China in Somalia: A Panda or Dragon?
This week, the Chinese Embassy in Somalia marked 63 years of continued Sino-Somali relations, and with it came a flurry of expansive rhetoric about the longevity of their bilateral relationship. The Chinese Embassy in Somalia proclaimed that ties between the two nations, "which date back to 1,000 years, will endure for 1,000 more." There is certainly a long historical connection between Chinese and Somali communities dating back to the maritime Silk Road, but the Embassy's comments conveniently forget recent years of non-engagement between the two nations.
Beijing's blitz of media messaging, increased humanitarian aid, and the growing educational, cultural, and sporting links with Somalia have elicited mixed commentaries and speculation. Leaving the Embassy's hyperbole aside, the re-engagement of a leading major global power with Somalia is certainly worthy of attention.
Despite domestic economic troubles and the waning of the Belt and Road Initiative, Chinese geopolitical and financial interest in the Horn of Africa remains strong. Chinese mining companies are now the only foreign extractors in Eritrea, replacing the Canadian presence to exploit the secretive country's vast potash mines. Djibouti was the site of China's first overseas naval base, and senior Beijing officials have repeatedly courted Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed.
Engagement with a country wracked by political instability and armed conflict is not the typical modus operandi of China. But Somalia's position on the western Indian Ocean and the Gulf of Aden elevates its importance for the Asian nation. In 1964, Premier Zhou En Lai visited Somalia on his maiden tour of Africa, partly in recognition of Somalia's geostrategic significance. Maintaining a toehold in Somalia and the littoral states of the Red Sea is, from Beijing's perspective, essential to project power and protect its diverse interests.
During the Cold War, China built strategic ties with Somalia and contributed to developing the country's nascent infrastructure. Chinese labourers built many arterial roads and bridges that have since fallen into disrepair. The National Stadium in Mogadishu and the Banaadir Hospital are just some of the developmental legacies of the early Sino-Somali cooperation. But, following the collapse of the Somali state in the early 1990s, the relationship fell away.
Like much of the world, cheap Chinese goods have inundated Somalia's markets from Mogadishu to Bosaaso since the turn of the century. Low-priced electronics, textiles, and footwear, among others, are commonplace in the country, though their quality is often dubious. Somalia's growing trade with Turkey is slowly upstaging Chinese manufacturing though; by 2021, Turkey was exporting over USD 340 million in goods. Somalia, on the other hand, exports minimally to China, largely animal products, including seafood and leather.
Chinese investment, and more general foreign engagement, in Somalia's fisheries remain controversial, however. The environmental impact of dredging the ocean floor by Iranian and Yemeni vessels in the 2000s and continued overfishing have badly impacted Somalia's coastal fishing communities. Today, foreign companies still routinely underpay for access to Somalia's bountiful waters, buying cheap licences from corrupt officials.
Trawling is not the only maritime economic interest China holds in Somalia, though. In 2007, following the fall of the Islamic Courts Union, China's state oil firm COOP won a bid to explore and extract offshore oil. The project was quickly aborted after the Abdullahi Yusuf government failed to pacify the country and resigned in 2008. China is believed to be still interested in Somalia's offshore oil and gas but is likely wary of heavily investing in what would be an attractive target for Al-Shabaab.
China is also yet to fully engage as a security player in Somalia. Its contribution to the African Union Transition Mission in Somalia (ATMIS) has been largely symbolic and non-lethal- often office equipment, computers, and tents. A recent donation of trucks to the Somali National Army (SNA) may be read as a signal that Beijing is seeking to cultivate closer ties with the SNA. But there is little indication that it is seeking to invest heavily in an army beset by numerous problems, particularly considering that the war against Al-Shabaab does not chime with any ideological foreign policy objectives of China, unlike the US's 'War on Terror.' Somalia's neighbours like Ethiopia, which have a more fraught relationship with and are less dependent on the West, are more easily pliable.
But in the transition to a multi-polar world, it may be geostrategic interest, not ideological, that tips Chinese engagement with Somalia into military support. Beijing offers professional military education (PME) to African armies on a vast scale, often targeted at mid-low ranking officers. Military hardware and establishing bases rarely come into the equation, though the 'Wolf Warrior Diplomacy' and assertive rhetoric of Xi Jinping is certainly upping the rhetoric.
It is conceivable that such courses may be offered to Somalia, though their usefulness may be questionable. Chinese PME courses, like all military training, reflect the country's ideological makeup but do so more explicitly than other nations. 'The party controls the gun' remains a central tenet of Chinese PME, sub-ordinating armies to the ruling elite.
Under the current West-dependent administration, Somalia is not about to suddenly pivot to a satellite state of China. Beijing is seemingly aware of this, and the Embassy's comments also signal that the capital thinks and plans on a far longer timescale than the frequently veering foreign policies of Western democracies. The Asian country can afford to wait, maintaining lowkey and symbolic ties with Somalia until the West tires or the country stabilises. It would be a mistake, however, for Villa Somalia to think that its salvation lies eastwards in a neutral China; the days of Deng Xiaoping's 'keep a low profile' foreign policy are long gone.
Gain unlimited access to all our Editorials. Unlock Full Access to Our Expert Editorials — Trusted Insights, Unlimited Reading.
Create your Sahan account LoginUnlock lifetime access to all our Premium editorial content
Two days of heavy clashes (3–4 June) in the Somali capital, Mogadishu, between federal troops and opposition-aligned forces have underscored both the fragility of the city’s security environment and the volatility of electoral politics. Although relative calm has since returned to the two hardest-hit districts - Hawl Wadaag and Abdiaziz - and mediation efforts have intensified, tensions remain high, fuelling fears of renewed armed skirmishes. Credible reports of mass clan militia mobilisation on the edges of Mogadishu speak to a conflict that is widening. The militarisation of politics and elite fragmentation over the electoral process have shattered a core assumption: that Somali leaders will ultimately step back from the brink to negotiate a way forward. Consequently, the country is entering a perilous phase in which domestic factions alone cannot resolve the impasse, making neutral, external mediation a necessity.
Puntland President Sa'id Abdullah Deni is unofficially in the race for the federal presidency of Somalia. By most accounts, the regional leader is running again and this explains his re-engagement with Mogadishu after a three-year hiatus. Driven by shifting electoral dynamics, Deni’s decision to re-engage with the centre forces him to confront a radically altered political landscape in Mogadishu. Under President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud (HSM), the federal government has rewritten the rules of Somali politics, altering the institutional framework and consolidating executive authority.
A flurry of media reports in recent months suggest the US and Eritrea could be inching towards a potential deal to reset decades of frosty relations and a partial lifting of American sanctions imposed in 2021. The news of discreet talks between the two sides, mediated by Egypt, was initially reported by the influential Washington Post newspaper in April 2026 and have since been partially confirmed by official sources.
On 10 May, the Federal Government of Somalia (FGS) unilaterally conducted its contentious 'one-person-one-vote' (OPOV) electoral model in South West State (SWS), directly overriding opposition demands for a negotiated, consensus-based framework. Crucially, the very laws underpinning these OPOV elections are themselves deeply contested: the electoral framework was created following a rushed revision of Somalia’s constitution that many federal member states and opposition groups rejected. The vote, exclusively managed by the National Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission (NIEBC), saw localised polling in 13 districts and across 126 poll centres and 276 stations. While 376,212 citizens were registered, actual turnout reached 132,430 voters - a participation rate of approximately 35.2% - with 128,276 valid ballots cast and 4,154 deemed spoilt/invalid. The electoral outcome, unsurprisingly, solidified a decisive mandate for Hassan Sheikh Mohamud’s Justice and Solidarity Party (JSP); the governing party secured an absolute majority of 51 out of 95 contested legislative seats, comfortably outpacing its closest rival, Sharif Hassan Sheikh Aden’s Ururka Horumarka, which claimed 14 seats.
The Federal Government of Somalia (FGS) has effectively entered a 'grey transition' - a deeply fraught and hotly-contested interregnum that could upend decades of state-building and foment greater instability. By utilising the March 2026 constitutional amendments to extend his presidential mandate until May 2027, Hassan Sheikh Mohamud (HSM) has effectively plunged the fragile Horn of Africa state into a profound period of severe internal strain and legitimacy crisis. This legalistic manoeuvre has roiled domestic politics and put Western partners of Somalia in a difficult spot. If Somalia's Western allies concede to HSM's fait accompli without extracting concessions from him on a negotiated settlement, they are likely to embolden Hassan Sheikh.
Somalia is entering one of the most dangerous political periods in its recent history. An unprecedented convergence of unresolved constitutional disputes, contested electoral arrangements, rising tensions between federal and regional actors, and the growing politicisation of state security institutions has pushed the country towards a potentially destabilising impasse.
'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.