What Eritrea and Ethiopia Can Learn from America and Britain
The only litmus test I use in deciding whether a subject is worth writing about in Awate is simple: How relevant is it to Eritrea? Awate is a platform dedicated to Eritrean affairs and to advancing the long-awaited transformation of our country through activism, dialogue, reconciliation, and civic engagement. If a topic does not illuminate Eritrea’s challenges, opportunities, or future, it is unlikely to find its way into my writing.
Today, no issue is more urgent or consequential for Eritrea than the looming threat of war, a threat that could consume yet another generation of Eritreans. I cannot remain indifferent to matters of such importance, even if that means revisiting arguments I have made before. Some subjects demand repetition, not because they are new, but because they remain unresolved. If the danger persists, so does the responsibility to speak about it.
As an Eritrean American, I have spent much of my life studying both the history of my adopted homeland and that of my country of birth. My involvement in American politics, including a campaign for public office, teaching American and Texas politics to college students, has given me a deep appreciation for the resilience of democratic institutions and the principles that sustain them. I have long been fascinated by America’s founding era and often ask what lessons Eritrea, and the Horn of Africa more broadly, might draw from that experience.
I must confess that there were moments when my faith in democracy wavered. The reelection of President Trump led me to question not only the judgment of the electorate but also the resilience of democratic norms and institutions. I had hoped for a more decisive rejection of a style of politics that, in my view, relied too heavily on fear, division, scapegoating, and the demonization of political opponents.
Yet democracy’s greatest virtue is not that it always produces outcomes we personally favor. Its true strength lies in its capacity for self-correction. It allows societies to debate, reconsider, and change courses through peaceful and constitutional means rather than through violence or coercion. Subsequent political developments reminded me of that enduring strength and renewed my confidence, not only in democracy itself but also in the ability of free citizens to reassess their choices, learn from experience, and hold leaders accountable.
That renewed faith has reinforced my conviction that, despite their imperfections, democratic institutions remain among humanity’s most effective mechanisms for managing conflict, correcting mistakes, and facilitating peaceful change. Democracies may stumble, sometimes badly, but their greatest advantage is that they contain within themselves the means for renewal. They permit societies to make mistakes without becoming prisoners of them.
That question of what lessons we could draw feels especially urgent today. Few issues matter more than preventing another war between Eritrea and Ethiopia. I am convinced that a renewed conflict would be a recipe for mutual ruin, inflicting immense suffering on both peoples while further destabilizing the already fragile Horn of Africa. Given the interconnected nature of the region, such a war would not remain confined to the two countries for long. It carries the potential to draw in neighboring states, disrupt trade and migration routes, deepen humanitarian crises, and ignite a wider regional confrontation.
Preventing such a catastrophe should concern all sensible and peace-loving people, regardless of nationality or political affiliation. In that spirit, I applaud those organizing peace rallies in Geneva and elsewhere around the world who are raising their voices in favor of dialogue over confrontation. Their efforts serve as a timely reminder that peace is not solely the responsibility of governments. Citizens, civil society organizations, and diaspora communities also have a vital role to play in reducing tensions, challenging inflammatory rhetoric, and creating the political space necessary for diplomacy to succeed.
There is reason to believe that the Geneva rally was organized largely by pro-government Eritreans and others from across the region. It also appears to have been an extension of the Eritrean regime’s Tsimido initiative, a campaign that, in my view, has contributed to the current tensions rather than alleviated them. Yet I welcome the fact that the language of peace is being embraced and its virtues publicly championed. In moments of escalating hostility, it matters less who invokes the cause of peace than that the cause itself is advanced. Any effort that encourages dialogue over confrontation, restraint over escalation, and coexistence over conflict deserves recognition and support.
It is entirely possible to question the motives, assumptions, or political objectives behind such initiatives while still affirming the underlying message that war is neither inevitable nor desirable. Peace should never become the monopoly of any government, party, or movement. It is a universal aspiration and a shared responsibility.
At the same time, those who uncritically cheer their governments toward confrontation bear a responsibility of their own. Patriotism should never require the suspension of judgment. Supporting a government does not mean giving it a blank check, especially when the stakes involve the lives of countless young men and women. Financial contributions, political support, and public advocacy should be accompanied by demands for accountability, transparency, and a clear explanation of both the objectives and the costs of any potential conflict.
Blind loyalty may be emotionally satisfying, but it is rarely conducive to sound decision-making. Citizens who genuinely love their country should be willing to ask difficult questions before, not after, the drums of war begin to beat. Nationalism, like patriotism, can be a powerful force for collective purpose and sacrifice. But when it is used to silence dissent, discourage scrutiny, or demand unquestioning obedience, it ceases to serve the nation and begins to serve those who wield it. Patriotism should not become the last refuge of scoundrels, nor should nationalism be a shield against accountability.
When the costs of war are so immense and the benefits so uncertain, every effort to prevent conflict deserves our support and encouragement. The true test of patriotism is not how loudly one beats the drums of war, but how courageously one works to preserve peace while safeguarding the legitimate interests of one’s nation.
I am therefore encouraged by recent calls for preventive diplomacy, including statements from the G7 and a bipartisan group of U.S. senators urging Secretary of State Marco Rubio to engage before tensions escalate into a wider regional crisis. Their message reflects a simple truth: wars are far easier to prevent than to stop once they begin.
While preventing hostilities must be the immediate priority, the larger challenge is creating conditions that make future wars increasingly unlikely. A ceasefire can stop the shooting. Only durable peace can prevent its return. To explore what such a peace might look like, it is worth examining how the United States and Great Britain transformed one of the most hostile relationships of their age into one of the most stable and enduring partnerships in modern history.
The United States declared independence in 1776 and secured international recognition through the Treaty of Paris in 1783. Yet independence did not bring reconciliation. Distrust and rivalry persisted, culminating in the War of 1812, often described as America’s second war of independence. What makes this history remarkable is not that the two nations fought, but that they eventually learned how to stop fighting. Over time, they transformed a relationship defined by suspicion and conflict into one characterized by cooperation and mutual trust, what would later become known as the “special relationship.”
Despite the tragedy of the 1998-2000 border war, I had hoped it would serve as Eritrea’s second war of independence, the painful but decisive confrontation that would finally settle the question of sovereignty and allow both Eritrea and Ethiopia to move forward. Instead, the opportunity was squandered. Rather than closing a chapter of conflict, the years that followed culminated in Eritrea’s involvement in the 2020-2022 Tigray war, drawing the country deeper into the internal struggles of its neighbor. Today, instead of enjoying the dividends of a settled peace, we find ourselves confronting the possibility of yet another conflict, whether between Eritrea and Ethiopia or through entanglement in the rivalries of competing Ethiopian factions.
The lesson is sobering. Wars do not create peace merely by ending. They create peace only when leaders and societies have the wisdom to resolve the underlying disputes and build institutions, understandings, and habits of cooperation that make a return to war increasingly unnecessary and eventually unthinkable.
That transformation was not the product of sentiment or goodwill alone. It rested on practical decisions that reduced the incentives for conflict and increased the rewards of cooperation.
One of the most important factors in the emergence of lasting peace between the United States and Canada was the settlement of border disputes and the gradual demilitarization of contested areas. A series of agreements following the War of 1812 helped transform a once-volatile frontier into one of the most peaceful borders in the world. The lesson for Eritrea and Ethiopia is clear: lasting peace requires finality on the border question. The legal dispute was settled by the Eritrea-Ethiopia Boundary Commission, and the border has, for all practical purposes, been virtually demarcated for years. As long as the issue remains vulnerable to political manipulation, it will continue to generate tension rather than stability. The disputed border should not be used as Juha’s nail.
This should have been one of the central priorities of the 2018 peace process between Eritrea and Ethiopia. The first step was taken in Asmera on July 9, 2018, with the signing of the Joint Declaration of Peace and Friendship by Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed and President Isaias Afwerki. That commitment was later expanded and formalized in Jeddah on September 16, 2018, through the Agreement on Peace, Friendship and Comprehensive Cooperation. These agreements created a historic opportunity to close one of the most contentious chapters in the relationship between the two countries.
Yet the implementation of the Eritrea-Ethiopia Boundary Commission ruling, arguably the most important unresolved issue between the two states, was effectively sidelined as attention shifted toward broader political and security developments inside Ethiopia. In my view, this represented a missed historic opportunity to resolve the most consequential bilateral dispute between Eritrea and Ethiopia once and for all. By leaving the border question vulnerable to ambiguity and political manipulation, the agreements fell short of securing the durable foundation for peace that both peoples deserved
For Eritreans, the deeper lesson is that the country’s long-term security cannot be entrusted to the calculations of a single ruler or the indefinite preservation of an authoritarian system. Eritrea’s national interests are best served by accountable institutions, the rule of law, and a government that derives its legitimacy from the consent of its people. Achieving such a transformation should remain a central objective for all Eritreans concerned with the country’s future.
Equally important was the abandonment of proxy warfare. Sustainable peace became possible only when both sides stopped seeking advantage through forces operating against the other. Eritrea and Ethiopia have a long history of interfering in one another’s internal affairs, often through armed proxies. A durable peace cannot coexist with a strategy of mutual destabilization.
Another lesson is the power of economic interdependence. As trade expanded between Britain and the United States, both countries discovered that prosperity offered greater rewards than confrontation. Economic ties did not eliminate disagreements, but they changed the cost-benefit calculation of war.
The same opportunity exists in the Horn of Africa. Ethiopia needs reliable and affordable access to global markets, while Eritrea can benefit from serving as a regional gateway for trade and commerce. Both countries have far more to gain from the movement of goods across borders than from the movement of troops across battlefields.
Perhaps most importantly, Britain eventually accepted the United States as a sovereign equal rather than a rebellious former colony. Stable relations emerged only when both countries dealt with each other based on mutual respect.
The same principle applies today. Long-term peace requires consistent respect for Eritrea’s sovereignty and territorial integrity, just as it requires recognition of Ethiopia’s legitimate economic and security concerns. Peace cannot be built on domination, dependency, or revisionist ambitions. It must rest on mutual respect.
Finally, Britain and the United States moved beyond zero-sum thinking. Their leaders came to understand that endless confrontation drained resources better invested in development and prosperity. The pursuit of absolute advantage gave way to the search for mutual benefit.
This may be the most important lesson of all. Eritrea and Ethiopia face enormous challenges: poverty, youth emigration, institutional weakness, and the pressures of development in a rapidly changing world. Neither country can afford another destructive war. The real choice is not between victory and defeat, but between a future defined by cooperation and one trapped in recurring cycles of conflict. The experience of the United States and Great Britain demonstrates that even the deepest rivalries can be overcome when nations choose pragmatism over grievance, commerce over conflict, and mutual respect over coercion.
To Contact the Author: weriz@yahoo.com
