The Tigray war did not begin on a single morning. Its roots stretch back years, into a slow unraveling of political alliances that once held Ethiopia together. The Tigray People’s Liberation Front, or TPLF, had been a dominant force in the country’s politics for decades. That dominance ended when Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed came to power, shifting the federal government’s center of gravity away from Tigray. Tensions hardened into hostility.
On November 3, 2020, those tensions broke open. TPLF forces attacked the Northern Command headquarters of the Ethiopian National Defense Force, along with other military bases in the region. It was a surprise assault. The federal government responded swiftly. Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed called it a “law enforcement operation.” Troops moved in from the south. From the north, Eritrean Defense Forces joined the fight. The war had two fronts from the start.
The federal government captured Mekelle, Tigray’s capital, on November 28, 2020. Officials declared victory. But the TPLF did not surrender. They called the federal and Eritrean forces “invaders” and kept fighting. The declaration of victory proved hollow. By June 28, 2021, the Tigray Defense Forces had retaken Mekelle. That was a turning point. The war settled into a stalemate. Neither side could deliver a final blow.
The cost was brutal. The report notes “widespr” — the word cuts off, but the meaning is clear. Widespread destruction. Widespread suffering. A region gutted by two years of combat. The conflict drew in multiple armies, turned cities into battlegrounds, and displaced hundreds of thousands. The Ethiopian federal government, the Eritrean military, and the TPLF each bore responsibility for the violence.
Why does this matter now? The war officially ended on November 3, 2022 — exactly two years after it started. That date is not a coincidence. It marks a full cycle of escalation, occupation, resistance, and exhaustion. The peace, fragile as it is, holds lessons. The war showed how quickly a dominant political party can become a target. It showed how regional alliances can drag a country into a multi-front conflict. And it showed that declaring victory does not end a war.
The TPLF’s attack on the Northern Command was the spark. But the fuel had been piling up for years. The federal government’s response, framed as a law enforcement operation, did not restore order. It triggered a prolonged stalemate. Eritrea’s involvement added another layer of complexity. What began as a regional rebellion became a proxy war, then a humanitarian disaster.
For those outside Ethiopia, the Tigray war was a distant crisis. For those inside, it was a daily reality of shelling, displacement, and hunger. The peace agreement of November 2022 did not erase the damage. It stopped the fighting. That is something. But the underlying grievances remain. The TPLF still exists. The federal government still holds power. Eritrea still watches its northern border. The war ended, but the conditions that produced it did not vanish.
