The Horn of Africa. A crossroads of the world where Arab and
African traders came together in bustling economic hubs like Mogadishu and Hobyo.
A shining example of cultural and ethnic diversity, home to the Amhara, Oromo,
and Somali ethnic groups, among others. A treasure trove of natural and cultural significance,
from the Lamadaya Waterfalls and the Laas Gaal prehistoric cave paintings of Somalia to the
rock-hewn churches unique to Ethiopia. This is a special place, but it's also a tragic one.
The scene of one of the last phases of colonial expansion in Africa,
much of the region was invaded by Italy in 1935, and then partitioned between British and Italian
control in the years following World War Two. As the shackles of colonialism began to fall away,
the transition to independence was a rough one, and the stage was set for a bloody
conflict that would reverberate around the world. In this episode of Untangling Africa,
we are examining the Ogaden War – a regional conflict that would
capture global attention and leave this corner of the African continent reeling.
In 1960, the Somali Republic declared independence,
uniting lands previously controlled by the British and Italian empires.
The new nation would last for only nine years before it fell once again into tumult,
this time in the form of a left wing coup d'etat led by General Siad Barre in 1969. The coup was
a significant event on the global stage, as it followed the Yemeni "Corrective Move" – a step
towards the formation of a socialist state in South Yemen – only three months earlier.
Communism was now the mode of government on both sides of the Gulf of Aden, and the world was
beginning to pay serious attention to goings on in East Africa and the Arabian Peninsula.
The USA, embroiled in a disastrous conflict of their own in Vietnam, would have been dismayed
to see Africa as well as Asia falling under the sway of their sworn enemy – communist ideology.
They would have been even more dismayed when, five years later,
the Derg, or Provisional Military Administrative Council, overthrew the
government of Emperor Haile Selassie and proclaimed a new regime of socialism in
Ethiopia. Leftist thought and politics were gathering strength in East Africa.
Those who thought the spread of communism would be contained to the Horn of Africa
had not reckoned with the fall of Portugal's African Empire in 1975.
After fascist dictator Antonio Salazar died in 1970, his successor Marcelo Caetano tried to
initiate a softer form of the Estado Novo, or new state, that ruled over Portugal and its subjects.
This resulted in the Carnation Revolution in 1974, a democratic Portugal and, crucially,
a glorious opportunity for resistance fighters in its overseas holdings.
Mozambique in southeast Africa was the first to claim independence, embracing the values
of socialism as an antidote to the fascism they had experienced under colonial rule.
Over in the west of the continent, the Angolans were doing the same thing. Angola had been
fighting a war of independence since the early 1960s, but the fall of the Estado Novo opened the
doors to a long-awaited triumph. What should have been a glorious victory for the Angolans quickly
turned sour, as the groups who had united to kick the Portuguese out of their country swiftly began
to fight among one another. And so the MPLA [Text: the Peoples Movement for the Liberation of Angola]
and the FNLA found themselves on opposite sides of a brutal civil war that would last for decades.
International intervention in regional conflicts was certainly not unheard of.
The Americans and the Chinese quickly involved themselves in the Korean War,
while American and Australian troops fought side by side in the jungles of Vietnam.
The Soviet Union and the United States went head to head in a proxy war in Afghanistan and Pakistan
in the 1960s, a precursor to the disastrous Afghan occupation by the USSR some twenty years later.
But in Angola, the Cold War took on a new turn. In the Angolan Civil War,
it was not American boots on the ground, nor Soviet, but Cuban, as Fidel Castro sent his
troops across the Atlantic to bolster the cause of socialism in Africa. This was not
a move sanctioned by the Soviet Government in Moscow. This was a communist country acting of
its own accord to support a leftist cause in a conflict thousands of miles beyond its borders.
The first intervention of this kind for Cuba, it would certainly not be the last.
Back in East Africa, the Derg was also finding life difficult post-revolution. Rival factions
within the provisional organisation grappled for power, resulting in another civil war that would
last for almost two decades and would deliver such horrors as the Qey Shibir, or Red Terror – a
series of massacres and atrocities perpetrated by government allies desperate to retain power.
The tumult and violence that gripped Ethiopia represented an opportunity for Somalia.
At Somalia's western border, a wedge of Ethiopian territory effectively splits the north and south
of the country.* This wedge of land is known as the Ogaden, and Somalia planned to annex it into
their own territory, effectively closing off Ethiopia's access to the Red Sea and capturing
its largest airbase. But this was more than just a logistical aim, or a military or even ideological
one. It was something much deeper-rooted. Many of the peoples of the Ogaden shared an ethnic
and cultural identity with those on the Somalian side of the border. With so much bloodshed now
unfolding within Ethiopia, annexation would protect these ethnic Somalis while also
expanding the nation's own borders. Plans were drawn up, and an invasion force was prepared.
The idea of two socialist states going to war appalled Castro.
In 1977, the Cuban premier flew to Aden in South Yemen, ready to put forward the
idea of a socialist union between the states of Ethiopia, Somalia and Eritrea.
The union between Egypt and Syria – the United Arab Republic – had failed six years previously,
but Castro believed it could be different this time. The three countries shared borders, creating
one contiguous landmass, and the union would bring peace and stability to a region in turmoil.
The Somalian government, still under the command of Siad Barre, who had seized power in 1969,
was having none of it. On July 12, the Somalis invaded, pushing through Ogaden
lands and occupying 60% of the territory by the end of the month. Aided by allied groups within
Ethiopian territory – notably the WSLF, or Western Somali Liberation Front – the invaders ripped
through the Ethiopian defenders and made short work of their divisions and military hardware.
But international opinion was not on the side of Somalia. While the USSR had supported the Somalis
with equipment, they sided with the Ethiopians, sending General Vasily Petrov to Addis Ababa
as an advisor. The Soviet General was reportedly dismayed by the state of the Ethiopian equipment,
and the USSR sent a vast airlift of arms and supplies to shore up the Ethiopian defenders.
Communist regimes such as South Yemen and North Korea pledged direct assistance to the Ethiopians,
although only the Yemenis would be able to put soldiers into action. East Germany,
another communist state, offered other supports,
such as training for troops. Even non-Communist Israel, who did not maintain official diplomatic
relations with Ethiopia, armed the Derg against the invading Somalis.
Despite international opposition, the war was going well for Somalia in its initial phases,
effectively dominating Ethiopian airspace with its MiG-21 planes and pushing right
up to the outskirts of Dire Dawa – a city of enormous strategic significance to both sides.
But such gains wouldn't last. After trying to bring about a ceasefire,
the USSR decided to ditch Somalia altogether, throwing its full
weight behind the Ethiopian cause but stopping short of sending regular troops.
In the communist world, only China and Romania supported Barre and his Somali army,
although neither would provide meaningful assistance to Somalian forces on the ground.
After a disastrous opening to the war, the weight of support for the Ethiopians
was beginning to tell, and the defenders gradually re-established airborne supremacy.
What's more, the strategic objective of Dire Dawa was proving a tough nut to crack, and the
Somalian forces were taking enormous casualties in each engagement as the defenders clung on.
The war was in its second month, and it appeared the tide was
turning. The most significant foreign intervention, however, was yet to occur.
By September, Ethiopia controlled only 10% of the Ogaden, but was far from defeated.
With air superiority now theirs, Ethiopian planes were able to hit Somali armour hard,
while the rainy season slowed Somalian advances. There was also significant infighting between
the Somali National Army and their WSLF allies, making further progress difficult.
But it was the Battle of Harar from October 1977 to January the following year that would bring the
biggest turning point of the war. The ranks of the Ethiopians had been swelled by a huge recruitment
drive, and a militia of 100,000 men had joined the cause. Alongside them were 1,500 Soviet military
advisors, and 16,000 soldiers from Castro's Cuba, ready to put an end to the conflict.
Exhausted, battered and broken, the Somalis fell back in January 1978.
Things were looking bleak for Siad Barre, and they were about to get bleaker still.
In February 1978, the Ethiopians launched their counterattack.
Ethiopian and Cuban soldiers fought side by side, pushing the Somalis back across the Ogaden region
and reversing the gains of the previous year. Then, the coalition made a move that even the
embattled Somalians did not expect. They broke northeast, sending a column of Ethiopian and
Cuban troops into the unforgiving terrain that separated Jijiga from the Somalian border.
Supported by Soviet helicopters and by a withering Cuban artillery bombardment,
the Ethiopians took Jijiga in only 48 hours, leaving as many as 6,000 Somalis dead or wounded.
The game was up. By mid-March, all Somali units had withdrawn,
and all ceased territory was ceded back to Ethiopia. The war was over.
Cuban and Ethiopian soldiers had marched together to victory in the Horn of Africa.
The war was an unmitigated disaster for Siad Barre and his regime. Over 6,500 Somali
troops lay dead in the Ogaden, with nearly 2,500 wounded. The armed forces had lost 28 aircraft,
11 helicopters, and more than 200 tanks – losses they could ill afford.
Half a million ethnic Somalis living in the Ogaden were displaced.
What's more, the communist states of the USSR, Cuba, North Korea and East Germany
had abandoned Somalia when it mattered. Ongoing friendships with China and Romania
would not be enough to quell the increased isolation of Somalia on the world stage,
while an attempted coup d'etat in April 1978 threatened to bring an end to the Barre regime.
But Barre, his ears still ringing from the carnage of the Ogaden,
was not going to relinquish power without a fight. His Red Beret special forces units
committed horrific atrocities against rebel clans, and a bitter civil war broke out in Somalia – with
the legacy of that civil war costing countless lives and leaving many more in abject misery.
Advice from the US State Department regarding travel to Somalia recently went viral. Among other
tidbits, the memorandum recommended "drafting a will", leaving DNA samples in case your
family needs to access them, and "discussing plans and funeral wishes with loved ones."
This shattered country, and the heartbreaking loss of life seen here in the Horn of Africa, is the
legacy of those few short months in 1977 and 1978. Even today, Somalia's suffering has not yet ended.
Let us know what you think about the Ogaden conflict. Share your thoughts in
the comments. But what do you think? Please feel free to share your thoughts.