On September 18 & 19, 2001, the Government of Eritrea enforced the disappearance of a group of Eritreans who had called for reform, and the reporters who reported on them. This article is not about them as individuals or their suffering families, but about how the country’s trajectory changed dramatically for the worse as a result of that fateful day. And that fateful day, I will argue, was caused by a sense of siege the government felt, mostly by connecting dots that were not connected. This tendency to connect dots that are not connected continues to this day–both inside the government and the Opposition–resulting in the stagnation and radicalization of both. We are all walking sideways, holding wounds and grudges, and, in this environment, talk of reconciliation is “defeatism.”
1.The Antecedent
9/18 was a culmination of events that began with the announcement of Cessation of Hostilities Agreement between Eritrea and Ethiopia, signed in June 18, 2000. The treaty ended a bloody two-year “border war” (1998-2000) that was called a “senseless war“, and “two bald men fighting over a comb” by the rest of the world but, for the average Eritrean, it was the “shocking war.” Shocking because the events of 1991-1997 in Eritrea– independence, referendum vote, demobilization of soldiers, constitution drafting, private press proclamation, liberalization of economic policies–did not at all foreshadow the brutal two-year-long war between TPLF-led Ethiopia and PFDJ-led Eritrea. It was a shock because as recently as 1995, PFDJ was helping organize “Tigray Rehabilitation Campaigns” in solidarity with TPLF, in the Diaspora. Whatever their emerging differences, they had kept it under wraps until it blew up on May 13, 1998 – the day Ethiopia told the world it had been invaded. I know for many of you who have heard that “Weyane/Shaebia is our blood enemy” your entire life this may come as a surprise but, at the time, the news of Eritrea and Ethiopia going to war was as unexpected as news of USA and Canada going to war.
During the two-year war, many, if not most, of us, adopted a “TwgaH’mo” attitude–I will defer my criticism of the government until this existential threat is gone. If you are thinking “existential threat” was an exaggeration, consider this: at the time, the Eritrean government did not even have a website, and its novice government was going to go toe-to-toe with a founding member of the League of Nations, the UN and the OAU. So, many of us enlisted in the cause, including the information wars, at the only space we had then: dehai.org. The rookie government had smarted from its mistake of taking too-long to respond to the US-Rwanda Agreement; after that, it accepted every peace treaty proposed — Modalities, Framework Agreement — literally the same day proposed. But war had its logic, and Ethiopia’s TPLF insisted on status quo ante, the one precondition they knew they couldn’t get after all the displacements and deportations. After two rounds of bloody battles in 98 and 99, the UN Security Council, headed by then US Ambassador to the UN, Richard Holbrook, visited Eritrea and Ethiopia in May 2000 to make a last-ditch effort to avert the last war. It failed and concluded “the Ethiopians have their war mask on.” War was coming. Meanwhile, the Eritrean Government spoke as if it had a secret weapon that was not visible to us: that there is no way we would lose militarily. We have defeated Ethiopia in the past and we will defeat it again, no matter how many weapons they shop for using their weapons catalog, claimed the president.
The war ended in June 18, 2000, with 25% of Eritrea’s uncontested territory occupied and 30% of our people internally displaced. The war did not end on our terms, no matter how many “it could have been worse” stories PFDJ told us. To this day, the State narrative is that we won the war.
2. The Aftermath
Once the Cessation of Hostilities agreement was signed, our two years of groaning quietly and pent up pressure needed a valve. Eritrea’s trigger for political change is always its exiled population, and this was no exception. It began with articles from exiled Eritreans on asmarino.com (July 2000) and awate.com (September 2000); the convening of G-13 (September 2000); the Eritrean private press abandoning self-censorship (Sept 2000); and the accountability questions of Central Council members (September 2000.)
For a while, the Government of Eritrea, which had owned the State Narrative since 1982 when it monopolized the liberation fronting, appeared to be shocked and paralyzed by these developments. Once it awakened, sensing that there were connections and conspiracies it had missed, it connected every dot: everything was connected to everything!
How do I know this? Because I was in the middle of it. I wrote “TwgaH’mo: Why & Why Now?” for asmarino.com on July 7, 2000. To me– a private citizen with no political party or clique affiliation–this was a continuation of what I had been doing since 1994: writing about Eritrean governance. Here’s an excerpt from the article:
…Nearly one third of our population is displaced. Drought looms and the land is not harvested. Thousands of Eritrean mothers await news from or about their children. Our land is bloodied and our economy is in ruins. Under these circumstances, it is perfectly normal and acceptable to ask tough questions: who is responsible? Could this tragedy have been avoided? Could this war have had a different outcome? It is natural to have pundits and analysts (sound and bogus), spiritualists and physicians (healers and quacks) to present their remedy on what went wrong and what we should do next.
What is unacceptable is to try to bring about change violently. We should tell external pressure groups and agitators for change that Eritrea has bled enough. We should have a pact that we will reject any solution if it comes violently. Talk to us, convince us why your way is better but don’t try to force yourself to the seat of power violently. What is also unacceptable is to, without due process, no justice and no transparency–to designate a fall-guy (or fall guys) and disappear/jail him (or them.) We should tell our government that this is unacceptable practice and the world and we are watching.
The article doesn’t even make it to my top 10 favorites, but the message resonated with many Eritreans not because it had special insight or was clever but because it was timely. That’s exactly what many were thinking inside and outside the government, inside and outside the country, particularly the self-censoring private press. That was Dot 1.
On September 1, 2000, awate.com was founded. Soon, it was hosting dozens of articles, critical of the government, sometimes from people who were inside the government (Ambassador Mohammed Nur; Ambassador Hibret, etc.) That was Dot 2.
asmarino.com & awate.com were both based in California, one in Los Angeles, another in San Jose. That was Dot 3.
In late September 2000, PFDJ Central Council met and issued these resolutions: (1) a committee to review the execution of the war with Ethiopia; (2) a mechanism for immediate implementation of the 1997 constitution; (3) convening of PFDJ Congress within six months; (4) and holding national elections by December 2001. That was Dot 4.
This was immediately followed by the G-13’s “Dear President Isaias” October 1, 2000 letter but, by then, PFDJ, having connected random dots, had regained its footing and decided to fight back. The letter was leaked, the signers named G-13, and the document was named after the place they met: Berlin Manifesto. The focus would change from the content of the letter–cease unilateral decisions in favor of collective decision-making–to the identity of the writers, how the letter was leaked, the place they met at, and who funded the meeting anyway. That was Dot 5.
Within months, Eritrea’s private press had overtaken the state media as most-consumed by the people. Issues of Tsigenay, Keste Debena, Admas, Setit, Salina, Zemen, Meqalh would sell out minutes after they were published, with the State paper, Haddas Ertra, all by its lonesome, with nothing to say about what was rocking the country. That was Dot 6.
The government saw the writers at asmarino.com, awate.com, G-13, the private press and G-15 as connected: we were all having secret meetings to coordinate what to say, when to say it, and how to say it. Where is this coming from, asked People’s Front Secretary Alamin M Seid. After all, you are one of us, and so, if your intent was really to reform us, why wouldn’t you call us, write us? Why don’t you ever visit? What is the reason for pressuring us, embarrassing us and denying us breathing space–particularly when, as a government, we are in the midst of the toughest period: post-war rehabilitation? (This is what TPLF is telling Tigrayans now, by the way, in 2023.)
And indeed, as Dawit Mesfin, one of the G-13 (another dot: he was also a founding member of the new-born awate.com) who met with Isaias Afwerki in November 2000 said in an interview, with yours truly, same guy who wrote TwgaHmo (another dot):
Q. Did the security people search you before you went in to meet him?
A. No. They didn’t even ask for an ID card. [Although]They had no way of knowing who we were. Someone showed us the room and we walked in and waited. I think being casual is the norm. Besides, I also realized that the president knew most of the group members personally.
Eritrea’s population is small, and its elite much smaller, so it was not a surprise that Isaias would know people who were former EPLF fighters or members of its mass organizations. But can you understand why the dots were too good not to be connected, specially if you are a politico-military organization, like PFDJ? From their perspective, publicly saying what you can say privately has no other reason other than to embarrass, attack and pressure. And, most likely, you were doing this under the direction and tutelage of Eritrea’s enemies.
3.The Pressure
I remember having a conversation about public pressure with the late Dr. Tekie Fessehazion, a member of the Constitutional Commission of Eritrea with whom I had clicked from the moment we met. How do people behave under pressure? It still reminds me about a line in one of Dan Connell’s books. It’s after EPLF’s “strategic retreat” and Dan Connell asks Isaias Afwerki how he copes with setbacks. He quotes Isaias as saying : “When I am challenged, I become more stubborn- more and more rigid. I’m very emotional.” Dr Tekie felt that all the G-13 and G-15 and “ንስኹምን; ግዝ ኣትኩምን” (“you, and your rule” meaning me and my alleged influence at dehai, asmarino, awate) would do is reverse every step towards liberalization PFDJ had taken and take us back to full totalitarianism. I thought it was absurd that calling for reform is more blameworthy than resisting reform. Besides, do we really want to put our hope for the future of Eritrea on the whims of one emotional man? We had a Constitution, that you helped draft, that we took an oath to defend. I refuse to believe that meant nothing.
Of course, it meant nothing. Specially to those who took an oath IN THE NAME OF OUR MARTYRS.
In January 2001, the PFDJ Political Office issued its “Discussion Paper” and held “seminars” which excluded the dissident members of the Central Council to identify potential supporters for arrest. That’s what PFDJ always calls “discussion” and “popular participation”: invite supporters, exclude opponents. For five months, each side attempted to recruit and to dissuade signatories to G-15 call’s for reform. The press was where the battles were fought, as it should be in a democratic, pluralistic, constitutional republic. “The Isaias Team is G-1,” we said at awate.com. “The G-15 Are Now Down To 3!” screamed the headline in Trgta, a newsletter of National Union of Eritrean Youth & Students (NUEYS) to dissuade anyone from adding their name to the G-15 call for a meeting. Of course, now, the Chairman and Vice Chairman of NUEYS are exiled, but I am getting ahead of myself.
The G-15 alternated between making their case to the people in the private press, and writing letters (individually) to President Isaias Afwerki.
In March 2001 alone, there were 3 exchanges just between Isaias Afwerki and his then-deputy Mahmud Ahmed (Sherifo.)
Sherifo: We demand a meeting.
Isaias: I only want to say that you all are making a mistake.
Sherifo: We still demand a meeting.
Isaias: I repeat, you are making a mistake.
Sherifo: We are not satisfied with your response of: “You are making a mistake.”
Isaias: I ask you to refrain from this mistaken path and come to your senses.
Mathematically, G-15 was making a mistake: they didn’t have the vote. During the Armed Struggle, the Central Committee had 37 members. But, six years earlier, at the retirement of EPLF and ascent of PFDJ (Nakfa, 1994), Isaias Afwerki had significantly watered down the voice of the individual Central Committee member by expanding its size to 75, and then appending another 75 fellow-travelers for a total of 150 to create the National Council (Parliament.) Sherifo’s vote had gone from 1/37 of the Chairman’s to 1/150. The institution itself–Central Council–far from being the deliberative, legislative body it was meant to be, was actually the rubber-stamper-of-proclamations-written at the President’s Office. But morally, G-15 was, at long last, doing the right thing. Besides, not all PFDJ Central Council members had same weight: some were more influential than others.
4. The Final List
The list had expanded as high as 19 but the final list of the G-15 signatories was as follows:
1. Adhanom Ghebremariam – Ambassador to Nigeria
2. Aster Fesehazion
3. Beraki Gebreselassie
4. Berhane Ghebrezgabiher
5. Estifanos Seyoum
6. Germano Nati
7. Hailed Menkorios – Ambassador to UN
8. Haile Woldetensae (“DeruE”)
9. Hamid Himid
10. Mahmoud Ahmed Sherifo
11. Mesfin Hagos
12. Mohammed Berhan Blata
13. Ogbe Abraha
14. Petros Solomon
15. Saleh Idris Kekya
In the history of post-independent Eritrea, the 15 above are a drop on the sea of The Disappeared. In fact, if you want to open your eyes to all the victims you never knew of, or don’t want to know about, there is a list of names and pictures–of the disappeared dating back to 1991– that Eri-Forum published here. What is different about G-15 is that at different forums–media, governmental organizations–the Eritrean government could not pretend they didn’t exist (they were public figures, including former foreign ministers) and was sometimes forced to account for them. And it is there that people could learn how easily and casually the government lies.
In one interview, Yemane Gebreab (PFDJ Political Director, Special Advisor to President) repeatedly claimed all of the G-15 were “senior military commanders” during the 98-00 war. In fact, 10 of the 15 were either never military commanders nor even in the country during the war. Their crime had nothing to do with calling for a meeting, he said, they are responsible for the death of 20,000 Eritreans. It is PFDJ Logic: they are simultaneously guilty of grave, unforgiveable crimes, they kept telling us, but all would have been forgiven if they had listened to Isaias and “come to their senses.” The government should be commended for detaining them instead of court martialing them, he said, about people who were given a life sentence, with everything designed to shorten their life, according to a former prison guard. And the journalists? Surely, they weren’t military commanders? “They are with them!” he said.
Ah, the famous “they are with them!” It is the answer to the question the interrogation department of the ruling party has been asking since the MenkaE days of the early 1970s! “ምስኦም ዲኻ?” (are you with them?) Speaking of MenkaE (the 1973 version of G-15): At least their case was studied by a committee, explained Mesfin Hagos (#11 in the list of G-15 above), now exiled, and co-author of his memoirs, which you can find here. Mesfin Hagos regrets they didn’t dismiss them from the Front instead of shooting them to death. In contrast to another dissident group, Yemeen of 1976, which was shot to death, without the due process of a committee, of which he knows nothing.
All this is what a Constitutional Republic was supposed to put an end to!
But an entirely different vision was chosen. One which gradually, step-by-step, centralizes more power in the Office of the President. After all, when the PFDJ Political Office issued its “Discussion Paper”, it had argued that the problem in Eritrea is NOT power centralization but too much power decentralization where people to whom power is entrusted (the ministries and departments) all speak of the government in the third person. Yes, it is a team, but the team has one Superstar and many role players. And in critical times (and it is always a critical time), pass the ball, pass the ball, pass the fucking ball to him! You chose the game, but the game chose Him. As for the then-oh-so-young journalists, including our poet laureates? “They are with them!”
5. Why September 18 Changed Eritrea Forever
This is all interesting but I haven’t gotten to the part why the arrest of 15 people, compared to the thousands before them, many of them allegedly at their hands, and the thousands after them, why the arrest of the 15 matters. Here’s how. Since at least 1987, the Eritrean trajectory, as set forth by the EPLF, was on the Road to Liberalism. “We don’t embrace political pluralism and elections to please you in the West, but because we consider it in our national interest to do so,” in the words of Comrade Secretary General Isaias Afwerki But who is to enforce it now? The G-15 were the last “power center.” They were the last ones who would occasionally say “Comrade Isaias, you are making a mistake!” The other traditional power centers–the religious and cultural leaders–were long gone. The Diaspora PFDJ is just a conduit for executing top-down orders. There is no legislative body, and the judiciary is far from independent. Those to whom power is delegated never ask “how do the people want this done?” but “How does Isaias want this done?” With G-15 gone, the path to G-1 was cleared. Nobody raises an eyebrow when he tells people, on TV, that there is not going to be an alternative to PFDJ in Planet Earth’s version of Eritrea, although you are welcome to look for its alternative in the moon.
For the totalitarianism to take shape, an ever-increasing number of people who remembered they had promised the people popular sovereignty were arrested, exiled, and disappeared. Of the aforementioned 75 members of the Central Council, more than a quarter were changed to “unpersons”, including some who were loud critics of the G-15. This has to be a world record:
1. Abdella Jaber
2. Adhanom Ghebremariam
3. Ahmed Haj Ali
4. Alamin Sheikh Saleh
5. Andeberhan Wolde Giorgis
6. Aster Fissehazion
7. Beraki Gebreselasse
8. Berhane Abrehe
9. Berhane Gebre Ezghiabheir
10. Ermias Debessay
11. Germano Nati
12. Haile Menkerios
13. Haile “Derue” Weldetensae
14. Hamid Hmid
15. Mahmud Ahmed “Sherifo”
16. Mesfin Hagos
17. Mahmud Omaro
18 Mohammed Berhan Blatta
19. Muhyedin Shengeb
20. Mustafa Nurhussein
21. Naizghi Kiflu
22. Oqbe Abraha
23. Omar Hassen “Teweel”
24. Petros Solomon
25. Saleh Idris Kekiya
26. Stefanos Seyoum
If you can see that more than 25% of a single institution (Central Council) were imprisoned, exiled and disappeared, isn’t it reasonable to assume this rate of disappearance was similar at every institution? It is. This is why the exile-per-capita is also a world record: UNHCR says the number of Eritreans who have asked for refuge or political asylum in other countries is 587,301 people. This includes the families of the same Eritreans who claim the number is exaggerated or the US/UNHCR is to blame.
Now, PFDJ looks back at its years of liberalization (1991-1997) as a misguided period from which it learned great lessons. The lessons apparently include the following. Its better to have no party congress, no constitution, elections, parliament, judiciary, private press than to give the USA a crack to get in. USA (the country) is the only recognized opposition party in Eritrea, judging by the ruling party’s obsession with it. PFDJ is a party in regression, going back to its 1970’s roots: Instead of constitutional justice, revolutionary justice; instead of due process, revolutionary guard; instead of transparency, secret parties; Instead of peace, eternal wars. As it becomes more radicalized, less like a constitutional republic and more like radical movement, it is radicalizing the opposition as well.
My exiled generation’s opposition can best be described as equivocal. We want change, but should it be restricted to peaceful or should we also say by any means? (Split!) Do we have an alliance with Weyane or are they also our enemy? (Split!) Is PFDJ our opponent or our enemy? (Split!) Should we call to reform it, or uproot it? (Split!) What do you mean by PFDJ: it is, itself a victim, so can we focus our attention more narrowly? Should we bring this flag or that flag? (Split!) Should we demand fealty to the 1997 constitution or forget it as the work of PFDJ? (Split!) The boldest call by us civilians was–not counting those who actually went to the field to shoot–was to boycott PFDJ festivals (Starve The Beast! We intoned.)
The radicalized opposition has no such questions. Everything is clear: who is friend, who is foe: and there is no room for nuance. Don’t boycott festivals, shut them down! There are no taboos, nor the moderating pull of nationalism which, to them, was how every atrocity they endured was wrapped in. The educated invite only caution, said one of their leaders, and not in a complimentary way. They just are not needed now, he said.
I half-expected the PFDJ to call the new movement ኣዕናዊ ምንቅስቓስ ዕስራን ሰለስተን (Destructive Movement of 23, a redo of the Destructive Movement of 73 (MenkaE) because its operating manual hasn’t changed since the 1970s. But that would acknowledge them as Eritreans. Having raised an entire generation of Eritreans in a laboratory of sadism, the supporters of the Most Violent government in the world, Eritrea’s, are shocked that their victims have opted for violence. PFDJ has pitched a tent and who wants to hear bad news at a Revival Tent? Every critic is told ቴንዳኹም ተኺልኮም ኣእውዪ: pitch your own tent to cry; don’t come to my All Night Long Party and ruin my vibe. “You are either with us, or against us,” is the Eritrean theme.
6. Regression
Eritrea’s struggle for independence could only have started in the 1960s (the whole world was going through Power-to-the-People revolution) and it could only have succeeded in 1991 (when one side decisively won the Cold War, and the defeated could no longer afford to subsidize Ethiopia.) What we do with our independence is up to us, and so far, we have not been good custodians of the ultimate goal is: popular sovereignty. That’s what the arrest of G-15 prolonged.
In an alternative world the G-15 proposed, Eritrea would have had a constitution (with probably 10 amendments since then) and 5 elections–with each year the super dominant power of PFDJ reducing to perhaps high 60s, and 4 smaller parties all vetted using sane party formation rules. We would have had increasingly more independent legislatures and judiciary. There would be a clear power succession plan. And our population in Eritrea–free of militarization and exile– would have been at least double what it is.
That’s how 9/18 changed Eritrea forever: at least 22 years of Eritrea’s short independent life has been in regression. We are regressing back past the early 1990s when disabled veterans were shot and killed; past the time demonstrating combatants were disappeared; way back to the field to the late 1970s when Eritrean students in North America were disappeared for asking questions of the Front, back to the mid 1970s when Yemeen were vaporized, back to the early 1970s when MenkaE were sentenced to death.
“For the country to survive, the Front must survive” is a sequel to “For the Revolution to survive, the Front must survive.” The people? It’s all for the people! Victory to the people: bad luck and bad timing to these people. Based on the disappearance and exile rate, the “these people” are becoming half the people but, above all, the Front (or, in the case of our opposition, the Movement) must survive! Even if the country is full of people heart-broken by disappeared family members, and young people wasting their lives in forever-trenches fighting and dying for wars that are always the last wars: the Front must survive for the Country to survive.
