Somalia’s political crisis demands a bold reset through a transitional technocratic council to replace its dysfunctional clan-based system and rebuild national institutions grounded in merit, unity, and trust.

Somalia stands at a pivotal crossroads—frail yet filled with latent potential. The country faces profound obstacles layered with historical weight and political complexity. What is at stake is not only the functionality of a modern state but the survival of the Somali nation as a cultural and collective identity.

It would be a painful irony if, after withstanding centuries of colonization, war, and famine, Somalia unraveled from within—undone not by external invasion but by a corrosive misuse of education, the ambitions of a narrow political elite, and a system of governance that rewards clannism and punishes merit. Today, the tools that should be driving national progress—education, leadership, governance—have too often become instruments of division and decay. Foreign influence, willingly courted by local actors, has only further distorted national priorities.

One of the most distressing outcomes of this breakdown is the erosion of kinship. Where once familial and clan ties provided strength and solidarity, they now serve as fault lines. It is no longer uncommon to hear Somalis speak of their brother’s children as kin while treating their sister’s children as strangers—or worse, as threats. This corrosive mindset reflects a society retreating from its shared identity into fragmented, adversarial camps.

After years of negotiation and false starts, Somalia’s federal framework—meant to be the solution—has become yet another source of dysfunction. Imposed with the backing of international actors and modeled on political systems foreign to Somalia’s traditions, this federal arrangement has deepened divisions rather than healed them. In a nation where people share the same language, faith, and cultural background, a decentralized, clan-based federal system has proven especially ill-suited. Instead of cultivating unity or good governance, it has enabled factionalism and unqualified leadership, creating a structure that many saw as doomed from the outset.

Before considering the contours of such a solution, however, we must revisit Somalia’s political origins—both pre-colonial and post-independence—to understand how the present impasse came to be.

A Fragmented Past, a Fractured Present

Before the arrival of European powers, the Somali people lived under a constellation of sultanates—independent yet culturally unified. These policies, though separate, often collaborated to resist foreign aggression and upheld a social fabric rooted in shared customs and faith. The concept of a centralized nation-state, as formulated in Europe, arrived late in the Horn of Africa and with disruptive consequences. By the early 20th century, Somali territories had been divided among five colonial powers, a dismemberment that continues to haunt the national psyche.

In the mid-20th century, two of these regions united to form the Somali Republic. Independence brought hope and a sense of purpose, but it also exposed deep tensions between nationalist aspirations and administrative capacity. The dream of reunifying the broader Somali regions quickly clashed with geopolitical realities. After three decades of authoritarian rule, civil war, and state collapse, Somalia has been left with a fragile federal system dominated by clan politics and foreign influence.

Despite almost fifteen years of this federal experiment, Somalia remains mired in chaos. Its political infrastructure is largely ceremonial. Security is threadbare, its economy exists in fragments, and domestic and foreign policy remain reactive at best. The country survives in a quasi-anarchic state, with corrupt politicians, armed groups, and outside interests competing for influence.

Yet the nation’s potential remains vast. Somalia’s geographic position, natural resources, and demographic cohesion offer hope—if channeled through a functional, legitimate system of governance. That system does not currently exist. A fresh approach is long overdue.

The Burden of Misused Education

A crucial part of Somalia’s crisis lies in the betrayal of education’s promise. As I noted in Putting Africa Back to Work, the Art of Nation Building, “Many of our people who were graduates from some of the best universities, both in Somalia and outside Somalia, had no better thoughts than the normal unschooled Somali. They did not use the knowledge and information they gathered for the betterment of their people. They used that power of education to destroy the country further. They only used it for that raw tribal sentiment, which continues to rake havoc in the country.”

That observation, unfortunately, remains accurate. Somalia’s educated class has too often acted as an accelerant to the fire. Rather than serving as technocrats or reformers, they have become enablers of factionalism—using their education to consolidate power, not to promote merit or equity. In many cases, the uneducated have done less harm.

The Problem of Imported Governance

Another foundational problem lies in Somalia’s governance architecture itself. The federal system, modeled on Western templates, was not organically derived. It reflects colonial frameworks that ignored Somalia’s traditional political organization and has led to repeated failures in state reconstruction since 1991.

Power-sharing in Somalia today is allocated based on clan affiliation. This has not created a system of balance but a network of clan-based mini-states where loyalty to kin supersedes loyalty to the nation. In this system, meritocracy is denied, and the presidency—whether federal or regional—becomes a tool of control for dominant clans. This dynamic has made it virtually impossible for qualified, apolitical leaders to rise.

Somalia’s future cannot be built on a foundation that inherently excludes most of its population. A new model is needed—one that is not based on clan quotas or patronage but on expertise, integrity, and inclusivity.

A Transitional Technocratic Council

To break this cycle, Somalia should adopt a transitional governance model led by a technocratic council. This is not without precedent. Countries such as Bosnia, Germany, Cambodia, and Chile have employed similar frameworks during periods of post-conflict reconstruction. Somalia, uniquely homogenous in culture and language, could benefit even more from such an arrangement.

This council would operate for a fixed period—ideally three years—and focus on stabilizing key institutions, rebuilding public trust, and delivering essential services. The emphasis must be on technocratic competence, not political ambition. Education, healthcare, public safety, and economic planning—these are not the domain of clan loyalty but of policy and implementation.

Somaliland and Puntland provide instructive examples. Both succeeded in establishing basic governance and security through localized processes, relatively free from external interference. Their models are not perfect, but they show that Somali-led frameworks can succeed when grounded in consensus and pragmatism.

The technocratic council proposed here would draw professionals from Somalia’s eighteen original regions, as well as from the diaspora. Members would be selected for their qualifications, not their tribal affiliations. A small number of respected elders and religious leaders could supplement this group to ensure cultural legitimacy.

Implementation and Oversight

A technocratic council must not become another instrument of power. Its success depends on transparency, accountability, and a clearly defined exit strategy. Its formation should be based on dialogue—not imposed by foreign actors—and supported by international partners only as facilitators, not overseers.

The council’s mandate would include resetting the constitution, reforming the judiciary, modernizing financial institutions, and creating national security structures. It must also coordinate with Somali civil society and traditional leaders to restore trust in governance. And it must avoid replicating the mistakes of previous transitional arrangements—namely, endless extensions and elite capture.

International donors already support Somalia’s existing, ineffective system. Their backing for a leaner, more accountable model would not only be more cost-effective but also more aligned with long-term development goals. However, donor support should be conditional on benchmarks and performance—not on clan representation or political favor.

The Exit Strategy

The council must operate within a clearly defined timeframe, with benchmarks for constitutional reform, electoral preparation, and institutional capacity-building. Democratic elections should mark the end of the transition, not its indefinite postponement. Anything less risks repeating past failures.

Anticipating the Risks

Challenges are inevitable. The existing federal government and its loosely defined constitution will resist change. Without careful legal and political negotiation—and without the support of key regional and international actors—such resistance could spiral into renewed instability.

Another risk involves legitimacy. Who selects the members of this council? How are they held accountable? These questions can be addressed by creating a nomination system based on Somalia’s historical regions rather than clans and by ensuring that appointees meet transparent criteria of qualification and integrity.

Security remains a core concern. No transitional body can function amid chaos. Somalia once had a capable military. That institutional memory can be revived. Neutral forces, drawn from each region and untainted by recent conflicts, could form the backbone of a new national stabilization effort.

The most enduring risk, however, is social: the entrenchment of clan identity over national consciousness. The council’s success will depend on its ability to deliver real results. Roads, schools, clinics, clean water—these will speak louder than slogans. Public services delivered equitably can do more to erode distrust than any political speech.

The Role of Culture and Communication

Rebuilding Somalia also requires a shift in narrative. A robust cultural strategy—using poetry, oral storytelling, theater, and media—must accompany the political transition. Somalia’s literary and artistic traditions are rich. They must be mobilized not just to inform but to inspire. The Somali identity must be reimagined in civic, not tribal, terms.

The technocratic council cannot succeed on its own. It requires the active participation of the Somali people, including citizens, civil society, youth, and the diaspora. National revival is not a technocratic project—it is a collective one.

Finally…

Somalia does not lack resilience. It lacks systems that reward that resilience. A technocratic transition offers a chance to reset a broken state—not permanently, but long enough to prepare the ground for a more sustainable future. Somalia has been given many externally designed roadmaps. What it needs now is a Somali-led path forward—one that prioritizes trust over transaction, merit over clan, and future over faction.