Context and Introduction
In a remote training camp in western Eritrea, hundreds of young people line up at dawn for roll-call. Many of them were transferred here directly after completing secondary school, barely eighteen years old. They do not know when—if ever—they will be allowed to return to their families. This is the reality of Eritrea’s system of indefinite national service, which functions less as temporary civic duty and more as a lifelong sentence.
When Eritrea won independence from Ethiopia in 1991, compulsory service was presented as a patriotic duty to defend the new nation and contribute to reconstruction. But what began as an eighteen-month obligation has, over time, transformed into an open-ended system that keeps Eritreans trapped in uniform for years, sometimes decades. Today, national service is the defining feature of civic life: almost every Eritrean family has a son, daughter, or parent still conscripted.
This article examines the structure of the system, its human impact, and the wider socio-economic and regional consequences. It argues that indefinite conscription amounts to state-sponsored forced labour, violates fundamental rights, and fuels one of the largest refugee flows in Africa.
Legal and Policy Framework
On paper, Eritrea’s National Service Proclamation of 1995 set out clear terms: six months of military training, followed by twelve months of development service. In practice, however, the “temporary” service has become permanent. Secondary school pupils are required to complete their final year at Sawa Defence Training Centre, blending education with military drills. From there, conscripts are funnelled into the army, civil administration, or state-run industries. Release is rare and often arbitrary.
This indefinite extension contravenes international legal norms. Eritrea is bound by treaties prohibiting forced labour, including the International Labour Organisation conventions, as well as human rights instruments guaranteeing liberty, family life, and freedom of movement. The absence of provisions for conscientious objection, combined with punitive measures against deserters or draft evaders, further heightens the system’s coercive character.
The Eritrean government defends its stance by citing ongoing regional threats, particularly the unresolved border tensions with Ethiopia and instability in the Horn of Africa. Yet analysts argue that maintaining an entire population under arms is neither proportionate nor justifiable. It is a policy that entrenches authoritarian control rather than ensuring national defence.
Lived Experience and Human Impact
Conscription in Eritrea is not simply military. Thousands of teachers, nurses, and civil servants are technically still “serving” decades after first being conscripted. They are paid token wages—often insufficient to support a family—while their deployment is dictated by the state.
For many, the psychological burden is overwhelming. A former teacher, conscripted since the late 1990s, explained that she has never been able to choose her workplace or plan for retirement. Young women at Sawa recount not only harsh physical conditions but also exposure to sexual harassment by commanding officers.
Families suffer too. Parents can go years without seeing their children; marriages are delayed indefinitely; careers and education are interrupted. Those who attempt to desert or flee risk arbitrary detention, torture, or punishment of their relatives. The phrase “no exit” is used frequently by Eritreans themselves—an acknowledgment that national service has become a trap.
Socio-Economic and Regional Consequences
The economic consequences are devastating. By tying skilled professionals to state service at subsistence wages, the government effectively suppresses labour markets. Hospitals lack doctors, schools lack qualified teachers, and agriculture relies on poorly paid recruits rather than motivated workers. The private sector is stunted, unable to compete with the state’s monopoly over labour.
The indefinite nature of conscription is also the single largest driver of Eritrean migration. Each year, tens of thousands attempt to escape—crossing into Sudan, Ethiopia, or undertaking perilous journeys towards Europe. The risks are enormous: traffickers, torture camps in the Sinai, drownings in the Mediterranean. Yet the lack of future inside Eritrea pushes people to take these chances.
Neighbouring states and European countries feel the consequences, as asylum claims mount and border policies tighten. Eritrean refugees consistently cite conscription as their primary reason for flight. Meanwhile, the Eritrean government benefits from diaspora remittances, creating a perverse cycle in which forced exile indirectly sustains the regime.
Accountability, Reform, and Conclusion
Eritrea has a clear duty under international law to demobilise its citizens after a reasonable period, establish transparent limits, and safeguard the rights of those in service. Accountability begins with acknowledging that indefinite conscription is unlawful forced labour.
Practical steps are possible:
- Time-bound reforms: introduce a strict eighteen-month maximum for all service.
- Civil oversight: create independent mechanisms for complaints, including protections against sexual abuse and exploitation.
- Economic revitalisation: allow professionals to re-enter the civilian workforce, thereby strengthening public services and the private economy.
- International engagement: donors and regional bodies such as the African Union should condition aid and cooperation on verifiable reform. Protection pathways—including family reunification and scholarships—can also alleviate the burden on Eritrean youth.
Ultimately, the human toll of indefinite conscription is unsustainable. It locks individuals into years of servitude, undermines families, hollows out the economy, and destabilises the wider region. Eritreans deserve the right to live ordinary lives—study, work, marry, raise children—without the looming shadow of permanent military service. Until the system changes, Eritrea’s future will remain trapped alongside its people.