So the latest entrant to the Jerusalem embassy club is Somaliland, a self-declared state unrecognised by the United Nations. The ceremony was attended by none other than Israel’s Isaac Herzog, a man who knows a thing or two about disputed sovereignty. And now, the United Kingdom—our own dear Britain—is reportedly lending its weight to Somaliland’s sovereignty push. Is this the dawn of a new age of pragmatic diplomacy, or just another turn in the long, slow decline of international law?
Let us recall, dear reader, that Somaliland seceded from Somalia in 1991. It has since maintained its own government, currency, and a relatively stable peace—a remarkable feat in a region synonymous with chaos. Yet for over three decades, the world has treated it as a non-entity, a ghost state on the Horn of Africa. Now, with Israeli recognition and a Jerusalem embassy, the worm has turned. But at what cost?
First, the embassy location itself is a provocation. Jerusalem’s status is one of the most sensitive issues in international relations. Every embassy planted there is a brick in the wall of pre-1967 borders erasure. Somaliland, desperate for legitimacy, has hitched its wagon to a star that burns bright but dangerously. For the UK to support this move is to tacitly endorse the annexation of East Jerusalem. Is this the new British foreign policy: cynical, transactional, and devoid of principle?
Second, the UK’s backing of Somaliland’s sovereignty push is a textbook case of double standards. Britain preaches the sanctity of territorial integrity in Ukraine, but here it is willing to chip away at Somalia’s. It is the old game of great powers choosing which nations get to exist and which must remain orphans. Somaliland may be a deserving case—functional, democratic, anti-piracy—but so are many other breakaway regions. Where is the principle? Or is it just that Somaliland offers a strategic port on the Gulf of Aden, a nice counterweight to Chinese influence? Ah, realpolitik, the old favourite of decaying empires.
We must also consider the signal this sends to other secessionist movements. From Catalonia to Kurdistan, from Bougainville to Quebec, the message is clear: if you can secure a powerful patron and a symbol like a Jerusalem embassy, the doors of recognition may creak open. Yet this is a dangerous game. The international order we inherited from the Peace of Westphalia was built on the idea that sovereignty is not a la carte. Once you start picking and choosing, you invite chaos.
But perhaps the greatest folly is the assumption that a Jerusalem embassy will bring Somaliland the legitimacy it craves. The international community, including the African Union, remains firmly opposed. Most states still recognise Somalia’s territorial integrity. Somaliland may have won a battle, but the war is far from over. And in the meantime, it has made enemies of Somalia, the Arab League, and the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation. For a small, landlocked state dependent on aid, this is not wise.
As for the UK, one wonders if this is part of a broader strategy to pivot away from European norms and embrace a ‘Global Britain’ that makes deals wherever it can. If so, it is a sad retreat from the high-minded liberalism that once defined British diplomacy. We are no longer the nation that stood against the slave trade or championed self-determination; we are now the nation that supports sovereignty for some, not for others, based on whim and expediency.
To put it bluntly: this is the foreign policy of a declining power, grasping at straws and burning principles for short-term gain. The Victorians, for all their imperial sins, at least had the decency to cloak their actions in moral language. Today, we don’t even bother. Somaliland’s Jerusalem embassy is a monument to our age: transactional, cynical, and ultimately hollow. The UK should think long and hard before it wades further into this quagmire. Because once you start breaking the rules, you cannot complain when others break them against you.
