Since the end of the Cold War, Somalia has been a textbook case of the perils of foreign meddling. Once a pawn in superpower rivalry, it descended into state collapse, warlordism, and radical insurgency. Successive U.S. administrations, driven by shifting strategic obsessions—from anti-communism to counterterrorism—have repeatedly intervened, each time exacerbating the very problems they claimed to solve. The result? A fractured state, persistent extremism, and record U.S. bombings under the second Trump administration, which is on pace to shatter its own previously set record for strikes in a single year. Far from stabilizing the Horn of Africa, Washington’s actions have entrenched instability, empowered radicals, and imposed costs on both Somalis and American taxpayers.
For Americans seeking context, they must begin with the Cold War and Siad Barre’s regime. Seizing power in 1969, Barre initially aligned with the Soviet Union before switching sides in the late 1970s after the fiasco of the Ogaden War. Seeing that Siad Barre’s regime was disaffected, the Soviets had ceased arms shipments while supplying the new Derg regime in rival Ethiopia, Washington, which was at that moment seeking a foothold in the strategically vital region near Gulf oil routes, stepped in with hundreds of millions in military and economic aid. This continued throughout the 1980s, helping prop up a brutal dictatorship that suppressed any dissent, particularly in the northwest by using mass atrocities. Washington overlooked Barre’s repression as long as he served as a Cold War bulwark.
When the Cold War ended, Barre, no longer seen as critically useful, was abandoned to his fate: and in 1991, long-active clan-based opposition forces toppled Barre, plunging Somalia into civil war, famine, and anarchy. Hundreds of thousands died as a new equilibrium was established between clan-based power players over the course of the 1990s.
This period furnished a great example of the dangers of mission creep, when an initial mandate from the United Nations to U.S.-led forces to protect food supplies for suffering civilians expanded to operations to attempt to disarm militias and provide security. American forces thus found themselves entangled in clan rivalries, targeting warlords like Mohamed Farah Aidid, leading to the infamous “Black Hawk Down” battle in Mogadishu in October 1993, which killed eighteen U.S. soldiers and hundreds of Somalis.
Not that it would deter future involvement.
By the mid-2000s, the power vacuum after the fall of Barre and the mutual exhaustion of the warlords had birthed the Islamic Courts Union (ICU), a loose alliance of Sharia courts that brought a measure of order to Mogadishu and southern Somalia. But Washington, in its post-9/11 fixation on “failed states” as terrorist havens, saw only threats. The W. Bush administration backed a coalition of warlords, including Hussein Mohamed Aidid, against the ICU and supported Ethiopia’s 2006 invasion to install a weak Transitional Federal Government (TFG). U.S. intelligence, special forces, and airstrikes aided the effort.
This was a catastrophic error.
The Ethiopian occupation, backed by Washington, inflamed Somali nationalism and clan resentments. Moderate elements in the ICU were sidelined as hardliners gained traction, rechristening the ICU as the Supreme Council of Islamic Courts (SCIC). Encouraged by Washington, Ethiopia and the recently defeated Somali warlords invaded.
With the traditional power players among the elders smashed, Al-Shabaab, originally the ICU’s youth militia, took the lead and grew into a potent insurgent force. U.S. support for unsavory warlords and the Ethiopian intervention allowed Al-Shabaab to embed in Somali society despite its unpopularity. Hence, what began as a local governance experiment became a jihadist insurgency fueled by foreign occupation and the new reason for Washington to never ever leave.
Indeed, subsequent years have seen a revolving door of U.S.-backed proxies, including the original leader of the ICU they had originally sought to depose, African Union missions (AMISOM/ATMIS), and drone campaigns. Billions in aid, training, and equipment flowed to fragile Somali forces and neighbors, yet Al-Shabaab proved resilient, controlling rural areas, extorting taxes, and launching attacks in Kenya and beyond. U.S. strikes intensified over the years, with special operations and advisory roles persisting. Each escalation promised decisive progress; each delivered stalemate or resurgence.
Today, contrary to Somalia’s federal system, formalized in the 2012 provisional constitution, and in line with traditional Somali political practices, the central government in Mogadishu pushes for greater control, clashing with federal member states (FMS) like Puntland, Jubaland, and others wary of over-centralization. Disputes over revenue sharing, security forces, constitutional powers, and elections persist, with clan politics and resource competition fueling tensions. Somaliland, in the northwest, maintains de facto independence and relative stability, a stark contrast to the south that underscores how external “state-building” often undermines local governance experiments. Mogadishu’s attempts to assert authority over resistant provinces risk further conflict in an already extremely volatile landscape.
U.S. policy remains locked in the counterterrorism rut. Since his reelection President Donald Trump has ramped up airstrikes dramatically, dozens upon dozens in recent periods, targeting both Al-Shabaab and ISIS affiliates in Puntland, setting records while claiming operational necessity. Yet this kinetic focus, absent genuine political reconciliation between Mogadishu and the regions, treats symptoms while the underlying governance failures fester. Billions spent, lives disrupted, and radical narratives reinforced by visible foreign (especially American) involvement. As with the ICU era, heavy-handed tactics provide recruitment fodder.
Propping up unstable regimes or chasing terrorists with drones and proxies has never and will never create a durable state. What it has done and will continue to do is distort local politics, breed dependency, and invite resistance. Somalia’s history since the Cold War is littered with such examples. The human and financial toll, on Somalis above all, but also U.S. resources diverted from domestic priorities, demands reevaluation.
True stability in Somalia, if possible, must emerge from Somali agency: negotiated federalism respecting regional autonomy, reduced clan patronage, and organic security arrangements. External actors, particularly Washington, have repeatedly shown their “help” complicates rather than resolves. Continuing record bombings and proxy support risks perpetuating the cycle, not breaking it.
After decades of evidence, the prudent course is restraint—ending the illusion that distant bureaucrats can engineer Somali society from afar.
