Explore Somaliland, the unrecognized democracy in the Horn of Africa, where a 34-year experiment in self-rule has built peaceful elections, a resilient economy, a functioning healthcare system, and secured the strategic Berbera port — all without international recognition
HARGEISA — The MiG-17 fighter jet mounted high above Freedom Square, its nose tilted defiantly toward the sky, is both relic and warning.
The Soviet-made aircraft commemorates the 1988 bombardment of Hargeisa under the regime of Siad Barre, when much of this city was reduced to rubble. For residents, the monument is not simply a memory of war but a reminder of why they say their political path diverged from the rest of Somalia.
“This picture is a sadness, it’s a sorrow,” one resident told Australian journalist Avi Yemini, who has spent weeks reporting in the territory. “Somaliland will never forget this historic moment. We are together and we never go back.”
Yemini described his assignment in stark terms: arrival in a “rebel African country that officially doesn’t exist.” For Somalilanders, it is something else — a 34-year experiment in self-rule, conducted without formal international recognition and largely outside the global financial system.
Unlike neighboring Somalia, which has battled insurgency and fragmentation since 1991, Somaliland has built functioning institutions, held repeated elections and overseen peaceful transfers of power. Yet most countries still treat it as a federal region of Somalia rather than a sovereign state.
“Recognition isn’t about regime change,” Yemini said in one of his dispatches. “It’s about recognising reality.”
A brief independence, then a broken union
Somaliland’s leaders anchor their claim in history. Formerly known as British Somaliland, the territory gained independence on June 26, 1960, receiving recognition from dozens of countries. Five days later, it voluntarily united with the former Italian-administered south to create the Somali Republic.
That union, many here argue, quickly unraveled.
Political marginalization and economic neglect deepened tensions throughout the 1960s and 1970s, culminating in the late 1980s when government forces bombed northern cities.
Estimates of those killed range widely, from tens of thousands to more than 200,000.
When Somalia’s central government collapsed in 1991, Somaliland declared it was restoring the sovereignty it had briefly held three decades earlier. “Our case is not secession, it is restoration,” a local leader told Yemini.
Since then, Somaliland has operated as a de facto state — maintaining its own currency, security forces and ministries — but without a seat at the United Nations.
“We come to power, we leave it peacefully”
In Hargeisa, Yemini interviewed Mustafe Isse, known as Mustafe Shiine, spokesman for the opposition Kulmiye Party. His appeal was directed squarely at Donald Trump.
“You should have to recognise Somaliland. You are the biggest country in the world,” said Anwar Abdurrahman Warsame, a former chairman of Somaliland civil society, echoing that call.
Mustafe described a political culture rooted in persuasion rather than coercion. “We come to power, we leave it peacefully,” he said. “Nobody helped us. We built this from the ground up.”
Somaliland’s leaders argue that their model contrasts sharply with instability elsewhere in the Horn of Africa. They point to repeated elections and negotiated settlements of disputes. “Somaliland finishes their issues by dialogue, not by bullet,” Warsame said.
Security, residents say, rests partly on what they describe as community policing. “Every village has its own community policing,” Warsame explained. “If they see something… they are immediately reporting to the nearest police station.”
“There’s no terrorism here. There’s no Islamic extremism,” one resident said. “It’s been like this for 34 years.”
Health care built “from scratch”
Beyond politics and security, Somaliland’s officials argue that daily life tells its own story.
“Somaliland’s health system has been built from scratch since 1991,” said Dr. Essa Abdi Jama, chief executive of Better Health Somaliland. “Compared to other parts of Africa, we are trying our best, but we need support in human resources, medical services, and improving quality of care.”
He said non-communicable diseases such as diabetes and hypertension are now leading health challenges, alongside a rising burden of cancer. “We see people at late stages of cancer,” he said. “Capacity for oncology, cardiac surgery, and advanced treatments is urgently needed.”
Still, he contends that basic sanitation, vaccination programs and community investment have enabled progress despite limited resources. “If we had global recognition, this could become a five-star health system,” he said.
An economy outside the global system
The lack of recognition carries economic consequences. Somaliland cannot access loans from institutions such as the IMF or World Bank.
“We cannot get loans from the IMF or World Bank, yet we have maintained peace and built an economic system that survives better than many countries connected to the global system,” said Hamse Khaire, deputy governor of the Bank of Somaliland.
“Our government is elected; it is a people’s project,” he added. “We rely on our own resources, and that makes the difference.”
Much of the economy depends on livestock exports to Gulf countries and remittances from the diaspora. Officials argue that the absence of large-scale foreign aid has fostered accountability and grassroots ownership — a political culture they say would be reinforced, not weakened, by recognition.
The 850-kilometer argument: Berbera, Gulf of Aden
In Berbera, the case for recognition shifts from moral to strategic.
The port city sits along the Gulf of Aden near the Bab el-Mandeb strait — a chokepoint linking the Indian Ocean to the Red Sea and Mediterranean. More than 15 percent of global trade is estimated to transit nearby waters.
“Somaliland has been a stable country… contributing to the regional stability and peace since it has reclaimed its independence,” said Ali Dirie Ahmed, a port authority manager.
While Yemen’s coastline faces conflict and Somalia has struggled with piracy and al-Shabaab insurgency, Ahmed said extremist groups have “no presence” in Somaliland. “We have a coastal guard, we have a military… our system of governance has allowed us to secure this sea.”
Formal recognition, he argued, would enable structured security agreements and deeper integration into maritime security frameworks. “Recognising Somaliland means this route will be more secure.”
Between aspiration and uncertainty
Somalilanders describe their struggle not as a bid for aid, but for acknowledgment.
“In reality, this should be one of the only places in this neighbourhood that should be recognised,” one woman told Yemini. “It has earned it.”
For now, the territory remains in diplomatic limbo: a government that functions, an economy that survives largely outside global finance, and a society that insists it has chosen ballots over bullets.
Whether Washington — or other capitals — will accept that argument remains an open question. On the streets of Hargeisa, however, confidence persists.
“Others are coming,” one resident said of potential recognition. “One by one.”
Avi Yemini is the Australia Bureau Chief for Rebel News. He’s a former Israeli Defence Force marksman turned citizen journalist. Avi’s most known for getting amongst the action and asking the tough questions in a way that brings a smile to your face.
