Issue No. 171

'Give Peace a Chance' was the title of a 1969 single written by John Lennon, recorded during his famous honeymoon 'bed-in' with Yoko Ono. Capturing the counterculture sentiments of the time, it was adopted as an anthem of the anti-Vietnam War movement in the following decade. Thirty years later, a provocative inversion of the title-- 'Give War a Chance'-- was adopted in a well-known Foreign Affairs article by Edward Luttwak in 1999, in which he argued that humanitarian interventions or premature negotiations can freeze conflict, resulting in endless, recurring war. Luttwak contended that war has an internal logic, and if allowed to 'run its course', can bring about a more durable peace.

A foreign-backed president, a besieged capital city, and a jihadist movement affiliated with Al-Qaeda-- this time not Somalia, but Mali. Late last week, Jama'at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM), the transnational Salafist-jihadist group in Mali, stormed across much of the country's north, as well as entering Bakamo and assassinating the defence minister. The coordinated offensive-- in conjunction with the Tuareg separatist movement, the Azawad Liberation Front (ALF)-- has left the military junta reeling, and forced the withdrawal of their Russian allies from a number of strategic towns.

Last week, a bombshell Wall Street Journal article revealed that Washington was exploring a reset in relations with Eritrea, with US envoy for Africa Massad Boulos having met privately with senior regime officials in Egypt. Any normalisation of ties now appears to be on ice, with the reaction to Boulos's meetings — facilitated by Egypt — having been met with short shrift. But the episode speaks to broader issues about American foreign policy in the Horn and the accelerating reconfiguration of the Red Sea political order, which will not go away simply because this particular overture may have stalled.

Last weekend, the Murusade, a major sub-clan of the powerful Hawiye clan family, staged one of the largest and most colourful coronations of a clan chief in recent memory in Mogadishu. The caleemasarka (enthronement) of Ugaas Abdirizaq Ugaas Abdullahi Ugaas Haashi, the new Ugaas or sultan of the Murusade, was attended by thousands of delegates from all parts of Somalia. Conducted next to the imposing and magnificent Ottomanesque Ali Jim'ale Mosque, on the Muslim day of rest, Friday, the occasion blended the Islamic, the regal and the customary; a restatement of an ancient tradition very much alive and vibrant.

With all eyes trained on the Strait of Hormuz blockades and their geopolitical convulsions, discussions and concerns, too, have risen about the perils of other globalised chokepoints, not least the Bab al-Mandab. The threats to the stability of the Bab al-Mandab, the Gulf of Aden, and the Red Sea may not arise principally from the escalatory logic that the US, Iran, and Israel have been locked in, but the threats posed from collapse and contested sovereignty offer little relief. Off Somalia's northern coastline in particular, it is transnational criminal networks — expressed in smuggling, piracy, and, less visibly but no less consequentially, illegal, unreported, and unregulated (IUU) fishing — that define the character of offshore insecurity. It is this last phenomenon that provides the foundation on which much of Somalia's maritime disorder is built, and which remains the most consistently neglected.

In the past months, a number of unsettling images and videos have emerged from the Russian frontlines in the Ukraine war. Within the horrors of the grinding "kill zone," where kamikaze drones strafe the sky for any signs of movement, yet another concerning dimension has emerged—the use of African recruits by Moscow in the conflict, often under false pretences. Particularly drawn from Kenya, many reportedly believed they were signing contracts to work as drivers or security guards, only to be shipped to the front lines upon arrival. Such activities are illustrative of several issues, including Russia's relationship with countries in the Horn of Africa, one shaped more by opportunistic realpolitik than genuine partnership.

Villa Somalia's triumph in Baidoa may yet turn to ashes. Since the ousting of wary friend-turned-foe, Abdiaziz Laftagareen, in late March, the federal government has ploughed ahead with preparations for state- and district-level elections in South West. Nominally scheduled for next week, President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud has chosen to reward his stalwart parliamentary ally, Aden Madoobe from the Rahanweyne/Hadaamo, with the regional presidency after some vacillation, naming him the sole Justice and Solidarity Party (JSP) candidate

Another showdown over Tigray's political architecture is unfolding, with the future of the Tigray Interim Administration (TIA) once again at stake. For much of this year, fears of renewed war have loomed over Ethiopia's northernmost region, with the federal government mobilising substantial forces to the edges of Tigray.

In Act III, Scene I of William Shakespeare's tragedy Coriolanus, the tribune Sicinius addresses the gathered representatives and, rejecting the disdain the titular character displays towards plebeians, defends them, stating, "What is the city but the people?" Capturing the struggle between the elite and the masses of ancient Rome, the line has remained politically resonant for centuries--emphasising that a city, democracy, and state rely on the people, not just their leader. Or perhaps, not just its buildings. It is a lesson missed by Villa Somalia, though, with the twilight weeks of President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud's term in office — at least, constitutionally — dominated by the government's twin campaigns in the capital: land clearances and the militarisation of Mogadishu.