If Villa Somalia Breaks South West, It May Fracture the Entire Federal System
- A Gallaydh Editorial
- Mar 17
- 6 min read
What is currently unfolding in the city of Baidoa is no longer a mere regional dispute, nor is it simply a personal falling-out between President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud and South West leader Abdiaziz Hassan Mohamed "Laftagareen." It has morphed into one of the clearest stress tests of whether Somalia’s constitutional transition will be built on dialogue and consensus, or enforced through pressure, centralization, and political coercion.
The crisis in South West matters not because Laftagareen is indispensable as an individual, but because the methods deployed to unseat him will determine how Somalia’s federal order is reshaped for years to come.
The Weaponization of ‘Reform’ and the Facade of Democratization
Over the past few months, Villa Somalia has attempted to frame its constitutional and electoral agenda as a national democratic project—a necessary shift from the clan-based power-sharing model (4.5) to direct, one-person-one-vote elections. In principle, this is a defensible ambition; Somalia cannot remain indefinitely trapped in transitional formulas.
However, the problem no longer lies in the language of reform. The problem is how this reform is being executed, who is driving it, and what happens when regional leaders refuse to comply. A constitutional transition loses its democratic legitimacy the moment it devolves into a punitive campaign to discipline or remove dissenting federal member state leaders.
This is exactly why Baidoa is so critical. South West is not just another member state; it is one of the country's most strategically sensitive political arenas. It is electorally significant, militarily exposed, and historically vulnerable to interference from both Mogadishu and foreign actors. If the federal government forcibly imposes its political framework here while ignoring regional objections, the true meaning of Somali federalism will fundamentally change in practice. Member states will exist only in name, while the central government establishes a precedent that regional political futures can be overridden whenever they conflict with Mogadishu's interests.
The Irony of a Shattered Alliance
The historical weight of this rupture is partly rooted in its profound irony. Laftagareen was not a natural adversary of Hassan Sheikh. On the contrary, he was one of the president's closest state-level allies. For years, South West was not lumped into the same category as Puntland or Jubbaland, both of which have openly and repeatedly clashed with Mogadishu over constitutional powers and elections.
The relationship between Hassan Sheikh and Laftagareen was built on mutual convenience. Villa Somalia used South West as proof that its federal project still enjoyed regional backing, while Laftagareen secured political cover and federal protection during a period when his own mandate was highly contested. But transactional alliances only survive as long as interests align. When Laftagareen withdrew his support for the constitutional amendment campaign and the planned local council elections, the relationship ceased to be mutually beneficial and instantly became a direct threat.
Following Puntland and Jubbaland: A Spreading Political Contagion
If Baidoa holds its ground and insists on holding its own regional election, South West will officially join the growing pattern of regional resistance already established by Puntland and Jubbaland.
The precedent set elsewhere should have served as a stark warning to the central government. Puntland withdrew its recognition of the federal government following disputed constitutional changes in March 2024, explicitly arguing that the amendments concentrated excessive power in Mogadishu. Jubbaland recently severed ties with the federal administration over its own electoral dispute—a confrontation that escalated from rhetoric into armed clashes between federal and regional forces.
These were not isolated local squabbles. They were glaring symptoms of a massive breakdown in trust between the center and key federal member states. If South West now joins this list, it becomes increasingly difficult to argue that the problem stems solely from "stubborn regional leaders." When a situation repeats itself uniformly, it ceases to be an anomaly and becomes a diagnosis.
Armed Clashes, Information Warfare, and the Grounded Flight
What makes the South West crisis particularly volatile is that the dispute is not playing out in abstract constitutional seminars, but through actual armed conflict. Reports over the past few days have confirmed that clashes between forces loyal to Laftagareen and opposition militias have left dozens dead, with opposition forces regrouping outside the city limits.
The reported attempt to block Laftagareen from returning to Baidoa—followed by his defiant arrival on a private plane—fits perfectly into this framework. Even if some details are difficult to independently verify, the underlying message carries massive weight. In Somalia, a struggle over who can travel, who controls an airport, or who can safely re-enter a capital is never merely a logistical issue. It is political messaging in its rawest form. If the central government attempted to block his return, it signals that the conflict has escalated from negotiation to containment. If he returned by resisting that pressure, it proves that Baidoa is not yet politically captured.
The Constitutional Mirror: "Democratization" or "Centralization"?
A profound constitutional hypocrisy is at play. Villa Somalia presents direct elections and constitutional reform as tools for national modernization, yet the methods used to advance these goals often revive the old Somali habit of utilizing legal frameworks to mask political subjugation.
The question is not whether one-person-one-vote elections are desirable in the long term; they absolutely are. The real question is whether direct elections introduced without broad consensus, amid fierce regional resistance, and within a vacuum of institutional trust, can actually deepen government legitimacy. Somalia’s recent history suggests the exact opposite. Reforms pushed through without consensus do not look like democratic progress; they look like partisan weapons deployed in a power struggle. That is why regional elites do not hear "democratization" when Mogadishu speaks. They hear "centralization."
The constitutional amendments of March 2026 have only amplified this anxiety. Parliament approved changes that critics argue could delay the election timeline and potentially extend the current political order. South West is not resisting a constitutional theory; it is resisting the practical consequences of a constitutional process it fundamentally distrusts.
The Djibouti Summit and Foreign Pressure
The recent meeting in Djibouti between Hassan Sheikh, Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed, and Djiboutian President Ismail Omar Guelleh has introduced a new layer of anxiety to the South West standoff.
While it remains unconfirmed whether the leaders formally discussed withdrawing support for Laftagareen, the political sensitivity of the summit is glaring. Ethiopia remains the most influential external military and political actor in and around South West. When a dispute between the federal government and a member state intersects with Horn of Africa regional diplomacy, it transforms into a highly volatile strategic pressure point.
Conclusion: The Future of Federalism Faces a Severe Test
This crisis should alarm even those who do not support Laftagareen. One does not need to romanticize his leadership to see the inherent danger. His rise to power in 2018 was itself the product of one of the most controversial federal interventions in a regional election. However, federalism cannot survive if it only exists to protect leaders favored by Mogadishu.
It must also survive when the central government is frustrated, when alliances collapse, and when a regional president refuses to bow to the center's demands. If regional autonomy only exists when cooperating with Mogadishu, then it is not true autonomy. It is merely delegated power that can be revoked at will.
What is on the table, then? It is not just the fate of one regional president. It is the political doctrine emerging from Villa Somalia. Is the Hassan Sheikh administration building a federal relationship where disputes are resolved through negotiation, patience, and legal mutual respect? Or is it building a system where constitutional changes are dictated from the top down, and resistance is met with pressure, isolation, and attempts to replace the dissenter?
Somalia is now approaching a critical threshold. If Baidoa is managed through coercive pressure, the mobilization of clan militias, and the installation of a replacement loyal to Villa Somalia, the message sent to every other federal member state will be unmistakable: constitutional reform is not a shared national project, but a mechanism for consolidating power.
Such a move will not stabilize Somalia. It will deepen mistrust, accelerate the formation of anti-federal coalitions, and leave Puntland and Jubbaland feeling entirely vindicated in their defiance. If that core pillar is broken, the fracture in South West will not be contained to Baidoa—it will shake the entire architectural foundation of the Somali state.
