IS IT DEMOCRACY OR HYPOCRISY? By Mohamed Ahmed Abdi Ba’alul (waddi 12@gmail.com)

IS IT DEMOCRACY OR HYPOCRISY?

                             By Mohamed Ahmed Abdi Ba’alul (waddi 12@gmail.com)

Mohamed Ahmed Abdi Ba'alul. 

In democratic politics, political parties are meant to serve as the primary gateway for citizens who seek meaningful participation in public affairs. Political participation should never be treated as a personal gift from Ahmed Mohamed Mohamoud Silanyo, Faisal Ali Warabe, or any other powerful party owner whose name may be mentioned. It is a fundamental constitutional right that belongs equally to every ordinary citizen, not a selective privilege granted by self-serving political elites.

Yet, our present political reality tells a deeply troubling story. We continue to wander through the same exhausting political maze that we experienced when the UDUB Party dissolved into political irrelevance, or when fragments of the UCID Party desperately searched for new identities to pursue their ambitions. Despite these repeated institutional failures, society appears strangely willing to accept a political system that constantly contradicts the true spirit of our Constitution. As a result, the right to political participation has become little more than an empty phrase written in formal legal texts, while real political access remains confined to private rooms of influence—whether in Silanyo’s kitchen or in Faisal Ali Warabe’s guarded briefcase.

This is a country where it is no surprise for political parties to reflect the narrow interests of particular clans rather than the collective interests of the nation. Fragile coalitions are often formed not to serve citizens equally, but to secure political power and distribute its exclusive benefits among a privileged few. It is a place where the camera is deliberately held the wrong way just to make the image appear straight. If this sounds strange, it is because politics here often functions in reverse: selfish individuals, opportunistic leaders, and exploitative interests dominate the destiny of the silent majority under the false banner of clan loyalty and national statehood. Somaliland has become a place where people possess the formal right to vote, but not the genuine freedom of choice, and where political systems exist primarily to protect a comfortable and untouchable elite.

I live in a country where citizenship is too often reduced to primitive clanship, where individuals are judged less by personal responsibility and more by the protective shield of traditional guardianship. People are born into identities they did not choose and are expected to live as silent shadows of inherited loyalties rather than as free and independent citizens. The dark and heavy shape of ignorance looms over everyone like a permanent cloud. Society itself is drowning in a deep ocean of tribal illusion, while individuals struggle helplessly against powerful waves and dangerous currents that threaten to carry them toward an uncertain and unknown destination.

Those who argue that clan institutions are the solid foundation of Somaliland politics often hijack political discourse for narrow personal gain. It is true that clan structures once played an important and necessary role in rebuilding society after the painful collapse of state institutions. In the difficult post-war period, clans were the only remaining social structures capable of representing people and restoring basic order. However, they were meant to serve as a temporary bridge toward modern statehood, not the final destination of our national political journey.

Today, clans provide an easy and comfortable path for political opportunists who lack both the courage and the intellectual capacity for genuine political dialogue. Instead of building broad national visions capable of inspiring all citizens, many politicians retreat into shallow clan activism, speaking only to their immediate communities. Blood relations have become powerful political strategies for those who cannot develop persuasive ideas, strong public trust, or credible leadership that appeals to the full and diverse spectrum of Somaliland’s citizenship.

Recent events also show that our traditional, consensus-based methods of conflict resolution are becoming increasingly weak and ineffective. At the same time, the Constitutional Court is frequently used as an alternative forum for resolving deeply political disputes that are not truly legal in nature. Parliamentary conflicts have escalated to embarrassing and shameful levels, even reaching the point where the Speaker and his deputy physically fought before public cameras. Such disgraceful scenes reveal not democratic maturity, but dangerous institutional weakness and repeated political failure.

People are exhausted from dragging along a tired democracy that promises little beyond repetitive, fruitless, and outdated elections. A democracy that excludes the urgent social and economic concerns affecting ordinary citizens cannot honestly be called democracy. When political systems ignore justice, equality, dignity, and meaningful representation, democracy becomes nothing more than a polished hypocrisy disguised as national progress.

Mohamed Ahmed Abdi Ba’alul

Waddi12@gmail.com