The Pirates of Somalia_ Inside Their Hidden World - Jay Bahadur [18]
The link between political stability and the frequency of pirate attacks has some convincing empirical support; when Puntland descended into violence, piracy was the first business to suffer. In 1992, for instance, the year when Abdullahi Yusuf was locked in a fierce conflict to prevent the Islamist organization al-Ittihad al-Islami from establishing a Puntland foothold, piracy completely disappeared from the region. In 1994–1995, after Yusuf had triumphed and relative peace was restored, the frequency of pirate attacks began to creep up once more.14
The theory holds for Harardheere and Hobyo as well, which are located in another autonomous region—Galmudug—insulated from the chaotic south. Galmudug, with an administration far weaker than even Puntland’s, was perhaps an even more ideal business environment for pirate entrepreneurs—a fact that the astute Afweyne was able to capitalize on.
Somaliland, in contrast, possesses a Gulf of Aden coastline comparable to Puntland’s, yet the few pirates originating from the region have been swiftly arrested and incarcerated by the local authorities. The difference is due to Somaliland’s greater political stability, a product of its robust history of democracy and inter-clan consensus. Its central government can exert control over its territory in a way that Puntland’s leaders, who must navigate a much more fractured clan landscape, cannot. In the south, in short, the pirates had to fear other criminals; in Somaliland, the danger came from a more traditional source: the police.
Environmental circumstances also contributed to the rise of piracy. The population of Puntland is largely nomadic, and depends heavily on the seasonal rains to sustain their livestock herds. From 2002 to 2004, Puntland suffered its worst drought in thirty years. Herds were decimated, and much of the nomadic population flocked to urban centres in search of food. With an estimated 600,000 across Somalia directly affected by the dry spell, the governments of both Puntland and Somaliland declared a humanitarian emergency. Although there is no conclusive evidence, it is possible that this drought drove those traditionally dependent on livestock to rely on fishing as a source of sustenance, with the result that the standard encroachment by foreign fleets on Somali fisheries may have been viewed as especially egregious.
Just as Puntland was on the verge of recovery from this crippling drought, Mother Nature supplied her own solution to the water shortage. On December 26, 2004, one of the most powerful tsunamis in recorded history struck near the Indonesian island of Sumatra, sending waves as high as thirty metres surging across the Indian Ocean. The coastal areas of Puntland—though more than 4,800 kilometres from the tsunami’s epicentre—did not escape. Over three hundred people were killed and the livelihoods of forty-four thousand affected.15 The tsunami devastated the region’s fishing economy, destroying an estimated six hundred boats and damaging 75 per cent of the fishing gear beyond repair.16
One of the tsunami’s indirect contributions to the piracy outbreak was the (literal) exposure of toxic dumping in Somali waters. Residents of Eyl and nearby coastal towns related how the tsunami’s waves had broken open and scattered ashore previously submerged toxic waste canisters, causing an increase in the incidence of radiation sicknesses amongst the local population. Though a brief UN fact-finding mission to the area found no evidence to corroborate these claims, the perception