When people believe fabricated visuals are real, it fuels genuine anger
In the digital space between Ethiopia and Eritrea, a new kind of war is being rehearsed — one fought not with weapons but with fabricated images of tanks, surrenders, and territorial conquest. Young creators armed with free AI tools are manufacturing vivid falsehoods that millions consume as truth, in nations where the wounds of a war that killed 600,000 people have barely begun to heal. History has long known that the stories a people tell themselves about their enemies can become the permission they need to act — and what is new here is only the speed and convincing texture of the lie.
- A 24-year-old with 87,000 followers is producing AI-fabricated military scenarios depicting Ethiopian forces seizing Eritrean territory, and his content is spreading faster than any correction can follow.
- Eritrean-aligned creators are responding in kind, generating counter-propaganda of Ethiopian defeats, locking both audiences into an escalating cycle of manufactured outrage.
- With Ethiopia ranked 112th out of 149 nations in digital literacy, vast numbers of viewers have no framework to recognize fabrication — they believe the tanks are real, the surrenders happened, the war is already beginning.
- Experts warn that AI war content uniquely distorts public perception by making military conflict appear swift, clean, and victorious — eroding the psychological resistance to actual escalation.
- Troops have been reported massing along the Ethiopia-Eritrea border, and political rhetoric has hardened, raising the stakes of a propaganda environment already running beyond anyone's control.
Eliyas Kebede Zemedkun, a 24-year-old law graduate, has spent much of 2026 using free AI platforms to generate images and videos depicting Ethiopian forces seizing Assab, Eritrea's Red Sea port. With over 87,000 Facebook followers, he frames the work as defending Ethiopia's national interests — countering what he sees as demoralizing narratives about his country's military. His fabrications include tanks rolling into Eritrean cities and a video of Ethiopia's army chief chasing President Isaias Afwerki across a dusty road.
The content spread rapidly, and Eritrean-aligned creators responded with their own AI productions — Ethiopian troops surrendering, Ethiopian ships sinking. Each inflammatory image provoked another, each more hostile than the last. Beneath the videos, comment sections filled with explicit threats and calls for conquest.
What makes this cycle especially dangerous is the audience consuming it. Ethiopia ranks 112th out of 149 countries on the World Economic Forum's Digital Skills Index. Many viewers cannot distinguish fabricated footage from documentary evidence, and their emotional responses are immediate and genuine. This is not an abstract information war — it lands in communities already traumatized by the 2020-2022 Tigray conflict, which killed more than 600,000 people and involved both nations.
The historical backdrop sharpens every image. Eritrea won independence from Ethiopia in 1993, leaving Ethiopia landlocked. A 2018 peace agreement briefly warmed relations, but since the Tigray war ended, ties have collapsed. Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed has declared Red Sea access an "irreversible" national claim, and border troop movements have been reported.
Experts studying the phenomenon warn that AI-generated war content portrays conflict as swift and cost-free, shifting political discourse toward confrontation. Researchers note that similar dynamics fueled the Tigray war, but AI has now "turbo-charged" the effect. Even Eliyas himself acknowledges that AI "obscures reality" and "normalises aggression" — yet expresses no regret, insisting he is only countering what the other side started. That belief, mirrored on both sides of the border, is precisely what keeps the machinery running.
A 24-year-old law graduate named Eliyas Kebede Zemedkun has spent much of 2026 manufacturing artificial intelligence images and videos that depict Ethiopian forces seizing Assab, Eritrea's strategic port on the Red Sea. With more than 87,000 Facebook followers, Eliyas uses free platforms like Gemini and ChatGPT, along with editing software, to produce this material. He frames his work as defending Ethiopia's national interests—specifically the country's long-standing desire for Red Sea access—and says he is countering what he sees as demoralizing narratives about the Ethiopian military.
In February and March, Eliyas released several pieces of fabricated content: images of Ethiopian tanks rolling into Assab amid cheering crowds, a video of Ethiopia's army chief chasing Eritrean President Isaias Afwerki across a dusty road. These clips spread rapidly among pro-Ethiopian accounts online. One comment beneath the video read: "Chase out this terrorist. Not only Assab; we will also regain the entire Eritrea." Eritrean-aligned users responded with their own AI creations—videos showing Ethiopian troops surrendering, Ethiopian ships sinking in the Red Sea. The cycle fed itself: each inflammatory image provoked another, each more hostile than the last.
What makes this digital arms race particularly dangerous is the audience consuming it. Ethiopia ranks 112th out of 149 countries on the World Economic Forum's Digital Skills Index. Eritrea, one of the world's most isolated nations, does not appear in such rankings at all. Many viewers cannot distinguish fabricated video from documentary evidence. They believe the tanks are real. They believe the surrenders happened. The emotional response is immediate and raw.
The historical weight behind these images cannot be separated from their impact. Eritrea won independence from Ethiopia in 1993, leaving Ethiopia landlocked. The two countries signed a peace agreement in 2018 and fought together during the 2020-2022 Tigray war, a conflict that killed more than 600,000 people. But since that war ended in November 2022, relations have collapsed. In October 2023, Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed declared that access to the Red Sea is an "irreversible" claim for his country. Troops have been reported massing along their shared border. The wounds from decades of conflict run deep, and the fabricated imagery finds fertile ground in populations already traumatized by war.
Experts studying this phenomenon warn that AI-generated war content does something insidious: it portrays military conflict as swift, clean, and cost-free. Workineh Diribsa, a journalism lecturer at Jimma University in Ethiopia, told researchers that these videos "dramatise war as a quick and effortless victory, constructing a false reality that risks steering opinion and political discourse toward confrontation rather than resolution." Kjetil Tronvoll, a regional expert at Oslo New University College, noted that similar online clashes fueled tensions during the Tigray war, but AI has now "turbo-charged" the effect. "When people believe fabricated visuals are real, it fuels genuine anger, fear, and animosity," he said.
The content extends beyond wholly invented scenarios. Authentic photographs have been digitally altered. A 2018 image of Abiy and Isaias during their period of cooperation was animated to show the two men fighting. Amanuel Meseret, a certified AI specialist, acknowledged that while such videos rarely reflect reality, "the emotional reaction is very strong due to their provocative nature and limited media literacy of the viewers."
Even Eliyas, the creator at the center of this phenomenon, admits that AI "obscures reality" and "normalises aggression." Yet he expresses no regret. "I am countering the digital warfare waged against Ethiopia," he said. His framing reveals the trap: each side believes it is defending itself, each side believes the other fired first, and the machinery of fabrication accelerates. The comment sections beneath these posts have become spaces of explicit threat and violent imagery. "You will sink deep into the sea. We will no longer remain landlocked," one Ethiopian user wrote. "Eritreans, you better surrender before time ends," another added.
Terje Skjerdal, a journalism professor at Norwegian NLA University College who studies Ethiopian media, drew a parallel to Russian propaganda during the Ukraine war. "These AI-generated contents seek to please the propagandist," he said. "The purpose is twofold: to cause anxiety within the enemy and to garner support among its own population." The machinery is now running. The question is whether it will remain confined to screens, or whether the fabricated narratives will shape real decisions made by real governments with real armies.
Notable Quotes
These videos dramatise war as a quick and effortless victory, constructing a false reality that risks steering opinion and political discourse toward confrontation rather than resolution.— Workineh Diribsa, journalism lecturer at Jimma University
When people believe fabricated visuals are real, it fuels genuine anger, fear, and animosity.— Kjetil Tronvoll, regional expert at Oslo New University College
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does a 24-year-old law graduate have such reach with this content? What makes him credible to 87,000 people?
He's not credible because he's an expert. He's credible because he's speaking to a desire—the desire to see Ethiopia strong, to see it reclaim what was lost when Eritrea separated. He's packaging that desire in a form that feels immediate and visual. In a country where most people can't easily verify what they're seeing online, a confident voice with slick production can feel like truth.
But he admits the AI obscures reality. He knows what he's doing is false. Why would he continue?
Because he's framed it as defense. In his mind, Eritrea is doing the same thing—creating propaganda, spreading lies about Ethiopia. So his fabrications aren't lies; they're counter-lies. They're ammunition in a war that's already happening, just not with bullets yet.
The Tigray war killed 600,000 people. Are these AI videos actually dangerous, or are they just noise?
They're dangerous precisely because they're not noise. They're shaping how millions of people think about their neighbor. They're making war seem inevitable, even desirable. When a video shows your army victorious and cost-free, when it shows the enemy humiliated, it changes what people think is possible. It changes what they think is acceptable.
The comment sections show people issuing threats. Are those real threats, or just online posturing?
That's the wrong question. The distinction between online and offline has collapsed. These aren't separate worlds. A person who spends hours consuming fabricated images of their enemy surrendering, who reads hundreds of comments calling for conquest—that person's worldview has shifted. Their anger is real. Whether they personally pick up a weapon is almost beside the point.
What would it take to stop this?
You'd need digital literacy programs, which Ethiopia is trying to build but which take years. You'd need platforms to moderate content, which they don't do well. You'd need both governments to step back from the rhetoric of territorial claims, which neither seems willing to do. And you'd need people like Eliyas to decide that defending their country means something other than manufacturing lies. None of that is happening.