By Elena Artibani, Academy Analyst Assistant
Introduction
The recent recognition of Somaliland as a sovereign state by Israel, the first and only country to have done so in 34 years, has reignited international debate, drawing attention not only to a long-standing post-colonial anomaly but to the lived reality of the people of Somaliland. Too often reduced to a geopolitical abstraction, Somaliland is first and foremost a society that has spent more than three decades building stability, democratic institutions, and a shared civic identity despite lacking formal statehood.
This unresolved status is inseparable from the legacy of colonialism. The modern borders of the Horn of Africa, like those of much of the continent, were drawn in European capitals with little understanding of, or regard for, the peoples who inhabited those territories. This externally imposed cartography fractured historical communities, fused incompatible ones, and laid the foundations for conflicts that persist to this day. Africa is not the empty reservoir of resources or the passive geopolitical playground it has been treated as throughout colonial, Cold War, and neo-colonial eras alike. It is a continent of diverse societies, rich histories, and deeply rooted cultural identities that have long been constrained by the political frameworks imposed from outside and by the continued influence of external powers.
In this context, Somaliland’s situation is emblematic of what it means to be an unrepresented state today: functioning governance without recognition, democratic legitimacy without a seat at the table, and a population whose political will is acknowledged at home but ignored internationally. In a region marked by protracted conflict and chronic insecurity, Somaliland stands out not as a legal anomaly but as a community that has demonstrated resilience, coherence, and the capacity to govern, despite an international system still shaped by the colonial legacy that once defined it.
A State That Exists but Is Not Recognized
Somaliland functions in all respects as an independent state. It possesses an elected government, a functioning capital in Hargeisa, secured borders, its own currency, a judicial system, and national security forces. Since the adoption of its constitution in 2001, Somaliland has held regular and competitive multiparty elections and has maintained a level of internal peace and security that stands in sharp contrast to that of neighboring Somalia, to which it remains formally bound under international law.
Yet, for the international community, Somaliland officially “does not exist.” Despite being de facto independent since 1991, it is still considered de jure part of the Federal Republic of Somalia. This legal and political limbo has concrete and far-reaching consequences: Somaliland is excluded from the United Nations, cannot sign international treaties, lacks formal diplomatic recognition, is barred from international financial institutions such as the World Bank, and sees its passports systematically unrecognized.
These institutional barriers translate into direct and tangible hardships for the people of Somaliland. Without international recognition, its people face severe mobility restrictions; businesses cannot access global markets or international financing; diaspora communities struggle with consular protection issues and humanitarian or development assistance often bypasses the region entirely or must be routed through Mogadishu, limiting its effectiveness. Moreover, the absence of recognition undermines long-term economic planning, restricts foreign investment, and leaves Somalilanders without a voice in international forums where decisions affecting their future are made. Despite fulfilling the core criteria of statehood, Somaliland remains an unrepresented state, while its population continues to bear the daily costs of a political limbo they did not choose.
To understand this paradox, it is necessary to return to the colonial and post-colonial foundations of the Somali territories. Prior to independence, the area known today as Somalia was divided into two distinct colonial entities: British Somaliland in the north and Italian Somalia in the south. These territories were administered separately, developed under different governance models, and evolved distinct political and institutional cultures. In 1960, the two entities voluntarily united to form the Somali Republic, a union driven more by pan-Somali nationalism than by institutional convergence or political balance.
During the Cold War, Somalia became a strategic pawn, first aligned with the Soviet Union and later with the United States. This external patronage reinforced a highly centralized and militarized state under the regime of Siad Barre, while simultaneously exacerbating internal inequalities and regional marginalization, particularly in the former British Somaliland. The violent repression of northern clans in the late 1980s, including the bombardment of Hargeisa, irreversibly fractured the union.
In 1991, as the Somali state collapsed entirely, Somaliland seized the opportunity to reassert its independence. Crucially, however, it did so without pursuing territorial expansion or attempting to annex areas beyond its historical boundaries. Instead, it confined its claim strictly to the borders of the former British Somaliland Protectorate, as defined by colonial-era agreements with the United Kingdom.
The resulting contradiction is striking. While Somalia has, since 1991, been engulfed in warlordism, jihadist insurgency led by Al-Shabaab, repeated foreign interventions, famine, and chronic institutional collapse, Somaliland has gradually built relatively robust political institutions and a cohesive sociopolitical order through locally driven, bottom-up processes. It has done so in the absence of international recognition and with minimal external assistance, challenging conventional assumptions about statehood, legitimacy, and post-conflict stability.
Far from representing a destabilizing factor, Somaliland’s trajectory demonstrates how locally anchored governance and peacefully negotiated political arrangements can strengthen regional steadiness rather than undermine it. In this sense, Somaliland’s experience reinforces a broader principle: the dignity and collective will of peoples should carry greater weight than shifting geopolitical interests, especially when communities have shown their capacity to govern themselves responsibly and peacefully.
Geostrategic Position and Regional Relevance
Somaliland is located in the Horn of Africa, overlooking the Gulf of Aden, one of the world’s most strategic maritime corridors, through which approximately 10% of global trade passes. It borders Djibouti to the West, Ethiopia to the South, and Somalia to the East. Roughly the size of England and home to around six million people, Somaliland occupies a territory of considerable geopolitical significance.
Its coastline stretches approximately 850 kilometers. At its center lies Berbera, a strategic port that for centuries served as a hub for caravan trade and commerce with the Arabian Peninsula. Berbera possesses unique infrastructural advantages, including deep waters and an exceptionally long runway constructed during the Cold War.
In recent years, through a series of bold policy decisions by the government in Hargeisa, Berbera has re-emerged as a regional commercial hub. In 2016, Somaliland signed a landmark agreement with DP World, the Dubai-based global port operator, for the management and expansion of the port, despite vehement protests from Somalia. With investments totaling approximately USD 442 million, the port is now capable of accommodating next-generation container vessels and positioning itself as a direct alternative to the nearby port of Djibouti.
Berbera’s strategic value has attracted the attention of Ethiopia, a landlocked country of over 120 million people. In 2018, Addis Ababa acquired a 19% stake in the port, securing direct access to the Red Sea. Simultaneously, construction has advanced on the Berbera–Ethiopia Corridor, a roughly 250-kilometer highway linking the port to the Ethiopian border at Togwajale. This corridor significantly reduces transport time and costs, offering an alternative to Djibouti’s near-monopoly, through which over 90% of Ethiopia’s foreign trade currently flows, often at prohibitive rates.
Another partner of particular significance, both politically and symbolically, is Taiwan. Since 2020, Somaliland and Taiwan have maintained reciprocal representative offices, marking the beginning of a relationship that goes well beyond symbolic or informal engagement. Taiwan has provided concrete and targeted assistance, including firefighting equipment, university scholarships, and biometric voter registration systems, contributing directly to the strengthening of Somaliland’s institutional capacity and democratic processes.
Beyond strategic alignment, what binds Somaliland and Taiwan is a shared lived reality: both are unrepresented or underrepresented entities whose political existence is routinely marginalized by the international system despite possessing functioning democratic structures. Their cooperation, therefore, is not only geopolitical, it is also rooted in a mutual understanding of what it means to sustain democratic institutions, uphold pluralistic values, and safeguard dignity in the absence of formal recognition. This sense of shared experience has created an unusual bond between two geographically distant Peoples who recognize in each other a similar struggle for visibility, legitimacy, and self-determination.
From Taipei’s perspective, Somaliland constitutes a strategically valuable presence in the Horn of Africa, situated in close proximity to Djibouti, where China has established its only overseas military base. Beijing’s strong opposition to this partnership is therefore unsurprising and has translated into explicit diplomatic alignment with Somalia.
More broadly, resistance to Somaliland’s recognition must be understood within a wider geopolitical context. China’s stance is consistent with its longstanding opposition to self-determination movements, as the international recognition of a state emerging from a peaceful and democratic process would set a precedent with potentially far-reaching implications for regions such as Tibet, East Turkestan, Taiwan and Southern Mongolia.
Another key actor firmly opposed to Somaliland’s recognition is Türkiye, whose position is closely tied to its extensive economic, political, and security engagement in Somalia. Through large-scale investments in infrastructure, development assistance, and military cooperation, Ankara has entrenched itself as a central external actor in Somalia’s state-building process. This dominant presence is perhaps most visibly symbolized by the size and prominence of the Turkish embassy in Mogadishu, one of the largest in the Somali capital. In this context, the international recognition of Somaliland would directly undermine years of Turkish-led efforts aimed at consolidating the Somali federal state
Recognition, Responsibility, and the Dignity of Peoples
Unsurprisingly, the most resolute opponent to Somaliland’s recognition remains Somalia itself. Mogadishu continues to reject Somaliland’s claims on the basis of territorial integrity, despite having exercised no effective political, administrative, or security control over Somaliland for more than three decades. This position reflects political necessity rather than legal or governance reality, as the Somali federal government’s authority has never been restored over the territory since 1991.
Historically, processes of self-determination in Africa have often occurred with the consent or formal agreement of the internationally recognized parent state. This was notably the case with Eritrea, whose independence was accepted by Ethiopia following a UN-supervised referendum, as well as South Sudan, which emerged after a negotiated process with Sudan. Both cases unfolded within the Horn of Africa, underscoring that consensual self-determination is neither unprecedented nor inherently destabilizing within the region.
Nevertheless, the African Union has historically expressed deep concern that recognizing Somaliland could encourage other unrepresented peoples and regions to pursue similar claims, potentially triggering widespread political instability, secessionist movements, and even civil wars. This fear has contributed significantly to the organization’s continued reluctance to engage seriously with Somaliland’s case.
Yet such concerns risk overlooking a more structural reality: the enduring instability of the African continent is, in many respects, rooted in the colonial partition itself. Borders were drawn arbitrarily, often with a ruler on a map, by Western powers with little regard for historical, cultural, or social realities on the ground. Entire peoples were forcibly subsumed into political entities in which they lacked representation, autonomy, or agency. This legacy, compounded by persistent external interference and resource exploitation by international powers, continues to undermine political legitimacy and social cohesion across the continent.
From this perspective, self-determination should not be viewed as a threat to African stability, but rather as a potential pathway toward it, particularly when pursued through peaceful, democratic, and institutionally grounded processes such as that of Somaliland. Nonetheless, Somaliland itself has been drawn into the logic of global geopolitics, largely due to its strategic location along one of the world’s most critical maritime corridors. Its position at the crossroads of international trade and security has transformed it into an object of competing external interests, once again demonstrating how African political realities are frequently shaped not only by internal dynamics, but by the strategic calculations of global powers.
The situation of Somaliland also invites a broader reflection on what UNPO has long described as a frozen conflict: a political reality deliberately suspended in ambiguity, neither resolved nor allowed to evolve, precisely because addressing it would require confronting the unresolved legacy of colonialism. The modern map of Africa was not shaped by its peoples, but by European heads of state seated thousands of kilometers away, men who had never walked in the continent, never spoken with its communities, never understood its histories, yet drew borders with rulers and ink as if carving abstract shapes on an empty canvas. These borders, imposed without regard for cultural, linguistic or historical continuities, forced diverse peoples into artificial state structures while splitting others across multiple jurisdictions, planting seeds of conflict that would long outlive the empires that created them.
Africa continues to carry the burden of this historical legacy: a continent extraordinarily rich in civilizations, cultures and political traditions, yet persistently constrained by the actions of external powers who have long viewed it less as a community of peoples and more as a strategic landscape to be extracted, shaped or controlled. During classical colonialism, this logic was explicit, European empires openly divided territories to expand their dominion. The Cold War merely reframed the same dynamic, transforming Africa into a vast chessboard on which Washington and Moscow competed for ideological and strategic leverage, backing coups, proxy wars, and authoritarian regimes while presenting these actions as global security imperatives.
Today, the pattern has not disappeared; it has only changed vocabulary. What was once called imperialism is now described in technocratic terms such as areas of influence, security partnerships, or strategic corridors. Global and regional powers, old and new, continue to pursue military bases, resource access, maritime control, and political alignment, often sidelining the aspirations, agency and dignity of African peoples themselves. The actors have changed, the justifications have evolved, but the underlying logic remains disturbingly familiar: Africa is still treated as a space to be managed by others rather than a continent of sovereign nations and diverse communities entitled to shape their own futures.
And yet, within this long-standing pattern of external domination and geopolitical instrumentalization, Somaliland stands out as an exception, an example of a people who have managed to carve out a political trajectory beyond the frameworks imposed first by European colonial powers and later by global and regional actors. Despite lacking international recognition, despite receiving minimal international assistance, despite being excluded from global decision-making structures, the people of Somaliland have built stability, democratic institutions, and internal cohesion where many predicted only disorder. Their experience challenges one of the most persistent assumptions of the international system: that geopolitics must always prevail over people. If anything, Somaliland demonstrates that, for once, the international community should acknowledge a reality that has been shaped not by external interests, but by the resilience, determination, and democratic commitment of a people who have succeeded in governing themselves with dignity.
In this spirit, UNPO continues to stand with unrepresented peoples and nations worldwide in their peaceful pursuit of dignity, rights, and meaningful participation in international affairs. Within this broader mandate, the case of Somaliland holds particular significance: its recent recognition has brought renewed visibility to a political reality shaped not by geopolitical maneuvering, but by the sustained will, resilience, and democratic commitment of its people.