By Ali Halane - Journalist and Political analyst
"Perhaps the loudest patriots are not always those who carry the heaviest burden of living with the consequences of the politics they passionately advocate."- Ali Halane
Every Somali election season follows a familiar pattern.
As political negotiations intensify, constitutional disputes emerge or tensions rise between the federal government, opposition groups, and regional administrations, social media suddenly fills with voices that had remained largely silent for months—sometimes years.
Opinion pieces appear overnight. Television panels feature the same familiar faces. Livestreams multiply. Political declarations spread rapidly across Facebook, X and YouTube.
Many of these commentators present themselves as guardians of Somalia's national interest, offering detailed prescriptions for how the country should be governed, how negotiations should unfold and what political decisions leaders must make.
Yet once the political temperature cools, many of these same voices disappear until the next crisis.
This is not simply diaspora engagement.
It is a form of seasonal nationalism—a patriotism that becomes highly visible during elections and political confrontations but far less visible during the slow, difficult work of rebuilding institutions, improving education, strengthening healthcare or supporting long-term development.
The issue is not that Somalis abroad speak about Somalia.
They absolutely should.
The Somali diaspora remains one of the country's greatest national assets. Their remittances sustain millions of families. Their investments create businesses. Their expertise has helped rebuild government institutions, universities and hospitals. Many have returned home to serve in public office or contribute to national reconstruction.
None of that should be dismissed.
The real question is different.
How should political commentary be exercised by people who no longer experience Somalia's daily realities?
Politics inside Somalia is not an academic exercise.
For people living in Mogadishu, Baidoa, Kismayo, Dhusamareb, Garowe, Laas Caanood or Beledweyne, political instability carries immediate consequences. It affects security, employment, markets, transportation, education and personal safety.
Political crises are not consumed through livestreams.
They are lived.
Someone living comfortably in London, Minneapolis, Oslo or Nairobi naturally views political confrontation differently from someone whose business may close because roads become blocked, whose children cannot attend school during unrest or whose family lives with the daily uncertainty of insecurity.
Distance inevitably changes perspective.
That does not invalidate one's opinion.
But it should encourage humility.
Instead, election seasons often produce something quite different.
Some long-distance commentators speak with remarkable certainty, portraying complex constitutional disputes as simple battles between heroes and villains. Negotiations become evidence of betrayal. Compromise becomes weakness. Every disagreement becomes an existential struggle requiring immediate confrontation.
Calls for protests, political escalation or uncompromising positions are often made without serious consideration of who will bear the consequences if tensions spill onto the streets.
Those urging confrontation from abroad rarely face the risks themselves.
The people inside Somalia do.
Perhaps the most revealing feature of this phenomenon is its timing.
Where are these passionate nationalists when schools struggle, hospitals lack resources, youth unemployment rises or local governments attempt to improve public services?
Where are the daily discussions about strengthening institutions, reforming the justice system, expanding investment or improving local governance?
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Too often, patriotic energy appears only when political power is contested.
Nationalism becomes event-driven rather than continuous.
This is not unique to Somalia.
Diaspora communities everywhere retain strong emotional ties to their homelands.
Many remain deeply informed and make valuable contributions to national debates.
Indeed, some of Somalia's most important reforms over the past two decades have been driven by Somalis returning with international education, professional experience and financial resources.
Constructive engagement should never be discouraged.
But constructive engagement is different from remote political absolutism.
One seeks solutions.
The other often rewards outrage.
Somalia's political challenges are rarely solved through slogans.
The country's constitutional questions, federal arrangements, electoral disagreements and state-building efforts require negotiation, compromise and patience.
They cannot be resolved through viral hashtags or emotionally charged television appearances.
Today's political environment illustrates this reality clearly.
As political actors negotiate Somalia's electoral future, competing proposals are being debated through dialogue, mediation and compromise. That process is inevitably imperfect and often frustrating.
Yet responsible engagement should encourage practical solutions rather than simply rewarding the loudest voices or the most uncompromising positions.
The question is not whether Somalis abroad should participate in national conversations.
They should.
The question is how.
Should nationalism be measured by the volume of one's political rhetoric during election season?
Or should it also be measured by sustained contributions that strengthen Somalia long after election headlines disappear?
Perhaps Somalia needs less seasonal patriotism and more consistent citizenship.
Less political theatre and more practical engagement.
Less certainty and more listening.
Patriotism is not demonstrated only by speaking passionately about one's country during moments of crisis.
It is demonstrated by remaining engaged when the cameras are gone, the elections are over and the difficult work of nation-building continues.
Because nations are not rebuilt every four years.
They are rebuilt every day.
Ali Halane is a Somali journalist and researcher specializing in African and Middle Eastern affairs. He is a founding member of the Somali Cultural Parliament.
The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Dawan Africa.