What broke my heart was when Alemseged boastfully claimed that driving tens of thousands of ELF fighters off Eritrean battlefields was what shaped the EPLF’s nationalist principles. How wrong! In my view, Eritrea suffered a tremendous loss when we lost the ELF. I believe that the duration of the armed struggle could have been shortened by at least ten years if the friction had been handled diplomatically.

By Dawit Mesfin

23 August 2025

Veteran freedom fighter Alemseged Tesfai is a historian who, despite his advanced age, remains actively engaged in researching and documenting Eritrean history – though often in a selective and convenient manner.

The term “historian by selection and convenience” underscores how historians often prioritise specific events or periods, shaped by personal interests, available sources, or, in Alemseged’s case, historical narratives deemed safer to address.

Such an approach can result in a subjective, fragmented view of the past and a detachment from current affairs that affect people’s lives. I hope I’m not overstepping by suggesting that Alemseged perceives history through a lens of fear. This perspective has allowed him to sidestep both the history of the armed struggle, largely shaped by the EPLF, and the post-independence era, which remains under the oppressive control of a faction that emerged from the same group.

In other words, Alemseged failed to bridge the historical context explored in his three volumes with both the more recent past – the era of the armed struggle – and the current reality of the post-independence period.

By softening the tone a bit, I would like to express that I, like many Eritrean researchers, am grateful for his contributions – even if they were incomplete. His books were a valuable resource when I was writing the biography of Woldeab Woldemariam, one of the key visionary patriots who helped shape Eritrea’s nationalistic journey.

The book Alemseged published in English this year is a compilation of the three volumes he wrote in Tigrinya, one of Eritrea’s languages, over the past two decades.

Perhaps the title of the new book, An African People’s Quest for Freedom and Justice, is slightly misleading due to the inclusion of the word ‘quest.’ In my opinion, the title would have been more fitting if it had indicated that Eritrea’s quest for freedom and justice had been thwarted, as this very fact should represent the most significant historical event for a genuine historian to address.

Alemseged, somewhat surprisingly, chose to focus exclusively on the 1941-1962 period. While that may be his prerogative, it’s important to highlight that our most esteemed historian has yet to highlight Eritrea’s arduous 30-year armed struggle—one marked by significant setbacks. The lasting consequences of those challenges continued to affect the lives of its citizens long after independence.

By the way, our historian actively participated in the armed struggle and has witnessed first-hand the suffering of Eritreans since independence. This makes him not only a prime candidate but also one of the most legitimate witnesses to document these events truthfully – assuming, of course, he remains alive to do so.

I need to vent a bit more…

When I consider the independence that Eritrean freedom fighters achieved in May 1991, after a costly and protracted armed struggle, within a larger context, that event leaves me with a negative impression, evoking a lingering sense of dissatisfaction, and even disappointment. But why?

The euphoria was short-lived, quickly fading with the rise of the PFDJ party—the president’s omnipresent political machine. This transformation reduced what should have been a significant milestone to little more than a superficial and nominal achievement, as it excluded the core elements of true freedom and justice—two essential components that legitimise and sustain statehood. I believe Alemseged is well aware of these missing elements in Eritrean history, having witnessed the events unfold right before him.

Let me be fair to Alemseged’s An African People’s Quest for Freedom and Justice, which covers, as stated in the above paragraphs already, the period from 1941 to 1962. It is a praiseworthy effort and a well-documented study, and I have no major issues with the core content. However, my criticism is primarily directed at the five-page ‘Epilogue of Shame,’ which he recklessly appended to his book.  In my view, this epilogue undermines his work and reveals aspects of his hidden identity.

As a historian, his primary goal should be honesty; he should not have omitted or obscured the crucial facts that defined and compromised our future as a people. The naked truth is that Eritreans have suffered for more than three decades after independence under the PFDJ. Should Alemseged have addressed this tragedy with courage and honesty—a tragedy he knows inside and out? I say yes.

Am I being too harsh in recalling the old saying to describe Alemeseged’s mistake: “It is better to tell the truth and face the punishment than to lie and face the consequences”? A dear friend reminded me that this criticism does not fully hold, since Alemseged had to navigate the “lion’s den” to survive. Even so, he might have avoided trouble by omitting the five crucial pages that sparked such uproar.

Let’s set this frustration aside for now and move on to other aspects of the book.

The author has not only supplied foreign historians with valuable references on Eritrean history but has also contributed to expanding their understanding of Eritrea-related topics. While it’s not the complete narrative, it effectively presents an important part of the story.

Although the initial movement for independence in the 1940s, the tensions between pro-independence and pro-union factions in the 1950s, the occupation in the early 1960s, and the subsequent emergence of armed resistance have all been widely covered by historians, Alemseged deserves credit for documenting these events extensively and in-depth, both in Tigrinya and now in English.

There is a belief that many non-Tigrinya speakers should be able to access the three volumes in other languages of the country, such as Tigre and Arabic. With that in mind, our focus now shifts to the author.

Brief Biographical Account of Alemseged Tesfai

Born in 1944 in Adi Kuala, Alemseged studied in various regions of Eritrea and Ethiopia during his student years. In 1962, he graduated from Haile Selassie I Secondary School in Asmara.

He then pursued further education, earning both his first degree and a bachelor’s degree in law from the University of Addis Ababa. Later, he travelled to the United States to study landscaping at the University of Illinois.

After receiving his master’s degree in 1971, he entered a doctoral programme. However, as the Eritrean revolution intensified, he, like many young Eritreans, dropped out of college and joined the struggle for independence.

He became a member of the EPLF and began serving under Haile ‘DuruE’ Woldetensae in the National Leadership Department. There, he worked alongside him, teaching at the Revolutionary School. By the way, Haile Woldetensa’e is currently unjustly incarcerated and is recognised as a prisoner of conscience by Amnesty International.

After independence (1993–1996), Alemseged led the Land Commission and was a member of the team that finalised the new land allocation law – the team that nationalised both rural and urban land. He was then assigned to the PFDJ-led Eritrean Research and Documentation Centre under the Ministry of Information. He is still working at the centre.

Alemseged has left a legacy for future generations by writing a few books. He wrote a book called ‘Three Weeks in the Trenches’. And the famous three-volume account of ’40s written in Tigrinya: 1) ‘Let’s not separate’. 2) ‘The Federation of Eritrea with Ethiopia (from Matienzo to Tedla)’; 3) Eritrea – From Federation to Occupation and the Advent of Eritrean Revolution (1956-1962) and his new book is an English-language summary of the three volumes.

Putting the Three Volumes into Context

“Let’s Not Separate” (ኣይንፈላለ) was published in April 2001. Around the same time, an open letter was released in the private press, criticising President Isaias for his refusal to implement the 1997 Eritrean constitution.

This period also saw the expulsion of Mahmoud Sheriffo, the former Vice President and then Chair of the Electoral Commission, from the Ministry of Interior. His expulsion came after he circulated the party election guidelines.

One could argue that while the public showed little interest in Alemseged’s book at the time, they were deeply captivated by the stories about reforms that were being published in the private press.

In May of the same year, the group calling for the implementation of the constitution posted their open letter on the internet.

Haile ‘DuruE’ Woldetensae and Petros Solomon, both former fighters and prominent figures in the Eritrean revolution and its aftermath, were removed from their cabinet positions. In July, Teame Beyene, the former Chief Justice, was dismissed for opposing government interference in the judiciary.

In August, students at the University of Asmara were arrested for voicing their grievances. A month later, the former prominent combatants who had written the open letter to all PFDJ members—known as Group 15—were also arrested. With their arrests, Eritrea’s image became increasingly tarnished in the international community.

Therefore, during the era when ‘Let’s Not Separate’ was published, our author was right in the thick of those tumultuous times, so to speak.

The second volume, ‘Federation of Eritrea with Ethiopia,’ was published in June 2005. The situation in Eritrea at the time revealed that the country had been plunged into darkness. It was a time when the country began to grow isolated; visitors stayed away as the government cracked down on NGOs, expelled the largest one – USAID – and arrested minority religious leaders.

In addition, the opposition abroad actively and loudly echoed the internal situation in Eritrea, exposing the true nature and actions of the Eritrean regime.

His third book, From Federation to Occupation and Revolution, was published in 2016. The most talked-about issue at the time was the indefinite national service, and the plight of Eritrean youth fleeing into exile in droves.

Moreover, 2016 marked the 16th anniversary of the disappearance of Alemseged’s mentors, fellow fighters, and blood brothers—former revolutionary leaders and government officials—who had been arrested by the government in September 2001.

Generally speaking, the third book covered the Asfaha Woldemikael era and abruptly ended with the onset of the armed struggle.

Nine years have passed since Alemseged published his third volume, and he is now 81 years old. If he finds the courage to document Eritrea’s untold history – from 1962 to the present – will he still have the energy to do so? Or will this pivotal history, which directly shaped our lives, remain untold, awaiting another historian to resurface?

On second thought, just as Waiting for Godot captures the absurdity of existence and the futility of endless waiting, expecting Alemseged to document our tragedy may be equally pointless. At the risk of making a rhetorical point, some Eritreans might judge him for his silence and for taking refuge in the distant past instead of engaging with this most crucial period of betrayal in our history.

They say, ‘it is better to tell the truth and face the punishment than to look the other way or lie and face the consequences.’

What Alemseged Revealed in the Epilogue

Alemseged finally brought closure to his long silence through a short epilogue.

He began by stating that the Eritrean revolution is not well documented, relying mostly on scant, speculative, and unsubstantiated narratives. By this he implied that he had very little information with which to record that part of our history. But really, Alemseged?

He lived through that historical episode, took part in the armed struggle for two decades, and witnessed all that followed independence.

Besides, who wrote ‘The Other War, a play set in Ethiopia in the 1970s? Who wrote ‘Two Weeks in the Trenches: Reminiscences of Childhood and War in Eritrea’ – works based on witness accounts and first-hand experiences? And yet, now he says he cannot write from his own experiences and the events he himself witnessed?

His second claim is that today’s turmoil — the human rights and democracy movements — can be traced back to the old Jebha/ShaEbia divides. But is that really the case? Thousands of former EPLF fighters — Alemseged’s own comrades-in-arms — have openly rejected the Eritrean regime, not because of factional rivalries, but because of its repressive and authoritarian nature. They left the country, not to reignite old quarrels, but to freely voice their opposition. To reduce this struggle to a Jebha/ShaEbia issue is to dismiss the lived reality of those who sacrificed everything and later chose conscience over silence.

Furthermore, the worst period in Eritrea’s post-independence history occurred under the rule of Isaias Afwerki, when citizens’ rights were violated, hopes were shattered, people were massively displaced, the country was plunged into abject poverty, and Eritrea repeatedly entered into wars.

How can one’s conscience ignore such atrocities by offering flimsy excuses? Alemseged dismisses the above as mere ‘disparagement of Eritrea.’ But as the saying goes: ‘One can evade reality, but one cannot evade the consequences of evading reality.’

What broke my heart was when Alemseged boastfully claimed that driving tens of thousands of ELF fighters off Eritrean battlefields was what shaped the EPLF’s nationalist principles. How wrong! In my view, Eritrea suffered a tremendous loss when we lost the ELF. I believe that the duration of the armed struggle could have been shortened by at least ten years if the friction had been handled diplomatically.

We are all witnessing the impact of eliminating the ELF from the struggle now. While this may be speculative, I believe there is validity to my conjecture. Eritrea has effectively become the sole property of the EPLF/PFDJ, with no one left to challenge its appropriation. Isaias’s hell bent plans for Eritrea continue unchecked.

Why does Alemseged sound like an Isaias apologist? He praises the regime for its ‘iron discipline, enforced by an egalitarian culture and air-tight secrecy.’ He commends its policies for creating an atmosphere of congeniality and camaraderie among EPLF fighters, for promoting gender equality, for enforcing equality in religion and language, and for fostering uniformity and conformity within the ranks.

I wish he had scratched beneath the surface of his claims to reveal the true nature of the regime’s control mechanisms—and then called a spade a spade.

Alemseged rightly pointed out that those who know the history of the struggle and have experienced it first-hand are passing away, and with them, the history of Eritrea risks fading as well. Coming from a veteran fighter, this reflects an awareness that time is not on his side. Perhaps his comment was also a message to himself.