“Me and my friends are all getting ready to be called up,” said one 17-year old schoolboy. “I know I must serve my country to protect it: I am a true Eritrean. We know that if we are not prepared then the Ethiopians will overrun us again.”
Life is dominated by a tense stalemate over its frontier with Ethiopia after a 1998-2000 battle that claimed around 80,000 lives, and the nation remains in an effective state of emergency ready for war.
Eyeballing them across the border are Ethiopia’s 183,000 troops – the second largest army in sub-Saharan Africa according to the UN Development Programme, but drawn from a far larger 75.6 million population.
Fear among analysts of widespread conflict in the Horn of Africa — sparked by alleged proxy warfare between Eritrea and Ethiopia in Somalia — eased after the apparent defeat of Islamist forces by US-backed Ethiopian troops.
But the 1,000-kilometer (620-mile) border remains a bitter issue, its status still unclear six years after a peace deal.
Last month UN Secretary General Ban Ki-moon warned of the potential for an outbreak in hostilities, pointing to a worsening situation with heavy troop deployments in the officially de-militarized buffer zone border, and reported skirmishes between the two enemies.
In Eritrea, where the threat seems very real, soldiers are praised as national heroes. Commemorative T-shirts on sale in Asmara depict conscripts as defenders of the nation’s hard-won 30-year war of independence.
One top — available in both adult and child sizes — shows a soldier crouched in the dust cradling an assault rifle at an imagined enemy.
“You’ve served the future,” the T-Shirt’s slogan promises ominously.
Another has an image of a colourful sun cheerfully recalling “Memories of Sawa”, the giant military camp where all schoolchildren complete their final year of education, combined with practical preparation for war.
Recruits also endure 10 months of tough military training at the newly opened Kiloma camp in the bleak volcanic Danakil desert, one of the hottest and most inhospitable places in the world.
Most are then assigned military, agricultural or construction jobs, while those with better exam results are sent to college, then to government ministries.
While technically lasting 18 months in all, such service can stretch for years, with many used as a mass labour force to harvest crops belonging to families who lost relatives in previous battles.
For the government, the program is fundamental to the security and development of Africa’s youngest nation, which proclaimed independence in April 1993.
“As long as there are anti-peace elements and warmongers around, one cannot function peacefully without putting in place strong fortifications,” said a recent editorial on the information ministry’s website to honor the graduation of 17,000 young recruits.
“The fundamental conviction of the Eritrean government is that a nation’s defences is not something separate from the people, but is the people themselves.
“The sole objective of the National Service program is thus to cultivate capable, hardworking and alert individuals.”
Conscription is also praised as a means of fostering national unity within Eritrea, split between nine ethnic groups and an officially equal Muslim-Christian divide.
“Tolerance, love of work, the fruit of team work, brotherhood, were some of the lessons that I have gained,” Filmon Mengisteab, a recently graduated conscript from Asmara, told the state-run Eritrea Profile newspaper.
“I have acquired brothers and friends from all six regions of our country, and anywhere I go I will not be a stranger.”
However, analysts claim the mass militarization of society is stifling economic growth and stripping villages of the youth needed for work. Basic recruits are paid a salary of just 150 Nakfa (10 dollars, 8 euros) a month.
“It is very hard to survive on the salary, but I can survive the hardships,” said one drafted youth, who declined to be named.
“The issue is that we just don’t know how long it will last for.”
Analysts also claim the border stalemate is used as justification for the government’s iron-grip control, including the arrest of critics and closure of independent media.
Some try to dodge the draft by hiding or fleeing across the dangerous border to Ethiopia or Sudan, despite a reported shoot to kill policy by patrols.
Gangs of military police conduct regular large-scale arrests — reportedly including inside Sudan to catch those who leave — of those without correct papers.
Several reports also claim that relatives of those who flee are arrested in their place and given crippling 50,000 Nakfa (3,333 dollars, 2,547 euros) fines, impossible for most to pay in the impoverished country.
“My parents pray for time to speed so our sister comes back,” said another young Eritrean, due to be called up in June.
“But they also pray for time to go slow, because every day that passes is a day closer until my brother and I must go.”
