Ethiopia, Israel, and Somaliland: Why Recognition Could Reignite the Ogaden Question

by David Yeh

In the Horn of Africa, seemingly symbolic diplomatic gestures rarely remain symbolic for long. They travel quickly through memory, identity, and unresolved history, activating political fault lines that have never fully closed. Th unilateral recognition of Somaliland by Israel, especially if tacitly endorsed or quietly accommodated by Ethiopia, would not be a marginal foreign-policy move. It would strike directly at the Somali question inside Ethiopia itself, reopening a century-old struggle over identity, sovereignty, and belonging in the Somali Region (commonly referred to as the Ogaden). To understand why such a step could prove destabilizing, Ethiopia must confront a simple truth: Somali grievances in Ethiopia have never been extinguished, only deferred.

The Historical Roots of Somali Self-Determination

Since the incorporation of what is now the Somali Regional State into Ethiopia between 1945 and 1958, its Somali population has persistently contested Ethiopian rule. This contestation has taken multiple forms, armed resistance, political participation, negotiation, and withdrawal, but its core demand has remained constant: self-determination, which is entitled to by Ethiopia’s 1995 constitution’s Article 39. Each phase of struggle has shaped Somali perceptions of Ethiopian governance and regional alliances, producing a deep reservoir of historical memory that continues to inform political behavior today.

The most decisive early moment came in 1977, when the Western Somali Liberation Front (WSLF) emerged as the dominant liberation movement in the Ogaden. Drawing on extensive local support, the WSLF together with The Somali Abo Liberation Front (SALF) mobilized fighters, resources, and political legitimacy from within Somali communities themselves. In a matter of months, they achieved significant territorial gains, liberating Jigjiga and threatening the outskirts of Dire Dawa. For a brief period, the Somali question appeared poised for a locally driven resolution rooted in popular mobilization rather than external arbitration.

That possibility collapsed when Somalia intervened directly, transforming a local liberation struggle into a conventional interstate war. The consequences were devastating. The Soviet bloc abruptly shifted its allegiance from Somalia to Ethiopia, delivering massive military assistance alongside Cuban, South Yemeni, and Soviet forces. When Somali troops withdrew, Ogaden’s civilian population was left exposed. Thousands were displaced, and more than 15,000 Somali homes in Dire Dawa were confiscated and resettled.

Yet even in defeat, resistance did not disappear. The WSLF continued to operate with limited means, sustained largely by local communities rather than foreign patrons. This pattern would repeat itself across decades: Somali movements weakened by external abandonment, but never erased.

From Armed Struggle to Political Engagement and Back Again

A second turning point came in 1988, when Somalia and Ethiopia mutually agreed to halt support for insurgent movements. This agreement severely weakened the WSLF and created a political vacuum. Out of that vacuum emerged the Ogaden National Liberation Front (ONLF), which inherited the mantle of Somali self-determination under far more constrained conditions. With minimal external backing, the ONLF relied on historical legitimacy, local support, and a narrative of unfinished decolonization.

The fall of the Derg regime in 1991 appeared to open a new chapter. Somali leaders engaged actively in Ethiopia’s federal restructuring, and the ONLF’s victory in the 1994 regional elections suggested the possibility of resolving the Somali question through peaceful political means. That promise, however, was short-lived. Internal Somali divisions, the collaboration of regional warlords with the TPLF-led EPRDF, and targeted repression of ONLF members quickly undermined political progress. Federalism, in practice, became another mechanism for deferring rather than resolving Somali aspirations.

A similar cycle unfolded again in 2018. Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed’s outreach to opposition movements, culminating in the Asmara peace agreement, allowed the ONLF to return from exile, disarm, and reenter formal politics. For a moment, reconciliation appeared plausible. Yet once again, structural marginalization persisted. Political space narrowed, promised reforms failed to materialize, and security pressures returned. Inclusion remained theoretical; exclusion remained lived reality.

Somaliland, Recognition, and the Risk of Reigniting Conflict

Today, the Horn of Africa stands at another inflection point. Ethiopia’s internal conflicts, shifting regional alliances, and the unilateral recognition of Somaliland by Israel risk reopening political space for renewed Somali mobilization. For Somalis inside Ethiopia, such recognition would not be viewed as a neutral diplomatic act. It would be read as an assault on Somali unity and identity, reinforcing perceptions that external powers continue to redraw Somali political futures without Somali consent.

Historical memory matters here. Somali identity transcends state borders, and symbolic affronts often generate tangible political consequences. Any Ethiopian acquiescence to Somaliland’s unilateral recognition would likely galvanize moral solidarity across Somali communities, inside Ethiopia and beyond. Movements such as the ONLF could find renewed relevance, drawing legitimacy from a long record of broken promises and unresolved injustice.

At the same time cross northern Somalia, political realities on the ground make it highly unlikely that communities in Awdalland (Awdal) and Khatumo would accept incorporation into an Isaaq-dominated Somaliland project. In Awdal, whose population is overwhelmingly Gadabuursi, opposition to Somaliland has been consistent since the early 1990s, rooted in the perception that political power, economic resources, and international representation have been monopolized by Hargeisa-based Isaaq elites. Local leaders and civil society actors in Borama and surrounding districts have repeatedly framed their position not as marginal dissent but as a defense of political equality and historical autonomy within a Somali-wide framework. In Khatumo, encompassing large sections of Sool, Sanaag, and Cayn and inhabited predominantly by Dhulbahante communities, rejection of Somaliland authority has been even more explicit, taking the form of armed resistance, parallel administrations, and repeated declarations of allegiance to Somalia rather than to Hargeisa. For these communities, Somaliland is not viewed as a neutral state-building project but as a clan-centered polity imposed without consent, one that threatens to erase their political agency, historical narratives, and access to decision-making. Any attempt to treat Somaliland as territorially or socially homogeneous ignores these entrenched realities and risks hardening resistance, not resolving it.

Conclusion

History offers a clear warning. Somali grievances do not dissolve when ignored; they resurface when political openings appear. The repeated collapse of reform moments, most recently after 2018, demonstrates a persistent pattern of hope followed by retrenchment. In this context, miscalculations surrounding Somaliland risk transforming latent dissatisfaction into organized resistance, further destabilizing Ethiopia’s already fragile federal order and reverberating across the Horn of Africa.
The likely outcome of such a trajectory is not strategic gain but fragmentation and loss. Ethiopia would risk destabilizing and ultimately losing its Somali Regional State, while the scenario that Israel and Ethiopia appear to anticipate is not the consolidation of a unified former British Somaliland, but the splintering of the northern Somali territories into multiple rival subregions. Any expectation of gaining proximity or influence near the Bab el-Mandeb would almost certainly prove illusory. Awdalland would constitute a firm political and social barrier, while a Hargeisa-centered Somaliland project would find itself increasingly isolated, deprived of legitimacy, and left exposed without the cohesion or regional consent needed to sustain its ambitions.

The Somali question is not peripheral to regional stability; it is central to it. Any strategy that underestimates Somali historical consciousness, misreads identity politics, or treats symbolic alliances as cost-free gestures risks reigniting one of the region’s most enduring conflicts. Sustainable peace requires political inclusion, respect for identity, and a genuine commitment to resolving grievances that have been postponed for decades. Short-term diplomatic alignments, especially those involving Somaliland, may appear expedient, but they carry the danger of reopening wounds whose consequences the region can ill afford to relive.