Asmara (Caasimada Online) – In a rare and candid moment, Eritrean President Isaias Afwerki has pulled back the curtain on what may be the most destabilizing geopolitical maneuver the Horn of Africa has seen in decades: an alleged plan by Ethiopia—reportedly backed by the United Arab Emirates—to reroute its trade through Eritrea and Somaliland, sidelining Djibouti and challenging Somalia’s sovereignty.

In a striking interview, Afwerki accused the UAE of driving Ethiopia’s efforts to bypass Djibouti and dominate the Red Sea trade corridor, exploiting Somaliland’s lack of international recognition as a strategic loophole.

He revealed that he turned down an Ethiopian proposal to channel all of its maritime trade through Eritrea’s Port of Assab—a move he said would have dealt a crushing blow to Djibouti’s economy, which relies heavily on Ethiopian cargo.

The plan, according to Afwerki, was not only reckless but driven by what he called a “fantasy” promoted by UAE President Mohammed bin Zayed, who he claimed aims to establish a “constellation of ports” across the region.

His remarks offer crucial insight into the high-stakes strategy of Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed—one that has plunged the region into one of its most serious crises in recent years. A secret maritime access deal intended to ease Ethiopia’s economic woes has instead inflamed nationalist sentiment in Somalia, rallied a coalition of regional powers to counter Addis Ababa, and pushed the fragile Horn closer to confrontation.

A secret deal and a firestorm

The storm broke on January 1, 2024, when Ethiopia signed a Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) with Somaliland, the self-declared independent region in northern Somalia. The agreement was explosive: Ethiopia would lease 20 kilometers of Red Sea coastline for a naval base and commercial port. In exchange, Addis Ababa offered Somaliland a stake in Ethiopian Airlines—and more controversially, hinted that it could be the first country to recognize Somaliland’s independence officially.

This MoU was more than just a legal document—it sent geopolitical shockwaves across the region.

It symbolized what observers have dubbed the “Abiy Doctrine”: a foreign policy approach marked by secrecy, personalization, and high-risk maneuvers. Facing internal insurgencies, a faltering economy, and growing diplomatic isolation, Abiy cast access to the sea as an “existential issue” for Ethiopia’s 120 million people. He invoked historical claims to ancient Ethiopian ports as justification—but to his neighbors, the rhetoric echoed the colonial era’s playbook of expansion.

Somalia responded swiftly and unequivocally. President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud condemned the MoU as a direct violation of Somalia’s sovereignty, declaring it “null and void,” and rushed through emergency legislation that criminalizes the deal. Mogadishu expelled the Ethiopian ambassador, recalled its own, and launched an aggressive diplomatic campaign that drew support from the African Union, Arab League, European Union, United States, and China. Ethiopia found itself unusually isolated on the international stage.

A new coalition takes shape

The fallout didn’t end there. The MoU ignited a surge of Somali nationalism, which President Mohamud harnessed to unite a divided nation behind a shared cause. In a dramatic geopolitical shift, Somalia has aligned itself with two of Ethiopia’s historical adversaries: Egypt, which has long sparred with Addis Ababa over the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD), and Eritrea, Abiy’s former ally that has become a rival.

Today, Somalia receives military assistance from Cairo and diplomatic support from Asmara—forming what regional analysts are calling a “containment coalition” aimed squarely at curbing Ethiopia’s ambitions.

Djibouti also finds itself at the center of the crisis. The tiny nation handles more than 95% of Ethiopia’s imports and earns around $2 billion annually from its port services. Had Ethiopia followed through with plans to abandon Djibouti in favor of Eritrea’s Port of Assab—as Afwerki revealed—it could have devastated Djibouti’s economy. Eritrea’s rejection of the proposal, then, wasn’t just a diplomatic slap; it was a crucial intervention that may have prevented economic upheaval across the region.

Meanwhile, the UAE’s role adds yet another layer of complexity. Through its logistics giant DP World, the Emirates already manages Berbera Port in Somaliland and is expanding its military and commercial footprint around the Red Sea. Afwerki’s warning—that the UAE is seeking to dominate a chain of ports from Berbera to Assab and into southern Yemen—suggests a broader realignment of power in the region, one that could prove deeply destabilizing.

And in this shifting landscape, a desperate and isolated Abiy Ahmed has become a willing partner.

A fragile pause, not a resolution

The most alarming consequence of Ethiopia’s port gambit has been the resurgence of Al-Shabaab. The extremist group has seized on the nationalist backlash in Somalia, recasting itself as a defender of Somali territory. The crisis has helped the group attract recruits, tap fresh sources of funding, and regain ground lost to Somali and international counterterrorism operations.

It has also threatened to unravel regional security efforts. At the height of the crisis, Somalia considered expelling thousands of Ethiopian troops deployed as part of the African Union mission.

After months of rising tension, a diplomatic opening finally emerged. In December 2024, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan brokered the Ankara Declaration, a de-escalation agreement between Ethiopia and Somalia. As a key partner to Somalia and a growing competitor to the UAE, Turkey was uniquely positioned to mediate the conflict.

But while the agreement was hailed as a breakthrough, it left many questions unanswered. It reaffirmed Somalia’s territorial integrity—but made no mention of the Ethiopia-Somaliland MoU. That ambiguity has allowed all sides to claim victory: Mogadishu insists the deal is dead, Somaliland maintains it is still valid, and Ethiopia has remained silent—buying time.

In truth, the MoU has not been revoked. It remains in limbo—a dormant geopolitical time bomb.

While the Ankara Declaration helped avert immediate conflict, it did not resolve any of the deeper tensions. Ethiopia’s quest for a port continues. Somalia’s defense of its borders remains firm. Djibouti is still vulnerable. And the UAE’s ambitions in the region remain unchecked.

The Horn of Africa, for now, is quiet—but dangerously on edge.

If negotiations stall or internal pressures escalate, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed may once again reach for the most volatile tools in his arsenal: a disputed port deal, a bold promise, and a move that could reignite the region’s next great crisis.