Addis Ababa, October 27, 2026 (FMC) — Assab Port was once a bustling gateway connecting Ethiopia’s vast hinterland to the Red Sea, a city of port operations, maritime transport, banks, transit businesses and industrial activity.
Its oil refinery provided jobs, while its commercial opportunities drew Ethiopians from across the country, many of whom built businesses, acquired property and made the coastal city a second home.
Today, former Assab deputy mayor Daniel Liben describes a city stripped of much of its former vitality—a stark reminder of the human and economic cost of the political rupture that severed its historic connection with Ethiopia.
Liben’s recollections reveal what statistics alone cannot capture: the disappearance of a thriving economic ecosystem and the upheaval of lives built around it. Ethiopians who invested their labour, wealth and hopes in Assab faced displacement and hardship; some, he says, were left with uncertain whereabouts.
The port’s decline was not simply a local setback. It marked the breakdown of a commercial relationship that had connected Ethiopia’s interior to maritime trade, industry and regional markets.
The rupture following the political changes of 1991 transformed that relationship. Ethiopia lost direct access to its historic Red Sea gateway and increasingly depended on Djibouti for its maritime trade.
Assab, meanwhile, became emblematic of a severed economic connection. The city’s fate raises an uncomfortable question: how did a coastline with such strategic potential become the setting for both a profound loss to Ethiopia and an unfulfilled promise for Eritrea?
The answer brings the broken dream of making Eritrea “Africa’s Singapore” into sharp focus. Eritrea’s Red Sea position, with ports such as Assab and Massawa, offered opportunities for trade, logistics and industrial development. Yet the grand ambition has not translated into the prosperity that its promise suggested.
Assab’s diminished commercial role stands in stark contrast to the vision of a thriving maritime economy. Geography created the opportunity; political choices shaped the outcome.
For Ethiopia, the consequences reach far beyond nostalgia for a once-busy port. A large, landlocked country must secure reliable and economically viable access to international maritime routes. Such access affects transport costs, trade competitiveness, industrial investment and national security.
Liben’s argument is that the Red Sea question is not a passing political demand or a matter of emotion: it concerns Ethiopia’s long-term economic future and the security of generations to come.
The political responsibility for this rupture remains central to the commentary’s indictment of the illegal TPLF group. Its cooperation with external adversaries is presented as part of a wider conspiracy that helped strip Ethiopia of its historic Red Sea coastline.
The charge is one of strategic betrayal: that political choices made in concert with interests beyond Ethiopia’s own long-term needs contributed to a loss whose consequences endure. This is the commentary’s political interpretation of the events, and it underscores why the decisions surrounding the separation remain a matter of national debate.
Liben places the issue in a much deeper historical frame, invoking the Aksumite civilization, Emperor Yohannes and Ras Alula Aba Nega as reminders of Ethiopia’s longstanding relationship with the Red Sea and its northern approaches.
Ancient commerce and later struggles over the region belong to distinct historical periods, but together they help explain why maritime access has remained a persistent concern in Ethiopian strategic thinking.
The country’s connection to the sea did not begin with contemporary politics, and the economic need for dependable maritime routes will not disappear with the passage of time.
History, however, must lead to a strategy rather than remain a grievance. Ethiopia’s maritime interests must be pursued through viable arrangements grounded in international law, durable regional engagement and a clear understanding of mutual economic benefit.
Access to the sea is not merely a symbol of sovereignty; it is an economic lifeline whose value depends on functioning ports, transport corridors, investment and trade.
Assab’s story brings these realities together. Its former prosperity, the hardship experienced by displaced Ethiopians, Eritrea’s unfulfilled “Africa’s Singapore” promise and the enduring consequences of Ethiopia’s loss all point to the cost of a broken regional connection.
The past cannot simply be restored, but neither can its lessons be dismissed.
Assab is the warning; the failed Singapore dream is the contradiction; and Ethiopia’s search for reliable Red Sea access remains a defining strategic challenge for generations to come.