Something about the smile on the face of accused pirate suspect Abduwali Abdukadir Muse, a teenager suddenly catapulted into infamy, struck me as peculiar.

It was hard to figure out why a person facing life imprisonment after being extradited from his Somalian home would be smiling at all. He's now a world away from his family because of his role in capturing a merchant ship in the Indian Ocean and holding its captain hostage for several days before his accomplices were killed by Navy SEALs.

But after studying his face, I realized something. Muse successfully communicated to the world something that Osama bin Laden and Al-Qaeda have failed to: what is behind crimes like those he's been accused of. ...



Somalia's recent history is one typical of African nations. It's a land split up and redistributed by colonizers, which became subject to conflicts between ethnic groups and clans before a full-scale civil war broke out, rendering it largely unable to form a centralized government for years. Finally, a lawless region, controlled by who had the most muscle, prevailed. There is some semblance of law struggling to take shape, but in large part, much of the country is a political and military free-for-all.

Until recently, most Westerners had only known of Somalia through the 'Black Hawk Down' film, in which 18 U.S. soldiers were killed in what was supposed to have been a humanitarian mission. That tragedy should have been a warning sign at the outset. Now, thanks to Muse and his cohorts, Africa is making the world listen.

Anarchy and violence persist and flourish in environments where poverty is prevalent. Life expectancy in Somalia is about 49 years, and the yearly per capita income is about $600, one of the lowest in the world. Agriculture is the dominant industry.

Fishing was a major contributor to the country's economy until the last nationalized government collapsed in 1991, leaving foreign seamen to ransack the coast and the neighboring Indian Ocean. Somali fisherman, often in raggedy boats, gleaned what they could from the sea to sustain themselves and their villages, but as much as $300 million a year in seafood is taken by vessels from other countries, leaving the fishermen with little but their boats and hungry stomachs.

A few years ago, Somali fishermen begged for help to keep foreigners from plundering their waters, but the appeal fell on deaf ears. Instead, merchant seamen from all over the world picked away at what little the indigenous population had, and others dumped toxic waste in those same waterways. With little in the way of resources, and realizing that foreign aid would only do so much, they turned to criminal activity.

There are also arguments that suggest overfishing in other parts of the world drive ships to African waters that are still fertile with a variety of marine life, thus bringing interest in the Somali waters and targets for fishermen, who have now adopted piracy out of desperation.

When the piracy started, it was relatively easy to get ransom from a few pirated ships because many were there illegally in the first place, but over time, the business mushroomed into the only real growth industry in the country. And the seafaring gangstas are reaping a profit.

This all culminated into the incident in which the Maersk Alabama was pirated, and Capt. Richard Phillips was captured and held for several days. Now, I'm certainly glad that Phillips returned home to his wife and family, but the media has yet to present a balanced picture of the Somali pirate phenomenon, preferring instead to focus on the sound byte or the sexy edit.

But that won't put the focus on why Somalia is poor and why piracy really exists there, but to me it's simple: Without an economy that allows people to utilize their resources to lift themselves out of poverty, Somalis are just taking back what's being taken from them.

Muse's smile, while probably hiding fear and despair, for now represents Somalia's only way of communicating to the world. His face is now the face of rebellion against exploitation, criminal or not.