Ilene R. Prusher, Special to The Christian Science Monitor
BOSSASO, SOMALIA -- The banks here are brimming with people.
Not with people banking,
but with some of the hundreds of thousands of refugees who fled the utter
chaos that erupted
in the collapse of this East African nation's regime in
1991. When looters stripped every building and moved out, the
displaced people seeking refuge moved in.
Today, squatters
make their homes where commerce and government should. Money is
exchanged at thatched, open-air stalls instead, where men
armed with Kalashnikovs sit on old
flour bags full of the devalued Somali shilling, now 7,500
to the dollar, and wait for
customers.
The fact that Somalis
trying to plan a convention this November to discuss national
reconciliation don't even have a public building to meet
in is just one of the many barriers to
reestablishing a government in a country that has had none
for six years. And after the US-led
United Nations mission in Somalia (UNISOM) withdrew its
forces in 1995 - after failing to
restore order or capture any of their least-favorite warlords
- Somalis realize that the impetus
for national repair and reunification must come from within.
That is not to say
that Somalis are not aggravated by how quickly their war-torn nation has
dropped off the international community's agenda in the
years since a clutter of world
television cameras awaited the arrival of American marines
on Somali shores in December
1992.
"The international
community says that until you are on your feet, we are not going to help
you," says Mohammed Abshir Waldo, secretary-general
of the Somali Salvation Democratic
Front (SSDF), the ruling political faction in northeast
Somalia. "The answer is, how am I supposed to show you that if I
can't stand on my feet?"
But with some interest
in lending assistance from the Arab League and from Italy, which once held
part of Somalia as a
colony, Somali leaders are planning to hold a conference
to establish a "National Salvation Council" this fall.
With an expected
1,000 delegates representing 26 groups and political factions across the
country, organizers are
hoping to establish an interim authority that would set
up national elections within six months.
Gen. Mohammad Abshir,
the top SSDF official in Bossaso, insists it can be done. "Our society
has been fragmented into
regional groups as a result of our painful national tragedy,
and we want to get our leadership all in one place, discuss our
differences, find a peaceful solution, and then form an
interim national government," he says.
In the past, attempts
at such a gathering have been made in places like neighboring Ethiopia
or Kenya. This, however,
will be the first attempt at national reconciliation on
Somali soil, giving optimists hope that they have reached a turning
point.
"Somalia is
passing through a painful and shameful period, and I believe we will come
through," says General Abshir.
"Our people have suffered enough." In the havoc
that has swept the country since the beginning of the decade, some
300,000 Somalis starved to death, thousands of others died
in fighting between clan-based militias, half a million fled to
neighboring countries, and hundreds of thousands more became
internally displaced persons.
State without
a state
Today, Somalia is a state without a state, a disjointed
patchwork of regions with varying degrees of anarchy and neglect.
In the south, three major warlords still vie for control
of the ravaged capital of Mogadishu. In Mogadishu and elsewhere
in southern Somalia, banditry is a more persistent problem
than actual fighting.
Here in northeast
Somalia there is relative stability, but efforts to launch regional administrations
have had scant success.
The northwest of the country has been declared independent
Somaliland by President Ibrahim Igal, a
strongman-turned-governor who has imposed touches of law
and order but whose statehood is recognized by no one.
He says he will participate in the unity conference, but
only as an "elder" - and only if his state is acknowledged as
sovereign.
Abshir says he is
upbeat because at least one of Mogadishu's main warlords - the son of the
late Mohammed Farrah
Aideed - has told the general that he is in favor of national
unity.
But the international
community has lower expectations. After the elder Aideed's murder last
year, American officials had
hope that the US-educated Hussein Aideed might tame his
father's political faction and bring them to the peace table, but
those expectations have not been met.
Moreover, UN sources
say that Hussein Aideed is opposed to participating in the Bossaso conference.
That makes
many Somalis and international observers doubt whether any
kind of reconciliation is possible any time soon. Some
Somalis say that they estimate it could be another eight
to 10 years before they have a central government again.
Barriers to reunification
In a country where everyone speaks Somali, practices Islam,
is considered part of one ethnic group, why such
pessimism? Even optimists like Abshir recognize several
key and self-perpetuating factors that act as barriers to
reunification:
Power-hungry
warlords and militia leaders who drove the destruction of Somalia in the
first place. Each fears
losing control. All say they are in
favor of forming a new central government, explains one Somali political
analyst,
but each one thinks he should be president.
Young
men employed in militias or "security" positions who fear that
they have a job to lose if Somalia is reunified.
"In Mogadishu every guy under 30
is a warrior, so his job is to sit around with his AK-47 and chew khat
[a mild
narcotic]," says a UN security
official.
Other
local and foreign players who profit from the anarchy. These include militia
members who get paid to
provide security, khat importers who
don't have to pay duties on the narcotic leaf, and foreign businesses who
have seized the opportunity to exploit
Somalia's few natural resources.
People who participated in the looting and killing. Many are afraid they could be held accountable for their crimes.
Warlords
who may not be able to bring all their members under control, or disarm
or disband their militias even if
they tried. Somalis are fiercely independent,
and many of the armed do not answer to anyone except fellow family
members.
Explains a development
expert here: "It's not like Afghan tribal chiefs who have total control
over their tribe. The
warlords have loose control over their military power. Even
if they shake hands, can they deliver the troops?"