The uneasy peace between Eritrea and Ethiopia is fracturing at a pace that has alarmed regional analysts and international observers. Less than seven years after Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed and President Isaias Afwerki declared an end to two decades of hostility, both countries are once again mobilising along their shared border. The rapid deterioration of relations threatens to plunge the Horn of Africa back into a cycle of conflict with consequences that could ripple across the region.
In 2018, the world hailed the reconciliation between Eritrea and Ethiopia as a diplomatic breakthrough. Abiy and Isaias embraced in Asmara and Addis Ababa, ending the so‑called "cold peace" that had persisted since the 1998–2000 border war. That conflict, triggered by a dispute over the small town of Badme, killed tens of thousands and displaced hundreds of thousands more. The peace deal brought new hope to a region long defined by mistrust and militarisation.
But the alliance forged between the two leaders was less about mutual trust and more about shared interests against a common foe: the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF). When the Tigray war broke out in 2020, Eritrean forces joined Ethiopian troops in a brutal campaign that devastated the northern Ethiopian region. The 2022 Pretoria Agreement ended the fighting between Addis Ababa and the TPLF, but it excluded Eritrea from the peace process — a decision that would sow the seeds of the current crisis.
Tensions escalated dramatically in early 2024 when Ethiopia announced a controversial memorandum of understanding with Somaliland to secure port access to the Red Sea. Eritrea, which guards its coastline fiercely and sees Ethiopian maritime ambitions as a direct threat, responded with open hostility. By February 2025, Asmara had ordered a nationwide military mobilisation. Ethiopia countered by deploying significant forces to border regions, reviving memories of the war years.
The maritime dispute is more than a squabble over trade routes. For Ethiopia, access to the sea is an existential economic issue. For Eritrea, it is a matter of sovereignty and survival in a neighbourhood where control of coastal chokepoints shapes geopolitical power.
Satellite imagery, social media videos and eyewitness reports indicate that both nations have been reinforcing military positions along the frontier. The Eritrean government has called up reservists and increased training exercises near the Zalambessa and Badme sectors. Ethiopia has expanded its presence in border towns and is moving heavy equipment toward strategic crossing points.
While neither side has formally declared hostilities, the rhetoric is shifting toward confrontation. State media in both countries have accused the other of provocations, while diplomatic channels appear to have frozen entirely. The African Union, which brokered the Pretoria Agreement, has made only muted appeals for restraint.
Any return to war between Eritrea and Ethiopia would destabilise the wider Horn of Africa. The Red Sea corridor is a vital artery for global trade, particularly as maritime tensions rise elsewhere. A conflict could also draw in neighbouring states: Egypt, which has strained relations with Ethiopia over Nile water rights, is sympathetic to Eritrea’s position, while Sudan’s internal instability could spill across borders.
For Western powers and Gulf states with interests in the Red Sea and Horn of Africa, the prospect of renewed fighting threatens both commercial and security priorities. Yet so far, international engagement has been minimal, leaving regional actors to navigate the crisis largely on their own.
The collapse of Eritrea and Ethiopia’s fragile peace is not inevitable, but the path to de‑escalation is narrowing. Restoring dialogue will require more than symbolic meetings; it will demand concessions on maritime access, border demarcation, and Eritrea’s lingering role in Tigray. Without such steps, the Horn of Africa risks sliding back into a war that neither side can afford — and whose costs the region has already paid too many times.