Behind the Ethiopia-Eritrea clash

Behind the Ethiopia-Eritrea clash

Instead of spearheading “Africa's renaissance”, two of Africa's poorest
countries — Ethiopia and Eritrea — have been launching rockets, artillery
shells and air strikes at each other in a brutal battle over a barren border
area. Mediation efforts have floundered, the fighting has escalated. Ethiopia
is detaining and expelling thousands of Eritrean citizens.

Just weeks ago, Ethiopia and Eritrea were seen as the triumphant pioneers
of post-Cold War Africa. Touted by the Clinton administration as a “new
breed” of African governments that would usher in the long-awaited African
renaissance, their free-market economic reforms qualified them for lashings
of US aid and investment.

Ethiopia and Eritrea are engaged in a conflict that is less about disputed
border areas and more about an internal struggle for control of Ethiopia's
ruling coalition and resurgent Ethiopian nationalism.

The immediate dispute has centred on four border areas. Eritrea, which
has provided substantial documentation of its claims, says its borders,
set down in Ethiopian-Italian agreements at the turn of the century, cannot
be redrawn. Ethiopia, despite being challenged to document its claims,
has not yet produced its evidence.

The
problem is that although on paper the border is quite explicit, on the
ground it has not been properly marked, and proprietorship over the regions
has remained vague. Badme, one such area, continued to be partially administered
by Ethiopia after Eritrean independence. That caused no conflict until
last year, when Ethiopia began printing maps that extended its border to
include Badme (renaming it Yirga) and sent local police to enforce the
new boundary. Eritrea also claims that Ethiopia has tried to colonise the
area by moving in thousands of settlers.

Despite the long list of potential mediators, including the Organisation
of African Unity (OAU), Libya, Italy, the US, Rwanda and a host of African
eminent persons, little has stemmed the escalating war. While Clinton secured
a moratorium on air strikes effective June 11, heavy fighting continues
on the ground. After Ethiopia's veiled threats to target Eritrean ports,
shipping and commercial aircraft, the air moratorium seems untenable without
a speedy resolution.

With just 5% of Ethiopia's population of 60 million, and facing Ethiopia's
superior air force, standing army and arsenal, Eritrea has held its ground
due to its tenacity, self-reliance and efficiency forged during its 30-year
war for independence from Ethiopia. Ethiopia has been shelling Eritrean
positions, but both sides are dug in along hundreds of kilometres of trenches
spread around the disputed areas.

Ethiopia wants Eritrea to withdraw from the disputed border areas as
part of a peace plan brokered by the US and Rwanda. Eritrea has refused
the plan because it allows Ethiopia to take administrative control of the
contested land. Eritrea argues that disputed areas should become a demilitarised
no-man's-land until a final settlement is reached.

A visit by a high-level African delegation in mid-June, composed of
the presidents of Burkina Faso, Rwanda and Zimbabwe and the secretary general
of the OAU, failed to break the deadlock.

In early June, Ethiopia unsuccessfully tried to gain access to the Red
Sea by capturing the Eritrean port of Assab. Ethiopia has been landlocked
since Eritrea won its independence in 1991. Access agreements were made,
but it is still a sore point for Ethiopian nationalists.

Inside Ethiopia, Eritreans are being forcibly interned in makeshift
camps ready for mass expulsion. Janmeda, one such camp in the Ethiopian
capital Addis Ababa, now holds as many as 5000 Eritreans. Conditions are
poor, and family members left behind must fend for themselves. On June
20, the first batch of 800 Eritrean deportees arrived in Eritrea after
a harrowing three-day journey. Many more are expected soon.

Official estimates of Eritreans in Ethiopia range from 150,000 to 700,000,
an indication of the fact that Eritreans and Ethiopians are so well integrated
through marriage, religion and language as to defy anything but arbitrary
classification and persecution. Meanwhile, Germany has cancelled talks
on aid worth tens of millions of dollars until Ethiopia commits itself
to finding peace with its neighbour.

Ironically, Eritrea's president, Issayas Aferworki, and Ethiopia's prime
minister, Meles Zenawi, share much in common. They are both charismatic
visionaries who dumped Marxism-Leninism for a more pragmatic, less ideological
view of the world. They were once brothers-in-arms who fought together
to oust the tyrannical Ethiopian despot Haile Mariam Mengistu who — with
Soviet blessings and back-up — fought against independence for Eritrea
and ruthlessly suppressed the Ethiopian population.

In that victory, the Eritrean People's Liberation Front (EPLF) liberated
Eritrea and the Tigrayan People's Liberation Front (TPLF) liberated Ethiopia.
Eritrea's independence was legitimated in 1993 when a UN-supervised referendum
recorded a staggering 98.8% vote in favour of independence.

The Ethiopian government had supported Eritrea. In 1993, it even suppressed
Ethiopian university students protesting against Eritrean independence.
The two governments have also taken a joint hard-line stance against Sudan's
National Islamic Front regime's persistent attempts at regional destabilisation.

So what went wrong and why has the conflict erupted now? One theory
is that nationalism, geography and ethnicity are reasserting themselves,
causing fault lines in Ethiopia's TPLF-dominated ruling coalition, the
Ethiopian People's Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF).

Within the coalition, Meles' influence is waning as other leaders, such
as the minister of foreign affairs, Seyoum Mesfin, assert themselves. The
TPLF represents a minority ethnic group and many of opposition parties
have been banned. One sure way to rally public support and strengthen their
position within the front is for Meles' rivals to take a nationalist, hard-line
stance on Eritrea, forcing Meles to take a similar stance or face ridicule
as a weak leader.

The province of Tigray (bordering Eritrea) also benefits by gaining
disputed land, thus assuring leaders like Seyoum greater support within
the TPLF and its heartland.

Once public, news of the border dispute polarised debate along nationalist
lines. Tigrayan radio, in particular, incited debate, reasoning: “Ethiopia
has 50 million and no port. Eritrea has 3 million and two ports. Why should
the Ethiopians not have one?”

Nationalists also say that Eritreans are taking their jobs when they
should be treated as foreigners. Such feelings impact on government decisions
and no doubt form the rationale for expelling Eritreans, particularly those
with high positions, businesses and property. It is feared that the support
garnered from redistribution of confiscated property and positions once
held by Eritreans will be an even greater impetus for persecution.

Divergent economic policies have also strained relations. Last November,
Eritrea launched its own currency, the nakfa. Named after a town destroyed
during the independence war, it is a symbol of Eritrean resistance, but
also a reminder of humiliation in battle for proud Ethiopians.

Because Ethiopia insisted upon Ethiopian-Eritrean trade being conducted
in hard currencies, Ethiopia had to pay port charges in hard currency.
This was meant to be offset by Eritrean purchases of food products from
Ethiopia, but Eritrea began purchasing elsewhere when Ethiopian traders
demanded higher prices. Even though Eritrea reduced its port charges by
20% (increasing the volume of trade through Assab by 50%), Ethiopia faced
foreign currency shortfalls as it tried to balance an overall trade deficit
that required settlement in hard currencies.

While the former allies fight, the only victor will be Sudan's Islamic
regime. Having failed to destabilise them, Sudan's fundamentalist rulers
are watching its adversaries damage each other. On June 19, Sudan claimed
Eritrea had attacked seven of its border points, a pretext it may use to
launch attacks against Eritrea or to position Arab nations against it.

[James Thomson spent four years working in Eritrea and Ethiopia as a
journalist and teacher. He is writing a thesis on Asian industrialisation
and Africa for the Department of Politics and History at the University
of Wollongong.]

From GLW issue 323