Opinion - The Ethics of Post-Clanism: No Excuse, No Advantage

In Somalia, the crisis of clan is not that it exists, but that it has been pushed beyond its natural boundaries. What should have remained a source of memory, belonging, and cultural continuity has too often become a language of complaint in moments of loss and a ladder of advantage in moments of gain. Between these two distortions, the moral balance of both the individual and the state is unsettled

 The problem is not clan identity in itself, but how it is invoked in moments of need and exploited in moments of opportunity. At one moment, it becomes a grievance raised to explain failure; at another, a tool used to secure advantage. Between these two uses, the moral meaning of belonging is gradually eroded.

 When grievance is invoked, the individual is no longer compelled to examine himself. The question of responsibility recedes, replaced by a language of complaint. Failure is explained as the product of presumed injustice rather than possible shortcomings. Over time, this mindset reproduces stagnation instead of overcoming it, confining initiative within the limits of the past. A society that constantly interprets itself through its wounds risks losing its capacity to act, substituting explanation for effort and waiting for work.

 Yet however real history may be, it should not become a permanent constraint. Societies that live within their injuries lose their ability to recover. In this context, clan ceases to be a bond of belonging and becomes instead a framework that limits the individual rather than expanding his possibilities.

 Conversely, when advantage is extracted through clan, the distortion runs deeper. Identity is no longer used to explain failure, but to bypass merit. Competence is replaced by proximity, and justice is subordinated to familiarity. What appears outwardly as solidarity conceals exclusion at its core. In such an environment, the question is no longer “Who is most qualified?” but “Who is closest?”

 This utilitarian use of clan does not remain confined to individuals; it extends into institutions. Favoritism infiltrates hiring, integrity yields to loyalty, and success is redefined in terms of networks rather than capability. In such a setting, it is not only individuals who lose, but the state itself, which forfeits its ability to function with efficiency and fairness. No institution built on affiliation can produce a just order, and no unjust order can sustain stability.

 Thus, clan operates along two seemingly opposite but ultimately reinforcing axes: grievance invoked to justify failure, and advantage seized to override merit. In both cases, the moral balance is disrupted, and the idea of citizenship retreats before narrower loyalties.

 The real challenge, however, is not to abolish clan, but to reposition it. In its original form, clan is not an instrument of power but a cultural structure. It is a repository of memory—stories of ancestors, lineages, poetry, and lived experiences that shape collective consciousness. It is a culture to be narrated, not an authority to be exercised.

 When restored to this meaning, clan regains its original innocence: an identity to be preserved, not a tool to be deployed. It becomes a framework of belonging rather than a mechanism of control. In this form, individuals can belong without allowing that belonging to become an ethical burden or a means of domination.

 The question, then, is not how to eliminate clan, but how to return it to its natural limits. How can it remain a part of memory without being allowed to govern the present?

 The answer begins with the individual and his relationship to identity. One must recognize that belonging is part of who one is, but not a justification for one’s actions. What one has the right to take pride in is not what one has the right to exploit.

 In the horizon of post-clan ethics, identity is not denied—it is disciplined. The individual remains a product of his environment, but not its prisoner. He is aware of his roots, yet does not allow them to determine his moral choices.

 Accordingly, clan must never be the final argument in any decision—whether in hiring, promotion, justification, or protection. Once identity becomes decisive, it loses its cultural character and turns into a corrosive political instrument.

 A public official who privileges his clan over merit does not serve it as he imagines; he harms both it and others. For once justice is compromised, it does not remain partial—it collapses as a system. Likewise, the intellectual who interprets every failure through the lens of identity does not expand understanding; he narrows it, turning thought into justification rather than critique.

 The citizen who seeks advantage through lineage undermines the very principle of equality that was meant to protect him. Rules bent for one are eventually broken for all, and exceptions soon become the norm.