Rebirth, fear on ruined Ethiopia-Eritrea frontier

By C. Bryson Hull

ZALAMBESSA, Ethiopia (Reuters) – It’s hard to tell which
stones are the rubble of war and which are the ingredients of
reconstruction in the frontier town of Zalambessa.

In 1998, Eritrea’s soldiers invaded and destroyed this town
on the disputed border with Ethiopia at the start of a two-year
war in which 70,000 people were killed.

Now, six years after a peace pact, Zalambessa’s 12,000
people are rebuilding, stone by stone. But the hope that drives
them is tainted by fear of another war and memories of pain.

“We have to survive with what we have now, and we are
feeling the threat of war,” businessman Hailu Zerafa, 70, said.

When he came back two years ago, his grinding mill, grain
store and bar had been destroyed and all the hardware had been
carted to Eritrea. His wife had returned from an Eritrean jail
but, weakened by sickness, she died months later. “The
Eritreans took all of my property, including my wife. They
didn’t even leave a nail. Now I have nothing — zero and zero,”
he said.

Hailu, and people like him, are now rebuilding their homes
and businesses, in the shadow of a military standoff playing
out just yards from the town’s main street.

Separated by a dusty bowl less than 1.2 miles wide,
Ethiopian soldiers at the edge of Zalambessa stare warily
across at their Eritrean enemies. These men are at the sharp
end of one of the Horn of Africa’s most intractable political
conflicts.

Even though both countries signed a deal in 2000 to end the
war and accept an independent commission’s decision on where
the border should be, the invisible line remains just that –
unseen, unmarked and unresolved.

‘BEST OF FRIENDS’

For the people of Zalambessa, the border should exist in
the mind only. It is nothing neighbors, relatives and trading
partners need to map out with soldiers and fences.

“Eritrea was the best of friends before … The people of
the two countries know their borders. Why should a foreigner
come and tell us where our border is?” hotel owner Hadas
Teklemaimanot said.

When the boundary commission issued a final, binding ruling
in 2002 that favored Eritrea’s claims, Ethiopia balked.

Prime Minister Meles Zenawi has since said Ethiopia accepts
the ruling but wants to negotiate with Eritrea on the mechanics
of marking a border that will change some people’s nationality.

For a model, Meles points to an analogous situation between
Nigeria and Cameroon, where demarcation has begun amid
discussions, even though Nigeria did not like the decision.

Eritrea says a deal is a deal and is angry that world
powers have not forced Ethiopia’s hand. The standoff has grown
worse over the past year, as rhetoric flowed and troops were
moved closer to the border, but then withdrawn.

For Zalambessa, war would undo more than a year of
rebuilding and scupper hopes of a rebirth of the trade that
once flourished on the twisting road to Eritrea’s capital
Asmara.

‘DO YOU SEE ANYBODY?’

Zalambessa lies 7,900 feet up in the otherworldly grandeur
of the northern arid highlands, a land of plunging valleys and
thrusting peaks hued in khaki and soft red.

Cacti and bits of scrub are the only dabs of green under an
expansive sky. The mountain cool belies the strength of the sun
which may have led ancient Greeks to dub the country “Land of
Burned Faces,” giving rise to the name Ethiopia.

Entering Zalambessa, the main road becomes a boulevard —
the first sign of renewal among piles of rubble and walls
shattered by artillery shells and Eritrean bulldozers.

Red and pink flowers adorn the concrete island bisecting
the street. The blooms are ringed with barbed wire to stop cows
and people from trampling the town’s brightest flash of color.

Hadas’ hotel, which once drew passing traders, is typical
of the rebuilding — its new facade is mated to the ruins of
its old walls by a smear of smoothed concrete.

Inside, there are a dozen chairs, four tables, seven
bottles of liquor and a faded poster of an Indian film. The
60-year-old owner apologizes profusely because she cannot offer
food.

“Do you think this is a place of business? Do you see
anybody?” she said, sweeping her arm around the room.

Buying power is gone. All the seed money for reconstruction
provided by the World Bank — 54 million birr ($6.21 million)
in all — went into bringing Zalambessa back up to par.

Without cross-border trade, there will be little chance for
the economies of Zalambessa or its sister city of Senafe, 22
miles into Eritrea.

“If the border is open, Zalambessa would be back to its
normal position,” Hailu said.

Right now, that position is a defensive one.

The hill the Ethiopian troops command, which was used as an
artillery position by the Eritreans as they demolished the
town, sits above dozens of new homes with shiny tin roofs.

Army Major Mebratu Hailu said he hopes his troops will not
have to fire a single bullet and that talks will take place.

But if Eritrea attacks, Ethiopia will not be caught by
surprise again, said the infantry commander who fought in the
2000 counterattack that routed the Eritreans from Zalambessa.

“The next war will be final. This is Meles’ position. There
will be no third war with Eritrea. The only option is to settle
the border problem through dialogue,” he said, looking across
the gully, beyond the invisible line.