Three decades without a name on the world map, but with institutions and important ports. How a quiet, stable periphery became the center of a great power game
At the very end of 2025, Israel broke through a wall that for thirty years had looked like an unwritten taboo of African politics. It became the first to recognize Somaliland as an independent state, thereby shattering the dogma of the inviolability of colonial borders and opening a new chapter in the struggle for influence over the Red Sea.
Somaliland, which on many maps is still listed as the northwestern part of Somalia, has its own history of statehood. It is the former British Somaliland, which in June 1960 was an internationally recognized state for a few days before voluntarily uniting with former Italian Somalia into a single republic. That community, however, never became a true union but rather a series of imposed compromises; the north felt politically and economically marginalized, and the dictatorship of Siad Barre turned dissatisfaction into open rebellion. Northern cities—above all Hargeisa—were bombed in the late 1980s, thousands of people were killed, and hundreds of thousands displaced. When Barre fell in 1991, the southern part of the country slid into chaos, while northern clans gathered at a conference in Burao and proclaimed a return to the borders of the former protectorate. In their interpretation, this was not a new secession but the restoration of earlier statehood and the termination of a union that had effectively ceased to exist. The world, however, chose to pretend that this decision did not exist—essentially until now, the moment when Israel assessed that Somaliland could become a useful ally on the edge of the Red Sea.
Unlike the rest of Somalia, which for decades has drifted between fragile governments and armed groups, Somaliland gradually built its own state, albeit without representatives at the United Nations. It has its own currency, tax system, police and army; it issues passports and holds elections with peaceful transfers of power. A constitution confirmed by referendum introduced a hybrid model: one chamber of parliament is elected, the other brings together traditional elders, so decisions are made through a combination of modern procedures and clan arbitration. From the outside the system looks archaic, but within the region it functions—at least compared to what is happening in Mogadishu.
The price of isolation is high, however. Somaliland has no access to international financial institutions, no loans or development programs, and relies on customs revenues and remittances from a strong diaspora. There are also internal fractures: eastern regions such as Sool and parts of Sanaag periodically challenge Hargeisa’s authority, and clashes in the city of Las Anod have reminded observers that even this de facto state is not a monolith but a project that must be politically renegotiated again and again.
Despite relative stability, for three decades no one wanted to recognize it. The official explanation was always the same: after the colonial period, Africa agreed that borders would not be touched so the continent would not turn into an endless war of all against all. In practice, this means that artificial lines drawn in the days of London and Paris are treated as more important than real political processes and the will of the population. The African Union even sent special envoys who openly wrote in their reports that the Somaliland case is unique and historically justified, but no one was ready to be the first to translate that into a legal decision.
Governments from Niger to Ethiopia fear their own separatist movements and do not want a precedent that could one day be turned against them. Western powers aligned themselves with this fear, officially under the slogan of stability and support for Somalia, even though in other parts of the world they have dismantled states and drawn new entities when it suited them. In that calculus, Somaliland could remain safe and relatively stable, but without the noun “state.” The world liked to use its advantages—from security cooperation to the fight against piracy—but did not want to pay the political price of recognition.
Israel entered this story with a completely different calculation. Tel Aviv does not recognize Somaliland because it believes in principles of self-determination (obviously), but because it sees it as a potential foothold in the long shadow war with Iran and its allies. Somaliland lies along the Gulf of Aden, a few hundred kilometers from the Yemeni coast where the Houthis, with Iranian support, threaten shipping and occasionally launch missiles toward Israel. Control over traffic through the Bab el-Mandeb strait has become a matter of survival for the Israeli economy and energy supplies, and every runway and radar on the southern coast of the Red Sea takes on special weight. The United Arab Emirates are already active in Berbera, having invested in the port and used it as a logistical base for intervention in Yemen, so Israel is entering a network that already exists. At the same time, it sends a message to Ankara and Doha, which for years have been building influence in Mogadishu and training Somali forces. By recognizing Somaliland, the position of the Turkish–Qatari bloc in Somalia is weakened, and a new Muslim state ready to cooperate with Israel is created. Israel’s gain is clear: Mogadishu has no relations with Tel Aviv anyway, while Somaliland is ready to speak openly about partnership and the Abraham Accords.
Of course, recognition would not be so sensitive if Somaliland were not located in one of the most important strategic areas of today. Berbera is a port facing a strait through which a significant share of world trade and oil tankers passes. For landlocked Ethiopia it represents a valuable corridor; for the Emirates and potentially other Gulf monarchies, a place for power projection; and for all major powers, an opportunity to monitor key maritime routes. Along the coast lies fishing potential, and inland geologists have for years spoken of oil, gas, and minerals waiting for the right political moment to become an investment story. In this landscape, it is no surprise that Washington hesitates, watching how to balance counterterrorism in Somalia with competition with China over bases and ports; that Beijing firmly defends Somalia’s territorial integrity because of its own Taiwan problem; that Moscow flirts with Mogadishu; and that Europe hides behind the formula that it will support whatever African organizations decide. Somaliland, however, is now becoming relevant again. Israeli recognition has turned it into a mirror of a world in which law and borders matter only insofar as they align with the interests of the stronger, and where small but relatively stable societies become important the moment their ports, coastline, and skies enter someone else’s security calculations.
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