“One Hundred Seventy-five Countries Later, Eritrea: Vanquished Hegemonies, Quiet Resilience, and Green Resolve” Prof. Saleem H. Ali

Professor Saleem H. Ali shares his reflections on Eritrea’s unique architecture, religious harmony and environmental initiatives following his two-day visit, a fulfilment of his long-time dream. He received a doctorate in Environmental Planning from MIT, a Master’s degree in Environmental Studies from Yale University and Bachelor’s degree in Chemistry (summa cum laude) from Tufts University. He holds the Blue and Gold Distinguished Professorship in Energy and the Environment at the University of Delaware (USA) and is a member of the United Nations International Resource Panel.

• What sparked your interest in Eritrea?

My curiosity about Eritrea began in high school during the peak of its war for independence from Ethiopia. The struggle portrayed in news outlets captivated me—how could such a small nation resist such overwhelming forces? Later, during my university years, I heard the news of Eritrea’s independence in 1991, becoming a new UN-recognized country in 1993. I remember thinking, “This is a place I must visit someday.” Over the years, I met Eritrean friends in Australia and the USA, particularly Dr. Fitsum G/ giorgis, whose deep affection for his homeland moved me. He spoke passionately about Eritrea’s diverse landscapes, its cool highlands, arid lowlands, and rich cultural mosaic. That only deepened my desire to see it firsthand.

• How would you describe your first impressions of Asmara?

Asmara is unlike any African capital I’ve visited. The city is full of Art Deco architecture, a legacy of Italian colonialism but now distinctly Eritrean. Walking through its streets, you see pedestrian-friendly boulevards where cyclists and pedestrians dominate, rare in a continent where traffic congestion is the norm. The human-scale urban planning creates a charm that’s hard to replicate. Café culture thrives here; people sip macchiato in century-old bars as if time stands still.

• Massawa made a strong impression on you as well. What stood out?

Massawa on the Red Sea is unforgettable. I visited the Sahaba mosque, which, I learned, was established during the first Hijra by H. Usman and still had the old Qibla of Jerusalem. As a Muslim visitor, entering that mosque and performing a prayer was a deeply memorable moment. The coastal light, the narrow alleys, and the layered history of Massawa — Ottoman, African, Arab, and colonial, all converge there. I was in awe of the scenery on the way down to Massawa and the way the sea shapes daily life.

• What is your observation of religious coexistence in Eritrea?

It was so refreshing to observe peaceful coexistence between Muslims and Christians in public life. Religious identity is visible but not a source of everyday friction; instead, it is woven into a shared civic fabric. That coexistence extends into workplaces and markets, where people of different faiths interact routinely and respectfully.

• As an environmental scientist, what aspects of Eritrea’s environment policy or practice impressed you?

Several things stood out. First, the near absence of visible plastic waste compared with many other African countries and many parts of the world. That is not accidental; it reflects policy choices and social norms that discourage single‑use plastics. Second, I noticed tree‑planting efforts even on the arid route to Massawa. In a landscape that can be unforgiving, the visible commitment to reforestation and greening is notable. These are early steps toward environmental sustainability, but they are meaningful and visible.

• What does your life as a traveler look like and how has Eritrea fit into that journey?

I travel because I am curious about how people live on this beautiful planet. Over the years I’ve been fortunate to visit remote and extreme places — from Antarctica and Greenland to distant islands and mountain plateaus — and Eritrea became my 176th country. I travel for research, book writing, and for the simple, stubborn pleasure of listening. I am a National Geographic traveler and an environmental scientist. I write, I teach, and I try to pay attention. What struck me in Eritrea was how quickly a short visit can reveal deep continuities: Asmara’s human‑scale streets, Massawa’s salt‑bright light, the Sahaba mosque where I prayed, and the hospitality of a family who invited me to a coffee ceremony and a home meal.

• What will you do after your world tour and what will your next book be about?

When the world tour is done I plan to write a different kind of book — not a personal diary of my own movements, but a reflective memoir about the countries I have visited and the ways borders shape societies. I don’t think my private anecdotes are the point; I want to examine how culture, policy, and geography interact at the edges where people meet and separate. The book will synthesize decades of travel, field observation, and scholarship — including work I recently completed on sustainability for Oxford University and it will draw on the seven books I’ve written to date. The project will be comparative and thematic rather than chronological. Each chapter will treat a country or border region as a case study: how migration and trade reconfigure identity, how colonial and Cold War legacies persist in urban form and food, and how environmental constraints and civic practices produce different models of resilience.

• What surprised you most about daily life and social norms in Eritrea?

The egalitarian presence of women in the workplace was striking. Women were visible across sectors, and there was a sense of shared responsibility in public life. That, combined with the pedestrian‑centered streets of Asmara and the communal life of Massawa, gave me a sense of social cohesion that is often overlooked in external narratives about the country.

• You used the phrase “vanquished colonialism and Cold War hegemony.” How did that history feel present during your visit?

The history is present in architecture, in stories people tell, and in the political consciousness of the place. You can see layers of Italian colonial planning in Asmara’s buildings, and the scars of conflict in the memories people carry. Yet what is most striking is how those legacies have been repurposed into a national story of survival and self‑determination. That narrative is not triumphalist; it is practical and forward‑looking.

• How did you find the food?

I loved it. Traditional Eritrean cuisine left a strong impression. Since I grew up eating Pakistani dishes which have a lot of spices, I particularly enjoyed dishes seasoned with berbere — the warm, complex spice blend that defines so much of the region’s flavor. I also appreciated a fermented sundried chili paste, which added a concentrated, smoky heat to many meals. Those traditional flavors are bold and rooted in local practice.

• You also mentioned Italian influences.

Absolutely. Eritrea’s colonial history left a culinary imprint that is still very much alive. I admired the Italian‑influenced dishes: pasta, pizza, and the breads that are baked with care and character. The coexistence of spicy, indigenous stews and delicate Italian pastas or crusty loaves is one of the country’s culinary pleasures. Eating a simple plate of pasta in Asmara felt like a cultural conversation across time, and the local twists on Italian staples were delightful.

• Any particular meal that stands out?

Yes. One of my most memorable meals was at a local family’s house. I was invited for a coffee ceremony, and the hospitality that followed was unforgettable. The table held several dishes: a beef stew infused with berbere, a bowl of shiro, and many vegetarian plates — lentil and chickpea preparations, sautéed greens, and richly spiced sauces. The coffee ceremony itself was slow and ceremonial, a social ritual that framed the meal. Eating in that home, sharing food prepared with care, and joining the coffee ritual made the visit feel intimate and rooted in daily life rather than tourism.

• Any final reflections from your two days?

Eritrea left me with a sense of wonder — at its architecture, its coastal beauty, and its social fabric. “While challenges remain it is a country which has vanquished colonialism and Cold War hegemony with tenacity.” That sentence captures what I felt: a nation that has endured, that holds on to its cultural and spiritual landmarks, and that is quietly working toward environmental and social sustainability. My three days were only an introduction, but they were enough to make me want to return.

• Thank you for your time and we wish all the best in your upcoming projects!