Washington, United States – In a calculated diplomatic push, the self-declared Republic of Somaliland has laid an enticing offer at Washington’s feet: strategic military access to the Red Sea and potential deals for untapped critical minerals in exchange for what it desires most—formal U.S. recognition.  

On the surface, the proposal seems perfectly timed. As the U.S. navigates rising competition with China in Africa and confronts Houthi attacks on the vital Bab al-Mandab shipping lane, a stable, democratic partner offering a port at Berbera appears to be a strategic windfall.  

However, a deeper analysis reveals that this offer, while alluring, is almost certain to be rejected. For Washington, the price of recognition is simply too high. A formidable combination of entrenched U.S. foreign policy, the risk of igniting a regional powder keg, Somaliland’s own internal fragility, and the questionable value of the assets on offer creates an insurmountable barrier. Somaliland’s American dream is destined to collide with a wall of geopolitical reality.

The diplomatic dead end

The single greatest obstacle to any deal is the United States’ long-standing, bipartisan “One Somalia” policy. This doctrine, which supports the sovereignty and territorial integrity of the federal government in Mogadishu, is a cornerstone of U.S. strategy aimed at preventing state fragmentation and building a coherent partner to combat terrorism.

Successive administrations, including both Biden’s and Trump’s, have formally adhered to this policy, viewing a unified Somalia as essential for regional stability.  

This policy is reinforced by Washington’s deference to the African Union (AU) on matters of continental borders. The AU’s foundational charter respects colonial-era boundaries, a principle born from a pragmatic fear that recognizing one secessionist movement could open a Pandora’s box, encouraging dozens of others across the continent and leading to widespread conflict.

The AU has consistently reaffirmed its commitment to Somalia’s territorial integrity, most recently in the wake of a controversial port deal between Somaliland and Ethiopia. For the U.S. to unilaterally recognize Somaliland would mean defying the entire 55-member AU, a move that would be seen as a neocolonial imposition and would shatter critical diplomatic partnerships across Africa. The diplomatic cost is simply too high.  

The risk of geopolitical fallout

The potential for regional chaos is not theoretical. The January 2024 Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) between Ethiopia and Somaliland, which proposed granting Addis Ababa sea access in exchange for potential recognition, provided a stark preview of the consequences. The deal was met with immediate and furious condemnation from Somalia, which called it an “act of aggression.”  

The MoU instantly activated a web of regional rivalries. Egypt, locked in a dispute with Ethiopia over the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam, threw its weight behind Somalia, vowing that it would “not allow anyone to threaten Somalia.”

Turkey, a key security and economic partner to Mogadishu, also moved to counter the deal by deepening its own defense agreements with Somalia.

U.S. recognition would amplify this crisis exponentially, placing Washington in direct opposition to key partners like Egypt and Turkey and turning the Somali government from a counter-terrorism ally into an adversary.  

Analysts warn that the greatest beneficiary of such instability would be the al-Qaeda-affiliated terrorist group, Al-Shabaab. The nationalist outrage following the Ethiopia-Somaliland MoU has already served as a robust recruitment and fundraising tool for the militants. U.S. recognition would pour fuel on this fire, shattering the fragile security coalition and creating a larger power vacuum for the extremist group to exploit.  

Cracks in the “oasis of stability”

A key part of Somaliland’s pitch is its reputation as an “oasis of stability” in a turbulent region. While it has achieved a remarkable degree of peace and democratic development compared to southern Somalia, this narrative conceals deep internal fault lines.  

The 2022-2023 war in the eastern city of Las Anod is a case in point. The conflict ended with Somaliland’s forces being routed by militias from the Dhulbahante clan, who reject secession and have since formed their own administration, SSC-Khatumo, aligned with Somalia. This defeat demonstrated that Hargeisa does not control all of its claimed territory—a fundamental criterion for statehood.

These tensions are rooted in long-standing clan grievances, with eastern clans feeling marginalized by the Isaaq-clan-dominated government in Hargeisa. For the U.S., partnering with Somaliland would mean inheriting this intractable internal conflict, a risk that runs directly counter to its goal of securing a stable regional ally.  

A questionable bargain

Beyond the immense diplomatic and security risks, the assets Somaliland is offering are less concrete than they appear. The promise of vast, untapped mineral wealth, including lithium, is highly speculative. The region is underexplored mainly, and it lacks the modern geological data, regulatory frameworks, and physical infrastructure—such as roads and power grids—necessary for large-scale, commercially viable mining.  

Likewise, the offer of a military base at Berbera is a costly redundancy. The U.S. already operates Camp Lemonnier in nearby Djibouti, its only enduring base in Africa, for which it pays millions annually and has invested billions in infrastructure. While China’s presence in Djibouti poses challenges, building a new, multi-billion-dollar facility from scratch in an unrecognized territory is not seen as a viable alternative.  

While Somaliland’s quest for recognition is understandable, its current offer to the United States is built on a foundation that cannot withstand geopolitical scrutiny. The ironclad U.S. “One Somalia” policy, the unwavering opposition of the African Union, the certainty of regional destabilization, and Somaliland’s internal fractures create a risk profile that no amount of speculative mineral wealth or redundant port access can offset.

Washington’s calculus is clear: the costs of recognition far outweigh the benefits. The U.S. will likely continue a policy of pragmatic engagement, but the dream of formal recognition will, for the foreseeable future, remain just that—a dream.