Markets Are Tools, Not Gods: The Case for Eritrean Economic Planning - Serwe News
A serious Eritrean economic strategy should use markets where they are useful while placing land, ports, energy, water, mining, transport, and major infrastructure under transparent national direction.
Markets are useful inventions. They can move bread from a bakery to a neighborhood, help a mechanic discover what drivers need, and allow a farmer to compare buyers. They carry information about demand, reward initiative, and often coordinate ordinary exchange more nimbly than a ministry ever could. But usefulness is not sovereignty. A tool should remain in the hand of a society; it should not become the authority that decides what the society is allowed to build.
That distinction matters especially for Eritrea. A small country cannot afford the fashionable illusion that every asset is simply a commodity and every investor merely a customer. Land, ports, water systems, energy networks, mines, rail and road corridors, and major industrial infrastructure shape the freedom of generations. Whoever controls them can influence where people live, what the country produces, how it trades, and whether a political decision can be carried into economic life. To auction such power to whoever arrives with the most capital would not create a neutral market. It would create private government without public accountability.
The boundary of the market
The central question is therefore not “market or state?” It is: which decisions may safely be left to exchange, and which must remain subject to national purpose? Shops, workshops, restaurants, software services, household production, and much ordinary agriculture can benefit from competition and experimentation. Small enterprise should have room to open, fail, adapt, and grow without being smothered by arbitrary permissions. Cooperatives should be able to pool machinery, credit, storage, and bargaining power. Prices can guide countless daily choices that no planning office could sensibly calculate.
Strategic sectors are different because their consequences extend far beyond a transaction. A port is not only a company earning fees; it is the country’s physical relationship with the world. An electricity grid is not only a seller of kilowatt-hours; it determines whether factories can run, clinics can preserve medicine, and villages can support modern work. Water cannot be governed merely by purchasing power when its allocation shapes food security and settlement. Mining contracts can finance development, but badly designed ones can also export irreplaceable wealth while leaving little productive capacity behind.
Public control need not mean that every task is performed by a single bureaucracy. It means that the public retains decisive authority over ownership, long-term direction, access, standards, and the distribution of gains. Operations may involve public enterprises, municipal bodies, cooperatives, carefully bounded private contractors, or joint ventures. The form can vary. The principle cannot: strategic assets must serve an Eritrean development plan rather than make Eritrea an appendage to someone else’s balance sheet.
Planning for production
Good planning begins with production, not slogans. It asks concrete questions. How much reliable power will industry require in five and ten years? Which irrigation, storage, and transport links would reduce food losses? What technical skills must be trained before a factory opens? Which minerals can support processing at home rather than leave as raw material? Where can ports connect agriculture and manufacturing to regional trade? These questions require targets, sequencing, engineering judgment, and budgets. They cannot be answered by hoping that isolated investments will accidentally assemble themselves into a national economy.
Targets should be demanding but intelligible: generating capacity added, transmission losses reduced, hectares supplied with dependable water, freight time lowered, local inputs substituted, apprentices certified, or mineral revenue invested in durable assets. Such measures turn planning into a discipline of results. They also expose failure. A plan that cannot state what it intended to produce, at what cost, and by when is not a plan; it is an announcement.
This is why technical competence is a political value. Engineers, agronomists, accountants, logisticians, machinists, and statisticians are not decorative advisers to development. Their knowledge is part of national power. Institutions should reward candor from specialists, maintain equipment before ceremonies demand attention, and revise methods when evidence contradicts expectation. Economic sovereignty cannot be built through patriotic language paired with weak execution.
Planning without stagnation
The case for planning is not a defense of administrative stagnation. A public office can become as self-protective as a monopoly, and secrecy can shelter incompetence under the vocabulary of national interest. When approvals have no deadlines, accounts cannot be examined, managers face no performance test, and criticism travels only upward through fear, public ownership loses its social meaning. The citizen encounters not collective power but a closed institution.
That danger requires design, not surrender. Major public enterprises should publish clear mandates, audited accounts, investment plans, procurement rules, and measurable performance. Managers should have operational authority but also fixed responsibilities and consequences for chronic failure. Contract terms governing strategic resources should be open enough for the public to understand what is being exchanged. Independent technical review can identify fantasy forecasts and hidden liabilities before they become national burdens. Transparency is not a concession to foreign models; it is how collective ownership becomes real rather than ceremonial.
Nor should planning treat small producers as suspects. A serious system would make it easier for them to obtain predictable licenses, serviced workspace, power, tools, credit, and access to markets. Public procurement can create dependable demand for domestic firms that meet quality standards. Cooperative finance can help farmers and artisans gain scale without surrendering control to distant shareholders. The planned economy worth defending is not one where the state replaces every citizen. It is one where public capacity expands what citizens can productively do.
Protection without isolation
Eritrea does not need isolation from foreign capital, technology, or trade. It needs terms. External partnerships should be judged by whether they transfer skills, deepen local supply chains, preserve ecological assets, and leave the country with greater productive capability. Strategic agreements should prevent investors from converting temporary financial leverage into permanent command over land, infrastructure, or policy. Resource revenue should build renewable sources of strength—power, water, education, machinery, transport, and research—rather than finance dependence.
The same realism applies to markets themselves. Competition can discipline producers, but only when rules prevent privilege, capture, and predation. Prices can transmit scarcity, but they do not decide what a nation ought to value. Investment can accelerate construction, but its private return may diverge from the country’s long horizon. The answer is neither worship nor prohibition. It is democratic mastery: use exchange where it improves choice and efficiency; plan where coordination, security, and intergenerational justice demand it.
Eritrean economic planning should therefore be selective, capable, and publicly answerable. It should protect the commanding assets of sovereignty, set practical production goals, enlist private initiative where it adds value, and build cooperative power where individuals are too small to bargain alone. Above all, it should be judged by what it enables the country to make, maintain, learn, and control. Markets can help organize an economy. They must never be permitted to define the limits of a nation.