History Repeats: Somalia Faces a 1995 Moment
In March 1993, UNOSOM II replaced the US-led UNITAF with one of the broadest mandates ever authorised under Chapter VII by the UN, tasked with everything from disarmament to the restoration of law and order, political reconciliation, the reconstitution of Somalia's national institutions, and the protection of humanitarian relief. It was the heyday of post-Cold War interventionism, buoyed by a revival of 'liberal internationalism' and the UN. What commenced, however, ended up as poorly conceived humanitarianism at the barrel of the gun. Just a few months into its operations in 1993, the intervention had devolved into US-backed warring against the Somali National Alliance, led by General Mohamed Farah Aidid, abandoning the tasks of reconciliation and institution-building, for which the mission was anyway wildly ill-equipped.
The US-led intervention in the early 1990s curbed the worst excesses of the warring militias in south-central Somalia, which had led to roughly half a million deaths by mid-1992 from famine and war. But though the intervention quelled much of the destructive violence, the politics of Somalia stagnated, with militias transforming into political mafias that controlled and extorted the country's economic infrastructure. Enclaves were carved out by the dominant warlords, while minority clans were subjugated. There are almost too many blunders to list in UNOSOM II, but among them was a fundamentally flawed understanding of Somalia's then-collapsed political economy. And the UN and US quickly came to be regarded as a hostile occupying force after the extreme violence meted out in October 1993 in the Battle for Mogadishu, after the downing of two American helicopters, poisoning public sentiment against the foreign troops.
UNOSOM II was intended to create space for Somali leaders to reach a peace agreement and build a functioning government, but the political elements of the mission soon atrophied. But imposing 'legitimacy' by force was always doomed to failure, as was attempting to build state institutions without a centre or political settlement. Still, to this end, vast quantities of cash were dumped into the country to build out a 10,000-man police force, a judiciary, and other institutions nominally intended to ensure security--all of which disintegrated after UNOSOM II's departure. These 'wins' of state-building proved wafer-thin, solely propped up by foreign largesse without political consideration. One should similarly question how sustainable today's foreign-funded state would be if all assistance were pulled tomorrow.
AUSSOM and its predecessors are not UNOSOM II, a failed mission marked by excessive force and human rights violations. Instead, much of the fragile security of Somalia and key towns held by the government were the result of the African Union peacekeeping operations dislodging Al-Shabaab from much of south-central Somalia a decade ago. These missions, with far less of a political mandate, have been intended to provide breathing room for both developing the country's nascent military and securing a political means to resist Al-Shabaab. But neither has happened, with little tangible progress having been made in 'transitioning' towards a Somali-owned security architecture, and the Somali National Army (SNA) remaining a demoralised, politicised, inept morass. And, of course, the elite-dominated politics of Somalia remain in disarray as well.
Post-1993, the US and the UN political appetite for intervention in Somalia evaporated, with funding declining in turn. Today, though there may not have been an epochal calumnity surrounding the AU operations like Black Hawk Down, there is undoubtedly weariness and fatigue within the donor community towards funding yet another peacekeeping iteration. Political attention within the EU-- which has borne the brunt of funding these missions-- has turned towards Ukraine and Gaza, while the US is politically disengaging and diversifying its military support in Somalia away from the centre towards Jubaland, Puntland, and Somaliland.
Further, UNSC consultations in May 2025 failed to endorse the 2719 financing framework, with the US rubbishing the prospect of using non-assessed UN contributions to fund the mission. And hopes that a Gulf or Arab power might step into the funding void this year have come and gone, though the British still stumped up USD 22 million for AUSSOM at the UN General Assembly in September. And so AUSSOM remains in deep arrears, with the Troop Contributing Nations eating tens of millions of dollars in costs to sustain their troops in Somalia. There is a real danger that if sustainable funding cannot be secured in the immediate months, AUSSOM will have to diminish in some capacity or fold entirely.
So what happens next? Earlier this year, the UNSC requested a briefing by 30 September on an exit strategy for AUSSOM, suggesting that at least some in New York are preparing for all eventualities. If AUSSOM must fold or stagger on in some reduced state, the Troop Contributing Nations —Kenya, Ethiopia, Uganda, Egypt, and Djibouti —all will be forced to decide whether to maintain or pull out their forces. It is highly probable that Nairobi and Addis would maintain bilateral troops within Somalia due to their own interests in securing buffer zones along their borders, and enduring ties with particular administrations such as Jubaland. With around 4,500 soldiers deployed and having led operations in Lower Shabelle, the continued appetite of the Ugandans to absorb casualties-- without payment-- is another question mark hanging over the future of AUSSOM. But Kampala's deployment is motivated by more than an interest in 'stabilising' Somalia; it is part of its power projection in East Africa as a stable partner —sanitising its own self-interested military excursions in South Sudan and the Democratic Republic of Congo.
But if the Ugandan forces were to withdraw, it would certainly aid Al-Shabaab's aspirations to seize Mogadishu, with the Ugandan-led Sector 1 of AUSSOM containing the capital and its environs. In March 1995, the remaining foreign troops were evacuated from Mogadishu's port; today, it is more likely that foreign troops and the broader diplomatic presence in Halane would be evacuated by aircraft. And a folding of AUSSOM may not just precipitate this, but an eminently possible kamikaze drone attack on the international compound by Al-Shabaab as well, for instance.
Another comparison might be made between 1995 and 2025-- that Somalia's political settlement is again fractured, and there appears neither the deft skill nor appetite amongst internationals to seize the nettle to navigate a path to the 2026 elections. The UN has taken itself off the political chessboard of its own volition, neutering its mandate to negotiate and intervene at the worst possible moment, and the US appears to be preparing for total disengagement from Somalia's politics. Yet some might also argue that the persistent internationalisation and regionalisation of Somalia's security have meant that the Somali political elite can wholly avoid the question of political settlement as well. With AUSSOM and its predecessors securing key cities, international security and developmental assistance have continued to flow by the billions into the government's coffers, sustaining a highly profitable status quo for 'crisis entrepreneurs.' It should therefore come as no surprise that Somalia's enterprising Defence Minister, Ahmed Fiqi, has called for the expansion of the SNA to 100,000 troops, funded by hypothetical - and necessarily naïve – foreign donors.
For the same reason, AUSSOM's potential withdrawal may have a silver lining. In 1995, post-UN withdrawal, Somalia began to coalesce around regional administrations that became the first 'building blocks' of today's federal system. Today, the inevitable reduction of security assistance flowing into Mogadishu-- along with the termination of lucrative contracts required to sustain the 'khaki economy' of the international campus at Halane-- could help to restore the natural balance of power between the federal government and federal member states, enabling genuine negotiations over Somalia's federal architecture to resume.
Unless, of course, Villa Somalia persists in dialatory political gestures and electoral procrastination, in which case AUSSOM's departure would instead likely herald the ascendance of Al-Shabaab in south-central Somalia, leaving behind a fragmented, warring nation.
The Somali Wire Team
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