Eritrea Accuses the UAE of ‘Port Imperialism’—But Has Asmara Really Cut Diplomatic Ties?
Eritrea’s foreign minister has accused the UAE of using ports for strategic power and warned of alignment with Israel and Ethiopia. A formal break in relations is less clear.
Eritrea has opened one of the sharpest public attacks yet on the United Arab Emirates’ expanding network of African ports. Foreign Minister Osman Saleh accused Abu Dhabi of pursuing “port imperialism,” rejected foreign hubs on Eritrean territory and warned about cooperation among the UAE, Israel and Ethiopia.
Online accounts went one step further, declaring that Asmara had formally cut diplomatic relations with the UAE. That may eventually prove correct, but the publicly available evidence at publication time supports a more careful formulation: Eritrea has entered a severe political confrontation with Abu Dhabi; a complete diplomatic rupture has not yet been established by a clear, independently available official notice.
Saleh’s underlying accusation is documented. In an interview reported by Middle East Eye, he questioned whether the UAE’s widespread port facilities are purely commercial and said Eritrea did not want DP World managing its ports. A senior Eritrean official also said Asmara rejected a 2016 proposal for a shared UAE-Israel military facility on an island in the Dahlak Archipelago.
The history makes the dispute more than rhetoric. The UAE established a military presence at Assab in 2015–2016 and used the southern Eritrean port to support the Saudi-led war in Yemen. Satellite imagery documented an airbase, harbor activity and military infrastructure. Abu Dhabi later dismantled much of the base, with the drawdown visible by 2021.
Eritrea’s government now presents that episode as a warning about allowing an outside power to convert access into durable leverage. UAE port companies have operations or interests across the Red Sea, Gulf of Aden and Indian Ocean. DP World and AD Ports describe these investments as commercial infrastructure that improves trade. Critics see a network where ports, military access, political partnerships and security contracts reinforce one another.
Ethiopia adds another layer. Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed has repeatedly described sea access as strategically essential for his landlocked country. Eritrea interprets pressure for a Red Sea outlet through the lens of its long war with Ethiopia and the fragile peace that followed. The UAE’s close security and investment relationships with Addis Ababa therefore look threatening from Asmara, even when Emirati officials present them as economic cooperation.
Israel’s role is more contested. Israel has strategic interests in Red Sea navigation, intelligence and relations with Ethiopia. Eritrean officials allege a three-way alignment, but alignment is not the same as a publicly documented joint plan to colonize ports. The strongest available evidence is Eritrea’s account of a rejected base proposal, not proof that the three governments have agreed to partition African maritime infrastructure.
The language of “colonization” also deserves examination. Long concessions can give foreign operators enormous influence without transferring sovereignty. Host governments sign these agreements and may obtain investment, jobs and logistics capacity. Problems arise when contracts are secret, political elites receive disproportionate benefits or commercial facilities become military platforms without transparent consent.
Eritrea itself is not a neutral champion of openness. It is one of the world’s most closed political systems, with no national elections and severe restrictions on independent media. Its claims are difficult to test inside the country. Opposition to Emirati power can reflect legitimate sovereignty concerns while also serving the government’s need to mobilize against external enemies.
Abu Dhabi’s perspective is equally important. Emirati port companies say they assume commercial risk, expand container capacity and connect African producers to world markets. Governments struggling to finance infrastructure may prefer long concessions to leaving ports undeveloped. The central question is not whether foreign capital is inherently colonial, but whether host countries preserve regulatory authority, disclose contracts and prevent security arrangements from being hidden inside commercial deals.
Asmara has praised states that resisted or cancelled Emirati port arrangements, including Sudan, Algeria and Djibouti. Djibouti terminated DP World’s Doraleh concession in 2018, triggering long international legal disputes. Sudan cancelled a large UAE-linked Red Sea port arrangement amid its war. Each case has distinct contracts and politics; together they show growing resistance to Gulf competition for strategic coastline.
Whether Eritrea formally cuts ties will matter less than whether embassies close, diplomats leave, flights or trade are restricted and military contacts end. Diplomatic relations can survive hostile speeches, while practical cooperation can disappear without a dramatic announcement.
What to watch next
Will Eritrea publish a decree or diplomatic note confirming a formal rupture? How will the UAE answer the port-imperialism accusation? Does Ethiopia’s search for sea access move toward negotiation or coercion? And can African governments attract port investment without allowing commercial dependency to become strategic control?