Sharpening the Pen to Defend Eritrea When the War Ignites.

The tensions, the constant beating of war drums, the tragic news of Eritreans drowning at sea, and the social media posts announcing those who have gone missing while crossing borders have all been weighing heavily on Eritreans. But above all, the rising drumbeat of a new war between Eritrea and Ethiopia is making people anxious.

For many within the PFDJ, war is their business—it is how they survive, how they maintain power, and how they stay relevant. They reassure us that Eritrea will never face the fate of Sudan because Eritreans are united in defending their sovereignty, insisting that we would never turn against one another. But history tells a different story.

For now, set aside the negative thoughts and convince yourself that we are unique, that what happened to Sudan could never happen in Eritrea. Go ahead—you have the inalienable right to hold on to that beautiful, comforting belief.

I am old enough to remember when Eritreans were butchered by other Eritreans on the streets of Sudan. I am also old enough to remember Eritreans harvesting the organs of their own people in the desert. The same psychopaths who plunged Sudan and other countries into carnage exist in Eritrea, emboldened and multiplied as the PFDJ’s grip on power endured. And as long as they remain untamed and unchecked, they will make Eritrea “red in tooth and claw,” because that is how they thrive and how they preserve their power.

And how do we know another war is likely to start? Because one of the Eritreans who once defended Eritrea with his pen and his words has already begun his rehearsal: (https://www.eritreadigest.com/burning-the-termite-mound-an-autopsy-of-gedions-speech/). It is preparation for the inevitable. When war erupts, he will be ready to “duke it out” with the ዳግማዊ ንዳግማይ time.

In the name of defending Eritrea, Dr. Amanuel Mehreteab, Dr. Assefaw Tekeste, Gebremeskel Gebremariam, and many others like them will once again strap on their gambale. Aklilu Tefeno, seized by nostalgia, will join Brikit Tanki, the two of them belting out መሬተይ መሬተይ. Some will even summon the memory of the late Bereket Mengisteab and sing: አንታይ ዝዓብስ ምንባር፡ አንታይ ዝዓብስ ሂወት. Others will simply shush us: ሕቶ የሎ ርአይቶ ዋላ ትኹን ንአሽቶ. Oh, I forgot, the singer will wield a spade and a hoe, tools for digging the land.

Many in the opposition will also join, and Abiy’s—and Ethiopia’s—ambition to seize Assab will be curbed. Ethiopia will lick its wounds. And then—just as always—the very people who defended Eritrea from aggression will rightly begin asking questions about the mismanagement of the war. They will ask, no, demand answers from Isaias Afwerki, or from Abraham Afewerki, or whoever succeeds him. And, as always, they will be accused of treason and disappeared—in the name of defending the land, the mere called Eritrea.

And since history shows that we do not learn from it: the Yemin did not learn from the Menkae; the 1993 fighters’ demonstrations did not learn from the earlier waves of resistance. The Mai-Habar disabled fighters did not learn from the past; the students’ resistance did not learn from history. And the G-15—though many of its members had helped design the very regime that later crushed them—did not learn either. And under its claws they have been devoured. Even the Wedi Ali–Forto incident failed to learn.

So, in this long tradition of refusing to learn, after thousands of Eritreans have died in the next war, Eritreans at home and in the diaspora will again demand answers, courageously and openly, writing letters to the PFDJ chief. And the regime of psychopaths and sociopaths will already have dossiers prepared, ready to label them traitors and nip out the new resistance in the. This time, the PFDJ will not need to invest in new prisons; Ela-Ero will be available—its current prisoners likely long dead by then.

And once again, we will find ourselves right back where we started—circling the same wagon of ኩሉ ድሕሪ መሬት፡ ክሉ ድሕሪ ሓመድ. And our love of መሬት will help us forget the future victims.

But the perennial danger to Eritrea’s sovereignty, as I have always argued here and elsewhere, is not any foreign invasion. It is the PFDJ. Even if Ethiopia were to invade Eritrea to seize Assab—a long shot and a tall order—it would not be our people’s war. It becomes our war only when the current leadership admits it has failed, relinquishes power, and steps aside. Until then, no Eritrean should lift a finger or utter a word in the name of sovereignty, because doing so only prolongs tyranny under the guise of defending land, sovereignty, or dignity—claims to land and sovereignty that, in practice, no longer exist.

The real danger is this: sensing defeat and desperate to cling to power, the PFDJ would negotiate to surrender Assab to Abiy and then try to sell it back to Eritreans—just as they sold Medemer, just as they sold their collaboration with Abiy in attacking the Tigrayan people (not merely the TPLF), and just as they are now selling the narrative that Eritrea must once again be yoked to Tigray to plough the war.

So instead of worrying about the next war, worry about the aftermath of the next war. Worry about the social engineering PFDJ is doing under different pretexts. Think about how it could be used as a tool, a ploy to prolong the repression we have already endured—and how it could further cement the longevity of despotism in our country.

The kobor is ready. The pen is sharp. The gamballe fits. ህዝበይ: አንታይእዩ ናትካ ግደ?