The Federal Government of Somalia (FGS) has a problem: it needs to appear democratic while avoiding actual democracy. The solution? Perpetual promises of elections that never quite arrive.
This isn't incompetence or circumstantial delay. It's a deliberate strategy refined over successive administrations. The pattern is consistent: announce elections, cite obstacles, request extensions, repeat.
The Pattern of Delay
Somalia's last direct presidential election was in 1967—before most of the current population was born. Since the 2000 Arta peace process, every transition has involved clan elders selecting parliamentarians who then select the president. This system—variously called 4.5, clan-based representation, or "traditional selection"—entrenches clan dynamics while providing a veneer of representation.
The government claims this is temporary. Every administration promises "next time will be different." The 2012 transition was supposed to lead to elections by 2016. Then 2020. Then 2024. Each deadline passes with familiar excuses: insecurity, lack of infrastructure, need for constitutional reform, disputes over representation.
These obstacles are real but convenient. Somalia has conducted census activities in parts of the country. Local elections have occurred in some regions. Mobile money and telecommunications reach most populated areas. The technical capacity exists if the political will existed.
Why Avoid Elections?
Power. The current system concentrates decision-making among a small elite. Clan elders who select MPs are themselves unelected and unaccountable. MPs who participate in the selection process benefit from the status quo. The president, once selected, has limited incentive to pursue reforms that might unseat him.
In a genuine electoral system, these actors would face accountability. Citizens could vote based on performance, ideas, or even just clan affinity if they chose—but crucially, they would choose. The current system removes that choice while maintaining the language of democracy.
The international community plays along. Donors express "concern" about delays but continue to engage with and fund successive governments. Aid doesn't depend on democratic legitimacy; it depends on counterterrorism cooperation and maintaining some semblance of governance. As long as Somalia doesn't completely collapse, the current arrangement suits external actors fine.
The Constitution as Shield
Constitutional reform has become another delay mechanism. The government argues elections can't proceed until the constitution is finalized and approved via referendum. This sounds reasonable until you examine the timeline.
The provisional constitution was adopted in 2012. Thirteen years later, the permanent constitution remains in draft form. Why? Disputes over federalism, resource-sharing, and representation—legitimate issues, certainly, but also perfect sources of perpetual delay. Every contentious clause can justify postponement.
Meanwhile, constitutional questions that would threaten incumbent power get resolved quickly. Term limits? Extended. Parliamentary procedures? Modified as needed. The constitution is flexible when convenient, rigid when democracy threatens.
The Security Excuse
Al-Shabaab's presence provides the most politically acceptable justification for delay. Security concerns are legitimate—the group controls territory, conducts attacks, and would likely target electoral infrastructure. These are genuine obstacles.
But security concerns don't explain why elections haven't occurred even in secure regions. Somaliland conducts elections despite sharing a similar threat environment. Puntland manages local elections. Individual districts in southern Somalia have held local votes. The security situation varies dramatically across the country, yet the response remains uniform: no elections anywhere.
This reveals the lie. If security were the only issue, you'd expect differentiated approaches—elections in secure areas, alternative arrangements in contested zones. Instead, insecurity in Galmudug justifies no elections in Mogadishu. A bombing in Beledweyne delays voting in Baidoa. The government treats any insecurity anywhere as justification for no democracy everywhere.
The International Community's Complicity
Western governments and international organizations aren't naive about this dynamic. They understand the pattern. Yet they continue to treat Somalia's government as a legitimate partner, to channel hundreds of millions in aid, to provide military support and training.
Why? Because the alternatives seem worse. Somalia's government, however flawed, provides a degree of stability and cooperates on counterterrorism. The fear is that pushing too hard on democratization could trigger collapse, empower Al-Shabaab, or create a power vacuum.
This calculation might be reasonable in the short term but becomes self-fulfilling over time. By accepting non-democratic governance as "good enough," the international community removes any incentive for actual reform. The government can secure aid and recognition without the political risks of democratization.
What Genuine Reform Would Look Like
If Somalia's government were serious about elections, certain steps would be obvious:
- Conduct voter registration in secure areas immediately
- Hold local elections as pilots, learning from the process
- Invest in electoral infrastructure—not as future promises but as current priorities
- Make constitutional reform contingent on popular input, not elite bargaining
- Accept that imperfect elections in some areas beat no elections anywhere
None of these steps are happening. Instead, we get committees, consultations, roadmaps, and conference communiqués—all process, no progress.
The Cost of This Lie
The absence of electoral accountability has consequences beyond democracy. It entrenches corruption, as leaders don't fear public backlash. It undermines governance, as officials owe their positions to clan elders rather than citizens. It fuels conflict, as groups excluded from elite bargaining turn to violence.
Perhaps most damagingly, it corrodes public trust. Somalis understand the game. They see promises made and broken, deadlines set and ignored. This breeds cynicism about governance generally—not just about elections but about the possibility of functional institutions.
When people stop believing in peaceful political change, they pursue change through other means. Somalia's persistent instability isn't just about Al-Shabaab or clan conflict; it's about a political system that excludes most people from meaningful participation.
Conclusion
The Somali government isn't failing to deliver elections—it's succeeding at avoiding them. This isn't a bug in the system; it's how the system is designed to work. Those in power benefit from the status quo and face no meaningful pressure to change it.
Recognizing this doesn't require cynicism, just honesty. Somalia's leaders aren't stupid or incompetent (though some may be). They're rational actors responding to incentives. As long as they can maintain power without elections, secure international recognition without democracy, and access aid without accountability, they'll continue doing exactly that.
The tragedy is that Somalia has the human capital, the resources, and increasingly the security environment to attempt genuine democracy. What it lacks is a governing class willing to take that risk. And so the lies continue, the deadlines slip, and another generation grows up never having voted for their leaders.
The question isn't whether Somalia will eventually hold elections. It's whether those elections will happen because the government decided to allow them, or because public pressure finally made them unavoidable.