While the world watches US and Israeli missiles streak toward Iranian targets, a quieter but equally consequential drama is unfolding 500 kilometres from Yemen’s coast—on the shores of northern Somalia.
The night skies over Hargeisa and Berbera have never been busier. For decades, the airport in Somaliland’s capital operated on a predictable rhythm—a handful of commercial flights in the morning, a few more in the afternoon, then silence. But since late February 2026, that rhythm has shattered.
Residents speak of swarms of low-flying aircraft appearing after midnight, long beyond normal operating hours. The traffic is constant, unexplained, and increasingly difficult to ignore. Something is happening in northern Somalia’s breakaway region—and it has everything to do with the war now raging 1,500 kilometres to the north.
On February 28, 2026, the United States and Israel launched “Operation Epic Fury”—a coordinated military campaign against Iran that has plunged the Middle East into full-blown war. Since then, the world’s attention has been fixed on the Israeli-American bombings, Tehran’s retaliation, and the fate of the Strait of Hormuz.
But a secondary front may be quietly opening in the Horn of Africa, centred on an ancient port city with a modern secret.
The Berbera Enigma
Perched on the Gulf of Aden, Berbera has been a strategic prize for centuries. The Ottomans knew it. The British colonized it. The Soviets modernized it during the Cold War, building the longest runway in the region for their military aircraft. After the Ogaden War, the Americans leased it.
Now, the Israelis have taken control of it.
In December 2025, Israel formally recognized Somaliland—a self-declared independent state that Somalia still considers part of its territory. It was a diplomatic bombshell, the first time a UN member state had granted recognition to the breakaway region. At the time, analysts framed it as part of Israel’s broader push for African alliances following the Gaza genocide.
But recognition, it appears, was only the beginning, or rather, was part of a plan whose culmination we are now witnessing.
On January 6, 2026, Israeli Foreign Minister Gideon Saar appeared unexpectedly in Hargeisa alongside Somaliland’s new president, Abdirahman Mohamed Irro. After a brief press conference, Saar and his delegation were reportedly taken to a heavily fortified site on the outskirts of Berbera—a facility that locals and outside observers have been barred from approaching for months.
The site, ringed by high fences and guarded by armed men, had long been a source of speculation. Built by the United Arab Emirates under the guise of commercial development, many suspected it was a logistics hub for UAE operations in Yemen or, more recently, a supply point for the RSF fighters embroiled in Sudan’s civil war.
But after Israel’s recognition of Somaliland—and Saar’s carefully guarded visit—a different picture has emerged. Regional observers now believe the facility is likely playing a role in the broader campaign against Iran, though the exact nature and extent of that involvement remains unclear.
What the Locals See
Interviews with individuals familiar with the situation paint a striking picture of what has transpired since Operation Epic Fury began.
A worker associated with the port facilities described intense and unexplained aerial activity at the base, noting that the volume of aircraft movements far exceeds anything that could be explained by commercial or humanitarian purposes. According to his account, dozens of aircraft of various types arrive at the facility on a weekly basis.
Security analysts have indicated that there is a widespread perception that Israeli military or intelligence personnel have been already operating within the country. The timing of this increased activity—coinciding precisely with the launch of Operation Epic Fury—has only strengthened these suspicions.
Berbera’s geographic position makes its strategic value obvious. Located approximately 500 kilometres in a straight line from Yemen’s Houthi-controlled coastline, it sits at the southern entrance to one of the world’s most contested waterways.
The Houthis have spent the past two years targeting maritime traffic to Israel via the Red Sea, in solidarity with the Palestinians in Gaza who were facing a genocide. They have fired drones and missiles at commercial vessels, forced major shipping companies to reroute, and drawn months of retaliatory airstrikes from American, British, and Israeli forces. Their main port of Hodeidah has been repeatedly bombed.
From Berbera, Israeli forces could monitor—and potentially disrupt—Houthi operations. The facility could support surveillance drone flights, provide refuelling capabilities for aircraft, or serve as a coordination hub for strikes. Its location offers an unparalleled vantage point over maritime approaches to and from Yemen.
For Israel, such capabilities would be invaluable. For the Houthis, they represent an unacceptable provocation.
The Threats Converge
The response from Iran-aligned actors has been swift and unambiguous.
The leader of Yemen’s Houthi movement has declared that any Israeli military presence in Somaliland territory would be treated as a legitimate target for attack. This warning leaves little room for interpretation: if Israeli aircraft are operating from facilities in the Berbera area, those facilities themselves could face drone or missile strikes.
Al-Shabaab, the Al-Qaeda-affiliated militant group that controls significant territory in southern Somalia, has also issued statements opposing any Israeli activity on Somali soil. Such a stance could potentially draw the group into a conflict far beyond its usual areas of operation, with unpredictable consequences for regional security.
Even Djibouti, Somaliland’s neighbour and host to military bases operated by France, the United States, China, and Japan, has expressed serious concern. The Djiboutian leadership has warned that an Israeli military foothold in Berbera would fundamentally destabilize the Horn of Africa, potentially transforming the region into a theatre for proxy conflicts between regional and global powers.
For the residents of Berbera, these threats feel abstract—at least for now. The local administration, noting that population figures and tax revenues have increased substantially since the UAE company DP World assumed management of the port facility in 2016, has expressed optimism about the city’s future trajectory while downplaying concerns about potential attacks linked to foreign military activity.
Somalia’s Diplomatic Bind
In Mogadishu, the federal government faces an excruciating dilemma.
Officially, Somalia maintains sovereignty over all its territory—including breakaway Somaliland. In practice, the Berbera facility operates entirely beyond its control, with aircraft using its runways without Mogadishu’s authorization.
President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud has issued strong condemnations, calling Israel’s recognition of Somaliland “the greatest violation of Somalia’s sovereignty.” He has sought countervailing alliances, travelling to Cairo in February 2026 to bolster defence ties with Egypt—a move that challenges both Ethiopia and Israel’s regional ambitions. Turkey and Saudi Arabia remain important partners.
But Mogadishu cannot confront Washington directly. Trump has repeatedly disparaged Somalia, declaring it “is not even a country” and describing Somalis as “garbage.” Yet the United States remains Somalia’s dominant security partner, conducting regular drone strikes against Al-Shabaab. The group itself emerged from the 2006 U.S.-backed Ethiopian invasion, which crushed the Islamic Courts Union and radicalized the insurgency.
Even the long-standing U.S. “One Somalia” policy—affirming Somali unity—is now under threat. With influential voices in Washington pushing to recognize Somaliland, Mogadishu understands its sovereignty could be undone by its own patron.
Publicly challenging Israeli activities in Berbera would mean challenging the United States. For Hassan Sheikh, that is a line he cannot cross. His strategy, for better or worse, is survival through calculated silence.
The Emirati Connection
None of these developments would be possible without the active involvement of the United Arab Emirates.
The UAE has invested heavily in Berbera since 2016, with its DP World company holding a majority stake in the port development project. Ethiopia, seeking alternative trade routes to reduce its dependence on Djibouti’s ports, holds a significant minority position. Somaliland’s administration controls the remaining share.
But the commercial partnership has always had a military dimension that extended beyond its public face. The UAE maintains its own military facility in the Berbera area, which has been expanded in recent years to accommodate larger aircraft and increased personnel. Regional experts believe the installation now associated with Israeli activity is likely an extension of this Emirati presence—a shared asset in what appears to be a deepening covert alliance.
The UAE normalized diplomatic relations with Israel in 2020 under the Abraham Accords negotiated during the Trump administration. Since then, security cooperation between the two countries has steadily deepened, driven by shared concerns about Iranian influence, Houthi capabilities, and the regional trajectory of political Islamist movements. Berbera may represent the most tangible manifestation of this partnership to date—a forward operating location for operations that neither government wishes to acknowledge publicly.
For the UAE, the arrangement offers significant benefits: Israeli intelligence capabilities and strike assets complement Emirati military resources, and Berbera provides a geographically advantageous platform for both. For Israel, the arrangement offers a degree of plausible deniability while extending its operational reach. For Somaliland’s leadership, it brings international patronage and potentially moves the territory closer to the formal recognition it has long sought.
But the costs of this arrangement remain to be calculated.
What History Teaches
Berbera’s strategic significance is nothing new. During the Cold War era, the Soviet Union upgraded its port facilities and stationed naval assets there. After Somalia’s 1977-78 Ogaden War with Ethiopia shifted Moscow’s regional allegiance toward Addis Ababa, American forces moved in.
The United States used Berbera as a military base for several years, taking advantage of the extensive runway infrastructure the Soviets had constructed. But the arrangement proved temporary, and by the 1990s—with Somalia collapsed into civil war and state collapse—the facility fell into disuse and decay.
Now history appears to be repeating itself, but with a fundamentally different cast of characters. The Soviets are long gone from the Horn. The Americans maintain a major presence in Djibouti but not in Berbera. And now the Israelis have arrived.
What makes this moment different from the Cold War era is the nature of the conflict. The superpower struggle was global in scope but generally fought within understood boundaries. Today’s conflict in the Middle East recognizes no such limits. Iran and Israel have spent years engaged in a shadow war across multiple theatres—cyber operations, targeted assassinations, strikes on maritime shipping. Operation Epic Fury represents an escalation to open confrontation, and its ripple effects are reaching further than most analysts anticipated.
If Berbera becomes an acknowledged Israeli forward operating location, it will also become a target. If it is attacked, Somalia will be drawn into a conflict it never chose and can ill afford. And if that happens, the fragile equilibrium of the Horn of Africa—already tested by Ethiopia’s internal conflicts, Sudan’s ongoing civil war, and Somalia’s own protracted insurgency—could shatter entirely.
The Fog of War
In the absence of official confirmation from any of the parties involved, uncertainty inevitably prevails.
Israel has not acknowledged any military presence in Somaliland territory. The UAE has offered no comment on its facilities in the Berbera area or how they are being used. Somaliland’s political leaders speak in generalities when questioned, emphasizing their desire to contribute to regional stability without specifying how they envision that contribution.
“We want to be part of the solution, not the problem,” the Somaliland president has said—a formulation sufficiently vague to accommodate multiple interpretations.
For now, the aircraft continue to arrive after dark. The armed guards remain at their posts. The perimeter fences stay closed. And the people of Berbera watch the night sky, wondering whether the dawn will bring the development they have been promised or the destruction they have been warned about.
One thing is increasingly clear: the war on Iran has found a new front, and Somalia—whether it chose this role or not—is no longer standing on the sidelines.
This article is based on interviews with regional sources, documentary evidence, and analysis of regional security dynamics.
