In the grand spectacle of diplomatic tourism, few visits have generated as much curiosity and comic relief as Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed’s recent trip to Mogadishu. Standing regally on a balcony, beaming at the horizon, and waving enthusiastically to the crashing waves, I wonder—was he greeting the ocean or attempting to charm it into submission?

For a man who has ignited fierce debate over Ethiopia’s need for a coastline, this visit seemed less about access to the sea and more about access to see. With Ethiopia landlocked and Somalia fiercely territorial, Abiy’s trip was equal parts a diplomatic dance and a political pantomime. He waved, he smiled, and in that moment, the sea remained just as distant as Ethiopia’s maritime ambitions. If dreams of access to the ocean could be achieved through enthusiastic hand gestures, then surely, Abiy Ahmed is halfway there.

Abiy Ahmed’s “Access to Sea” rhetoric has stirred regional unease, particularly in Somalia, where sovereignty is a national obsession. Ethiopia’s push for a seaport deal has been met with suspicion, yet here was the Prime Minister, surveying Mogadishu’s crowded Lido Beach as if he were an admiral inspecting his future naval fleet. Was he admiring the coastline or calculating potential trade routes?

The waves continued their rhythmic indifference, lapping at the shore as if to remind him: “You may look, but you shall not touch.” For Somalia, this was the latest episode in a geopolitical soap opera where Ethiopia, a landlocked nation, appears to be window shopping for an ocean. It’s like a man standing outside a luxury car dealership, admiring a Ferrari while jingling the coins in his pocket. The ambition is there, but the purchase? That remains in the realm of wishful thinking.

Adding to the absurdity was the sheer political theater of it all. Here was a leader whose country has actively courted tension with Somalia’s government over access to ports, now waving like a benevolent neighbor while thousands of Mogadishu residents enjoyed their weekend by the sea. Was this a charm offensive, an optical illusion, or just a particularly photogenic moment in Ethiopia-Somalia relations? Whatever it was, it was clear the waves were not waving back.

The visit showcased a unique style of diplomacy—one that doesn’t necessarily bring new agreements or concrete outcomes, but rather serves as a well-choreographed spectacle of leadership. A performance where presence is the message, and a wave can mean both an overture and a provocation, depending on who is watching.

One has to admire the sheer innovation of Abiy Ahmed’s foreign policy approach—why negotiate a deal when you can simply stand on a balcony and manifest a coastline into existence? It’s the ultimate soft power strategy—wave at the ocean enough times and hope it moves closer. This is diplomacy redefined, where wishing upon a wave replaces actual maritime agreements. His visit to Mogadishu, though wrapped in the usual diplomatic pleasantries, was a masterclass in passive-aggressive ambition. Ethiopia has long sought a strategic access point to the sea, a dream that has only become more intense as regional economic competition heightens. But instead of unveiling a concrete agreement, Abiy Ahmed unveiled his best balcony wave—a spectacle that was simultaneously a declaration of intent and a confession of limitation.

Somali officials, ever the masters of diplomatic poker faces, played along. They welcomed their Ethiopian guest with ceremonial handshakes and vague statements about regional cooperation, but behind closed doors, the message was likely clearer: “Enjoy the view, but the ocean stays where it is.”

For Somalia, this visit was a test of patience. A country that has fiercely guarded its sovereignty for decades was now hosting a leader whose hints about securing access to the sea have raised more eyebrows than actual policy documents. The hospitality was extended, but the territorial waters remained firmly within the hands of Somalis. If Abiy Ahmed thought a warm reception in Mogadishu meant a step closer to Ethiopia’s maritime ambitions, he may have to rethink his strategy of diplomacy by osmosis. One does not simply wave at an ocean and expect it to change its legal status.

At the end of the day, Abiy Ahmed’s visit to Mogadishu was not about maritime negotiations—it was about optics. The sea is still there. Ethiopia is still landlocked. Somalis are still fiercely protective of thier coastline. But in the world of political theater, sometimes a well-timed wave can mean everything and nothing at the same time. Whether this visit marks a genuine effort to improve relations or just another chapter in Ethiopia’s long-standing maritime wish list remains to be seen. But one thing is certain: Mogadishu’s coastline remains as untouchable as ever, no matter how many times it is waved at.

By Hassan Yusuf
Email: hyusufka@gmail.com