home *** CD-ROM | disk | FTP | other *** search
- <text id=92TT0602>
- <title>
- Mar. 23, 1992: Somalia:I Against My Brother
- </title>
- <history>
- TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1992
- Mar. 23, 1992 Clinton vs. Tsongas
- </history>
- <article>
- <source>Time Magazine</source>
- <hdr>
- WORLD, Page 36
- SOMALIA
- I Against My Brother
- </hdr><body>
- <p>Struggling for power, rival clans turn life in Mogadishu into a
- slow death
- </p>
- <p> Anarchy has a thousand faces in Somalia. The men with the guns
- call it liberation, but it is freedom without responsibility,
- humanity, compassion, future or hope. Freedom to kill and the
- right to die. Freedom to liberate the weak from all they
- possess, wives from their husbands, children from their parents;
- freedom to liberate anyone from the burden of life in a power
- struggle that is destroying the last vestiges of society and
- human dignity.
- </p>
- <p> Duale Noor Sabrie was sitting in his house in Mogadishu
- when the shell hit. Three of his brothers and his oldest son
- were killed. "The place was burning. My wife went in one
- direction; I went in another. It took us one month to find each
- other," he recalls. The family migrated by foot and boat to a
- refugee camp on the Kenyan coast. Sabrie had been a successful
- businessman with cars and servants and thousands of dollars of
- cash in the bank. Now, he says, "I am 56 years old. I cannot go
- home again or start over. Nothing will change in Somalia in my
- lifetime. But I am lucky. I am alive."
- </p>
- <p> For those who remain in Mogadishu, living has become a
- slow death. Crowded into the few buildings still standing,
- women and children forage for food and water. A bag of looted
- U.S. flour is $30, a container of skim milk donated by the
- European Community is $20, and hardly anyone has money for
- either. The distended bellies and red-streaked hair of the
- children signal the malnutrition that is endemic.
- </p>
- <p> The streets are controlled by pickup trucks carrying
- antiaircraft guns and young men--some barely in their teens--with Kalashnikov rifles. Their eyes are bright with the drug
- called kat, their fingers quick on the trigger. Makeshift
- hospitals dot the city; the existing ones were looted long ago.
- The wounded must bring their own beds, so most end up lying on
- the floor, a weeping relative holding aloft their intravenous
- solution--when it is available. Somali doctors and foreign
- volunteers move so quickly from patient to patient that trails
- of blood pattern the floors.
- </p>
- <p> The map of Somalia is a mosaic of clans and subclans. The
- men who captured Mogadishu in January 1991 and put President
- Mohammed Siad Barre to flight belong to the Hawiye clan. The
- northern quarter of the capital is held by the Abagal subclan
- of interim President Ali Mahdi Mohammed. The Habar Gedir subclan
- of General Mohammed Farrah Aidid dominates the southern
- three-fourths. At the beginning of last year, hatred of Siad
- Barre united the groups, but that unity is long gone. Another
- clan has declared an independent Somaliland in the north; yet
- another controls the land south and west of Mogadishu.
- Meanwhile, Siad Barre waits with hundreds of well-armed fighters
- only 125 miles away from the capital.
- </p>
- <p> Two weeks ago, a United Nations-led peace delegation
- brokered a cease-fire--at least the third since September--signed by both Ali Mahdi and Aidid. But the war is far from
- over. Somalians have a familiar proverb--"I and Somalia
- against the world. I and my clan against Somalia. I and my
- family against the clan. I and my brother against the family.
- I against my brother"--and they seem determined to fight their
- way to the very last line.
- </p>
- <p>By Marguerite Michaels/Mogadishu.
- </p>
-
- </body></article>
- </text>
-
-