In representing a country that remains unrecognised by the international community, the Somaliland national team are making a statement both on and off the pitch.
Over on the south side of Dulwich Park, where middle-class couples go on romantic bike rides and young professionals dandle their children as they chatter idly at the Pavilion Cafe, a football match is taking place. Though played to the same backdrop of parkland and dense green foliage, the scene contrasts markedly with the genteel Saturday afternoons being had only a few hundred yards away. Contesting the game are Peckham Town, a non-league outfit who usually play in the Kent County Football League Premier, and a side whose white shirts and green shorts reflect the colours of their national flag. This is the Somaliland national team, and they are here to represent a country that the international community does not recognise.
When wearing the national colours of a country that is not officially acknowledged as independent, it is impossible not to make a political statement of sorts. It is a complex situation which has led to Somaliland existing as a de facto state but being snubbed by the international community, and one tied up in Somalia’s national legacy and historical divisions in East Africa. Comprising a sizeable chunk of territory in the north-west of what on a map of the world would simply read ‘Somalia’, Somaliland made a unilateral declaration of independence from its mother country in 1991, this after the collapse of the Siad Barre dictatorship and the end of the first stage of the Somali Civil War. Towards the end of his decades-long reign, Barre had attempted to preserve his crumbling regime by waging a bloody war in the north of the country – this on top of his customary human rights abuses – which many would now class as an act of genocide.
So why does Somaliland remain unrecognised and without de jure independence, despite its relative success as an autonomous and self-governing state? The answer is essentially that, owing to the precarious situation in Somalia – a country that harbours a whole host of secessionist movements and is criss-crossed with ethnic and tribal faultlines – the global establishment has decided that officially recognising Somaliland could set off a regional powder keg. As with many African countries, the borders of Somalia were drawn arbitrarily by the former colonial powers in the region, and as such they inadequately reflect ethnic demographics on the ground. The African Union, to which the rest of the world tends to acquiesce on such matters, has consistently refused to acknowledge Somaliland because to do so – at least according to their logic – might encourage secessionist states elsewhere.
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Of course, this line of thinking should not necessarily take precedence over a people’s right to self-determination, especially when Somaliland is a functional nation state in practice. There is also a major precedent for its independence, which can be traced back to its colonial history as British Somaliland, but that is perhaps a geopolitical point of order for another day. One way or another, many Somalilanders desperately want their country to be recognised by the international community, and have attempted to raise awareness of their fight for nationhood in a wide variety of ways. One of the mediums through which they express their national identity is football, which brings us back to the stretch of parkland that serves as the home of Peckham Town.
The Somaliland national team is an embryonic entity, and still at a point where a friendly against a non-league side is a good test of their abilities. Just as Somaliland is unacknowledged by the rest of the world, so too is their football team unrecognised by international football organisations like FIFA and the Confederation of African Football. Instead they are associated with the Confederation of International Football Associations (CONIFA), a non-profit organisation comprised of de facto nations, autonomous regions, minority peoples, stateless populations and nations not affiliated to football’s world governing body. The national team is the brainchild of a group of Somalilanders living in Britain, and so has strong links to the Somali diaspora in Europe.
The Somaliland national team are something like a grassroots international side, then, organised outside their home country and self-reliant in terms of funds and support. Speaking to Ilyas Mohamed, currently the national team chairman, it becomes apparent just how much effort has gone into establishing the side. He tells me that the players and organisers have put thousands of pounds of their own money into travel, accommodation and equipment, and that they have to budget with the utmost caution depending on what’s coming up in their calendar. Their starting line up also varies considerably, with the team facing Peckham Town mainly drawn from London’s Somali community. For obvious reasons, the logistics of contesting a friendly in SE21 are considerably more straightforward than getting a team to Abkhazia.
When the national team travelled to the CONIFA World Cup, they managed to gather players based in other parts of Europe as well as a few from Somaliland itself, using social media to connect with eligible players and coaches before coordinating their travel arrangements. Still, because of financial and logistical restraints, this is only really feasible for major events. Their friendly against Peckham Town might not have an international profile, but it has drawn a crowd of around 120 spectators, this including a group of moonlighting Dulwich Hamlet fans who set off smoke bombs in Somaliland colours. Matchday contributions raise over £600 for “We try to stay away from politics, and focus more on the aspect of friendship,” Ilyas says of the team’s philosophy and view on Somaliland’s international standing. “Still, we want people to know that we are a struggling country, and we need the rest of the world’s support.” Whatever their present relationship with the powers that be in Somaliland, the national team clearly see their role as helping to raise the country’s profile, not only in pursuit of international recognition but also in terms of its immediate problems. “We have a dual strategy, and that’s to build a team football-wise and at the same time to raise awareness of issues like the drought,” Ilyas adds.
Nonetheless, Ilyas seems to recognise that it’s hard to shy away from the innate political statement of representing Somaliland, even if the national team would like to distance themselves from conspicuous political messaging. “At the moment, Somalilanders feel neglected, and we feel we have a right to be amongst the rest of the world. But as a team we are not aligned politically. It’s all about building relationships with people.” He certainly seems to want to build closer ties with the sporting authorities in Somaliland, mainly in the hope of increasing the resources available to the team. As it stands, their funds are largely donations from the British Somali community, with players and organisers sometimes resorting to collecting at shops and restaurants in order to fund the team.
Ilyas, who lives and works in London himself, was moved to help establish the national team after a visit to Somaliland in 2010. “When you’ve been living in London for a very long time, and then you go back, it’s a reminder of your history,” he says. “You’re grateful for what you’ve been given – a chance in life – and so these guys here have got together to give something back to the people.” Having witnessed the conditions there and thought about the disconnect between the Somali diaspora in Europe and their homeland, he decided that a national side would be a good way of building bridges and fostering bonds. “As these guys grew up, they didn’t necessarily have that identity of coming from Somaliland,” Ilyas says of the national team’s British-born players. “We thought: ‘Okay, well why don’t we initiate it?’ They have dual nationality, they are British as well, but we also want them to have a better idea of who they are.”
Come full time, there are a few snatched moments to speak to central midfielder Khalid Jama and defender Guiled Hussein, both of whom have featured in the game and are visibly exhausted. No matter the complex geopolitical sensitivities of representing Somaliland, they give a fairly straightforward account of what it means to play for their national team. Khalid, who has made six appearances for the side including at the CONIFA World Cup, says: “It’s massive to play games for my team, my country. Hopefully we will one day get recognition from the international community and we can see this team at the FIFA World Cup. That’s what we’ve got to aim for.” While that might be a fair way off for Somaliland, there’s no harm in having a vision for the side. Meanwhile Guiled, a teacher by profession, is keeping his feet firmly on the ground. “We’d like to see recognition from the rest of the world. Obviously, though, just representing your country – there’s no bigger honour than that.”
