At the end of last year, the Eritrean Foreign Ministry announced the country’s permanent withdrawal from the regional organization IGAD via the Eritrean state television network. The ministry explained that this decision was driven by the organization’s complete failure to meet its core objectives and purpose.
“Eritrea finds itself compelled to withdraw its membership from an organisation that has forfeited its legal mandate and authority, offering no discernible strategic benefit to all its constituencies,” stated the Ministry of Foreign Affairs on Friday, 12 of December 2025.
IGAD’s response
Since rejoining IGAD in June 2023 after a two-decade suspension, the regional organisation notes with regret that Eritrea has not participated in IGAD meetings, programmes, or activities. Throughout this period, the Secretariat has exercised patience and goodwill, while remaining open and available for constructive engagement.
“IGAD further regrets that the decision to withdraw was taken without the submission of tangible proposals or engagement on specific institutional or policy reforms. The Organisation has consistently remained open to dialogue through its established consultative mechanisms.”
WHY NOW?
Numerous political analysts and scholars specializing in the region have expressed concern about the regional organization’s inability to achieve peace and stability. While various factors contribute to this ineffectiveness, a primary issue appears to be the organization’s structure. Decision-making authority is predominantly vested in the general assembly of heads of state. Consequently, if the leaders fail to establish rapport or maintain positive interpersonal relationships, the organization may become paralyzed in its efforts to address critical issues.
What pushed the government of Eritrea to withdraw could be due to dissatisfaction and frustration, or a strategic shift from the Horn to the Red Sea region.
Eritrea suspended its membership in the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) two decades ago in response to IGAD’s request for the African Union (AU) and the United Nations Security Council (UNSC) to impose sanctions against Eritrea, a request influenced by the Ethiopian government. It is concerning to observe a regional organization aligning with one member state to penalize and isolate others. Furthermore, IGAD has not effectively addressed Ethiopia’s territorial claims against Eritrea. For instance, since 2023, Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed has expressed the necessity for access to the Red Sea through Eritrea. In making this demand, Abiy and other high-ranking Ethiopian officials have openly questioned Eritrea’s independence, provoking a strong response from the Eritrean government in Asmara. Notably, IGAD has not condemned the rhetoric and threats articulated by the Ethiopian government. Consequently, the Government of Eritrea cannot remain a member of a regional organization that fails to condemn and address the actions of a member state that violates fundamental international treaties and the principles of the UN Charter regarding the sovereignty and territorial integrity of nations within the international community.
The Eritrean government has expressed frustration with the actions of member states such as Kenya and Uganda regarding the need for reform within the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD). This dissatisfaction may have led Eritrea to consider withdrawing from the regional organization and instead focus on strengthening its relationships with nations in the Red Sea Basin. Additionally, the ongoing threats posed by the Ethiopian regime to invade and annex Eritrea’s sovereign coastline have heightened concerns within Eritrea, prompting the nation to seek closer alignment with Egypt and the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.
In summary, the withdrawal from a largely irrelevant organization should not be perceived as an act of isolation or a diplomatic setback; rather, it is a strategic and timely decision driven by geostrategic considerations. A significant number of Eritreans endorse the government’s choice, advocating for enhancing the nation’s relations with countries in the Red Sea Basin and beyond. This initiative is aimed not only at strengthening security and political ties but also at significantly boosting trade and investment opportunities.
Eritrea will compete in the qualifiers for the 2027 Africa Cup of Nations, ending a 19-year absence from the continent’s premier football competition, officials confirmed this week.
The Eritrean Football Federation has completed registration requirements and submitted guarantees to the Confederation of African Football, clearing the way for the national team to participate in the upcoming qualifying campaign.
Federation president Paulos Weldehaimanot Andemariam confirmed the development in comments published by CECAFA, the regional football body for East and Central Africa, while attending the current AFCON tournament in Morocco. No formal statement has yet been released in Eritrea.
Eritrea last took part in AFCON qualifiers during the 2008 cycle. Its most recent qualifying match was played in September 2007, when the team finished second in its group behind Angola and recorded wins over Kenya both at home and away.
In recent months, CAF has revised its regulations, increasing fines and suspensions for federations that fail to honor official fixtures. Eritrean football officials have acknowledged that these changes played a role in renewed coordination with government authorities to secure approval for participation.
Eritrea’s national team has had limited international activity over the past several years. The side exited the 2022 World Cup qualifiers in the first round against Namibia in 2019. Since then, it has played a small number of friendly matches, including one against Sudan in 2020 and two games against Niger A’ during independence anniversary events in May 2025.
Weldehaimanot indicated that the federation is considering calling up Eritrean players based outside Africa to strengthen the squad. However, no details have been released regarding player selection, training schedules or the appointment of a head coach.
The national team has largely relied on locally based players in recent appearances, with the domestic league operating intermittently. Officials have not announced when preparations for the AFCON qualifiers will begin.
CAF has not yet published the official draw or schedule for the 2027 qualifying matches.
a few weeks ago – technically last year, even though the change of calendar matters more than the actual time elapsed – I wrote a short piece to share some reflections on the year that had just ended. It was simply a personal stocktaking, a brief assessment of the past year rather than a fully developed argument.
At the beginning of the new year, I came across an article published on Red Sea Beacon, written by David Yeh, focused on Eritrea’s political economy, the idea of self-reliance, and the rejection of debt. The article circulated widely on social media and was also shared by institutional profiles, including that of Eritrea’s Minister of Information.
I know little about the author beyond the fact that he writes regularly on issues related to the Horn of Africa and Eritrea. Regardless of this, I decided to comment publicly on his article. He replied to my comment, and from there a brief but meaningful exchange developed.
For the sake of completeness, in the paragraphs that follow I will reproduce the exchange exactly as it took place, without omitting anything, quoting the relevant passages verbatim. This is meant to give readers a clear sense of the discussion itself, including those who may not have read the article from which it originated. I will conclude with a short personal reflection.
My comment
“There is a fundamental misunderstanding running through this narrative: the confusion of self-reliance with autarky. In a modern economy, development cannot be achieved by “doing everything alone.” To believe otherwise runs against any serious body of economic science, which shows that specialization, exchange, and interdependence are structural conditions of growth, not ideological deviations.
Likewise, the assumption that a long liberation struggle can automatically translate into an equally long period of endurance without tangible results is far from self-evident. Wartime discipline is not, in itself, a model of governance, and survival cannot be elevated into a permanent horizon. At this point, the crucial question is political before it is economic: was the population ever truly asked to bear the cost of these choices? Were they given the opportunity to decide whether this model of development—or rather, of deliberate non-development—was acceptable or not?”
Response by David Yeh
“Your critique presumes that interdependence is a neutral condition rather than a historically structured hierarchy. For societies emerging from domination, the issue is not whether exchange and specialization exist, but on what terms they occur and who captures the surplus they generate. What is dismissed as “autarky” is often a transitional strategy aimed at rebuilding decision-making capacity under conditions where integration has repeatedly meant subordination.
Similarly, the claim that endurance lacks political legitimacy overlooks the fact that the original social contract of liberation movements was forged precisely around sacrifice in exchange for sovereignty. While wartime discipline cannot substitute indefinitely for governance, neither can immediate material returns be the sole measure of political consent in a context where external constraints remain decisive. The relevant question, therefore, is not whether costs were borne, but whether viable alternatives existed that did not reproduce dependency under a differen name.”
My reply
“David Yeh Thank you for your response, which I find thoughtful and stimulating. I largely agree with your starting premise: there is no neutrality in international political and economic power relations, and interdependence is often shaped by historically asymmetric structures. This is precisely what dependency theory, since the 1960s, has convincingly argued, and it remains a relevant analytical framework.
However, that same theoretical tradition also presupposes a minimum degree of internal dynamism within the societies it examines, a space, however constrained, in which policies can be adopted to foster development and growth. This is where, in my view, the Eritrean case reveals its core problem. Thirty-five years after independence, Eritrea exhibits virtually no internal economic dynamics. Domestic production is minimal, foreign trade is almost nonexistent, and only very recently has the country begun exporting raw materials, largely in cooperation with foreign companies, particularly Chinese ones.
If one wishes to give some credit to the government’s intentions, it is fair to acknowledge the efforts made in building basic infrastructure, such as dams, and in providing elementary education and healthcare. Yet these efforts were not accompanied by policies capable of stimulating even the most basic forms of economic activity. As a result, the most dynamic segment of the population has been forced to emigrate, where it often succeeds in creating small businesses and productive initiatives. Had even a fraction of this energy been allowed to operate within the country, some tangible signs of development would likely have emerged.
In fact, such a process had begun in the early years following independence, roughly between 1991 and 1997, before being abruptly interrupted by the border war and never resumed. Since then, Eritrea has existed in a continuous, undeclared state of emergency that has effectively suspended any prospect of institutional normalization.
For this reason, my central argument is that the primary issue is not theoretical debates about autonomy or dependency as such, but the absence of institutional normality. Without functioning institutions, predictable rules, and minimal space for economic and social initiative, even the most carefully justified strategy of self-reliance risks becoming detached from material reality.”
His response
“Your argument is analytically strong but assumes conditions of institutional normality that Eritrea has never enjoyed. Since the 1998–2000 border war, Eritrea has existed in a prolonged no war, no peace environment, compounded by illegal UN sanctions from 2009 to 2011. These externally imposed constraints severely limited trade, finance, and policy space, and their later removal without policy change confirms their political nature.
The interruption of early post independence economic momentum was therefore not primarily institutional failure, but enforced militarization and resource diversion toward national survival. Under permanent security threat, economic liberalization and private-sector expansion were structurally constrained rather than simply neglected.
Despite this, Eritrea achieved measurable gains in basic infrastructure, water security, primary, secondary and graduate education, healthcare, and debt avoidance outcomes that indicate constrained institutional functionality rather than absence. Emigration, often cited as evidence of internal stagnation, reflects suppressed domestic potential under sanctions and insecurity, not a lack of human capacity.
The central issue, then, is not theoretical debates over autonomy versus dependency, but the systematic denial of institutional normality itself. Eritrea’s experience ultimately reinforces dependency theory’s core insight: yes development cannot be separated from coercive global power relations.”
My reply
“I understand your argument, but when you ask what viable alternatives existed, you are already moving onto a hypothetical plane. Dialectically, that is precisely the point: those alternatives were never even attempted. Without experimentation, without course correction, without a minimal plurality of options, it is difficult to argue that what we are dealing with was an unavoidable necessity rather than an ideologically frozen choice.
Moreover, the alternative has never been—neither in theory nor in practice—between total self-sufficiency on the one hand and external dependency on the other. Any normalized index or comparative analysis of development shows a wide spectrum of intermediate paths. Africa itself offers concrete examples of meaningful economic and social transformation over the past thirty years. Countries such as Rwanda or Morocco cannot plausibly be dismissed as merely externally directed, nor can it be denied that they have achieved significant internal development while retaining a degree of sovereign decision-making.
Thirty-five years is not a short time frame. It is more than sufficient to conduct a serious assessment of a model and, above all, to adjust economic and political choices over time in light of outcomes. When such adjustment does not occur, the problem cannot be attributed solely to external constraints; it points to an internal failure of institutional learning.
Finally, the use of the expression “economic democracy” is highly problematic. In political science there is a well-established category such as democratic centralism, but speaking of economic democracy presupposes the existence of a basic prerequisite: some form of real economic dynamism over which disagreement, deliberation, and political choice can meaningfully take place. In the Eritrean case, this foundation is absent. There is no genuine field of alternatives within which to agree or disagree, but rather an abstract model that remains just that—abstract.
From a comparative perspective, the closest analogy is the early phase of Maoist China: a rigid, ideologically driven system closed to empirical verification, which was later radically revised precisely because it had produced largely failure. After several decades, it is difficult to argue that posing the same critical question is illegitimate.”
His response
“your argument conflates the absence of ideal outcomes with the absence of constraint. Alternatives may exist in abstraction, but their feasibility is historically and materially conditioned. Eritrea’s choices emerged from a post liberation context defined by extreme security pressures, regional hostility, and sustained external interference, which sharply narrowed the space for experimentation you invoke. Comparison with cases like Rwanda or Morocco overlooks these structural differences and risks mistaking contingent success stories for universally available paths.
Moreover, the demand for continual “course correction” presumes institutional stability and policy autonomy that Eritrea has rarely possessed. Institutional rigidity can be read not only as ideological freeze but as a defensive adaptation under prolonged siege. Finally, dismissing “economic democracy” for lack of dynamism reverses causality: the concept was precisely an attempt to build developmental capacity under constraint, not a claim that such capacity already existed. Historical analogies to Maoist China, while rhetorically powerful, flatten distinct geopolitical and temporal contexts and therefore illuminate less than they suggest.”
My final reply
“I understand the emphasis you place on historical and material constraints, and to some extent I share it. It is obvious that Eritrea emerged in a context very different from that of many other countries, and that security pressures, regional hostility, and sustained external interference significantly narrowed the range of available choices. That said, the critical weakness in your argument is that the appeal to constraints risks turning into a form of exceptionalism, as if the Eritrean case were so unique that it could no longer be subjected to comparison or, ultimately, to any meaningful criteria of evaluation.
That contexts differ is self-evident. But if every negative outcome is explained solely by invoking exceptional conditions, the question ceases to be political and becomes almost metaphysical. At that point, no strategy can ever be assessed, because any failure can always be attributed to external factors. Analytically, this is a dead end.
We can also conduct a simple thought experiment. Suppose the strategic trajectory pursued by the Eritrean government—self-reliance, political autonomy, rejection of external dependence—were to continue for another twenty years in the same way: without consent, without engagement with civil society, without mechanisms of course correction. Fifty years after independence, would an outcome marked by persistent impoverishment, mass emigration of a young and capable population, disastrous economic indicators, and the absence of reliable statistical data still be justifiable by appealing to the original constraints?
Any coherent strategy must be assessed in the short, medium, and long term. At the level of abstract models, one might even agree in part with the rationale of strategic and political autonomy. But if, over time, this approach produces a near-collapse in quality of life, no real growth, and no accumulation of productive capacity, then the problem is not only the context, but the strategy itself—and above all the way it has been imposed.
Finally, interpreting institutional rigidity solely as a defensive adaptation overlooks a decisive element: the total absence of consent and exchange with society. Without feedback, transparency, or data, it becomes impossible to distinguish between resilience under constraint and simple political failure. At that point, invoking “economic democracy” not as a project to be realized but as a permanent justification for outcomes that never materialize risks inverting the relationship between means and ends.
P.S.
Thank you in any case for the exchange. I am simply a thirty-year-old who loves his country and wants to see it grow and develop. I also wish that debates like the one we are having could take place inside our country—within institutions, in parliament, in journals, and in internal political forums. As you know, they cannot. And that fact alone already says a great deal about the difficulties we are going through in this historical phase.”
His final response
“Taking your age into consideration, I like the seriousness of your critique, and I agree that constraints cannot become a blanket exemption from evaluation. Any argument that renders a political trajectory immune to judgment risks analytical dead ends.
Where I differ is in how constraints are interpreted. My point is not that Eritrea is beyond comparison, but that evaluation must be context sensitive rather than based on implicit benchmarks drawn from radically different historical and geopolitical conditions. The problem is not comparison itself, but false equivalence.
The charge of exceptionalism would apply only if Eritrea were treated as analytically incomparable. That is not my position. Comparisons remain necessary but they must be made against cases shaped by similar conditions of insecurity, external pressure, and delayed institutional consolidation. Otherwise, judgment risks becoming normative rather than explanatory.
Your thought experiment is valuable, but it assumes a static environment. Eritrea’s strategy of autonomy emerged under conditions of perceived existential threat, not as a purely ideological choice. One may argue legitimately that this perception has outlived its usefulness, but it cannot be dismissed as mere justification.
I agree most strongly with your critique regarding consent, feedback, and institutional learning. Even under constraint, the prolonged absence of internal debate, transparency, and data production is politically costly. At some point, defensive rigidity hardens into opacity, and autonomy risks collapsing into isolation.
If there is a point of convergence between our positions, it is this: constraints matter, but they cannot indefinitely suspend accountability. The alleged debates like this cannot occur openly inside Eritrea is itself a central part of the misunderstanding that we can discuss on.”
Conclusion
This exchange is not the first time I have found myself discussing these issues with people from very different backgrounds. Some are acquaintances or friends, others interlocutors who tend to embrace the Eritrean government’s narrative built around the myth of self-reliance and political independence. This perspective often fits within what has been described, by authors such as Samir Amin, as a form of campism: a tendency to view governments and policies that position themselves against multinational corporations, international financial institutions, neoliberal ideology, and the United States as inherently progressive or emancipatory. From this angle, phenomena such as globalization and interdependence are read as mere continuations of colonial domination, and countries like Eritrea, Venezuela, or others are treated as unique models that cannot be assessed through indicators such as GDP, trade flows, or conventional measures of economic performance, but only through their supposed historical singularity.
My doubt, and my counterargument, starts precisely here. This presumed strategic autonomy comes at an immense cost, and that cost is borne by societies that have already endured decades of resistance, sacrifice, and bloodshed. It is not unreasonable to expect that, after so much suffering, people should see tangible improvements in their quality of life, economic growth, and shared well-being. The issue is not about being heroic, or about being celebrated as a model that refuses to bend to globalization, but about finding a realistic and humane balance in a world where no country can truly live in isolation.
From my perspective, a policy of neutrality, a genuinely multilateral approach, and economic cooperation with as many partners as possible would be far more appropriate for a country of Eritrea’s strategic importance. Combined with serious economic and fiscal reforms and with functioning institutions, such an approach could deliver development and prosperity to the population without compromising national sovereignty.
Witnessing the recent high-level defection of the Getachew and Tsadkan group to the Prosperity Party, General Yohannes Gebremeskel being picked by Abiy Ahmed to lead the 2020-2022 offensive in Tigray, and General Samora (Mohammed) Yonus serving as Abiy Ahmed’s source of military intelligence, the formation of the Hara Meriet (free land) splinter Army may seem a new phenomenon in Tigrayan politics. Yet, for those familiar with TPLF politics, these events echo longstanding patterns—surrenders, capitulations, defections, and betrayals. To highlight that these are recurring features rather than exceptions, this short article will review similar defections and betrayals that occurred during the last 10 years (1980–1990) of TPLF’s 17-year armed struggle against the rule of Colonel Mengistu Hailemarim’s Military Junta.
The Defection of a TPLF official using a captured MI-24 helicopter from Samere, Tigray.
During the early 1980s, an Ethiopian MI-24 military helicopter mistakenly landed in a TPLF stronghold area called Samre, a small village 57 kilometers south of Mekelle. TPLF captured the MI-24 helicopter and its crew, covering it with tree branches to protect it from aerial attack. Transitioning from this incident to a notable example of defection, a few months later, a TPLF official who decided to defect to the Ethiopian Military Junta asked the captured helicopter crew to fly him in the vicinity of Samere village. He also invited two others, junior TPLF Cadres who oversaw the area. Once airborne, the TPLF official ordered the crew to head to Mekelle and land at the airport, now Alula Aba Nega International Airport. With radio communication disabled, there was no contact between the helicopter and the airport. When the long-lost helicopter circled to land, Ethiopian military officers hesitated before eventually allowing it down. Upon investigation, they discovered the TPLF official was a defector, and the two juniors had been misled. Accordingly, the two TPLF cadres were sent to prison and eventually may have been executed.
The Parallel of “Zendo” Army and Current Hara Meriet Splinter Group.
During the 1980s, the “Zendo” or Python army operated near Mekelle. This group, made up of TPLF defectors, was retrained by Lieutenant Wolde-Aregay Yohannes, who had a mixed Eritrean and Tigrean background. After graduating from the Ethiopian Harar Military Academy, Lieutenant Wolde-aregay joined the Eritrean Liberation Front (ELF). When the ELF was forced out of Eritrea by the Eritrean People’s Liberation Front (EPLF), he surrendered to the Ethiopian Military Junta and became the trainer for the Zendo defector Army. The Zendo army troubled TPLF by cutting supply lines, infiltrating areas around Mekelle, and targeting civil appointees. Their use of TPLF-style uniforms increased confusion among the population. The formation and actions of the current Hara Meriet splinter army echo the earlier Zendo army, showing how splinter groups of defectors continue to play similar disruptive roles in TPLF’s history.
The capitulation of Abraham Yayeh and Gebremedhin Araia.
The two former TPLF mid-level officials defected to Col. Mengistu Hailemariam’s Military Junta during the late 1980s. While Gebremedhin Araya served in the Finance and Logistics department of the TPLF, Abraham Yayeh described himself as a TPLF Diplomat based in Sudan. The two individuals were not only defectors but also comedians. They were very skilled in exploiting Colonel Mengistu’s feeling of loneliness and were his chief entertainers. They were the staples of Ethiopian TV and often appeared in the then-Military Junta’s Parliament. Colonel Mengistu was often seen laughing at the comedian-like speeches of the two individuals. The two individuals had deep hatred for TPLF and EPLF and expressed it without reservations. The surrender of Getachew and Tsadkan and the services of Mohammod Yonus and Yohannes Gebremeskel to the Prosperity Party are simply a continuation of such a long history of TPLF defections.
The History of Red Terror in Tigray and Its Parallel to Dr. Abraham’s Belay’s role in the 2020-2022 Tigray Civil War.
Ethiopian rulers have repeatedly used Tigreans against each other by offering power and money. In the 1970s, Tigrean leaders were central to carrying out the Red Terror in Tigray, rounding up and executing students, civil servants, and farmers suspected of TPLF or other clandestine connections. These acts were designed to instill fear and force obedience, commonly left victims’ bodies in the streets of Mekelle, and forbade families from reclaiming them. Leading Tigreans like Lieutenant Desta, Bahre, Tsegaluel, and an executioner named Kahsu were directly involved. Similarly, during the 2020-2022 Tigray Civil War, Dr. Abraham Belay held a key role in targeting Tigrayans. The main distinction is that Abraham Belay relied on modern technology, such as drones, while the Red Terror group used conventional firearms, showing how similar patterns recur with updated methods.
How did Ethiopian Leaders use the Tigrean Defectors?
It is difficult to say whether Tigrean Defectors had any significant effect on the TPLF’s Struggle against the Ethiopian rulers in Addis Ababa. However, they were important in waging a propaganda war against the TPLF and creating confusion and division among the Tigray people. For instance, Abraham Yayeh and Gebremedhin Araia may have given Colonel Mengistu’s Military Junta a false hope. But they never saved it from being defeated by the TPLF. In fact, when TPLF was getting closer to Addis Ababa, they themselves had to flee to Kenya and Uganda. Similarly, the Zendo defector Army may have obstructed TPLF operations around Mekelle, but it did not protect Colonel Mengistu’s Military Junta from being toppled. Accordingly, if someone believes Getachew, Tsadkan, Mohammod Yonus, and Yohannes Gebremeskel will save Abiy Ahmed, they do not know history. They are not more than seasonal headaches.
Conclusion,
The TPLF has often been susceptible to defections, capitulations, and betrayals. The current defections of Getachew Reda and Tsadkan, and Mohammod Yonus’s and Yohannes Gebremeskel’s choice to turn against the TPLF are not new. TPLF will likely reorganize itself and neutralize the Defector’s effort to sow conflict and division in the Tigray population. It may take time, but history leads us to believe that it is also a game TPLF played before.
Eternal Glory to Our Martyrs and Victory to the Masses.
End-of-Year Reflections and the Question of the Future
Which wish should mark the end of this year, what should we truly wish for 2026, especially for a country that has spent decades suspended between endurance and postponement? These are questions that return with a certain regularity, almost ritual in nature, especially when one tries to look beyond the immediacy of the present and measure the distance between what has been and what might still come. In the case of Eritrea, any assessment can only be complex and layered, resisting both easy self-exoneration and sweeping condemnation. On the one hand, it would be dishonest to ignore a degree of diplomatic vitality, a renewed visibility expressed through a series of high-level visits and meetings, from the Middle East and the Gulf to Egypt and Saudi Arabia, signals of an international posture that seeks autonomy and relevance. On the other hand, the most recent rupture, Eritrea’s withdrawal from the regional organisation IGAD, appears overall less a strategic leap forward than a step back. Not so much because of an abstract judgment on the organisation itself, but because the decision undermines a principle repeatedly affirmed by Eritrean leaders, namely trust, at least in principle, in multilateral cooperation as a tool of regional engagement.
Disengagement, Regional Politics, and the Elephant in the Room
What makes this choice even more problematic is the concrete context of recent years. After the reactivation of relations in 2023, following a long suspension that began in 2007, Eritrea did not participate meaningfully in the organisation’s meetings. To denounce IGAD today as ineffective or as a body bent to the interests of some of its members, while not entirely unfounded, leaves an unresolved question. What, in the meantime, was done to reform it from within? Absence, in regional politics, rarely translates into leverage. A strategy of disengagement, especially at the regional level, risks leaving the field open precisely to those dynamics it claims to oppose. Here, the elephant in the room remains evident, the Ethiopian leadership, which for years has used regional and international forums as instruments of pressure, first through the sanctions narrative, more recently through an overtly militarised rhetoric on access to the sea, in open contradiction with the principles of international law. Walking away from the table does not make the problem disappear, it often magnifies it, depriving those who leave of even an imperfect space for contestation and dialogue.
Domestic Signals Between Ambiguity and Pressure
Against this backdrop, the release of a number of prisoners who had been detained for more than eighteen years on political and religious grounds is undoubtedly a significant development, perhaps the most meaningful domestic signal in recent times. The fact that it occurred without any official communication from the government or state media highlights its ambiguity, a concrete act devoid of any articulated political framework. It is difficult not to interpret this decision also as the result of long-standing pressures, fuelled by repeated reports and findings from international organizations documenting arbitrary detention and the systematic absence of due process. In this sense, the release appears as a minimal yet necessary gesture, intended to suggest that something is moving, at least symbolically. At the same time, it exposes the limits of a governance model based on isolated acts, episodic concessions, pardons or amnesties dependent on the discretion of a few rather than on shared and binding rules.
The Necessary Wish: Enforcing the Constitution
This brings us to the real issue, the one that should guide any serious wish for the future. The question is not whether to release a few prisoners today or to stage another symbolic move tomorrow. The only authentic and structural objective is the enforcement of the Constitution. To bring the Constitution into force means to affirm a simple yet radical principle: no one may be detained without formal charges and a fair trial, and in their absence must be released within clearly defined limits. Were this principle applied, political prisoners would not have to wait for acts of clemency or sudden presidential amnesia to see the light of day. More than twenty-eight years after its adoption on 23 May 1997, Eritrea needs to return to that constitutional text, to establish a commission for constitutional review, and to reaffirm it as the highest source of legitimacy and law. Declaring once and for all that no one stands above the law is not merely a legal act, it is the foundation of a credible social contract. From there, economic and social reforms would follow as consequences rather than rhetorical promises. For future generations, this would mean a more cohesive country, confident in itself, capable of recognising and nurturing talent and competence under conditions of genuine equality. If the current leadership wishes to leave a lasting legacy, history will remember not gestures, but a single choice: whether the Constitution was finally enforced.
In the statement released on 12 December by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, through which Eritrea formally notified the IGAD Secretariat of its decision to withdraw from the organization, a long political trajectory is deliberately recalled. Eritrea points to the pivotal role it played in the revitalization of IGAD in 1993, at a moment when the organization was envisioned as more than a diplomatic forum: it was meant to become a political space capable of anchoring peace, security, and regional economic integration in the Horn of Africa. Eritrea’s accession at the time was not merely a formal act, but a substantive political investment in a regional vision that sought to overcome both internal fragmentation and excessive external mediation. It is precisely this historical premise that gives today’s decision its weight. To withdraw from an institution one helped to build is not simply to sever an administrative tie; it is to acknowledge the exhaustion of a political wager that once pointed toward a different regional future.
When an Institution Loses Its Center
The communiqué uses unusually blunt language in stating that IGAD has “forfeited its legal mandate and authority.” This charge is not directed at a single episode, but at a long-term institutional drift that, in Eritrea’s view, has transformed IGAD from a vehicle of regional cooperation into a selective political instrument, shaped by shifting power balances and deployed against specific member states. Eritrea recalls that this perception already led to the suspension of its membership in 2007, following what it described as unwarranted and damaging actions. The critique itself is not without merit, yet it raises a more uncomfortable question. If IGAD has indeed lost its normative core and functional purpose, how did it become impossible, over the course of three decades, to mobilize collective pressure from within to correct its trajectory? Withdrawal may be coherent as an act of protest, but it also signals a deeper resignation: the abandonment of the idea that regional institutions, however distorted, can still be contested, reformed, and reclaimed through sustained political engagement.
The Rhetoric of Cooperation and the Vacuum It Leaves Behind
There is a visible tension between this decision and the broader narrative that has long accompanied Eritrea’s foreign policy. Senior officials consistently emphasize the value of regional and international organizations as instruments of dialogue, peace, and shared development. Yet the 12 December statement concludes that IGAD offers no discernible strategic benefit and fails to contribute meaningfully to regional stability. Even if one accepts this assessment, its implications are difficult to ignore. Eritrea’s bilateral relations with countries such as Sudan, South Sudan, and Somalia may indeed be constructive, but bilateral diplomacy cannot replace a structured regional framework. Without a common institutional platform, cooperation remains exposed to political volatility, sudden crises, and leadership changes. Walking away from a regional organization—even a deeply flawed one—means accepting a fragmented regional order in which coordination gives way to ad hoc arrangements and fragile understandings.
Isolation as an Outcome, Not a Strategy
Ultimately, Eritrea’s withdrawal from IGAD appears coherent in its diagnosis but fragile in its forward-looking vision. The Ministry’s statement offers a compelling account of past grievances, yet remains largely silent on what replaces the abandoned institutional space. Exiting a regional organization is almost always a historical defeat, even when framed as an assertion of political dignity. Isolation is rarely a strategy; more often, it is the cumulative result of unresolved conflicts and exhausted channels. If IGAD is ineffective, politicized, or structurally distorted, the more ambitious response would have been to remain and force its contradictions into the open, turning institutional conflict into a catalyst for reform. Leaving instead cedes the field to precisely the dynamics being criticized and reinforces the notion that regional multilateralism is inherently irredeemable. This is perhaps the deepest cost of the decision: not the withdrawal itself, but the renunciation of a political struggle that, however arduous, remained the only credible alternative to the solitude of choice.
Eritrea has formally withdrawn its membership from the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD), concluding that the regional bloc has forfeited its legal mandate, credibility, and strategic relevance. The decision was officially communicated to the IGAD Secretary General, according to a press release issued by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Asmara.
In a measured but firm statement, Eritrea traced its withdrawal to a long record of institutional failure, politicization, and selective targeting that, in its view, has hollowed out IGAD’s original purpose. Eritrea’s move marks not a sudden rupture, but the end of a prolonged effort to reform an organization it once helped to build.
Eritrea was among the pivotal actors in the revitalization of IGAD in 1993, advocating for a regional body capable of enhancing peace, stability, and economic integration in the Horn of Africa. At the time, IGAD was envisioned as a practical mechanism rooted in mutual respect among sovereign states, not a platform for political maneuvering.
However, Eritrea argues that this vision steadily eroded. By 2005, the organization had begun, in Eritrea’s assessment, to drift away from its statutory obligations, increasingly serving as a tool against certain member states rather than a neutral forum for regional cooperation. These developments led Eritrea to suspend its membership in April 2007.
After more than a decade outside the bloc, Eritrea reactivated its IGAD membership in June 2023. That decision, the Ministry noted, was driven by cautious optimism that the organization might correct course, undertake genuine reform, and address its past conduct. Eritrea publicly called for institutional renewal and a recommitment to legality, impartiality, and regional balance.
Those expectations, Eritrea now says, were not met.
“IGAD has and continues to renege on its statutory obligations,” the statement reads, concluding that the organization has undermined its own relevance and authority. As a result, Eritrea finds no justification for remaining within a structure that offers “no discernible strategic benefit” to its constituencies and fails to contribute meaningfully to regional stability.
The withdrawal reflects a broader Eritrean position on regional engagement: cooperation must be anchored in sovereignty, equality, and clear legal mandates, not rhetoric or pressure politics. From Asmara’s perspective, regional institutions that deviate from these principles risk becoming liabilities rather than instruments of peace.
Eritrea’s exit also raises uncomfortable questions for IGAD itself. Once promoted as the central platform for addressing security and development challenges in the Horn of Africa, the organization now faces renewed scrutiny over its effectiveness, neutrality, and internal coherence. Eritrea’s decision underscores a growing skepticism toward multilateral frameworks that exist in form but struggle to deliver substance.
Asmara emphasized that withdrawal from IGAD does not signal isolationism or hostility toward regional cooperation. Rather, it reflects a refusal to legitimize institutions that, in Eritrea’s assessment, have lost their way. Eritrea maintains that durable regional stability can only be built on respect for sovereignty, adherence to law, and partnerships that are genuinely reciprocal.
As the Horn of Africa navigates a period of shifting alliances and unresolved conflicts, Eritrea’s move stands as a clear statement of principle: regional integration cannot be sustained by empty institutions, and legitimacy cannot be claimed without accountability.
Ethiopia’s new diplomatic confidence has produced a chorus of claims, and the latest piece published in Ahmaric through the Ethiopian Broadcasting Corporation’s Facebook page tries to stretch that chorus into an anthem. It argues that the Red Sea is incomplete without Ethiopia, that regional security bends in its absence, and that foreign military visits signal an emerging consensus that Ethiopia must “return” to the coast.
A coastline, however, is not awarded through narration. A sea does not extend itself because someone has polished a flattering story around it. There is a riddle known among sailors that defines the Ethiopian self flattery: who protects the waters the one who wakes beside them every day, or the traveler who arrives only when the heat inland becomes unbearable? The answer has not changed, no matter how many press statements try to disguise it.
The Red Sea Has Its Own Memory
The EBC article claims that instability followed Ethiopia’s “exit” from the Red Sea, as if the Red sea has been longing for Addis Ababa ever since. But the only “presence” Ethiopia ever had on the coast came from Eritrea’s annexation a chapter closed by Eritreans, not by diplomatic paperwork.
That history is not contested. It is archived. And archives do not bend to political convenience. One old saying travels from market to market: the road built by force will crumble when you try to walk it with borrowed dignity.
The Ethiopian narrative posted on November 29 tries to revive a memory that never belonged to it.
Foreign Endorsements Do Not Create Coastlines
The EBC piece recites the names of American commanders, French officers, Gulf defense ministers all presented as if they were maritime priests blessing Ethiopia’s ambitions.
Routine military cooperation becomes a “signal.” Diplomatic courtesy becomes “recognition.” Training programs become “endorsement.”
Yet none of these actors have claimed Ethiopia deserves another nation’s coast. Not in any transcript. Not in any communique. Borders do not move because a foreign general shook someone’s hand. Seas do not shift allegiance because diplomats exchange smiles. As they say, admiration does not fill the nets. Similarly, admiration does not confer maritime rights.
Eritrea’s sovereignty does not expand or shrink based on foreign compliments. It rests on law, history, and sacrifice a foundation Ethiopia has never been able to challenge through facts, only through narratives.
The Red Sea Requires Stability — Not Ambition
The EBC post asserts that Ethiopia’s absence created a “haven for insurgents.” Yet the most persistent insurgencies in the region today erupt within Ethiopia’s own borders. A state that cannot secure its provinces cannot declare itself guardian of one of the world’s busiest maritime corridors.
There is a quiet warning embedded in an old line from elders who worry about storms: the house that leaks cannot protect its neighbor from the rain. Ethiopia’s ambition, framed as security responsibility, proves hollow when the country itself remains fragile, internally divided, and consumed by political turbulence.
Security Must Be Demonstrated — Not Claimed
Eritrea’s coastline has been secure not because of grand speeches, but because its conduct has been consistent: stable borders, firm anti-piracy posture, and no reliance on foreign armies to police its waters.
If the Red Sea chose guardians by merit, it would choose those who have lived with it, defended it, and respected the sovereignty around it not those who claim stewardship because of size, nostalgia, or political marketing. A camel may be large, but it does not know how to move with the tide.
Ethiopia’s proposed navy built through foreign training, based on foreign financing, and anchored on foreign shores does not represent maritime capacity. It represents maritime longing. A spear without a warrior is still just a stick.
Sovereignty Is Not a Negotiable Currency
The heart of the EBC narrative is the belief that Ethiopia’s scale and diplomatic charm should bend the region into accommodating its desires. But sovereignty cannot be softened by political pressure or decorated by external praise.
Eritrea’s borders were decided in international law and defended through the blood of its people. That reality cannot be renegotiated because an article wants to turn diplomatic visits into historical revisionism.
If Ethiopia seeks lawful cooperation, Eritrea has never closed the door. But if it seeks entitlement dressed as “security responsibility,” the door remains firmly shut. There is a quiet truth repeated by those who understand land and lineage: the tree planted on another man’s soil will not recognize you when you come to claim its fruit. So the Red Sea is not Ethiopia’s fruit to claim.
Conclusion
The article posted on EBC’s platform in Amharic tries to manufacture an image of Ethiopia as the indispensable pillar of Red Sea security, becasue foreign military officers and generals visited Ethiopia. But foreign praise is not sovereignty. Military visits are not maritime rights. And ambition is not a substitute for conduct. The Red Sea does not reward those who insist loudly. It rewards those who act with discipline, respect, and stability. And since its independence, Eritrea has done exactly that.
There are interviews that introduce a politician, and there are interviews that expose the environment that produced him. Getachew Reda’s appearance on Head to Head did the latter. It offered a window into a restless Ethiopian political system, spoken through the voice of a man who has learnedperha ps painfully that survival in Ethiopian politics requires constant reinvention.
The Getachew who appeared in London was not the wartime spokesman who once hurled accusations with the confidence of a man who believed the world was on his side. This version was softened, cautious, almost pastoral. His tone floated like incense pleasant, but used to mask something heavier underneath. What he tried to hide with gentleness revealed more than his words intended.
This is not a story about Getachew’s personal evolution. It is a story about what his evolution signals, although he stated that he has “just grown,” not evolved.
Reassurance as a Red Flag
When asked whether Ethiopia and Eritrea were drifting toward war, Getachew offered a sentence so vague it seemed designed to blur the very fear it sought to address: “I don’t expect that to lead to war, at least not in the foreseeable future.”
Such language is not assurance. It is the kind of phrasing politicians use when the horizon holds more uncertainty than they can safely admit, or in Getachew’s case, it seems he is deliberately attempting to mislead. He then appealed to sentiment: “I believe President Isaias and Prime Minister Abiy will find it in their hearts to… diffuse the crisis.”
Invoking “hearts” in a geopolitical crisis is an attempt to replace clarity with warmth. Nations do not defend their sovereignty with emotion. They defend it with truth, legitimacy, and preparedness.
And while Getachew comforted the audience with soft imagery, someone on the panel refused to indulge the theatre. The suddenly found uncomfortable honesty of Professor Tronvoll.
A known TPLF advocate, Professor Kjetil Tronvoll broke the polite atmosphere with a direct statement: “I think the war is coming, and it’s coming pretty soon.” His explanation was not rooted in speculation. It was rooted in Ethiopia’s own public record: PM Abiy Ahmed’s speeches, and state-run media programs. The professor stressed, with a warning tone:
“Ethiopia is ticking off every box of claiming a right to self-defense accusing Eritrea of destabilization… submitting a letter to the UN… saying: ‘We want peace, but not for too long.’”
Ethiopia always prepares its conflicts on paper long before it prepares them on the ground. Anyone who lived through the long arc of Eritrea’s struggle knows this pattern well. Documents precede mobilization. Narrative precedes action.
Getachew’s attempt to soften the outlook could not eclipse this reality. Ethiopia’s Elite: Not Misspeaking, but Signaling While he whispers diplomacy abroad, the Ethiopian political class is speaking with striking clarity at home. In case anyone asks for proof;-
Abiy Ahmed: “We will correct the historical error. Ethiopia will not remain landlocked.” Field Marshal Birhanu Jula: “We will make any sacrifice to secure Ethiopia’s access to the sea.” Ambassador Nebiyu Tedla: “Maritime access is an existential necessity.” and so on….
Each statement is a stone in the same structure. This is not spontaneous rhetoric. It is a carefully aligned posture. Getachew in London speaks like a man trying to keep a bridge from burning. His government speaks like a state preparing the ground for justification.
A Man Rewriting Himself
Throughout the interview, Getachew seemed engaged in the delicate task of reshaping his past positions to fit his new political context. He once accused Abiy Ahmed of authoritarian excess. He now says he supports “restoring Ethiopia’s greatness.” He once warned of Abiy’s dangerous posture toward Eritrea. He now insists he never predicted conflict. He once spoke clearly about genocide. Now he speaks as if the truth is a puzzle with missing pieces.
Such shifts are not ideological maturity. They are the survival mechanics of Ethiopian elite politics, where principles bend before ambition and memory becomes a tool rather than a guide.
Yet even within his evasions, truths slipped out: admissions of fallout with Eritrea, acknowledgment of instability in Ethiopia, recognition of political fracture. The unspoken tension was louder than anything he articulated.
Biserat Lemesa and the Fantasy of a “Lost Coast”
If Getachew avoided direct contradiction, Biserat Lemesa walked confidently into historical distortion. He declared that Ethiopia “lost its coastal territories” through a flawed process. This is not simply wrong it is the foundation of a dangerous narrative.
Ethiopia never possessed a coastline as a sovereign state. The only time Ethiopia had control over the Red Sea was during its illegal annexation of Eritrea, achieved by dismantling the UN-mandated federation. That control was occupation, not ownership.
You cannot lose a coastline that never belonged to you in the first place. (How many times should we say this?) Biserat’s comment was not an error. It was a rhetorical construction a seed planted to justify future claims. Ethiopia’s coastal amnesia has become the intellectual fuel of its renewed expansionist aspiration.
This is my reflection on the interview, and I guess like every Eritrean I am smart enough to recognize the pattern here. Eritrea does not need prophetic warnings to understand what is unfolding. This region has danced to these beats before.
Step by step, Ethiopia is rehearsing a familiar sequence: Create a grievance. Declare it existential. Mobilize legal arguments (so they think). Move forces under the language of “self-defense.” Frame ambition as necessity. Professor Tronvoll saw the pattern that Eritrea knows and lived.
Conclusion
Getachew’s gentleness cloaked a system that is preparing the intellectual ground for confrontation. Biserat’s revisionism attempted to turn annexation into inheritance. Abiy’s rhetoric frames expansion as correction. This is not about the sea. It is about narrative invention. And Eritrea must guard that front with the same vigilance it guards its borders.
Something that Ethiopian elites need to remember clearly is that Ethiopia did not “lose” a coastline. It lost an occupation. Eritrea did not “take” ports from Ethiopia. Eritrea defeated the occupying army and reclaimed what was always its own historically, legally, and morally.
Something else that needs to be clear to Ethiopian elites is that Eritrea’s sovereignty is not negotiable. Its coastline is not a colonial accident. Its borders are not a misprint. The Red Sea is Eritrea’s window to the world earned in struggle, affirmed in law, and protected with unbroken resolve. And that is the truth no amount of revisionism can erase.
The Trump administration has ordered a full review of all green cards issued to immigrants from 19 “countries of concern,” including Eritrea, after an Afghan national was identified as the suspect in a Washington, DC shooting that left two National Guard members wounded.
Eritreans had no connection to the incident, yet thousands of lawful permanent residents now face new scrutiny. USCIS said it will apply “negative, country-specific factors” in its reexamination, but provided no Eritrea-specific explanation.
The move has caused anxiety among Eritrean families in the United States, many of whom already passed extensive vetting before receiving their status. Community advocates warn the decision appears driven by political pressure, not evidence.
Immigration lawyers say the scope and criteria of the review remain unclear, leaving affected residents waiting for guidance while the administration signals a broader immigration crackdown.
