Ethiopia’s renewed territorial ambitions threaten to destabilise the Horn of Africa and undermine hard-won regional peace. On October 27, Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed told Parliament that he was “a million percent certain” that Ethiopia would not remain landlocked, and implying that Eritrea should submit before it is too late.*
This statement, coming on the back of widespread concerns regarding Ethiopian expansionist ambitions in the last two years, has revived fears that unneighbourly tensions could turn into a regional war.
Abiy’s remarks were framed as both a declaration and a warning. He claimed that no one would come to Eritrea’s aid if war breaks out and that Ethiopia’s victory is assured. He invoked the examples of Ukraine and Palestine to suggest that Eritrea would stand alone, receiving only moral encouragement from Ethiopia’s “historical enemies.”
At the same time, Abiy called for mediation by global powers such as the United States, China, Russia, and the European Union – despite describing Ethiopia’s demand for access to the Red Sea as “irreversible.” This contradiction between open threats and calls for mediation reveals both the recklessness and the confusion behind Ethiopia’s policy.
Eritrea’s response was swift. Information Minister Yemane Gebre Meskel condemned Abiy’s speech as “incessant saber-rattling and a war agenda” that risked “fomenting dangerous conflicts” across the Horn. He pointed out the hypocrisy of Ethiopia hosting the Tana Forum – a regional summit on peace and stability – while its army chief and senior officers continued to escalate their rhetoric. On social media, Meskel accused Ethiopia’s ruling Prosperity Party of “political doublespeak and duplicity that knows no bounds.”
Ethiopia’s latest rhetoric over access to the Red Sea also has important implications far beyond its tense relationship with Eritrea. By challenging the principle of territorial sovereignty, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed risks destabilising an already volatile region, fanning old rivalries, and inviting the involvement of outside powers.
His appeal to historical and demographic “entitlements” echoes earlier eras of expansionist nationalism, when claims of destiny and economic necessity were used to justify territorial conquest and regional upheaval.
The Stakes for Eritrea
High-level Ethiopian officials have reinforced Abiy’s position. Field Marshal Birhanu Jula, the army’s chief of staff, described Ethiopia’s landlocked status as “unfair,” arguing that a country of 130 million people – expected to reach 200 million within 25 years – cannot remain blocked from the sea by “a community of two million.” He called this situation “illogical” and “inconsistent with international law.”
Meskel dismissed these arguments as dangerous provocations, accusing Ethiopia’s leaders of having “nothing to do with good-faith intentions and policies of regional peace.” He warned that the ruling party’s “duplicitous verbal gymnastics” could ignite the kind of instability the Horn of Africa “does not need or deserve.”
Abiy’s posture represents an extraordinarily aggressive move that forces Eritrea to adopt a comprehensive defensive and diplomatic strategy. To protect its sovereignty, Eritrea must leverage international law, build strong alliances, and pursue economic resilience.
Somalia’s experience in early 2024, when Abiy’s controversial Memorandum of Understanding with Somaliland triggered a diplomatic crisis, provides a cautionary example of how easily such ambitions can escalate into regional tension.
Eritrea can draw on established principles of international law to resist what it views as an act of neo-colonialism. Demanding the cession of a port constitutes a violation of sovereignty, and Eritrea should appeal to the African Union and the UN Security Council to condemn such threats.
It can also build coalitions with sympathetic states such as Egypt, while pursuing military and economic partnerships to deter aggression. Although the international climate may not be immediately favourable, persistence and coordination will be essential.
Uti possidetis is a principle of international law, originally from Roman law, that means “as you possess.” In modern international law, it is used to maintain stability by having newly independent states inherit the administrative boundaries of the former colonial powers. In Africa’s case, the Organization of African Unity ultimately affirmed existing colonial borders.
Beyond legal and political manoeuvres, Eritrea could consider limited economic partnerships under strict conditions, ensuring that any port access arrangement remains under Eritrean control. Such agreements could include clear conditions and provisions if the partner violates its terms. Diplomacy should remain Eritrea’s first line of defence, but it must also maintain a credible deterrent—potentially through joint military exercises with allies like Egypt—to raise the cost of aggression.
Abiy’s expansionist rhetoric appears to be driven by domestic pressures. His appeals to nationalism may serve as a distraction from internal political and economic problems. He and his supporters frame access to a seaport as an existential question for Ethiopia, rooted in claims of historical entitlement, territorial security, and demographic necessity.
Yet the main existential threat facing Ethiopia does not emanate from lack of control over the Red Sea. Instead, this threat is internal and rooted in the internal contradictions of the Ethiopian state and the failure of successive leaders to manage the country’s ethnic diversity in a way that fosters inclusion and national unity.
Consequently, Abiy’s attempt to portray the challenges Ethiopia faces as external issues may serve as a temporary distraction, but will do nothing to resolve the fundamental problems at the heart of the country’s political settlement.
The Arguments for and Against Ethiopia’s “Right” to a Seaport
Proponents of Ethiopia’s claim argue that access to the sea is essential for national survival and economic growth. They cite Ethiopia’s size, population, and history—referring to the ports of Massawa and Assab, which were gobbled up by Ethiopia before Eritrea’s independence in 1993—as justification for reclaiming coastal access.
Others invoke national security, arguing that control of a port would allow Ethiopia to safeguard supply chains and assert power in the Red Sea.
However, critics reject these arguments as violations of sovereignty and international law. Landlocked countries have the right to transit access under international conventions, but this does not extend to owning foreign territory.
Eritrea, Somalia, and many international legal scholars warn that Ethiopia’s claims risk destabilising an already fragile region. Peaceful trade agreements and shared infrastructure projects—such as Ethiopia’s existing use of Djibouti’s ports—offer far more viable alternatives.
As critics point out, port ownership is not essential for prosperity. There are forty-four landlocked countries in the world, many with thriving economies built on trade partnerships rather than annexation. Ethiopia, which has been landlocked since the independence of Eritrea in 1993, has numerous options through its five coastal neighbours—Eritrea, Sudan, Djibouti, Kenya, and Somalia.
Historical Patterns of Expansionism
Ethiopia’s current rhetoric revives a long history of territorial ambition. Past Ethiopian governments have claimed Somali, Djiboutian, and Eritrean territories under the banner of “reunification.” Haile Selassie, in a 1967 press interview, asserted that “the Djibouti territory is an integral part of Ethiopia.” The Ethiopian government is even believed to have sponsored the Djibouti Liberation Movement, which sought annexation, until Djibouti’s independence in 1977.
Today, Abiy Ahmed’s government is also accused of reviving irredentism by arming groups in the Afar region. The Afar live in Eritrea, Djibouti and Somalia.
This pattern is not new. In the late 1920s, Haile Selassie sought to annex Zeila, in present-day Somaliland, and later turned to Djibouti and Eritrea. His diplomatic manoeuvring led to the 1952 federation of Eritrea with Ethiopia and its eventual annexation in 1962, sparking the 30-year war for Eritrean independence. Eritrea was born not from a redrawing of colonial boundaries but a return to them. The 1993 referendum ascertained this overwhelmingly.
Today, Abiy’s government invokes similar logic. By questioning the legitimacy of existing borders and treaties, Ethiopia risks dismantling the legal norms that underpin African stability. If every nation claimed historic grievances as grounds for expansion, the continent would descend into what Thomas Hobbes called a “state of nature”—a world of unending conflict where “the strong do what they can, and the weak suffer what they must.”
Why This Matters
Abiy’s rhetoric is not just a bilateral issue between Ethiopia and Eritrea—it threatens the fragile balance of the entire Horn of Africa. By undermining the principle of territorial integrity, Ethiopia risks reigniting regional rivalries and drawing in external powers. Its invocation of demographic and historical “rights” to justify expansion recalls the dangerous precedents of twentieth-century irredentism, where economic and nationalist arguments were used to rationalise aggression.
*Some translations and interpretations of language in this piece were undertaken by the author.
