Ethiopia's Pretoria peace deal unravels as TPLF regroups and old enemies align

In November 2022, Ethiopia's federal government and the Tigray People's Liberation Front signed what was meant to be a definitive end to two years of war. The Pretoria Agreement called for permanent cessation of hostilities, disarmament of Tigrayan forces, political dialogue, and the return of nearly two million displaced people. It explicitly required the TPLF to stop conscription, military training, and any preparations for renewed conflict. Nearly four years later, the large-scale fighting has not resumed—but almost everything else that the agreement was supposed to settle remains contested.

The peace has held in name only. Since 2024, the TPLF has undergone a quiet reorganization: it has repositioned itself politically within Tigray's institutions, retained connections to armed structures, and begun cultivating relationships with other groups opposed to the federal government in Addis Ababa. The sequence of events reads like a deliberate repositioning. There were reported meetings between TPLF officials and Eritrean counterparts in Dubai and along the border town of Zalambessa—a striking development given that Eritrea fought alongside Ethiopia against the TPLF during the 2020-22 war. Simultaneously, reports emerged of renewed recruitment and forced mobilization in Tigray. In January 2026, Tigray Defence Forces-aligned troops crossed the Tekeze River into the disputed Tselemt district and clashed with federal forces. By August, fighting had broken out again in western Tigray near the Sudanese border. The underlying question is whether Pretoria was ever meant to be a genuine settlement or merely a tactical pause that allowed the TPLF to catch its breath and reposition.

The disarmament process, which was supposed to be central to the agreement, never fully dismantled Tigray's military structures. Tigrayan forces did hand over heavy weapons, and thousands of former combatants entered demobilization programs. But the organizational skeleton of the military remained intact. When reports of renewed recruitment surfaced in 2026, they suggested something more systematic than isolated incidents—a direct violation of Article 7's prohibition on conscription and mobilization. A civilian source in Tigray, speaking anonymously to Al Jazeera, captured the fear this created: "The people of Tigray want peace; we don't want a second war." For many Tigrayans still living with the scars of the last conflict, the prospect of being conscripted again into a war they thought had ended was not abstract.

Within Tigray's political institutions, power shifted noticeably. Getachew Reda, who had led the interim administration, was removed in 2025 and replaced by Lieutenant General Tadesse Werede. Then in May 2026, the Tigray regional council was reinstated and elected Debretsion Gebremichael as president, a move that strengthened one faction within the TPLF at the expense of others. These were not the signs of a movement settling into post-war civilian governance. Instead, they suggested a struggle over the TPLF's future direction—one that was playing out in real time across Tigray's political landscape while the security question remained unresolved.

More broadly, the TPLF has begun finding common cause with groups it once fought against. Eritrea and the TPLF waged a devastating border war from 1998 to 2000, and Eritrean forces fought alongside Ethiopia against the TPLF during the recent conflict. Yet in the post-Pretoria period, closer contacts between Eritrea and elements of the TPLF have been reported. Ethiopia has accused Eritrea of supporting the TPLF as a proxy; Eritrea denies this. Beyond that bilateral relationship, a looser coalition has emerged called Tsimdo—a convergence of groups opposed to the federal government that includes the TPLF, Fano, the Oromo Liberation Army, and other armed groups. Fano leader Zemene Kassie has confirmed the coalition's existence while noting that Eritrea is not currently part of it. What matters about Tsimdo is not whether its members share identical political goals, but that they appear willing to set aside significant historical grievances to increase pressure on Addis Ababa. Groups that fought on opposite sides during the recent war are now cooperating.

The Pretoria Agreement left crucial disputes unresolved. Approximately 1.9 million people were displaced during the war, and many remain unable to return to contested areas including Welkait, Tsegede, Humera, and Raya. These territorial disputes are inseparable from the question of whether displaced Tigrayans can go home. The political relationship between Tigray and the federal government also remains unsettled. The federal government has failed to deliver on important elements of the post-war settlement, though those failures do not erase the TPLF's own commitments under the agreement.

There is no definitive proof that the TPLF entered Pretoria with a predetermined plan to use it as a pause in hostilities rather than a genuine peace. But the pattern since 2024 tells a consistent story: a movement that has remained politically organized, fought to regain control of Tigray's institutions, retained links to armed structures, and found new potential partners as the settlement stalled. For ordinary Tigrayans, the calculation is simpler and more urgent. A young man from Tigray told Al Jazeera: "The fear of being drafted is what's making many youth lose hope." The agreement ended the large-scale war. It did not settle the underlying struggle over power, territory, and security—and now, as that struggle resurfaces, the incomplete disarmament has become consequential in ways the framers of Pretoria may not have anticipated.