This article addresses the effects of private security companies (PSCs) in a state that has no functioning central authority. Since the fall of Siad Barre's government in 1991, Somalia has come to be seen as one of the world's ‘failed’ states. Today, although the Transitional Federal Government (TFG) is internationally recognised as Somalia's legitimate government, it remains weak and its institutions have a limited geographical reach. Several smaller political entities wield territorial control over large areas; the two most significant are Somaliland and Puntland. Somaliland is located in the north-west of Somalia, and strives for international recognition as an independent state, but to date remains unrecognised by the international community. Since 1991 Somaliland has embarked on a state building project, and now has a relatively democratic political structure, a rudimentary police and coast guard, as well as a legal system that functions in its core areas (Hansen & Linderman, 2003). The Puntland state of Somalia, created in 1998, is located in north-eastern Somalia, and similarly boasts a functioning state-like bureaucracy. Puntland, which never declared independence and nominally accepts the TFG, has weaker governance structures than Somaliland, but has nevertheless created relative stability within its area of control and strives to build state-like institutions.
The TFG, Somaliland and Puntland have all at various points contracted private security or military companies, and this article investigates the role and impact of private force in this fragmented and fluid political environment. The areas of responsibility allocated to PSCs by Puntland and the TFG were very similar in character, and involved coast guard services in the form of protection against illegal fishing, the prevention of piracy and illegal dumping of waste. The private companies were also contracted to train local forces to perform coast guard services. Puntland was the first to employ a private security company, hiring the British company Hart Security from 2000 to 2001, followed by the Somali (but Emirates registered and based) SOMCAN from 2001 to 2006, and finally the Saudi based Al-Hababi Marine Services in 2006, all with a view to ending piracy and illegal fishing. The Transitional Federal Government initially hired the American firm Top Cat Maritime in order to protect Somali waters from illegal fishing, toxic dumping and piracy. Top Cat forfeited their contract in May 2006, and the Somali cabinet then hired Northbridge Services Group Ltd on 12 May 2006, which in turn withdrew a year later (Northbridge Service Group, 2006). Somaliland's engagement with private security is interestingly different, in that it is financed by the Norwegian aid agency NORAD and aims to improve security of the territory's main port in Berbera.
Existing analyses of private security companies variously argue that private force can enhance or weaken local institution building, that they might act as agents for global governance or specific interests of western powers, and/or that they are a part of broader networks that blur the distinction between the public and the private, the global and the local (Small, 2006; Avant, 2005: O'Brien, 1998; Abrahamsen & Williams, 2007). On the one hand, it has been suggested that weak states under some circumstances can benefit from hiring private security (Small, 1998; O'Brien, 1998). As argued by Small, PSCs might help weak states that have ‘legitimate needs, but inadequate capabilities’ to build and defend their territories, institutions, and populations by providing outside resources and transferring skills from countries with more efficient security and military systems (Small, 2006:25), as well as by providing access to international networks otherwise beyond the reach of poor countries. In this view, a private security companies providing services such as anti-piracy patrols and protection of natural resources can allow weak state to exert greater control over their destinies, and may provide a means whereby external actors can contribute to this process even when they are unwilling or unable to engage in direct intervention (see Weiner, 2006; Shearer, 1998b; Brayton, 2002).
At the same time, even proponents of PSCs acknowledge that there might be problems caused by their employment. Small suggests that employing PSCs might prevent weak states from creating their own mechanism for handling security problems, thus preventing a durable solution (Small, 2006:29). In a similar vein, Avant (2005) argues that state capacity is the crucial variable in the ability of states to control private security firms. Weak states may lack the vital administrative resources and skills required to utilise and supervise PSCs effectively, and hiring private forces risks a further fragmentation of authority at the same time that it enhances the power of external actors – whether these be foreign states or private capital – to the detriment of local interests (Singer, 2004; Yeoman, 2004). A further set of concerns involve the charge that PSCs can operate more clandestinely, avoiding democratic scrutiny. President Clinton's ambassador to Colombia, Myles Frechette, stated that PSCs in Latin America conduct actions ‘that would have been unpalatable for the armed forces’ (Yeoman, 2004). PSC activities thus raise questions of transparency and accountability, and may allow governments to pursue policies that would be difficult or even impossible to undertake through the use of public forces.
This article shows that the employment of PSCs in all three areas of Somalia has important implications for the development of political authority and territorial control. It argues that no a priori conclusion can be drawn about the effects of private force on weak states, but that instead, careful attention needs to be paid to the relationship between the private company and the contacting state. In a fluid and fragmented political environment such as Somalia, a wide array of international private security firms have had widely divergent impacts, depending in large part on their interaction with decentralised and fragmented local power structures and global actors.
PSCs in Puntland
The coastline of Puntland contains some of the richest fishing grounds in Somalia, offering tempting targets for illegal fishing boats, including Yemeni, Spanish, and French vessels. Puntland is also the centre of a lucrative human trafficking and arms smuggling business, as well as hosting several subsistence pirate groups.1 Puntland itself is relatively fragile, and consists of three clans: the Majerteen, who dominate the entity, the Warsangeli, and the Dolbahante. The Majerteen clan is in turn divided into several sub-clans and the struggles for dominance between two of these clans, the Omar Mahamoud and the Osman Mahamoud, have created severe conflict in the region. Perhaps as a result, keeping peace by maintaining a fragile clan balance within the government, and by distributing financial support to local strongmen has been a higher priority for the regional authority than maintaining the coast guard.
The dynamics of PSC activities in Puntland reflect the influence of the area's complex clan politics. The British company Hart was the first company hired in 2000, mainly to protect Puntlands maritime resources against illegal foreign fishing by providing training as well as on-ship support to the local Coast Guard. Hart was a relatively new company at the time, having been founded only two years previously by Lord Richard Westbury, a veteran of the PSC sector and a former Chief Executive of Defense Systems Ltd. According to the initial contract, Hart's operations were to be financed through Puntland's sale of fishing licenses. The company established its main facilities in Bosasso, a city with a different clan composition that the one that the government of Puntland had at the time, and took great care in maintaining a clan balance amongst its local employees. The company's force consisted of 70 men, primarily hired locally, as well as one boat. Their task is best described as daunting; not only did international trawlers frequently enter Somali waters, only to escape into international waters once Hart's coast guard vessels approached, but as Puntland is not an internationally recognised state, the legal status of any vessel caught entering its waters was highly ambiguous.
Initially, the engagement of Hart was very successful: the frequency of piracy declined, and the nucleus of a relatively efficient coast guard was formed, with its spine consisting of British advisors and British-trained Somali militia acting as boarding parties. Perhaps even more significantly, Hart's networks in the United Kingdom, and their experience in using the UK legal system was to provide Puntland with an important victory in the fight against illegal fishing. Initially the rights of Puntland to curtail illegal fishing had been challenged by ship owners who claimed that Puntland, despite having a relatively well functioning administration, was not a state and thus could not wield sovereignty. The argument was that only a Somali state could determine what constituted illegal fishing, and since no state existed, extensive fishing, even to the extent that it threatened the existence of the local fish stock, was allowed. Several of the most notorious ship owners in fact accused the Puntland coast guard of being mere pirates. Hart, however, contacted a British law firm, Hill Dickinson Legal Services, who examined relevant previous court cases in order to challenge this position. When the Puntland coast guard brought in the Spanish ship ‘Alabacora Quatro’, Hart, Puntland, and Hill Dickinson managed to get the ship-owners to settle for a legal arbitration agreement following British law. The resulting legally binding agreement remains confidential. However, according to Hart's director, Richard Westbury, the ship-owners had to pay a substantial compensation (Interview, Westbury, 2008). In this way, the PSC can be seen to have helped strengthened Puntland's authority in the face of a foreign company.
Yet Hart's successes were balanced by considerable difficulties, arising primarily from internal conflicts within Puntland. Some pirate groups were virtually untouchable, since acting against them would disturb the fragile clan balance maintaining peace in the area. Hart also suspected some members of the administration of collaborating with the pirates. Recognising the special circumstances, Hart took a careful and relatively successful step-by-step approach to the problems until 2001–2002. At this point, a short Puntland ‘civil war’ erupted when Puntland's President from the Osman Mahamoud sub-clan, Ali Jama Ali, was elected by the traditional elders, but President Abdullahi Yusuf, of the Omar Mahamoud sub-clan, refused to step down. These local political struggles also divided the Hart trained coast guard, which split into different factions, and when fighting erupted close to Hart's bases of operation, the company decided to withdraw. Peace was re-established in 2002 (lasting until today), and in 2005 Hart challenged the Puntland authorities in court to re-start the still valid contract for training the coast guard. Initially, Hart was supported by the Supreme Court, but several of the judges were then dismissed by the President and the contract was declared invalid. Any analysis of the cause for the intervention of the Puntland President will inevitably have an element of speculation. However, it seems likely that one important factor was that Hart's replacement, SOMCAN, was strongly connected to the Puntland political elite. Moreover, SOMCAN had by then established a clear operational structure that would have had to be disbanded if Hart's contract was reinstated.
SOMCAN had initially been granted a five year contract in 2001. In contrast to Hart, SOMCAN was deeply integrated in Puntland politics, and later encountered serious difficulties because of this. Although being formally registered in the Emirates in 2001, the company's owners originated from Puntland. SOMCAN was led by Canadian-based Abdiweli Al Taar and represented in Puntland by his brother, fishing entrepreneur and former navy officer Xiif Ali Taar. The Taars were ardent supporters of Abdullahi Yusuf during the clashes of 2001–2002, indeed they were members of Yusuf's own clan, and Xiif Ali Taar remained a key military advisor for Yusuf, the current President of the TFG. The company promised to generate its own income through the lucrative sale of fishing rights, thus not drawing upon the meager income of Puntland.2 SOMCAN already had a significant fishing fleet in Puntland waters, and this fleet was heavily armed in order to counter the threat of pirates. In forming the new private coast guard, SOMCAN utilised some of these vessels. During the duration of their contract, the size of the company's forces varied slightly, but was significantly larger than Hart's and consisted of about 400 men, one large boat and five smaller (18–20 feet) vessels. The company had some notable successes, and managed to stop an attempt by CARMO Express, a Philippines flagged ship, to dump livestock with infectious diseases in Puntland by actively and successfully tracking the ship over time (Puntland Post, 2003). However, the company faced significant problems arising largely from the fact that the leaders of SOMCAN had a different clan background than many of the local fishermen, who soon accused SOMCAN of collecting illegal fees from them. SOMCAN also attempted to enforce a licensing system for subsistence fishermen, and as a result, grew increasingly unpopular.
On 8 January 2005, Mohamoud Musse Hersi ‘Adde Mussa’ became President of Puntland. Adde Mussa had a different clan background than the Taars, and the previously close and cordial relationship between SOMCAN and the Puntland administration rapidly crumbled. The relationship was further damaged by what seems to have been a mere accidental clash between SOMCAN and government forces, when local police in Bosasso chased street thugs past the Taar residence, and the noise from the police chase caused the SOMCAN militia to believe that they were under attack. About 200 members of SOMCAN's force clashed with the police, and two policemen were wounded. The already grave situation escalated when the security forces replied with a massive attack on Xiif's guards, who worked directly with (or in) SOMCAN's coast guard. At one point, even the Puntland military forces entered the scene, and the tension was only defused after both President Adde Mussa and traditional leaders in Bosasso intervened. However, the incident seriously hampered cooperation between the local police forces and the firm. It also draws attention to the extent to which SOMCAN was in effect not an independent private security company, but instead more akin to a militia, embedded in local clan rivalry. It thus easily became entangled in local power politics, and subsequent newspaper accusations of improper connections between the company and the Puntland administration significantly damaged SOMCAN's legitimacy as a bona fide coast guard both domestically and internationally.
The reputation of SOMCAN was also marred by accusations of piracy. In March 2007, three Puntland coast guard officers, trained by SOMCAN, were arrested by an international anti-pirate force led by US naval vessels. The arrest followed a complaint by Vichart Sirichai-ekkawat, owner of Sirichai Fisheries Co. in Thailand, who claimed that 26 crewmen on board his ship had been illegally detained by the three coast guard officers in Puntland waters and that a ransom of US$800,000 had been demanded (SomaliUK, 2007). The three suspects had been sent by the Puntland authorities to provide security to the Thai vessel fishing in the special economic zone under an agreement between Mr Vichart's firm and Somali authorities. SOMCAN initially claimed that the incident was a product of poor communication and misunderstandings, but failed to provide any help to the three officers, who stood trial in Thailand and were sentenced to 10 years in Thai prisons.
In the end, as a consequence of shifting clan politics and accusations of piracy, SOMCAN failed to get its contract renewed.3 Ironically, then, what earned the company the contract in the first place, namely clan politics, was ultimately also to end its engagement in Puntland. This in turn points to an important factor in assessing the effect of PSCs on local politics and political authority. Unlike its predecessor Hart, SOMCAN was deeply embedded in local clan politics. While the company did to a significant extent succeed in preventing illegal fishing during the duration of its contract, its effect on political stability and institution building is much more questionable. Certainly, the company was not in a position to bring Puntland the international legal victories that its predecessor Hart had delivered, and it seems that the activities of SOMCAN contributed to instability and had a negative impact on Puntland's international reputation.
In December 2005 Puntland signed a contract with Al Hababi Marine Services, led by the Saudi entrepreneur Qalid Mohamed Al-Hababi, granting the company responsibility for guarding its coastal waters, as well as the right to issue fishing licenses and promote fishing in Puntland waters. The company claims to employ some 1,000 soldiers, mostly from the Bosasso area, as well as several Egyptian advisors. Al Hababi has three new coastal patrol vessels, several smaller craft, and is in the process of building nine radar equipped bases on the coast of Puntland. In April 2007, the Al Hababi supported coast guard went on the offensive against illegal fishing vessels, and during a 48-hour intensive patrolling period, 13 Yemeni and Egyptian ships were captured, the first notable success in the company's effort to curtail illegal fishing.
However, the operations of private security companies in Puntland remain complex and controversial, and are inevitably embedded in local clan politics. Al Hababi employs a member of President Adde's local sub-clan as a local representative, and works closely with the President. The ownership structure of the company remains hidden, sparking rumours that several members of the Puntland government are shareholders in the company. As such, the borders between the PSC and the Puntland authorities appear blurred, and the President has been accused by his own Minister of Fisheries of spending too much money on Al Hababi. The issue, in other words, has been interpreted locally within a clannish framework, and Al Hababi Marine Services is perceived as tied to the President's clan, giving rise to accusations the President is giving the company a free a rein in order to pursue personal clan interests (Garowe Online, 2007). While it is too early to judge the impact of Al Hababi's impact on political stability and institution building, the company's behaviour to date seems to indicate that it is likely to become embedded in local political struggles.
The history of PSCs in Puntland is dominated by the interactions between international networks and highly local politics. The British firm Hart Security had strong international networks, and employed legal advisors from the UK. In this sense, Hart is an example of a PSC acting to empower local governance structures by enabling them to tap into wider international resources well beyond the narrow field of physical security. However, the company's distance from local elites was also its weakness, ultimately eroding its ability to operate in the complex and often conflictual milieu of Puntland politics. Hart's two successors were by contrast closely affiliated with the governing elite in Puntland. At one level, this provided a more stable local basis for their activities. Yet changes in political alliances and elites automatically created problems for both SOMCAN and Al Hababi. The companies were perceived as part of local politics, and this damaged both their ability to act effectively locally, and their reputation as legitimate international actors in the effort to combat illegal fishing and piracy. All these companies recorded some, perhaps temporary, success in the prevention of the depletion of the fish stocks adjacent to north-eastern Somalia, but their successes and limitations reflect the complex relationships between private security actors and political authority in the entity.
PSCs in Central Somalia
The TFG of Somalia was established during the 2002–2005 peace process in Mgabhati/ Nairobi, a process led by the Government of Kenya under the auspices of the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD). In 2004 Abdullahi Yusuf Ahmed was elected as Transitional Federal President of Somalia. A 275 member TFG was formed, as well as the other Somalia Transitional Federal Institutions (TFIs). Although being internationally recognised as the sovereign authority of the whole of Somalia, the TFG was in a much weaker position than Puntland and in 2004 the government did not control a single city in Somalia. Since the Ethiopian intervention in Somalia in late 2006, however, the TFG has expanded its control, but it remains totally dependent on Ethiopian support.4
Given its administrative and political weakness, it is perhaps not surprising that the TFG looked to the private sector to enhance its maritime security. Its original choice of partner, however, was somewhat surprising. In 2005, an American company, Top Cat Maritime, approached the government and offered to provide services to the non-existent TFG coast guard. Despite defining itself as a security company, Top Cat Maritime had little security experience. Indeed, the head of the company, Mr Peter Casini, was a speedboat designer, and apart from supplying high power speedboats to law enforcement departments in the United States, the company appears to have little, if any, experience in the field of security provision. Nevertheless, Top Cat actively lobbied the Somali President, the Prime Minister and Minister of Fisheries, Hassan Abshir, as well as his deputy, Vice-Minister Abdulqadir Nur Harale in pursuit of a contract (Interview, Harale, 2006). According to Mr Harale, the government was approached by Mr Casini in late February 2005, who offered the TFG a five year contract under which Top Cat would provide a number of speed boats, four ex-Russian helicopters, and five bases, none of which were in areas militarily controlled by the government.5 In terms of payment, the suggestion was that Top Cat's services would be financed through government collected fees from fishing rights. Top Cat expected 60% of the collected fees in the first year of the contract, 40 per cent the following year and thereafter declining to 10 per cent. The TFG, however, had doubts about the viability of the company's plan, especially regarding the ability of the speedboats designed by Casini to survive the harsh Somali seas. Hence, the government wanted to inspect Top Cat's facilities in the United States, a request that was refused by the company. As a result, negotiations collapsed.
A few months later, Top Cat again approached the Minister of Fisheries regarding the contract, this time claiming that the TFG would not have to allocate license fees to the company. Instead, Top Cat claimed that major funds were to be provided by the Government of the United States (Interview, Harale 2006). The Minister, Hassan Abshir, subsequently convinced the Somali Cabinet that the deal with Top Cat was a cheap way for the weak TFG to acquire the means to patrol Somali territorial waters, neglecting to pursue the issue of the weak boat design further. Importantly, however, Top Cat did not have the American support they claimed. A senior official at the US Embassy in Nairobi confirms that it was approached by the company, but claims the any financial assistance was refused (Interview, anonymous US Embassy Official, 2006).
The contract, estimated to be worth US$50milllion, created much debate within the Somali cabinet (Somaliland Times, 2005; BBC, 2005; Daily Nation, 2005). Several newspapers in Kenya, the US and Somalia also claimed that Top Cat had a troubled financial past and that its management had gone through a number of bankruptcies while in charge of other firms (The Post and Courier, 2004; Somaliland Times, 2005; Daily Nation, 2005). Indeed, Top Cat probably failed to appreciate the extent and difficulty of the task they were supposed to undertake, and in May 2006, they declared the contract invalid. The company failed to provide even a single training facility in Somalia, and importantly, the establishment of several of the bases suggested by Top Cat seems to have been almost impossible. For example, the establishment of a base in Merka would at the time have been likely to lead to confrontation with one of the strongest warlords in Somalia, Yusuf Indaadde. Mogadishu was also beyond the control of the government, at the time containing some of Somalia's strongest warlords, mostly hostile to the government, as well as equally hostile jihadist factions.
The case of Top Cat illustrates the diversity of companies seeking to exploit opportunities in weak states by casting themselves as ‘security’ firms. Top Cat clearly regarded Somalia as a lucrative market, where rules and regulations could be more easily set aside. But the company was not in any clear, recognisable sense a ‘security’ firm. It possessed little or no experience in providing maritime security, let alone in East Africa's relatively lawless waters. It appears instead to have been a company ‘on the make’ in Somalia's turbulent and fragmented political environment, one that sought to exploit a weak government and that showed little regard for, or understanding of, the political stability of Somalia.
Top Cat's replacement was the Northbridge Service Group, a firm infamous for its dramatic public relations strategies, which included an offer to kidnap Liberian President Charles Taylor in 2003.6 Northbridge signed a US$77million contract with the TFG, a sum which the TFG was supposed to raise from donors (Interview, Kovacic, 2008). However, Northbridge itself was also actively participating in the fundraising process, attempting to secure financial support from the United States, and later also from a Chinese oil company, but without success (Interview, anonymous Northbridge employee, 2006). Northbridge's argument in seeking financial support for the contract was that their involvement would protect non-Somali powers against piracy attacks, as well as prevent terrorist groups from using Somali waters. Similarly, a series of development arguments were advanced, with Northbridge maintaining that they would prevent Somali fish stocks from being misused, and that stability in Somali waters would facilitate foreign investment in the country. The company's plan was to train a force of 900 men as a rapid deployment force for the TFG. According to the company, 200 non-Somalis were ready by 2007, but they were never deployed in the country, nor did the company ever visit the country, instead basing itself in Kenya. Northbridge claimed that they wanted to assert full control over the territorial waters outside Somaliland and Puntland, a plan that could potentially have led to conflict between the weak TFG with its estimated 900 men force, and Puntland's 3,200 men, as well as Somaliland's 7,200 strong army.
Although contracts were signed, both Northbridge and Top Cat's plans never made it beyond the drawing board. Both companies actively tried to raise funds from non-Somali sources, arguing that they could handle tasks that would benefit not only the new Somali government, but also non-Somali powers and the international community. But rather than attracting support from Western governments, the fact that the TFG and Puntland simultaneously hired different PSCs caused some international concern, as the two entities at times refused to acknowledge each other's rights to natural resources (Hansen, 2006). As relatively ‘freelance’ or entrepreneurial companies lacking clear connections to state structures, neither Top Cat nor Northbridge seem to have been able to convince donor states of the merits of their proposals.
The rise of the Sharia courts of Mogadishu provided the TFG and Puntland with a common enemy, and led to a less conflictual relationship between the two authorities. The rise of the Sharia courts also created new opportunities for PSCs in Somalia. Believing that the Sharia courts would draw the attention of United States, and that Somalia would become a new frontline in the so-called war on terror, many PSCs expected funding for activities in Somalia. Companies such as the American Select Armour and ATS Worldwide embarked on an active lobbying effort targeting the TFG, the United Nations and the United States, but failed in their efforts to attract funding. Northbridge also mounted a new funding offensive, according to Northbridge's leader Robert W. Kovacic, sending weekly e-mails to the Secretary of State for African Affairs, Ms Jendayi Fraser, asking for funding, but receiving no replies (Interview, Kovacic, 2008). Given that the UN arms embargo of Somalia had been lifted in late 2006 in order to allow arms support for the TFG forces in their battle against the Sharia courts, the embargo could not have been the reason for the US's refusal to support Northbridge, as well as the other companies pressing for contracts during the late autumn of 2006 and the winter of 2007.
The continuing failure to gain external state support seems to indicate the reluctance of donor states to fund PSC activities along these lines. The United States is of course no stranger to the use of private security companies in Africa, and has also employed one of its main contractors, DynCorp International in Somalia (see Aning, Jaye & Atuobi, this issue & McFate, this issue). The differences between DynCorp and Northbridge, however, are numerous and important to an understanding of the relationship between states and private security companies. A main difference lies in the task DynCorp was hired to perform. DynCorp was tasked to aid the African Union peacekeepers in Mogadishu, performing logistical tasks such as providing supplies to the forces. In other words, the company was to support an internationally sanctioned operation, as opposed to the more ad hoc contract between the TFG and Northbridge. The Mogadishu peacekeeping mission became operational in March 2007, initially consisting of a Ugandan contingent of around 1,600 soldiers, and later also including a Burundian contingent. Although supposed to be neutral, the AU forces provided de facto support to the TFG as the internationally recognised government, and also to their main allies, the Ethiopian forces based in Mogadishu. The Ugandan forces established perimeter defences around the Mogadishu seaport, Mogadishu airport and the presidential palace in the city, while simultaneously allowing the TFG and its institutions to administer these key strategic areas, which had been the target of frequent rebel attacks. Restricted frequencies of patrols mean that the local population rarely sees the AU forces, and as such the AU operation is in many ways largely irrelevant for local security. It is, however, protecting key installations used by the TFG; a government that is hostile to the more extreme Islamist groups in Somalia, which the United States in turn suspects of protecting Al-Qaeda members (State Department, 2006). As such, there is a clear link between the AU mission, the employment of DynCorp and US national interest in the Horn of Africa.
Another notable difference between Northbridge and DynCorp is the latter's close relationship with the American state (see McFate, this issue). The State Department has previously hired DynCorp to provide support and training to military forces in more than 11 countries, including Iraq, Afghanistan, Bosnia, Haiti, and Israel-Palestine. In 2004, DynCorp signed an umbrella contract with the State Department for ‘peacekeeping, capacity enhancement and surveillance efforts’ in Africa, worth an estimated US$20-$100million, depending on the number of assignments (Thomlinson, 2007). DynCorp's Somalia operation was part of this umbrella contract, and a significant percentage of the American support for the AU mission was channelled through the company.7 DynCorp was also a veteran in Somalia, having provided logistic support for the ill fated UN peacekeeping mission in Somalia (1992–1995) of ‘Black Hawk Down’ fame. In this setting, DynCorp emerges as key component of contemporary US Africa policy in a way that other companies that sought contracts in Somalia have not.
PSCs in Somaliland
Somaliland offers yet a different illustration of the multiple involvements of private security companies in Somalia. Here, the Norwegian Nordic Crisis Management (NCM) is funded entirely by development assistance from the Norwegian Agency for Development Cooperation (NORAD), a directorate under the Norwegian Ministry of Foreign Affairs. As such, it is in many ways a unique case, and so far the only private security operation in Somalia to be financed solely from development aid. Somaliland, which strives for independence, has a functioning democratic system, and has held three successful democratic elections. It also has a functioning and well structured army, and, compared to many of the recognised states at the Horn of Africa, a relatively free press. In short, Somaliland is in many ways the strongest political entity within the internationally recognised borders of Somalia.
Nordic Crisis Management describes itself as specialising in ‘security and contingency planning’, and has considerable experience in maritime security and security certification processes, aiding the security certification of more than 300 ports in Norway alone (see www.nordic-crisis.no). As such, the company differs from the PCSs discussed above, in that it provides security planning and crisis management as opposed to active security personnel. NCM was hired by Somaliland in July 2006, and the contract is scheduled to continue until 2010. The main aim of the project is to develop a set of security systems for Berbera port and ensure that the port's security meets the maritime standards set by the UN and the International Maritime Organisation (IMO), thereby reducing the insurance costs for shipping companies whose vessels dock in Berbera port and increasing the number of ships using the port. Nordic Crisis Management was also asked by the Somaliland government to evaluate the area's future coast guard requirements, including the production of a feasibility and capacity study regarding the future role and equipment needs of the coastguard.8 As part of the NORAD funded project, the company also trained the harbour's security forces and Somaliland's local police forces (Interview, Francke, 2007).
The activities of Nordic Crisis Management are relatively limited compared to the activities of the other PSCs working in Somalia, and the contract involves only four to five advisors (www.nordic-crisis.no). The contract is nevertheless significant, given Berbera port's vital strategic and economic importance for the region. The port is one of the few large ports serving Ethiopia, and is also of clear strategic importance for the country. Currently, much of the food aid entering land-locked Ethiopia transits through Berbera, and port safety thus has a clear humanitarian dimension. NCM's involvement could also to have positive economic consequences for Somaliland: In 2006, a large container ship worth US$75 million would normally pay about 0.02 per cent of its worth, or $15,000, for an annual insurance policy, which would cover the vessel for unlimited visits to the world's safe ports. However, the ship would have to pay the same amount for every single visit made to a port on the ‘enhanced risks’ list, on which Berbera port featured. As a result, shipping companies such as Maersk and Pacific International Line, which visited the port on average 340 times a year, would incur substantial extra costs. More importantly, the added security expenses would deter other ships from berthing in the port, thus hindering both Somaliland and Ethiopian trade (Norpol, 2006). The perceived economic benefits resulting from improved port security was the motivation for Norway's support of the project, which is seen as enhancing local industrial development and livestock export (Interviews, anonymous NORAD source, 2008). In addition, it was also argued that the project would help prevent piracy, even though piracy is a relatively small problem along the coast of Somaliland.9
The NORAD funded project potentially has significant and positive implications for industrial and trade development in both Ethiopia and in Somaliland. However, it also has military and political implications, in that one part of the project includes examining the future needs of the Somaliland coast guard, a paramilitary organisation consisting of approximately 50 men and nine cabin cruiser-sized boats located at Berbera and three other bases. Politically, it is important to note that through its contract, the NCM provides assistance to a political and administrative structure that most Somalis, as well as all states in the world, have refused to recognise as an independent, sovereign state. Talk of Somaliland independence generally raises anger amongst other Somalis. Norway's support for Somaliland's state-like structures can nevertheless be seen as, and de facto is, support for state building in Somaliland, and the project can be seen to indirectly strengthen Somaliland's claim to statehood. A reduction in the price paid by ship owners to the insurance companies might make Berbera port more significant, perhaps even a rival to the neighboring Djibouti port, and such increased importance might in turn give Somaliland stronger arguments when negotiating for international recognition.
The potential complications arising from the legal status of Somaliland were discussed at the start of the project, and at one point, the United Nations Development Program (UNDP) was considered a possible candidate. Both Norway and the company also imposed conditions on the contract so as to avoid provoking foreign reactions, including restricting the operational area of the coast guard to within 12 nautical miles from the coast (Inte1rview, Francke, 2007). However, it seems likely that the company, as well as NORAD, paid little attention to the potential problems the Somaliland coast guard might face when patrolling in the contested border areas with Puntland, where the two entities have overlapping territorial claims. Moreover, Norway is, indirectly through its support of NCM dealing with a non-recognised entity as if it were an independent state. The latter dilemma has to date been dealt with by silence and discretion by Norway and Somaliland, and a low profile has ensured that neither the Somali, nor Somaliland, nor the Norwegian press have gained interest in the project. Nordic Crisis Management and Somaliland have, however, encountered serious problems from the maritime insurance industry which has refused to treat Somaliland independently of the rest of Somalia, and has maintained that ships docking in Berbera should pay the same price as ships docking in Mogadishu, despite Berbera's internationally recognised and standardised port security system.
Conclusions
This article has demonstrated the difficulty of generalising about the involvement and effects of private security companies in Somalia. While the area is perceived as a lucrative market for private security companies, it is also a difficult and complex operating environment and the record of PSCs is at best mixed in terms of operational success. While the three political entities can be described as ‘weak’ states, no straight-forward conclusion can be made to the effect that the use of private security further undermines public authority and capacity. This may be the case in some instances, but this analysis also illustrates that PSCs can assist aspiring state structures in gaining some de jure aspects of sovereignty. This was most notably the case in Puntland, where Hart Security ensured that the Puntland coast guard was treated as a party in a legally binding arbitration in the United Kingdom, rather than as mere pirates. Similarly, the NORAD financed project to upgrade the security of Berbera port can be said to assist state and institution building in a non-recognised territory.
Overall, it is too early to ascertain the long term effects of the use of private security companies in the three cases. It is clear that the type and professionalism of PSCs operating in Somalia runs the full gamut from large, well-connected companies like DynCorp to small, ‘cowboy’ outfits like Top Cat, which is barely a private security company by any regular definition. There are also significant differences between more risk and consultancy based companies like Nordic Crisis Management and companies like Northbridge or SOMCAN. While some of these companies can facilitate knowledge transfers and access to international expertise, others might be more exclusively concerned with their profit, or lack the expertise and experience to make any positive impact on the security situation. In such cases, the use of private security companies can be counter-productive, further increasing political rivalry and instability. The best example here is probably SOMCAN, which due to its strong local networks came to be seen as a part of local political struggles. Accordingly, it lost both local and international legitimacy as a neutral actor seeking to prevent illegal fishing and piracy.
The case of Somalia thus shows the importance of both local political structures (whether state or ‘quasi-state’) and global connections in determining the impact of private security firms. Somalia's fluid and complex structures of local authorities, along with their limited capacities, provided both market opportunities and obstacles for private actors. At the same time, the activities and impact of private security companies were often influenced by the extent of their global connections; Hart and NCM, for example, were able to mobilise extensive foreign financial and legal support, which may in turn enhance local capacities and institutions. It is, however, too early to draw firm conclusions about the long-term impact of private security on Somalia's fragile authorities. Perhaps at this stage the only certainty is that private security will continue to play a significant role in the region.