The Impunity Assembly Line: Ethiopia’s Five-Star Manufacturing of Misery

By Sewasew Teklemariam an Ethiopian Tribune Columnist

Here we are again, dear readers, clutching our copies of the US State Department’s 2024 Country Report on Human Rights Practices in Ethiopia like seasoned theatre critics watching the same tragic play for the fifth consecutive year. The script remains remarkably unchanged: extrajudicial killings, mass displacement, arbitrary detention, torture, sexual violence as a weapon of war, and the suffocation of civic space. One might admire the consistency if it weren’t so thoroughly depressing.

But let’s give credit where it’s due Ethiopia has achieved something remarkable in the realm of governance innovation. Whilst other nations struggle with the messy unpredictability of democracy, Ethiopia has perfected what we might call the “Impunity Assembly Line” a sophisticated manufacturing process that transforms human suffering into political capital with Swiss-watch precision.

The obvious questions practically write themselves: How exactly does a government maintain international legitimacy whilst systematically violating every principle of human decency? What kind of diplomatic gymnastics does it take to call a regime “transitional” when it’s transitioning from one form of repression to another? And most perplexingly, how long will Western governments continue writing cheques to underwrite this grotesque performance?

The answers, it seems, lie not in Ethiopian exceptionalism but in the banal mechanics of international realpolitik. Ethiopia hosts refugees (convenient), cooperates on counterterrorism (strategic), and sits in a geopolitically sensitive region (essential). Human rights, in this calculus, become a luxury good nice to have, but hardly essential for maintaining diplomatic relations.

To understand the current administration’s achievements, we must appreciate the foundation laid by its predecessors. The Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF), which ruled from 1991 to 2019, was no amateur in the art of authoritarian governance. Human Rights Watch documented in 2010 how “the Ethiopian government uses donor-supported resources and aid as a tool to consolidate the power of the ruling Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front.”

The EPRDF perfected what we might call “Development Authoritarianism” a model where impressive GDP growth statistics provided cover for systematic political repression. Under this system, dissent was not merely discouraged but economically punished through the weaponisation of development aid and access to government services. Opposition supporters found themselves mysteriously excluded from food aid programmes, their children denied school enrolment, their businesses subjected to selective tax enforcement.

But the EPRDF, for all its faults, maintained a certain ideological coherence. The Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF), as the dominant partner in the coalition, had emerged from a genuine liberation struggle and retained some connection to revolutionary principles, however corrupted by power. They built infrastructure, maintained relative stability, and even showed occasional restraint in their violence.

Enter Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed and his Prosperity Party, who looked at the EPRDF’s model and thought, “This is far too predictable.” Why settle for mere authoritarianism when you can have performative democracy seasoned with periodic genocide? The current administration has innovated beyond its predecessors in several key areas. Where the EPRDF preferred targeted repression, the current government has embraced wholesale warfare against multiple regions simultaneously. The Tigray conflict alone resulted in between 300,000 and 800,000 civilian deaths. The EPRDF’s worst excesses pale in comparison to this industrial-scale carnage.

Where the EPRDF managed ethnic tensions through a federal system, the current government has weaponised ethnic identity as a tool of division and control. The constitutional promise of ethnic federalism has become a mechanism for “divide and conquer” governance. The EPRDF made little effort to charm international audiences, relying instead on economic growth and regional stability to maintain external support. Abiy’s government, by contrast, has perfected the art of diplomatic theatre winning Nobel Peace Prizes whilst conducting wars, promising reforms whilst deepening repression.

Ethiopia’s “Impunity Assembly Line” has not developed in isolation. It represents a refinement of authoritarian techniques pioneered elsewhere and adapted to local conditions. Like Russia, Ethiopia has mastered the art of maintaining electoral façades whilst ensuring predetermined outcomes. The State Department notes “enforced disappearances of prominent figures critical of the government, including political commentators, former military officers, investigative journalists.” This selective elimination of opposition voices mirrors tactics perfected in Putin’s Russia.

Paul Kagame’s Rwanda provides the template for “development authoritarianism”, impressive economic statistics that provide cover for political repression. Ethiopia has attempted to replicate this model but lacks Rwanda’s administrative competence, resulting in the worst of both worlds: economic stagnation with political brutality. Perhaps most ominously, Ethiopia has adopted Bashar al-Assad’s approach of treating civilian populations in rebellious regions as legitimate military targets. The use of starvation as a weapon of war, the systematic targeting of hospitals and schools, and the deployment of sexual violence as a tool of ethnic cleansing all echo Syrian tactics.

The international community’s muted response to Myanmar’s persecution of the Rohingya provided a blueprint for managing international criticism during ethnic cleansing. Ethiopia has learnt these lessons well, timing its worst atrocities during global crises when international attention is elsewhere.

The current government has perfected what might be called “Crisis Capitalism”—a political economy where perpetual emergency becomes a source of power rather than a problem to be solved. Wars in Tigray, Oromia, and Amhara are not policy failures but features of the system. Consider the mathematics of Ethiopian militarisation: Heavy fighting in the Amhara region has resulted in “hundreds killed and injured, including children and refugees, and damage to civilian property and infrastructure such as hospitals.” Each destroyed hospital represents a community made more dependent on government provision. Each displaced family becomes a potential vote to be bought with emergency aid.

The war economy serves multiple functions: it justifies emergency powers that override constitutional protections; it creates lucrative procurement opportunities for politically connected businesses; it provides employment for young men who might otherwise join opposition movements; and it generates refugee flows that can be leveraged for international sympathy and aid.

As Ethiopia approaches its next electoral cycle, let’s game out the possibilities with the analytical rigour they deserve. Picture this: opposition parties allowed to compete in carefully circumscribed spaces, international observers invited to witness a “free and fair” electoral process where the outcome was determined months in advance. Think Russia’s elections, but with more colourful traditional dress and fewer oligarchs. The ruling party wins 80-85% of seats enough to demonstrate “popularity” whilst maintaining plausible deniability about electoral manipulation.

Alternatively, the Ethiopian National Defence Force, having tasted political power during years of continuous warfare, decides civilian governance is overrated. A military council emerges, but with a civilian face for international consumption. Think Myanmar’s State Administration Council, but with better press management and more effective international lobbying.

Regional conflicts could escalate to the point where elections become “impossible to conduct safely.” Emergency rule becomes normalised, with periodic promises to return to democratic governance once “stability is restored.” The emergency, of course, never ends because the government continuously creates new crises to justify its continuation. International debt obligations might become unsustainable, austerity measures trigger mass protests, and the government responds with increasing violence. Plans to eliminate fuel subsidies and expand value-added taxes could provide the spark for widespread social unrest, giving the government the pretext for even more repressive measures.

Tigray’s political representation has been “absent for nearly five years,” and separatist sentiment grows across multiple regions. The government responds to calls for independence with military force, triggering a cascading series of secession movements and potentially the complete collapse of the Ethiopian state. The most likely outcome? A toxic combination of all scenarios, producing a political system that makes Game of Thrones look like a documentary about good governance.

Here’s where the story becomes truly absurd: none of this happens in isolation. The “Impunity Assembly Line” operates not despite international support, but because of it. Western governments continue providing budgetary support, debt relief, and diplomatic legitimacy whilst expressing “concern” about human rights violations. It’s like watching someone pour petrol on a fire whilst simultaneously calling the fire brigade.

The rationale is always the same: “We need to engage constructively,” “Change comes from within,” “We can’t abandon the Ethiopian people.” These phrases have become diplomatic comfort food, meaningless platitudes that make policymakers feel better about their complicity in systematic atrocities.

The US State Department’s document suggests that dismantling Ethiopia’s “Impunity Machine” would require “conditioning financial assistance on verifiable human rights benchmarks” and “supporting genuinely independent electoral and judicial institutions.” This prescription assumes that Western governments actually want to see meaningful change in Ethiopia rather than simply managing the appearance of concern.

The uncomfortable truth is that the current system serves Western interests quite well. Ethiopia absorbs refugees that might otherwise seek asylum in Europe or North America. It provides a platform for counterterrorism operations in the Horn of Africa. It offers a façade of partnership in addressing regional security challenges. Actually enforcing human rights conditionality would risk disrupting these convenient arrangements. It might lead to messy outcomes that are harder to manage than the current predictable dysfunction.

Ethiopia under its current leadership has achieved something remarkable: the complete separation of democratic language from democratic practice. It has created a system where elections exist without choice, reforms are announced without implementation, and international partnerships flourish without accountability. This is governance as performance art, a sophisticated theatrical production designed for international audiences whilst the real business of power operates behind closed curtains. The State Department’s annual reports serve as unwitting reviews of this ongoing performance, documenting each year’s variations on the same tragic themes.

The question facing the international community is not whether Ethiopia’s government respects human rights the evidence is overwhelming that it does not. The question is whether Western governments have the political will to prioritise human rights over strategic convenience. Based on five years of evidence, the answer appears to be a resounding “no.” The assembly line will continue operating, the annual reports will continue documenting its output, and diplomats will continue expressing concern whilst signing aid agreements.

In Ethiopia’s ongoing tragedy, the international community is not merely an audience, it’s an essential supporting actor in the performance. And like any good theatrical production, the show must go on. Cry Ethiopia!