Why Somalia's piracy is making a comeback as illegal fishing rises
After a long stretch of quiet seas, the waters off the Horn of Africa are once again drawing global attention. Somali seafarers, many of them young men from coastal towns like Hobyo and Eyl, are returning to a familiar trade that had all but disappeared a decade ago. Reports from the International Maritime Bureau, the European Union's naval mission in the area, and regional coast watchers suggest that attempted seizures of merchant vessels roughly doubled in the past two years, with several incidents ending in armed confrontation on the high seas and a few producing multi-million-dollar ransoms.
The revival sits at the intersection of economic collapse, foreign trawlers, and a policing vacuum. Foreign fishing fleets have crowded into Somali waters since the central government lost its grip on the coastline in the early 1990s. Local fishermen say they have watched their catches plummet while refrigerated cargo vessels from as far away as Iran, South Korea, and Spain offload tons of tuna, shark, and lobster just beyond the horizon. The anger on shore is not new, but it has found a familiar outlet, and the world's merchant fleets are once again being forced to reckon with the consequences.
The return of Somali pirates
Two decades after the late-2000s hijacking crisis forced the world to deploy warships from three continents, the same pattern is repeating in miniature. Small skiffs launch from beaches near the Puntland coast, sometimes carrying nothing more than grappling ladders, fuel drums, and assault rifles. Their targets are usually bulk carriers, oil tankers, and container ships transiting the Bab el-Mandeb strait, the narrow chokepoint that funnels Red Sea traffic toward the Suez Canal and the markets of Europe and Asia.
What is different is the scale. The current wave involves dozens of attacks per year rather than the dozens per month seen at the 2011 peak. Still, shipping insurers have begun raising war-risk premiums for vessels passing through the area, and several shipping lines have already rerouted around the Cape of Good Hope, adding two weeks and tens of thousands of dollars in fuel costs to each voyage. The economic ripple reaches container terminals from Singapore to Hamburg, and it has begun showing up in the freight rates that importers in places as far away as Sydney quietly absorb.
How illegal fishing fuels the revival
Researchers who have interviewed captured pirates consistently hear the same grievance. Foreign trawlers operating without licenses have stripped coastal waters of tuna, lobster, and shark, leaving subsistence fishermen with empty nets and rising debts. When the central government in Mogadishu collapsed, it stopped issuing fishing permits or enforcing the ones it had already issued. That vacuum has been filled by fleets that pay nothing to local communities and ignore seasonal catch limits set by regional bodies.
The resentment runs deeper than lost income. Trawlers often drag nets close enough to shore that they damage coral beds and tangle in artisanal gear, ruining small boats in the process. Some crews have been accused of ramming local dhows when confronted by angry fishermen. For unemployed young men in towns where alternative paths are scarce, piracy offers a perverse form of maritime justice. Several pirate network leaders have publicly framed their actions as a response to illegal fishing rather than a straightforward demand for ransom, a message that has begun circulating on Somali-language radio and social media platforms.
The economics of maritime crime
Modern Somali piracy is less profitable than it was during its 2008 to 2011 heyday, but it still offers attractive returns in a country where the formal economy has largely collapsed. Successful operations have netted crews sums equivalent to years of average wages, and even failed attempts can produce payouts. Shipping companies increasingly prefer to negotiate with armed men on deck rather than risk injury to crew members, and insurers often cover the cost of the settlement.
The economics also involve insurance, legal gray zones, and a hierarchy of negotiators. Local elders broker talks, foreign intermediaries help translate demands, and legal experts in Nairobi and Dubai advise on how to receive ransom without prosecution. These networks did not disappear during the quiet years; they simply went dormant, waiting for the right conditions to return. Foreign trawlers have provided those conditions, and the slow retreat of international naval patrols has removed the deterrent that once made the trade too risky.
International patrols and their limits
A multinational task force combined with European Union naval vessels and independent convoy transits drove hijackings to near zero by 2015. Those patrols have thinned as Western navies redirected resources to the Gulf and the Indo-Pacific, where tensions with China and instability around the Strait of Hormuz have absorbed ships and attention. China's growing presence in Djibouti, where it operates its first overseas military base, has filled part of the gap, but Chinese warships generally escort only Chinese-flagged vessels.
The result is patrol coverage patchy at best. Vessels transiting near the Seychelles or the Mauritius approach often do so without naval escort, and satellite monitoring of small boats remains limited. Somalia's coast guard has been promised patrol boats by donors in Canberra, Brussels, and Washington, but few have actually arrived. Critics argue that aid programs have prioritized buildings and training over the actual boats, fuel, and crews needed to chase trawlers out of Somali waters, leaving the country's coastline as porous as it was two decades ago.
Regional spillover and global shipping
The economic fallout is not confined to East Africa. Insurance underwriters at Lloyd's of London have begun pricing the risk back into global shipping rates, and a single extended hijacking can drive up the cost of consumer goods from electronics to grain, since most of what reaches shops arrives by sea. Bread prices in Addis Ababa have already ticked up in recent months, partly because shipping companies passing through the area charge more to deliver the wheat that the country imports in bulk to feed its urban population.
For nearby states, the threat is more immediate. The port of Mombasa handles much of East Africa's container traffic and sits within easy reach of the affected waters, and officials in Nairobi have warned that a single well-publicized attack could scare away shipping lines and undermine years of port investment. Similar concerns apply to the smaller ports along the Tanzanian and Mozambican coasts, where authorities have started coordinating with their Somali counterparts on a regional maritime security plan. The economic consequences of conflict in Sudan are already visible across the region, as grain supplies remain disrupted, and additional shocks in the maritime domain would compound those pressures on neighbors.
The Australian connection
Australia is more connected to the Somali piracy story than many people in Sydney or Perth might realize. The waters off Western Australia's Pilbara coast host one of the country's most lucrative fishing grounds, and Australian crews have a direct stake in how the world's oceans are governed. Canberra has participated in anti-piracy patrols in the past and currently operates alongside Japan and India in regional maritime exercises that touch on the western Indian Ocean, including the Kakadu exercises hosted out of Darwin.
Australian border authorities have also flagged a steady trickle of asylum seekers arriving by boat from places connected to East African trafficking routes. Officials at the Department of Home Affairs in Canberra have briefed parliamentary committees on the broader maritime security picture, including the resurgence of piracy and the role of illegal fishing. Researchers at the Australian National University in Canberra and at the Lowy Institute in Sydney run programs on Indian Ocean security that frequently collaborate with regional counterparts. Australian seafood consumers, used to picking up freshly caught barramundi at the Sydney Fish Market or grabbing a flathead at a pub in Fremantle, are tied to global fisheries through the supermarkets and chains they buy from, and to the shipping lanes that carry much of their imported goods.
Pathways forward
Stopping the comeback requires more than chasing pirates. It means confronting the foreign trawlers whose presence drives young men to armed action in the first place. International monitors have begun publishing the names of vessels operating illegally in Somali waters, but enforcement remains weak and many of the worst offenders continue to operate under flags of convenience. Regional coast guards need boats, fuel, and training that match the realities of policing a coastline longer than Australia's eastern seaboard.
There are signs of movement. Somalia's federal government has signed agreements with several foreign fishing companies to license operations and share revenue with coastal communities. International donors have begun funding local fishery cooperatives that give young men an alternative to boarding a skiff. The challenge is scale, and the timeline is short. Until those alternatives reach the beaches of Hobyo and Eyl, the waters off the Horn of Africa will remain a place where a young man with a rifle and a fast boat can outearn his peers for a single afternoon of risk. For readers seeking broader context on African political transitions, the military rulers holding elections phenomenon offers a useful parallel on how armed governments manage legitimacy through ballots.
Forces driving the resurgence at a glance
- Plummeting fish catches caused by unlicensed foreign trawlers
- Collapse of central authority and coast guard capacity since the early 1990s
- Idle young men in coastal towns with few economic alternatives
- Thinning international naval patrols as ships redeploy elsewhere
- Insurance industry slowly pricing risk back into global trade routes
- Dormant pirate infrastructure still in place from the 2000s
Practical responses gaining traction
- Bilateral fishing agreements with revenue-sharing for coastal villages
- Coast guard donations of patrol boats from Australia, the EU, and the United States
- Local fishery cooperatives funded through international development banks
- Shipboard armed security teams on high-risk transits through the area
- Satellite monitoring partnerships with private space firms tracking dark vessels
- Coordinated patrols between Somalia, Kenya, Tanzania, and Seychelles
The fight against piracy off Somalia is not a closed chapter. The same waters that carried ancient traders between Aden and Zanzibar are once again a stage for armed confrontation, only now with satellite trackers, refrigerated cargo holds, and social media campaigns on each side. Australians who track commodity markets from desks in Melbourne, or who simply enjoy a flathead at their local pub in Brisbane, are tied to these waters in ways that rarely appear in the headlines. Reading beyond the surface stories, through independent reporting on African affairs and outlets like Rogue Chiefs, helps turn scattered incidents into a coherent picture of how oceans, economies, and distant coastlines are bound up with one another. Subscribe to follow the story as it unfolds, and consider what the seafood on your plate might say about the state of distant seas.