The Tragedy of Suspended Citizenship: Liberation, Legitimacy, and the Crisis of Governance in Eritrea

The Tragedy of Suspended Citizenship: Liberation, Legitimacy, and the Crisis of Governance in Eritrea

By Semere Solomon

April 11, 2026

Introduction: Liberation Movements and the Challenge of Democratic Transition

Liberation movements are typically driven by two overarching objectives: to free their societies from foreign domination or oppressive rule, and to establish a political order grounded in justice and dignity. Yet history reveals a persistent paradox. Many movements that succeed in achieving independence struggle to transition into accountable systems of governance. In place of liberation, new forms of repression often emerge.

The Eritrean experience reflects elements of this broader pattern, while retaining its own distinct trajectory. Movements that assume power after prolonged struggle frequently shift from transformative politics to what may be described as palace politics—a mode of governance characterized by the concentration of power and the erosion of institutional accountability. This shift often manifests through several recurring dynamics: state capture, the fusion of party and state, constitutional subversion, and a growing disconnect between the liberation generation and younger citizens.

These patterns, however, are not inevitable. Eritrea gained independence with the historical advantage of observing similar post-liberation trajectories elsewhere. Avoiding such outcomes would have required political foresight, institutional commitment, and a leadership oriented toward long-term governance rather than wartime legitimacy. The failure to make this transition lies at the heart of Eritrea’s current crisis.

From Liberation Legitimacy to Institutional Failure

The political authority that governs Eritrea today emerged from a liberation struggle that demanded extraordinary sacrifice and commanded widespread legitimacy. That legitimacy—both moral and political—was rooted in collective mobilization and the promise of a just and accountable state.

However, this wartime legitimacy was never translated into durable institutions of governance. Instead, it has remained suspended in time, invoked repeatedly to justify the continued concentration of power. The result is what may be understood as a condition of frozen legitimacy: a system that derives authority from its past achievements while failing to renew its mandate through law, participation, or accountability.

This raises fundamental questions. Why has constitutional governance been indefinitely deferred? Why are elections treated as unnecessary or even destabilizing? Why is dissent framed as betrayal rather than recognized as an essential component of political life?

In the absence of institutional renewal, historical memory has become the primary source of legitimacy. Yet memory alone cannot sustain a state. Without mechanisms for accountability, even the most just struggle risks being undermined by the structures it leaves behind.

Strategies of Political Preservation

A central feature of Eritrea’s post-independence trajectory has been the systematic postponement of constitutional governance. Although a constitution was ratified in 1997 following a participatory process (albeit not perfect), it has never been implemented. Instead, its suspension has been justified by reference to an unresolved conflict with its neighbor, Ethiopia, and, as such, a persistent state of emergency.

This indefinite deferral has had far-reaching consequences. It has prevented the emergence of an independent judiciary, curtailed fundamental freedoms, and weakened the development of functional state institutions. Rather than serving as a binding national covenant, the constitution has been rendered symbolic—its absence reinforcing a system governed by executive authority rather than law.

Alongside constitutional suspension, the state has relied on a set of reinforcing narratives: that political reform would invite instability, that centralized control is necessary for national survival, and that external threats justify internal restriction. At the other extreme, some observers dismiss Eritrea as irreparably failed.

Both perspectives obscure a more constructive reality. Eritrea is neither inherently destined for authoritarianism nor beyond recovery. It remains a society with the capacity for renewal—provided that the legitimacy of the liberation struggle is translated into accountable and inclusive institutions.

The Tragedy of Suspended Citizenship

Perhaps the most defining feature of Eritrea’s political condition is what may be termed suspended citizenship. Under a system characterized by permanent emergency, the relationship between citizen and state has been fundamentally altered. Rights are undefined or unenforced, while obligations—particularly in the form of national service—are open-ended.

In practice, this has led to the erosion of civilian life. Time itself becomes suspended, as generations remain locked in cycles of indefinite service and constrained opportunity. Civic space has largely disappeared, replaced by a system in which citizens are treated primarily as instruments of mobilization.

This condition is not incidental; it reflects a broader logic of governance. The normalization of the state of emergency allows for the continuous postponement of political transition, while sustaining a framework in which accountability is deferred indefinitely. Yet such a system is inherently unsustainable. No society can endure indefinitely in a state of suspended normalcy without incurring profound social, economic, and political costs.

Post-Independence Governance: Structure and Consequences

Eritrea’s post-independence governance can be understood through several defining characteristics:

• Absence of constitutional rule and elections. Despite the ratification of a constitution, Eritrea has not held national elections, and executive authority remains unconstrained by institutional checks and balances.

• Fusion of party and state. The boundary between the ruling political party and public institutions has effectively disappeared, undermining accountability and reducing the state to an extension of a single political entity.

  Institutional paralysis. Key institutions, including the national assembly, have ceased to function meaningfully, while the absence of an independent judiciary has eliminated avenues for legal redress.

• Securitization of political life. Governance is framed primarily through the lens of national security. The perception of perpetual threat has normalized continuous mobilization and justified the restriction of civilian freedoms.

• War as a governing logic. A sustained war footing reinforces internal cohesion within the ruling elite while suppressing demands for reform. Peace, by contrast, would likely generate pressures for demobilization and accountability—developments perceived as destabilizing to the current system.

• Systematic repression of dissent. Political opposition, independent media, and civil society have been effectively eliminated. High-profile detentions and enforced disappearances underscore the extent to which dissent is criminalized.

• Indefinite national service. Initially conceived as a limited program, national service has evolved into an open-ended system that shapes the lives of much of the population. This has become a major driver of emigration, particularly among the youth.

• Economic control and constrained development. The economy remains heavily state-dominated, limiting private sector growth and contributing to persistently low living standards. Economic restriction, whether intentional or systemic, reinforces political control by constraining independent sources of power.

• Regional posture. Eritrea’s external engagements reflect a combination of strategic intervention and selective isolation. While these actions are often framed in terms of national security, they also intersect with the regime’s internal logic of control and survival.

Taken together, these features describe a system oriented toward preservation rather than transformation—one in which the structures of governance serve to maintain authority rather than expand opportunity.

Conclusion: Renewal as a Generational Imperative

Eritrea’s post-independence trajectory illustrates the unfinished nature of its liberation project. The sacrifices that secured independence have not yet been matched by the establishment of accountable governance or inclusive institutions. This gap between promise and reality defines the country’s current predicament.

Yet this condition is not irreversible. The possibility of renewal remains—grounded in the recognition that legitimacy must be continuously earned, not indefinitely inherited. Such renewal must be internally driven, rooted in a commitment to constitutional governance, the rule of law, and the restoration of citizenship as the foundation of the state.

This is ultimately a question of generational responsibility. Governments are transient, but societies endure only through deliberate care and renewal. The challenge facing Eritreans today is not merely political; it is existential. It concerns the kind of nation that will be passed on to future generations.

Thirty-six years is a long time in the span of a human life, but a brief chapter in the life of a people. Whether it becomes a foundation for renewal or a cautionary tale depends on the choices made now. The task ahead is clear: to transform the legacy of liberation into a living system of justice, accountability, and shared national purpose—before it recedes into history as a promise unfulfilled. And the future generation will pay the price.