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May 2, 2002, Cairo Times
Four years later, Ethiopia and Eritrea have finally been told where their border is, but according to Martin Stolk, that does not mean they like it.
Horn of Africa neighbors Ethiopia and Eritrea have not yet left troubled times behind. Appointed to delineate once and for all the border between the two countries, the International Boundary Commission handed down its decision on 13 April, 2002. Though they've tried to hide it, the border ruling was a disappointment for both countries.
It took only three and a half months for the independent commission in The Hague, the Netherlands to decide on land that Ethiopia and Eritrea fought over for more than two years. Between May 1998 and July 2000 it was the largest conventional war in the world, with over half a million soldiers engaged in trench warfare frighteningly reminiscent of World War I. An estimated 80,000 people died. At the height of the crisis, almost two million people were displaced by the fighting.
The atmosphere in the room where the commission presented its findings in a closed session must have been murderous that Saturday morning, with both Ethiopian and Eritrean representatives listening stoically to the decision.
The pressure on both governments had been mounting preceding the ruling. Tensions rose in the border area as well as in both capitals. Though the guns were silenced with the cease-fire of July 2000, the war of words had never really abated. A full Security Council delegation--a rare happening--came to visit at the end of February and on March 15 the mandate of the United Nations peace mission in Ethiopia and Eritrea (UNMEE) was extended five months. Before, during and even now after the border ruling, the observers of UNMEE are on high alert.
Ethiopia claimed total victory immediately after the ruling, saying they had gained all the towns they fought for: Zalambessa, Bure, Alitena and several others. Ethiopia's PR people had first strike, knowing first news always lodges in the peoples' minds. Eritrea reacted a little slower, but after studying the report came up with a careful spin of its own. They claim to have retained the town over which the whole war started: Badme.
Before the 135-page report was made public two days later, the two countries were back at a full-fledged mudslinging competition, making as much political noise as possible to confuse the issue of who had actually won the most territory. Looking at the commission's maps however, it is clear both countries lost and won.
The report has many political implications. When looking at the ruling, the people of Ethiopia and Eritrea will wonder whether their leaders were right to go to war--and if the result was worth it. The commission's map is the first time both Ethiopian and Eritrean
claims have been made public. The importance of this is that it shows what the countries wanted to gain when they went to war. Secondly, it is--mainly academically--interesting to see how closely these claims resemble the pre-war border, to see if the gamble was worth it. Most interesting, however, is to see what each country in the end realized of its claim.
Putting those maps together, it shows that the commission's decision puts the border generally closer to the Eritrean claim line than to the Ethiopian, but Eritrea had some sensitive losses in the Bada and Irob areas. The most significant loss for Ethiopia is the area south of Tserona, and the fact that their extensive claim on the Western
front was almost ridiculed by the commission.The border area is going to face some uncertain times. UNMEE estimates it will still take 12 to 18 months to actually demarcate the 1000-kilometer border. Rolls of barbed wire will be spun along GPS-determined points. And the new Iron Curtain will undoubtedly go through major battlefields still strewn with corpses and land mines. Only after this demarcation will it be clear where the village of Badme is.
Ethiopia decided this weekend not to wait. They closed the border for the UN's peace mission after UNMEE had escorted journalists from the Eritrean capital Asmara to Badme--which is currently under Ethiopian administration. "The fact that UNMEE took journalists to Badme from Asmara insinuates that Badme is in Eritrea and this is simply not the case," an Ethiopian official told the BBC. The Ethiopian anger rings a little hollow, however, as apparently UNMEE had sought permission from the Ethiopian capital Addis Ababa for the press trip.
The flare-up illustrates the controversy around the border town. Most likely, Ethiopia wishes to pressure the UN to declare Badme Ethiopian--something that would put the whole border ruling up for negotiation. The closure is thought to be only temporary, but it makes it impossible for UNMEE to oversee the ceasefire. It's the worst crisis UNMEE has faced so far.
The ruling has far-reaching consequences for the governments of Ethiopia and Eritrea--which basically gambled their very existence and legitimacy on the border decision. The current propaganda war has as its main aim to keep the governments in power following the ruling.
In Ethiopia, parts of the opposition are saying that since Ethiopia won the war, they should be the ones to decide where the new border is. Amhara opposition groups--historically Ethiopia's politically dominant ethnic group--have described Ethiopian prime minister Meles Zenawi as an Eritrean mercenary, who has left Ethiopia landlocked by first allowing Eritrea's independence in 1991 and secondly not pushing hard when the tanks were rolling two years ago. The Ethiopian Democratic Party (EDP)--currently the strongest opposition party--collected 100,000 signatures for a petition saying Ethiopia should not be bound to the boundary commission's ruling.
What really put the thumbscrews on the prime minister is that hardliners from his own ethnic group, the northern Ethiopian Tigrayans, also regret Zenawi not negotiating a more advantageous peace agreement. They think Ethiopia should at least have toppled its neighbor's government. As the Tigrayans control the army, Zenawi briefly risked a coup spring last year but outmaneuvered them smartly. He imprisoned the dissidents, their families and some high placed symphatizers and charged them with corruption. Nevertheless, their ideas drew a large amount of popular support. Last week's resignation of the prosecutor in charge of the trials against the TPLF dissidents has cast doubts on the entire judicial process.
These groups voice a sentiment that many Ethiopians share. The country's war propaganda has been so effective that the people now hate the Eritreans more than the government wants them to. Zenawi has accused the opposition of playing dangerous games. Attempts to change the border ruling could cause serious destabilization to the Horn of Africa. More practically, if Ethiopia does not accept the ruling it could jeopardize its own claim to the Somali Ogaden. For Ethiopia there always can only be one option: whatever the ruling, it will be presented as an Ethiopian victory.
Clearly, the Eritrean government is under internal pressure too, for many of the same reasons. Eritrean President Isaias Afeworki is already losing the confidence of his people after last September's imprisonment of a number of dissidents who openly challenged him to democratize. Their politicians may deny it, but the Eritrean people widely suspect their country to have undertaken the first major offensive of the conflict. With 19,000 soldiers killed, a large amount for a population of only 3.5 million, Afeworki needed some victory in the border ruling. However, his problems are less pressing as those of Zenawi, simply because he has no one to challenge his leadership--outside of jail that is.
International development agencies have lamented the war between two of the world's poorest countries. The economic and human cost is still unclear, but observers estimate Ethiopian war expenses at $2.9 billion. The real cost however is not in money spent, but in money not made and stunted development.
The uncertainty over the exact location of the border, ten of thousands landmines and many more pieces of unexploded ordnance, make it difficult for remaining refugees to return home this year. Some 73,000 Eritreans who used to live in what is now the UNMEE-patrolled Temporary Security Zone (TSZ) are still in camps, together with 13,000 who have been deported from Ethiopia. In addition, the UNHCR is repatriating the last 121,000 Eritrean refugees who fled to Sudan during the liberation war between 1961 and 1991.
This week Eritrea started with the demobilization of the first 5,000 of their 200,000 front soldiers, a process that will take over one year. The ex-soldiers will get money, food, trauma counseling, and health advice on the dangers of HIV/Aids--a disease feared rampant in the trenches. The country has experience with demobilization, and knows it is not easy.
The most pressing problem at the moment however is the Ethiopian border closure. Ethiopia will have to pull back from territory which they currently may have under administration, but which is actually Eritrean. Eritrea does not have this problem as all of the Temporary Security Zone is on their territory.
For both countries and especially for former soldiers and people from the border area, there is still a long way to go before they will be able to pick up the thread of their lives again. Ethiopia and Eritrea still have some rough times ahead. All is not forgotten and forgiven between the two former comrades-in-arms.