Somalia’s New Autonomous Regions Hit Lethal Snags on Road to Federalism

The barely functioning Federal Somali Government (F.S.G.) is pushing forward this fall to replace its original system of small administrative regions with large autonomous “regional states,” officially enshrining a fragmentation that has been going on over a quarter-century of civil war.  But the plan is running into problems, notably with outbreaks of factionalism and fighting in the central Galmudug and Hiiraan regions.  Some say it is long past time to abandon the whole idea of Somali unity.

It’s only gotten more complicated since.

The most well known of these states, Puntland State of Somalia, has been de facto self-governing since 1991, when Somalia fragmented in civil war following the end of its sponsor state, the Soviet Union.  Today, Puntland is in most ways independent, though the government is nominally “unionist.”  Another region, the former British Somaliland, is the de facto independent Republic of Somaliland, which, unlike Puntland, does not pretend to be part of the Federal Republic of Somalia, though Somalia insists it is.  Somaliland is diplomatically unrecognized, but treated by the United Nations and many states as independent in every respect other than the exchange of ambassadors—mostly because of its oil wealth, exploited by firms from the United Kingdom, Canada, the United Arab Emirates, and elsewhere.

Puntlanders with their flag

The federal government gave its blessing last July to an officially autonomous “Central Regions State,” just south of Puntland.  (That’s the occasion for the flag display at the top of this article.)  That entity has now reverted to calling itself Galmudug Regional State (Galmudug being a portmanteau of the names of the smaller Mudug and Galduduud administrative regions), the name used when it first declared itself self-governing in 2004 amidst the chaos of the Somali civil war.  Galmudug’s formal establishment last year created tensions not only with Puntland—the two states’ shared border is in dispute—but with neighboring entities on its western and southern side which have long aspired, with less success, to formal autonomous status, notably Ximan and Xeeb (also spelled Himan and Heeb) State and Hiiraan State.  Puntland, jealous of threats to its preeminence as a stable, economically viable, and (not incidentally) territorially expansive pseudo-state, has (as discussed before in this blog) repeatedly threatened to withdraw from the Somali federation whenever another autonomous state begins establishing itself.

Mudug + Galgaduud = Galmudug

Internally, Galmudug is riven by factionalism within Ahlu Sunna, a moderate Islamist militia whose conservative faction controls some areas of Galmudug, including the town of Dhusamareb.  Twenty people were killed in a two-day battle for Abudwaak this month between the Interim Galmudug Administration (I.G.A.) and the traditionalist Ahlu Sunna Wajameeca faction, with the I.G.A. securing control of the town.

Warring Ahlu Sunna factions make a stable Galmudug difficult to achieve.

Just last week the newly elected president of Galmudug, Abdikarim Guled, said that Galmudug was in talks with Puntland to end their hostilities.  The Puntland–Galmudug conflict swirls mostly around rival claims on the Northern Mudug administrative district (in the terms of the old, vestigial map of Somalian regions and sub-regional districts), where Galmudug’s newly relocated capital, Adado, sits.  Local clans do most of the fighting in these disputes.  Formerly, Galmudug used the southern part of the city of Galkayo as its capital; Galkayo straddles, Berlin-like, the de facto border between Galmudug and Puntland.  Adado is farther south but is still claimed by Galmudug.  Awkwardly, it is also the capital of the aforementioned Ximan and Xeeb State, an intermittently self-governing landlocked pocket of desert which theoretically aspires to be a Mogadishu-recognized autonomous regional state.

To add to the mess, al-Shabaab (literally “the Youth”), a radical Islamist terror group which affiliates itself with al-Qaeda, is in a constant tug-of-war with these entities, the central government, and with the African Union (A.U.) Mission in Somalia (Amisom), a peacekeeping group dominated by Ethiopia and Kenya, for control of remote towns.  Just last week, federal troops, joined by some of the 2,000 Amisom troops there from Djibouti (a country which sponsors insurgent separatists in western Somaliland, incidentally), drove al-Shabaab out of two Hiiraan villages.  Hiiraan and Middle Shabelle (also called Hiiraan and Jawhar) Regional State was supposed to begin its implementation process on September 1st and complete it in December.  So there is a big push to stabilize that region so it can keep to its timetable.  There is also tension within Amisom, since Djibouti—which sponsors insurgent separatists in western Somaliland, incidentally—suspects Ethiopia of having an anti-Djiboutian agenda in the peacekeeping operations.  Djibouti is ruled by its Issa (Somali) minority, which is in perpetual conflict with its Afar majority, which is also a powerful minority in neighboring Ethiopia and Eritrea.

Somalian subdivisions—old style ...

The current parliamentary system is an arcane one involving unelected traditional clan elders as a sort of estate or upper chamber within the representative system.  But one of the plans being considered divides Somalia into seven large legislative districts: Puntland, the Interim Jubba Administration in the far south (also called, at various times, Jubaland, Jubbaland, Azania, or even Greenland), the Interim South West Administration (also called sometimes Asal, just to the north of Jubaland) (see article from this blog), Galmudug, Benadir, Somaliland, and the Hiiraan–Shabeelle entity (see above).  Jubaland, in particular, is supported by the A.U. and by the Kenyan military command which operates through the A.U. in southern Somalia; Kenya sees it as a useful buffer state between the Kenyan homeland and the al-Shabaab-ruled areas bent on exporting terrorism across the border into Kenya.  (See an article from this blog on Jubaland.)

... and old old style.

Somaliland, in the far northwest, will never accede to being part of the failed state of Somalia; it has done well on its own, and federal forces would never try to subdue Somaliland’s capable military.  But the Puntland, Galmudug, Hiiraan–Shabelle, South-West, Benadir, and Jubaland regional states are gradually trying to normalize themselves, in almost impossible circumstances.  Whether they can ever succeed is an open question.  In my opinion (as I have written as long ago as 2012), the problem is that the international community unanimously backs the failed idea of a central government based in Mogadishu.  The world’s leading nations should grant diplomatic recognition to Somaliland and showcase the country, imperfect though it is, as the island of stability it is in its horrifically dangerous neighborhood (near, among other places, South Sudan and Yemen).  This might encourage Puntland to declare independence as well (it is a quite viable state), or might convince Mogadishu to craft with local leaders a very loose confederation of four or five large regions.  The alternative is today’s dysfunction, with vast areas under no clear governance and becoming a breeding ground for al-Shabaab.  It would be good to get this in place before al-Shabaab, like Boko Haram in Nigeria, switches its allegiance to Islamic State.

The flag of Hiiraan State

[You can read more about Puntland, Galmudug, and many other separatist and new-nation movements, both famous and obscure, in my new book, a sort of encyclopedic atlas just published by Litwin Books under the title Let’s Split! A Complete Guide to Separatist Movements and Aspirant Nations, from Abkhazia to Zanzibar.  The book, which contains 46 maps and 554 flags (or, more accurately, 554 flag images), is available for order now on Amazon.  Meanwhile, please “like” the book (even if you haven’t read it yet) on Facebook and see this interview for more information on the book.]

Polisario Front a Bit More Isolated after Paraguay “Unfriends” Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic

The Republic of Paraguay’s Ministry for Foreign Affairs announced on January 3rd that the country is withdrawing its diplomatic recognition of the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic (S.A.D.R.), also known as Western Sahara, a former Spanish colony now mostly living under the brutal occupation of the Kingdom of Morocco.  It was a further blow to the S.A.D.R.’s governing body, the Polisario Front, the rebel militia which controls the Sahrawi quasi-state behind the vast, Moroccan-constructed sand walls that bisect the territory.  Late last year, Panama and Haiti withdrew their recognition as well (as reported at the time in this blog), leaving the number of countries exchanging ambassadors with the S.A.D.R. at 48, now dipping just under a quarter of United Nations member-states.

Spain withdrew from the Spanish Sahara in 1976 through a negotiated deal that gave the northern two-thirds of the colony to Morocco and the rest to Mauritania.  But Morocco swept in and occupied the entire territory, leaving the indigenous Sahrawi people to organize militarily to defend their right to govern themselves; the S.A.D.R. declared independence that year.  Since then, the question of whether to recognize the S.A.D.R. has mostly been a diplomatic tussle between those countries that side with Morocco and those, led by Algeria and Libya, who regard Morocco as too Western-leaning and side with the (“black,” non-Arab) Sahrawi people.  Now that Libya’s Moammar al-Qaddafi has been toppled and replaced by a shaky, but distinctly Western-leaning regime, Algeria remains the biggest proponent of S.A.D.R. recognition.  Algeria also hosts the vast Sahrawi refugee camp at Tindouf.  Most of Africa, much of Latin America, and parts of Asia recognize the S.A.D.R., but no states in Europe or in the Anglophone world outside Africa do.  The African Union (A.U.) and Organization of African Unity (O.A.U.) have welcomed the S.A.D.R. as a member, but the Arab League sides with Morocco.  Indeed, the dispute has become a proxy battle between the Arab and sub-Saharan African worlds and on the concept of colonialism within Africa.  In past years, no fewer than 39 states have made the same move that Paraguay has just done, withdrawing recognition—among them India, Vietnam, Colombia, Sudan, and Kenya.

Countries that recognize the S.A.D.R. (in red) are shown in green;
those that used to, including as of this month Paraguay, are in dark grey.

Another factor in the decline of the S.A.D.R.’s clout has been the Arab Spring revolutions that began in 2011.  Not only did Morocco’s monarchy, unlike Qaddafi’s régime, deftly ride through the unrest unscathed, but the gradually entrenchment of a terrorist network in North Africa’s central Sahel region seems, in the eyes of Western analysts, to implicate the Polisario Front in a web of cooperation that also includes the Islamist militia Ansar al-Dine which occupied northern Mali for much of last year, their partners al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (A.Q.I.M.) and Algeria’s Movement for Unity and Jihad in West Africa (MUJAO), the Ansar al-Sharia militia vying for control of the largely lawless interior of Libya, and northern Nigeria’s terrorist army Boko Haram.  Such ties do exist, but Sahrawi people would not be resorting to such alliances and assistance if the international community recognized their legitimate aspirations.

That leaves the Sahrawi people in an even weaker position in the ongoing, glacially-paced U.N. negotiations over Western Sahara’s status.  Perhaps if Western nations stepped up to the plate, set aside their cosy relationship with Morocco’s corrupt king, and recognized the S.A.D.R., then they could save the brutalized Sahrawi people, and help save Africa too.  But don’t count on it.

[For those who are wondering, yes, this blog is tied in with a forthcoming book, a sort of encyclopedic atlas to be published by Auslander and Fox under the title Let’s Split! A Complete Guide to Separatist Movements, Independence Struggles, Breakaway Republics, Rebel Provinces, Pseudostates, Puppet States, Tribal Fiefdoms, Micronations, and Do-It-Yourself Countries, from Chiapas to Chechnya and Tibet to Texas.  Look for it some time in 2014.  I will be keeping readers posted of further publication news.]

Abyei Votes Overwhelmingly to Leave Sudan, Join South Sudan, but Khartoum Says Forget It

A referendum rally in Abyei, highlighting the Dinka people’s elaborate bovine clan emblems

This has been a season for referenda.  Readers maybe disappointed to learn that the tiny resort community of Lamb Island, near Brisbane, Queensland, recently voted down a proposal (reported on last month in this blog) to secede from Australia as the Republic of Nguduroodistan.  The final tally was 49 to 34, with most of the islet’s 426 residents not bothering to vote.  Meanwhile, disgruntled rural Republicans in the northeastern corner of the increasingly urban and Democratic state of Colorado are gearing up for ballot measures on November 5th on whether to create a State of North Colorado (or New Colorado).  (Read earlier reports from this blog on the North Colorado movement here, here, and here.) We will be bringing you analysis of that situation after the votes are in.

Disputed areas are in brown, including Abyei

Most dramatically, however, residents in the disputed Abyei District voted overwhelmingly on October 31st to leave the Republic of Sudan and join the fledgling Republic of South Sudan.  With 65,000 registered voters, the results were, according to Deng Alor, chairman of the Abyei Referendum High Committee, “99.9%” in favor of switching sides.  Never mind that it was a non-binding referendum; neither the (north) Sudanese nor the South Sudanese government approved it.  And never mind that red flag of a number, 99.9%.  (Why is it always 99.9%?  Just once, I’d like to see an election in some half-democratized corner of the world where the winning votes are a modest 99.85%—you know, just for verisimilitude’s sake.)  Most crucially, the question is 99.9% (or whatever it was) of whom?

Deng Alor

Abyei became one of the flashpoints of conflict when South Sudan prepared to secede from Sudan, under international auspices, in 2011.  The south had been waging war to secede from the north since the 1950s, when the Republic of Sudan was granted independence by the United Kingdom.  Northerners are mostly Arab and Muslim, and with an increasingly harsh, Islamist regime; southerners meanwhile, are mostly not Arabs, tend to follow local religions or Christianity, and are in sub-Saharan African, or “black,” in their ethnic appearance.  South Sudan was ushered along toward a binding referendum under the auspices of the United Nations and under the guidance of the George W. Bush and later Barack Obama administrations in the United States.  Geopolitically, this was a way for the West to contain the Sudanese regime in Khartoum (the northern capital) by chopping back its territory, in particular emasculating it of its oil-rich south.  The idea was that landlocked South Sudan would have the oil wealth but would be dependent on Sudanese pipelines and harbors to bring it to market, forcing at least a kind of uneasy cooperation.

South Sudanese flying their new flag on independence day, 2011

But the small, rectangular-shaped, oil-rich region district of Abyei was the scene of ethnic cleansing by northern forces in the months leading up to the planned independence referendum.  The state in which Abyei sits, South Kordofan, and another state, Blue Nile, were two regions which were mostly Southern in their cultural affinities and political sympathies but which were on the northern side of the proposed line.  These include the much-oppressed (non-Arab) Nubian ethnic group, in the mountains of Blue Nile.  A proviso in the negotiation of the referendum was that those two states would eventually vote separately on which of the two Sudans they preferred to be part of; naturally, those referenda never came.

There has been fighting all along the disputed border, before and after independence—not so much in the past few months—but Abyei has always been a focus of the conflict, partly because Khartoum early on attempted to remove “Southerners” from the district as a kind of pilot project, to see how much ethnic cleansing they could get away with in their attempt to keep South Kordofan and Blue Nile in the north.  Some even suggested making the little scrap of land an independent United Republic of Abyei, belonging to neither Sudan.  (This would have been one of many examples in history of a border people becoming elevated to the level of a state or a nationality by virtue of being in territorial dispute.  Kosovo, Transylvania’s Magyars, Transnistria, Nagorno-Karabakh, the Madheshi Hindus of Nepal, and the Pattani Muslims of southern Thailand are only some among many examples.)


The two ethnic groupings that are a presence in Abyei are (1) communities belonging to the Ngok, one of many subdivisions of the Dinka nationality—a traditionally pastoralist society, transhumant but increasingly settled, of the kind that make up a large part of the population of South Sudan—and the Misseriya Arabs, cattle herders who are more nomadic and actually only reside in Abyei for part of their annual seasonal round.  The million or so Misseriya make up a large part of the population of South Kordofan, southern Darfur, and central Chad.  In fact, last week’s referendum was scheduled to occur just before large numbers of Misseriya return to their Abyei grazing lands and thus swell the local population to much greater than the number on the referendum’s voting rolls.  Ironically, South Africa’s often controversial former president, Thabo Mbeki, who was a member of an African Union panel weighing in on the larger conflict, suggested last year that there be a referendum on Abyei in which only Dinka could vote—ironically, given the color-blind spirit of inclusiveness that ushered his own homeland to democracy two decades ago with minimal bloodshed and disunity.  Mbeki’s suggestion was shouted down, but what he proposed was essentially what the Dinka have just carried out.

It is true that Khartoum is cruelly stonewalling the opportunity for the people of South Kordofan and Blue Nile to vote to join the South, as they would most probably do, but it is also true that the local Dinka have engineered a shamefully rigged electoral process.  One can only conceive that the Dinka were seeking a provocation that would reignite the war.

But cooler heads are prevailing in Khartoum and Juba, the northern and southern capitals.  The South Sudanese government has distanced itself from the vote and has banned advertisements connected with it from the media.  Sudan, for its part, is taking a firm stand.  Nafie Ali Nafie, a high-ranking presidential advisor, said that the results were illegitimate and that if the vote were held after the seasonal return of the Misseriya, the results would have been the opposite.

South Sudan’s president, Salva Kiir, with Hillary Rodham Clinton

As in many similar cases around the world, however (think: Bosnia, Palestine, Nagorno-Karabakh, Tibet), violence and ethnic cleansing and aggressive settlement have changed the facts on the ground, so that it becomes contentious and difficult to decide who should vote on the status of a territory—the people living there now (often as the result of importation for this purpose), or something more closely approximating the pre-conflict population dynamics.

The two Sudans are far from deciding the fate of Abyei and of the rest of the disputed areas.  For the time being, though, both national leaderships seem determined not to let Abyei drag them both into war once again.

[Also, for those who are wondering, yes, this blog is tied in with a forthcoming book, a sort of encyclopedic atlas to be published by Auslander and Fox under the title Let’s Split! A Complete Guide to Separatist Movements, Independence Struggles, Breakaway Republics, Rebel Provinces, Pseudostates, Puppet States, Tribal Fiefdoms, Micronations, and Do-It-Yourself Countries, from Chiapas to Chechnya and Tibet to Texas.  Look for it some time in 2014.  I will be keeping readers posted of further publication news.]

El Salvador Grants Recognition to Kosovo as Haiti Cuts Ties with Sahrawi Republic

It’s been a week of one step forward and one step back for partially recognized states in the Old World trying to solidify diplomatic support in the Americas.  The Republic of El Salvador became the 105th sovereign state to recognize the independence of the Republic of Kosovo, but the Republic of Haiti surprised observers by revoking its diplomatic recognition of the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic (S.A.D.R.) (a.k.a. Western Sahara), the former Spanish Sahara mostly occupied by Morocco.

The October 4th announcement on Kosovo came via the Twitter feed of Enver Hoxhaj, the country’s foreign minister, who learned of El Salvador’s decision through the Kosovar embassy in New York.  Kosovo had most recently received recognition from Libya, Grenada, and Thailand.  The former Serbian province, still claimed by the Republic of Serbia, has been steadily gaining diplomatic partners following the signal moment in December 2012 when the Commonwealth of Dominica, a former British colony in the Caribbean, became the 97th United Nations member-state to grant recognition, which pushed Kosovo over the 50% mark (as reported at the time in this blog).

Countries that recognize Kosovo are shown in green.

But Kosovo’s membership in the U.N. General Assembly is still blocked by two of the five veto-wielding permanent members of the U.N. Security Council—the Russian Federation and the People’s Republic of China, both for reasons of paranoia about their own internal fissions and Russia for the added reason of an emotional pan-Slavic, and thus pro-Serbian, ideological allegiance.  Currently, Western allies of Kosovo are attempting at least to convince some of the holdouts among Kosovo’s immediate neighbors, in particular Romania and Greece.

In the case of Greece, Kosovo’s secession still brings up ugly memories of the predominantly-Slavic Republic of Macedonia’s emergence from the wreckage of Yugoslavia in 1993.  Athens still points out that Macedonia is historically a culturally-Greek region lying mostly within Greece (Alexander the Great was Macedonian, for example).  Greeks also seem unable to shake memories of the Second World War, following which a new Macedonia within Yugoslavia—with the current republic’s borders—was founded by partisans of a fascist insurgent army which had connived in Nazi-allied Bulgaria’s invasion of Greece and had tried to seat an Aromanian nationalist as voivode (prince) of an independent Slavic state in the Macedonia region that would be a refuge for Greece’s Aromanian minority as well.  (Aromanians speak a language related to Romanian.)  Romania itself, a staunch European Union and NATO member, will probably come around.  (See more detail on Kosovo’s status in my blog article from last year on the subject.)

The dotted line shows the approximate extent of the traditional Greek region of Macedonia.

Other European holdouts include Spain, which has its own internal Basque and Catalan separatist movements, and Slovakia.

Countries that recognize the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic are in green.  Dark grey are those, including Haiti, that have withdrawn recognition over the years.  The S.A.D.R. itself is in red.

A bit less understandable than Kosovo’s successes and setbacks is the recent move by Haiti, announced this week, to withdraw its 2006 recognition of the Sahrawi republic.  The S.A.D.R. claims all of Western Sahara but the “black,” sub-Saharan Sahrawi people are at the mercy of the brutal repression of (Arab) Moroccan occupation forces.  The S.A.D.R., which administers only a sliver of land behind a series of sand berms erected by Morocco, is recognized by 49 countries, only just over a quarter of U.N. member states, including most of Africa and a considerable number of Latin American countries as well—also by the African Union (A.U.).  Haiti follows a few other Caribbean nations in withdrawing membership—mostly as a result of buckling to diplomatic pressure from Morocco, which is something of a diplomatic pariah nation within Africa but which for countries farther afield is a more promising economic partner.

In red is the territory controlled by the partially recognized Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic.

But in Haiti’s case it is disappointing because of the country’s symbolic role for African anti-colonialists.  In 1804, after a successful slave revolt, Haiti became, in terms of the modern system of nation-states, the second independent modern state in the Americas (after the United States) and the first Black republic anywhere.  In the late 1960s, Haiti was also the only non-African state among the five that recognized the Republic of Biafra before that nation was crushed by a brutal siege by Nigeria.

Haiti symbolizes freedom from colonialism for many sub-Saharan Africans—
but this week not so much.

Pan-African unity is supposed to be a big deal for Haiti.  Perhaps it will before long come to its senses and put ideals before economics and convenience.

[Also, for those who are wondering, yes, this blog is tied in with a forthcoming book, a sort of encyclopedic atlas to be published by Auslander and Fox under the title Let’s Split! A Complete Guide to Separatist Movements, Independence Struggles, Breakaway Republics, Rebel Provinces, Pseudostates, Puppet States, Tribal Fiefdoms, Micronations, and Do-It-Yourself Countries, from Chiapas to Chechnya and Tibet to Texas.  Look for it some time in 2014.  I will be keeping readers posted of further publication news.]

Jubaland and Puntland Deals May Help Reassemble Fragmented Somalia

 Farah Sheikh Abdukadir and Ahmed Madobe shake on it, and bring Jubaland back into “Somalia”

On August 28th, the Jubaland State of Somalia reached an agreement to cooperate with the Federal Republic of Somalia.  It was signed in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, by the Somalian minister of state, Farah Sheikh Abdulkadir, and Sheikh Ahmed Mohamed Islam (better known as Ahmed Madobe), who only the most powerful and resilient of several warring self-proclaimed presidents of Jubaland, and not even the only one who claims to have been “elected.”  The deal allows Madobe to govern Jubaland during a two-year transition under a so-called Interim Jubba Administration (I.J.A.).  In exchange, the federal government will run the airport and harbor of Jubaland’s capital, Kismayo, and will absorb “all security elements” of what passes for government in Jubaland at the moment—i.e., Madobe’s powerful militia, the Ras Kamboni Brigades.  Though Jubaland is and will be to a great extent self-governing, this agreement makes nominally a part of a nominally federal “Somalia”—though true Somalian administration extends very little beyond the federal capital, Mogadishu.  The deal also represents a victory of sorts for Somalia’s prime minister, Abdi Farah Shirdon, who had been pushing Somalia’s skeptical president, Hassan Sheikh Mohamoud, to welcome the formation of Jubaland.

Jubaland consists, according to the new agreement, of the nominal Somalian gobols (regions, or provinces) of Gedo, Middle Jubba, and Lower Jubba.  Madobe’s Ras Kamboni fighters helped troops from Kenya and Ethiopia, under an African Union (A.U.) mandate, liberate the Jubaland area last year from an al-Qaeda-affiliated Islamist militia called al-Shabaab, which has since been dispersed into the hinterlands.  Madobe then tried to set up a Puntland-style (see below) federal autonomous region in the south called Jubaland (also spelled Jubbaland, and sometimes also known as Azania or Greenland) but met with initial resistance from Mogadishu.  (Jubaland was listed in this blog at the beginning of this year as one of “10 Separatist Movements to Watch in 2013.”)

A Somali political cartoon addresses the controversy over recognition of Jubaland.
(This is only one of several proposed Jubaland flags in circulation.)

Two days after the Jubaland deal, President Mohamoud said the federal administration was open to talks that would repair relations with the Puntland State of Somali, a de facto independent parliamentary republic at the tip of the Horn of Africa which announced last month it was formally severing all ties with the Mogadishu government (as reported at the time in this blog).

These two developments indicate the possibility of the northern and southern ends of “Somalia” being brought into the nominal federal fold—or perhaps even more than nominally.  (Puntland is considered the northern end of Somalia only because Mogadishu has, despite official protests, in reality long resigned itself to the de facto secession of the internationally-unrecognized Republic of Somaliland, to Puntland’s west.)  The Jubaland agreement, in particular, is being praised by the United Nations (U.N.), by the mostly pro-Mogadishu international community generally, and by the government of Puntland.  But there may be associated tensions emerging in the nation’s middle section . . .

Jubaland delegates at an annual Somalia conference in London.  (This is another proposed Jubaland flag.)

In response to the Jubaland accord, hundreds of residents of Baidoa, Somalia’s third-largest city, took to the streets on August 31st to protest Jubaland’s reabsorption into Somalia.  Baidoa is culturally and geographically part of the larger Jubaland region and in fact used to be the capital of Upper Jubba province before internal borders were reorganized.  It is now the capital of Baay (also spelled Bay) province (see map above).

Protesters ralied in Baidoa, Baay province, on August 31st.

Like most parts of Somalia, Baay province is only nominally under Somalian administration, at best.  Local control is in the hands of clan elders.  An elder’s-council spokesman, Malaq Ali Mumin, who also represents elders from the province of Bakool, told media during the protest, “We have withdrawn our support from the Somali federal government in Mogadishu.  We call on parliamentarians and other federal government officials hailing from this region to come back.”  Elders said that federal government officials were now banned from Baay.  Mumin, of the elder’s council, told reporters that his organization was declaring war in order to “liberate the regions of ‘Lower Jubba, Middle Jubba, and Gedo.’”

Somali troops celebrating the taking of Kismayo from al-Shabaab in 2012

Jubaland and Puntland may be on the brink of being tamed and brought in from the cold.  But do we now have to contend with a Republic of Baay?

[Also, for those who are wondering, yes, this blog is tied in with a forthcoming book, a sort of encyclopedic atlas to be published by Auslander and Fox under the title Let’s Split! A Complete Guide to Separatist Movements, Independence Struggles, Breakaway Republics, Rebel Provinces, Pseudostates, Puppet States, Tribal Fiefdoms, Micronations, and Do-It-Yourself Countries, from Chiapas to Chechnya and Tibet to Texas.  Look for it some time in 2013.  I will be keeping readers posted of further publication news.]