Türkiye's Deepwater Reach in Somalia
In the 17th century, the Ottoman polymath Kâtip Çelebi penned 'The Gift to the Great on Naval Campaigns', a great tome that analysed the history of Ottoman naval warfare at a moment when Constantinople sought to reclaim maritime supremacy over European powers. Though focused on the Mediterranean, the cartographer and author recognised the potential riches of both seas and coastlines, determining that to reap the benefits offshore, his Ottoman compatriots must begin on land. Such widely shared logic has endured. And centuries later, with Turkish-trained Haram'ad and Gorgor forces streaming into Baidoa on Monday to oust South West President Abdiaziz Laftagareen, it is hard not to shake the images of Türkiye's newest deepwater drillship, the Cagri Bey, docking in Mogadishu last month.
Few will mourn the unceremonious ejection of Laftagareen, with the South West president having tied his colours to Villa Somalia's mast until the 11th hour. But it was a chilling signal of just how far the incumbent government is willing to go-- and with Turkish support-- for its own myopic interests. The historic guardrails against the domineering instincts of Somalia's central governments comprehensively failed, not least Ethiopia's military presence, which, rather ironically, had installed Laftagareen amidst violent scenes in late 2018. In the 48 hours since Baidoa fell to the government, several senior exiled and government-affiliated Rahanweyne politicians returned to the city, including Minister of Religion Mukhtar Roobow. However, the wrestle for the political future of South West, with Al-Shabaab still controlling the vast majority of its hinterland, is likely to continue for some time—and seemingly now with Turkish stakes.
The role of Turkish military support was marginal in the grand scheme of Laftagareen's removal, given the weight of the key Rahanweyne sub-clan's opposition to his presidency and federal firepower. But it remains notable nonetheless. In the past 18 months, a flurry of Turkish jets, helicopters, drones, and armoured vehicles-- several of which were paraded through Baidoa this week-- have made their way to Mogadishu, always underpinned by pledges of counter-terror assistance. And no doubt, Turkish aerial support and military advisors proved critical in the dislodging of Al-Shabaab from a handful of bridge towns in Lower Shabelle last year.
But the politicisation of such military aid has been abundantly clear as well, including during Mohamed Abdullahi Farmaajo's presidency, when Ankara played second fiddle to Qatar's Islamist state-building agenda. In 2026, though, Türkiye is the central story, and the allegations that Bayraktar drones were used not just for reconnaissance but for combat in South West suggest that Ankara is ready to play a more muscular role in south-central Somalia in support of their Justice and Solidarity Party (JSP) allies. For Ankara, there appears to be little differentiation between Mogadishu's domestic political opponents and Al-Shabaab; both are impediments to its neo-Ottoman quest for Somalia's natural resources.
Ankara's geostrategic interests-- on and offshore-- in Somalia have grown substantially as well, ranging from its TURKSOM military base to offshore oil drilling to the Warsheekh 'space base' in Middle Shabelle. Principal among the facilitators has been Ports Minister Abdulkadir Nur 'Jama', a former defence minister often referred to as 'Wasiir TikTok', given his love of social media, or 'Mr 25%', due to his reputation for corruption. Though senior federal officials are now hailing the delivery of democracy (at the barrel of a gun) to South West, rumours continue to abound that Jama is first in line to inherit Laftagareen's seat, alongside Speaker of Parliament Aden Madoobe, the federal livestock minister, and Somalia's ambassador to Tanzania. Though another may end up in Baidoa's presidential palace, Turkish support for Jama-- and Laftagareen's ousting-- further reflects that Ankara has, for some time, been aware of the need to secure its interests beyond the confines of Mogadishu.
As Ports Minister, it was Jama, too, who welcomed Cagri Bey from Mersin to Somalia last month, the first deepwater drillship of Türkiye to be deployed outside the country's territorial waters. Accompanied by three Turkish naval vessels — epitomising Ankara's blend of commercial and security interests — the vessel was forced to circumnavigate Africa, unable to pass through the Suez Canal due to the rig's height. Drilling is now slated to begin this month at the Curad-1 well site, located 370 kilometres off Mogadishu at a depth of 7,500 metres, with the ship capable of drilling up to 12,000 metres below the seabed. Two years of steady progress driven by Ankara have led to this point, motivated by Türkiye's broader effort to diversify its reliance on imported hydrocarbons, particularly from Russia, as well as from Iraq, Azerbaijan, and Kazakhstan. Such measures-- with Ankara focused on exploiting the Black Sea's resources-- feel particularly germane with the Middle East and the Strait of Hormuz aflame, and the logic of the globalised energy industry run ground by the ongoing US/Israel war with Iran.
With offshore drilling slated to begin by the end of April, it may appear that Villa Somalia has found a panacea for dwindling foreign support. Not quite; the now-infamous hydrocarbon exploration agreement signed in March 2024 is still skewed wildly in Ankara's favour. Most egregiously, Türkiye is entitled to recover up to 90% of oil or natural gas produced as expenses before profits are shared, whilst Somalia's future royalties have been capped at just 5%. Initial public goodwill over the promise of oil exploration has been unsurprisingly dampened by revelations that Türkiye's state-owned petroleum company will also be exempt from paying bonuses on production or development.
Naturally, the legality and constitutional basis of the agreement remain highly dubious, but it has been overshadowed by the wholesale rewriting-- and passage-- of the Provisional Constitution. Issues of fiscal federalism and resource-sharing with Puntland and Jubaland may pale in comparison to the violent ejection of a Federal Member State president, but they are two facets of the same monopolising agenda. Much has been made about how a successor to Hassan Sheikh might handle the hydrocarbon agreement, with any legal dispute to be settled in Istanbul rather than via international arbitration or domestic Somali courts. And though drilling is expected to begin, vast sums will be needed to plough into developing the necessary infrastructure for commercial production, as warned by Turkish Energy Minister Alparslan Bayraktar. This year, Ankara also hopes to begin land-based direct drilling, though Bayraktar himself stated that "they don't even have a road to access the area... security is another challenge."
According to estimates, there may be over 30 billion barrels of oil and gas in Somali territory, making it one of the largest untapped markets in Africa. Such a promise of transformative resource wealth beggars belief, presenting a seismic rewiring of Somalia's agriculture-livestock dependent economies. And yet, the political economy of oil presents another challenge in Somalia's fractured context, given its highly centralised nature, with export revenues overwhelmingly channelled to the centre before domestic redistribution. South Sudan —which shares many similarities with Somalia —is a particularly pertinent example of the 'perils' of misused oil, which have accentuated a deeply unstable patrimonial economy. This is, of course, not to suggest that Somalia's natural resources should not be extracted, but a Sovereign Wealth Fund akin to Norway or Saudi Arabia is unlikely to emerge from the current context.
Some have suggested that Hassan Sheikh's administration is clinging to power until the bountiful rewards of the oil can be realised, and the Damul Jadiid core can retire in riches to the Gulf, Nairobi, or Türkiye. The scenes on Monday-- and the telling insistence that all must submit to the new 'democratic' system-- suggest a government going nowhere. Moreover, the war in the Middle East will, most probably, lead to a doubling down of Türkiye's multifaceted interests in Somalia-- be it oil or, more concerningly, the prospect of a military base in Laas Qoray in the contested Sanaag region on the Gulf of Aden. Offered by Mogadishu and intended as a geopolitical retort to the Israeli and Emirati interests along the strategic waterway, the prospect of rivalrous military installations along the Gulf of Aden, the Israelis in Berbera and the Turks in Laas Qoray, continues to rise.
Centuries ago, Kâtip Çelebi evocatively warned that maritime power without secure shores is condemned to collapse, and that ports, coasts, and hinterlands had to be effectively controlled. Mismanaged resources and overreach, too, risked weakening the state from within. Villa Somalia would do well to learn the same lessons in 2026, with its military adventurism at home-- aided by foreign ambitions and the promise of offshore riches from Ankara-- threatens to leave Somalia fractured, exposed, and vulnerable to the very disasters the Ottoman scholar long ago sought to warn against.
The Somali Wire Team
