President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud landed in Algiers last month with one mission in mind: to calm the waters between Somalia and Algeria after a tense diplomatic moment at the United Nations Security Council. On October 31, the UNSC passed a resolution backing Morocco’s “self-rule” proposal for Western Sahara. Somalia’s vote on that resolution created unease in Algiers, a country that has long supported the Sahrawi cause.
The President’s visit was meant to steady that relationship. Somali officials who traveled with him described the trip as measured and delicate, the kind of quiet diplomacy that rarely makes headlines but carries real consequences. Hassan’s team worked to reassure Algerian leaders that Somalia had no intention of shifting its long-standing stance on Western Sahara or undermining Algeria’s regional position.
For a brief moment, it seemed that those assurances were working. Algerian officials privately signaled that they understood the complexity of Somalia’s vote. They were not pleased, but they were willing to hear the President out. President Hassan himself returned to Mogadishu confident that the worst had been avoided.
So when Somalia’s foreign minister appeared in Rabat this week, signing a joint communiqué with Morocco—without prior consultation—sources inside Villa Somalia described the President’s reaction in one word: furious. I cannot confirm the full details of the internal deliberations that followed. However, multiple officials familiar with the matter told Caasimada Online that the move blindsided the presidency and threatened to unravel every inch of progress Hassan had made in Algiers.
Rabat presented the communiqué as a roadmap for stronger cooperation across education, agriculture, fisheries, tourism, counterterrorism, and diplomatic exchanges. On paper, it read like a relatively standard bilateral agreement, the kind that many countries sign without controversy. But timing matters in diplomacy, and this one landed like a grenade.
By signing it now—weeks after President Hassan’s mission to Algeria—the foreign minister, whether intentionally or not, sent a message that Mogadishu was warming to Morocco at the exact moment it should have been balancing carefully between two rivals. Moroccan officials celebrated the moment with polished photos, flags aligned neatly behind the signing table, and language framing the partnership as forward-looking and strategically aligned.
In Rabat, it played as a success. In Mogadishu, it played as a political disaster.
According to senior officials who spoke on condition of anonymity because they were not authorized to comment publicly, the President learned of the signing not through his own channels but through the Moroccan Foreign Ministry’s public announcement. One adviser described the moment as “a diplomatic ambush from within”—a harsh assessment, but one that reflects the scale of frustration inside Villa Somalia.
Another official put it more cautiously: “The President feels undermined. He had just put in the work to stabilize relations with Algeria. This completely complicated that effort.”
What makes the situation even more explosive is the regional context. Algeria and Morocco remain locked in one of Africa’s most entrenched geopolitical rivalries. Their dispute over Western Sahara is not a symbolic disagreement—it shapes alliances, trade routes, intelligence cooperation, and the political calculations of dozens of governments across Africa and the Middle East. For Somalia, a nation still navigating its own security and diplomatic challenges, choosing sides too visibly carries risks.
President Hassan sought neutrality. The foreign minister’s signature suggested alignment. That contrast alone has triggered internal questions about coordination, oversight, and loyalty.
Inside Mogadishu, speculation about the foreign minister’s future is running hot. Some believe he will be dismissed quickly to signal both accountability and damage control. Others believe the President may hold off until he understands whether Algeria interprets the Rabat communiqué as a direct affront. I cannot confirm which path Hassan will take, but aides acknowledge that the minister’s position is now deeply uncertain.
There is also the broader question of how Somalia navigates its relationships with both North African powers going forward. If Mogadishu leans too closely toward Rabat, it risks alienating a long-standing ally in Algiers. If it swings back toward Algeria, it may undo the diplomatic capital invested in Morocco. Walking that line requires coordination at the highest levels. What happened this week showed anything but.
For now, Villa Somalia is publicly silent. No statements. No clarifications. No corrections. Behind closed doors, however, officials admit the mood is tense. One described the moment as “a reminder that foreign policy cannot run on autopilot, not in this region, not in this climate.”
Somalia wanted neutrality. Instead, it now finds itself explaining a signature it never planned, navigating fallout it never wanted, and waiting to see whether one minister’s pen stroke will reshape the country’s standing in North Africa.