By JEFFREY GETTLEMAN


MOGADISHU, Somalia - From the gates of Villa Somalia, the hilltop presidential palace, this ruin of a city almost looks peaceful.

After nearly two decades of civil war, there is very little pollution, since just about all of Somalia’s industry has been razed. Few cars remain in the city and relatively few people, because hundreds of thousands have recently fled. It is surreally quiet, except for the occasional crack of a high-powered rifle.

President Sheik Sharif Sheik Ahmed sits behind his desk in a pinstriped suit, prayer hat and designer glasses. He is ringed by enemies and guarded around the clock by Ugandan soldiers. For the rare occasions he leaves the palace, they drive him to the airport in an armored personnel carrier.

But for the first time in decades - including 21 years of dictatorship and the 18 years of chaos that followed - Somalia’s leader has both widespread grass-roots support inside the country and extensive help from outside nations, analysts and many Somalis say.

“This government faced obstacles that were unparalleled,” said Sheik Sharif, a former high school teacher, who became president in February. “We had to deal with international terrorist groups creating havoc elsewhere. Their plan was to topple the government soon after it arrived. The government proved it could last.”

Much of the world is counting on Sheik Sharif to tackle piracy and beat back the spread of militant Islam, two Somali problems that have flared into major geopolitical ones. Al Qaeda appears to be drawing closer to Somali insurgents in an effort to turn this country into a launching pad for global jihad. After years of ambivalence about Somalia, the United States is playing an increasingly active role here, and recently shipped 36 metric tons of weapons to Somalia to keep Sheik Sharif’s government alive.

But his armed forces are unreliable. Many of his commanders still have ties to the Shabab, the Islamist insurgents working with Al Qaeda to overthrow Sheik Sharif’s government, and several government officers here conceded that a large share of the American weapons slipped into Shabab hands.

If not for the 5,000 African Union troops guarding the port, airport and Villa Somalia, many Somalis believe Sheik Sharif’s government would quickly fall.

“It wouldn’t be days,” said Asha A. Abdalla, a member of Parliament. “It would be hours.”

Sheik Sharif is a novel politician for Somalia. To start with, he is a politician. For decades, generals, warlords and warrior types have reduced this once languid coastal country to rubble.

Sheik Sharif, 43, is accustomed to carrying a compass, not a gun. Studious and reserved, he has found something that resembles Somalia’s political center, a blend of moderate and more strident Islamic beliefs, with the emphasis on religion, not clan. To help, he has assembled an impressive brain trust of Somali-Americans, Somali- Canadians and Somali- Europeans with Ph.D.’s who had been waiting for years to help rebuild their country.

But each day Sheik Sharif remains in his hilltop palace, with millions of his people on the brink of starvation because of drought, the euphoria that greeted his ascension slides into cynicism.

Villa Somalia may be safe, but the rest of Mogadishu, the capital, is a death trap of assassinations, land mines and senseless violence. Errant mortar shells routinely sheer off the arms and legs of children.

The Shabab and their insurgent brethren now control most of Mogadishu and much of the country. They are often referred to as the Somali Taliban, sawing off thieves’ hands and recently yanking out people’s teeth, saying gold fillings were un-Islamic.

In fact, the Shabab have their own defectors and may be losing critical support. Two young men who recently quit said the Shabab’s pipeline of money, which used to flow from rich Somalis outside the country, was drying up as more Somalis backed Sheik Sharif. Aid workers said the Shabab were taxing food in their territory, a very unpopular move when food prices are already high because of the drought.

“This is really about hearts and minds,” said Ahmed Abdisalam, a deputy prime minister in the last Somali government. “This government needs to get to the public. If they have the public with them, the Shabab won’t be able to survive.”





President Sheik Sharif Sheik Ahmed, inset, may offer Somalia a chance for stability. A soldier guarded an Indian Ocean beach.