Three weeks after launching an unsuccessful offensive against Ethiopian federal forces in southern Tigray, near the Amhara regional border, the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) faces a crisis that extends beyond the battlefield. Its defeat in Raya and subsequent retreat have raised serious questions about its military calculations, political cohesion and ability to sustain another prolonged conflict.

The fighting in Raya marked a turning point. Federal forces advanced rapidly, driving TPLF fighters from major towns across Tigray. Within approximately two weeks, the movement had shifted from holding urban centres to operating as a rural guerrilla force, with fighters reportedly regrouping near the Eritrean border. The speed of this reversal suggests that the TPLF either underestimated federal capabilities or overestimated its own readiness and support.

Although its leadership hopes to mount a counteroffensive, the circumstances differ substantially from those of the 2020–2022 war. Retreating into rural strongholds previously allowed Tigrayan forces to reorganise and eventually recapture territory. Repeating that strategy would require public cooperation, internal unity, supplies and a political narrative capable of mobilising an exhausted population.

Those conditions appear considerably weaker today.

According to information Wazema obtained from multiple US diplomatic sources, Washington increasingly views the TPLF as a separatist movement rather than a legitimate political interlocutor. The same sources indicate that five other armed groups—including Fano and the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA)—that joined the TPLF-led alliance are also receiving closer US scrutiny. US Secretary of State Marco Rubio reportedly echoed that characterisation over the weekend, describing the TPLF and its allies as separatist groups. Taken together, these accounts suggest a less favourable diplomatic environment for the movement, although such descriptions should be distinguished from formal US legal designations.

The TPLF’s recent statements threatening civilian airports and the continued provision of basic public services could deepen its isolation. Such threats risk alienating civilians whose support it needs and strengthening the federal government’s argument that the movement is pursuing an insurgency at the population’s expense. They also make it harder for international actors to advocate engagement with the group.

The federal government, meanwhile, appears more attentive to the diplomatic dimension of the conflict. Alongside its military advances, it has sought to strengthen its international position and frame its campaign around restoring state authority and maintaining public services. Whether that advantage endures will depend partly on its conduct, particularly the protection of civilians and humanitarian access.

For the TPLF, internal divisions compound the military and diplomatic setbacks. Fractures within its political and military leadership weaken coordination, while declining popular support and the region’s worsening humanitarian crisis constrain recruitment and mobilisation. A population still carrying the losses of the previous war may have less willingness and fewer resources to sustain another campaign.

The TPLF nevertheless retains the capacity to fight. Its organisational experience and knowledge of Tigray’s terrain could sustain a prolonged insurgency. Military survival, however, would not necessarily restore political legitimacy or popular backing. Its ability to contest territory may outlast its ability to persuade the population that renewed warfare offers a viable future.

After five decades, the TPLF may be approaching the end of its role as Tigray’s dominant political force, even if it survives militarily. A turn towards independence would introduce further complications rather than resolve its immediate predicament. Its future will depend on whether its leadership can develop a credible political strategy before continued warfare further erodes the constituency it claims to represent.