By Mohamed Dhugad
Somalia once again stands at a decisive juncture—one that offers the promise of progress, unity, and long-awaited democratic reform. President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud’s recent call for an all-inclusive national conference in Mogadishu was intended to open a new chapter in Somalia’s political journey. At its core lies a bold vision: the realization of one person, one vote—a system that would finally return the power of choice to the Somali people after decades of political fragmentation and clan-based power-sharing.
Initially, many opposition leaders welcomed the president’s initiative—a hopeful sign that Somalia might enter a period of meaningful dialogue. Yet that hope was short-lived. Within days, some of these very leaders withdrew, rejecting the president’s offer and refusing to attend the open forum meant to address the very concerns they have long voiced.
A Question of Political Responsibility
This abrupt shift raises a serious question: if not now, when? And if not through dialogue, then how?
For decades, Somalia has operated under the 4.5 clan-based formula, where elders and elite groups selected parliamentarians behind closed doors. While this system helped maintain a fragile peace, it has also stunted our democracy. The current move toward universal suffrage, even if imperfect, reflects the growing desire of ordinary Somalis to reclaim their right to choose their leaders.
Yes, the president’s actions—such as passing the revised provisional constitution and appointing the national electoral commission—have raised concerns. Some argue these steps were taken without sufficient consultation with federal states or other key stakeholders. These concerns are valid and warrant open debate. But what better platform to raise them than in front of the nation, with the eyes and ears of the public fully engaged?
Defining the Opposition’s Mandate
As the Mogadishu conference unfolds, another troubling trend has emerged: some opposition leaders who refused to attend are now discrediting their colleagues who did. They claim those engaging with the president are not Somalia’s legitimate political stakeholders. This raises urgent questions:- Who decides who is a stakeholder in Somalia’s state-building process? Who gave certain individuals the exclusive right to represent the opposition?
This is particularly problematic because many of the current conference participants previously stood alongside those now criticizing them—including at the Hotel Jazeera meeting, which brought together former presidents, ex-prime ministers, and recent presidential candidates.
If these individuals were recognized as valid stakeholders during the last meeting at Jazeera Hotel, then why should some of them have their legitimacy revoked now by those boycotting the president’s conference—simply because they chose dialogue over disengagement?
This selective disqualification undermines not only the unity of the opposition but also the very notion of political pluralism. True leadership welcomes diverse strategies and debate within movements; it does not weaponize legitimacy as a political tool.
At the heart of the matter is a crucial question: Who is better positioned to challenge the president’s intentions—those in the room holding him to account, or those watching from the sidelines?
If some believe the president is hiding a controlled electoral plan behind the veil of public voting, the best way to confront that is through direct engagement, scrutiny, and public exposure at the negotiation table—not by boycotting the very forum where decisions are made.
Dialogue Is Not Capitulation
Some in the opposition seem to conflate dialogue with surrender. But engaging in dialogue does not mean endorsing the government’s decisions—it means claiming your space at the table and using your voice to influence outcomes. By walking away from the discussion, a few opposition leaders have surrendered their influence, not strengthened it.
Their absence is even more striking when we see other opposition figures—brave and politically mature individuals—sitting in the Mogadishu conference halls, directly confronting the president and articulating their vision for Somalia’s future. These are the people who understand that genuine opposition is about offering alternatives, not boycotting the conversation.
As Nelson Mandela once said, “If you want to make peace with your enemy, you have to work with your enemy. Then he becomes your partner.” Somalia does not need more enemies—it needs partners in nation-building.
The Public Is Paying Attention
Let us not underestimate how politically aware the Somali people have become. After decades of war, displacement, and exclusion, they are now yearning for a voice in their future. To them, the promise of casting a vote is not merely a political exercise—it is a symbol of dignity, belonging, and hope.
By refusing to engage, some opposition leaders are effectively denying the public a chance to witness political accountability in action. Somalia needs a transparent process where leaders can be challenged openly—not just through press conferences and social media posts.
As the Somali proverb says: “Nin aan talin jirin, tuug baa u talin jirtay.”
(“A man who never made decisions was always ruled by a thief.”) Somalis want to reclaim their right to decide—to elect, to reject, and to demand better.
Leaders who walk away from this process risk being left behind by the very people they claim to represent. Their refusal also sends a damaging signal: that they still prefer foreign-driven processes at Halane over Somali-led dialogue held openly in Mogadishu—face-to-face with the president and the people, free of outside pressure or mediation.
This attitude signals a continued reliance on external intervention and a lack of trust in the Somali people’s ability to resolve their own issues. Instead of seizing this moment to sit at the table and help shape the future, they are delaying genuine Somali-owned solutions—clinging to an outdated system in which foreign missions, UN mandates, and Chapter Seven-style trusteeship have spoon-fed the political class and stifled Somali ingenuity.
Conclusion
Democracy is not built in a day, and no one expects Somalia’s journey to be easy. But to walk away from the very table that offers a chance for reform—especially when others in your own camp are choosing to stay and fight for the people’s rights—is not political strategy. It is political surrender.
Somalia’s future depends on leaders who show up, speak up, and stand up for progress. The question is: who will be remembered as part of that future?
The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Somali Stream.