Habrengaqa: The Forgotten Line That Almost Divided Eritrea
Many Eritreans do not know the village of Habrengaqa, halfway on the Keren–Asmara road, at the top of the escarpment—a geographical divide between the Eritrean lowlands and highlands. But that is not the source of its fame. Rather, during the turbulent years of the 1940s, the British Military Administration (BMA) of Eritrea had a devilish concept for the future of the territory: partition Eritrea into two parts.
It conceived and promoted a sectarian idea of partitioning Eritrea into a predominantly “Christian highland” and “a Muslim lowland.” The dividing line started from Habrengaqa and went east and west, dividing Eritrea based on religion, without considering the sizeable portions of people who would become second-class citizens in their own country.
That idea whetted the appetite of Emperor Haile Selassie of Ethiopia and his followers. For Eritreans, it felt like putting the people and their country on a sacrificial altar. It was rejected and failed, but it led into a federation—a sort of negotiated settlement.
Those who know about the miseries of Ukraine, Yugoslavia, Kurdistan, and other colonizer laissez-faire border drawings would appreciate the risk that was rejected by the majority of Eritreans. I will present an episode about that soon.
The sooner Eritreans defeat the ideas of the ancestor-worshippers who dream of primordial tribal and ethnic enclaves, the better. A few years ago, such a racist and fascistic movement sprang up among the Eritrean diaspora. They were emboldened by Tigrayans, including senior officials of the ruling class. They negate others who do not speak their language and insist one must be Orthodox Christian. Ideas that fail in history often return disguised as nostalgia.
They are inheritors of those who wanted to unite Eritrea with Ethiopia under Haile Selassie’s Orthodox crown. But they have no rational argument; they simply want a puritan, racist, and fascist enclave carved from the Eritrean highlands and Tigray. Eritrea was once nearly divided not by geography, but by sectarian imagination.
They have negligible allies—a cult within the PFDJ camp. The following parody interview illustrates a small part of how they view cult authority, which I ended by telling him…
Parody: The Chicken’s Dream
Cultist: Why do you hate Jigna Brezidenti Isaias?
I don’t hate him; I am disappointed by his governance.
Cultist: Do you want to tell him how to govern?
Don’t you think I have that right?
Cultist: He brought [like, created] the country and he brought freedom.
Was it Isaias alone who struggled?
Cultist: But he led the struggle.
Does that give him the right to own the country and its people?
Cultist: Didn’t he lead the struggle?
Well, there are many others who gave their body parts and lives for the struggle.
Cultist: Answer my question first—didn’t he lead the struggle?
He did lead part of the struggle.
Cultist: But he brought the struggle to fruition.
It’s the combined struggle of all Eritreans that brought it to fruition.
Cultist: Are you a supporter of Weyane? You hate Eritrea?
How did you arrive at that?
Cultist: That’s what you are saying.
Did I say I hate Eritrea?
Cultist: You don’t have to say it; it’s obvious—play it somewhere else.
You have been asking so far; let me ask you once. Do you love your country?
Cultist: You know I love my country.
Do you love your country more than Isaias?
Cultist: They are the same. You know that.
What does “you know that” mean?
Cultist: endEelka.
[A famous Eritrean code of frustration meaning, “You are annoying me—leave me alone.” Depending on how loudly it is said, the debate may get physical. But I took the risk.]
What does “endEelka” mean?
Cultist: endEelka means endEelka.
What does “endEelka means endEelka” mean?
Cultist: You are escaping from the debate?
What does “you are escaping the debate” mean?
Cultist: s%#szbshl#-* [censored] …
When politics becomes a cult, debate becomes impossible.
If you haven’t heard of “Chicken Dream,” that’s an example. It’s handy if you want to stop a debate with a child or a cultist and the like. Just repeat what they last said and ask what it means. They will soon get frustrated and leave you alone—try it, you will be amazed.
That is an Eritrean folk trick. It’s the original filibustering that I claim American legislators copied from Eritreans.
For years, if people expressed a simple dissatisfaction with the Eritrean single-party leadership, they were immediately branded unpatriotic or worse—a sellout. Imagine living through that for decades, being branded a Weyane stooge! Weyane is the Ethiopian party from Tigray and has always been a friend-enemy of the Eritrean dictatorship. They are close allies for half a decade and then staunch enemies for the remaining years.
The relations between the PFDJ (Eritrean) and the Weyane, TPLF (Ethiopian), have always been mercurial—unpredictable relations where they became the archenemy of each other.
In Eritrean political discourse, disagreement is often treated as betrayal.
Things changed in 2018 after Abiy Ahmed came to power. Until then, Ethiopia was the archenemy of Eritrea. Then Abiy was awarded the Nobel Prize for something I don’t remember, and Ethiopia replaced the Tigrayans as the new friend-enemy.
But engaging in such discourse decreases your IQ score and cripples any discussion, let alone debate—especially political debate.
But I have been wondering: When will Isaias resign, or be forced to resign, or—pray—be convinced to resign, or politely asked by the suffering people to vacate the office?
The façade of an oppressed nation looks normal on the surface, but anger builds just beneath a thin layer of depleting patience and care. Then it wears down and shows the ugliness buried beneath the surface. Then incidents grow and grow and grow. Finally the inevitable happens—and it will be difficult to gather all the pieces.
The backbone of the regime are the beneficiaries: the inner circle, the opportunist parasites, and the minions (read it in French—mignon—it sounds better). It’s easy to become a mignon: just shout “nHna Nsu” (We are Him and He is Us). As lame as it sounds, I swear that’s the translation.
Remember to be servile to the system. Close your eyes. Close your ears. Put off your brain and shove it in a drawer. Forget about it. Just keep your sharp voice and insult-spitting mouth—congratulations, you are a “mignon.”
Where there is no rule of law, the opposition abided by natural laws of decency, care, and responsibility. It begged. It argued peacefully for justice. All that was considered weakness—ineptness—ineffectiveness.
Now the entire region is boiling. The earth is shaking. People’s tear ducts are depleted. No more tears—just a blank face from which smiles have disappeared. Sadness, disappointment, and anger have been brewing slowly for too long.
Now those supposed to be happy are engulfed with worries, not knowing what tomorrow might bring. One’s impulse to take initiative had almost died. It is now being awakened by the jolt of reality.
Are you feeling it? Or have your senses gone, and have you become like zombies walking in the dark?
I know. That is bleak. Unfortunately, that is what is there to see and observe. Appeals to those who can change the situation have been landing on deaf ears—dead conscience, dead dignity, and dead responsibility.
Why would veteran freedom fighters allow years of their sacrifices to vanish while they silently watch?
So someone asked me, “What do you think it will be?”
I think maybe they will remain silent as they have for years—or take quick action to kick-start an era of reconciliation, an era of reform, an era of true reconstruction, an era of freedom, an era without fear—an era for which so much was sacrificed. No system can suppress pressure forever.
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