IF pre-military operation Swat has a global counterpart, it's Somalia. Exchange the Taliban for Al-Shabab, a radical Islamic group, and events in the unstable African country will seem eerily familiar to Pakistanis.

In recent months, Shabab militants have killed government ministers, beheaded innocents, attacked Sufi imams, arrested shrine caretakers and destroyed Sufi shrines across southern Somalia. The group's activities are sanctioned by Sharia courts under Shabab's influence. (Interestingly, these courts sprang up in Somalia about a decade ago to promote law and order in a stateless society with no efficient judicial system — sound familiar?)Shabab first emerged as the militant wing of the Islamic Courts Union, which used to control Somalia. After 2006, the extremist group launched an insurgency against Somalia's transitional government and the Ethiopian forces that were stationed around Mogadishu to help preserve the weak government's writ until January this year. Since 2007, Shabab has claimed links with Al Qaeda and, fuelled by foreign support, recently adopted an expansionist agenda militants have swept central and southern Somalia recruiting fighters and striking deals with tribal clan leaders to establish Shabab's control across the country.

Indeed, the similarities between Pakistan's northwest and Somalia are so intense that, as military operations in Swat and Fata gained intensity, dozens of Al Qaeda fighters fled the tribal belt and relocated to Somalia. There, they will join the ranks of Shabab, which is currently recruiting hundreds of foreign 'jihadis' in an effort to topple the six-month-old moderate Islamic government of President Sheik Sharif Sheik Ahmed.

Given the parallels, it would be worthwhile for the Pakistan government to analyse developments in Somalia to make more informed decisions about how to eradicate militancy from within our borders in the long term. This process could begin with a close look at the role Sufism is playing in the weak Somali state's struggle for survival.

As is the case with Pakistan, the West is banking on the devotees of Sufi saints — who comprise the majority of Somali Muslims, enjoy grassroots support and unite people across tribal factions — to push back against Shabab. US-based think tanks like Rand and the Heritage Foundation are counting on the Sufi message of love to counter Shabab's ever-brutal violence, for tolerance to stem hatred and for music and dancing to triumph over coercion.

But that's not how things are playing out in Somalia.

In December 2008, Ahlu Sunnah Wal Jama, an umbrella group of previously peaceful Sufis with loose allegiances to Mogadishu, took up arms against Shabab militants and drove them out of the central Dusa Marreb region. Several gun battles for control of central Somalia — where Sufis are predominant — have ensued, leading to the death of at least one senior Shabab commander. By resorting to violence, Somali Sufis have maintained control of their territory. In fact, Sufi militias are the only force to have confronted Shabab and won.

The clash between Sufis and Wahabi-influenced extremists of Shabab is unprecedented in Somalia. The country has always witnessed clan warfare, which is usually limited to two tribes. The Sufi-Shabab showdowns, which have explicit ideological and sectarian proportions, mark a new era in African instability. Since religious sects provide a banner under which different tribes can unite, religious warfare in Somalia threatens to be widespread, extended and bloody.The fact that Somali Sufis resorted to violence should give Pakistan pause to think. After all, a protracted war between Sufi devotees and extremists is no better than the battle between the military and militants or lashkars and Taliban recruits. And yet, that could be Pakistan's future if active steps are not taken to prevent it.

Consider two separate incidents in February, the provincial government in the NWFP announced a $40m fund to provide arms to anti-Taliban villagers. The idea was to equip an elite force with weapons seized from militants so that villagers could tackle the Taliban on the latter's terms. The decision was criticised for further weaponising an arms-ridden part of the country and casting Pakistan's fight against the Taliban as a do-or-die battle, rather than a long-term attempt to alter mindsets through education and provide alternatives to careers in militancy by creating jobs.

Separately, in June, the government announced the formation of a seven-member Sufi Advisory Council (SAC), which will aim to counter extremism by spreading Sufism instead. This move, too, was criticised. Not only does the council's existence suggest that one version of Islam is preferred in Pakistan over others, but it casts the fight against terrorism as a religious war, rather than a democratic government's crackdown against those operating beyond the law and undermining the constitution.

Now put the two together. If, in the coming months, armed Sufi adherents — emboldened by the rhetoric of the SAC — take up arms against remnants of the Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan in the Frontier province, our country will boast yet another similarity to Somalia — and that can never be a good thing.

The fact is, both Pakistan and Somalia should realise that propping up Sufism as a counter to spreading militancy is a dangerous gamble. It breeds a culture of coercion, in which one interpretation of Islam is imposed on all citizens. Moreover, deepening the spiral of religious warfare will only result in years more of bloodshed and instability.

True democracies are invested in promoting the freedom to practise whichever religion, and however, a person chooses. Learning from Somalia, Pakistan should be making every effort to minimise the space given to religion in the public sphere.

huma.yusuf@gmail.com