The making and unmaking of Yemen unity over half a century

For decades, two separate states - North and South Yemen - existed side-by-side, until the Cold War ended. Suddenly, the two came together. For a brief moment, united Yemen prospered.

Yemeni men celebrate their country's 10th anniversary of unity by dancing 19 May 2000 in Tahrir Square in the heart of Sana'a.
Khaled Fazaa/AFP
Yemeni men celebrate their country's 10th anniversary of unity by dancing 19 May 2000 in Tahrir Square in the heart of Sana'a.

The making and unmaking of Yemen unity over half a century

After a long and painful labour, Yemeni unity emerged into the world just over a quarter of a century ago, on 22 May 1990, after a tumultuous period marked by wars, revolutions, crises, moral desiccation, and deep hostility and rancour between the two regimes that ruled the country’s divided halves.

When unity finally arrived, Yemenis had got used to fear, imprisonment, and displacement, within a global context shaped by the Cold War and the stark polarisation of Soviet-aligned socialist camps and capitalist economies aligned with the West. Yet despite the agreements and preparations that preceded it, the unification of North and South Yemen unfolded with striking suddenness.

Fate seemed to hasten the realisation of this historic dream, achieved through a bold decision and a genuine national will, with the international order in flux following the dissolution of the Soviet Union. The dual forces of surprise and speed left a mixed legacy, producing both gains and vulnerabilities that shaped the course of unity: from concord, to tension, and ultimately to war triggered by secessionist efforts in 1994. The consequences of that conflict continue to cast a long, tragic shadow.

Hunger drives change

From the 1940s, Yemen’s intellectual and political elites had concluded that unity was the sole means of reassembling a fragmented society, mobilising its energies, and pooling its resources. They also realised that it was the most viable framework for managing internal differences within a pluralistic political and social order.

The chance came in the late 1980s. The Soviet Union—the main ally of the socialist South, based in Aden—was already disintegrating and approaching collapse. Leftist governments all over the world that had been dependent on Soviet support suddenly found themselves exposed and uncertain, confronting the prospect of a US-dominated unipolar world. Former Southern socialist leader Ali Salem al-Beidh recently spoke with striking candour about conditions in the South at the time, the political system he once led, and what drove him toward unification.

AFP
Supporters of the Yemeni Socialist Party near a checkpoint in Aden on 2 February 1986.

“In South Yemen, we depended entirely on the Soviet Union,” he said. “It fed us and gave us drink. When it collapsed, we suddenly found ourselves the largest concentration of poor people in the world. We knocked on every door, but all were closed, because we were Marxists. So, we turned to our brothers in Sana’a and asked to unite with them so that we might live and secure a morsel of bread. It is true that Yemeni unity was a major popular demand, but poverty, hunger, and debts exceeding $12bn were the principal drivers of the merger.”

A meeting of minds

In Sana’a, President Ali Abdullah Saleh had reached a similar conclusion: that the country’s escape from accumulating crises both North and South lay in unity. Fate aligned the two men’s compasses, though few knew how it would converge. Saleh began to send signals, but they were ambiguous, even to close aides. Over time, however, they grew clearer.

Returning from an Arab Cooperation Council summit—which convened Iraq, Egypt, Jordan, and Yemen—he spoke with unusual frankness. “If our country unites, we can command greater weight within the council and benefit more from it.” Later, it emerged that Saleh was in contact with al-Beidh, seeking a clear understanding before placing the matter before their respective parties in Sana’a and Aden.

Finally, after several unity agreements signed over preceding decades by leaders of North and South Yemen, al‑Beidh and Saleh concluded the historic Aden Accord of 30 November 1989. It seemed almost miraculous. The atmosphere shifted dramatically, coinciding with the anniversary of the final British soldier’s departure from Aden in 1967.

Meeting in a tunnel

Saleh had arrived with a sizeable delegation of advisers, accompanied by more than 400 armed soldiers poised for any disruption should agreement prove elusive. At a crucial point, both leaders withdrew from deliberations with their senior aides. Al‑Beidh, taking the wheel himself, drove them towards the Gold Mohur tunnel. There, they instructed their guards to secure both entrances and prevent any passage, allowing them to negotiate privately.

AFP
Yemeni President Ali Abdullah Saleh (R) and his deputy Ali Salem al-Beidh, in Sana'a on 25 April 1993.

No-one knows what they discussed, but the outcome soon became evident. The leaders returned to the Supreme Presidential Council building in Tawahi and summoned their ministers, instructing them to produce draft agreements for signature. To the astonishment of all, they signed an historic accord proclaiming Yemeni unity and outlining the terms of the transitional phase. It laid the groundwork for a single Yemeni state, with Saleh as president, al-Beidh as vice-president, and a draft constitution drafted years earlier, in 1981.

Al‑Beidh drove them to the Gold Mohur tunnel, where they instructed their guards to secure both entrances and prevent any passage, allowing them to negotiate privately. No-one knows what they discussed

The country witnessed an unprecedented opening between its two halves. Movement between North and South became seamless, requiring only personal identity cards rather than passports or security clearances. Trade surged into southern cities, laws harmonised, unions and public institutions integrated, and the fabric of national unity began to take shape well before its official declaration. Still, apprehension lingered in Sana'a and Aden over whether Washington might object to the merger of the semi‑liberal North with the Marxist South.

A new state is born

From 23-26 January 1990, Saleh made the first state visit to Washington of a Yemeni president, entering the White House through its grandest doors. How this came about is still a mystery. Two key figures may have had a hand in it, these being Yemen's then deputy prime minister and foreign minister Abdul Karim al‑Iryani, and Ray Hunt of Hunt Oil Company, which had rights to explore and extract oil in the Safer field of Marib. Through family ties with former US president George H. W. Bush, he had even attended the ceremony marking the commencement of oil exports from Marib in 1986.

Georges Bendrihem/AFP
Picture released on 1 November 1991 of Yemeni President Ali Abdullah Saleh in Sana'a.

It was on the strength of this background that Saleh journeyed to Washington to reassure the White House that Yemeni unity was aimed solely at reorganising Yemen's internal affairs in the post-Cold War era. He sought their endorsement and assistance in tempering regional anxieties over the emergence of a unified Yemeni state.

Yet from the earliest weeks after the proclamation of Yemeni unity, troubles emerged. The new state's administrative apparatus swelled beyond its financial capacity, weighed down by mismanagement and corruption. With unity came the declaration of political pluralism, ending decades of prohibition, clandestine activity, and harsh repression of party life in the North, and the monopoly of single‑party rule in the South.

At this juncture, Islamists withdrew from the General People's Congress led by President Saleh. At his suggestion, they joined other Islamic currents and businessmen to form the Yemeni Congregation for Reform, known as al‑Islah. In accordance with the unity agreement and its transitional framework, a popular referendum was required on the draft constitution, completed 20 years earlier. Yet al‑Islah, the rising new force, opposed the document vehemently, demanding amendment of a key article to state explicitly that Islam was the sole source of legislation.

Trouble brewing

In the referendum held nationwide on 22 May 1991, coinciding with the first anniversary of unity, Yemenis approved the constitution of the unified state by an overwhelming majority. The following year, however, a severe financial and economic crisis erupted. Remittances from Yemeni workers in the Gulf were cut off, and more than two million returned home after Yemen's controversial stance on Iraq's 1990 invasion of Kuwait.

AFP
Yemeni tribal leaders meet to reach a peace agreement in Mukalla, Yemen on 5 July 1994.

Arab aid dwindled, and the US threatened to suspend its annual $60mn in aid. Economic and fiscal pressures deepened, and Yemen experienced a political crisis in 1992, when the leaders of the ruling parties—the GPC and the Socialist Party—began to blame one another for straining relations with Gulf states and the United States.

Southern leaders had insisted that unity be accompanied by political pluralism, betting on victory in the first democratic elections. Their confidence rested on the Socialist Party's organisational base in both North and South and its relatively cleaner record. Saleh and his northern allies accepted pluralism, reassured by their dominance in populous regions, the army, and tribal institutions.

The transitional period set by the unity agreement was extended by another year, in hopes of better preparing for Yemen's first multiparty parliamentary elections on 27 April 1993. Initial results placed the GPC first, followed by al‑Islah, with the Socialists third. The Socialists questioned the fairness of the elections. A tripartite coalition was thus formed, bringing together the GPC, al‑Islah, and the Socialists.

Seeking a bridge

Neither the GPC nor the Socialists could govern comfortably with a third partner, and difficulties mounted. Al‑Beidh's repeated withdrawals to Aden, and his party's inability to act decisively in his absence, compounded the paralysis. On one occasion he returned to Aden instead of Sana'a following a mysterious visit to the US, where he met Vice President Al Gore without the presence of Yemen's ambassador, Mohsen al‑Aini.

At a press conference in Paris, al‑Beidh spoke of the deepening mistrust between himself, President Saleh, and al‑Islah's leadership, warning of trouble ahead. Socialist Party newspapers vilified Saleh, blaming him for the country's decline, and branding him corrupt, ignorant, and nepotistic. Senior politicians from both North and South sought to mediate, urging al‑Beidh to end his time in Aden and find a peaceful resolution.

AFP
Yemeni President Ali Abdullah Saleh delivers a speech to his supporters in Taiz, 170km south of Sana'a, on 9 September 1999.

A committee representing all parties drafted a national document redefining presidential powers, giving greater authority to the vice president. King Hussein of Jordan sponsored the effort, hosting a ceremony in Amman on 17 February 1994, to sign what became known as the Document of Pledge and Accord. Yet the skies were darkening.

On the eve of the signing, the king emerged with Saleh and al‑Beidh, but it was immediately evident that the encounter had been fraught. The atmosphere was tense, as the two men exchanged pointed warnings and veiled threats. The following day, after the accord was signed, al‑Beidh delivered a speech that struck a discordant tone. Far from conciliatory, it raised old grievances wholly unsuited to the spirit of the occasion.

The road to war

The following day Saleh returned to Sana'a, but the Socialist leaders stopped off at several Gulf capitals on their way back to Aden. It soon became clear that all the mediation and dialogue surrounding the document had been to buy time. Beneath the surface, both sides were preparing for war.

By early May 1994, the precise hour of battle seemed almost irrelevant, nor did it matter who fired the first shot, clashes having erupted in both the North and the South between Saleh loyalists and Socialist supporters since April.

It soon became clear that all the mediation and dialogue surrounding the document had been to buy time. Beneath the surface, both sides were preparing for war

Before the declaration of unity, military units from both camps had been redeployed into territories controlled by the other—a measure intended at the time to prevent either party from reneging on the unity agreement. Yet when war finally erupted, this arrangement resulted in a tangled and chaotic overlap in the rules of engagement between the two sides.

The war of 1994 concluded with Saleh's decisive dismantling of the Socialist Party's military capacity. Most of its leaders fled to countries ranging from Djibouti and Oman to Egypt, Syria, and Britain. Suddenly, Saleh seemed to be without serious rivals or opposition. He became convinced that Yemen's modern history began on 7 July 1994—the day his forces swept into Aden. It signalled a new phase of his rule, one marked by political and financial corruption that ultimately culminated in his admission of failing governance at a Friends of Yemen meeting in London in early 2010.

Signs of collapse

Saleh had increasingly entrusted power to family members and close confidants, particularly within the military and security apparatus. Some viewed this as a prelude to hereditary succession: his son Ahmed was appointed commander of the Republican Guard, while his nephew Yahya assumed leadership of the Central Security and counterterrorism forces. This centralisation of power was facilitated by generous US military and financial aid for Yemen to help it fight al‑Qaeda.

Khaled Abdullah/Reuters
President Ali Abdullah Saleh reviews the honour guards during a military parade in Sanaa on 21 May 2009 to mark the 19th anniversary of Yemen's Unity.Day.

Yet protests were erupting across southern cities under the banner of the Southern Movement, demanding redress for the injustices inflicted by the 1994 war. Opposition to the expanding influence of Saleh's family mounted, denouncing the spectre of dynastic succession and calling for free, democratic elections. Meanwhile, the regime became entangled in a series of wars against Houthi rebels in the North, a campaign that drained state resources and accelerated its economic decline.

Signs of collapse multiplied. Donor nations, along with international financial institutions, began to hesitate in extending aid, citing a lack of transparency and entrenched corruption. By 2011, there were widespread protests demanding Saleh's resignation. These culminated in the Houthi takeover of Sana'a and the seizure of power, followed by a conflict in which an Arab coalition led by Saudi Arabia intervened.

Yemen's unravelling

The war against the Houthis dragged on for nearly a decade, sustained by a confluence of internal, regional, and international dynamics. Over time, the anti-Houthi camp fractured. The Southern Transitional Council seized control of most of the South and secession calls grew. Saleh retained popularity and respect in the region, where many remembered with gratitude the development under his rule: a construction boom, new road networks, improved public services, and a sense of progress.

Reuters
Forces of Yemen's main separatist group, the Southern Transitional Council, arrive in a mountainous area where they are launching a military operation in the southern province of Abyan, Yemen, December 15, 2025.

By contrast, Yemen today endures a profound national crisis. Unless salvation emerges through the wisdom of its people, the coming months and years may usher in further collapse, a culmination of decades of failure and the faltering trajectory of unity. Yemen's current unity unlikely to endure unless a new social contract is forged and concerted efforts made to rebuild a unified state, with a cohesive army, and a future that guarantees the rights and interests of all Yemenis. It is no small ask.

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