The offensive al-Shabaab launched in late February 2025 marks its most ambitious push in years, reversing government gains and reasserting control in swathes of central and southern Somalia. The rapid loss of government control underscores the deep structural weaknesses in the Somali state and the failure of international military strategy.
Al-Shabaab’s territorial gains come as Somalia is entering a period of profound political and institutional transition. With elections looming and international donor support wavering, the state is more politically exposed than it has been in years. There is an urgent need to rethink how international partners engage with Somalia. The current approach — backing a fractious, fragile central government with shrinking territorial control and minimal political leverage — is no longer sustainable. A more realistic strategy would require shifting away from military-first frameworks and laying the groundwork for a more durable political settlement, including engagement with al-Shabaab.
In late February 2025, al-Shabaab launched coordinated attacks targeting Jowhar, Adan Yabal, and Adale in Middle Shabelle and Hiraan and Afgooye districts in Lower Shabelle, along with Bulo Burde and key areas east of the Shabelle river in Hiran. The offensive hit from multiple directions, stretching government forces and allied clan militias to the breaking point. This was not a surprise offensive as probing attacks began in January, but the government has yet to launch a coordinated counteroffensive. Although airstrikes by the government and international partners and sporadic local counterattacks have slowed the advance, al-Shabaab reclaimed territory it had not held since 2019 and is creeping closer to the capital, Mogadishu. This resurgence also reflects a critical shift in the group’s posture: After a year of calculated restraint, al-Shabaab has returned to large-scale operations, with a clear strategy to recapture and govern territory.
A Broken Clan Uprising
Al-Shabaab’s resurgence would have seemed unlikely a year or two ago. In mid-2022, an uprising against al-Shabaab by the Macawiisley — a clan-based armed group — backed by the Somali National Army and the African Union, had pushed al-Shabaab out of large parts of central Somalia.
The Somali government promised improved security and basic services in the so-called liberated areas of Hirshabelle and Galmudug, but had no clear implementation plan. Promises went unfulfilled while the government-backed clan offensive continued to expand. Some residents who had initially welcomed government forces soon expressed regret. Many compared the clan militias’ extortion and lack of cohesion unfavorably to al-Shabaab’s more consistent, if harsh, taxation and judicial practices. Many of these places are now back under al-Shabaab control.
While the Somali government’s strategy drew on clan ties to generate local momentum, it failed to pair military success with political and clan reconciliation. In several cases, the government arrested clan elders who previously supported al-Shabaab but wanted to reconcile with the government. Old clan grievances soon erupted into violence, with the government unable to quell these conflicts in the way that al-Shabaab had — usually through a blend of its sharia courts, local governance, and brute force.
While al-Shabaab was significantly weakened, it was not quite the rout that it seemed. As Mohamed Mubarak and I warned at the time, al-Shabaab was betting that the government would once again fail to keep regained areas for much longer. After all, the group exploited residents’ disillusionment with the government’s broken promises when it infiltrated these areas in the past. In several places, al-Shabaab withdrew on its own terms, relocating fighters, displacing civilians further into cities or into al-Shabaab territory — thus depriving the government of the population it hoped to turn — or embedding operatives in the population left behind. The group also began preparing for the moment when government forces would be most exposed.
That moment came in August 2023, when al-Shabaab overran three Somali military bases in Oswein, north of Mogadishu, killing between 150 and 178 fighters. By this point, the overextension of government forces had strained logistical capacities, making it difficult to resupply or support front-line units with adequately trained reinforcements. The government publicly denied the losses, to which al-Shabaab responded with video of captured vehicles and soldiers. These and subsequent hit-and-run attacks undermined public confidence in the government’s ability to maintain security.
A planned second phase of the campaign, dubbed Operation Black Lion, would have enlisted forces from Kenya, Ethiopia, and Djibouti to push further south into al-Shabaab strongholds. It never materialized. Infighting between federal and regional authorities stalled coordination, and international backing evaporated along with the campaign’s momentum.
Al-Shabaab Adjusts
The source of al-Shabaab’s resurgence has less to do with its military capacity than in its ability to govern and control populations. While scholars have documented the group’s local governance structures and its manipulation of clan politics, much of the international policy discourse has remained fixated on military capabilities, territorial control, and counterterrorism metrics. This tends to obscure the importance of al-Shabaab’s careful management of local governance and clans, enabling the group to exploit local grievances and co-opt clan elders into running its taxation and governance systems. This creates both incentives for cooperation and a measure of local legitimacy. The central government has little presence in much of rural Somalia, often leaving al-Shabaab as the only functioning authority.
In recent months, the group has ramped up a familiar tactic: negotiating local power-sharing agreements. Al-Shabaab offered Macawiisley fighters reconciliation and allowed them to keep their weapons in exchange for standing down. Al-Shabaab often trades leniency in exchange for compliance initially only to crack down later, but this level of mercy is unusual. Clan elders and others I spoke with from Adan Yabal and nearby areas recently retaken by al-Shabaab recounted a familiar pattern. Al-Shabaab had contacted them by phone, warning them of their return, and assuring them everything would be fine — so long as they complied.
There are other signs that al-Shabaab has adjusted its public engagement strategy. In April, it lifted a nearly decade-long blockade in South West state, just before it reduced its force presence there to redeploy to the Shabelle region, closer to Mogadishu. Al-Shabaab has encouraged residents to remain in the areas that come under its control. Rather than forcibly displacing locals as the group has done in the past, al-Shabaab appears more willing to accommodate some local demands and soften its rules in order to maintain control and legitimacy.
In late April, a wave of rumors swept through social media, the Somali government, and diplomatic circles suggesting that al-Shabaab was preparing to attack Mogadishu. While no assault occurred, the speculation revealed the lack of confidence in the government’s ability to defend the capital. Al-Shabaab added to the confusion by promising clan relatives inside the government that they would not be targeted if they stood aside or cooperated with the group.
Al-Shabaab attacks inside Mogadishu had dropped sharply since early 2023 and many foreign observers viewed this as a sign of government success. Instead of routine bombings, al-Shabaab began carrying out less frequent but more symbolic, high-profile attacks aimed at undermining the government’s authority. The March 2025 improvised explosive device attack on the president’s motorcade and the May 2025 attack on a Mogadishu army recruitment center further eroded public confidence in the government and stoked fear of al-Shabaab.
Internal Trouble
The Somali government is straining under the weight of the country’s long-running internal tensions. The current political settlement, established after years of conflict and negotiation between rival factions, is based on a delicate, often fraught, balance between the country’s major clans and its regional power centers. Somalia consists of six federal member states, one of which, Somaliland, is an unrecognized de facto independent state.
Somalia is facing three major elections over the next 18 months: local council elections in June 2025, state-level elections in November 2025, and federal parliament and presidential elections sometime in 2026. Somali president Hassan Sheikh has insisted on a one-person, one-vote system, which hasn’t been attempted since 1969 (indirect elections have been the norm). Sheikh’s political opponents — most of them former allies — view the effort as a power grab, especially as the 2026 presidential and parliamentary elections are to be managed by an electoral commission appointed by the president himself. Sheikh’s quest to centralize authority risks destabilizing the federal system. Moreover, it is practically and politically unfeasible to hold such a vote legitimately. It’s unlikely that Puntland or Jubaland will participate, as their leaders view the elections as illegitimate. Al-Shabaab has a history of attacking elections, meaning that voting is unlikely to happen in many areas in south-central Somalia under the group’s control.
Sheikh’s coalition has become ever smaller and more inward-looking, leaving him with a narrow set of transactional alliances. One member of the federal parliament described this dynamic as a “dangerous slide toward centralized authoritarian rule” that threatens to undo a decade of political reconciliation. The U.S. State Department has warned the Somali president against decisions taken “without broad based support.” Sheikh’s recent moves have resulted in a central government with shrinking legitimacy ruling over an increasingly fractured state. This has direct consequences for the fight against al-Shabaab. Sheikh has alienated would-be key allies in south-central Somalia. Some clan elders, once integral to the fight against al-Shabaab, have stood down or quietly aligned with the group.
Meanwhile, the Somali army remains in a dire state. It is fractured, dysfunctional, and heavily relies on the African Union mission and other international support. Al-Shabaab has widely infiltrated the army’s ranks. Morale across its units is low, eroded by cuts in aid, uncertain political transitions, widespread distrust, and the constant threat of retaliation by al-Shabaab. This does not bode well for mounting long-term resistance to al-Shabaab.
There are signs that some Somali political elites do not view al-Shabaab as an existential threat. Instead, they appear to treat the group as one of many entities competing for influence and resources in an already fractured political landscape. Many government elites now view Ethiopia as the main enemy as well as those who criticize the president’s handling of security. For many Somali elites, the Somali state tends to be a vehicle through which to accumulate wealth, not necessarily an institution with values to be defended at all costs. If al-Shabaab were to rise to power, such elites may assume that the rules of the game will remain roughly the same, and they can continue to benefit — so long as they switch sides in time.
External Issues
Somalia faces multiple transitions beyond elections. The United Nations special political mission, in place under various mandates since 2013, will leave the country by late 2026. As the main platform for political engagement and coordination, Somalia will lose a neutral mediator at a time of deep political fragmentation. Meanwhile, the peacekeeping mission transition from the African Union Transition Mission to Somalia to the smaller African Union Support and Stabilization Mission in Somalia has stalled and funding is in doubt. Planned force reductions have been delayed due to the deteriorating security and African Union force stipends have not been paid for months. The African Union Support and Stabilization Mission in Somalia will require nearly $1 billion to function, plus $96 million to cover unpaid arrears from its predecessor mission. The European Union and African Union would prefer that 75 percent of funding come from U.N. member state assessed contributions and the remaining 25 percent given by bilateral donors. This funding arrangement requires U.N. Security Council approval and the United States, the largest U.N. contributor, is opposed.
Meanwhile, a group of U.S. Republican senators have introduced a bill to freeze funding for Somalia until the European Union and African Union pay what they consider “their fair share.” There are ongoing debates about downsizing U.S. support and diplomatic presence in Mogadishu. It is unclear how long an international peacekeeping mission could last without U.S. and European Union support.
What Now?
There is no military path that leads to the Somali government defeating al-Shabaab under current conditions. Al-Shabaab is advancing, American and European resolve is weakening, and the government is losing ground politically and militarily. Even if the government tries to mount a counteroffensive, the Somali army remains fragmented, under-resourced, and heavily dependent on international support.
Meanwhile, al-Shabaab is deeply entrenched in rural areas and embedded within the political and economic fabric of Somali society. Without a functioning political consensus, credible governance in retaken areas, or sustained support from key constituencies, military gains are unlikely to hold. International strategy has for too long been premised on the hope that incremental progress will eventually cohere into a functioning Somali state. That is no longer realistic.
Amid increasing disillusionment with the Somali government, one possible scenario is that of a sudden and complete U.S. disengagement. The Washington Post recently reported a conversation in which White House staffers openly contemplated what would happen if “we just let [Somalia] burn?” Full U.S. disengagement could precipitate the withdrawal of other key partners, such as the European Union and Turkey, which would severely weaken the central government. Even in the best case, where some funding or U.S. military support continues, it won’t be enough to overcome the deep divisions and dysfunction in the government.
While the collapse of the Somali state is hardly imminent, the upcoming elections could descend into political violence among the government factions. If international backers such as the United States do little to intervene, this could be profoundly destabilizing. Major clans and influential businessmen, long disillusioned with the government, may side with al-Shabaab. Al-Shabaab could exploit these ties to encourage mass defections from the country’s security forces, accelerating the government’s collapse. As the Hayat Tahrir al-Sham and Taliban victories in Syria and Afghanistan, respectively, have shown, al-Shabaab’s path to power may lie in waiting until the government’s international backers are looking for the exit and its security forces are too demoralized to put up a fight.
One alternative is a political settlement with al-Shabaab, but whether such an agreement is feasible remains an open question. The problem is that donor states have prioritized military options while neglecting serious peace diplomacy. The dominant view among Western states has been that engagement is impossible, either because the group is irredeemable, given its alliance with al-Qaeda, or because talks would legitimize its territorial hold on roughly one-third of the country. But that avoids the harder question: What could al-Shabaab gain through formal negotiations that it is not already getting through force and strategic alliances with local clans?
At present, there is no political counterweight strong enough to compel the group to the table. Even if there were, direct negotiations between al-Shabaab and the government are unlikely given how divided the government is. Al-Shabaab has been quietly negotiating with actors inside Somali ministries and security forces and wider society for years — coercively, tactically, and with growing success. The group has laid political foundations that extend deep into clan networks, economic systems, and the state itself.
If the current trajectory continues, al-Shabaab’s position will only strengthen. But there is still an opportunity to avert the worst if Sheikh reverses course. Rebuilding political consensus among the central government, key federal member states like Jubaland, and major clan constituencies could restore some cohesion and help reenergize the fight against al-Shabaab. But that window is closing fast.
Ashley Jackson, Ph.D., is the co-founder of the Centre on Armed Groups, a research associate at the Conflict, Security & Development Research Group at King’s College London, and a research associate at the Centre on Conflict, Development & Peacebuilding at the Geneva Graduate Institute. She has conducted over a decade of field research in conflict zones across Africa and Asia, including in Somalia and Afghanistan.
Image: Shahada News Agency.
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