A classified intelligence assessment shared with WARYATV reveals growing alarm within Western and Israeli security circles that Pakistan has quietly become Hamas’s newest operational theater, with senior Hamas envoys now openly conducting propaganda, recruitment, and coordination activities across Pakistani soil — often with the implicit blessing of political and religious elites.

At the center of this disturbing network is Naji Zaheer, Hamas’s “special representative” in Pakistan.

Once a fringe figure, Zaheer has, since the October 7 2023 massacre in Israel, emerged as a fixture on Pakistan’s Islamist circuit — appearing at rallies alongside leaders of Lashkar-e-Taiba and Jaish-e-Muhammad, both U.S.-designated terrorist organizations.

His appearances blur the line between political activism and terror coordination.

According to sources briefed on Western monitoring reports, Zaheer’s movements across Peshawar, Karachi, and Rawalakot follow a deliberate pattern: fusing Hamas’s anti-Israel narrative with Pakistan’s jihadist grievances, particularly over Kashmir.

The February 2025 “Kashmir Solidarity and Al-Aqsa Flood Conference”, which gathered Hamas, Pakistani legislators, and Kashmiri militants under one banner, is now viewed in Washington and London as the symbolic moment Hamas and Pakistan’s jihad ecosystem formally merged.

Even more concerning is the role of Pakistan’s Senate, which in early 2024 hosted Hamas representatives including Khaled Qaddoumi, Hamas’s envoy in Tehran.

Intelligence officials say this level of access “would not have been possible without tacit government consent.” The optics — Pakistani lawmakers applauding a movement the West labels a terrorist organization — have badly damaged Islamabad’s standing with counterterror partners.

“Pakistan is no longer just a sanctuary for the Taliban — it’s fast becoming Hamas’s external incubator,” one senior European counterterrorism official told WARYATV on condition of anonymity. “This is not rogue clerics; this is systemic political cover.”

Western security sources are now assessing whether Hamas’s outreach in Pakistan is being quietly backed by Iran’s Quds Force, using Pakistani territory as a safe communications hub and potential recruitment pipeline.

Analysts warn this could compromise Pakistan’s Major Non-NATO Ally status and trigger sanctions under U.S. counterterrorism laws.

Britain’s intelligence community has reportedly begun examining financial flows between Pakistani religious charities and Hamas-linked organizations in Malaysia and Turkey.

U.S. officials, meanwhile, are evaluating whether Pakistan’s tolerance of Hamas envoys violates the FATF (Financial Action Task Force) anti-terror financing obligations that Islamabad only recently escaped.

This would mark a strategic shift: Hamas, bloodied in Gaza, exporting its ideology eastward to rebuild through South Asian Islamist networks.

For Islamabad, the cost could be immense — diplomatic isolation, suspended aid, and renewed counterterror blacklisting.

For now, the message from Western intelligence is blunt: “If Pakistan wants to remain a partner in the fight against terror, it cannot host its architects.”

The recent outburst by Somali Prime Minister Hamza Abdi Barre, urging Somali-British voters to “use your votes to defend Somalia’s unity” against UK MPs supporting Somaliland, has triggered alarm bells inside Britain’s national security architecture.

According to confidential sources within UK intelligence circles, an ongoing inquiry is examining whether Barre’s appeal was part of a foreign-directed influence campaign designed to shape the UK’s parliamentary stance on Somaliland — possibly with the quiet assistance of non-Western powers.

Intelligence Assessment: A Coordinated Incitement

UK investigators believe the Prime Minister’s remarks went beyond typical diaspora outreach.

His speech, amplified through coordinated WhatsApp channels, Telegram groups, and Somali-language Facebook pages hosted outside the UK, had identifiable hallmarks of foreign orchestration — rapid message replication, identical talking points, and cross-platform bot amplification.

One senior UK official described it as “a textbook diaspora activation maneuver — except this time, it came straight from a head of government.”

British intelligence agencies are now tracing funding trails from Mogadishu’s Ministry of Information and the Somali embassy in London to recently reactivated lobbying fronts, some of which appear to share digital infrastructure with influence networks previously attributed to Chinese and Turkish contractors.

Strategic Context: When Aid Turns Against the Donor

The UK has spent over £1.8 billion in development and security assistance in Somalia since 2000 — paying civil-service salaries, training security forces, and bankrolling governance reforms that sustain the very office now accused of subverting British politics.

Analysts warn that Barre’s move risks weaponizing Britain’s own Somali aid investment against it, by mobilizing UK citizens in pursuit of Mogadishu’s foreign-policy agenda.

“This isn’t about Somaliland anymore,” one Whitehall source told WARYATV. “It’s about a foreign leader using British taxpayers’ money — literally — to fund a political campaign targeting British MPs. That’s a red line.”

Shadow Actors: Who Benefits?

Intelligence briefings obtained by WARYATV UK suggest the episode may fit a broader pattern of proxy influence in Western democracies.

China has quietly expanded digital-media partnerships with Somali state broadcasters under its Belt and Road media initiative, providing training on “strategic communication.”

Turkey, a major security patron of Mogadishu, maintains intelligence-sharing protocols with the Somali Ministry of Security.

Russia’s Wagner-linked media outlets have been observed boosting anti-Somaliland hashtags aligned with Mogadishu’s position.

The concern, UK analysts say, is that Barre’s messaging — intentionally or not — could be serving as an open conduit for adversarial states seeking to exploit diaspora divisions and test Britain’s electoral-resilience frameworks ahead of its next general election.

Domestic Fallout: Dividing the Somali-British Community

Inside the UK, the Prime Minister’s appeal has already polarized Somali communities. Somaliland-origin residents report intimidation online and in mosques, while unity-leaning activists claim they are “defending Somalia’s sovereignty.”

Police in London and Birmingham have quietly upgraded community-tension alerts following incidents of verbal threats referencing the PM’s speech.

Security experts caution that diaspora politics — long tolerated as a transnational echo of homeland disputes — is now bleeding directly into Britain’s political ecosystem.

Diplomatic Shockwave

Downing Street has not commented publicly, but insiders confirm that the Foreign Office has lodged a formal expression of concern with the Somali embassy.

The case is expected to trigger a Cabinet Office counter-interference review, similar to those previously applied to Russian and Iranian diaspora networks.

If the probe finds that Somali government officials, knowingly or otherwise, facilitated a campaign targeting UK lawmakers, it could trigger:

Suspension of bilateral aid disbursements to Mogadishu’s central ministries.

Travel-visa restrictions on officials involved.

Expanded foreign-influence registration requirements for UK-based Somali political organizations.

What makes this episode unprecedented is not that a foreign government sought to shape diaspora sentiment — but that a sitting African prime minister openly directed it against a Western parliament, while his administration remains financially dependent on that same Western donor.

If confirmed, it would mark the first instance of an aid-recipient government triggering a counter-interference probe in the UK.

“Hamza Abdi Barre may have misread the moment,” one Whitehall source told WARYATV. “He turned a sovereignty speech into an intelligence incident.”

The Bigger Picture

The UK investigation now underway is quiet but serious. What began as a rhetorical counter to Somaliland’s growing recognition campaign may end as a case study in how fragile African politics can be weaponized inside Western democracies.

As London weighs its next steps, one question reverberates through both intelligence circles and Somali diaspora halls:

Was this Mogadishu’s miscalculation—or someone else’s design?

Sources say Omar was a double agent linked to Al-Shabaab logistics, and the U.S. acted on classified intelligence local commanders never saw.

The killing of Caaqil Omar Abdillahi Abdi in a U.S. airstrike on September 13, 2025, has stirred outrage in Puntland and across the Sanaag region. But beneath the denials and emotional condemnations lies a deeper, more complex reality — one that exposes the intelligence gap between U.S. Africa Command (AFRICOM) and local Somali authorities, and the dangerous consequences of asymmetric information in counterterrorism operations.

WARYATV’s security sources confirm that AFRICOM does not share every layer of intelligence with regional partners, including Puntland’s security and administrative leadership.

The reason, as multiple Western and regional defense officials have explained, is simple: not all intelligence is created equal.

Some operations rely on classified human or signals intelligence (HUMINT/SIGINT) streams that cannot be shared with local counterparts due to risks of compromise or conflicting loyalties within regional forces.

According to sources familiar with the matter, Omar Abdillahi Abdi was not the innocent elder he appeared to be.

Intelligence obtained by WARYATV suggests that Omar had for months operated as a double agent — publicly acting as a community elder and mediator, while secretly facilitating arms shipments and logistics for a shadow network tied to both Al-Shabaab intermediaries and foreign smuggling interests moving through the Gulf of Aden.

AFRICOM’s decision to strike without prior coordination reportedly stemmed from high-confidence intelligence — derived from classified ISR (Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance) assets — that placed Omar at the center of a logistics meeting with known facilitators connected to Al-Shabaab’s procurement wing.

That data, WARYATV understands, was confirmed through multi-source analysis but not disseminated to Puntland’s regional chain of command, precisely to avoid operational leaks.

This explains why Governor Said Ahmed Jama, Brig. Gen. Abdillahi Omar Anshuur (commander of the Puntland Dervish Forces’ 9th Division), and Col. Aden Ahmed Ali (Regional Police Commander) all expressed disbelief and confusion.

They were never briefed on the classified intelligence AFRICOM was acting on — and by design, they couldn’t have been.

U.S. operations often bypass local structures when targets are believed to have infiltrated community or clan leadership circles, a practice intended to prevent counterintelligence compromise.

In this case, it appears AFRICOM’s silence toward Puntland’s leadership wasn’t negligence — it was operational necessity.

The regional authorities, including the Governor’s office and police command, were only informed post-strike, once AFRICOM had confirmed the target’s elimination.

A senior intelligence officer who spoke to WARYATV on condition of anonymity described Omar’s profile as “one of those hard duals — men who speak the language of peace by day but move the currency of war by night.” He added, “AFRICOM had actionable data — signals, phone intercepts, and satellite feeds — that local intel did not have access to. It wasn’t personal. It was procedural.”

This incident underscores the structural divide between foreign precision operations and local governance realities.

Somali commanders must maintain political legitimacy and public trust — but the U.S. military operates under global counterterrorism protocols that prioritize target certainty over local consultation.

The tragedy, however, is twofold: on one hand, the U.S. may have neutralized a covert operator working against national security; on the other, the secrecy surrounding the operation risks alienating the very communities it aims to protect.

As protests continue in Sanaag, the incident highlights a recurring dilemma: when intelligence isn’t shared, truth becomes contested. The local officials may have spoken sincerely — but sincerity doesn’t always mean full awareness.

US Confirms Airstrike Killed Somali Elder, Calls Him Al-Shabab Weapons Dealer

Prominent Badhan Elder Killed in Mysterious Airstrike

Somalia’s Dangerous New Alliance: A Pact That Undermines Regional Stability and Vindicates Somaliland’s Path.

MOGADISHU — Somalia’s newly approved five-year defense pact with Pakistan signals more than military cooperation—it represents a dangerous geopolitical gamble that threatens to destabilize the Horn of Africa and undermine fragile regional security.

The agreement, which includes Pakistani assistance in naval modernization, counter-piracy operations, defense technology transfers, and training for Somali officers, has been celebrated in Mogadishu as a step toward “strengthening sovereignty.”

Yet to regional analysts, the move looks more like a calculated surrender of sovereignty—an open invitation for external powers to turn Somalia’s coastline into a proxy battlefield.

The underlying concern is not merely technical aid; it is the strategic encroachment of Pakistan and its close ally Turkey into the Horn’s maritime domain.

Both nations now seek to expand military and intelligence influence across Somalia’s coastal and naval structures, effectively establishing a new arc of control stretching from the Arabian Sea to the Gulf of Aden.

This alignment places Mogadishu squarely in the crosshairs of South Asia’s enduring rivalry between India and Pakistan—a conflict Somalia has no strategic reason to inherit.

For New Delhi, the agreement is more than an irritant—it is a red flag. Indian officials view Pakistan’s naval expansion into the western Indian Ocean as a direct security threat, especially near vital shipping routes and energy corridors.

By opening its ports and defense institutions to Islamabad, Mogadishu risks transforming its fragile state into a theater for great-power competition, echoing Cold War patterns that left Africa divided and dependent.

This reckless militarization also arrives amid Somalia’s ongoing alignment with China in its diplomatic standoff against Taiwan, further exposing a government driven by transactional alliances rather than coherent strategy.

In a nation still struggling to rebuild governance and trust, these external military ties are likely to deepen corruption, fuel factionalism, and erode national unity.

By contrast, Somaliland’s foreign policy stands out as a model of restraint and foresight. While Mogadishu chases short-term military relevance through risky foreign entanglements, Hargeisa continues to pursue stability through economic diplomacy, transparency, and regional integration.

Projects like the Berbera Trade Corridor, supported by the United Kingdom and private partners, illustrate how Somaliland turns geography into opportunity rather than conflict.

Somalia’s new pact exposes a deeper truth: the difference between dependency and sovereignty. Somaliland’s approach—anchored in peaceful partnerships, open trade, and institutional integrity—offers a vision of regional security built on development, not militarization.

As Mogadishu hands its coastline to foreign powers, Somaliland strengthens its case for international recognition—not through slogans, but through performance.

While Somalia invites instability, Somaliland builds stability.

The United States faces a renewed and dangerous test in the Red Sea. Months of strikes earlier this year damaged Houthi infrastructure but failed to eliminate the group’s threat.

By July, the Houthis had struck two bulk carriers and fired a missile toward Israel, proving their ability to regroup and reminding the world of the limits of short-term campaigns. Behind them stands Iran, which treats the Houthis as a low-cost proxy to bleed American resources, unsettle allies, and disrupt the global economy.

The Bab el-Mandeb Strait carries nearly 15 percent of global trade. Every attack on a ship inflates insurance premiums, diverts traffic around Africa, and pushes up consumer prices worldwide.

The Somali piracy crisis of the 2000s nearly paralyzed maritime trade, but today’s threat is sharper, rooted not in profit but in ideology and geopolitics. Left unchecked, it risks giving both Tehran and Beijing leverage over one of the world’s most vital shipping corridors.

The spring strikes revealed a fundamental imbalance: the cost of each U.S. missile dwarfs the expense of a Houthi drone or rocket, yet the economic and political consequences of disruption far outweigh the Houthis’ losses.

That asymmetry demands a sustained and integrated campaign, not episodic retaliation. Washington must combine persistent military pressure with economic isolation and political maneuvering.

Drone surveillance and precision strikes must be relentless, maritime exclusion zones enforced without hesitation, and cyber operations used to paralyze Houthi command networks.

At the same time, Yemen’s most capable anti-Houthi forces must be strengthened on the ground, from the Joint Forces along the Red Sea coast to tribal militias in Marib. Their progress will deny the Houthis sanctuary and demonstrate that military pressure has political backing.

Economic measures are just as important. Trade diversion through ports like Aden, Mukalla, and Berbera can deny the Houthis customs revenue and reinforce alternatives beyond their reach.

Sanctions must target Iranian shipping and financial networks that sustain Houthi smuggling. Diplomatically, Oman must be pressed to close its border to arms flows, while Gulf allies should be drawn into burden-sharing and legitimacy-building.

Critics warn of escalation, but the greater danger lies in drift. Allowing the Houthis to operate unchecked will deepen instability, embolden Iran, and weaken U.S. credibility at a moment when China is eager to expand its influence over global trade.

The Red Sea is too strategic to leave vulnerable. Victory will require persistence and political will, but the alternative is a cycle of disruption that carries far higher costs.

When Mohamed Ahmed Nur returned home to Quracley in January 2023, the scene was carnage. Three of his sons, all young boys, lay in pieces after a drone strike. The drones overhead weren’t American this time — they were Turkish.

What began in 2011 as Turkey’s “humanitarian mission” during Somalia’s famine has morphed into something far darker: a drone-driven shadow war. From joint operations with Somalia’s NISA to unilateral strikes across Hiiraan and Lower Shabelle, Ankara has embedded itself in the country’s security machinery. Locals now whisper that al-Shabab isn’t the only force killing Somalis — Turkish drones are, too.

Ankara’s drones — Bayraktar TB2s and Akincis — are not just hardware. They are political leverage. They guard Turkey’s largest overseas military base in Mogadishu. They protect Ankara’s oil exploration blocks in Somali waters. And they silence critics who question why Turkish firms run Somalia’s airport and seaport under opaque 20-year leases. When Mogadishu’s attorney general accused these firms of violating profit-sharing deals in 2024, millions in revenue vanished into the fog.

Al-Shabab has noticed. Its suicide bombers have struck Turkish engineers and embassy staff, calling Turkey “a NATO spearhead in Muslim lands.” Each strike Ankara launches inflames the cycle — giving extremists more propaganda and civilians more graves. Amnesty International already accused Turkey of possible war crimes after a 2024 strike killed 23 farmers, including 14 children. Still, no accountability.

This isn’t just Somalia’s tragedy. Turkey has exported the same playbook to Libya, the Sahel, and Ethiopia. What Foreign Policy calls “drone diplomacy” is really neo-Ottoman militarism: aid wrapped in soft power, followed by military bases, arms exports, and resource deals. For a Somali government too weak to hold its own territory, drones are the price of survival. For Ankara, they are the price of dominance.

And so the funerals pile up. Civilians in Quracley, Mubarak, and Afgoye know the truth: Somalia is the proving ground for Turkey’s empire of drones. The West may have left, but Ankara is here to stay — and it is writing Somalia’s war in the smoke of drone strikes.

The Taliban on Sunday flatly rejected President Donald Trump’s declaration that the United States might seek to retake Bagram Air Base, the onetime hub of America’s longest war.

The swift response underscored both the fragility of Afghanistan’s sovereignty under Taliban rule and Washington’s lingering ambivalence about the chaotic 2021 withdrawal.

Trump, during remarks over the weekend, said the U.S. was “talking now to Afghanistan” about regaining Bagram, though he offered no details of such contacts.

He hinted at possible military options, saying only: “We want it back, and we want it back right away. If they don’t do it, you’re going to find out what I’m going to do.”

By Sunday, Taliban officials dismissed the notion outright. “Ceding even an inch of our soil to anyone is out of the question and impossible,” Defense Ministry chief of staff Fasihuddin Fitrat declared in a televised speech. Spokesman Zabihullah Mujahid, posting on X, reminded Washington of its Doha Agreement pledge not to violate Afghanistan’s sovereignty. “Realism and rationality,” he wrote, should guide U.S. policy.

The exchange has reignited questions about what Bagram represents in the post-American era. Once the nerve center of counterinsurgency operations, drone strikes and detention facilities, the base has become a potent symbol of Taliban victory.

Last August, the group staged a parade of captured U.S. hardware there, reveling in what it called “the spoils of empire.”

Trump’s comments also reveal his dual strategy: criticizing President Biden’s handling of the 2021 withdrawal while signaling openness to transactional dealings with the Taliban, who remain diplomatically isolated and economically strained.

In recent months, U.S. envoys have held quiet talks in Kabul over prisoner exchanges and hostage cases, offering the Taliban potential openings for legitimacy even as they continue to harbor internal divisions and face threats from Islamic State affiliates.

Analysts say Trump’s gambit reflects broader geopolitical maneuvering. A U.S. return to Bagram — even symbolic — would reinsert American power at the doorstep of China, Russia and Iran.

It would also test whether the Taliban, seeking aid and recognition, could ever contemplate trading access for concessions. “Trump is daring the Taliban to choose between sovereignty and survival,” said one regional diplomat.

For now, Kabul’s response is unequivocal: no foreign troops. Yet Afghanistan’s economic desperation and the Taliban’s search for legitimacy mean the idea may not be as far-fetched as Sunday’s rhetoric suggested. The question is whether Washington sees Bagram as a bargaining chip — or a battlefield.

Somalia’s defense minister Ahmed Moallin Fiqi’s trip to Beijing for a rare high-level meeting with Chinese defense chief Admiral Dong Jun was presented as routine diplomacy. In reality, it signals a dangerous new chapter in Mogadishu’s long game: playing Washington and Beijing against each other, extracting aid and weapons from both sides, and leaving the Horn of Africa as the chessboard for a bigger global confrontation.

For years, Somalia has perfected the art of brinkmanship. When Ethiopia sought access to the Red Sea through Somaliland in early 2024, Mogadishu played the nationalist card, crying sovereignty, rallying Egypt, and dragging the Arab League into the dispute.

Just months earlier, Somalia had been begging Addis Ababa for economic assistance and joint counterterrorism support. By year’s end, President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud had turned on both Ethiopia and Eritrea, weaponizing pan-Arab alliances against them. It was a masterclass in survival politics, but one that deepened regional rifts.

Now Mogadishu is running the same play with the world’s two superpowers. With Washington, Somalia sells itself as a frontline partner against al-Shabaab and ISIS, collecting drones, airstrikes, and financial backing. With Beijing, the message is different: Somalia is a “gateway state,” open to Chinese investment, infrastructure, and long-term influence in the Gulf of Aden.

The timing of the Beijing defense talks is telling — just as U.S. airstrikes in northern Somalia sparked controversy after killing a respected clan elder in Sanaag, Somalia quietly pivots to Beijing, securing a second line of support in case Washington begins to waver.

The unspoken prize here is Somaliland. Somali officials in Mogadishu see the autonomous republic not as a partner in peace, but as unfinished business. Beijing, locked in a bitter rivalry with Washington, could see in Somalia an eager proxy: a client willing to trade recognition and access in exchange for weapons, cash, and diplomatic cover.

If China begins funneling arms or logistical support into Somalia under the guise of “security cooperation,” the Eastern front around Las Anod could easily become the flashpoint. Somali forces and clan militias, already bogged down in the city’s bloody stalemate, might find themselves emboldened by Chinese backing to push harder against Somaliland positions.

The question is not whether Mogadishu will leverage its Chinese courtship — it already is. The real question is how far Beijing is willing to go.

Would China risk destabilizing Somaliland, a stable democracy and vital partner to Ethiopia, the UAE, and potentially the United States, simply to undercut Western influence in the Horn?

What lies ahead is a dangerous triangle: Somalia playing both Washington and Beijing, China testing how far it can project power into Africa’s most strategic coastline, and Somaliland caught in the middle as the region’s only functioning democracy.

The Horn of Africa may soon find itself less a story of local insurgencies and more a frontline in the next great power struggle.