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A Persistent Threat: International Law and Ethiopia’s New Maritime Ambitions

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On 9 July 2018, in Asmara, Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed and Eritrean President Isaias Afewerki signed a historic peace agreement, officially ending a latent conflict that had begun in 1998 and continued for nearly two decades in a state of “no war, no peace.” The treaty finally recognized the legitimacy of the Eritrea-Ethiopia Boundary Commission (EEBC), established by the Algiers Agreement of 2000, which awarded contested areas, including the town of Badme, to Eritrea. For this diplomatic breakthrough, Abiy Ahmed was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2019. However, that optimism was short-lived. Since 2023, the Ethiopian government has resumed an assertive rhetoric on the issue of access to the sea, raising questions about the durability of peace and respect for international law. The Prime Minister’s statements, in which he declared Ethiopia’s readiness to pursue access to the sea “through peaceful means or, if necessary, by other instruments,” reopen unresolved wounds and pose a serious threat to regional stability.

Access to the Sea and International Law: The Status of Landlocked States

Ethiopia’s geographic position as a landlocked country is a condition shared by 44 other states worldwide. International maritime law, codified in the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), adopted in Montego Bay in 1982 and in force since 1994, provides a legal framework for regulating the rights and obligations of coastal and landlocked states. Part X of the Convention (Articles 124–132) specifically addresses the rights of landlocked states, recognizing their right of access to and from the sea through the territories of transit states, based on bilateral or multilateral agreements.

Article 125, paragraph 1, establishes that “landlocked States shall have the right of access to and from the sea and freedom of transit through the territory of transit States by all means of transport.” However, paragraph 2 clarifies that the exercise of this right “shall be by mutual agreement of the States concerned” and cannot be imposed unilaterally. In other words, international law does not authorize any automatic territorial concessions or access to port infrastructures unless agreed upon by the parties. Demographic size or economic power is not a valid legal criterion for claiming maritime access or sovereign control over another state’s territory.

International Precedents: The Cases of Bolivia and Austria

Two emblematic cases illustrate how access to the sea for landlocked countries is addressed through legal and diplomatic means: Bolivia and Austria. The first concerns the long-standing dispute between Bolivia and Chile, in which Bolivia has claimed sovereign access to the Pacific Ocean since 1904, after losing its coastline in the War of the Pacific (1879–1884). In 2018, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) issued a clear ruling: while acknowledging Bolivia’s legitimate interest in securing a corridor to the sea, it concluded that Chile had no legal obligation to negotiate sovereign access. The ruling reaffirmed that a state’s territorial sovereignty is inviolable unless explicitly relinquished through mutual consent.

The second case is Austria, which became landlocked after the dissolution of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Today, through bilateral agreements with Slovenia, Italy, and Germany, Austria makes use of ports such as Trieste, Koper, and Hamburg for its commercial and industrial needs without claiming sovereignty or extraterritorial rights. These cases demonstrate that international law favors cooperation and negotiated arrangements over unilateral demands or historical justifications.

Ethiopian Claims Between Historical Ambiguity and Demographic Assertiveness

In Ethiopia’s case, claims to a “historic” or “natural” right to sea access are unfounded on multiple levels. Not only do they lack legal merit, but they are also questionable from a historical standpoint. While Ethiopia may have exercised nominal control over certain coastal territories during brief imperial or colonial episodes, it has never developed a substantive maritime tradition or established effective sovereignty over port infrastructures. For centuries, the coastal regions were inhabited and administered by distinct communities, often under Ottoman, Egyptian, or Italian influence, until the formation of modern Eritrea. Eritrea’s independence, formally recognized in 1993 following a popular referendum and international recognition, established a clear and legally binding border: Ethiopia has been a landlocked state both de facto and de jure ever since.

The second justification advanced by the Ethiopian government concerns its growing demographic pressure. With over 120 million inhabitants and projections estimating a population of 150 million by 2050, it is argued that such a large country “cannot remain landlocked.” While rhetorically persuasive, this argument has no basis in international law. The international system is built on the principle of sovereign equality among states (United Nations Charter, Article 2), not on population size or geographic extent. Accepting such logic would legitimize geopolitical hegemony and undermine the very foundations of international law and peaceful coexistence.

Toward a Peace Based on Law and Mutual Respect

The stability of the Horn of Africa cannot be secured through displays of force, strategic allusions, or expansionist ambitions disguised as economic necessity. Ethiopia’s aspirations for greater maritime access are legitimate only insofar as they are pursued within the framework of multilateral agreements, economic partnerships, and customs arrangements that fully respect the territorial sovereignty of its neighbors. It is important to recall that Article 2 of the United Nations Charter prohibits the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity of any state. Any scenario of unilateral pressure or political coercion against Eritrea would violate this principle and expose Ethiopia to international accountability.

The only sustainable and lawful path to the sea lies in regional cooperation. A politically stable and economically integrated Ethiopia could negotiate beneficial logistical agreements with neighboring countries, including the use of Assab or other regional ports such as Djibouti or Berbera. Any other approach, based on fabricated historical claims or the transformation of demographic dynamics into geopolitical leverage, would only drag the Horn of Africa back into an era of suspicion, instability, and conflict.

It is time to return to the spirit of 2018, to value the opportunities offered by economic integration grounded in respect for borders and sovereignty, and to reject all imperial nostalgia. Peace is never a finished act but a process nourished by justice, legality, and political will. Only on this basis can the region build a future where international law is not the language of abstraction but the foundation of concrete coexistence.

Bibliography

United Nations. United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea. Montego Bay, 1982.

International Court of Justice. Obligation to Negotiate Access to the Pacific Ocean (Bolivia v. Chile), Judgment of 1 October 2018.

United Nations. Charter of the United Nations. San Francisco, 1945.

African Union. Constitutive Act of the African Union. Lomé, 2000.

Geneva Academy. The Right of Landlocked States to Access the Sea. Briefing No. 14, 2022.

Who Gets to Tell the Story?

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A new report from The Sentry titled “Power and Plunder” claims to uncover the truth about the Eritrean Defense Forces’ role in the Tigray conflict. But behind the headlines lies a deeply flawed narrative that demands scrutiny.

engAs Eritrea and Tigray begin a delicate process of reconciliation, this report drops into the international conversation at a suspiciously convenient moment. Families are reuniting. Borders are opening. People-to-people ties are being restored after years of devastating war. And just when there’s real movement toward lifting long-standing sanctions on Eritrea, a dramatic 70-page dossier appears, portraying the Eritrean Defense Forces not just as participants in war, but as central villains.

Setit Media reviewed the report in full. Our conclusion: this is not an objective investigation. It is a politically charged narrative designed to derail regional peace and maintain Eritrea’s diplomatic isolation.

The People Behind The Sentry

The Sentry was co-founded by Hollywood actor George Clooney and John Prendergast, a former adviser to the U.S. National Security Council and State Department. Prendergast is no neutral observer. He played a central role during the Clinton administration in efforts to pressure Eritrea during the 1998 to 2000 war with Ethiopia.

This history matters. It shapes the lens through which Eritrea is viewed. When the same figures who spent years attempting to weaken Eritrea are now producing reports calling for sanctions and criminal investigations, the conflict of interest is too large to ignore.

A One-Sided Narrative

The report accuses the Eritrean Defense Forces of committing atrocities, including mass killings, sexual violence, looting, and cross-border smuggling. It names individuals, outlines alleged command structures, and recommends targeted sanctions and prosecutions.

What it does not do is place any significant responsibility on the other armed actors involved in the Tigray conflict.

There is minimal discussion of the Ethiopian National Defense Forces. The Tigray People’s Liberation Front, which launched the war in November 2020, is barely mentioned. There is no serious acknowledgment of the TPLF’s use of child soldiers, attacks on civilians, or its own documented war economy.

This selective focus undermines the credibility of the report. War crimes must be investigated wherever they occur, not only where it is politically convenient.

The “Woyane” Misdirection

One telling example of misrepresentation is the report’s claim that Eritrean officials have used derogatory language toward the Tigrayan people, citing the term “Woyane” as proof.

This is false and misleading.

“Woyane” is the term used by the TPLF itself. It is not an ethnic insult. Eritrean state rhetoric targets the TPLF as a political and military organization, not the people of Tigray. By collapsing this distinction, the report seeks to portray political opposition as ethnic hatred.

This is not a mistake. It is a calculated tactic to frame Eritrea as ethnically hostile, thereby justifying the continued international pressure and sanctions.

Timing and Intent

This report did not emerge in a vacuum. It was released just as momentum builds toward peace between Eritrea and Tigray. Public support for reconciliation is rising on both sides of the border. There is growing international consideration for lifting sanctions on Eritrea.

The report’s timing is deliberate. It seeks to disrupt this progress, to reopen wounds, and to freeze Eritrea’s diplomatic rehabilitation. Rather than supporting peace, it attempts to halt it.

What the Report Ignores

The Sentry’s report avoids critical questions. It does not explore the foreign role in fueling the conflict. It ignores evidence of TPLF involvement in regional smuggling networks. It remains silent on the ENDF’s use of drones and artillery in civilian areas. And it completely omits discussion of Western surveillance or intelligence operations during the war.

This silence is not accidental. It is strategic. It frames the EDF as uniquely violent and criminal, while shielding other actors from equal scrutiny.

Eritrea’s Real Crime: Independence

It must be said plainly. Eritrea’s greatest offense in the eyes of many Western institutions is not what it did in the Tigray conflict. It is the fact that it operates outside of U.S. military influence, rejects AFRICOM presence, and maintains a foreign policy free from dependency.

This independence is treated not as sovereignty, but as defiance. And The Sentry’s report reflects this hostility.

What We Stand For
Setit Media is not here to excuse war crimes or whitewash any side’s actions. If abuses occurred, they must be investigated transparently and fairly.

But we reject one-sided narratives produced by organizations with clear institutional bias, backed by funders who have long opposed Eritrea’s sovereignty.

Accountability must be led by Africans. Peace must be rooted in truth, not manipulation. And justice cannot be built on propaganda.

Final Reflection
The war in Tigray devastated lives. No one comes out untouched. But we must resist attempts to turn that pain into a weapon. The people of Eritrea and Tigray deserve healing. They deserve dialogue. They deserve to tell their own stories, on their own terms.

Reports like The Sentry’s do not help. They distort. They divide. And they delay peace.

We encourage all readers, journalists, diplomats, and concerned citizens to ask the most important question of all:

Who benefits from this narrative, and who is being silenced?

“Genocide: Legal Definition and Political Misuse”

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In the aftermath of the Ethiopian civil war, which took place from November 2020 to November 2022, the term genocide has been frequently invoked, particularly in reference to Eritrea’s involvement alongside the Ethiopian federal government against the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF). Such claims, however, often appear disconnected from the international legal framework that governs the use of this word, turning a strictly defined legal category into an instrument of political and propagandistic struggle. It is essential, instead, to restore conceptual and legal precision to the term genocide, avoiding the propagation of narratives that, rather than fostering justice, hinder any prospect of reconciliation. Otherwise, the risk is to entrench permanent hostility between neighboring and historically intertwined peoples by distorting and instrumentalizing concepts that carry profound moral and legal weight.

What the Genocide Convention says

The term genocide has a clear and binding legal definition under the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, adopted by the United Nations General Assembly on December 9, 1948. Article II of the Convention defines genocide as “any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group.” These acts include: killing members of the group, causing serious bodily or mental harm, deliberately inflicting conditions of life calculated to bring about the group’s physical destruction, imposing measures intended to prevent births, and forcibly transferring children. This definition relies on two constitutive elements: the actus reus (the physical act) and a specific mens rea, that is, the deliberate intent to destroy a group as such. This latter component — the “intent to destroy” — is what sets genocide apart from other serious violations of international law, such as war crimes or crimes against humanity.

Genocide, crimes against humanity, and war crimes: crucial distinctions

In civil wars and internal armed conflicts, crimes are unfortunately common. However, referring indiscriminately to genocide whenever massacres or systematic violence occur obscures the essential distinctions between different categories of international crimes. War crimes are serious violations of the Geneva Conventions or international humanitarian law and include attacks against civilians, indiscriminate destruction, torture, and sexual violence. Crimes against humanity, as defined by the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, are acts committed as part of a widespread or systematic attack against a civilian population — such as persecution, deportation, and extermination — but do not necessarily involve an intent to destroy an entire group. Only genocide presupposes such an intent. The confusion or conflation of these concepts is often driven by political agendas rather than grounded legal evaluations. And yet, only competent authorities — such as the International Criminal Court or, in inter-state disputes, the International Court of Justice — can determine the existence of genocide through investigations, evidence gathering, witness testimony, and analysis of official orders and documents.

The need for caution and the danger of misuse

 

Nearly three years after the end of the conflict between the Ethiopian federal government and the TPLF, no formal investigation has been launched by the International Criminal Court, nor has any pronouncement been made by the International Court of Justice regarding the legal qualification of the crimes committed as genocide. Despite this, the term continues to be employed generically and accusatorily by political and intellectual actors, sometimes explicitly to prevent any dialogue between the people of Tigray and Eritrea. However, the political use of the word genocide risks causing long-term damage: it fuels a one-sided traumatic memory, entrenches intercommunal division, and makes any prospect of peace nearly impossible. International justice demands time, rigor, and impartiality. It is necessary to acknowledge the gravity of the crimes committed, pursue truth and accountability, but also avoid an inflated and improper use of legal terms that ultimately delegitimizes the justice process itself. In a post-conflict context, words must be chosen carefully — not to deny suffering, but to honor it with the precision it deserves.

Bibliography
1. United Nations. Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide. Adopted December 9, 1948. https://www.un.org/en/genocideprevention/documents/atrocity-crimes/Doc.1_Convention%20on%20the%20Prevention%20and%20Punishment%20of%20the%20Crime%20of%20Genocide.pdf
2. Schabas, William A. Genocide in International Law: The Crime of Crimes. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009.
3. Power, Samantha. A Problem from Hell: America and the Age of Genocide. New York: Basic Books, 2002.
4. Straus, Scott. Fundamentals of Genocide and Mass Atrocity Prevention. Washington, DC: United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, 2016.
5. Chalk, Frank, and Kurt Jonassohn. The History and Sociology of Genocide: Analyses and Case Studies. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990.
6. Totten, Samuel, William S. Parsons, and Israel W. Charny, eds. Century of Genocide: Critical Essays and Eyewitness Accounts. New York: Routledge, 2012.
7. International Criminal Court. Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court. The Hague: ICC, 1998. https://www.icc-cpi.int/sites/default/files/RS-Eng.pdf

Disclaimer

The views and opinions titled "“Genocide: Legal Definition and Political Misuse”", are those of Filmon Yemane and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Setit Media. ኣብዚ "“Genocide: Legal Definition and Political Misuse”", ዘርእስቱ ጽሑፍ ተገሊጹ ዘሎ ርእይቶን ሓሳብን ናይ Filmon Yemane እምበር መትከላትን መርገጽን ሰቲት ሚዲያ ዘንጸባርቕ ኣይኮነን።

Oromummaa and the Reimagination of Oromo Identity: Cultural Ideology, Political Mobilization, and Geopolitical Tensions in the Horn of Africa

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Photo Credit: Addis Standard

Abstract
Oromummaa—the concept of “Oromo-ness”— has emerged as a foundational ideology for contemporary Oromo political, cultural, and national identity. While the term is a recent linguistic innovation, its conceptual roots are deeply embedded in traditional Oromo institutions, particularly the Gadaa system, Safuu (moral order), and oral literature. This article examines the historical development, political articulation, and regional implications of Oromummaa. It traces its evolution from pre-colonial cultural frameworks through its ideological formalization by diaspora intellectuals, notably Asafa Jalata, and its central role in modern Oromo nationalist movements such as the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF) and the Qeerroo youth movement. In the diaspora, Oromummaa functions as both a cultural anchor and a political tool, reinforcing identity while enabling transnational activism. The article also addresses the contentious role of Oromummaa within Ethiopia’s ethnic federalism, where competing nationalisms and territorial claims have led to interethnic friction, especially with Amhara, Somali, and Afar groups. Additionally, it considers the geopolitical concerns raised by Eritrea and other regional actors in response to perceived Oromo ascendancy.

Through a strategic forecasting framework (2025-2030), the study outlines three potential trajectories for Oromummaa: civic reform, ethnic polarization, and state fragmentation. The findings highlight the importance of cultivating inclusive and pluralistic interpretations of Oromo identity to ensure stability in Ethiopia and the Horn of Africa.
Keywords: Oromummaa, Oromo nationalism, ethnic federalism, diaspora politics, Ethiopia, Horn of Africa, Gadaa system
Introduction
The emergence of Oromummaa as both a cultural identity and political ideology marks a significant transformation in the historical trajectory of Oromo self-definition. Within the framework of Ethiopia’s ethnically based federal system, Oromummaa has come to represent not only a reclamation of suppressed identity but also a framework for political mobilization and resistance. This paper explores the conceptual evolution of Oromummaa, its roots in Oromo traditions, its modern articulation by intellectuals and activists, and its geopolitical implications in a rapidly changing Horn of Africa.
Etymology and Conceptual Foundations
The term Oromummaa combines “Oromo” with the suffix -ummaa, meaning “-ness” or “state of being” in Afaan Oromo (Jalata, 2008). While the term itself gained currency in the late twentieth century, the concept it expresses— Oromo identity, culture, values, and worldview— has a much older lineage. It draws heavily from traditional institutions such as the Gadaa system, a cyclical and age-graded system of governance, and Safuu, the Oromo code of ethical conduct and social responsibility (Hassen, 1990; Buicha, 2011).
These cultural frameworks have historically governed community relations, leadership transitions, justice systems, and spiritual life. Oromummaa, therefore, is not an invention of modern nationalism but a revival and rearticulation of pre-existing identity structures through a contemporary lens (Jalata, 2007).
Historical Origins and Ideological Development
Pre-Colonial and Traditional Foundations
Oromo identity was historically anchored in systems of communal life, ritual leadership, and oral tradition. The Gadaa system, as a form of indigenous democracy, institutionalized leadership, military organization, and jurisprudence. Its cyclical transfer of power every eight years reinforced egalitarianism and collective responsibility (Hassen, 1990). Similarly, Safuu emphasized respect for life, elders, nature, and cosmic balance. Together, these formed the ethical and political foundation upon which later articulations of Oromummaa would build (Bulcha, 201 1).
Resistance under Imperial Rule
The late nineteenth century brought violent integration of Oromo regions into the Abyssinian empire under Menelik ll. The conquest resulted in mass land dispossession, forced assimilation, and marginalization of Oromo language and culture (Jalata, 2007). This colonial encounter catalyzed Oromo political consciousness, though it remained fragmented along regional and clan lines. By the early 20th century, oral narratives and folklore began to encode themes of resistance and communal identity that foreshadowed the later rise of Oromummaa.
The Political Articulation of Oromummaa
Oromo Liberation Front and Early Ideologues
The formation of the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF) in 1973 marked a critical institutionalization of Oromo nationalist ideology. Leaders such as Baro Tumsa, often credited with the slogan “Oromo first} emphasized a unified national identity that transcended internal divisions (Jalata, 2008). The OLF positioned the Oromo struggle as one of anti-colonial liberation rather than mere political dissent. While the term Oromummaa was not yet widely used, its ideological tenets— self-determination, cultural autonomy, and historical restoration—were being developed.
The Role of Asafa-Jalata
Sociologist Asafa Jalata played a seminal role in naming, theorizing, and disseminating Oromummaa as a master ideology. His 2007 book Oromummaa: Oromo Culture, Identity and Nationalism compiled speeches and essays that defined Oromummaa as a civilizational and political project rooted in indigenous Oromo values. In a subsequent 2008 article, Jalata described Oromummaa as the ideological core of the Oromo national movement, linking it to democratic values, social justice, and resistance against internal colonization (Jalata, 2008).
Oromummaa in Contemporary Oromo Politics
Identity Consolidation
Oromummaa serves as a unifying principle across Oromo communities divided by religion, dialect, or geography. It facilitates a pan-Oromo identity that centers collective memory and cultural continuity over sectarian or regional loyalties. This has been crucial in building solidarity across diverse constituencies within the Oromo nation (Bulcha, 201 1).
Political Mobilization and Protests
Movements such as Qeerroo—the youth-led mobilization that galvanized the 2014-2018 protests—used Oromummaa as both rallying cry and ideological framework. These protests,
triggered by land dispossession and political exclusion, led to significant shifts in Ethiopian politics, including the resignation of Prime Minister Hailemariam Desalegn and the rise of Abiy Ahmed (Jalata, 2014). While hailed as victories, these shifts have also sparked renewed debates over the meaning and limits of Oromummaa as a political force.
Cultural Renaissance
Oromummaa has catalyzed a cultural revival in music, education, and historical narrative. Artists like Hachalu Hundessa used music to articulate Oromo pride and resistance. The increased use of Afaan Oromo in media and education, the revalorization of Oromo heroes, and the celebration of traditional attire and festivals all reflect a growing confidence in Oromo cultural self-expression (Bulcha, 201 1).
Oromummaa in the Diaspora
Identity Formation and Cultural Transmission For second-generation Oromos in diaspora communities such as Minneapolis, Toronto, and Melbourne, Oromummaa provides an emotional and ideological bridge to ancestral heritage. Language schools, cultural centers, and Oromo led religious institutions help transmit values rooted in Oromummaa (Jalata, 2014).
Political Engagement and Transnational Advocacy
Diaspora Oromo communities have played a pivotal role in internationalizing the Oromo struggle. Hashtags like #0romoProtests and #JusticeForHachalu have brought global attention to local Ethiopian issues. Diaspora-led organizations such as the Oromo Studies Association (OSA) have produced a substantial body of academic work legitimizing the Oromo narrative and advocating for justice, equality, and federal reform (Jalata, 2008; Bulcha, 2011).
Regional Friction and Geopolitical Implications
Interethnic Tensions in Ethiopia
While Oromummaa is framed by its advocates as inclusive and democratic, it is perceived by some groups—especially Amhara, Somali, and Afar elites—as exclusionary or expansionist.
Territorial disputes in areas like Addis Ababa
(Finfinne) and the borderlands with Somali and Afar regions have occasionally escalated into violent confrontations. These frictions are exacerbated by Ethiopia’s ethnic federalism, which institutionalized ethnic identity as the basis for political power (Tronvoll, 2000).
The Eritrean Factor
Eritrea, under the leadership of president Isaias Afwerki, remains skeptical of both Ethiopia’s ethnic federalism and the rising influence of Oromo nationalism. While outright conflict between Eritrea and Oromia-led Ethiopia remains unlikely in the short term, scenarios involving state collapse, Oromo-led autonomy, or pan-Cushitic mobilization could trigger preemptive Eritrean action. Eritrea may also
support rival factions to curb Oromo ascendancy and maintain strategic balance in the Horn (Keller, 1995).
Strategic Outlook: Scenarios for 2025-2030
A strategic forecast identifies three plausible trajectories for Oromummaa:
Civic Nationalism: Oromummaa evolves into a multicultural, civic framework. Ethiopia undergoes peaceful reform. Eritrea remains neutral.
Cold Ethnic Competition: Oromummaa remains strong but contested. Political fragmentation occurs. Eritrea backs opposition groups.
State Fragmentation and Conflict: Oromummaa radicalizes. Oromia asserts autonomy. Civil conflict and foreign intervention follow.
The determining variable will be whether Oromummaa is institutionalized as an inclusive civic identity or leveraged as an exclusive nationalist tool.
9. Conclusion
Oromummaa encapsulates the historical, cultural, and political aspirations of the Oromo people. It is both a revivalist movement rooted in indigenous knowledge and a contemporary political project navigating Ethiopia’s contested statehood. Its potential lies in its ability to unify across differences and offer a democratic vision of federalism. Yet its risks stem from exclusivism, radicalization, or misinterpretation by rival groups and external actors. The future of Oromummaa—and by extension, Ethiopia— depends on the delicate balance between cultural pride and inclusive governance.

The author can be reached at : [email protected]

References
Bulcha, M. (201 1). Contested narratives and the quest for identity: The Oromo in contemporary Ethiopia. Addis Ababa: Shama Books.
Hassen, M. (1990). The Oromo of Ethiopia: A history 1 570-1860. Cambridge University Press.
Jalata, A. (2007). Oromummaa: Oromo culture, identity and nationalism. Atlanta, GA: Oromia Publishing.
Jalata, A. (2008). Oromummaa as the master ideology of the Oromo national movement. Journal of Oromo Studies, 1 5(2), 1 -30.
Jalata, A. (2014). Promoting and developing Oromummaa: The core element of the Oromo struggle. Journal of Oromo Studies, 21 (1 & 2), 1 -22.
Keller, E. J. (1995). Understanding conflict in the Horn of Africa. In M. Ayoob (Ed.), Regional conflict in the Horn of Africa (pp. 23-54). Lynne Rienner Publishers.
Tronvoll, K. (2000). Ethiopian identity and the politics of power: A study of the struggle between Oromo nationalism and the Ethiopian state. Brill.

 

Note: I dedicate this article to the memory of the late Sisai Ibssa, a towering Oromo intellectual and a champion of his people’s quest for recognition and justice, who, along with his surviving wife, Bonnie K. Holcomb, wrote Invention of Ethiopia: The Making of a Dependent Colonial State in Northeast Africa.
May his spirit guide Eritrean and Oromo intellectuals and inspire the deep-rooted cooperative work cultivated from the 1970s to the the very recent.

Jaal Sisay Ibsaa

https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/local/2005/09/15/sisai-ibssa-dies-at-60/fb80f284-f2ee-4ef9-834a-37a3e53f4482

Disclaimer

The views and opinions titled "Oromummaa and the Reimagination of Oromo Identity: Cultural Ideology, Political Mobilization, and Geopolitical Tensions in the Horn of Africa", are those of Simon Stefanos and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Setit Media. ኣብዚ "Oromummaa and the Reimagination of Oromo Identity: Cultural Ideology, Political Mobilization, and Geopolitical Tensions in the Horn of Africa", ዘርእስቱ ጽሑፍ ተገሊጹ ዘሎ ርእይቶን ሓሳብን ናይ Simon Stefanos እምበር መትከላትን መርገጽን ሰቲት ሚዲያ ዘንጸባርቕ ኣይኮነን።

Why is the United Arab Emirates (UAE) accused of destabilizing the Horn of Africa?

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In a recent address commemorating Eritrea’s Independence Day, President Isaias Afewerki articulated accusations against the Ethiopian government, alleging that it is acting on behalf of foreign interests to undermine local initiatives aimed at fostering peace and development in the region. Numerous analysts and regional specialists speculate that these claims are primarily directed at the United Arab Emirates, identified as a key player in the destabilization of both Sudan and Somalia. This raises a critical inquiry: What are the strategic motivations behind the UAE’s apparent desire to weaken the political and economic stability of both Eritrea and Sudan?

Geopolitical Influence

The United Arab Emirates (UAE) is actively competing with regional powers, including Qatar, Turkey, Saudi Arabia, and, to a lesser degree, Egypt, to enhance its influence in the Middle East and the Horn of Africa. The UAE’s support for various factions, such as those in Sudan, is a strategic move to shape political leadership that aligns with its objectives. Furthermore, the UAE’s substantial investment in the port of Berbera in Somaliland clearly indicates its intent to engage unilaterally with factions or secessionist movements that challenge the central government of Somalia, which maintains alliances with both Turkey and Qatar.

During the conflict in Yemen, the United Arab Emirates leveraged its geographic proximity to Eritrea, utilizing the port of Assab as a military base to conduct airstrikes against Houthi rebels. Furthermore, there are indications that this base was also employed in operations against Tigrayan forces during the Ethiopian conflict. However, the post-cessation of hostilities agreements have led to a notable cooling of relations between Eritrea and the UAE. The Eritrean government has expressed dissatisfaction with the UAE’s involvement in destabilizing Sudan through direct military and financial support to various rebel factions.

The UAE exerts significant influence in the Horn of Africa, notably shaping the dynamics of various crises and political settlements orchestrated by both international and regional actors. A pertinent instance was the conference convened on January 14, 2025, alongside the African Union summit in Addis Ababa. The event, convened by the UAE, sought to tackle the urgent humanitarian crisis in Sudan. While the initiatives did not fulfill their specified objectives, they underscore the UAE’s strategic involvement in interfering with and aggravating the socio-political complexities of the region.

Economic Interests

The United Arab Emirates (UAE) has established itself as a significant commercial hub, strategically positioned between Europe, Asia, and parts of Africa, bolstered by its free trade zones and advanced logistics services. However, the geographic proximity of Eritrea and Sudan along the Red Sea corridor presents a potential competitive challenge to the ports of Dubai and Abu Dhabi. Should Eritrea, for instance, develop its Red Sea ports and surrounding islands to attract foreign investment, it could significantly reduce shipping distances—potentially by several hundred, if not thousands, of kilometers—thereby lowering operational costs and enhancing profitability for producers and consumers.

The UAE harbors concerns that a cooperative relationship between Eritrea and Sudan could stabilize the Red Sea region, subsequently drawing foreign investment into port development and logistics hubs. As a countermeasure, the UAE appears to be actively involved in undermining the stability of these nations, potentially by providing support to local militias and rebel groups or by assisting nations like Ethiopia and Kenya financially, enabling them to meet obligations to international financial institutions such as the IMF and World Bank. These nations effectively become arenas for the UAE’s strategic interests.

Moreover, the UAE is investing substantially in countries like Ethiopia, acquiring land, stakes in state-owned enterprises, and funding government initiatives. These activities are likely intended to influence domestic policies and ensure alignment with UAE interests in the region.

Numerous international organizations have strongly criticized the United Arab Emirates for its complicity in the illicit appropriation of Sudan’s gold resources through illegal mining operations. Additionally, the UAE’s direct involvement in the Sudanese civil conflict, particularly through support for rebel factions in Darfur, has drawn allegations of facilitating atrocities and war crimes against the local population.

Conclusion

The United Arab Emirates (UAE) is pursuing a strategy to safeguard its sovereign interests by fostering discord among neighboring countries. This erodes trust and obstructs opportunities for cooperation and regional collaboration. This divide-and-rule tactic appears to be effective in the short term; however, local populations are increasingly vocal in denouncing the Emirates’ destabilizing policies. In the long run, such disingenuous strategies will likely backfire, positioning the UAE as the ultimate loser in the regional geopolitical landscape.

No Peace Without Justice: Eritrea’s Rightful Claim to Accountability

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As Ethiopia renews its controversial campaign for sovereign access to the Red Sea, Eritreans and observers of the Horn of Africa are once again compelled to revisit enduring injustices that continue to shape the region. Closer examination reveals that this campaign is not merely about trade corridors or development. It is a manifestation of a deeper, unresolved issue: the failure to confront and account for Ethiopia’s illegal annexation and prolonged military occupation of Eritrea.

A Forgotten Crime Against Decolonisation

In 1962, Ethiopia unilaterally dissolved the United Nations–sponsored federal arrangement established in 1950 and annexed Eritrea in violation of international law. This act extinguished Eritrea’s nascent autonomy and began a brutal occupation, in stark contrast to the spirit of the post–World War II decolonisation movement. While many African territories gained independence, Eritrea was denied its most basic right: self-determination.

Two forces enabled this injustice:
Geostrategic Interests of the United States: In the Cold War context, the U.S. prioritised strategic control over the southern Red Sea. Eritrea’s location and its military and intelligence installations—including the future Kagnew Station—were deemed too valuable to risk falling into non-aligned hands. Supporting Haile Selassie’s Ethiopia, Washington subordinated Eritrean aspirations to global power politics.
Ethiopian Expansionism: For Ethiopia’s rulers, annexing Eritrea fulfilled a long-standing ambition to transform a landlocked empire into a coastal power. Cloaked in rhetoric about national unity, the annexation disregarded international norms and the will of the Eritrean people. It triggered a thirty-year war of liberation—one of Africa’s longest and most bitter anti-colonial struggles.

A War Without Accountability

During Eritrea’s long war for independence, civilians suffered immense atrocities. Entire villages were razed. Napalm and cluster bombs devastated communities. Haile Selassie’s scorched-earth policies in the 1960s caused mass displacement, forcing tens of thousands into refugee camps in eastern Sudan—many of which still exist today. The Derg regime continued the repression with campaigns marked by massacres and forced relocations.

Several atrocities exemplify this brutal legacy:
Um Hajer Massacre – 14 December 1974: Ethiopian troops attacked the town of Um Hajer in western Eritrea, killing scores of civilians, including women and children.
Ona Massacre – 14 December 1974: On the same day, Ethiopian forces surrounded the village of Ona near Keren and massacred over 625 civilians, many of whom were burned alive.
Weki Duba (Woki Duba) Massacre – 2 February 1975: Between 80 and 103 civilians seeking refuge in a church were summarily executed by Ethiopian troops.
Agordat Massacre – 9 March 1975: Following attacks by the Eritrean Liberation Front (ELF), Ethiopian forces retaliated by killing 208 residents of Agordat.
• She’eb Massacre – May 1988: Ethiopian forces killed nearly 500 civilians in She’eb, including 299 who were crushed under advancing tanks while attempting to flee.

These were not collateral damages—they were systematic violations of humanitarian law and war crimes.

After independence in 1991, Eritrea made a principled choice. It did not demand reparations or tribunals but prioritised peace, regional cooperation, and good neighbourliness. Hoping to inaugurate a new era of mutual respect and stability in the Horn, it rejected cycles of revenge that had long defined the region.

The Consequences of Forgoing Justice

Eritrea’s decision to forgo accountability came with risks. It assumed that diplomacy could replace retribution. Yet this moral restraint may have enabled successive Ethiopian regimes—and the international community—to evade responsibility. What should have been recognised as a historical crime came to be viewed as a political miscalculation.

Revisionist narratives have since resurfaced. Ethiopian officials and commentators now frame access to Eritrean ports as a correction of historical injustice. This entitlement—claiming Eritrea’s ports as unfairly withheld—echoes the imperial logic behind the original annexation.

This narrative extends beyond Eritrea. Ethiopia has challenged Djibouti’s sovereignty by falsely claiming colonial-era lease agreements. It has also signed a controversial MoU with Somaliland, undermining Somalia’s territorial integrity and violating the African Union’s founding principles.

A Dangerous Misreading of Eritrea’s Restraint

Eritrea’s post-independence restraint was never an admission of weakness—it was a strategic, moral stance. Yet, rather than deter aggression, it has emboldened expansionist elements in Ethiopia. Some now view Eritrea’s sovereignty as negotiable.

This misreading has normalised destabilising ideas about natural borders and historical rights. Such notions threaten not only Eritrea but the entire Horn. They undermine uti possidetis juris, the principle that colonial borders must be preserved to avoid conflict and ensure stability.

The Path to Lasting Peace

Peace in the Horn of Africa cannot rest on silence or selective memory. It requires truth, recognition, and mutual respect. Acknowledging Ethiopia’s illegal annexation and the human cost is not about reopening wounds—it is about laying a foundation for genuine reconciliation.

The question is not whether Ethiopia should seek maritime access. It is whether the international community will allow that pursuit to be framed through entitlement rather than lawful diplomacy.

Eritrea, like all African nations forged through anti-colonial struggle, has earned its sovereignty. It is not a bargaining chip. It is a legal, historical, and moral fact.

The world must respect it—and Ethiopia must accept it.

Who Is Provoking Whom? Ethiopia’s Claims Against Eritrea Contradict Its Own Record

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In a recent letter to the UN Secretary-General and several member states, the Ethiopian Ministry of Foreign Affairs accused Eritrea of “continued provocations” and alleged attempts to invade its territory. These claims are unsubstantiated and sharply contradicted by Ethiopia’s own conduct over the past two years.

Under Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed, Ethiopia has pursued an increasingly aggressive and revisionist regional agenda. This includes direct challenges to Eritrea’s sovereignty, the signing of a controversial Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) with Somaliland (a territory internationally recognised as part of Somalia), and repeated statements undermining the legitimacy of colonial-era borders that underpin the African state system.

A Pattern of Escalation and Revisionism

Top Ethiopian officials, including Prime Minister Abiy, have argued that Ethiopia was “unfairly deprived” of a seaport. These assertions, steeped in vague historical grievances, imply that Eritrea’s control over its ports, particularly Assab, is somehow illegitimate. In one of the most alarming statements, Abiy declared that Ethiopia would pursue Red Sea access “peacefully if possible, but by any means necessary if not.”

This rhetoric, cloaked in grievance but suggestive of coercion, has been widely interpreted as a threat not only to Eritrea but to the stability of the entire region. It signals a willingness to abandon diplomacy in favor of force.

The MoU with Somaliland, signed in January 2024, marked a particularly provocative step. By attempting to secure naval access through a region that remains unrecognised as sovereign by the international community, Ethiopia directly challenged AU principles and inflamed one of Africa’s most sensitive sovereignty disputes. The AU, UN, and most member states continue to uphold Somalia’s territorial integrity and have condemned the move as a breach of international norms.

Disregard for Colonial Borders

Ethiopia’s current trajectory reflects a consistent refusal to respect the sanctity of colonial borders, a foundational principle of post-independence African statehood. The AU’s adoption of uti possidetis juris was designed precisely to preserve stability by affirming colonial borders as the legal basis for modern states.

Eritrea’s internationally recognised boundaries were established during Italian colonisation and reaffirmed by a UN-supervised referendum in 1993. Undermining these borders risks eroding the legal framework that has supported continental peace since decolonisation.

Regional Tensions and Diplomatic Fallout

Ethiopia’s assertive stance has provoked a regional backlash. Djibouti’s President Ismaïl Omar Guelleh responded forcefully, declaring, “Djibouti is not Crimea,” a pointed reference to Russia’s illegal annexation of Ukrainian territory. Somalia reacted with equal vigour, recalling its ambassador and rallying international support to counter Ethiopia’s Somaliland MoU.

Ethiopia’s increasingly unilateral behaviour has left it diplomatically isolated at a time when regional cooperation is urgently needed. Rather than acting as a stabilising force, Ethiopia now finds itself viewed with growing caution by its neighbours and traditional allies alike.

Eritrea’s Measured Response

Despite repeated provocations, Eritrea has responded with restraint. It has defended its sovereignty without issuing threats or resorting to inflammatory rhetoric. Ethiopia’s portrayal of Eritrea as the aggressor in this context is a distortion of the facts.

If any states in the Horn of Africa have grounds to petition the UN Secretary-General, it is Eritrea and its coastal neighbours. These are the nations whose sovereignty is under rhetorical and strategic threat, not Ethiopia.

Legal and Historical Clarity

Ethiopia’s campaign hinges on a misreading of history. Its former access to the sea was via federation with Eritrea (1952–1962) and annexation (1962–1991), not lawful entitlement. Eritrea’s independence, won through decades of armed struggle and affirmed by a nearly unanimous referendum, resolved the question of sovereignty.

To redraw borders based on perceived historical injustices would unravel the fragile post-colonial consensus that has sustained African unity. That consensus, anchored in the AU’s foundational principles, seeks to avoid the proliferation of territorial disputes that would arise from reopening old claims.

A Contradictory Government Message

Adding to the confusion is the inconsistency within the Ethiopian government’s own statements. Just recently, the very same Minister of Foreign Affairs who sent the letter to the UN appeared before the Ethiopian Parliament and declared that Ethiopia is not in a “war of words” with Eritrea. He further suggested that the views expressed by certain current and former officials, including senior military leaders, do not reflect the government’s official stance.

This claim is difficult to reconcile with the repeated statements by the Prime Minister, the Chief of Staff, and the Defence Minister. These are not marginal figures but the central architects of Ethiopian policy. The contradiction reflects not only a breakdown in messaging but a broader strategic confusion.

A Question for the Global Community

The international community must now decide: will it allow one country to challenge the integrity of Africa’s state system under the guise of economic necessity? Ethiopia’s rhetoric and behaviour demand scrutiny. If global norms around sovereignty and peaceful coexistence are to mean anything, Ethiopia must be held to account.

Conclusion

Ethiopia’s accusations against Eritrea—vague claims of border incidents and military provocations—lack credibility when set against its own pattern of destabilising behaviour. From the Somaliland MoU to threats of force, from challenging colonial borders to regional isolation, the trend is unmistakable.

The Horn of Africa deserves stability built on lawful conduct, not revisionist ambition. The rules of sovereignty cannot be rewritten through coercion, no matter how powerful the claimant or how deep its historical grievances.

Engagement: A Path to Peace?

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In recent weeks, something unexpected has begun to take root along the border areas between Eritrea and Ethiopia’s Tigray region. Two activists, one Eritrean, the other Tigrayan, have launched an informal initiative based on a simple yet powerful belief: peace between the two peoples should not have to wait for formal diplomacy or the slow pace of institutional politics. They named the project Engagement to emphasize the idea of direct, grassroots, spontaneous involvement.

From their personal dialogue, the initiative quickly expanded, reaching villages, border communities, and families divided by conflict. In some cases, public celebrations, peaceful gatherings, and small community events have already taken place, testifying to a shared desire to turn the page. In a region where every gesture can arouse suspicion, these images—smiling faces, extended hands, dancing and singing—carry profound symbolic weight. They speak of an alternative: a change that emerges from the margins and seeks to reconnect peoples long divided by war and unhealed wounds.

Mutual Wounds and Diverging Memories

To grasp the significance of this effort, one must consider it within the context of recent history. Eritrea took part in the Ethiopian civil war of 2020 to 2022, intervening at the invitation of the federal government in Addis Ababa against the Tigrayan forces. This involvement left behind a painful legacy: episodes of violence and substantial civilian and material damage. But Eritrea, too, bears a memory of suffering. During the war with Ethiopia over territorial disputes between 1998 and 2000, it endured serious losses, both human and infrastructural, which were never properly acknowledged or compensated.

These two memories do not cancel each other out; they overlap, feeding distrust, resentment, and reciprocal suspicion. This is precisely why the gesture made by the two activists and the local communities assumes such particular significance. It is not about erasing the past but confronting it without rhetoric, attempting to build a shared memory. During the recent celebrations, undoubtedly moving and sincere, a recurring message was emphasized: the idea that peace is possible because the two peoples speak the same language, share the same religion, customs, and traditions. While this cultural proximity is real and may ease the path to dialogue, it also risks reinforcing a perception that excludes parts of Eritrea that do not share those specific identities.

Eritrea is, in fact, a nation marked by remarkable diversity. Its internal cohesion and relative stability, even in the face of adversity, have long relied on the coexistence of various ethnic, linguistic, and religious groups. Christians and Muslims, highlanders and lowlanders, different cultural traditions have found ways to live side by side. The strength of the Eritrean social fabric lies not in uniformity, but in the capacity to hold together difference. This is why true peace cannot be reduced to shared origins or cultural familiarity. Peace is valuable in itself, regardless of whether people look, pray, or speak alike.

And yet, important questions remain: Are these wounds truly ready to heal? Is it possible to overcome trauma without restorative justice, or is there a risk that reconciliation will be perceived as forgetfulness?

Implicit Strategies and Political Ambiguities

It cannot be overlooked that this informal initiative also raises questions of a political nature. Although there has been no official statement, it seems likely that there is implicit consent, if not quiet support, from the Eritrean side to allow such dynamics to unfold. In the absence of direct dialogue with the Ethiopian federal government, the rapprochement between border communities might serve as a strategic buffer zone, a way to ease tensions without entering formal negotiations.

But this opens up delicate issues. Where is the line between genuine grassroots spontaneity and top-down instrumentalization? Who ensures that these informal channels will not be co-opted for political purposes? And how far can local communities take a peace process if institutional structures remain absent? Can this path truly lead to something lasting, or will it remain confined to the goodwill of a few? These are essential questions because they concern the viability of the initiative itself: if change lacks political grounding, it risks dissolving as soon as conditions shift.

A Fragile but Necessary Hope

And yet, despite the uncertainties and risks, the Engagement initiative stands as a signal that cannot be ignored. The region’s recent history is littered with missed opportunities, failed peace processes, and broken promises. If this attempt, too, ends in failure, it would represent perhaps the third or even fourth historic fracture in the last thirty years. And each fracture, as the history of interethnic and cross-border relations shows us, leaves behind not only rubble but also deepening disillusionment.

This is why, despite all necessary caution, it is worth believing in this beginning. Peace between the two peoples never arrives all at once: it is made of small gestures, rediscovered words, and faces learning once again to recognize each other. As Nelson Mandela once said, “If you want to make peace with your enemy, you have to work with your enemy. Then he becomes your partner.” This may well be the spirit that animates the communities now involved: not a naive desire to forget, but a concrete will to coexist, to look ahead, to ensure that pain does not become permanent.

In a world that too often repeats its mistakes rather than learning from its silences, what emerges from below, from the margins, from the cracks left by war, deserves to be heard. Engagement is not yet peace, but it is its breath. And in certain corners of the world, where for too long only the language of force has been spoken, even a whisper calling for recognition may carry the weight of a true beginning.

Disclaimer

The views and opinions titled "Engagement: A Path to Peace?", are those of Filmon Yemane and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Setit Media. ኣብዚ "Engagement: A Path to Peace?", ዘርእስቱ ጽሑፍ ተገሊጹ ዘሎ ርእይቶን ሓሳብን ናይ Filmon Yemane እምበር መትከላትን መርገጽን ሰቲት ሚዲያ ዘንጸባርቕ ኣይኮነን።

Why Ethiopia’s Seaport Ambitions Threaten Regional Stability and International Law

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In recent months, Ethiopia’s leadership has escalated its rhetoric regarding access to a seaport—framing the issue not merely as a matter of trade or development, but as a strategic entitlement. In a widely viewed televised interview, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed expressed “regret” over what he described as Ethiopia’s “loss” of access to the sea. This narrative, now embedded in the government’s messaging, is not only misleading—it is perilous. It distorts historical facts, disregards international law, and risks undermining stability in the already volatile Horn of Africa.

A Manufactured Narrative

Ethiopia has never legally possessed a seaport. Its only direct access to the Red Sea occurred between 1952 and 1962, during a United Nations-brokered federation with Eritrea. That arrangement—established by UN General Assembly Resolution 390 A(V) in December 1950—was intended to respect Eritrea’s internal autonomy while granting Ethiopia access to the coast for maritime trade. However, in 1962, Emperor Haile Selassie unilaterally dissolved the federation and annexed Eritrea—an act widely condemned as a violation of international law.

This illegal annexation triggered a thirty-year war for independence, culminating in Eritrea’s liberation in 1991. In 1993, following a UN-supervised referendum, 99.8% of Eritreans voted in favour of independence. Eritrea officially declared its independence on 24 May 1993 and was subsequently recognised by the international community—including Ethiopia.

Ethiopia also acknowledged Eritrea’s sovereignty and coastline, as defined in colonial treaties:

The Treaty of 1900, which demarcated the western boundary,

The Treaty of 1902, which defined the central border sector, and

The Treaty of 1908, which addressed the eastern sector, including key ports.

These borders were further reaffirmed by the Eritrea–Ethiopia Boundary Commission (EEBC) ruling on 13 April 2002, issued as part of the Algiers Peace Agreement signed in December 2000. Both parties agreed to accept the ruling as “final and binding.”

To portray Eritrea’s independence as a “loss” of Ethiopian territory is not only factually inaccurate—it constitutes a direct challenge to internationally recognised and legally affirmed borders.

Legal Boundaries Are Not Up for Renegotiation

Eritrea is a sovereign state—internationally recognised and legally defined. Its borders are not ambiguous under international law. Both the UN Charter and the Constitutive Act of the African Union uphold the inviolability of territorial integrity—principles specifically designed to prevent post-colonial Africa from descending into endless territorial disputes.

Today, Ethiopia conducts the majority of its international trade via the Port of Djibouti. Other coastal neighbours, such as Sudan and Kenya, have expressed a willingness to enhance regional cooperation. If Ethiopia seeks broader access to seaborne trade, legitimate diplomatic avenues are available. What is not acceptable is the assertion that strategic necessity or historic sentiment entitles one state to the sovereign territory of another.

Strategic Ambiguity or Escalatory Intent?

Although Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed has repeatedly claimed that Ethiopia seeks seaport access through “peaceful and legal means,” no concrete legal proposals or multilateral initiatives have been made public. Instead, Ethiopian officials and state media have leaned heavily on vague allusions to “historical injustice” and “strategic need”—rhetoric that heightens fears of potential coercion.

Such ambiguity fuels mistrust across the region. The notion that a landlocked state might have a “right” to another country’s coastline—by virtue of proximity, size, or history—is deeply troubling. If this principle were to be normalised, it could have grave implications for many African borders, most of which are rooted in colonial-era treaties.

The Danger of Silence

Equally concerning is the international community’s relative silence. Ethiopia is often viewed as a key Western partner—particularly in areas such as counterterrorism, migration control, and peacekeeping. However, geopolitical interests should not override foundational principles of international law.

Allowing a stronger state to use its influence—economic, diplomatic, or military—to pressure a smaller neighbour into territorial concessions would set a dangerous precedent. It would embolden similar behaviour elsewhere and erode trust in the very legal frameworks that underpin the post-colonial international order.

A Precedent That Must Be Rejected

Eritrea’s independence is not a matter of convenience or diplomatic favour—it is the result of a determined liberation struggle, an internationally supervised referendum, and clear legal recognition. Its borders are defined by treaty and arbitration and are not subject to revision based on the changing geopolitical aspirations of its neighbour.

Ethiopia, like any other nation, is entitled to seek improved access to global markets. But this must be pursued within the limits of international law and through mutual consent—not through revisionist narratives or veiled threats.

Conclusion

The Horn of Africa is a region still grappling with the consequences of war, displacement, and underdevelopment. Introducing a new territorial dispute—based on misrepresented history and ambiguous rhetoric—would be reckless and potentially catastrophic.

The international community, along with responsible actors in the region, must draw a firm line. Sovereignty, peace, and the rule of law are not negotiable. Eritrea’s ports are not Ethiopia’s to reclaim, and any attempt to suggest otherwise threatens to plunge the region into another unnecessary crisis.

False Parity in a Region on Edge: Why the Global Peace Index Got Eritrea and Ethiopia Wrong

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In the latest edition of the Global Peace Index (GPI), Eritrea was ranked 132nd and Ethiopia 138th out of 163 countries. At first glance, the six-point difference suggests that the two nations are nearly equal in terms of peace and stability. But here’s the problem: they are not.

Anyone familiar with the Horn of Africa its recent history, its lived realities, and the sharp asymmetry in power dynamics will see that this ranking doesn’t just flatten nuance. It distorts it. The GPI, once again, falls into the trap of false equivalence, and Eritrea ends up being painted with the same brush as the very forces that have spent decades destabilizing it.

The Problem Isn’t Just the Ranking It’s the Narrative Behind It

Produced by the Institute for Economics and Peace (IEP), the Global Peace Index is widely cited by governments, media, and development organizations. It claims to be neutral and data-driven. But neutrality, when stripped of historical context, becomes complicity.

Eritrea is portrayed as a militarized, closed-off state. Ethiopia is framed as unstable but somehow still strategic. One is boxed in as “authoritarian”; the other is treated as a fragile democracy finding its way. Yet the reality is far more layered and uncomfortable for those who cling to simplistic narratives.

Let’s remember that Eritrea has been under relentless international pressure for over 20 years, facing:

  • UN and U.S. sanctions based on disproven allegations.
  • Decades of media defamation and diplomatic isolation.
  • A refusal by the international community to enforce the 2002 Eritrea-Ethiopia Boundary Commission (EEBC) ruling, which granted the town of Badme to Eritrea.

None of this is reflected in the Peace Index’s metrics. Why? Because the metrics don’t measure injustice they measure surface-level symptoms, often gathered from biased sources.

Ethiopia: The Arsonist Framed as the Firefighter

Meanwhile, Ethiopia whose government has declared Red Sea access an “existential necessity” is staging military deployments near Eritrea’s border, building naval capacity it doesn’t yet have, and signing deals with breakaway regions like Somaliland to circumvent Eritrean ports altogether.

Internally, Ethiopia is fracturing. The Tigray conflict may have formally ended, but resentment simmers beneath the surface. In Amhara, a full-blown insurgency has broken out. Oromia remains restive. And Ethiopia’s political center is increasingly fragile.

Despite all this, the Peace Index treats Ethiopia’s militarization and expansionist ambitions as symptoms of a state under pressure not a threat to the region.

Eritrea, on the other hand, is accused of militarism because it prepares for war. But what choice does a country have when its neighbor:

  • Calls its sovereign coastline negotiable.
  • Signs offshore naval deals backed by foreign powers.
  • And historically ignored international rulings without consequences?

This isn’t militarism. This is survival.

The Index Misses the Bigger Picture.

Let’s be clear: Eritrea’s military mobilization, its partnerships with friendly countries, and its policy of national service are not accidental. They are the outcome of betrayal, broken promises, and a world order that has never taken its sovereignty seriously.

If Ethiopia is spending over $1.5 billion a year on foreign ports and rattling sabers about the Red Sea, why shouldn’t Eritrea respond with defensive preparations? The IEP’s methodology, while presented as scientific, leans heavily on:

  •  Western media narratives, which have consistently misrepresented Eritrea.
  • Third-party data sets, often compiled by NGOs or think tanks with direct or indirect funding from governments with strategic interests in Ethiopia. This is not conspiracy—this is reality. Just follow the money.
Key Factor Eritrea Ethiopia
Peace Index Rank (2025) 132nd 138th
UN Sanctions History Yes (2009–2018) None
Border Ruling Compliance Yes (EEBC, 2002) No
Red Sea Rhetoric Defensive (Sovereignty-focused) Aggressive (Expansionist)
Military Deployment Defensive, National Service Offensive, multi-border deployments
Internal Conflict No, High (Tigray, Amhara, Oromia)
Foreign Military Backing No UAE, Russia, Iran, Türkiye
Conflict Exporting No Yes (Somalia, Tigray, Sudan)

 

The Real Cost of Lazy Metrics

It’s easy to throw countries like Eritrea into the “low peace” category. It’s harder to ask why. What you won’t find in the Global Peace Index is any meaningful acknowledgment of the geopolitical bullying, the decades-long siege, or the weaponization of development aid used against nations that refuse to fall in line.

Eritrea has never begged for aid. It has never played the victim. It has, for better or worse, insisted on dignity over dependency. That comes at a cost but it’s a cost Eritreans have chosen with open eyes.

What the GPI fails to measure is resilience. What it doesn’t track is integrity. And what it conveniently overlooks is Ethiopia’s historical and ongoing role in shaping Eritrea’s security posture.

The idea that Eritrea and Ethiopia are nearly equal in peacefulness is not just inaccurate—it’s insulting. Eritrea’s struggles are real, but they are not of its own making. It is a nation that has been punished for saying “No” to foreign domination, to aid dependency, and to dictated diplomacy.

The Peace Index wants to count tanks and troop numbers. That’s fine. But until it learns to count betrayals, sanctions, illegal occupations, and double standards, it will always remain what it is: A flawed mirror held up to a distorted world.