Opinion – Mogadishu Needs a Calm Dialogue on Its Status and Role

Mogadishu has served as the capital of the Somali people for centuries — a distinction earned through its unique location on the Somali Peninsula, today known as the Horn of Africa.

The city has preserved this role through the ages — from the era of kingdoms and sultanates, through colonial rule under the Italians and British, across independence, and into the present day.

For the first time, however, Mogadishu’s status as Somalia’s capital came under question during the drafting of the provisional constitution over the past two decades — either out of ill intent or due to clan-driven rivalries. Some politicians and federal entities seized upon this debate as an excuse to challenge Mogadishu’s legitimacy to remain the capital within the new federal system.

Extremists among them went as far as to claim that Mogadishu was unfit to serve as the national capital because, according to them, it was “inhabited by a single clan.” Others countered with equally rigid views, arguing that the residents of Mogadishu should be granted the right to form their own federal state, like all the others.

Yet some of these counterarguments were no less extreme than the first. They insisted that the majority clan of the city alone should represent Mogadishu politically, while the rest — though free to live and work there — should have no say in its governance.

A few even argue that Mogadishu’s dominant clan benefited disproportionately during the years of statelessness, and that the city prospered because of them. In their private conversations — if not publicly — they seem to believe that since other cities have failed to keep pace with Mogadishu, the solution is to weaken it, to drag it down, so that it no longer maintains its historic political, financial, or urban weight.

At its core, this reasoning reflects a tragic cultural flaw — envy. And this envy in Somali society is not confined to individuals; it extends to clans, politics, and social groups. Too often, when success does not include us, our instinct is to destroy it, so that “we may all be equal in failure.”

An old Somali parable captures this perfectly: two rival clans fell in battle — some went to heaven, others to hell. Those who reached heaven protested, saying, “It’s not fair that our rivals from the other clan should have hell all to themselves! We want our share too!” And so, by their own choice, they descended into hell.

Beyond such dark humour lies a bitter truth: this culture of envy poisons many aspects of Somali life. It can drive individuals — or entire groups — to harm themselves merely to spite their rivals. Like the tale of two starving men who fought over a piece of meat during a famine. Neither would agree to share, until a hungry wolf appeared. One of the men, out of spite, threw the meat to the wolf, which devoured it. Both men then starved to death — and the wolf returned to eat them as well.

Returning to Mogadishu: everyone acknowledges that it is a city of deep historical, cultural, and spiritual significance — not merely a cluster of buildings and people. It is the only Somali city that, for centuries, has been home to all Somali clans, both native and migrant.

For this reason, the debate about Mogadishu’s status must be guided by calm and reason. Almost everything that once united Somalis politically has been eroded by endless rivalries. Only two symbols still bind us together — the blue flag and the city of Mogadishu. If we begin to fight over either of them, if anyone claims them as theirs alone, the very idea of Somalia will be imperiled.