By Dr. Tomas Solomon | October 18, 2026
Ignoring the depth of Eritrea’s wounds and simply declaring, “I stand with my troops,” without questioning the consequences of another war or the leadership driving the country toward it, will only deepen the people’s suffering and push Eritrea further toward catastrophe. In this article, I will examine the potentially devastating consequences of the looming war and present an alternative path that prioritizes the lives of Eritreans, addresses the root causes of the national crisis, and offers a practical way forward toward a peaceful, free, and prosperous future.
Eritrea and Ethiopia are once again standing on the brink of a potentially devastating all-out war, one that could unleash destruction on a scale the people cannot afford to endure. On October 15, the Associated Press reported mounting alarm over the escalating confrontation as Washington urged both nations to exercise restraint. The horrors of the 2020 – 2022 Tigray war, which claimed hundreds of thousands of lives according to widely cited estimates, remain a terrifying reminder of the human cost of such conflicts. Yet another war between Eritrea and Ethiopia could prove even more destructive, turning the Horn of Africa into a battlefield of unprecedented suffering. For Eritrea in particular, the consequences could be existential, threatening not merely its stability but the very survival of the nation as we know it.
Eritrea would enter such a conflict after decades of extreme national exhaustion. Independence promised its citizens the freedom to shape their own future. Instead, they have endured a dictatorial regime characterized by political repression, indefinite national service, economic stagnation, and a continuing exodus of young people. Human Rights Watch’s 2026 World Report documents the persistence of these abuses. A nation already suffering from demographic decline, institutional decay, economic paralysis, and deep social exhaustion has limited capacity to absorb the devastating consequences of another prolonged war. Under these conditions, a major military defeat could trigger far more than territorial losses. It could accelerate mass displacement, destroy what remains of the public services, and precipitate a humanitarian and political catastrophe that threatens the very existence of Eritrea as a sovereign nation.
Many Eritreans bitterly oppose PFDJ rule yet understandably fear that Ethiopian military intervention might revive the subordination they experienced under the Derg regime, which Eritreans fought so hard to end. That fear gives rise to a familiar declaration: “I oppose the PFDJ dictatorship, but at this moment, I will stand with my troops to defend my country.” The impulse seems patriotic, but it raises a difficult question: If defending the country means granting the same leaders unlimited authority to sacrifice another generation, what precisely is being saved? What kind of patriotism places greater value on protecting the land than on preserving the lives of the people who call it home?
This is not an argument for Ethiopian domination of Eritrea, nor does it suggest that defending our land is unimportant. Rather, it challenges the dangerous assumption that loyalty to one’s country requires unconditional support for its rulers and troops during times of war. History has already taught Eritreans the devastating consequences of failing to question those in power. Following the disastrous 1998 – 2000 war with Ethiopia, the G15, a group of high ranking independence veterans and senior government officials, questioned the conduct of the war and demanded accountability and democratic reforms, although their demands came late. Independent journalists and other concerned Eritreans also raised critical questions about the country’s direction. Instead of listening to these voices, the regime responded with arrests, enforced disappearances, and the complete shutdown of the independent press in September 2001.
More than two decades later, Eritrea faces another potentially devastating confrontation, yet the same argument is being repeated: that patriotism requires setting aside our differences and rallying behind the leadership in the name of national defense. But how many times must Eritreans sacrifice their youth before questioning the decisions that repeatedly lead them into wars? True patriotism demands the courage to hold leaders accountable, especially when their actions threaten the nation’s very survival. A nation is not defined by its territory alone, but by the people who inhabit it and the future they are able to build. Protecting the land while allowing its people to be endlessly sacrificed is not national preservation. It contradicts the very purpose of independence. Sovereignty belongs to the Eritrean people, not to the PFDJ, and no government should be allowed to invoke it as a justification for sacrificing the nation it claims to defend.
There is another path forward: urgent de-escalation of the conflict, a negotiated framework for an Eritrean-led political transition, and a lasting peace between Eritrea and Ethiopia founded on mutual respect, shared economic interests, and practical cooperation. The removal of the PFDJ regime must be a prerequisite for establishing lasting peace and stability in the region, and achieving this goal must be a shared responsibility of Eritreans, Eritrea’s neighbors, and the international community, as decades of authoritarian rule and recurring confrontation have undermined the foundations of regional stability. Rather than remaining trapped in a destructive cycle of confrontation under PFDJ rule, both Eritrea and Ethiopia could pursue a new relationship that transforms their geographic proximity, economic interdependence, and shared history into opportunities for lasting peace and prosperity. A future partnership between Eritrea and Ethiopia could include commercially negotiated Ethiopian access to Eritrean ports, expanded cross-border trade, transportation and energy cooperation, investment, and mutually beneficial security arrangements that build trust and strengthen regional stability. Eritrea’s and Ethiopia’s national interests need not be in conflict. With responsible leadership, credible guarantees, and a genuine commitment to peaceful coexistence, their respective interests can complement one another, creating a more secure and prosperous future for both peoples.
For Eritrean families, especially the youth, the first priority must be protecting their lives rather than repeating the sacrifices of previous generations to keep the PFDJ regime in power. History has repeatedly shown how the regime uses the defense of Eritrean territory to justify endless wars and forced military service, while ordinary Eritreans pay the price with their lives, freedom, and future. Those who declare, “I stand with my troops,” must ask themselves whether their support truly protects the soldiers and the people or merely strengthens the leadership sending them into another war. If the government cannot secure peace, its continued existence must be challenged rather than defended at any cost. Eritrean families have already endured decades of separation, forced conscription, displacement, and sacrifice. Their suffering cannot be treated as an endless obligation. In other countries, citizens have challenged governments over increases in the price of basic necessities, sometimes as small as a few cents. Against that comparison, the continued forced roundup of Eritrean youth raises an even more fundamental question about the value placed on human life. The protection of young people, an end to coercive mobilization, and a peaceful existence must be central to any serious effort to secure Eritrea’s future.
Tigray offers a painful warning of the devastating consequences of war, one that Eritreans cannot afford to ignore. The 2020 – 2022 conflict robbed an entire generation of young people of precious years that should have been devoted to education, building careers, raising families, and improving their lives. Those who survived were left to confront displacement, trauma, poverty, and an uncertain future. Even after the guns fell silent, the suffering continued. Communities remained fractured, and livelihoods were destroyed. This is the true cost of war. Its destruction is measured not only in lives lost on the battlefield but also in the opportunities, prosperity, and human potential that vanish for generations. For Eritrea, another devastating war could inflict damage so intense that the nation may never recover again. This time around, Eritrean youth must confront a fundamental question: What will another round of sacrifice achieve if it leaves their families grieving, their communities devastated, and their country poorer, weaker, and less free?
