On the one hand, you have the criminal activities at a vital transnational shipping route. Yet, on the other hand, you have the unheard voices of exploited child pirates and the ignored communities harmed by anarchy, destructive fishing practices and toxic waste dumping. Could this be a call for Hollywood and Richard Phillips, the brave sea captain who gave himself as a hostage to save his crew, to draw the world's attention to the dangerous plight of global seafarers and to the war-torn nation of Somalia?
For me, a story doesn't get any closer or more personal than this. My tiny hometown and three other coastal hamlets, left behind by modernity and threatened by globalization, are up against my adopted powerful nation.
The United States - the land of my current life - and Somalia - the land of my birth and teenage years - are incomparable. Not only are they physically separated by vast oceans, they are also at the extreme ends of the economic divide. Whether we can agree or not, the United States is the only remaining superpower, and Somalia is the most noted failed state of the 21st century.
And yet their paths and destiny are intertwined in a relationship that goes back to the Cold War era and includes the humanitarian mission that ended up as the "Black Hawk Down" tragedy, when Somali militia shot down two American Black Hawk helicopters during the Battle of Mogadishu. The battle began when American soldiers attempted to capture two subordinates of Somali warlord Mohammed Farah Aidid.
Today, both nations are trying to regain lost national reputations through the piracy issue. The presence of Islamists with global aspirations in Somalia makes the nation part of the U.S. war on terror. The clash with the Somali pirates are the latest skirmish in this war.
For the neglected Somalis, piracy serves as a glimmer of hope to once again gain international attention for their plight. But for the United States, vanquishing Somali pirates is a must-win fight to protect national interests and restore pride deeply tarnished by the Black Hawk disaster.
I admire the swift and sound judgment of President Obama and the Navy Seals in the rescue of Phillips - a national hero who risked his own life for the lives of his crew - from the hands of Somali pirates. However, do we expect this time a Hollywood rehash of a testosterone-laden, action-packed, good-versus-evil movie plot like "Black Hawk Down"?
Or can we hope for a movie that captures the complexity of the issue so that even while it capitalizes on American heroism, it still presents a balanced and informative story of social justice?
Is it too much to hope that a motion picture would capture the intricacies of the issue - that of child pirates and poor fishermen, toxic waste trading by European nations, depletion of Somalia's marine resources by richer nations, further militarization of a very fragile African region awash in weapons, and efforts to protect American interests with an overstretched military?
If this becomes the story line, then a true American global hero is born, and Capt. Phillips would join the other voices who have been advocating for the rebuilding of Somalia.
With every imaginable human rights and environmental abuses taking place in Somalia every day, the country has been forsaken not only by the international community but also by Muslim advocacy groups in the United States, and indeed the entire Islamic world.
Many Somalis accept their fate of neglect by reminding themselves of the ancient Somali saying: "We are punished on this earth and (there is ) even nothing for us hereafter."
Ahmed Dirie is a visiting scholar at UC Berkeley. He is writing a memoir about "Why Somalia Didn't Matter to Humanity."
This article appeared on page A - 13 of the San Francisco Chronicle
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