By Dr. Tomas Solomon
In his recent article, “Looking Beyond Isaias: Complexities of the Make-up of the Eritrean Population, Past and Present – A Help or Hindrance?”, Martin Plaut offers a valuable and timely reflection on Eritrea’s political future. One of the propositions he puts forward is that the Eritrean military, composed of diverse communities and united by shared experience, could play a stabilizing role in the post-Isaias era. While this may seem plausible on the surface, I believe it is both unrealistic and deeply risky to rely on the military as a force for national unity and democratic transition.

To place our hopes in the same military apparatus that has long upheld tyranny is not only unrealistic, it risks repeating the very cycles of repression we seek to escape.
Eritrea’s recent history is a cautionary tale of what happens when militarism becomes the defining feature of governance. Under the PFDJ regime, the military has been hollowed out institutionally and exploited as a mechanism of repression, forced conscription, social control, and incharge of more than 360 prisons. This has left many Eritreans with little faith in the military as an agent of positive change.
Moreover, the army is far from being a neutral or independent institution. It is tightly controlled by Isaias and the PFDJ, lacking both the autonomy and national vision necessary to lead a transition. In the event of regime collapse or leadership change, the military could easily fragment, leading to internal conflict or power struggles, particularly if historical, regional, or ethnic loyalties resurface.
Equally troubling is the generational trauma inflicted by indefinite national service. Thousands of young Eritreans have fled the country to escape it, and many of those who remain are disillusioned and psychologically scarred. These are not the conditions under which a reliable or visionary military leadership can emerge.
History teaches us that militaries seldom pave the way for democracy. In many post-authoritarian states, hopes placed in the army have backfired resulting in either civil war or the entrenchment of new authoritarian rulers dressed in military uniforms.
Rather than waiting for an improbable military-led transformation, the more sustainable and promising path forward lies with Eritrea’s civilian movements, particularly those based in the diaspora. The Eritrean justice-seeking community has demonstrated persistence, moral clarity, goodwill toward regional collaboration, and a commitment to democratic principles. Though fragmented at times, as Martin Plaut rightly notes, these divisions are often exacerbated by the regime’s covert efforts to divide and weaken opposition abroad.
Nevertheless, the diaspora remains uniquely positioned to lead the charge. It has access to global platforms, legal protections, resources, and the freedom to organize, debate, and mobilize. It is within this space that Eritreans have the best chance to forge a united, civilian-led movement rooted in democratic values and inclusive dialogue.
To place our hopes in the same military apparatus that has long upheld tyranny is not only unrealistic, it risks repeating the very cycles of repression we seek to escape.
The road ahead will be difficult, but only a people-powered movement can deliver a just and lasting peace in Eritrea.