This article by Georgia L. Gilholy, argues that the UK should shift its focus from Somalia to Somaliland. Somaliland has established a stable government and conducted democratic elections, despite lacking formal international recognition. In contrast, Somalia is described as a failed state plagued by political instability, terrorism, and corruption, relying heavily on foreign aid with little to show for it.

The writer emphasizes Somaliland’s historical ties to the UK, pointing out that many Somalilanders fought alongside British forces in World Wars. The article suggests that the UK has ignored this connection and failed to support Somaliland’s quest for recognition, unlike other African nations that have achieved it despite weaker democratic credentials.

Furthermore, the piece highlights Somaliland’s strategic importance due to its location by the Red Sea and growing influence from global powers like China. The author urges the UK to reconsider its position and recognize Somaliland to strengthen its strategic alliances and counteract the influence of rival powers in the region. Overall, the argument is that Somaliland presents a better partnership opportunity for the UK compared to the challenges posed by Somalia.

The complete piece is as follows:

The UK Should Look Less To Somalia But More To Somaliland

For the UK, ties to Somaliland run deeper than contemporary geopolitics and has proven itself to be, while far from perfect, a freer, fairer, and more stable arrangement than Somalia.

By Georgia L. Gilholy

Georgia L Gilholy is a journalist.

It was scorching hot inside the Hargeysa Cultural Centre.

There was a printed photo of a BBC journalist given pride of place on one of the whitewashed walls, presumably to signal respect.

In a nearby glass cabinet, a pamphlet slamming the corporation’s bias was presented surrounded by old passports and coinage. I’m sure the museum’s proprietor’s young granddaughter running around the room was more baffled at the presence of a handful of sweaty European visitors than this confusing arrangement of artefacts.

Bafflement indeed is the expression that passed over the face of most people when I told them I was about to visit Somaliland. No doubt visions of famine, terrorism, and Black Hawk Down were their reference points. But Somaliland is not what its southern neighbor has become synonymous with, and the territory has shifted immensely since the chaos of the late 20th century.

Somaliland is a self-declared republic in the Horn of Africa that has sought international recognition since its break from Somalia in the midst of a bloody civil war in 1991, in which 90 percent of its now capital city was carpet bombed on Mogadishu’s orders.

Despite its lack of formal recognition, Somaliland has built a functioning government, held democratic elections, and maintained peace, all while sitting next to one of the most fragile states in the world, with minimal international aid or support. While foreigners on cushty press tours must always take what they see with a grain of salt, the reality is that such a tour in Somalia would be much more hazardous if allowed to take place at all-especially with a woman on board.

Naturally, Somaliland continues to have its fair share of disputes and shortcomings. In 2017, the state’s only Catholic church—built under British rule—was shut by the government due to “public pressures,” a mere eight days after it was officially reopened. There are few native Christians and migrant workers from the Philippines and other parts of Africa must worship in private. Areas that border Somalia continue to experience sporadic clashes, with various parties blaming one another for the violence.

But this is worlds apart from Somalia proper, to which we funnel millions in foreign aid, is a failed state. By 2020, the UK was sending £232 million in aid, though this was cut to £100 million by 2022.

We continue to see little return on investment—political instability, terrorism, and corruption reign, with Somalia consistently ranking near the bottom of global freedom indexes, just ahead of North Korea. While much of this aid is intended to help those in need, there are no available estimates on its success rates, due to the expectation of corruption and interference by terror groups and shady officials. The UK is home to thousands of Somali and Somalilander refugees from its civil war and famine, and their descendants.

Somaliland, on the other hand, has proven itself to be, while far from perfect, a freer, fairer, and more stable arrangement. Despite its clan-based system and adherence to strict Islamic values, it has held a form of democratic elections, with another presidential election scheduled for November 13th. It is not a Western-style democracy, but it is leagues ahead of Somalia, where a semblance of law and order is far out of reach, nevermind meaningful elections.

For the UK, ties to Somaliland run deeper than contemporary geopolitics.

As I walked through Hargeisa’s Commonwealth graves, it struck me that many in the UK might not realize how many Somalilanders fought alongside British forces during the World Wars.

There’s an emotional and historic connection here—one that the UK has largely ignored. Somaliland was once a British protectorate, yet we’ve turned our backs on its quest for recognition, while its fellow African states such as South Sudan and Eritrea have achieved international status despite having weaker democratic credentials.

The UK is, of course, not obliged to advocate for, or intervene on behalf of, any place it has ever ruled. To do so would be to impede Britain’s own interests—which the Foreign Office seems bent on doing anyhow—and succumb to a range of crackpot rules.

Still, the UK is more than happy to essentially surrender the Chagos Islands as we did Hong Kong, and entertain the fantastical reparations theories put out by the Commonwealth—fast becoming an outlet not for allegiance but anti-British grievance-mongering.

We should take all the friends we can, with some exceptions.

Beyond this shared history, which naturally included clashes between British authorities and local ones, Somaliland offers strategic advantages that the UK cannot afford to ignore. As global powers like China and Iran seek influence in the Horn of Africa, Somaliland’s strategic location on the Red Sea makes it a crucial ally. Beijing, which is the biggest foreign investor in Ethiopia, has already set its sights on operating Berbera Port, a vital maritime hub, and we must act before they establish a foothold.

The US has already begun taking positive steps by involving Somaliland in the National Defense Authorization Act. There is now even talk of relocating the Camp Lemonnier base in Djibouti to Berbera. These moves signal a growing recognition of Somaliland’s importance in the global alliance against authoritarian powers. If we don’t move swiftly, we risk ceding influence to China or other malign actors.

The UK’s current position, supporting talks between Somalia and Somaliland, has proven fruitless.

After 11 rounds of negotiations, mostly stymied by the inability of its neighboring basket case to engage meaningfully, it’s time to rethink our strategy. Somaliland could be a credible ally, and our continued refusal to recognize its independence is alienating a partner that we could rely on in the volatile region.

The case for recognizing Somaliland is clear.

It is a beacon of stability among chaos, an ally in the fight against China and Russia, and it shares a historical bond with Britain which ought to be harnessed to our strategic advantage, not tossed aside. By continuing to ignore its quest for independence, we risk not only losing a potential ally and trade partner but also allowing hostile powers to extend their grip over a strategically crucial region.