Does America need to participate in a civil war to protect itself against terrorism?
Does America need to participate in a civil war to protect itself against terrorism?
M ore than 5,100 miles away from where Europe’s deadliest war in nearly 80 years is being waged takes place another conflict, one that has been going on for much longer and is no less deadly to the civilians who happen to be in the cross fire.
The site of this war is Somalia, a country in the Horn of Africa universally known for its political dysfunction, clan warfare, terrorism, corruption, and warlordism. According to New America, the U.S. has launched nearly 300 ground raids and air strikes in Somalia since 2003, the main targets of which have been terrorist leaders, insurgent commanders, and low-ranking al-Shabaab militants.
The first two months of 2023 have been particularly busy for U.S. operators in Somalia. The latest public data from U.S. Africa Command records six strikes that resulted in 60 al-Shabaab fighters killed. In January, U.S. special-operations forces descended upon a cave complex in northern Somalia, killing Bilal al-Sudani, a top Islamic State facilitator, in addition to ten IS operatives.
All of this U.S. action takes place at a time when the Somali government, led once again by President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, has declared a full-scale war against an al-Shabaab insurgency that has terrorized Somalis for a decade and a half. Somalia’s war strategy has received critical assistance from a clan-based militia uprising in the countryside, which is putting al-Shabaab under intense military pressure.
However the war in Somalia evolves or ends (assuming it does end), one thing is clear: The U.S. remains smack in the middle of it and has deepened its involvement since President Joe Biden redeployed hundreds of U.S. special-operations forces and trainers in the country.
For some Americans, the fact that the U.S. military is a party to an African civil war may come as a surprise. If so, you can blame policy-makers and lawmakers in Washington, the majority of whom have shied away from explaining to the American public what the U.S. is actually doing in Somalia, how long it intends to do it, how it measures success, and what end it is trying to achieve.
What exactly are the objectives? Degrading al-Shabaab and IS, or eliminating them? Installing a stable, semi-functioning government in Mogadishu whose writ extends across the country? Training and professionalizing Somali security forces? All of the above? Ask three U.S. officials, and you’re liable to get three different answers. This in and of itself is a problem — it suggests that the U.S. is either unfocused about where it wants to go or is overly ambitious about what can be achieved.
Over time, U.S. military engagement in Somalia has turned into yet another unending battle in the 20-odd-year war on terrorism launched after 9/11. Notwithstanding President Biden’s triumphant declaration, after the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan, that America was finally turning the page on forever wars, the reality is that the U.S. remains very much in a state of conflict: U.S. service members continue to drop bombs outside Mogadishu, shoot down rockets in Iraq, and occupy stretches of territory in Syria, where U.S. bases are frequently forced to contend with missiles and drones courtesy of Iran-linked Shiite militias.
Somalia, however, is different in one important aspect. Unlike Iraq, which at least has a functioning army, or Syria, where the U.S. has decreased its rate of air strikes significantly, the fighting in Somalia is nothing short of a nationwide civil war. The Somali government and al-Shabaab are fighting over territory, power, and economic resources. Al-Shabaab wants to replace the Somali political system in Mogadishu with one based on its narrow interpretation of sharia. The Somali political elite want to keep their power, undermine the al-Shabaab insurgency by peeling off reconcilable elements from the movement, and encourage the U.S. to broaden its military involvement in the country with looser rules of engagement and wider target sets. Al-Shabaab is using terrorism mercilessly and unapologetically, but its objective, as far as we can tell, is to expel foreign forces and rule Somalia, not attack the U.S. like other al-Qaeda franchises. If the movement were to expand its control outside of Somalia, it would face serious practical difficulties. As American University’s Tricia Bacon wrote, “Should al-Shabaab achieve its goals in Somalia, it would likely [be] consumed by trying to run its state, manage internal divisions, and respond to external threats.”
The U.S., therefore, isn’t conducting counterterrorism in Somalia as much as it is executing counterinsurgency in the Somali government’s behalf. Indeed, most U.S. air strikes in recent years have been close-air-support missions for the benefit of Somali forces that were either ambushed by al-Shabaab fighters or looking to go on the offensive. Targeted raids on high-value terrorists such as the one that occurred last month are quite rare in comparison. Terrorist leaders constitute only 2 percent of the 1,904 deaths from U.S. military operations over the last two decades.
None of this is to say that al-Shabaab isn’t a malignant political force. No serious person can make that claim. But it does suggest that policy-makers and lawmakers responsible for U.S. policy in Somalia should get out of the weeds and answer a critical question: Does the U.S. need to participate in a civil war to protect itself against terrorism? Given the U.S. intelligence community’s extensive counterterrorism apparatus, and its willingness to use it when necessary, the answer is no.