A new wave of polemical Somali music

The memorandum of understanding signed by Ethiopia and Somaliland has sparked a wave of polemical songs 

Music has always been one of the strongest means of assisting the liberation or control of people. It is also one of the most profound means for the expression of our humanity, our hopes, fears and aspirations, clearly shaping how people receive and react to events and to each other. “Music,” Khalil Jibran is reported to have said, “is the language of the spirit.” He added that “it opens the secret of life bringing peace, abolishing strife.” Not all music though. Polemical music is music that supports a specific position, either religious or political, while simultaneously undermining or openly attacking another position, either in meaning or form. 

Although Somali modern music has always contained militant and polemic elements, the nature of these elements has shifted over time. During the colonial era, Somali music was employed in the mission to eject the colonising powers. A notable example is the music broadcast through Radio Cairo, which at the time was staffed by Somali nationalist students who directed their ire at France. In the song, My Beautiful Country, the lyrics say:  

“I have pledged this, I have pledged this. For my beautiful country. To reject ‘oui’, and return Djibouti, return Djibouti, and build factories for it.”  

During the Barre era, the military regime co-opted musicians to celebrate the revolutionary government. To this end it doubled down on anti-colonial and pan-African music such as Reject the Colour of Colonialism with lyrics like: “whoever dislikes your black skin, he who hates your appearance, don’t approve of his [appearance].” 

After the fall of Siad Barre’s rule, particularly following Somaliland’s declaration of independence in 1991, polemic music began to take the form of people against people instead of people against a dictatorship or colonial power. The polemic music between these two regions traditionally included elements of creative wit and a metaphoric style that engaged the mind while being enjoyable. However, due to recent geopolitical developments, this culture has grown more explicit and hostile. 

Background  

Since Somaliland’s declaration of independence in 1991, the polemical undercurrent in Somali music has continued, but has focused its energy increasingly on disputes between the two new regions for those invested in the discussion about Somalia and Somaliland’s future. These songs sometimes take the form of exchanges between poets and musicians and other times as stand-alone pieces. 

Nationalist songs from Somaliland often emphasise the legitimacy of its independence, the grievances of the region’s suffering under Siad Barre's rule, and historical and humanitarian rights for international recognition. These songs frequently embed polemic metaphors against Somalia without explicitly mentioning a specific region or people. 

In Somalia’s case, for the songs to be considered polemical by Somalilanders, it was enough to push narratives about the essential unity of Somalia and focus more on the general aspects of the civil war without delving into details. The failure here to acknowledge the grievances of Somalilanders ignores their suffering, and reduces confidence in the likelihood of genuine reconciliation with history. Though not all Somali music wrestles with these issues, as love is another prominent theme artists love to explore, polemics are ubiquitous. But that went to a new level on 26 June with a group called Dayax Band.  

The memorandum and the streets 

When Muse Bihi and Abiy Ahmed announced the outcome of their meeting on New Year’s Day, they likely anticipated the shockwaves it would send through the region, dividing and electrifying its streets. For Ethiopians, it represented the realisation of a long-held ambition to gain direct access to the sea, offering Abiy a significant triumph following years of tumultuous and violent rule. For Muse Bihi, it would potentially make him the first leader in Somaliland’s history to make tangible progress towards international recognition of its declaration of independence. You could see the ear-to-ear grin on the faces of both leaders as they emerged from the press conference. Many Somalis however didn’t view it so charitably.  

Somaliland’s defence minister was the voice of dissent in the self-declared republic, quitting days after its announcement with a fiery reproach of Ethiopia. Somalia’s government similarly raised a diplomatic story accusing Ethiopia of attempting to annex its territory. Egypt, which has its own issues with Ethiopia over the Nile, has publicly said it would back Somalia in the dispute but hasn’t clarified what that support would consist of.  

All this hasn’t been helped by the fact that the memorandum is shrouded in secrecy, so no one is clear what Bihi and Abiy have agreed to. It isn’t clear if Ethiopia’s naval base is permanent or for fifty years. Somaliland has said Ethiopia would recognise its independence which Addis Ababa hasn’t confirmed or denied. Nor is it clear if that would mean Ethiopia weighing in on Hargeisa’s side with its internal disputes with its own separatist regions. This is why one western diplomat has described it as a “memorandum of understanding”.  

The broader historical context, given expression by Somaliland’s former defence minister, is that many Somalis still view Ethiopia as a hostile, aggressive and expansionist power in the Horn of Africa. Abdiqani Ateye said Ethiopia was the “public enemy number 1” for Somalis due to its “occupation” of the Somali region, a theme which Hassan Sheikh Mahmoud tapped into when he said Ethiopia was “annexing” part of Somalia. Somalia’s most famous son, the novelist Nuruddin Farah, once wrote a fiery essay criticising Ethiopia’s attempt to bully Somalis and Eritrea out of the land titled Which way to the sea? He traced this tendency back to the 16th century and said Ethiopia would frequently appeal to Europeans to support their aggressive wars based on a shared Christian faith.  

Authorities in both regions, Somalia and Somaliland, scrambled to define the narrative of this event. Here, music enters the scene as the refuge of all men of power, one way or another. 

Dayax band’s controversial song  

On the night of 26 June, during celebrations of Somaliland’s independence from the trusteeship powers, the band Dayax (Moon), comprising splendid and energetic young men and women, performed in the presence of the president in Hargeisa. They performed for both the audience in the hall and the millions watching the online stream. One of their songs, featuring Furinle’s marching-band trumpet, typical of Somali and African music, launched into ruthless polemics that have dominated social media since. Initially, the song followed the familiar route of nationalist tunes, praising the achievements and glories of the country, asserting its sovereignty, its right to determine the use of its lands and “seas,” and its worthiness of international recognition. The subject of the song remained ambiguous until the popular chorus declared: “Bigger than Xamar [Mogadishu], I own no foe, an Amhara is closer to me than those babbling in Garowe.” These verses were unusually candid in their praise for Ethiopia for a nationalist song and undermined the ethnic loyalties of Somalis to each other before any other ethnicity, particularly one with whom they shared a bitter history. 

Given the context brought about by the MoU, these verses—an allusion to a verse by Ali Jama Haabiil, a highly respected Somali poet from over a century ago—were sensitive for most Somalis, even those in Somaliland. According to many I spoke with, this song marked a loss for Somaliland in controlling the narrative of that political event, at least musically. 

The song's impact was evident from the numerous musical responses it elicited in the same week. These came from various Somali regions, including the Waaberi Band in Muqdisho, asserting “Banaadir needs no one,” and Puntland’s Xiddigaha Puntland, which took the explicit approach further by naming their song “Abbagadha,” referencing the Oromo traditional leader who visited Hargeisa earlier this year. These responses, addressing the Dayax Band song directly or indirectly, clearly reflected how the two controversial verses, especially the latter, were received by many Somalis. 

Additionally, as every song supporting the idea of a united Somalia undermines Somaliland’s independence, these musical responses are often seen as retaliatory. This is particularly true given that such responses usually take implicit metaphorical routes. Consequently, any song promoting Somali unity is perceived as a counterattack by many on the internet. 

Besides national bands, individual Somali artists well-regarded in Somaliland also produced responses. Notable examples include Nimcaan Hilaac’s “It is I who loves you Hamar,” Dayax Dalnuurshe’s “Recognition is not a escape,” and Sharma Boy’s “Masheegee,” which caused a significant stir due to the capacity of rap music to more combatively convey its verses. In one verse he says: “an Amhara’s brother, we can never be at peace… we don’t clean anyone’s backside”. He has gotten more than 1 million views in just ten days.  

Widening the schism between people  

Polemics are never new in Somali literary culture; in fact, some of the major themes of Somali oral poetry could be categorised under polemics. One might say that Somalis have grown insensitive to these kinds of rhetoric, with most classical products of this culture currently used to tease each other or fuel conversations in the fadhi-ku-dirircai sessions. 

That said, such explicit targeting of local identities in Somali music might widen the schism between the Somali people who, despite our chaotic political situation, still coexist in different corners of Somalia, Somaliland and the broader world. Furthermore, one of the things that unites Somalis wherever they are is Somali musicians.   

By virtue of becoming a known Somali musician, an artist transcends clan and regional identity, which is not an easy thing to do in the Somali context. But given the current developments, the singers in Dayax Band might not mean anything to the Somali-speaking world except Somaliland, and the same with the rest of the singers, poets, and musicians, particularly those admired by almost all Somalis. Specifically, in songs like “Masheegee” and others, historical scars like the genocide of Hargeisa are mentioned, which makes the sirens go off too loudly. 

Conclusion  

We can never separate politics from music or any other creative work. We draw on the multitude of factors, circumstances and events which shape us and channel that back into our output. In fact, music has always been and will remain a bearer of human experiences, thoughts, and expressions, including politics. However, given its human nature, it has always been prone to being used by those in power. 

Now here is the point. If those in power know how they can control people’s reactions through the arts, then why can’t artists? An artist must consider the potential backlash a work might provoke before releasing it. And if art is for the people, then what if a certain kind of work might have a negative impact on the people? Is it still worth putting out?