"An Overview of the Plight of Somalia’s Minority Communities." Mustafa Awad
Despite being a predominantly homogenous society, lineage – and the oft-flawed social status it inevitably engenders – is a complicated facet of life in Somalia. Minority communities are essentially defined based on the fact that they fall outside the major Somali genealogical tree/table which generally encompasses 4 major lines, e.g. Irir, Dir, Darood and Rahanwayn. In essence, it is these four major clans that are considered ‘dominant’. In turn, all the clans and sub-clans which fall outside of this tree/table, and also strangely enough a number of sub-lineages within, are defined as ‘minority’—a label that generally results in lower social, economic and political status on the part of those considered ‘minority’.
Segregation and exclusion occur on two levels:
- The first concerns the ‘distinct ethnic minorities’, e.g. Bantu, Bajuni and Bravanese, whose physical appearance is manifestly different from that of the wider, ‘dominant’ clans. It is based on these differences that Somalis believe to not share history and lineage with these communities and thus consider them non-native and inferior. But, the fact that these minority groups are lumped together as the so-called ‘distinct ethnic minorities’ does not necessarily mean they are socially treated the same. For instance, while the Bravanese endure the same fate in a number of ways, e.g. political marginalisation, they are socio-economically much better regarded. In contrast, the Bantus and Bajuni are both socially-excluded and politically marginalised despite combining to make up a significant portion of Somalia’s south-central population.
- Lower-caste clans, i.e. Tumal, Yibir, and Gaboye, make up the second category of socially-excluded minority group who, despite by and large exhibiting little difference in terms of physical appearance in relation to the wider population, are still heavily discriminated against. There are a number of speculations as to why they have been casted out. The most common is a legend that recounts how their forefather once ate the corpse of a deceased animal, which is a widely-held social taboo among Somalis who do not consume meat unless slaughtered according to Islamic tradition. While plausible, this premise is, in my opinion anyway, also improbable or possibly conflated with a different event/trend that may have transpired all those years ago.
Back in the mid-2000s, I worked for a couple British NGOs and spent a great deal of time in the rural areas of Puntland and Somaliland where, in addition to my regular job, I carried out my own marginal research purely out of curiosity and interest. This is neither exhaustive nor scholarly by any stretch of the imagination, but my conclusion based on my conversations with many elderly men is that these communities were once themselves the dominant social groups and, thus, did not embrace Islam as quickly and/or wholeheartedly as the rest of the clans. In fact, the Yibir are said to have been descendants of a clan that practiced Judaism and there is speculation even that the word ‘Yibir’ is actually ‘Hebrew’, the pronunciation of which has changed over time. Several elders also shared with me stories of how even less than a hundred years ago the Tumaal exhibited traces of other religious practices, mainly Christianity and Persian deities, in their day-to-day spiritual practices. The Gaboye, the largest in terms of population size among the three, is also believed to have exhibited similar differences in terms of religious rituals not that long ago. So, for me, religion is a fundamental, definitive factor as to why these people are discriminated against even though they look very similar to the rest of the dominant population – a speculation supported by the fact that discrimination against these groups mainly revolves around prohibitions against intermarriage and dining together.
Spatial Distribution
While war and Somalia’s protracted conflict changed the geographical spread of many of these communities, much also remains the same. For instance, the native land of the Bantus is along the riverine areas of southern Somalia: however, there is considerable Bantu population who now reside in Puntland as migrant labourers and are heavily represented in the semi-autonomous state’s construction sector. The Banjuni have largely remained in their original territory along the southernmost coast of Somalia, although the odd Banjuni can be found in places as far north as Borama, Somaliland. The Bravanese, made up of a coalition of smaller sub-clans with varying origins, are predominantly present in Mogadishu and other major coastal towns of Barawa and Merka of southern Somalia where despite wielding little political power, their economic prowess has remained unscathed throughout the years of war and conflict.
The lower-caste clans, however, are a different story altogether. These clans do not lay claim to any particular territory of Somalia and are thus found spread across all over the Somali peninsula, including the northern districts of Kenya, Region 5 of Ethiopia and Djibouti. Owing largely to their low-income status, they are mostly concentrated in ghetto-like parts of major towns or as individual households spread across Somalia’s rural base. Exploited mainly for their political expediency, they are often incorporated into or come under the broader protection of a major or sub-clan in the areas they reside in.
Socio-economic Dynamics
The socio-economic dynamics of Somalia’s minority communities, like their geographic spread, varies from one group to the next. For instance, despite their relatively large number, the Bantu community is extremely socially-marginalised and wield no power in the country’s political structure. The Bravanese, on the other hand, while relatively much smaller in number, enjoy a far greater socio-economic status despite braving a socio-political fate fairly similar to that of their Bantu counterparts. They, the Bravanese, are a dominant force in southern Somalia’s economy and their women are the object of desire among the country’s economic elite, even in places as far away from southern Somalia as Hargeysa where marrying a Bravani woman has become among elite businessmen somewhat of a fad in recent years. Both of these facts combine to afford the Bravenese a degree of impromptu social protection that is not at the disposal of the Bantus.
Despite their overall low societal status, there are or were never any laws or manifest social norms/practices that prohibit(ed) members of minority clans from engaging in any particular profession, especially prior to the Somali civil war when they enjoyed relatively greater government-sanctioned social protection. However, they are most often assigned low-income/low-skill work – for instance: the Bantus in construction; Gaboye and Yibir in male grooming services and street-sweeping; and Tumaal in metalsmith.
Here’s another quick anecdote: while working on a UN-funded livestock restocking project in western Somaliland, I once, as an observer, participated in a mediation session between two men. In addition to representatives of the two men’s respective clans, the session was also attended by a respected Gaboye elder and sheikh who would often chime in, making significant contributions towards primarily building goodwill between the two men and their respective camps. His wisdom and inputs were welcomed and highly-regarded and when it came time to observe mid-afternoon prayers, he was asked to lead the prayers. This may not seem strange at all to the average Somali or anyone else for that matter: but it perplexed me deeply for days to come. After prayers, I asked the elder next to me if he would have allowed the Sheikh’s son to marry his daughter or if he would marry the Sheikh’s daughter if the offer was made to him. He looked at me as if I had just asked the most preposterous question ever, saying: “oh, don’t be silly!” I then asked him what the rationale was behind the fact that they had just now allowed this man to lead the prayers, entrusting him with the utmost precious and recurring spiritual obligation in Islam – prayers – yet none of them would have anything to do with him outside of that space. Again, giving me a look of utter astonishment that I’d dare ask such a ‘silly’ question, “the two matters have got nothing to do with each other,” he dead-panned.
Civil Society Engagement
As NGOs imbue Somali life, well at least since after the Somali civil war, there is an NGO or CSO for literally any issue you can think of. As such, there are a number of CSOs that primarily focus on improving the quality of life for minority groups, particularly in the political landscape. There are also a number NGOs/CSOs spearheaded by members of the dominant clans who endeavour to engage in efforts to support minority groups. However, these are predominantly outwardly-focused and rely only on external funding as is the case with nearly all the actors across the Somali civil society spectrum. One organisation I’m fairly familiar with because I provided them support in the past (pro-bono) is a Gaboye-focused NGO called the Academy for Development and Advocacy of Minorities (ADEM Academy) based in Hargeysa. But, there are certainly others in other parts of Somalia engaged in similar efforts.
Current Affairs
As is the case with the rest of the world, many walls that have over the course of humanity been built on shifting sand and on the backs of often shockingly-flimsy folklores and customs are tumbling down. In Somalia a little slower than many other places around the world, but tumbling nonetheless!
What has emerged? This is ironically perhaps one of the heritages of war’s very few unintended positive outcomes: i.e. diaspora; internal displacement; Al-Shabaab rule in vast expanses of Somalia; and globalisation more generally.
- The diaspora experience which many Somalis have had to endure in new and often hostile environments has helped to expose Somalis to the hardships of discrimination, exclusion and life spent on the margins of mainstream society. While this hasn’t necessarily led to any real and tangible change for the vast majority of minority groups that are marginalised inside Somalia, this experience has nevertheless softened the stance of many in the diaspora on the flimsy beliefs they have held for generations about the interrelationship between ethnicity and class. As the diaspora play a crucial role in how Somalis’ collective wisdom is both shaped and shared more widely, the shift in their understanding of the issues – no doubt borne out of how they themselves have interfaced and coped with racism and discrimination abroad – is contributing to a slow but real transformation among the locals at least at the intellectual level.
- Internal displacement, i.e. the presence of a sizeable Bantu population in the country’s northern regions as well as clans from different regions who now reside in large numbers in areas outside their original habitat, is also having a similarly positive impact. Exposure, while it may not bring about an immediate and broad socio-political transformation, enables a closer engagement between people who would have otherwise had minimal contact. In turn, this helps to slowly change the perceptions they have long held about each other. One example that comes to mind is when in 2006 there was a mass exodus of civilians from Mogadishu who had moved to Somaliland, a place not known to be all that welcoming to southerners. Twelve years later, many of the families who had migrated to Somaliland back then have integrated fairly well into Somaliland society, enjoy a much better social status, own businesses, and have opted to remain there rather return to the South as many of their fellow Southerners have done so since the advent of relative peace in major towns in Mogadishu and other parts of south and central Somalia. Another example is the Digil & Mirifle communities in Burao, Somaliland’s second largest town whose residents, among Somalis, are widely known for their abrasive and bigoted tendencies. But, as a community that has long been displaced there, the Digil & Mirifle enjoy a slightly better social status than when they had initially arrived in the early 2000s. Many of the men are employed as teachers, particularly in the Koranic schools, own bookshops and other small businesses, and intermarriage with the local population, while still marginal, is slowly on the rise.
- Al-Shabaab – I have to tread carefully here I realise, but it was during their otherwise bloody reign that Somalia saw the highest prevalence of intermarriage between dominant and minority clans. It was also during their reign – and this continues to be the case even today in the areas they currently occupy – that members of traditionally excluded communities are allowed to meaningfully participate in the upper echelons of the group’s power structure. This is speculated to be the biggest pull factor as to why minority groups support Al-Shabaab.
- Globalisation – again the key here is exposure to new ideas, peoples and belief systems. And, globalisation – by way of television, radio, and the internet – has provided just that. Here’s another quick anecdote to illustrate my point here: I was sitting in a small village in eastern Somaliland listening to the BBC’s late afternoon broadcast with a bunch of elders. As it does every day, the broadcast covered a number of different topics one of which, on this particular day, was transgender rights. I watched the elders really struggle with the concept of a man thinking/believing/wanting to be a woman and making “extremely drastic” life changes to achieve the desired alignment of mind and body. I really enjoyed taking part in the discussion that followed. I doubt these men will ever come into contact with or meet a transgender in person, but they are now exposed to and must wrestle with the idea at least on an intellectual level for the rest of their lives. I realise I’m on a completely different tangent, but I find this worth mentioning because it can be extrapolated to so many other subject matters, including the racism, discrimination, and exclusionary practices endured by entire groups in Somalia.
Religion
As far as the average Somali is concerned, there are no so-called religious minorities - Somalis consider themselves and have been labelled as 100% Muslim in the past. Of course, we know this to not be the case. I have two Christian families in my own lineage who have held important positions in the country’s leadership of past. I have a distant uncle named Michael Mariano who was loved dearly and greatly respected by mainstream society. On one of his visits to Germany, he was interviewed by a German radio station and was asked about the difficulties he must have faced as a Christian in Somalia. Telling the interviewer she had no idea what she was talking about, he explained how in Somalia there is something more pervasive and powerful than religion—the clan. In short, as long as you are born into the right clan, your religious beliefs do not matter very much.
There can be certain exceptions of course:
- It is, generally speaking, when one is simultaneously a religious and ethnic minority that life has unfortunately shorthanded one in the Somali peninsula.
- The Shi’ites are, in my opinion anyway, the most-discriminated against religious group—even more so than say Christians. There is speculation that as of late Iran is supporting various efforts to spread Shi’ism in Somalia. In response, the predominantly Saudi-supported sects across Somalia are also engaged in their own counter-efforts.
- There is a fair bit of sectarian strife which, apart from Al-Shabaab, is limited to within the confines of mainly the various religious groups. Fortunately, mainstream society has demonstrated little interest.
- Almost all of the churches erected in Somalia’s major towns during the colonial era have been destroyed or remain derelict. A recent effort to revive a church in Hargeysa, which has surprisingly remained fairly intact, met with significant backlash from the local community. Although the church remains shut, one positive outcome was the fact that there were a series of debates that followed and involving prominent sheikhs, the crux of which was the need for more tolerance toward other people’s religions.
All in all, despite the very few bright spots I mentioned earlier, the socio-economic/political fate of minority communities in Somalia is likely to remain largely unchanged for some time to come. This is primarily because the vast majority of calls for change with regards to the plight of these communities are either voiced by the weak and insignificant in Somali society or donor-efforts that have little capacity to lead to the buy-in of the most powerful.