Issue 382
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The
republic of Somaliland hopes to become Africa's newest state, wooing
international support with state-of-the-art elections. But it faces the
corruption, injustice and tensions endemic to the region.
By Edmund Sanders
Reporting from Hargeysa, Somaliland May 15, 2009-- When it came time to
register voters for a presidential election in Somaliland, this
dirt-poor breakaway republic picked the most expensive
fingerprint-identification technology available to prevent fraud.
Then it seemed everyone did their best to undermine it.
With many people using different fingers on a biometric scanning pad or
other ways to fool the device, nearly twice as many as the 700,000 to
800,000 estimated eligible voters received voter cards. Under the new
$8-million system, one polling station registered, astonishingly, nearly
14 times as many people as it had for a parliamentary election four
years ago.
Now Somaliland's embattled election commission, aided by a European
consultant, is scrambling to cull the list of voters by applying a
second security layer, of facial-recognition software. If it works, the
voter rolls in this relatively stable corner of northern Somalia stand
to become among the most technologically vetted in the world.
The voter registration controversy says a lot about the challenges
facing this Horn of Africa territory of 3.5 million people. Somaliland,
after declaring its independence from Somalia in 1991, has hoped
sovereignty would enable it to better protect its citizens, rebuild the
economy and attract foreign assistance.
Just about everything Somaliland does -- from holding elections to
chasing pirates -- seems aimed at currying international favor,
portraying an image of stability and distancing itself from the chaos
raging to its south. It dreams of becoming Africa's newest nation.
"It's the thing always in the back of our minds," said Ahmed Mohamed
Sillanyo, one of Somaliland's founding fathers and a leading opposition
figure. "The only commodity we sell to the international community is
that we are a stable country."
Yet as Somaliland tries to leapfrog from oppressed backwater to regional
role model, it's facing the same ghosts -- corruption, injustice and
ethnic tensions -- that have haunted its neighbors.
The election scheduled for September, which was intended to highlight
Somaliland's democratic progress, is instead exposing institutional
weaknesses and stirring domestic discontent.
Besides the voter-registration debacle, the election date has been twice
postponed at the request of President Dahir Riyale Kahin. His term was
extended over the objection of opposition parties, who now call his
government unconstitutional.
Ethnic rivalry is on the rise as political parties court Somaliland's
major clans, which yield considerable cultural and political clout in
Africa. Many residents are bracing for what is expected to be a very
close race. In 2003, the president was declared the winner by just 80
votes amid allegations of rigging.
Civil-society leaders worry Somaliland could be headed toward the same
kind of election turmoil that rocked Kenya last year after a disputed
presidential vote ignited ethnic violence that left more than 1,000
people dead.
Longtime human rights activist Ibrahim Wais questioned whether
Somaliland's political leaders respected democratic ideals enough to
conduct a free and fair election.
"It's not a conviction with them," he said. "It's a pretense, a
plaything to impress the international community."
President Kahin insisted Somaliland was on the right path to democracy
and dismissed naysayers, noting that there have been three peaceful
national elections since 2001.
"There's no [democratic] backsliding," he said in an interview in the
reception hall of the presidential palace in Hargeysa. "A lot of people
never believed elections could happen smoothly in this country."
But opposition leaders suggest they won't accept defeat as gracefully as
they did in 2003.
"If I lose by the rules, I'll accept," said Sillanyo, the leading
presidential challenger. "If I don't, I'll fight it."
Sillanyo said he wouldn't resort to violence, but others in the
opposition aren't so sure. He and others accuse Kahin of clinging to
power by repeatedly delaying the election. They also say that the
president has hidden lucrative oil-exploration deals from parliament,
arrested opposition leaders and journalists, monopolized state-owned
media and bribed clan leaders and members of the Upper House.
The president denied the allegations. He blamed election delays on the
faulty voter-registration system and last fall's triple suicide bombings
in Hargeysa by Islamic extremists, which killed about two dozen people.
For most of the last decade, Somaliland's governance and human rights
record have drawn praise, particularly compared with those of its
neighbors. Somaliland boasts free speech and private newspapers. Its
population voluntarily disarmed, reconciled and transitioned into an
elected, civilian government.
By contrast, Somalia continues to struggle with no fully functioning
government. Ethiopia has been accused of heavy-handed crackdowns against
its citizens. Eritrea has no elections or free press.
"The government in Somaliland has a better human rights record than any
other government in the Horn, including Kenya," said Chris Albin-Lackey,
an analyst at Human Rights Watch. "But that's setting the bar pretty
low."
British Somaliland, a protectorate of the crown, won independence in
1960 and merged with the Italian colony to its south to form the
Republic of Somalia. Residents soon regretted unity when successive
regimes marginalized, and eventually bombed, the northern areas.
Somaliland rebels helped bring about the collapse of the Siyad Barre
dictatorship in 1991 and promptly declared independence from Somalia.
But the international community, including the United Nations and
African Union, have feared recognition of Somaliland might have a domino
effect by encouraging other disgruntled regions to assert self-rule.
Somaliland's leaders expressed dismay at the world's reluctance to
recognize their progress and warned that they might not be able to hold
the would-be nation together without more outside support.
"If, God forbid, things go haywire, it will be the fault of the
international community," said Foreign Minister Abdillahi Duale. "We've
done everything we are supposed to do."
The pursuit of international recognition has contributed to Somaliland's
relative stability and democratic progress, experts say.
"It makes everyone behave a little better," said Ahmed Hussein Esa, a
political activist in Hargeysa and director of the Institute for
Practical Research and Training.
Government crackdowns are typically short-lived. Opposition groups are
loath to organize mass protests or resort to violence.
The drive for recognition is even fueling Somaliland's aggressive
anti-piracy campaign. Hoping to receive international aid for its
fledgling coast guard, which consists of just three speedboats,
Somaliland has arrested 40 suspected pirates in recent months.
Many Somaliland citizens say they are committed to independence, but
some accuse leaders of using the issue as an excuse to avoid addressing
domestic problems.
Hargeysa is still a capital of mostly dirt roads. Unemployment runs
about 90%. Remittances sent by family members living abroad keep the
economy going.
"For 18 years they've been talking about recognition, recognition,
recognition," said Abdulla Ali Ahmed, 26, a grocery store clerk in
Hargeysa. "We need to develop the economy, improve schools and create
jobs. When we do a better job with that, the rest of the world will
recognize us."
Email: edmund.sanders @latimes.com
Source: Los Angeles Times
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