Somaliland The nation nobody knows
Egal enjoying non-recognition EPA
A COMMEMORATIVE plaque marks Somaliland's first set of
traffic-lights, planted in its sandy capital Hargeisa six months ago.
When you are nation-building on a shoestring, a little means a lot.
As it happens, Somaliland, a decade after breaking away from Somalia,
has achieved quite a lot. For a start, it has peace. Through its upper
house of clan elders, it has a broadly representative government. In
Muhammad Haji Ibrahim Egal, it has a wily and popular president, whose
promise of democratic elections is generally believed. Somalia, despite
its multi-sponsored transitional government, has none of these things.
But Somaliland is not recognised as independent by anybody (nor, for
that matter, is Puntland, another breakaway state with less clear
ambitions). This disadvantage leaves Somaliland's 2m people—about half
as many as Somalia has—dangerously reliant on the goodwill of
neighbours, and of aid donors who slip it money unofficially without the
usual host-donor government contacts.
The current ban on livestock exports from the Horn of Africa to the
Gulf states underlines this dependence. The six-month ban was imposed
at the end of last year for fear of Rift Valley fever, which has been
found nearby but not in Somaliland or Somalia. Unfortunately, Somaliland
is in no position to argue. Saudi Arabia, the biggest importer, is firm
friends with the transitional government in Somalia, which maintains
that Somaliland remains within its orbit. Mr Egal's farm minister admits
that he would not even know which Saudi official to petition.
Somalia is not catastrophically affected by the ban. But Somaliland's
government has lost duties worth $15m from its $25m budget. Overseas
remittances, estimated at $500m a year, are now the country's only major
income. Mr Egal claims success in diversifying the economy. But the
piecemeal efforts to revive ancient trades in frankincense, henna and
hides do not begin to make up for livestock. And though there are rich
seams of coal, and probably oil, under Somaliland's desert, without the
investment that only recognition could bring, there is no way of
bringing the stuff to the surface.
Some people put their faith in a recent survey that suggests the
country is bursting at the seams with precious stones. The discovery of a
reef of high-quality emeralds several miles long bears this optimism
out. At the very least, small-scale and low-tech gemstone-mining could
be a fall-back for the country's beleaguered herders.
If the government were to act true to form, it would establish the
gem industry around the clans, thereby avoiding concession disputes. In
that way, every clan member should, in theory, get a cut. But the
mining minister was recently fired for fixing prices for his own
business interests. His rather slow-witted replacement maintains the
fiction that the clans respect the government's ownership of mineral
resources.
Somaliland's trump card is its port at Berbera. Since falling out
with Eritrea and the port-state of Djibouti, Ethiopia, the region's
landlocked superpower, has hit on Berbera as its easiest access to the
sea. Last year's famine in Ethiopia set a precedent, with 100,000 tonnes
of food aid coming through Berbera, which had previously been written
off as too small and too decrepit.
Ethiopia has recently recognised Somaliland passports, and Ethiopian
Airlines has announced the first scheduled flights to Hargeisa. Mr Egal
has even let slip that Somaliland's currency reserves are sitting in the
State Bank of Ethiopia in Addis Ababa, pending the opening of a
Hargeisa branch. Does this suggest that Ethiopia may be about to
recognise Somaliland's independence? Probably not. For a start, Ethiopia
would be too worried about the effect this precedent might have on its
own lawless Somali clans. It is happy to keep on good terms with
Somaliland, and give it enough goodies to gain access to Berbera, but
that is about it.
http://www.economist.com/node/569115?fsrc=scn/tw_ec/the_nation_nobody_knows
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