From IEDs to Suicide Drones: Al-Shabaab Seeks to Expand Arsenal
In the aftermath of Hamas's 7 October devastating onslaught in southern Israel, Al-Shabaab spied an opportunity. In Jilib, the extremist's de facto capital, operatives were tasked with studying the widely circulated videos of Hamas fighters attacking Israel's military outposts, villages, and a music festival. These operatives, whose role is to monitor and develop weaponry from information gleaned from the internet, were inspired.
For years, Al-Shabaab has been internally reliant and resourceful in its weapon and explosive capacity, building off its origins and links to Al-Qaeda. Through the Mutafaajiraad, the specialist bomb-making sub-division of the much-feared Amniyaat, Al-Shabaab has sought to refine and expand its deployment of improvised explosive devices (IED), and continues to deploy them with devastating consequences. And these remain highly effective, as witnessed in the person-borne IED attack at Mogadishu's Lido Beach in August that left dozens of civilians dead. But the weaponry is changing with the emergence of 'suicide' drones and other ways to wield explosives that Al-Shabaab is seeking to deploy.
It is not just Hamas's weaponry and battlefield tactics that Al-Shabaab is seeking to emulate, but the Yemen-based, Iranian-backed Houthis as well. The Houthis and Al-Shabaab are now in direct contact, with the former having offered training and support to the Somalia-based extremist group earlier this year. Different Houthi delegations have also been dispatched to meet with Al-Shabaab contingents in Lower Shabelle, Middle Juba, and Bay regions in recent months. In turn, it was also agreed that an initial 30 Al-Shabaab operatives would travel to Yemen to be trained by the Houthis.
At the centre of these pilot projects is the development of its drone capacity, moving beyond the surveillance drones that it has sourced from Malaysia and China. Al-Shabaab's head of procurement and trafficking network is Abdullahi Jeeri, who was sanctioned by the US government in 2021 and has extensive reach for procuring weapons and explosive material. Al-Shabaab is looking to develop both suicide drones– those armed with explosives that detonate on impact– as well as armed drones with mounted guns. The extremist group is seeking to establish its artillery to middle-range capacity, an element that the Houthis may be able to help with. On 5 September 2024, Al-Shabaab militants fired 5 projectiles in Mogadishu, with four hitting the Wadajir district and the fifth striking the Aden Adde International Airport. Just over two weeks later, another 6 projectiles hit the airport’s international quarter. In both incidents, the barrage was 107mm rockets, someone called ‘katyusha’ due to their Soviet origin. The origin of Al-Shabaab's supply of 107mm rockets is uncertain, but in May 2023, Ugandan military officials acknowledged its troops lost a 107mm rocket launcher during a militant raid on the Buulo Marer military base in Lower Shabelle. There are also reports that Al-Shabaab is looking to equip itself with paragliders, as Hamas did on 7 October.
In the meantime, Al-Shabaab continues to deploy its tried-and-tested IEDs and mortar attacks across central and southern Somalia. It does not appear to be currently interested in seizing significant territory but is happy to sit back in its rural safe havens and watch the chaos unfold between Mogadishu and Addis. The Somali National Army and the other assorted military and security infrastructure of Somalia are still struggling to respond to a resurgent Al-Shabaab. Military operations remain occasional, and there remains little suggestion that large-scale operations against the jihadists will be renewed in the immediate future.
Aware they are not under pressure, Al-Shabaab has the capacity and the space to develop these weapons, to send their jihadists to Yemen and elsewhere, and to continue consolidating their grip on areas under their control. What is less clear is why Al-Shabaab does not deploy its impressive arsenal on the green zone in Mogadishu. There have been several attacks in recent months in the heavily fortified area of the capital, including the Lido Beach bombing and the more recent shelling of Halane, but it is far less than what Al-Shabaab has the potential to deploy. It is no exaggeration to say that the jihadists could likely end the international presence in the capital if it so desired by ramping up their attacks on Halane, so it begs the question of why they choose not to deploy their full capability. It may be that Al-Shabaab does not want to end the profitable income it enjoys from taxing the life support that the siloed international community depends upon. Whatever the reason, the occasional shell that lands in Halane is no true reflection of the still-expanding military capacity of Al-Shabaab.
By the Somali Wire team
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
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.
On Tuesday, 14 April, the four-year term of Somalia's federal parliament ended, or rather, it didn't. Villa Somalia's (un)constitutional coup of a year-long term extension for the parliament and president in March remains in effect, leaving the institution in a kind of lingering zombie statehood. It is perhaps a fitting denouement for the 11th parliament, whose degeneration has been so thorough that its formal expiration means little in practice.
Yesterday, 15 April, marked three years of brutal, grinding warfare between the Sudanese army and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF). Wholly neglected by a fading international community, many grim landmarks have been passed; another genocide in Darfur, the weaponisation of rape and starvation, another famine, or the desecration of Khartoum, El Fasher, and other major cities. And with no ceasefire or settlement in sight, the war has continued to swell, drawing in each neighbouring African country as tussling Middle Eastern powers grapple for the upper hand-- leaving Sudan in tatters.
As global energy markets reel from the partial shutdown of the Strait of Hormuz and war insurance premiums skyrocket by nearly 4,000%, an unlikely maritime security provider is emerging as a critical stabiliser in one of the world's most vital shipping corridors. The Somaliland Coast Guard, operating from the port city of Berbera, has quietly begun providing maritime escort services, seeking to reduce shipping insurance costs—and consequently, the price of commodities and energy for consumers across the Horn of Africa and beyond.
Most nights in a number of dimly lit bars in Addis Ababa, one can hear a vibraphone hum over a syncopated bassline. The sprightly rhythm is unmistakably jazz, but the scales are Ethiopian; pentatonic, looping and melodic. Five decades after its pioneering by visionary musician Mulatu Astatke, Ethio-jazz remains in full swing, with its renaissance from the late 1990s persevering despite tough political and cultural conditions.