Due to the absence of a functioning government, a counterinsurgency in a failed state can be a difficult enterprise. Since Somalia’s state collapse in 1991, various actors have been combating the threat of Al-Shabaab with mixed results.

Counterinsurgency measures, as the name suggests, are meant to suppress an insurgency and in the long run create an enabling political environment for the establishment of a functional state capable of ensuring sustainable security. These goals are, however, difficult to achieve under conditions of state collapse given the virtual absence of a functional government. As a collapsed state that has had no functional government since the end of Siad Barre’s rule in 1991, Somalia represents an interesting case.

Since 1991, many of Somalia’s counterinsurgency operations launched have been driven by concerns regarding the impact of Somalia’s conflict on regional security and the desire to create a functional state capable of providing basic human and physical security to its citizens. Given that Somalia is a collapsed state, the initiative of adopting and effecting counterinsurgency measures in the country has been externally driven by regional and international organisations such as the African Union (AU) and the United Nations (UN), as well as Western countries such as the United States (US) rather than by the Federal Government of Somalia (FGS).

This article focuses on the military component of the peace enforcement African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM), which has positioned itself as a counterinsurgency force against the armed insurgency group Harakat Al-Shabaab Al Mujaheddin group, commonly known as Al-Shabaab.

Somalia’s insurgency and counterinsurgency

Image of AMISON troop via UN Photo/Flickr.

The nature of insurgency and counterinsurgency in Somalia is complex as it involves a variety of non-state, state and international actors. The militant Islamist group Al-Shabaab, the most significant armed non state actor, describes and perceives itself as an insurgent movement but is labelled and depicted by the FGS and external actors as a terrorist group as they see it as a transnational violent armed non-state actor. The conceptualisation and labelling of Al-Shabaab both simultaneously as an insurgent and terrorist group only complicates counterinsurgency operations in the country. This is so, in that it is not effective enough to conduct counterinsurgency as counterterrorism to suppress a group that perceives itself and thereby conducts its operations as an insurgent rather than a terrorist one.

The combination of state collapse with the complexity and paradoxical nature of insurgency and counterinsurgency operations in Somalia has adversely affected human and physical security in the country and has provided Al-Shabaab with new political opportunities to sustain violent action. The AMISOM’s strategic concept of operations (CONOPS) and rules of engagement (ROE) indicate that its short-term repressive security measures are better clarified as counterterrorism rather than counterinsurgency, as they appear to focus on both simultaneously national and transnational terrorist activities, rather than efforts to defeat the insurgency in Somalia and ultimately create a functional state.

The AMISON’s CONOPS combine all ongoing separate military operations in Somalia into a coordinated and coherent effort against Al-Shabaab so as to extend the authority of the FGS country-wide. It also aims at creating an enabling environment for the effective implementation of AMISOM’s mandate. AMISOM’s CONOPS have, however, been adversely hindered by the mission’s lack of adequate financial, human and military resources, thereby rendering it ineffective in its mandated operations. AMISOM’s ROE are key to ensuring that military operations are conducted in compliance with international humanitarian law obligations in Somalia’s socio-political context.

Though the ROE are in conformity with the operational realities of the mission, AMISOM continues to operate in extremely volatile conditions created by state collapse, whereby Al-Shabaab’s asymmetrical warfare targets civilians within populated areas. This situation makes it extremely difficult for AMISOM to ensure civilian protection in the conduct of its operations and to consistently apply the mission’s ROE Counterinsurgency operations that cannot consistently sustain themselves for long periods are ineffective and will not achieve the intended outcome of enhancing sustainable security.

A success or failure?

The successes or failures of insurgency and counterinsurgency operations in Somalia depend on population support.  So far, the counterinsurgency strategies in Somalia conducted by AMISOM and its coalition forces, especially the Somali National Army, have been unable to gain the support of the people. Al-Shabaab’s led insurgency has gained popular support among the local-level communities, largely due to the social services and more importantly the local-level security governance it provides, in the absence of a functional state. All these strategies of Al-Shabaab, which are aimed at legitimising itself, are implemented through variants of Islamism. The movement was very effective in the provision of alternative governance structures at the local-level prior to the pre-2010 military intervention of AMISOM. The literature on counterinsurgency operations in Somalia indicates that the security vacuum created by Al-Shabaab’s departure as a result of AMISOM’s operations in these areas has led to an increase in the levels of insecurity thereby questioning the legitimacy of the latter’s operations.

The Somali populace also perceives these counterinsurgency efforts as externally driven and extremely hesitant to engage, positively, with the fundamental Somali socio-political structures such as the clan structure and Islam. In order to be effective counterinsurgency measures, should take into account the legitimacy of these socio-political structures that play a significant role in local-level peacebuilding and governance processes.

Doomed from the start?

Counterinsurgency operations in Somalia have also been adversely affected by poor planning and their inability, so far, to create an enabling environment which enhances state capacity. Any credible counterinsurgency operation with a military component requires careful planning before any military incursion begins. A number of indicators suggest that, in the early stages, AMISOM neither planned nor implemented an effective counterinsurgency strategy. The initial objective of Kenya’s military incursion into Somalia through Operation Linda Nchi and subsequent incorporation into AMISOM was not peace enforcement countering the direct physical threats posed by Al-Shabaab on its territory.

Counterinsurgency measures were later driven by socio-political and economic interests rather than peacebuilding in Somalia. Kenya’s military intervention in Somalia can be perceived as counterterrorism rather than counterinsurgency efforts given that they were initially driven by short-term strategic interests.  The establishment of a functional state has so far not been achieved in Somalia as it has been has been compromised by the manner in which regional and international peacekeeping efforts, have been conducted in the country. Most of these, if not all have been characterised by failures rather than successes. For example, the UN Monitoring Group on Somalia constantly accuses the Kenya Defence Forces component of violating AMISOM’s mandate. AMISOM has not been effectively taking the appropriate measures aimed at supporting the creation of a functionally effective state due to the strategic interests of its member states. This has compromised peacebuilding and security governance in the country.

The resilience of Al-Shabaab as a transnational violent non-state armed actor, is partly a function of ineffective repressive counterinsurgency measures in Somalia. The repressive counterinsurgency operations conducted largely by external actors in the country are reactive, achieve unintended consequences ande hence counterproductive. A political strategy supported by security operations in the formulation and implementation of counterinsurgency operations is still ideal for any country facing an insurgency.

Counterinsurgency measures, however, that do not require repressive security operations that focus on causes not symptoms are best suited for Somalia in the medium and long-term.  Since Somalia does not have a functional government capable of providing effective counterinsurgency operations let alone human and physical security, non-repressive measures would best be conducted by non-state actors such clan leaders and clans, and Islamic civil society organisations.

Non-state actors are appropriate in the implementation of non-repressive counterinsurgency measures in that they not only located within fundamental Somali socio-political structures, but also have the capacity to use informal process oriented means rather than formal goal-oriented ones. Informal process-oriented methods are more appropriate when it comes to addressing the root causes of the insurgency while formal goal-oriented ones are reactive focussing on symptoms. These measures, such as those that focus on countering violent extremism, take into account fundamental Somali socio-political structures, and their corresponding customs norms and traditions thereby gaining population support and subsequently legitimacy. Such counterinsurgency measures will achieve their intended outcome of dealing with insurgency, the grievances of that insurgency and ultimately create the socio-political environment required to establish a functional state.

Oscar Gakuo Mwangi (PhD) is an Associate Professor at the Department of Political & Administrative Studies National University of Lesotho.

When does a serious environmental problem become a security threat?

Professor Tim Flannery, a leading scientist and public intellectual in Australia wrote a piece in the Guardian newspaper a few days ago reflecting on the links between climate change and the extreme temperatures and bushfires ravaging Australia at present. He notes that “Australians are used to hot summers. We normally love them. But the conditions prevailing now are something new. Temperature records are being broken everywhere.” What is important for thinking about the security consequences of climate change is that towards the end of the article, Flannery reflects:

“Australia’s average temperature has increased by just 0.9 of a degree celsius over the past century. Within the next 90 years we’re on track to warm by at least another three degrees. Having seen what 0.9 of a degree has done to heatwaves and fire extremes, I dread to think about the kind of country my grandchildren will live in. Even our best agricultural land will be under threat if that future is realised. And large parts of the continent will be uninhabitable, not just by humans, but by Australia’s spectacular biodiversity as well.”

Conditions in which large parts of the continent are threatened in such a way would appear to raise some pretty serious questions about Australia’s national security (let alone the human security of those individuals living in areas where agriculture has failed or fires threaten homes and livelihoods). Yet recently a number of commentators have become particularly concerned about the so-called ‘securitisation’ of climate change, largely due to a sense of there being “alarmist views about climate change on conflict risk.” This has led some to argue that rather than helping to raise the profile of the issue in terms of the need for urgent policy change, we in fact now need to “disconnect security and climate change.” According to Professor Betsy Hartmann of Hampshire College, “A fear of imminent doom runs deep in popular culture and, like the grim reaper, stalks the environmental movement.” This, she argues allows “security agencies and analysts” to distract us from feelings of empathy towards those affected by climate change and to instead cause us to fear them and to “turn to the military to protect us.” According to Professor Mike Hulme of the University of East Anglia,

“What climate change means to us and means to the world is conditioned by what we do, by the way we govern, by the stories we tell. Presenting climate change as the ultimate security crisis is crudely deterministic, detached from the complexities of our world, and invites new and dangerous forms of military intervention.”

All of this matters as the potential world in which Flannery is imagining that his grandchildren might have to live in is becoming more and more likely the longer multilateral efforts drag on. Richard Haass, the President of the Council on Foreign Relations, when asked to look ahead to the big global governance challengers for 2013 recently stated that: “It is becoming increasingly clear that efforts at mitigation are not just falling short but that the gap between what is needed and what is likely to happen is widening.”

The whole notion of the ‘securitisation’ of climate change pre-supposes that we get to choose whether climate change is a security threat or not – it emphasises what political scientists refer to as human agency. Of course we can choose to label something as a threat or not (yes, perhaps it may even not be the end of the world if we use the dreaded T word!). But in the face of increasingly extreme weather and related natural disasters (let alone serious discussions about whether states such as Kiribati can survive within their own national borders), it does seem that we can sensibly talk about the security threats posed by climate change in the decades to come regardless of whether we can specifically link particular instances of conflict and climate change in the past.

The point is that simply because something may pose a security threat does not mean that we have to respond in the traditional way – to throw military force at it. It’s abundantly clear that there is no military solution to climate change and that addressing the problem at source means changing (among other things) the ways we use energy. But that doesn’t mean that our current energy policies are not a fundamental security threat. They are. And why can’t we use better energy policies to ensure our security?

Ben Zala is a Lecturer in International Politics at the University of Leicester.

Very few insurgencies are stopped using military force alone. Data from the RAND Corporation suggests that only 7% of terrorist campaigns end through military defeat. And yet many in Nigeria still pin their hopes on a swift military victory against Boko Haram, the Islamist insurgency that has been plaguing the country since 2009. Since the Chibok abduction in April, the world has woken up to the group’s increasingly bold and dangerous tactics – and also to the Nigerian government’s failure to turn the tide.

Lake Chad as seen from Apollo 7 in 1968. The lake’s drying basin is the crucible of Boko Haram’s insurgency in Nigeria, Niger, Cameroon and Chad. (Source: Wikimedia)

Realistically, Nigeria is not in a position to inflict a military defeat on Boko Haram. Like most insurgencies, Boko Haram avoids concentrating its forces. It prefers to skirmish and build its presence in lots of places at once. The security forces must therefore spread wide to protect the population and root out insurgents village-by-village. According to the orthodox counter-insurgency formula of 20 soldiers and police to every 1000 people, 200,000 soldiers and police would be required in north-east Nigeria.  This is about five times the current deployment level.

It also assumes that such forces would be adequately equipped and trained and motivated to protect the civilian population. Even the troops that are deployed in the north-east are given little ammunition, and their weapons routinely malfunction. The air force, which gives Nigeria its one clear military advantage, has been struck by multiple equipment failures and crashes in recent months. And the strategy is also to blame. There has been too much focus on a military-only approach and not enough attention paid to the underlying drivers of the conflict.

Yet Nigerian politicians and generals still line up to claim imminent victory, usually giving three month’s notice for Boko Haram’s projected downfall. Time after time the deadlines pass and Boko Haram is anything but defeated. In fact, the insurgency has never been stronger. Since July, Boko Haram has shifted from hit-and-run tactics to the capture and control of swathes of territory and even large towns across three states: Borno, Adamawa and Yobe.

The obvious alternative to a military solution – a negotiated political settlement – is admittedly unpalatable. After the appalling war crimes committed by Boko Haram over the last five years, it is hard to contemplate offering them a share of power and, most likely, an amnesty. Yet if it wants to stop the violence, the government has little choice. Indeed it has shown itself willing to enter into negotiations, as the failed attempt to broker a truce through Chadian president Idriss Déby in October showed. But is such a deal even possible?

Obstacles to a deal

There is much that stands in the way of a deal with Boko Haram. Probably the most immediate obstacle is the insurgency’s own success. Why would Boko Haram want to do a deal when it is achieving its aims already? To force Boko Haram to the negotiating table, the military may have to retake some of the captured territory to create the impression that the momentum is with the army.

Abubakar Shekau, leader of Boko Haram in a still from an October 2014 Boko Haram video communique. (Source: VOA, via Wikipedia)

The second obstacle is even greater. Over the past five years, Boko Haram has become increasingly extreme and violent. It has transitioned from a menacing but peaceful movement focused on preaching, to an insurgency focused on attacking government targets, and now to a group willing to indiscriminately kill civilians.

The insurgency’s growing extremism is a major driving force behind its violence. As Boko Haram’s leader, Abubakar Shekau, said in a recent video, “our religion and our way of worship is nothing but killings, killings and killings”. Indeed, as Ahmad Salkida, a Nigerian journalist with rare access to Boko Haram, has said, “the fuse that drives Boko Haram’s terror is the sect’s doctrine”. Their religious ideology, a form of Salafi Jihadism, focuses on purging Islam of corrupting influences and returning to the ‘pure’ Islamic practices of the distant past. Over the years, Shekau has purged Boko Haram of more moderate commanders, leading to an increasingly fanatical take on what methods are acceptable to purge Muslim society of impure elements and what constitutes an impure element. Violence has become the method of choice, and the targets include children.

It is hard to see how this extremism and violence can be accommodated in a negotiated settlement. Is it even possible to have a meaningful dialogue with a group that seems to have gone beyond any kind of rational political or socio-economic programme?

What does Boko Haram want?

Yet there are discernable grievances underlying the conflict in northern Nigeria. Even if Shekau is only interested in purgative violence, many of the group’s followers and fighters are likely to have more tangible motivations and aims. They are also rumoured to be growing increasingly tired of life in the bush, so it’s possible a deal could be done if a strong enough offer were made.

A core driver of the insurgency is an escalating cycle of grievance and revenge. Boko Haram first became violent after security forces attacked its members who were participating in a funeral procession in Maiduguri in 2009. After a series of skirmishes, its founding leader Mohammed Yusuf was arrested, detained, and summarily executed. Since then, numerous suspected Boko Haram supporters have also been murdered. On March 14 of this year, the military was accused of summarily executing 600 prisoners in response to a Boko Haram attack. The families of suspected Boko Haram members have also been targeted. Many women and children who are related to militants are believed to be in detention, including the family of Shekau, and there are rumours that female family members have been raped.

Central to any deal must be accountability and compensation for these excesses, as politically difficult as that may be. Many imprisoned Boko Haram supporters and relatives will also have to be released.

There are also political and socio-economic factors feeding into the conflict. North-east Nigeria is one of the most impoverished places in the world, with three-quarters of the population living below the poverty line. People there feel politically as well as economically marginalised, as northerners have been increasingly locked out of power in recent years. President Goodluck Jonathan, a southern Christian, has broken an unwritten rule by running again for the presidency in 2015. Convention on rotation of power dictates that a northern Muslim candidate should be put forward by the ruling party.

Corruption and poor governance in the region have also played a role in promoting alienation from Nigeria’s institutions and fostering an environment ripe for insurgency. The government would do well to include measures aimed at boosting development, improving governance, and ending the region’s political marginalisation in any deal.

An amnesty from prosecution and jobs for former insurgents must be the final element of a deal. It is unlikely insurgent leaders and fighters will come out of the bush if they believe they will be prosecuted, and jobs will be vital for re-integrating them into society. Again, this would depend on massive federal and/or private investment in the northeast, what some have called a ‘Marshall Plan’ for the northeast.

There have been signs that the Nigerian government is willing to engage with these questions. The “soft” counter-terrorism strategy unveiled by Nigeria’s National Security Adviser in March included an emphasis on tackling under-development and other underlying drivers of the conflict. Its commitment to address social injustice, joblessness, and poverty may well be attractive to Boko Haram members who have joined the insurgency for those reasons. However, the international storm following the Chibok abduction, Boko Haram’s territorial gains, and the national elections due in February 2015 seem to have dragged momentum away from these measures.

Talking to Shekau

One of the major challenges of doing a deal with Boko Haram is finding a way of talking to Shekau. Since the Chibok abduction, all sorts of people have reportedly come forward claiming to be intermediaries representing the insurgents. Many of them, if not all of them, are bogus – including the one who did the supposed deal with Idriss Déby.

The government has to find the right interlocutor. One possible option is to go through Ahmad Salkida, and the government did reportedly bring him in to discuss the Chibok abduction. He is one of very few people with a credible connection to the insurgents who may be able to advise on how to reach out to them.

Whatever the case, and as Salkida has said himself, it will be difficult to achieve any kind of peace deal until the army is able to stem the tide of Boko Haram’s advances. The first step must be to summon the political will and train, motivate and deploy the resources necessary to adequately protect the civilian population in north-east Nigeria.

Andrew Noakes is Coordinator of the Nigeria Security Network. He is on Twitter at @andrew_noakes 

Image: Lake Chad as seen from Apollo 7 in 1968. Source: Wikimedia.