Asmara’s Gambit: Eritrea’s IGAD Exit and the Dangerous Theatre of Red Sea Politics
The recent withdrawal of Eritrea from the Intergovernmental Authority on Development marks yet another chapter in the Horn of Africa’s chronicle of fractured regionalism. But to view this solely through the lens of Asmara’s perpetual isolationism would be to miss the forest for the trees. This departure, announced with characteristic terseness and wrapped in accusations of institutional bias, is fundamentally intertwined with Ethiopia’s escalating discourse on Red Sea access, a matter that strikes at the core of our national interests and regional stability.
By Teklay Assefa, Senior Columnist
The recent withdrawal of Eritrea from the Intergovernmental Authority on Development marks yet another chapter in the Horn of Africa’s chronicle of fractured regionalism. But to view this solely through the lens of Asmara’s perpetual isolationism would be to miss the forest for the trees. This departure, announced with characteristic terseness and wrapped in accusations of institutional bias, is fundamentally intertwined with Ethiopia’s escalating discourse on Red Sea access, a matter that strikes at the core of our national interests and regional stability.
As Ethiopians, we must confront this development with clear eyes and measured judgement. The reverberations of Eritrea’s exit extend far beyond conference halls in Djibouti or communiqués from foreign ministries. They touch upon questions that define our national trajectory: How does a nation of 120 million people sustain economic growth whilst landlocked? What are the legitimate means of securing maritime access? And crucially, how do we pursue our interests without plunging the region into renewed conflict?
The predicament of landlockedness represents an uncomfortable truth we must acknowledge. Ethiopia’s structural vulnerability grows more acute with each passing year. Since Eritrea’s independence in 1993, a separation that cost us our entire coastline, we have been dependent on Djibouti for the overwhelming majority of our maritime trade. The port of Djibouti handles an estimated 95 per cent of Ethiopia’s imports and exports, creating a single point of failure that would be strategically unthinkable for any nation with alternatives.
Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed’s recent statements framing sea access as existential are not mere rhetoric. They reflect a genuine developmental constraint. Our economy, amongst Africa’s fastest-growing, requires diversified trade routes. Our industrial ambitions demand reduced logistics costs. Our strategic autonomy necessitates alternatives to our current arrangement. Yet the manner in which this imperative is articulated matters profoundly. When Ethiopian officials speak of sea access in tones that Asmara and indeed, other regional capitals interpret as threatening, we risk transforming a legitimate economic concern into a security crisis.
Eritrea’s calculated isolation should surprise no careful observer of the region. President Isaias Afwerki’s government has long viewed multilateral institutions with suspicion, preferring bilateral arrangements where Asmara can negotiate from a position it perceives as strength. The country’s first withdrawal in 2007, during the height of border tensions, followed a similar pattern of accusation and departure. What makes this current exit noteworthy is its timing. Coming amidst Ethiopia’s increasingly vocal demands for Red Sea access, Asmara’s move reads less as institutional disengagement and more as strategic positioning.
By leaving IGAD, Eritrea signals that it will not allow regional institutions to mediate what it views as threats to its sovereignty. The message to Addis Ababa is unambiguous: any discussion of port access must be bilateral, not multilateral, and will occur on Eritrean terms or not at all. From Asmara’s perspective, the calculus may appear straightforward. Eritrea controls strategically valuable Red Sea ports at Massawa and Assab. Its coastline offers Ethiopia potential access, but also gives Eritrea leverage. By withdrawing from IGAD, President Isaias preserves maximum flexibility to negotiate directly whether with Ethiopia, Gulf states seeking strategic footholds, or other external actors.
The cost of miscalculation looms large for both nations. For Eritrea, isolation has historically bred stagnation. The country’s economy remains anaemic, its population subject to indefinite military conscription, its international standing diminished. IGAD membership, however nominal, provided institutional links to development programmes and donor coordination. Its departure further marginalises Eritrea precisely when engagement might serve its interests.
For Ethiopia, the risks are equally profound but of a different character. Our insistence on sea access, however justified economically, carries undertones that revive memories of the catastrophic 1998-2000 border war. That conflict claimed between 70,000 and 100,000 lives, devastated communities on both sides, and resolved nothing. To even hint at coercion or unilateral action is to play with fire in a region where historical grievances remain raw.
Moreover, Ethiopia’s regional relationships extend beyond Eritrea. Djibouti, our current maritime lifeline, watches our rhetoric with growing unease. If Addis Ababa’s pursuit of alternative access undermines Djibouti’s port economy, we risk alienating our most reliable partner. Somalia, struggling with its own stability challenges, cannot afford another source of regional tension. Sudan, consumed by civil war, offers no mediation capacity.
IGAD’s institutional weakness stands exposed by Eritrea’s departure. The bloc, despite occasional successes in mediation, has never overcome the structural challenge facing all African regional organisations: member states prioritise national sovereignty over collective action when interests diverge. The bloc’s inability to retain Eritrea’s meaningful participation reflects this deeper malaise. When the interests of major members clash—as Ethiopia’s and Eritrea’s evidently do—regional institutions become theatres for rivalry rather than frameworks for cooperation.
This is not unique to IGAD; similar patterns afflict regional bodies across the continent. But in the Horn, where conflicts rapidly escalate and humanitarian consequences cascade across borders, institutional weakness carries particularly grave implications. The absence of effective mediation mechanisms means that bilateral tensions between Addis Ababa and Asmara risk escalating unchecked, with neither side willing to back down and no credible arbiter to facilitate compromise.
The involvement of external powers adds another layer of complexity to an already fraught situation. The Red Sea corridor represents a critical artery for global trade, linking Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. Gulf states, particularly the United Arab Emirates and Saudi Arabia, have invested heavily in Red Sea ports and military installations. Egypt views the Red Sea through the prism of its own security concerns, wary of Ethiopia’s regional ambitions. The United States and China, both with strategic interests anchored in Djibouti, are watching developments closely.
Eritrea’s isolation creates opportunities for these external actors. Gulf states may see a chance to deepen ties with Asmara, offering investment in exchange for strategic access to ports and military facilities. But this could exacerbate regional rivalries, drawing the Horn into broader geopolitical contests that have little to do with the region’s own development priorities. Ethiopia, too, may find itself courted by external powers seeking to counterbalance rivals, creating dependencies that constrain our autonomy.
A path forward demands pragmatism over provocation. As Ethiopians committed to both our national development and regional stability, we must advocate for an approach that reconciles these imperatives. Several principles should guide our thinking. Firstly, we must acknowledge that maritime access is indeed necessary for Ethiopia’s long-term prosperity, whilst clarifying that this need not come at the expense of Eritrean sovereignty. Economic arrangements port leases, trade corridors, joint development zones can serve mutual interests without territorial revision.
Secondly, we should recognise that bilateral negotiation with Eritrea, whilst challenging given the trust deficit, may prove more productive than multilateral pressure through weakened institutions. Quiet diplomacy, potentially facilitated by Gulf states with relationships in both capitals, offers possibilities that public confrontation forecloses. Thirdly, we must diversify our approach beyond Eritrea. Strengthening ties with Djibouti, exploring possibilities with Somaliland, and investing in logistics infrastructure that reduces per-unit costs can address our maritime vulnerability without singular dependence on Asmara’s goodwill.
Fourthly, Ethiopian officials must temper rhetoric that regional neighbours interpret as threatening. Our case for sea access is strongest when framed in terms of mutual economic benefit and regional integration, not strategic necessity that implies potential coercion. Language matters in diplomacy, and the difference between asserting legitimate interests and appearing to threaten neighbours can determine whether we achieve our goals through negotiation or find ourselves isolated and opposed.
The spectre of renewed conflict must concentrate minds in both capitals. The 1998-2000 war between Ethiopia and Eritrea stands as a cautionary tale of how quickly tensions can escalate and how devastating the consequences can be. That conflict resolved none of the underlying disputes, instead creating new grievances and deepening mistrust. Another war would be even more catastrophic, given the region’s current fragility and the potential for wider conflagration.
Ethiopia’s pursuit of sea access, however legitimate, must be pursued through means that prioritise stability. This is not weakness; it is wisdom born of painful experience. We have known war with Eritrea, and we know its costs. The challenge before us is to secure our maritime interests through patient diplomacy, economic incentives, and multilateral engagement rather than through confrontation that risks everything.
Regional dynamics beyond the bilateral relationship demand consideration as well. The Horn of Africa faces multiple overlapping crises: humanitarian emergencies, climate shocks, food insecurity, and armed conflicts. IGAD, for all its weaknesses, has played important roles in mediating disputes and coordinating responses to shared challenges. Its further weakening serves no one’s interests. Ethiopia, as the region’s most populous country and largest economy, bears particular responsibility for supporting rather than undermining collective institutions.
Our relationship with Djibouti deserves special attention. President Ismaïl Omar Guelleh’s government has been a reliable partner, providing port access that has sustained our trade for three decades. Any pursuit of alternative access must reassure Djibouti that we value the relationship and seek to complement rather than replace it. Diversification need not mean abandonment, and our diplomacy must reflect this understanding.
The stakes extend beyond economics and security to questions of regional identity and cooperation. The Horn of Africa has suffered immensely from cycles of conflict and state fragility. Building a more stable, prosperous region requires patience, mutual respect, and recognition that our fates are intertwined. Ethiopia’s size and influence mean that our choices carry outsized consequences for neighbours. We can use that influence to promote integration and development, or we can allow it to breed resentment and resistance.
The choice before us is clear. We can pursue sea access through means that build confidence and create mutual benefit, or we can allow legitimate interests to curdle into threatening postures that unite neighbours against us. We can support regional institutions even as we work to reform them, or we can dismiss them as irrelevant and face bilateral confrontations without mediation mechanisms. We can engage Eritrea with patience and creativity, or we can allow the relationship to deteriorate into renewed hostility.
History will judge how we navigate this moment. The Red Sea will remain long after current political leaders have departed the stage. The question is whether we approach it as a corridor for shared prosperity or a theatre for renewed confrontation. That choice will define not only Ethiopia’s trajectory but the fate of the entire Horn of Africa. As citizens and commentators, we must demand that our leaders choose wisely, that they pursue our interests with determination but also with restraint, and that they never forget the human cost of miscalculation in our volatile region.
Eritrea’s withdrawal from IGAD is a warning, not merely a diplomatic footnote. It signals the fragility of regional cooperation and the ease with which tensions can escalate. Ethiopia’s response will reveal whether we have learnt from history or are condemned to repeat it. Let us hope that wisdom prevails over hubris, that dialogue triumphs over confrontation, and that the peoples of the Horn are spared another generation of conflict born from failed diplomacy and strategic miscalculation.
Teklay Assefa is a senior columnist for the Ethiopian Tribune and expert on regional affairs. The views expressed are his own.
