19 Sept 2025

Abiy opens Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam amid escalating tensions in Horn of Africa

Jean Shaoul


On September 11, Ethiopia’s Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed officially opened the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD), a $5 billion megaproject that has been under construction since 2011. Operations started in February 2002, with the reservoir gradually filling behind the massive concrete dam.

The 1.8km wide and 145 metres high dam across a section of the Blue Nile in western Ethiopia, 30km from the border with Sudan, contains nearly double the volume of water in China’s Three Gorges Dam. While the latter is largely a water management project for China’s Yangtse basin, the GERD, which impacts the Nile’s flow to Sudan and Egypt, was designed as a hydroelectric power station, Africa’s largest.

Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam [Photo: Prime Minister Office Ethiopia]

It is expected to produce around 5,150MW of electricity, more than doubling Ethiopia’s present output, under conditions where nearly half of Ethiopia’s 130 million live without electricity, and enable Ethiopia to export power to Kenya, Tanzania, and Djibouti, to the tune of $427 million in export revenues this fiscal year, eventually bringing in $1 billion a year.

Abiy declared on the completion of the dam in July, “To our downstream neighbours, Egypt and Sudan, our message is simple: the Renaissance Dam is not a threat, but a shared opportunity.” But the dam, which has the potential to transform the lives of millions of people in Ethiopia, the Horn of Africa and East Africa, is mired in toxic geopolitics.

Denouncing the dam as an “existential” threat, Egypt’s President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi said he would use “all available means to defend Egypt’s interests”.

The Renaissance Dam

In 2011, in the aftermath of the revolutionary overthrow of Egypt’s President Hosni Mubarak, Ethiopia’s then-Prime Minister Meles Zenawi announced that it would construct the “Millennium Dam”, now the GERD. The decision caused outrage in Egypt, which relies on the Nile for 97 percent of its water—the lifeblood of this otherwise desert country of 107 million people—especially for farming. Around 80 percent comes from the Blue Nile in Ethiopia.

Egypt denounced Meles’s unilateral decision to build the dam as a contravention of international law and sought to get it cancelled, without success, and a war of words began. Amid escalating rhetoric on both sides, the dam project became known as “Africa’s water war”. Relations between the two countries became so poisonous that fears of an Egyptian military intervention prompted Ethiopia to install Russian and Israeli-supplied missile defence systems around the reservoir’s thick walls.

Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam. Its position on the Blue Nile is marked in red on the map [Photo by Hel-hama / CC BY-SA 3.0]

Cairo fears that in times of drought, a now recurring event, Ethiopia may reduce the flow to Sudan and Egypt, plunging millions of farmers into penury. It pointed to the 1929 and 1959 treaties—orchestrated by Britain, the colonial power in Egypt and Sudan—that granted Egypt authority over Nile waters and, under the 1959 treaty, 66 percent of the Nile’s flow, to the detriment of the upstream countries of the Blue Nile and the White Nile.

For decades, Egypt was able to marshal its international support, combined with military threats and diplomatic pressure, to sustain its control. But the upstream countries rejected the colonial era treaties, arguing that they privileged Egypt and Sudan at their expense. In 2010, they adopted the Cooperative Framework Agreement (CFA) for the Nile Basin that committed its signatories to using the river “in an equitable and reasonable manner” and to “achieve optimal and sustainable use” while protecting the resource and respecting each other’s interests. Under this agreement, the CFA must resolve disputes about the use of Nile water resources. But years of negotiations have failed to produce an agreement on how they will share the water from the Nile, particularly in times of drought

As yet only Ethiopia, Rwanda, Uganda, Tanzania and Burundi have signed the agreement, with the Democratic Republic of Congo and Kenya still to do so. Egypt, Eritrea and Sudan rejected it outright. Egypt tried to take the case to the United Nations Security Council in 2021, to no avail. The reduction in the Nile flow makes water-intensive crops like rice, a staple food in Egypt, uneconomic and has increased the cost of irrigation, threatening Egypt’s food security.

After Egypt lobbied the multilateral institutions such as the World Bank not to finance the dam, Meles turned to domestic banks and the Ethiopian people to finance the dam with donations, low-denomination bonds and salary deductions for public sector workers. As a result, almost all Ethiopians have a financial stake in the dam, with Prime Minister Abiy using the project as a tool to stoke nationalistic fervour in a bid to counter the explosive ethnic tensions in the Tigray, Amhara, Oromia and Afar regions.

Chinese banks have provided some of the finance for the infrastructure around the dam, such as power lines. Nevertheless, the limited investment in transmission and distribution across the country’s mountainous and rocky terrain has led to an unreliable electricity supply for Ethiopia’s new industrial parks and those households that are connected to the grid, making mass electricity access a distant dream.

Realignment of relations within the Horn of Africa

Both Ethiopia and Egypt sought diplomatic support from other Nile Basin countries, with Egypt seeking support from Sudan where the Blue Nile is also an important source of water for agriculture, electricity production and consumption. While Sudan has long historical ties with Egypt, as well as Saudi Arabia, it has periodically sided with Ethiopia in the dispute.

After the pre-emptive military coup that brought down longtime dictator Omar al-Bashir in April 2019 to put an end to the months of mass protests and strikes calling for the ouster of his regime, the Sudanese government drew closer to Egypt, with both countries hardening their positions against the GERD.

Abiy’s declaration of war on the secessionists in Tigray province in 2020 spilled over into Sudan’s al-Fashaga, a fertile area belonging to Sudan but where Ethiopian farmers have settled for decades. As the Tigray crisis (2020-22) and tensions over the first rounds of filling the GERD basin escalated, the two countries exchanged fire in a border conflict of varying intensity.

Ethiopian refugees line up for water in Qadarif region, eastern Sudan, Sunday, November 15, 2020. Thousands of Ethiopians fled the war in Tigray region into Sudan. [AP Photo/Marwan Ali]

Those attending the official inauguration of the dam last week included Kenyan President William Ruto, African Union chairperson Mahamoud Ali Youssouf and Djiboutian President Ismail Omar Guelleh. Also attending was Somali President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, who has drawn closer to Egypt, preparing to welcome Egyptian troops to Somalia, ostensibly to fight Al-Shabaab.

Egypt and Sudan refused to send representatives, releasing a joint statement warning that the dam “breached international law and would cause grave consequences to the two downstream countries”.

In recent talks with US CENTCOM Commander General Michael Kurilla, el-Sisi insisted the Nile was a “national security issue” and expressed his appreciation for President Donald Trump’s efforts to broker an agreement. Trump pledged swift resolution of the dispute, saying the dam was “closing up water going to the Nile”, which he described as “a very important source of income and life … to take that away is pretty incredible.”

Ethiopia’s Red Sea ambitions

The GERD project has become entangled with Ethiopia’s efforts to gain access to a port on the Red Sea, drawing in Somalia and Eritrea, where tensions are rising over issues of national sovereignty, water disputes, historical border disputes and the rival interests of the major as well as regional powers.

Ethiopia, the headquarters of the African Union, the Horn of Africa’s powerhouse and for a long period the region’s anchor state on behalf of US imperialism, is sited at the crossroads between Africa, the Middle East and the Mediterranean.

The Red Sea, a vital global trade route connecting Asia and Europe, has become a geopolitical hotspot drawing the attention of international naval forces. The US, Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, the United Arab Emirates, Russia, Israel and China—which paid for the Addis Ababa-Djibouti railway as part of its Belt and Road Initiative and gained significant control over Ethiopia’s main import-export route—are all jockeying for position, backing rival states and competing factions within them.

Topographic map in English of the Red Sea, UTM projection [Photo by Eric Gabba / CC BY-SA 4.0]

As the world’s most populous landlocked country, Ethiopia is reliant on neighbouring countries to provide trade access, with 95 percent of its trade by volume going through Djibouti, following Eritrea’s secession from Ethiopia in 1993 after a 30-year war.

Two years ago, Abiy declared that Ethiopia wanted greater access to a seaport, calling it an “existential matter” to avoid over-reliance on Djibouti which has refused Ethiopia’s requests for a naval base while granting a similar request from Egypt. He said he wanted to discuss with neighbouring countries access to a port. He was, however, reportedly “considering all options” to achieve this objective, alongside increased defence spending and the procurement of naval training and equipment through partnerships with Turkey and France, despite Ethiopia’s landlocked status.

This raised alarm in neighbouring states, particularly Eritrea and Somalia, due to historical animosities and unresolved territorial disputes. Eritrea called Ethiopia’s maritime ambitions “reckless” and warned Abiy to back off in a bid to pre-empt any Ethiopian attempt to reassert control over its Red Sea port of Assab.

This prompted border closures, the termination of flights, the rupture of diplomatic relations and support for opposition factions in each other’s politically fragile countries that threaten a resumption of the fratricidal war in Tigray. Around one million people remain displaced, and tens of thousands of refugees have still not been able to return home since the war ended in 2022. It marks the unravelling of the 2018 peace accord between Ethiopia and Eritrea that won the Nobel Peace Prize for Abiy.

In January 2024, Ethiopia signed a memorandum of understanding with Somaliland, which broke away from Somalia in 1991, with a long coastline on the Red Sea, promising to recognise it as an independent state in exchange for the lease of a 20km section of its coastline near the port of Berbera for 50 years to set up a naval base. This sparked uproar in Somalia, Djibouti and Eritrea, who viewed it as an aggressive move and responded with diplomatic countermeasures.

Egypt seized the opportunity to find allies against Ethiopia and offered to replace Ethiopian troops in the new African Union Support and Stabilization Mission in Somalia, while joining Eritrea and Somalia in a pledge to safeguard Somalia’s sovereignty and collaborate on Red Sea issues—tantamount to a hostile encirclement of Ethiopia.

It took an intervention by Turkey, which has become an important geopolitical player in the Horn, having close economic ties with Addis Ababa and security deals with Mogadishu, for the two countries to restore diplomatic relations, with Ethiopia suspending the deal and agreeing a conditional recognition of Somali territorial unity in return for a compromise maritime access arrangement.

Collapse of car lender Tricolor sends out a tremor

Nick Beams


The collapse last week of the Texas-based subprime auto lender Tricolor Holdings and its filing for bankruptcy, stating it was going out of business rather than undertaking a restructuring, has raised concern that it could be the harbinger of similar events.

Tricolor, Las Vegas [Photo: Tricolor]

Tricolor made loans to low-income residents and immigrants, often without a Social Security number, financed with credit from banks and private investment firms, including some of the major names in the finance world.

The loans were then packaged and sold off in tranches – from high to low-grade—as asset-backed securities (ABS). When the collapse took place, the most secure tranche, which had been given a triple-A rating as recently as June, was trading at 78 cents on the dollar, with the lowest at just 12 cents. As of March, there were $1.4 billion in such securities outstanding.

Tricolor’s business model was a repeat of the sub-prime mortgage operation that played a central role in sparking the financial crisis of 2008.

While most media commentary noted this fact, there were reassurances that Tricolor was an outlier rather than a harbinger of a broader crisis and that the subprime auto lending market was only an eighth of the size of the subprime mortgage market at the time of the crash.

But there were concerns, nonetheless, because major banks, including JP Morgan Chase, Barclays, and the regional US bank Fifth Third, each of which has around $200 million in exposure to Tricolor and were named as secured lenders in its bankruptcy filing.

A number of asset management firms held Tricolor bonds, including such well-known names as AllianceBernstein, Pacific Investment Management Co, and Janus Henderson.

The immediate cause of the collapse was the announcement on Tuesday last week that the Justice Department was investigating possible fraud on the basis that Tricolor had used the same collateral on multiple loans.

The filing for bankruptcy said the company had more than 25,000 creditors and between $1 billion and $10 billion in liabilities—a disparity that would seem to indicate a chaotic accounting system.

The company made loans to people often in very straightened circumstances, desperate in need of transport to obtain work and leading a precarious existence. Tricolor’s average loan of $21,381 carried an interest rate of more than 16 percent.

Subprime lenders such as Tricolor, a report by CNN explained, actually expected borrowers to default on their loans because they could quickly repossess the car in question and then resell it. Some even installed GPS tracking devices to enable repossession teams to quickly find them, and in some cases, could even disable the ignition systems once there was a default on a loan.

The Tricolor collapse is an indication that beneath the hype about the strength of the American economy, there is a very different situation for many of the poorest sections of the population, and more broadly, the growing divorce between the financial markets and the underlying real economy.

According to an editorial comment in the Wall Street Journal: “Stretched after years of inflation, low-income borrowers are falling behind on payments, and many are underwater on their loans. They owe more than they could get for trading-in or selling their cars.”

Young people borrowed to buy cars during the pandemic when they did not have to make student loan payments but were now struggling to pay both.

“Auto delinquencies and car repossessions are getting close to 2009 recession levels. Yet investors have continued to snap up subprime auto debt.”

In its report on the Tricolor collapse, Bloomberg noted: “For years, investors have piled into the subprime auto market, swelling its size to some $80 billion, to reap the kinds of interest rates that few debt products on Wall Street offer.”

Peter Cechinis, director of research at Axonic Capital, told the news outlet: “ABS market participants are creating incredible demand for subprime auto loans, and this is resulting in loose, and sometimes even reckless, underwriting. While the Tricolor bankruptcy may seem isolated and idiosyncratic, one would be remiss not to ask whether or not it’s a canary in the coal mine for subprime auto lending.”

This overall expansion was reflected in the operations of Tricolor. According to a report from Kroll Bond Rating Agency, its lending has risen to around $1 billion in 2024, five times its level in 2020.

The Bloomberg report said that in 2023, asset-backed bonds tied to subprime auto loans had threatened to deliver losses for the first time since the 1980s, and that since that time, the “cracks have only widened,” and that “at least a dozen ABS currently at risk of taking losses,” according to a report prepared by Citigroup.

A report in the Financial Times entitled “Car lender’s failure hints at what’s under the hood in private credit” drew attention to the wider significance of the Tricolor collapse.

It said that because of the rise in so-called shadow banking—the growth of non-bank private credit institutions—what is called a “mini-drama” involving a company little known outside a few states in the US, had “maxi-implications for banks everywhere.”

While the amounts involved at Tricolor were small in relation to the overall financial system, they were still significant. The underlying process was part of a wider trend.

“So-called asset-based lending, which involves slicing and dicing things such as auto debt, student debt, airplane leases, and mortgages, is a linchpin of the private credit revolution sweeping Wall Street.”

It drew attention to a report from Fitch Ratings, which said that US banks currently had $1.2 trillion outstanding in loans to non-bank financial institutions. This was a 20 percent jump in a year, compared to an increase of less than 2 percent in commercial loans over the same period.

Two “worrying possibilities” to emerge from the demise of Tricolor were that the “American consumer, notably the lower-income segment that Tricolor served, is in rougher shape than imagined” and that lenders who dole out auto loans and the like have not been careful in their underwriting choices, and their bank backers have not been asking the right questions.

It expressed the hope that Tricolor might be a “helpful spur” to step up scrutiny “rather than a sign that it is already too late.”

History, particularly that of the subprime mortgage crisis, suggests it could well be the latter.

Romanian government imposes sweeping austerity program

Andrei Tudora




Romanian educators protest against the government's austerity measures on September 8, 2025.

The Romanian government has launched a sweeping program of austerity and social cuts. Sworn in on June 23 after a protracted constitutional crisis, the cabinet is composed of a broad coalition of all major “pro-European” bourgeois parties: the PSD (Social Democratic Party), PNL (National Liberal Party), and USR (Save Romania Union).

Aligning itself with the global shift of the ruling class toward militarism and attacks on the working class, the government is dismantling social and democratic rights won through generations of struggle. Across Europe, the same pattern is evident: in France, the government is planning €44 billion [$US51 billion] in budget cuts for the coming year, while German Chancellor Merz proclaims that Germany “can no longer afford the welfare state.”

In Romania, 35 years of capitalist restoration and successive waves of EU-dictated pro-market reforms have created an economic and social wasteland. Now the government is determined to destroy what remains of workers’ social rights in order to finance the EU-wide rearmament drive.

The new austerity measures extend policies introduced by the previous government, such as hiring freezes and public sector wage caps. Tens of thousands of public service jobs will be eliminated, throwing thousands into unemployment.

On August 1, the standard VAT rose from 19 to 21 percent, while reduced rates of 5 and 9 percent on food, medicine, and other basic goods increased to 11 percent. These tax hikes followed the July removal of price caps on energy, originally imposed in 2021 after EU-driven energy market liberalization. Their elimination has triggered average increases of more than 60 percent in energy bills, with many households paying twice as much as before. Inflation soared to 7.8 percent in July.

The sharpest cuts target public health and education.

One of the most devastating measures is the removal of dependent status for national health insurance (CNAS), which will strip more than 650,000 vulnerable people of coverage starting September 1. Romania’s universal healthcare system—dating back to the pre-capitalist era—has been steadily hollowed out over the past 35 years. A study by Bucharest’s Academy of Economic Studies (ASE) revealed that 90 percent of CT scans, more than 80 percent of radiotherapy, and 89 percent of hemodialysis are now privatized. As in the UK’s NHS, the private sector siphons off the most profitable services while public patients face long waits or exorbitant fees.

Today, over 12 percent of the population lacks CNAS coverage, typically the most exploited sections of the working class: informal workers, the long-term unemployed, and migrant laborers. With the latest cuts, an additional 4 percent of those insured—largely unemployed youth and dependent spouses—will lose coverage overnight. Moreover, groups previously exempt from contributions, including pensioners with incomes above 3,000 lei (€591), unemployment and welfare recipients, and parents on leave, will now see deductions from their benefits. Sick leave is also under attack, with reduced pay and stricter oversight.

The education system faces an equally devastating assault. Hundreds of schools are being closed or merged, class size limits abolished, and teachers’ workloads increased from 18 to 20 hours per week. Many educators are forced to commute between schools or take on even more hours to cope. Pay for overtime has been slashed, with one hour of teaching now worth just €4. Chronic understaffing means thousands of teachers—especially younger ones—face layoffs, along with hundreds of auxiliary staff.

Scholarships at all levels are also being cut. The national student fund has been slashed by 40 percent, with payments suspended during holidays. Criteria are being tightened, while several grants—including teaching master scholarships—are eliminated or severely reduced.

These measures follow the mass teachers’ strike of 2023, when hundreds of thousands walked out against education cuts and poverty wages. The strike, directed against the union bureaucracy, was sabotaged after three weeks by the main federations—FSLI, FSE “Spiru Haret,” and “Alma Mater.” Supported by pseudo-left groups like Socialist Action Group (GAS), the unions declared a false victory, leaving teachers with broken promises and frozen wages. This betrayal paved the way for today’s frontal assault.

Prime Minister Bolojan admitted in a Bloomberg interview that “the risk of insolvency is indeed very high after years of large deficits” and claimed austerity was necessary to prevent “total collapse.” Romania’s 2024 deficit has risen to 9.3 percent of GDP, with threats from the European Commission to cut funding and from credit agencies to downgrade the country to junk status.

Yet media and government officials blame “unsustainable handouts,” such as a modest 2024 pension law, while ignoring the real cause: skyrocketing military spending. Defense expenditures have risen to 2.5 percent of GDP this year, with plans to reach 3 percent soon. Military outlays already consume nearly 6 percent of the national budget, not including vast debt-financed procurement programs. Commitments for 2024 alone total more than 95 billion lei (€19 billion), or nearly 5 percent of GDP.

These programs were laid out years in advance in “Army 2040,” approved by the Supreme Council of National Defense in 2021, which maps a wholesale transformation of the Romanian military onto a war footing—funded through brutal austerity.

Since 2021, Romania has been governed by variations of the same grand coalition. Even during the so-called “pandemic recovery,” living standards fell as inflation eroded wages. The ruling parties postponed their frontal assault until after elections, hoping for legitimacy. But the elections proved a disaster, with all major parties losing support and the coalition barely maintaining a majority. President Dan only secured victory after repeated annulments of ballots and the barring of his main opponent.

Amid this crisis, the ruling elite is turning to fascist forces. The far-right Alliance for the Union of Romanians (AUR) remains the only parliamentary opposition, moving motions against the government while advocating its own program of Trump-style cuts. Meanwhile, the mainstream parties—led by the PSD—are adopting AUR’s xenophobic rhetoric. Recent attacks on foreign workers underscore the danger facing the entire working class.

Educators are the first to resist the new measures, but confront the same union apparatus that betrayed them in 2023. Over the summer, union leaders signed a collective labor agreement with the government without consulting the rank and file, erecting further legal barriers to strikes. “There are many who want a general strike, but the general strike has to satisfy some requirements. There are some very ugly restrictions that we have to solve,” said Anton Hadar, head of “Alma Mater.” In reality, the bureaucracy is working to block any strike.

On September 8, the first day of the school year, around 20,000 educators rallied. The unions responded by organizing a so-called “boycott,” where teachers supervise but do not teach classes. Such token actions are designed to exhaust and demoralize educators while exposing them to government pressure.