On Aug. 14, U.S. Sen. Ted Cruz called on the Trump administration to recognize Somaliland as an independent state. Cruz’s appeal was pitched as a way to reward democracy and counter China’s influence in Africa.
The call for recognition echoes a broader push among American conservatives, including from Heritage Foundation President Kevin Roberts, who has declared, “America should proudly be the first state to recognize Somaliland.” Supporters argue recognition would reward Somaliland’s relative stability and electoral record in contrast to Somalia’s dysfunction.
Since the early 2000s, Somaliland has organized multiple presidential, parliamentary, and municipal elections involving peaceful transfers of power. International observers, though limited in number, have generally found these polls to be credible, despite recurring delays and disputes over the voter registration.
In addition to emphasizing this track record of democracy, Republicans also frame a state of Somaliland as a strategic counterweight to China. Rep. John Moolenaar, chairman of the House Select Committee on the Chinese Communist Party, wrote in a January letter that the creation of a U.S. representative office in the capital of Hargeisa would “underscore our commitment to countering the [People’s Republic of China’s] PRC’s growing influence in one of the world’s most geopolitically significant regions.” Moolenaar pointed to Djibouti’s embrace of Beijing and hinted at potential U.S. basing rights at the port of Berbera—the same port Somalia’s government offered to the U.S. earlier this year. Further sweetening the deal, Somaliland has built a relationship with Taiwan—supposedly an indicator of its willingness to stand by U.S. partners against Beijing’s interests.
Yet these claims, however appealing on the surface, collapse under scrutiny. Recognition now would not advance U.S. interests. It would destabilize the Horn of Africa, undermine counterterrorism cooperation, and embolden separatist movements across Africa with violent consequences.
Although Somaliland runs its own local administration and maintains security forces, it has no international recognition and remains legally part of Somalia. At the heart of this ongoing issue lies the legacy of the former British Somaliland. When Somali dictator Mohamed Siad Barre was overthrown in 1991, a civil war broke out across the nation. The Somali National Movement (SNM) declared Somaliland’s independence in the country’s northwest—a region of roughly 6 million people bordering Ethiopia and Djibouti. The SNM, which was predominantly from the Isaaq clan, based its claim on the borders of this former British protectorate, whereas the rest of Somalia had been under Italian colonial rule. However, such claims ignored the deeply entrenched clan-based affiliations of the regions within these borders. This was made evident later, in 1998, when the Dhulbahante-Darod clan residing in eastern Somaliland joined the newly formed Puntland State of Somalia, which was also Darod. This was an early sign that Somaliland’s claim was far from universally accepted.
Just weeks ago, a new pro-union entity called the North Eastern State declared itself in the Sool, Sanaag, and Ayn regions—the same territory Somaliland has long claimed. These regions have consistently opposed Somaliland’s independence and instead backed a united Somalia.
Somaliland’s attempts to impose control there have left deep scars. In 2007, its forces occupied the capital of Sool, Las Anod, and its surrounding towns, ruling for years amid accusations of serious abuses. During renewed clashes in 2023, Somaliland troops shelled civilian neighborhoods and hospitals, displacing more than 150,000 people. Local militias backed by fighters from the state of Puntland eventually retook the region and later reorganized it as the North Eastern State of Somalia. Not only does this history remain a deep blemish on Somaliland’s record, but it also serves as a major blow to Somaliland’s territorial integrity—a reminder that it lacks full control over its claimed regions.
Endorsing recognition now would inflame these wounds and raise the risk of violent clashes between pro-union and pro-separatist factions. The Darod’s inter-clan dynamics ensure that any conflict involving one will likely draw in the other. This could quickly escalate a local skirmish into a wider regional conflict that stretches across Somaliland’s borders, as with the clashes in 2023. The U.S. should not legitimize another fragile rupture in a region already unsettled by Ethiopia’s wars and instability along the Red Sea corridor.
Even more concerning are the counterterrorism implications. Somaliland has at times signaled interest in ties with Israel, including outreach dating back to the 1990s and periodic reports of quiet contact. These ties help explain why Israel has floated proposals to relocate Palestinians in Gaza to Somaliland, an idea that has already generated anger across the region and the Muslim world. Critics have described it as forced displacement disguised as policy and a move that would violate international law. Extremist groups across Somalia such as al-Shabab are exploiting this climate. Over the past year and a half, the group has already tied Israel’s war on Gaza to its own insurgency in Somali-language Telegram channels, casting itself as part of a broader struggle against Western-backed oppression.
If the Somaliland relocation proposal gains traction, it is almost certain that al-Shabab and its affiliates will seize on it as proof of a Western and Somaliland conspiracy to uproot Muslims and divide Somali territory. If the United States were to recognize Somaliland, it would confirm al-Shabab’s narrative and pour fuel on the fire. These groups would exploit grievances and use them as a tool to ramp up recruitment, which would set back years of U.S. investment in counterterrorism partnerships across the region.
Recognition would not only embolden extremists but also separatist movements across Africa. Secessionist groups from Ethiopia’s Oromia and Tigray regions, to movements in Nigeria and Cameroon, would see it as a green light. Rather than strengthening democracy, recognition would embolden separatists, which would raise the likelihood of new conflicts and even civil wars.
Unlike Somaliland, the only two African countries to gain independence in recent decades, Eritrea in 1993 and South Sudan in 2011, did so with the formal consent of their parent states following popular votes. A unilateral United States recognition of Somaliland without agreement from Somalia’s federal government or consultation with regional partners would mark a dramatic break from those norms. It would damage Washington’s credibility across Africa and open new opportunities for rivals such as China and Russia to portray the U.S. as reckless and self-serving.
None of this means Somaliland’s achievements should be ignored. Its relative stability and electoral practices are notable, but stability is not the same as sovereignty. Washington has tools to encourage progress without crossing the recognition threshold and has been doing so for years. U.S. military and congressional delegations have conducted site visits to the strategic Port of Berbera, and Africa Command leaders and U.S. Embassy officials have also met Somaliland leaders in Hargeisa. On the development side, Washington has invested in energy projects in Hargeisa while also providing grants to strengthen Somaliland’s parliamentary institutions. Most importantly, these projects are all formally authorized through the federal government of Somalia, even when implemented by local actors. The United States can continue to engage with Somaliland this way, promoting growth while upholding Somalia’s territorial integrity.
The Horn of Africa sits at a global crossroads, and a new conflict there would be a disaster. It connects vital maritime routes through the Red Sea, anchors counterterrorism efforts, and shapes Africa’s wider security landscape. The United States should stay focused on practical steps that build stability, not open the door to greater chaos.