Resilience, revolution and rivalry have long marked the Horn of Africa, a region that is home to more than 160 million people. At the center of this tension is one of the continent’s longest and most tortured standoffs: Ethiopia vs. Eritrea.
The Roots of the Ethiopia–Eritrea Conflict
From Federation to Separation
After World War II, the UN federated Eritrea with Ethiopia in 1952. The action was meant to allow Eritrea its independence while keeping Ethiopia intact. But Emperor Haile Selassie annexed Eritrea in 1962, which dissolved the federation and began a 30-year war for independence.
The Eritrean People’s Liberation Front (EPLF), whose leader was Isaias Afwerki, was joined by the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) of Ethiopia as they fought against the Derg, a Marxist regime. Both movements had succeeded by 1991, the Derg was vanquished and Eritrea achieved de facto independence. In 1993, the United Nations supervised a referendum and formalized Eritrea’s sovereignty with an overwhelming 99.8% of the vote in favor.
For a moment, it looked as if peace had prevailed. The two also had ethnic and language affinity, and shared trade practices and infrastructure. But underneath the smiles and handshakes bubbled borders and pride that simmered like a sleeping volcano.
The 1998 Ethiopia–Eritrea Border War
Badme, The Flashpoint That Ignited Africa’s Deadliest Feud
A clash over a dusty border town called Badme exploded into full-blown war in 1998. What started as a scuffle between local patrols became one of Africa’s deadliest interstate wars since independence, claiming more than 70,000 lives over two years.
Eritrea asserted that Ethiopian troops had crossed into its territory, breaching colonial-era lines. Ethiopia accused Eritrea of invading Ethiopian-administered territory, and Eritrea countered that it was attacked first. Both accused the other of aggression, and both launched brutal offenses.
“We were not fighting for land; we were fighting to maintain our dignity,” one former Ethiopian commander told The New York Times later.
By 2000, Ethiopian forces had invaded deep into Eritrean territory and the two nations signed the Algiers Agreement, brokered by the Organization of African Unity and the United Nations. As part of the peace agreement, a Boundary Commission was set up to demarcate the disputed border.
The Border Ruling That Changed Nothing
The Eritrea–Ethiopia Boundary Commission (EEBC) ruled Badme to be part of Eritrea in 2002. The judgment was legally “final and binding.” But Ethiopia refused to retreat, saying local populations were Ethiopian.
For Eritrea, that was an outrage against international law. In Ethiopia, the stakes were around both political and national solidity. The impasse plunged both sides into a two-decade “no war, no peace” period defined by heavily militarized borders and shattered families divided by checkpoints.
The United Nations Mission in Ethiopia and Eritrea (UNMEE) was established, and later forced out in 2008 after Eritrea accused it of favoritism. The border remained frozen, and both governments hardened into repressive administrations.
The 2018 Ethiopia–Eritrea Peace Agreement
In Ethiopian politics, there was a new man in 2018, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed. Within months, Abiy announced that Ethiopia would finally honor the boundary ruling in full, then flew to Asmara to meet President Isaias Afwerki.
The globe looked on as foes hugged it out. Borders were reopened, flights restarted, and the two leaders signed a Joint Declaration of Peace and Friendship. For his bold decision, Abiy was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2019.
It was, however, a delicate peace based on mutual political expediency rather than reconciliation.
“In the past we read so much about each other and now we have seen and touched each other,” Abiy said in Asmara. Still, brotherhood can waltz to the brink of rivalry in the Horn of Africa.
The Tigray War and the Ethiopia–Eritrea Alliance
When Ethiopia plunged into civil war in 2020, the one-time foes became allies. The Ethiopian National Defense Force (ENDF) and Eritrean Defense Forces (EDF) fought together against the TPLF, which had once been the core of Ethiopia’s governing coalition.
Eritrea saw this as retaliation against its old foe; Ethiopia saw it as a strategic necessity. But at a terrible human cost, the alliance was established.
Foreign observers reported mass killings, systematic rape and widespread looting. The United Nations and Amnesty International accused Eritrean and Ethiopian soldiers of war crimes, calling it one of the worst humanitarian crises of this century.
When the guns fell silent in 2022, an estimated 600,000 people had died in Tigray, from fighting or famine.
Read Also: Ethiopia’s Political Transition and Its Implications for the Horn of Africa
The Red Sea Dimension in the Ethiopia–Eritrea Conflict
Ethiopia’s Search for Port Access
As the Tigray war waned, Abiy Ahmed’s focus turned north to the Red Sea. A landlocked nation since Eritrea’s independence, Ethiopia depends overwhelmingly on Djibouti for maritime commerce, paying roughly $1.5 billion in port fees every year.
In 2023, Abiy declared that Ethiopia’s future hinged on obtaining “sovereign access to the sea.” His statement alarmed Asmara. Eritrea read this as an existential threat, a harbinger of renewed aggression over its southern port of Assab.
Analysts say the revival of the Ethiopian Navy and construction of new military infrastructure near its borders indicate long-term maritime aspirations.
“A country with a population of 120 million cannot stay landlocked forever,” Abiy said in a speech to the Ethiopian Parliament.
But Eritrea’s reply was unambiguous: its sovereignty is not up for negotiation.
The UAE’s Role in the Ethiopia–Eritrea Conflict
From Mediator to Military Power Broker
In 2018, Abu Dhabi and Riyadh together facilitated the peace deal between Addis Ababa and Asmara, which won global acclaim. But when war erupted in Tigray, the UAE’s role changed from that of mediator to military supplier.
The UAE offered armed drones, surveillance assistance and training for Ethiopian forces from its own military base in Assab, a logistics center for the Yemen war. Satellite images and flight data suggested that Emirati cargo planes were being used to funnel weapons to Addis Ababa in 2021.
This backing helped sway the battlefield in Ethiopia’s favor but it also exacerbated mistrust that Eritrea harbors for its former Gulf ally.
“The UAE has now effectively chosen a side,” the International Crisis Group observed, cautioning that Gulf militarization of the Red Sea could “rekindle dormant rivalries.”
By 2025, Abu Dhabi had downsized its Assab footprint while adjusting investments to Somaliland’s Berbera port and Ethiopia’s Lamu Corridor projects, thus marginalizing Eritrea further.
Read Also: The UAE’s Growing Influence in the Horn of Africa
Why Ethiopia and Eritrea Are on the Brink Again
Sea Access and Economic Security
Ethiopia’s landlocked position is both a logistical and psychological burden. The government insists that maritime access, preferably through Assab, is essential for long-term economic stability.
Mutual Distrust and Betrayal
Eritrea has accused Abiy of betrayal after Tigray, saying he used Eritrean troops to secure victory before demanding Red Sea concessions afterward. Ethiopia, for its part, accuses Eritrea of harboring dissidents and meddling in Tigray’s postwar politics.
Shifting Regional Alliances
Eritrea has drawn closer to Egypt and Saudi Arabia, while Ethiopia leans toward the UAE and Turkey, alliances reflecting the wider Middle East power competition.
Domestic Pressures
Abiy faces growing unrest at home, ethnic violence, inflation, and political divisions. His Red Sea rhetoric helps rally nationalist sentiment and distract from internal crises.
Militarization of the Red Sea Corridor
With powers including the UAE, China, and the United States establishing bases along the Red Sea, what began as an Ethiopia–Eritrea border conflict has evolved into a global maritime contest.
The Human Cost of the Ethiopia–Eritrea Conflict
The scars have been deep from decades of war and militarization. Both Ethiopia and Eritrea are among the most conscripted nations in the world, Eritrea imposes mandatory, indefinite national service that drives thousands to flee every year.
The World Bank reports Eritrea’s GDP per capita remains below $600, while northern Ethiopia’s border communities continue to face displacement, hunger, and trauma.
Some 15,000 families separated during the 1998 war remain divided by fences and politics. Along the roads to Zalambessa and Bure, villagers can see relatives across the border but cannot visit.
“The war is over, but our lives haven’t gone back to normal,” an Eritrean mother told The Exchange Africa.
Read Also: How the Horn of Africa Became the World’s Most Militarized Coastline
What the Horn of Africa Teaches About the Ethiopia–Eritrea Dispute
If history is any guide, the Ethiopia–Eritrea conflict has never been only about land, it is a struggle for identity, sovereignty, and survival. Both nations see themselves as heirs to proud histories: Ethiopia as Africa’s uncolonized empire, and Eritrea as the continent’s bastion of resistance.
Diplomats caution that if the Red Sea dispute is not resolved through negotiation, a new phase of war could erupt in the Horn of Africa, destabilizing East Africa’s fragile peace and jeopardizing trade routes vital to the global economy.
Regional bodies such as the African Union and IGAD must press for dialogue urgently, applying lessons from the 2018 peace accord while adapting to new realities, port economics, migration, and Gulf influence.
The Battle for the Red Sea and the Future of Peace
The Ethiopia–Eritrea war is not frozen in time; it is evolving. Dreaming of a navy without a sea, Ethiopia eyes the Red Sea’s blue horizon, while Eritrea guards its sovereignty as fiercely as ever.
As President Isaias Afwerki said in a recent interview, “For the Horn of Africa, peace will not be about who owns the coast but who has the courage to share it.”
Crédito: Link de origem
