Hail Ethiopia, Hail Peace!
In the 1940s, following the defeat of the Allied powers in WWII, Eritrea became a British protectorate. The 1950s marked a decade of federation with Ethiopia. The 1960s ushered in the era of revolution, which by the 1970s turned into a period of splits—mirroring the global Cold War dynamic—after the PLF splintered from the ELF.
In the 1980s, the ELF was militarily pushed out of Eritrea, ushering in the TPLF-EPLF alliance era.
Then came the 1990s, a promising decade of independence that soon went off course.
The 2000s saw dictatorship firmly cemented by the PFDJ (formerly the EPLF).
The 2010s were marked by disarray—within Eritrea and among Ethiopians. That chaotic environment paved the way for Abiy Ahmed’s Prosperity Party in Ethiopia. Meanwhile, Eritrea continued its path of militarization and public disenfranchisement.
The two nations had fought long and hard. Until 1991, Ethiopia refused to recognize Eritrea’s right to self-determination, while Eritreans waged a tenacious war for independence. That year, Eritrea became independent, and its ally, the TPLF-led coalition, overthrew the Derg regime.
The Arduous Liberation Struggle
The 30-year war devastated both countries. Hundreds of thousands died. In Eritrea, villages were razed, cattle were strafed by fighter planes, and infrastructure was destroyed. Its once-regional-leading factories decayed, plantations perished, and over half a million people became refugees—many have yet to return.
In 1998, the so-called Badme War erupted between the former allies. Over 100,000 lives were lost, and a new wave of refugees emerged. A “no war, no peace” status lingered until 2018, when Abiy Ahmed rose to power with his Medemer doctrine. Eritreans were split—some saw it as hopeful, others as empty rhetoric.
But Abiy soon mirrored his predecessors. He ignored long-standing tensions between the countries. Conflicts that couldn’t be resolved by scout-level optimism only deepened. Inter-Ethiopian conflicts worsened, especially between the Tigray region and the federal government.
In 2022, a peace agreement was signed in Pretoria. Yet, little of it has been implemented. Tigray remains unstable. The displaced have not returned. Worse, Tigray itself is split—some factions aligning with Eritrea, others against. The Ethiopian federal government is preoccupied with a grander ambition: becoming a Red Sea power. That is the main issue of this essay.
The Red Sea: Ethiopia’s Obsession, Eritrea’s Anxiety
A few Ethiopian elites have long seen Eritrea as property. Claims over Eritrean territories and the Red Sea resurface whenever Ethiopian rulers face crises—conflict, economic hardship, or ethnic unrest. Abiy is no exception.
In 2022, Abiy declared to parliament that access to the Red Sea was existential. If his generation couldn’t secure it, future generations would. It was a clear call for aggression against a sovereign nation. Top Ethiopian officials echoed the threat, proclaiming, “The Red Sea ports belonged to Ethiopia since ancient times. Peacefully or otherwise, we will reclaim them.”
That alarming statement signaled the end of the Abiy-Isaias’s honeymoon. Abiy’s provocation has become a rallying cry for Ethiopian extremists.
Mythology as Political Argument
Traditional Ethiopian claims lean on ancient myth. They cite Queen Sheba, claiming she bore Menelik I—son of Solomon—in present-day Eritrea, thereby justifying dominion over the Red Sea.
Sadly, both Ethiopian and Eritrean arguments often rely on legends—hardly a foundation for mature, rational discourse.
Sociology teaches us that races evolve. Attempting to prove direct bloodlines across millennia is irrational. Could modern Italians claim most of Europe because of the Roman Empire? Only if no other peoples have existed since. Given Rome’s inclusive citizenship model, proving a continuous race-based claim is impossible.
Modern law recognizes current citizens—not mythical ancestors. Claims of legitimacy through bloodlines are defunct, long gone with the ancients.
Eritrea Belongs to Eritreans
Eritrea is defined by its present citizens. Yes, occupiers leave genes and traces—but ownership cannot be justified by myths. Assimilated ethnicities in Eritrea are full citizens. There’s no legal basis for ancestral legends.
Some Ethiopians claim that the PFDJ “stole” Eritrea. They vow, “We will take back what’s ours!”
Unfortunately for them, nations aren’t magical caves that respond to “Open Sesame.” This isn’t Ali Baba’s cartoon story.
Thou Shalt Not Covet the Red Sea
The 10th commandment says, “You shall not covet your neighbor’s house… or anything that belongs to your neighbor.” I add, “You shall not covet the Eritrean Red Sea.”
Since 1961, Eritreans sought divorce from Ethiopia—and paid dearly. Independence was achieved through war and affirmed by a UN-backed referendum.
Let’s say Eritreans were once Ethiopians, under occupation. They left and took their land with them. So, what part of Ethiopia do present-day elites own, exactly?
Eritrea belongs to Eritreans. Why is that hard to grasp? Can an Eritrean claim Tigray or Begemder? That would be ludicrous. Some of the elite claiming Eritrea are largely from those two regions—Abyssinian stock, like some Eritreans. Could Turks, Italians, or Egyptians claim Eritrea simply because they once occupied it? They could try—but they’d be dismissed as delusional.
Unity is about voluntary association, not enforced occupation.
After independence, Eritreans ended up under a dictatorship, not a flourishing republic—it’s just the “State of Eritrea.” Instead of apologizing for past abuses, Ethiopian elites double down, basing their claim on painful history. Eritreans reject Ethiopian unity precisely because it was born from oppression. And though Eritrean Muslims are as indigenous as any Ethiopian, they’re still treated as foreigners in their own land. That’s why Eritreans walked away—and why they’re not coming back.
Awate Forum