The Houthis, the Horn, and the Red Sea front

Long before missiles streaked across the Red Sea or drones flew into oil tankers and ships, the waters dividing Yemen from the Horn of Africa did not form a frontier, but rather a bridge. The Bab al-Mandeb Strait, a narrow seawater passage connecting the Red Sea to the Gulf of Aden, has long served as one of the world’s most critical trade routes linking the Middle East and the Horn of Africa.

Geography made interaction inevitable. Yemen’s southwestern coastline is only 30 kilometres away from Djibouti and Eritrea. Monsoon winds marauded the land each season, allowing traders, migrants and conquerors to traverse with relative ease. Already early in antiquity, the kingdoms of southern Arabia (notably Saba) had established commercial and cultural relations with the Ethiopian highlands, especially the Aksumite Empire.

By the 6th century CE, such connections became imperial. The Christian Kingdom of Aksum invaded Yemen, establishing a political presence that endured for decades. Later, Islamic expansion brought both sides of the Red Sea into a single religious and commercial order. The consequence was a hybrid zone: linguistically, culturally and economically intertwined across the Red Sea.

Over centuries, Yemeni merchants established themselves in coastal towns like Zeila and Berbera, while African workers moved into Arabian ports such as Aden and Mocha. Once again, the Red Sea was not a frontier but a highway of movement – of commodities like coffee and frankincense, and of peoples, ideas and faith between Arabia and the Horn.

Scholars identify affinities between ancient South Arabian scripts and Geʿez (used in Eritrea and Ethiopia) and debate population movements across the strait. In the 20th century, South Yemen supported Eritrean liberation movements and aligned itself with revolutionary governments in Somalia and Ethiopia. The crisis between Yemen and Eritrea over the Hanish Islands was resolved through international arbitration in 1998 – an important reminder that conflicts involving this corridor may not always end in war.

This long history matters now because it helps explain why today’s conflict in Yemen reverberates so strongly across the Horn of Africa and the Red Sea. The same seas that once ferried pilgrims and spices now ferry drones, missiles and geopolitical peril.

For more than a thousand years, Yemen’s northern highlands were governed by the Zaydi theocratic Imamate, a monarchy that rose and fell with the shifting fortunes of tribes and rival empires. Adherents of this branch of Shi’a Islam are, in many respects, closer to Sunni jurisprudence, particularly the Hanafi school, than to Twelver or Ismaili traditions.

The modern “Mutawakkilite” Kingdom of Yemen, created in 1918 with the departure of the Ottomans, maintained this clerical–tribal hybrid structure until its end.

Thirty years after Imam Yahya proclaimed independence, his son, Imam Ahmad (1948–62), inherited and entrenched a patrimonial system: loyalty was purchased through stipends and titles; rivals were co-opted, exiled, or crushed when required. The country existed in almost medieval conditions and was cut off from much of the world.

Slowly, a contemporary intelligentsia emerged through merchants, returnees from Aden and students exposed to Cairo and Beirut. Coffee, a global export out of Mocha, had long been in decline; khat cultivation and consumption became an institution of society as well as a cash crop.

In September 1962, a revolutionary group of military officers known as the Free Officers – inspired by Egyptian leader Gamal Abdel Nasser’s vision of "Nasserism" (uniting the Arab world and removing monarchs) – launched a coup in North Yemen. Led by Abdullah al-Sallal, who became the country’s first president, they overthrew the ancient Zaydi Imamate and declared the Yemen Arab Republic.

1They promised to modernize the country through education and reform, vowing to end centuries of "tyranny and backwardness." However, the deposed leader, Imam al-Badr, escaped to the northern mountains and rallied loyal tribes, triggering a brutal eight-year civil war.

The conflict quickly became a proxy war, a local fight where powerful outsiders intervene to advance their own interests. The Republicans were backed by Egypt and the Soviet bloc, while the Royalists (supporting the Imam) were primarily funded by Saudi Arabia and Jordan. Egypt's President Nasser eventually committed 70,000 troops to the fight, but the intervention became a "quagmire" and was dubbed Egypt’s Vietnam experience.

A lesser-known layer of this conflict, however, was the secret, and first intervention by Israel in another country, which was codenamed Operation Porcupine. Fearing that Nasser’s success in Yemen would create a "domino effect" of pro-Egyptian revolutions across the Middle East, Israel chose to support the Imam’s Royalist forces – the very group now fighting against Egyptian influence. Working through British mercenaries who were already on the ground, the Israeli Air Force conducted 14 secret airlifts of weapons, medicine, and money over a two-year period beginning March 31, 1964. Using massive Boeing C-97 transport planes, Israeli pilots flew through Saudi airspace at night to drop supplies directly to the Royalist tribes, effectively helping to keep Egypt "bogged down" in a costly, distracting war.

By the time Egypt withdrew in 1970, they had lost 10,000 soldiers, a drain on resources that many historians believe left Egypt fatally weakened before its defeat by Israel in the 1967 Six-Day War.

In 1967, southern Yemen gained independence from Britain and developed into the sole Marxist state in the Arab world, maintaining close ties with governments across the Red Sea and the Horn of Africa. Yemen’s two halves were united in 1990 but fell into conflict again in 1994.

From this fractured political landscape emerged the Houthis.

Also known as Ansar Allah (“Supporters of God”), the group emerged from the northern mountains of Yemen in the late 20th century. They are grounded in the Zaidi sect of Shia Islam, which, as we saw earlier, has for centuries been predominant in Yemen’s highlands.

Their origins were both religious and political. In the 1990s, a revivalist movement led by Hussein al-Houthi sought to protect Zaidi identity from the encroachment of Saudi-backed Sunni Salafism and against what supporters saw as marginalisation by the Yemeni state.

The movement became an insurgency in the early 2000s after clashes with the government of President Ali Abdullah Saleh. From 2004 to 2010, the Houthis engaged in six wars with the Yemeni military, strengthening their organisation and military capabilities. They portrayed themselves as anti-corruption reformists, defenders of Yemeni sovereignty, and opponents of U.S. and Saudi overreach. Their slogan, “Death to America, death to Israel”, was an early sign of aligning with a broader resistance narrative across the region. Gradually, they evolved into a regional power.

The crucial moment arrived in 2014–2015, when the Houthis seized Yemen’s capital, Sana’a. When the Yemeni government collapsed, what started as a domestic uprising evolved into a regional conflict when Saudi Arabia launched a military intervention in 2015.

By the late 2010s, the Houthis had become something unusual: a non-state actor with state-like control over much of northern Yemen, including stretches of the Red Sea coastline. With Iran’s support — including missiles, drones and naval capabilities — their military power expanded significantly.

The relationship between the Houthis and Iran is complex. Western governments describe the group as Iranian-backed, citing intercepted weapons shipments, shared missile and drone technology, and alignment with Tehran’s “Axis of Resistance,” which includes Hezbollah in Lebanon, militias in Iraq, and Hamas in Gaza.

The Houthis reject being called a mere surrogate, yet their alignment with Iran is clear. Unlike Hezbollah, they retain significant autonomy. Still, Iranian support, technical, logistical, and ideological, has helped elevate them into a regional actor. For Iran, this relationship provides leverage over the Red Sea. For the Houthis, it brings resources and international relevance.

The Houthis most important asset, however, is geography. They control territory overlooking the Bab al-Mandeb strait, one of the world’s most important maritime choke points linking the Red Sea to the Indian Ocean.

After the Hamas attack on Israel on October 7, 2023, the group moved onto the global stage. Within weeks, they began launching missiles and drones at Israel and targeting vessels they considered linked to Israel or its allies passing through the Red Sea. Between late 2023 and 2025 they targeted more than 100 ships. The Red Sea, a thoroughfare for roughly 10–15% of global trade, became a war zone. Shipping traffic declined sharply as companies rerouted vessels around the Cape of Good Hope, adding weeks to delivery times and increasing costs worldwide.

The United States and United Kingdom responded with airstrikes on Houthi targets in Yemen beginning in early 2024. Yet the attacks continued, demonstrating how even a non-state actor could disrupt one of the world’s most important maritime corridors.

In 2026 the situation escalated further.

Following a joint war waged by the United States and Israel on Iran on 28 February, which prompted Iranian missile strikes against Israeli targets and American bases in the Gulf, the Houthis, after a little reservation, eventually entered the war backing Iran. On March 27, 2026, they launched ballistic missiles toward southern Israel and threatened renewed attacks in the Red Sea.

Their strategic importance surged. The group could reopen the Red Sea front, turning the Bab al-Mandeb into a second global chokepoint alongside the Strait of Hormuz. A simultaneous disruption of the Red Sea–Suez corridor and the Strait of Hormuz would be a near-unprecedented shock to the global economy. These two maritime passages together sustain the flow of goods and energy between Asia, Europe and beyond.

The consequences could be particularly severe for the Horn of Africa. The region is deeply vulnerable to disruptions in Red Sea and Gulf shipping. Beyond acute fuel shortages and their economic consequences, there are also security implications. Djibouti, Eritrea and Somalia lie directly across from Yemen along vital shipping lanes dotted with foreign military bases and fragile political systems. Israel’s recent recognition of Somaliland, marking the later as an ally of Israel, also raises the possibility that the Houthi–Israel confrontation could spill closer to the Horn.

Ethiopia, which imports all of its fuel, is especially vulnerable. The country consumes more than 100,000 barrels of oil per day and spends billions annually on imported energy, much of which travels through the Red Sea.

Furthermore, Abiy Ahmed’s recent visit to the UAE, Ethiopia’s chief sponsor, amid the war on Iran may signal a quiet alignment against Tehran. According to Ethiopian opposition media, an Ethiopian cargo ship is already stranded in the Strait of Hormuz as tensions escalate. Other governments in the region, however, have largely adopted a cautious neutrality.

Shipping diversions around the Cape of Good Hope already add thousands of nautical miles to voyages and up to two weeks to delivery schedules. Rising transport costs translate into higher fuel prices, inflation and shortages across fragile economies.

Elsewhere in the Horn, the humanitarian consequences could be severe. Somalia relies heavily on imported food and fertiliser shipped through the same maritime routes. Aid agencies warn that disruptions to supply chains could deepen food insecurity across the region.

Security risks are also growing. Recent analysis points to an evolving nexus between the Houthis and armed groups in the Horn of Africa, including al-Shabaab, involving smuggling networks and possible military cooperation. Such developments raise the risks of regional spill-over conflicts, coastal militarisation and piracy.

The UAE also has seen its fortunes and bases in the region dwindling since its split with Saudi Arabia ahead of the new war, making Ethiopia its primary hub for supplying Sudan’s Rapid Support Forces.

Thus, the Red Sea is no longer merely a Middle Eastern theatre, it has become an Afro-Arab security complex linking Yemen’s war to the stability of the Horn of Africa.

If the Iran war continues or escalates, the Houthis’ role will likely expand further. Attacks on commercial vessels could intensify, potentially closing the Bab al-Mandeb. At the same time, broader coordination among Iran-aligned groups across the region could create a multi-front conflict stretching from the Mediterranean to the Red Sea.

The story of the Houthis is therefore one of transformation. From a marginalised religious movement in northern Yemen, they have emerged as the dominant force in Yemeni politics and a major actor in the geopolitics of the Red Sea.

And in the waters between Yemen and the Horn of Africa, where traders once sailed with coffee and incense, the stakes have never been higher. The Red Sea is no longer simply a commercial corridor. It has become a frontline in the conflicts shaping the twenty-first century.