- ‘I left my sister behind with our shared toys and only a blurred memory of her face. She came back to me two decades later,’ says veteran journalist, referring to a hopeful moment of peace in 2018

- ‘The solution is for conflicting political elites to come together, talk and solve their problems. Once structural issues are addressed … that will produce positive outcomes at both micro and macro levels,’ says political analyst Mukerrem Miftah

ADDIS ABABA, Ethiopia 

In 2018, the Horn of Africa saw a wave of euphoric family reunions, briefly uniting a culture bound by blood but separated for two decades by a political line drawn between Ethiopia and Eritrea.

Speaking to Anadolu, a veteran journalist who requested anonymity for security reasons, described her life straddling that line. Half Eritrean, half Ethiopian, she has lived the dilemma firsthand.

“I left my sister behind with our shared toys and only a blurred memory of her face,” she said. “She came back to me two decades later. I don’t know what better captures the significance of the 2018 border opening.”

She said her extended family, including three sisters, two brothers and many relatives, remains on the other side of the border.

The 2018 peace deal, which briefly reopened border crossings, reached its political high point when Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed won the 2019 Nobel Peace Prize for ending the decades-long standoff. The award highlighted the agreement to end the war officially, restore diplomatic ties, and revive travel and trade.

For families split by the conflict, peace offered a chance at a long-delayed reunion.

However, in 2019, Eritrea gradually closed the border again, due to a combination of internal political concerns and a failure to fully implement the peace agreement.

Blood thicker than politics

The shared history of Ethiopia and Eritrea meant that when the political line was drawn, it cut straight through families. Eritrean-Swede Haben Girmay’s family was one of them.

“It’s unfortunate, I don’t remember my uncles and aunts well. They’re still in Ethiopia,” Girmay said. “What I clearly remember is the excitement when the border opened in 2018 … I remember my parents rushing to call, hoping to meet relatives and friends after so long.”

The brief window of peace offered a powerful counter-narrative to years of hostility between the two nations’ political elites.

“2018 is a living example – when the borders opened, the airports were overwhelmed,” said Genet Haile, an Eritrean by origin and now an Ethiopian citizen.

“We left Asmara in 1966. I was only three. Eritrea wasn’t independent yet. I barely remember Asmara, and assuming separation wouldn’t happen, I never visited again as an adult. I missed the chance again when the borders reopened in 2018,” she said.

“I hope things cool down again, that borders might reopen. But if war breaks out, my biggest regret will be missing the chance to visit my family on the other side.”

The veteran journalist also reflected on what she witnessed covering the 2020-2022 Tigray conflict.

“I saw people on both sides of the conflict speaking the same language,” she said. “I interviewed similar families at different borders and in different circumstances. If politics can heal, then people can heal too.”

Shadow of war returns

Today’s friction is fueled by Ethiopia’s intensified push for sovereign maritime access to the Red Sea – a strategic asset it lost after Eritrea’s 1993 independence. Ethiopia frames the demand as an imperative, while Eritrea casts it as an existential threat, reviving narratives rooted in old mistrust.

The danger, said sociologist and regional political analyst Mukerrem Miftah, is that political rhetoric can once again overshadow the shared social reality.

“What I see is more political posturing and point-scoring than any real prospect of hand-to-hand combat,” Mukerrem told Anadolu, adding that “the geopolitical and economic situations of both countries cannot shoulder a war.”

But others urge caution, pointing to how quickly rhetoric has escalated into conflict across the Horn, including in Sudan and Ethiopia.

“I believe war is on the horizon, and it will not only involve the two countries – it will destabilize the whole region,” Belay Zemechael, a political scientist and researcher at Ethiopia’s Gondar University, told Anadolu.

Conflicts in the region, he said, “show how rhetoric escalates into war easily, despite economic fragility and catastrophic consequences.”

The 1998-2000 Ethiopia-Eritrea war claimed the lives of some 70,000 people, according to various estimates, with the vast majority of fighting taking place on the border.

Structural problems

For analysts like Mukerrem, the collapse of the 2018 peace was structural. Symbolic gestures were not backed by durable political solutions to decades of mutual suspicion.

“The 2018 rapprochement didn’t heal the wounds sustained over the last three decades,” he said.

To preserve social and cultural ties, he added, political leaders must engage directly.

“The solution is for conflicting political elites to come together, talk and solve their problems. Once structural issues are addressed at the macro level, that will produce positive outcomes at both micro and macro levels.”

Until that political healing occurs, analysts say, even strong cultural ties remain vulnerable to the latest geopolitical shifts. For now, divided families on both sides must once again rely on the strength of their bloodline to withstand the political vacuum.