Berhanu Jula’s “Door to the Sea”: Ethiopia’s Dangerous Game With History

It was supposed to be a day of military pride — Ethiopia’s "118th National Defence Forces Day". Flags, parades, speeches about sacrifice.
Instead, Field Marshal Berhanu Jula - once held as a prisoner of war in Eritrea - used the occasion to do what Ethiopian generals have done too often in moments of political drift: reach for the map.

Speaking to troops and officials on October 25, Berhanu declared that Ethiopia “must have access to the sea,” arguing that it was “unfair” for a small nation of “two million people” — meaning Eritrea — to hold a coastline while Ethiopia, “soon to reach two hundred million,” is “locked out.” He said the current arrangement “is not consistent with international law,” and claimed Ethiopia’s goals are threefold: peace, development, and a door to the sea. Then he added, “For thirty years we were asleep… now we are awake.”

Two languages, two messages

In English, the same speech was reduced by the state media to a few safe sentences about “national resilience” and “heroes.” The Amharic broadcast, however, told a different story — a speech pulsing with entitlement and historical resentment.

This dual messaging isn’t new. It’s a deliberate playbook: reassure donors in English, rile up nationalism at home. One Ethiopia for the diplomats, another for the soldiers.

Berhanu’s choice of words — “thirty years we slept” — wasn’t random. Thirty years ago, in 1993, Eritrea became independent, after three decades of armed struggle, through a UN-observed referendum. Five years later, Ethiopia chose to walk away from peaceful port agreements because it could not accept Eritrea’s equal sovereignty. The record is there, line by line, in port contracts, customs protocols, and broken commitments.

Eritrea never closed its doors. Ethiopia slammed them shut.

Population arithmetic and the myth of entitlement

Berhanu’s argument — that Eritrea’s “two million” shouldn’t hold the coast while Ethiopia’s “two hundred million” are landlocked — is not only false in numbers, it’s morally bankrupt.
Sovereignty isn’t a population contest. No clause in the UN Charter, AU Constitutive Act, or Law of the Sea distributes coastlines by headcount. If that logic were accepted, every small coastal nation on the continent would be fair game for its larger neighbour.

Take Djibouti — a nation of less than a million people, sitting peacefully on the same Red Sea corridor. Ethiopia would never dare question its sovereignty, not because it suddenly respects small states, but because foreign military bases ring Djibouti’s coast. That double standard exposes the truth: Addis Ababa’s calculus isn’t moral, it’s opportunistic. Eritrea is targeted not for its size, but for its independence — because it stands alone, unguarded by foreign flags yet firmly anchored in its own sovereignty.

Thus, calling Eritrea’s lawful borders “unfair” turns international law on its head. Eritrea’s coast is not a prize. It’s a sovereign reality recognized by every global body since 1993 — the same law Ethiopia claims to have "helped" write and now pretends doesn’t exist.

Setting the record straight

Let’s be clear: Eritrea has never denied Ethiopia access to the sea.
Not once. The truth is documented in every serious account of the post-independence years — including our own report, “Ethiopia’s Costly Choice: How Political Arrogance Cut Addis Off From the Red Sea.”

What Addis Ababa wants today isn’t access — it’s ownership. When Berhanu compares populations and calls the current arrangement “unjust,” he’s not talking about trade. He’s talking about possession. The goal is to rewrite geography by argument, and if possible, by force.

Eritrea’s borders are final and internationally recognized. The ports of Massawa and Assab are not “shared resources” awaiting reallocation.
International law gives landlocked states the right to transit — not the right to annex.

If Ethiopia truly seeks prosperity, the path is simple: negotiate commercial corridors in good faith, as many landlocked nations do. If it seeks dominance, it will find itself alone — not only against Eritrea, but against the very principles that hold Africa’s peace together.

Call to the international community

Berhanu’s words were not a slip. They were a signal — one that should concern every institution charged with upholding African stability. When a state’s top general redefines international law on national television, it ceases to be “internal politics.”

The world must see this clearly: Eritrea’s position is anchored in law, Ethiopia’s claim is anchored in ambition.
This isn’t about logistics or trade routes; Ethiopia already moves nearly all its imports through Djibouti. It’s about revanchism — a quiet campaign to delegitimize Eritrea’s sovereignty through numbers, emotion, and repetition.

The African Union, United Nations, IGAD, and every regional partner should say so plainly:

• Eritrea’s borders are sacrosanct and non-negotiable.
• Population size does not confer territorial privilege.
• Any attempt to alter recognized borders by coercion violates the UN Charter and the AU’s founding doctrine.

Eritrea has never sought confrontation. It has built its survival on self-reliance, law, and respect for others. But peace cannot rest on silence when the language of war is being normalized.

Peace through truth

True peace in the Horn of Africa will never come from slogans about “doors to the sea.” It will come from honesty — the courage to admit that Ethiopia stole the Red Sea once and failed to keep it, it was simply justice restored.

Eritrea’s message remains consistent: coexistence, not conquest. Cooperation, not control.
And to every neighbour tempted to test those waters — remember: the Red Sea is wide enough for trade, but far too small for empire.