Democracy Up Close In Somaliland: Reflections Of An International Election Observer

[Siciid1986]

Democracy Up Close In Somaliland: Reflections Of An International Election Observer

 

 

In May 1991, Somaliland emerged as a self-declared independent state in the aftermath of the failure and subsequent collapse of Siyad Barre’s Somalia. Although ethnically and linguistically Somalilanders are undifferentiated from their counterparts in southern Somalia, the northwestern region of Somalia has achieved an important distinction: while Somalia remains fundamentally anarchic, with no substantial national government to speak of, Somaliland is conversely peaceful, democratic, and remarkably safe by comparison. The de facto state held successful national elections in 2003 (presidential), 2005 (parliamentary), and again in 2010 (presidential). International Election Observers (IEOs), along with Domestic Observers (DOs), participated in monitoring each of these processes, concluding that elections were substantially free and fair. Nevertheless, Somaliland remains internationally unrecognized and is considered under international law to be a province of non-functioning Somalia.

On November 28, 2012, Somalilanders once again went to the polls to participate in district level elections. Representing seven political parties, nearly 2,400 candidates – including 140 women – contested 379 positions across the country. In addition to selecting district-level policymakers, the elections carried national significance: of the seven competing parties, the three that received the most votes became the only three political parties legally capable of contesting elections in Somaliland for the next decade.

 

I participated as a member of the 50-person IEO team deployed in Somaliland to observe the polling process across the country. Observers from 17 countries were assembled in 25 two-person teams and, on election day, visited roughly 20% of Somaliland’s 1,700 polling places. The following is a personal account of my experience on election day, 28 November 2012, deployed around Salaxley, Somaliland.

 

Salaxley looks, inevitably, like a thousand other small Somali towns. The wide dirt strip running through the center of town is merely a continuation of the wide dirt landscape in which the town is situated. There is no vegetation anywhere in sight, save for the low scrub bushes and the occasional Acacia tree. To me, the location of the town seems utterly random: why here? It may as well be situated at any other location in a twenty-mile radius as far as I can tell. But, surely some reason exists. I know little of life here, and to me simple survival in this harsh landscape overwhelms comprehension. The town is comprised of a collection of makeshift buildings and shelters, stretching for perhaps 300 or 400 meters alongside the road. There are several small shops, perhaps just three or four shelves selling a few items, dotted into faded mud-brick buildings. At least one dirt-floored ‘restaurant’ is constructed of sticks, metal sheeting, plastic, and other found materials. ‘Baasto’ is on the menu.

 

But, we are not here to eat (though we will return for that purpose hours later). The first polling station of the day, No. 419, is located on the edge of town. Situated in a tiny crumbling building, two lines – one for men, one for women – are already forming outside. It’s 6:30am, and polls open in 30 minutes. My partner Nada and I loop our NEC credentials around our necks and don the bright red ‘international observer’ hats; hers goes over a headscarf gracefully encircling her face. As we step out of our vehicle, eyes are on us. But, the faces we see are excited and predominantly friendly. Our presence means that the world is watching Somaliland, even in the tiny town of Salaxley, seemingly a place removed from the hum of our increasingly connected world.

 

Glancing around at the building, I notice a party flag flying next to the door. Xaqsoor’s (pronounced similarly to ‘hack-saw’) colors are yellow and white, but they should not be raised here. The campaign period is over; Somaliland election laws dictate that polling stations must be free of campaign materials on election day. But, perhaps nobody got the memo. The crowd outside the door parts for us, and the policeman at the door – military fatigues, black boots, blue beret, and a well-used automatic rifle over one shoulder – glances quickly at our cards before allowing us to enter. Inside, there is barely enough room to move.

 

The polling station staff includes four people: a chairman, secretary, and two ‘scrutineers’ responsible for inspecting and applying the all-important ‘indelible’ ink, which will in theory serve as a sufficient replacement for a national voter registry. Ideally, the first scrutineer greets voters by inspecting the little finger of their left hand for ink. If no ink is found the voter steps in to the polling station chair and secretary, where one records by hand the voter’s name and approximate age in a record book containing a hand-written log of every ballot number. If the voter is under 16 years of age, judged according to appearance because few people have any kind of official identity document, a ballot is issued. If the voter appears too young, the chair and secretary can question the person to determine their age. In a dispute, someone from the community – perhaps an elder, or just a neighbor – can be consulted.

 

Once the ballot is issued, a makeshift voting booth is located in the corner behind a white sheet, strung up with string to a nearby bench. The ballot box, a clear plastic bin sealed with plastic ties on the corners, is on the floor in the middle of the room, within sight of all. In theory, the process is sound, democratic, and transparent. In practice, the challenges of making this system work well in Somaliland – or, probably, any place facing the particular constellation of issues that Somaliland faces – are significant. Our experiences over the day will reveal as much.

 

In addition to the polling station staff, agents for each party – Kulmiye, UCID, Rays, Waddani, Dalsan, Umadda, and Xaqsoor – are seated along the walls of the room, the goal of increased transparency clearly in mind. No one without official credentials, with the exception of voters, should be inside the polling station at any time. In particular, men with guns should remain outdoors. But that rule, too, we found lacking in practice.

 

 

 

The drive from Salaxley to the next station is long, and it is now hot. The driver has asked around and identified what is supposed to be the next closest station. As we leave the town behind and head off into the bush, I am perplexed at how the driver can possibly know where we are going. Every direction appears as more of the same, and as the drive bumps along and the sun rises higher in the sky, all I can think is that my half empty water bottle will not last very long if the vehicle breaks down. My well-watered self would not last one afternoon in this bone-dry environment. I share this sentiment with Nada, which she finds quite funny: we agree that she would hands down out-survive me because of her Somali blood.

 

Panoramic views fly by our windows, but the drive seems never-ending. It is only 8:30am, but we’ve been up since 3:30 and on the road since 4am. This will be a long day. Fortunately, Nada and I find much to talk and laugh about. We are, at the outset, very different people, raised in utterly different places, accustomed to divergent cultural practices, and holding dear wildly different ideas about faith. But what we quickly discover is that none of these impede our ability to connect, and indeed, we do. Talking passes the time and makes light of the fact that we’re completely disconnected from the rest of the world, hours from anything familiar.

[Siciid1986]

Although the polling stations become more rural, farther and farther apart, we notice the same patterns repeatedly. One of the first things we realize is that the supposedly ‘indelible’ ink, the primary bulwark against multiple voting, is hardly indelible at all. In some cases, the ink is simply insufficiently applied. In the afternoon, it is clear that many people, particularly men, are reluctant to have their fingers inked. Some men attempt to wriggle away from a ‘full dip,’ in which case the scrutineer must be extra-assertive in grabbing the voter’s wrist and jamming the finger into the ink container. But when the scrutineer is a woman, which was often the case, this task is more difficult.

 

It was common to watch voters pull a rag from their pocket immediately after having their fingers inked in order to quickly wipe the ink away before it set. Outside the stations, another phenomenon is observed: typically on the side or behind the polling station, an informal ‘de-inking’ station is set up where voters can use bleach or other substances to try and remove the ink, or otherwise apply some kind of oil prior to voting in order to prevent the ink from sticking. Unfortunately, the voting stations we visited had no way to deal with this ambitious behavior, and therefore a great deal of responsibility fell on the scrutineers to both wipe fingers before applying ink, and to be vigorous in its application. Where scrutineers were typically the least trained members of the polling station staff, this process was not always effective.

 

 

 

From my impression of the November 2012 elections, multiple voting did not necessarily violate the integrity of the process in a way that would call into question the democratic nature of the outcome. Although the tenet of one-person one-vote seems a basic principle of the electoral process, the most important observation we made is that the phenomenon of multiple voting appeared to have a completely different meaning and significance in the Somaliland context. This is apparent in two ways: first, from the perspective of voters, who seemed not to be fully aware that voting more than once was in any way a bad thing. At one point in the days following the election, I was engaged in a brief conversation with a Somali man who, after learning my nationality, asked me if I voted for Barack Obama (who is naturally quite popular across Africa). After I answered in the affirmative, the man asked with total seriousness, “how many times?” When I told him “just once,” he enthusiastically proclaimed that he had been able to vote five times for his candidate of choice! In fact, I had similar exchanges with a number of voters after asking them if they had voted, and all proudly and unabashedly indicated the number of times they had voted – usually more than once. In this sense, multiple voting can be viewed practically as an outgrowth of enthusiasm for the democratic process: this is indeed a positive takeaway from a phenomenon that might otherwise be viewed as fundamentally undemocratic.

 

The second important consideration is that multiple voting, widespread as it was, did not appear – at least in any obvious way – to be dominated by one or a few parties. Rather, it seemed to be widely distributed, ‘cheating’ indeed but, as one other international observer put it, ‘equal opportunity cheating.’ So although in these elections there were no doubt more votes cast than individuals who voted, it still seems highly likely that the outcome of the election represents the general will of the people, which is ultimately the most important goal of any democratic process. (Although it should be noted that the results are currently disputed by representatives of several parties that did not meet the threshold for becoming official parties; these groups claim that multiple voting was in fact orchestrated by the party currently in power [Kulmiye]. No international observers that I spoke to made this assertion, nor did any make note of one-party dominated multiple voting.) Moreover, we did not witness more blatant forms of cheating such as ballot stuffing (although one IEO did report a ballot box being seized by the police). In this sense, the primary testament to Somaliland’s democracy is that the population remains enthusiastic about the process. Although the process did break down in several ways – the not so indelible ink being the most important – the break down happened within the confines of a democratic system and, significantly, did not challenge this system in any fundamental way. While the process was imperfect, the outcome nevertheless represents further consolidation of a democratic norm.

 

 

DUSTIN R. TURIN

[Che -Guevara]

What stands in this article is the description of the town-desolate and extremely poor,

[The Sage]

And yet despite their situation they believe in the democratic process enough to take time out of their day to vote. Rather inspiring actually

[Classified]

^ You're not being transparent. One of the fundamental pillars of Democracy is transparency and you're lacking that pillar itself, yet ironically celebrating a 'democratic process' that had nothing to do with democracy. I think any Somali clan is capable of setting up ballot boxes at their villages and towns, where the voters would vote for candidates whom not surprisingly are related to the voters one way or another.

 

Be transparent and the truth shall free you.

[Mustafe]

Che -Guevara;899994 wrote:

What stands in this article is the description of the town-desolate and extremely poor,

It would appear that YOU have gone out of your way to find something in the article that would negatively reflect on this democratic process. It was a well balanced article, which accurately described how the election and voting went, and when to your disappointment you did not find anything to sink your teeth into; you decided to point out that the town was poor and dusty lool. As if the tuulo you hail from is not poor and dusty. Dude please tone down your bitterness for its disgustingly obvious.

[Che -Guevara]

^Calm down, we are all poor and dusty unless you live in fairyland.

 

If I want to find something negative, I think multiple voting and poorly trained election officials would better thing to sink my teeth info. Wasn't there a person asking author how many times he voted for Obama...lool.

 

You can go on and celebrate the democracy on empty stomach,

 

You seem to be super sensitive, chill mate.

[Mustafe]

^^Which is why would've appeared more dignified if you just focused on the multiple voting rather than the dusty town. But the author himself suggested that the multiple voting itself did not necessarily discredit the democratic aspect of the voting.Ofcourse you were bright enough to understand that, and so you took your anger on the dusty town loool. Dude, what your doing is plainly obvious, so you might wanna refine your skills at least.

[Che -Guevara]

Okay Duqa.

[Mustafe]

^^Lol, Thats more like it sxb, raganimo. I hope that in this short exchange you will have learnt to prioritise for future reference at least;).

[Tallaabo]

Classified;900021 wrote:

^ You're not being transparent. One of the fundamental pillars of Democracy is transparency and you're lacking that pillar itself, yet ironically celebrating a 'democratic process' that had nothing to do with democracy. I think any Somali clan is capable of setting up ballot boxes at their villages and towns, where the voters would vote for candidates whom not surprisingly are related to the voters one way or another.

 

Be transparent and the truth shall free you.

Sure all Somali clans are capable of setting up polling stations in their respective villages to vote for their favourite "relatives". But why don't you encourage your tribe to do just that instead of being bitter about others who implement such process in their own villages?

[Blessed]

Classified

One of the fundamental pillars of Democracy is transparency and you're lacking that pillar itself, yet ironically celebrating a 'democratic process' that had nothing to do with democracy. I think any Somali clan is capable of setting up ballot boxes at their villages and towns, where the voters would vote for candidates whom not surprisingly are related to the voters one way or another.

 

This is a point that many on this forum have been repeating and it's quiet redundant to be honest. Off course local candidates hail from the local clan(s), however, there are several members of the same clan running for the local seat. These men (and women) are competing against other members of their clan as they represent a different party. Members of the same clan are consequently voting for different parties, or "a favourit cousin -- and his party". At the national level, the party with most wins across the board (all regions in SL) gets through, so they need to appeal to different qabaail to become a national party. Get it?? That's the most democratic Somalis will ever get.

 

If you must b*tch about the elections in Somaliland, there are vaild arguements to be made about the double voting, ballot boxes, independence of the election commission etc which weaken the democratic process -- but again, these issues have been raised and are being debated, addressed by the people of SL and hopefully lessons will be learned for the next election.

[Che -Guevara]

Mustafe;900094 wrote:

^^Lol, Thats more like it sxb, raganimo. I hope that in this short exchange you will have learnt to prioritise for future reference at least;).

Only thing came out of this, simply one should avoid kids from dusty villages with chips on their shoulders, Now go and bark somewhere..

[Homunculus]

You can fix all the problems of clan democracy if Somaliland change their electoral system. A proportional voting system that takes into account every vote for every party will make it more important to court all the people (or clans) instead of only catering to the majority. The only problem I can see from that system is the instability in forming coalitions, but at least this will encourage people to vote for a party and know that their vote counts.