He Died, But the Truth Remains!

General Morgan is gone, but the lesson of justice, memory, and resistance endures — carried by a people who chose history over silence.

On May 28, 2025, General Mohamed Said Hirsi Morgan died in Nairobi at the age of 76. Though remembered by some as a former Somali general and government official, in Somaliland he is remembered as the man who orchestrated the destruction of cities, the deaths of thousands, and the trauma of a generation.

Morgan was not only a senior military commander — he was also the son-in-law of President Mohamed Siad Barre. His position within the ruling elite granted him immense power and protection, which he used to implement a campaign of collective punishment in Somaliland.

In 1986, Morgan authored the infamous “Letter of Death,” a military directive that laid out a genocidal policy against the Isaaq population of Somaliland. It called for the dismantling of entire communities, the targeting of civilian infrastructure, and the systematic erasure of a people. It was not war — it was extermination.

By 1988, those words became action. Under Morgan’s command, Hargeisa and Burao were bombed from the air and shelled from the ground. Civilian homes, markets, schools, and mosques were destroyed. More than 50,000 people were killed. Over 500,000 fled to refugee camps across the Ethiopian border. Hargeisa — the capital of Somaliland — was left in ruins, with nearly 90% of the city flattened.

These events are not folklore. They are documented facts. Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International, and a United Nations investigation have all confirmed the systematic nature of the violence. It was genocide — and yet, there was no international tribunal, no domestic justice, and no formal accountability.

Morgan never faced trial. He lived freely, ran for office in Puntland, and remained politically active for decades. In Somalia, political culture shielded him. Many remembered his uniform, not the graves he left behind. His connection to Barre and his role in the military were honored by some, while his atrocities were denied, downplayed, or erased altogether.

But Somaliland remembered. This is where cultures diverged. Where silence protected power elsewhere, Somaliland preserved the truth. Not to hate — but to heal. Not to dwell — but to ensure that history would never be repeated.

The memory of Morgan’s crimes has been kept alive through witness testimony, documentation, oral history, and education. In Somaliland, remembrance is not a political tool — it is a civic duty. Justice did not come through courtrooms. It came through memory, and the unwavering refusal to forget.

General Morgan is gone. But the era of violence he helped shape is still remembered. He ordered destruction, fled from justice, and died unpunished. Yet history did not forget. In Somaliland, his legacy is not erased — it is preserved as a lesson. Not to seek revenge, but to remind future generations of what must never happen again.

His death also carries historical weight because of its timing. Morgan died just three days before May 31 — the anniversary of the 1988 SNM-led liberation of Hargeisa. A few days later, Morgan fled — just as his father-in-law, Siad Barre, had done before him — leaving behind a city scarred by the very bombardment and genocide he had helped unleash.

That was the turning point. It marked not just the retreat of a brutal regime, but the beginning of Somaliland’s rebirth. From the ashes of war came a commitment: never again.

Today, nearly four decades later, Morgan is gone. But the truth remains — carried in mass graves, in the memories of survivors, in the testimonies of mothers and sons, in the silence of those who never returned. And now, it must live on in the hearts and minds of the new generation.

We share this story not to dwell on wounds, but to ensure they are never reopened by ignorance or silence. Remembering Morgan’s legacy is not an act of vengeance — it is an obligation to truth. It is how Somaliland honors its past, protects its dignity, and guides the conscience of future generations. In a world where power often buries accountability, Somaliland has chosen remembrance as resistance. Because we understand one thing clearly: a people who remember cannot be broken — and a nation built on truth will never be erased.