Mapping the Temporary
Security Zone near Adi Quala
Photo by Martin Stolk
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Cairo Times, Egypt, 30-11-2000
After two years of war between Ethiopia and Eritrea the United Nations are sending in the peacekeepers.
Spectacular is the only description that fits the landscape. Green fields fill the valley almost as far as the eye can see. A sheer cliff drops down some four hundred meters from the Eritrean highlands. With a sharp eye, one can discern the Ethiopian mountains on the horizon.
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Mapping the Temporary
Security Zone near Adi Quala |
"The silver line behind those hills in the distance is the Mereb river. That is the official border between Ethiopia and Eritrea," says Ronny Persson, the Swedish commander of the UN observer team based in the Eritrean front-line town of Adi Quala. The team is part of the peacekeeping force of UNMEE, the United Nations Mission in Ethiopia and Eritrea. The observer team was sent in only a few short weeks after the signing of the June ceasefire agreement that put an end to a bloody two-year border war, in which an estimated 100,000 people died on the battlefield.
During an all-out offensive launched in May, Ethiopia made huge gains on Eritrea. Eritrea decided to take the moral high ground, putting the lives of their soldiers and civilians first. By that time an estimated 1.1 million Eritreans, or a third of the country's population, had been displaced. Following a call of the Organization for African Unity (OAU) and the UN, their army retreated on the central and southern front. But Ethiopia pushed on. At the central front near Adi Quala, the boldness resulted in some of the worst battles in the two-year war. The subsequent slaughter is only surpassed by the March 1999 battle near Tserona, where an estimated 30,000 Ethiopian soldiers died when they were caught in a two kilometer-deep mine field and a wall of Eritrean machine gun fire.
The Eritrean observation post at the edge of the highlands near Adi Quala commands a magnificent view of the lowlands that run all the way to Ethiopia. Persson and his Tanzanian lieutenant Aloyce Laiser are mapping the valley. Laiser looks hesitantly into the abyss in front of him. "The Ethiopians must have been very confident to attack this mountain. Even if my commander had ordered it, I would not have done so. Militarily speaking it was suicide." Down at the bottom of the cliff it is clear how true Layser's observation is. Scattered body parts are the silent, but pungent witnesses to the carnage that took place. A gap in the mountain reveals the remains of dozens of people overgrown by green weeds.
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Decomposing corpses
spread a horrible stench |
An old Eritrean farmer keeps his white shawl in front of his nose against the stench. Enthusiastically he shows the different places where the Ethiopians walked into a hail of bullets. With his walking stick, he points at a half-decomposed torso. "Woyane," he says with distaste. Woyane is the Eritrean nickname for the leading Tigray faction in the Ethiopian government, the Marxist-Leninist league of the Tigray Peoples' Liberation Front (TPLF). Both Ethiopian president Meles Zenawi and Foreign Minister Seyoum Mesfin are part of this faction. According to the Eritreans, the TPLF-ML is the real cause of the conflict.
"The most important thing in life is struggle," proclaims a slogan on the wall of Adi Quala's secondary school. With only seven years of peace during the past four decades, it seems to have a ring of truth for Eritreans. Since the beginning of the current war, Ethiopia and Eritrea signed three peace agreements put forward by the OAU. But none of them was implemented. Only on 18 June this year--after five weeks of relentless fighting--did both parties agree to a ceasefire.
The cessation of hostilities calls for the demilitarization of a twenty-five kilometer strip of land inside Eritrea, following the deployment of a 4200-strong multinational peacekeeping force. Once the soldiers have gone, de-mining and the demarcation of the border should start. All the while negotiations for a final peace agreement will be ongoing, although such an agreement is at the moment still far away. Recent proxy talks in Algiers failed miserably, but after some intense shuttle diplomacy by US president Clinton's special representative Anthony Lake, the parties seem to be ready to continue in a neutral third country.
The main sticking point in reaching an agreement seems to be compensation for the damages suffered by the two parties' civilian population. That and the launching of an official inquiry into who actually started the conflict. However, Yemane Gebremeskel, advisor to Eritrean President Isaias Afeworki, remains hopeful for a conclusive peace agreement. "We have gone the extra mile, literally," he says. "With a situation so favorable to Ethiopia, they can not reject peace without defaming themselves in front of the international community."
According to the UN, UNMEE is the most rapidly deployed peace mission in the history of the UN. The first ceasefire observers were present a mere four weeks after the 18 June agreement, and the main body of peacekeepers will arrive the first week of December. Eritreans, however, have their doubts as to where the UN's allegiances lie. In 1952, the organization was responsible for their federation with Ethiopia. In addition, during the subsequent thirty-year liberation war, the Red Sea nation could not count on UN support. Even in the current conflict, the Eritrean feeling is that the UN sided with Ethiopia.
Still it was Eritrea that asked for a UN peacekeeping mission under OAU auspices instead of a purely African force. With its headquarters in Ethiopia's capital Addis Abeba, the OAU is deemed even more subjective than the UN. At a terrace on Liberation Avenue, the main street of Eritrea's capital Asmara, Hanna, a history student, cites more skeptical reasons to welcome the UN. "With lots of white western soldiers here the world will finally care about what is happening in Eritrea. Suddenly they have an interest in stopping the war," he says.
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Life is slowly returning to normal |
Politicians in the western countries participating in UNMEE--of whom the Netherlands and Canada will constitute the main force--try to sell the mission to their parliaments by arguing it will be a very simple "classic peacekeeping mission." It is a conception that reeks of naiveté. If everything were well between the enemies, a peacekeeping mission would not be necessary. While there may well be no repeat of the US's 1992 Restore Hope operation in Somalia--when the dead bodies of American marines were dragged through the streets of Mogadishu--UNMEE has to take into account the risk of renewed hostilities.
The UN, however, praises the discipline of the enemy armies. At times the atmosphere at the front can be very tense, especially at spots where the frontline soldiers lie in trenches that are at shouting distance. But thus far, the UN's military observers (UNMOs) have neither seen nor heard of any ceasefire violations, though of course their numbers are limited and they cannot be everywhere all of the time. Finnish Colonel Mati, UNMO commander in Adi Keyeh, watches Ethiopian-occupied Senafe through his binoculars. At least two Ethiopian and three Eritrean trenches separate him from the village. "We have shown our flag, so the Ethiopians know we are here," he says. "But we have as yet to see the first UN flags at the Ethiopian side. The observers there seem to get much less access."
The past friendship between the countries has been irretrievably damaged, and the propaganda machines of both countries have been working overtime since the ceasefire. While Ethiopia--not undeservedly--claims the military victory, the Eritreans claim--also not undeservedly--the moral victory. Both, however, seem to think it makes them right. Colonel Frederick Hoogeland, head of the observer part of the mission, philosophizes on the issue. "The Eritreans are wholly convinced they are in the right, and I can imagine they actually are," he says. "But they do not see the difference between being right and actually getting right. It is a very significant political distinction, but they do not seem to grasp it. They presume justice will be done, but in all honesty many times it just does not work that way."
Although officially the war has come to an end, talk of a fight has not yet abated. Zenawi has repeatedly told his troops to be ready for another offensive, and the Eritrea Foreign Ministry claims regularly that Ethiopia is preparing for another round of fighting. During the inauguration of Somalia's new president Abdulkarim Salat Hassan last August both Zenawi and Afeworki were present, but they did not acknowledge each other's presence.
"If he [Zenawi] does not talk to me, why should I start talking to him," said President Afeworki during an interview with the Cairo Times in the Denden club, next to his office in Asmara. Behind him the sun shines on a huge painting of three tanks. On the opposite wall, the fierce eyes of a freedom fighter with dreadlocks and a Kalashnikov, burn out of another painting. The building used to be the Ethiopian Officers' Club, and the Italian Officers' Club before that. Now, the current Eritrean government--itself largely made up of fighters--has made the club its own.
Despite the presence of the UN, Afeworki is not very convinced of Ethiopia's desire for peace. After twenty-five years on the Eritrean battlefields and nine years in the president's seat, he is still more a soldier than a diplomat. "I believe in what I see. And what I see is that since the beginning of the ceasefire, Ethiopia has been mining the huge parts of Eritrea it occupies," he says. "They have made new trenches, and are gathering troops and weapons. Tell me if on the basis of these facts I should trust the peaceful intentions of Ethiopia," he laughs bitterly.
Though the ceasefire seems to be holding, the real success of the peacekeeping mission can not be measured for some years to come. Both parties will have to hand over their border claims first, and Ethiopia has never exactly stated what their claims constitute. Even after official delineation, new disputes can arise. It is highly unlikely UNMEE's mission will be fulfilled within the one year time frame of its mandate.
Other obstacles are also in store for UNMEE, demilitarization being one of the primary ones. Discussions of Ethiopian troop withdrawals will not be easy. After that, de-mining will be a major issue. Eritrea still has three million land mines from the last war, and in the past two years at least 100,000 new mines have been added. According to current projections, UNMEE will not be able to fully deploy for another four months due to land mines. The first hurdle, however, has already been crossed. Last week the mission agreed to a safe corridor for goods and people.
Nevertheless, as demarcation follows demilitarization, there is still a long way to go before tensions on the Ethiopian-Eritrean border--wherever it may be-- subside. Whether there will ever be real peace and brotherhood again between the two countries is an altogether totally different question.