Abiy's Drone Diplomacy in Baku
At the end of February, Ethiopian PM Abiy Ahmed departed on a rather unusual visit to Baku, Azerbaijan. Slated as a meeting between two emerging powers, a focus on trade and investment frameworks was particularly emphasised by Foreign Minister Gedion Timotheos. More importantly, of course, was the signing of a comprehensive defence agreement by the two countries on 27 February. Spanning drone technology, armoured vehicles, artillery shell production, and air defence, the new agreement builds upon a framework from November 2025, which also included reference to refurbishing T-72 tanks, electronic warfare, and military-industrial manufacturing. Though war has not yet returned to Tigray as many feared, Abiy's vision of a militarised domestic —and regional —posture no doubt requires more hardware.
And as an ascendant so-called "Middle Power", hydrocarbon-rich Azerbaijan can deliver. In particular, Azerbaijan is able to call upon a host of high-spec drones sourced from Turkey and Israel, including the substantial Bayraktar Akıncı from Ankara and kamikaze types from Israel, including the IAI Harop and Orbiter-1K. Since 2022, the grinding war of attrition in eastern Ukraine has proven a grim laboratory for drone warfare and new technologies, but Azerbaijan similarly dramatically demonstrated their battlefield potential in its 2020 blitzkrieg offensive against Armenia during the Second Nagorno-Karabakh War. That conflict has since cooled, and with Baku's arms industry keen to export, where else is better than the Horn of Africa?
Meanwhile, Ethiopia looks to be an eager customer. Simmering conflict in western Oromia against the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) since 2018, and the raging Fano insurgency in the Amhara region has stretched the Ethiopian military thin-- let alone counting the calamity of the 2020-2022 Tigray war. Today, though, many tens of thousands of repositioned federal soldiers remain on the edges of Tigray, with substantial quantities of heavy weaponry deployed. War has not yet erupted, and hopefully, it will not, but Abiy will not want to be caught out again and has thus gone drone shopping in Baku.
It was just five years ago that Tigrayan forces pushed out from the mountains, routing the Ethiopian army and reaching deep into the country's centre. Only injections of Turkish and Emirati-supplied drones saved Abiy's regime, with this military material subsequently deployed into conflicts in western Oromia and Amhara-- often with devastating, and indiscriminate, effect. Already in Ethiopia's arsenal are Chinese-made Wing Loong II, Turkish Bayraktar TB2, and Iranian Mohajer-6 drones. Furthermore, Ethiopia is developing its own drone technologies, with PM Abiy Ahmed inaugurating the SkyWin Aeronautics Industries drone plant in March 2025. But sophisticated drone self-sufficiency still appears some distance away, and Abiy has grand plans now.
And Ankara has made it clear that it opposes yet another conflict in the Horn of Africa, with Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan travelling to Addis to make this-- and his opposition to Somaliland recognition-- explicit. Erdoğan's concern, and Ankara still holds sway in Ethiopia, relates to the broader constellation of forces and internationalised conflict in Sudan, and the dangers of a war in northern Ethiopia that pulls in Eritrea, metastasising further.
Indeed, domestic wars are not the only conflicts on Abiy's mind. This week, Sudan's military government accused Addis of permitting drone strikes on behalf of the Rapid Support Forces and their Emirati patrons into Sudanese territory. At the onset of the war in April 2023, Addis sought a nominal independence on the conflict despite its close relationship with Abu Dhabi, but in recent months, it has begun taking a more assertive stance—most notably building a major training base for the RSF in Benishangul-Gumuz. Now, if the Sudanese army's accusations that drones are now targeting Sudan from Ethiopia are correct-- and it is highly probable that they are-- it represents another major escalation at a perilous moment for the region.
For now, though, any Baku-facilitated drones are likely to represent a drop in the ocean, with Iran, Turkiye, and the Emirates having led the way in mid-priced drone warfare in the Horn. Indeed, Azerbaijan is far from the only country that has sought to expand its blossoming arms industry into the Horn of Africa, either as a testing ground or with pure profit in mind. In particular, investigations into the glut of weapons circulating in Sudan have documented sources from not only Russia, Turkiye, and the UAE, but also China, Serbia, and Yemen as well. While sophisticated military hardware, such as Bayraktar drones, may be operated only by trained technicians, the proliferation of light weapons across the Horn of Africa poses a security dilemma for years to come.
The appeal of drones is manifold; cheaper than a conventional army, they allow a government to strike far beyond its territorial limits and target massed fighters, infrastructure, or leaders at will. Still, it is no military panacea, but for the beleaguered Ethiopian military, a new injection may well represent a significant asset in any new war with Mekelle or Asmara. In neighbouring Somalia, meanwhile, dozens of American and Turkish drone strikes last year inflicted substantial casualties on both Al-Shabaab and Islamic State-Somalia, with varying impact on the battlefield.
Like Addis, Mogadishu has similarly courted Baku over its military capacities, with a bilateral security pact agreed last year in the Azerbaijani capital. Details, though, are scarce, with the Somali Defence Ministry merely stating that the pact covers "defence and defence industry cooperation", which "paves the way for enhanced technical support and military knowledge-sharing to bolster Somalia's defence capabilities." No discernible Azerbaijani military technology has been recorded so far in the Somali capital; perhaps not needed, given Ankara's recent deployment of a coterie of advanced weaponry to Mogadishu, including battle tanks and F-16 fighter jets. In the Horn, though, one incident that Baku may be more keen to forget was the difficulty of securing the release of 18 Azerbaijani citizens from Eritrea after their vessels were detained in 2024.
Though just one trip among many, Abiy's visit to Baku is emblematic of the broader age of the "Middle Powers", and of a world order increasingly remade through transactional alliances rather than fixed blocs. And in the Horn, countries once distant from the region's security landscape—from Israel to Pakistan—are now drawn into widening constellations of military cooperation stretching from the Mediterranean to the Indian Ocean. Few remember the horrors of the Tigray War or the ethnic cleansing of the Armenian population of Nagorno-Karabakh just a few years ago; yet the conflicts that produced them remain unresolved. Instead, what endures are the technologies forged in those wars—now circulating through an increasingly crowded marketplace of power in the Horn of Africa.
The Horn Edition Team
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In early 1987, the commander of the Sudanese People's Liberation Army/Movement (SPLA/M), John Garang, is reported to have issued a radio order, instructing his field officers to gather children to be dispatched to Ethiopia for military training. Garang's command conveyed the rebels' institutionalisation of a well-established practice of child soldiering; a dynamic that has been reproduced by virtually every major armed actor in Sudan-- and later South Sudan-- since independence. Today, as war has continued to ravage and metastasise across Sudan, few communities and children have been left untouched by the ruinous violence.
The Rahanweyne Resistance Army (RRA) did not emerge from a shir (conference) in October 1995 to defend a government, nor to overthrow it. Rather, the militia —whose name was even explicit in its defence of a unified Digil-Mirifle identity —arose from the ruin of Bay and Bakool in the years prior, and decades of structural inequalities.
War has been averted in Tigray-- for now. In early February, tens of thousands of Ethiopian federal soldiers and heavy artillery streamed northwards, readying themselves on the edges of the northernmost region for seemingly imminent conflict.
The battle for South West—and Somalia's political future—continues apace. With the brittle alliance between South West State President Abdiaziz Laftagareen and President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud having broken down spectacularly, the federal government is pouring in arms and forces to oust the Digil-Mirifle leader. Staring down the barrel of the formal opposition holding three Federal Member States and, with it, greater territory, population, and clan, Villa Somalia is looking to exploit intra-Digil-Mirifle grievances—and convince Addis—to keep its monopolistic electoral agenda alive. But this morning, Laftagareen announced a 9-member electoral committee to hastily steer his re-election, bringing the formal bifurcation of the Somali state ever closer.
The history of the contemporary Horn of Africa is littered with abandoned and abrogated peace agreements-- as well as a handful of successes. A petri dish (or Pandora's box) of issues related to sovereignty, inter- and intra-state conflict, and the nature of the state itself, the region has also been a laboratory for numerous forms of peacemaking and dealmaking. Yet in such a fractured regional order, 'peace' and 'conflict' should not be considered binaries, but rather as part of a sliding scale, where civilians may be targeted during the active fighting in South Sudan or suffer as part of a 'negative peace' in Tigray. Today, with predatory peace in South Sudan, Sudan, and perhaps now Tigray, having given way to renewed violence on a broad scale, what is the nature and future of peacemaking in the Horn of Africa?
The worm, it seems, has finally turned. After years serving as a prop for President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud's monocratic aspirations, Abdiaziz Laftagareen, the leader of South West State, has clapped back against Villa Somalia, accusing the federal government of – among other things - dividing the country, monopolising public resources, colluding with Al-Shabaab, and leading Somalia back into state failure.
Six general elections in Ethiopia have been held since the Ethiopian People's Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF) implemented its ethnic-federal system in 1995. Each has delivered victory to the incumbent government of the day — including, most recently, the deeply discredited 2021 polls held in the shadow of the Tigray war. Once again, with Ethiopia's 7th elections — scheduled for 1 June 2026 — fast approaching, few anticipate anything other than a coronation in a country mired in raging insurgencies, state contraction, and the threat of broader inter-state conflict.
Last April, General Sheegow Ahmed Ali-- once the highest-ranking military officer hailing from the Somali Bantu-- died in ignominy in a Mogadishu hospital. A senior commander who had previously spearheaded operations in south-central Somalia, Sheegow had been summarily sentenced to 10 years in prison in 2023 for operating a militia in the capital. His death-- mourned widely and protested in Mogadishu and Beledweyne-- returned the spotlight to the pernicious issues of discrimination in the Somali National Army (SNA).
The Horn of Africa's political fate has always been wired to external commercial interests, with its expansive eastern edge on the Red Sea serving as an aorta of trade for millennia. A Greek merchant's manual from the 1st century AD describes the port of Obone in modern-day Puntland as a hub of ivory, tortoiseshell, enslaved people and cinnamon destined for Egypt. Today, as so often quoted, between 12-15% of the world's seaborne trade passes along the arterial waterway, with the Suez Canal bridging Europe and Asia. But well before the globalised world or the vying Gulf and Middle Powers over the Red Sea's littoral administrations, the logic of 'gunboat diplomacy' underpinned the passage over these seas.