment of Axmed Suleban ‘Daffle’, a Neo-Darwiish, as the head of the National Security Service (NSS), making him one of the most powerful men in the state. Until 1991 the clan fought on the side of the government against the guerrillas. When the SNM took over most of the northwest of Somalia, the representatives of the Neo-Darwiish agreed on peace with the Waqooyi-Galbeed. But the majority of the clan did not accept the programme of secession from Somalia agreed on in Burco. In the years that followed the social and political progress of Somaliland was achieved while excluding the Sool region and largely without the participation of the Neo-Darwiish . In opposition to Hargeysa, the Neo-Darwiish played a prominent role in the establishment of Puntland as a Northcentral/Northeastern state in northeast Somalia in 1998. A Neo-Darwiish was made vice president, and the Neo-Darwiish thus became the second power after the Bosaso, the ‘older’ Northcentral/Northeastern brother. The inhabitants of the Sool region have since been split between Somaliland and Puntland. Expression of identity I first met Xassan in Laascaanood in November 2003. He was a Neo-Darwiish, who at the time of our meeting had come only for a visit to Laascaanood. He came from Garowe, the capital of Puntland, where he worked as a high-ranking member of the government. Xassan invited me to visit him in Garowe. I accepted his invitation and spent about a week with him. We talked, among other things, about Dervish history. Xassan told me of his family’s, the Bihidarays, conflict with Maxamed Cabdille Xassan during which the Dervishes massacred several of the Bihidarays men. In reaction to this his family had allied with the British and was involved in one of the most devastating defeats of the Dervishes in a place called Jidbaale in the western Sool region. As Xassan put it: ‘we defeated him [Maxamed Cabdille Xassan] in Jidbaale’. According to Xassan a man called Cawke ‘Jabane’ (Cawke Cabdi Aaden), the leader of Bihidarays in those days, advised the British on how to deal with the Dervishes, including the tactics that later led to their defeat. Some days later as Xassan and I walked the streets, and his mood was jollier, he began to sing poems composed by Maxamed Cabille Xassan. I asked him about that and he answered: ‘I am a Dervish!’ I was told that Xassan was one of the men who had organised the attack against the Somaliland President Dahir Rayaale Kahin in Laascaanood in December 2002. This attack is one of the recent heroic tales told by Puntland hardliners in Laascaanood, and I was very interested in researching it further. Xassan confirmed that he had been involved in this event and gave me an outline of what had happened. Dahir Rayaale Kahin visited Laascaanood on 7 December 2002; hardly anyone in Somaliland or Puntland was informed about this. More than a dozen ‘technicals’ (pick-up trucks mounting heavy machine guns) and about 200 soldiers accompanied the president. In the town several Somaliland followers had organised a number of local forces. The visit was unprecedented; no Somaliland president had previously dared to step foot in Sool. Puntland had to react, even if totally unprepared. Xassan together with some other Neo-Darwiish politicians collected a force of three technicals and led them from Garowe to Laascaanood. In the early afternoon they passed the eastern checkpoint of Laascaanood without being stopped by the local forces posted to guard the place for Somaliland; the soldiers at the checkpoint were closely related to Xassan. As they entered the town the Puntland forces immediately opened fire, to the utter shock of the Somaliland troops. Following a fierce exchange of fire lasting about 15 minutes, the Somaliland president ordered his troops to retreat. He feared a general uprising of the Puntland followers in town and wanted to avoid bloodshed among civilians. The president left Laascaanood hastily and retreated to Caynabo, a district town in western Sool where Waqooyi-Galbeed are predominant. On the side of Puntland, this rather chaotic operation was hailed as a great victory. Shocked by the event Daahir Raayale Kahin ordered his local shadow administration to leave Laascaanood in the following months. This paved the way for the effective occupation of the regional capital by Puntland one year later, in December 2003. The next time I saw Xassan was in Laascaanood in late January 2004. He told me that he would remain in town for the next few months as a member of the new Puntland administration. I was astonished to hear three weeks later that Xassan had deserted the Puntland camp and come to Hargeysa, where he had been received well. That a high-ranking member of the administration of the ‘enemy’ had switched sides was celebrated as a victory for Somaliland in the newspapers in Hargeysa. In March I had a chance to meet Xassan in the capital of Somaliland. When I asked him about his change of mind, he said that he had had a disagreement with the Puntland leadership about politics in Sool. In Xassan’s view, Puntland just pushed more and more soldiers into the region, which burdened the already low economy of the state (Puntland) and provoked a military confrontation with Somaliland. An escalation of violence in Laascaanood and Sool would only cause mayhem among the local population, which was already in the grip of a severe drought. There was a more personal reason behind Xassan’s decision to leave Puntland, however. He had not received his salary for about six months, and neither had most of the members of the administration and the army. Furthermore, he felt inadequate and uninspired under the dictatorial rule of President Cabdullahi Yusuf. This is admittedly an extreme episode, and is also limited to Laascaanood and the Sool regions. Nevertheless, it reveals some important aspects of the political identity of many inhabitants of the region, including some contradictions. To call oneself ‘Dervish’ has two meanings in the current political context of the Sool region, both of which can be located in history. Firstly, in the post-colonial years Maxamed Cabdille Xassan was forged as a national hero who fought with his troops for the political unity of all Somalis. To claim to be a Dervish today refers to the vision of building a strong Somali state united once more, against the secessionism of the Waqooyi-Galbeed, as many Neo-Darwiish see it. Secondly, Maxamed Cabdille Xassan’s contribution extended further than anti-colonial resistance. As oral and written accounts show, he also fought for power in northern Somalia against traditional rulers and their clans, such as Boqor Cusman, the ‘king’ of the Bosaso, the clan currently dominating Puntland politics. Today the term ‘Dervish’ gives an identity to the Neo-Darwiish in Sool who belong neither to Somaliland nor to Puntland. Due to this indefinite position, Sool is one of the least developed regions in northern Somalia. Only one international organisation has a permanent presence there, and not much comes from either Hargeysa or Garowe. Apart from the heroic tales of the Dervish struggle, the cultural heritage left by Maxamed Cabdille Xassan as a poet is a source of pride for the impoverished Dervishes of today. Neo-Darwiish today monopolise the Dervish history and use it for political reasons, to distinguish themselves as the ‘Somali’ Neo-Darwiish from the ‘British’ Waqooyi-Galbeed. This aspect of political identity, condensed to ‘everyday propaganda’, can be summarised as follows: while the Waqooyi-Galbeed clans have been allies of the British in the colonial past and today call upon them to back their ambitions of separating from Somalia, the Neo-Darwiish have always remained loyal Somali ‘nationalists’. This contradicts the more realistic and locally well-known accounts of the history of numerous individuals and families. A good number of Neo-Darwiish in fact deserted Maxamed Cabdille Xassan’s camp and joined the British, while some Waqooyi-Galbeed, especially in the first years of the uprising, joined the Dervishes. Xassan’s story also reveals the feeble nature of the loyalty of many Neo-Darwiish to either state, which is largely determined by material gain of some sort (e.g. a salary or an aid project) from the Somaliland or the Puntland side. When, however, the conflict between Somaliland and Puntland escalates, most Neo-Darwiish ally with their Northcentral/Northeastern brothers. This is clearly demonstrated by the defeat of the Somaliland president in Laascaanood. Northcentral/Northeastern politicians try to forge a ‘natural’ divide between the Waqooyi-Galbeed on the one side and the different Northcentral/Northeastern clans on the other. They therefore have to neglect the cultural and social closeness which developed under British rule between the Neo-Darwiish and the Waqooyi-Galbeed. Members of these two groups studied together in school, and served together as clerks, soldiers or policemen under the British administration. They internalised the ‘British system’, which was distinct from the ‘Italian system’ that the Bosaso and the other former Italian colonial subjects had internalised. On a more local level, intermarriage patterns reveal intensive relations between Neo-Darwiish and Waqooyi-Galbeed clans who have lived for decades as neighbours in the central and northeastern regions of Somaliland. Intermarriage with the Bosaso is not as strong, as many Neo-Darwiish admit freely. Neo-Darwiish elders, asked about what relates their clan to the Waqooyi-Galbeed, quite often reply: ‘Waa isku degaan, waa isku dhaqan; waanu is dhalnay.’ (‘We live in the same area, we have the same culture; we gave birth to each other.’) The desertion of Xassan from Puntland to Somaliland is only partly representative, even if there are similar cases among the Neo-Darwiish highlighting their political flexibility, such as the former speaker of the Parliament in Hargeysa, who deserted Somaliland and became minister of interior in Puntland. However, what might manifest as extreme shifts at the level of politicians, points to a more basic pattern among ordinary people. Many Neo-Darwiish are indeed suspicious of the dictatorial ruling style of the old soldier and warlord Cabdullahi Yusuf. They need him to defend them against complete incorporation into Somaliland, but do not want him to take full control of their affairs. Clearly a number of Neo-Darwiish try to benefit economically from this ambiguity. Some work as politicians or soldiers for the government in Hargeysa, and others for the government in Garowe. The explanation given is that this is merely a pragmatic arrangement, which does not express political beliefs. What matters most is to generate some income in a poor region; politically one does not want to get involved in any trouble. But this obviously does not always work out. When Puntland forces finally entered Laascaanood in a police operation in December 2003, their presence was discreetly criticised by a number of people in town. However, the forces stayed and were massively reinforced by troops in the course of establishing a military administration. In this situation, the uneasiness with domination did not cause the majority of the Neo-Darwiish to switch sides and fully support Somaliland. On the contrary, the Puntland military administration was gradually transformed into a civil administration, which is currently relatively well established in Laascaanood. The main reason for this is that Puntland represents the vision of a re-united Somalia. This fits well with the political attitude of many Neo-Darwiish, who take pride in being the ones holding secessionist Somaliland and war-torn Somalia together. Both de facto state administrations in northern Somalia exploit a variety of different identity markers, based on the everyday or collectively remembered experience of the people living in the greater region, for their political purposes. Hargeysa stresses the common colonial history, which led to a cultural closeness of the people from the former Protectorate of Somaliland, and the inclusive peace process in the 1990s, to incorporate non-Waqooyi-Galbeed into Somaliland. Thereby a political identity–Somalilander–was constructed from above. However, this only works because it relates to certain realities on the ground, where people had similar experiences under British colonial rule, later suffered from and fought in the civil war, and, after a phase of desperation, saw new opportunities for themselves in Somaliland, especially in its prospering capital. Yet, even among the Waqooyi-Galbeed, to whom most of the features of the Somaliland political identity apply, not everyone complies with the policies of the government in Hargeysa. It is hardly astonishing that the Northcentral/Northeastern in Sool (and Sanaag) who in the perspective of Hargeysa belong to Somaliland, without sharing most of these preconditions, are distant from the self-declared Republic. This distance has its deeper roots in a genuine, historically and culturally based reluctance of the Northcentral/Northeastern clans to become fully integrated. Over the years this has given a comparatively lower political profile to the Northcentral/Northeastern in Hargeysa, as well as the absence of an effective Somaliland administration and the stagnation of development in the regions they inhabit. Garowe is eager to attract the Neo-Darwiish and Maakhir as Northcentral/Northeastern brothers by granting them a clan-balanced share in the government, and by adhering to the vision of a united (but federal) Somalia. With the exception of a few individuals, all Neo-Darwiish with whom I spoke about the political future of the Somali shared this vision. By sabotaging the full integration of Somaliland in its colonial borders, Puntland politicians hope to prevent its definitive split from Somalia. Nevertheless, historical events as well as social and cultural practices divide the Northcentral/Northeastern along the former colonial division. Furthermore, two internal political problems of Puntland restrict its political success. Firstly, despite its ‘clan-democratic’ constitution, Puntland still resembles a military dictatorship, in which not much can be done against the will of Col. Cabdullahi Yusuf and his close family. Secondly, due to severe corruption in the government and the very high cost of the Puntland delegation to the Somali peace conference in Mbagathi/Nairobi, the administration is chronically short of money; when even members of the government, the armed forces and the civil administration get their salaries very irregularly or not at all, not much can be given to the communities in the contested Northcentral/Northeastern regions to firmly link them to Puntland. It is clear that the political identities presented in this paper are not ‘invented’. They have, to rephrase Schlee (2004: 148), ‘a certain reality about them, [especially] in the sense of having real effects’. As long as the two administrations in northern Somalia and their followers play their political games without reaching a definitive political conclusion, individuals and groups can manoeuvre. Thus a clash of political identities can be avoided, due to the inconsistencies and contradictions inside the identity clusters which result from and in turn reinforce the cross-cutting ties between them. Peace can be kept in normal life, even if the incompatible positions between ‘Somalilanders’ and the adherents of Puntland/Somalia come to the fore in discussions. However, when either the Somaliland or the Puntland side tries to enforce its policy on the ground, the territorial and mental borders of the political identities close, and serious tensions escalate to the level of military confrontation. This happened on 29 October 2004, when Somaliland and Puntland forces clashed in the countryside near the village of Adhiadeye, about 30 km northeast of Lasscaanood. About 15 soldiers were killed on each side, and several dozen were wounded. Immediately after this event the political climate on the ground worsened, and even people who had previously had a tolerant political position, became extreme in their support for either Somaliland or Puntland. Staying in Hargeysa in October and November 2004, I could observe that the borders of the identity clusters closed; for several nights Waqooyi-Galbeed neighbours threw stones at the houses of a Neo-Darwiish member of the House of Representatives of Somaliland, who had lived with his family in the city for years. In reaction to this the family left Hargeysa for Lasscaanood, which was safe according to genealogical logic. This was not an isolated case. To be a Neo-Darwiish became an accusation in Hargeysa in those days, regardless of one’s personal background. So far the process of state-formation in northern Somalia is basically limited to the core regions of each of the two political entities in the study area. Further endeavours to set up a fully effective state (be it Somaliland or Puntland/Somalia) recognised under international law may produce a large-scale armed conflict.

^^Pick sides old man, this won't get you out of it. Noble of not do you agree with him? Or do you agree with the overwhelming evidence against his absurd claims.