Opinion

Somaliland and the Israeli recognition: A post-mortem of Arab strategic impotence


A group of Somalis, carrying Somali flags and chanting slogans against Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Israel, protest Israel’s decision to recognize Somaliland, gathering in Mogadishu, the capital of Somalia, on December 28, 2025. [Abuukar Mohamed Muhidin – Anadolu Agency]

by Dr Mustafa Fetouri
Middle East Monitor.
January 15, 2026 

As 2026 dawns, the Arab world finds itself staring at a strategic catastrophe that is as much a product of its own making as it is a result of foreign design. The formal recognition of the Republic of Somaliland by Israel is not merely a diplomatic shift in the Horn of Africa; it is a definitive blow to the anti-normalisation camp and a stark revelation of the “strategic void” that now defines Arab foreign policy—if one ever existed.

While the League of Arab States (LAS) and the Organization of Islamic Cooperation (OIC) remain trapped in a cycle of hollow condemnations and “statements of concern,” the geopolitical map of the Red Sea is being redrawn with clinical precision.

Without a deep dive into history, it is essential to understand the present, one must look at the deep-seated historical roots of this manoeuvre. The recognition of Somaliland is a modern revival of the Israeli “Periphery Doctrine”—a strategy designed to leapfrog the hostile Arab core by building alliances with non-Arab or marginalised actors on the fringes.

This logic dates back to at least 1944, when the Jewish Organisation for Refugees petitioned the Ethiopian Empire to allocate the Harar region as a Jewish homeland. While the Ethiopian Emperor eventually refused—not out of principle, but because the Zionists demanded the entire province—the seed of a strategic alliance between the Horn and the future Zionist state was planted. Today, by recognising Somaliland, Israel is completing a pincer movement that secures its presence in the Bab al-Mandab, a feat it could never have achieved without the vacuum left by Arab indifference.

The Israeli focus in this perspective has always been on non-Arab countries that hold the vital resources upon which the Arab world depends—most notably, water. For decades, Israel’s long-term strategy has prioritised relations with Turkey, knowing that the water security of major Arab states like Syria and Iraq is tethered to Turkish headwaters. We see the same pattern today with Ethiopia; by building deep strategic and technical ties with Addis Ababa, Israel gains indirect leverage over the Nile, the very lifeblood of Egypt. This “hydro-diplomacy” ensures that while Arab states are busy with internal friction, their existential resources are increasingly influenced by a non-Arab periphery aligned with Tel Aviv.

The leadership in Hargeisa has played a masterful, if cynical, hand. After thirty years of seeking recognition from an Arab world that offered nothing but lip service to “Somali unity,” Somaliland realised that the road to international legitimacy—and the White House—runs through Tel Aviv.

In the prevailing logic of the Trump era and its aftermath, Somaliland offered itself as a candidate for the Abraham Accords. They understood a reality that Arab capitals refuse to acknowledge: Israel is the gatekeeper of American favour. By trading recognition for a seat at the table of normalisation, Hargeisa secured a strategic lifeline that the LAS was either unwilling or unable to provide.

The fundamental question facing Cairo, Riyadh, and Mogadishu today is: What can the Arab world offer Somaliland to turn it away from Israel?

The uncomfortable answer is: Nothing.

There is no economic package, no security guarantee, and no political roadmap currently on the table from any Arab or Islamic body that carries more weight than the recognition offered by Israel. We are witnessing “Zero-Value Arab Diplomacy.” Even Somalia itself, which claims Somaliland as its sovereign territory, is so weakened that it may eventually find itself forced to join the normalisation wave simply to stay relevant—regardless of Israel’s ties with Hargeisa. While this might seem like a far-fetched notion today, the history of the Arab-Israeli conflict is littered with “unthinkable” concessions that eventually became reality. Few would have predicted in the 1960s that Egypt and Jordan would eventually sign peace treaties at the expense of the Palestinian cause—the very cause they once defined as their “central” national struggle.

Perhaps the most telling indictment of the current Arab order occurred during the 28 December emergency meeting of the Arab League. In a display of profound political duplicity, the United Arab Emirates (UAE) presided over the session that heard delegate after delegate denounce the Israeli-Somaliland thaw. Yet, Abu Dhabi—with its massive investments in the Port of Berbera and its deep-rooted ties via the Abraham Accords—refused to sign the final statement of condemnation.

The UAE also remained conspicuously silent at the OIC and during the UN Security Council discussions. This “calculated malice” suggests that for some Arab powers, the fragmentation of Somalia and the expansion of Israeli influence are not threats to be countered, but business opportunities to be managed.

The international response has been equally cynical. During recent UN Security Council deliberations, the United States took a stance that can only be described as “strategic superficiality.” Washington’s logic—prevalent in the current Trumpian era—is that if the world can recognise a Palestinian state that lacks actual sovereignty, there is no logical barrier to recognising a Somaliland state that has functioned with de facto sovereignty for three decades. It is a shallow argument, but in a world where Arab influence has been reduced to a whisper, it is an argument that carries the day. The US deliberately twists fact of history that Palestine is not part of any other state but an occupied country demanding its freedom—a humanly strong case for recognition by all UN member states.

There is also the lingering, rumour that Israeli recognition is a “quid pro quo” for Somaliland agreeing to host forcibly displaced Palestinians from Gaza. While Hargeisa has officially denied this, and pan-Islamic sentiment among its people remains a formidable barrier, focusing solely on the success or failure of such a “resettlement” plan is a mistake. As seen in November 2025, when a mysterious flight of over 150 Palestinians landed in South Africa—reportedly coordinated by Israeli-linked groups—the intent to disperse the Palestinian population is no longer a secret; it is an active policy. However, for the Arab world, the damage is already done. Even if not a single Palestinian is relocated to the Horn of Africa, the strategic anchor that Israel has now dropped in Somaliland represents a permanent loss of Arab littoral control.

The “Somaliland crisis” is not a failure of international law; it is a failure of Arab vision. By ignoring the legitimate administrative stability of Hargeisa and offering no viable path for Somali reintegration, the Arab world created a vacuum. Israel, ever the opportunist, simply walked through the door that Arab neglect left wide open.

If the LAS continues to prioritise ink-on-paper statements over ground-level engagement, it will soon find that it no longer controls the shores of the Red Sea. The “Arab Lake” is being drained, and in its place, a new, non-Arab security architecture is rising—one where the Arab voice is not only unheard but entirely irrelevant despite being majority of shoring countries.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.