The Amhara Question: How Washington’s Calculations Leave Ethiopia’s Forgotten Community in the Shadows

As Ethiopia joins BRICS and Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed cultivates closer ties with the UAE and Gulf powers, two Ethiopian scholars debate whether American silence on Amhara suffering reflects deliberate policy or the cold arithmetic of geopolitical necessity

Addis Ababa — On a windy afternoon in the Ethiopian capital, Dr Alemayehu Gebre spreads declassified State Department cables across a café table near Meskel Square. The political historian has spent years tracing what he sees as a pattern in American engagement with the Horn of Africa, one that stretches from Henry Kissinger’s Cold War doctrines to today’s cautious statements about ongoing violence in Ethiopia’s Amhara region.

When American diplomats pose for photographs with Ethiopian officials, or when passionate statements emerge from Washington about atrocities in Tigray but near silence on mass killings in Amhara communities, Alemayehu sees more than negligence. “This isn’t accident,” he says, his voice measured but insistent. “It’s architecture. From Kissinger onwards, there’s been a structural willingness to sacrifice Ethiopian communities, particularly Amhara, on the altar of what they call ‘regional stability’.”

Across the table, Dr Senait Woldemichael shakes her head. The two colleagues have been having this argument for months, their disagreement capturing a broader debate amongst Ethiopian intellectuals about whether the Amhara, historically associated with Ethiopian statehood and once dominant in the country’s politics, are victims of deliberate marginalisation or simply caught in the ruthless arithmetic of superpower strategy.

“The Americans aren’t plotting against anyone,” Senait argues, her tone frank. “They’re doing what great powers always do pursuing interests, not principles. That’s damning enough without inventing elaborate schemes.” She pauses to sip her macchiato. “But to understand where we are now, you have to understand where this started.”

The roots of today’s American approach to Ethiopia lie in the Cold War era, both scholars agree. Declassified documents from the 1950s through the 1970s, available through the US Office of the Historian, paint an unromantic picture of American engagement with imperial Ethiopia under Haile Selassie. Washington’s support centred on anti-Soviet containment, access to communications facilities like Kagnew Station in Eritrea, and securing a reliable African partner in international forums. Ethiopia mattered because it served American interests, not because policymakers harboured affection for its ancient civilisation or unity.

“They valued Ethiopia as an anti-Soviet asset,” Alemayehu explains, photocopied documents now scattered between coffee cups. “The minute that calculation changed after 1974, their commitment evaporated. The Ethiopian state strongly identified with Amhara elites then was disposable.” Nowhere in those documents does one find romantic attachment to Ethiopian unity or Amhara civilisation. Instead, the language speaks of “assets”, “alliances”, and “influence”.

Senait counters that this merely reflects how alliance politics function. “The British didn’t maintain their empire out of love either. Criticising realism for being realistic is pointless. The question is whether current US policy actively harms Amhara, or merely ignores them.” After the Derg’s 1974 revolution tilted Ethiopia towards Moscow, US military aid dried up and the Horn became a proxy battlefield. American policy didn’t fundamentally shift in character, Alemayehu argues it simply reversed the roles, viewing Somalia and other regional actors as counterweights rather than Ethiopia itself.

What both scholars note as absent from these documents is any principled concern for Ethiopia’s territorial integrity or any specific community. That absence, Alemayehu insists, becomes increasingly significant as the decades progress. With the Soviet Union’s collapse, Ethiopia’s strategic value transformed. The 1990s brought a new framework: counter-terrorism and regional stability under the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front, dominated by the Tigray People’s Liberation Front.

US policy documents from this era emphasise Ethiopia’s role as an African peacekeeping powerhouse and counter-terrorism partner against groups like al-Shabaab, whilst providing substantial development assistance in health, agriculture, and governance. “The rhetoric was democracy and human rights,” Senait observes. “The practice was backing an authoritarian system because it delivered security cooperation. That’s hypocrisy, certainly, but it’s not targeted at Amhara specifically.”

Alemayehu disagrees sharply. During EPRDF rule, Amhara dissent was met with violence and repression, yet American aid flowed regardless. In US texts, Ethiopia was treated as a unitary partner even as the government implemented what many saw as ethnocratic policies. “That erasure is itself a form of targeting,” he insists. The starkest divergence in their analysis concerns recent events, particularly the shifting geopolitical landscape that has emerged since Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed came to power in 2018.

Ethiopia’s entry into BRICS in January 2024, alongside Egypt, Iran, and the United Arab Emirates, has complicated Washington’s calculus in ways both scholars find significant, if for different reasons. The expanded bloc now represents nearly half the world’s population and accounts for roughly 30% of global GDP, creating what some analysts describe as a “non-Western” rather than explicitly “anti-Western” counterweight to established international institutions.

“Ethiopia’s BRICS membership came at a crucial moment,” Alemayehu notes. “After the Tigray war left the country under Western pressure, Abiy turned to China, Russia, and Gulf nations. Washington watched him cultivate these relationships and recalibrated.” The Ethiopian government, facing billions of dollars in war damage and international sanctions including removal from the African Growth and Opportunity Act, had few alternatives. BRICS membership offered access to development finance, technology transfer from China and India, and a platform for Global South solidarity that didn’t come with Western human rights conditionality.

Yet what concerns Alemayehu most isn’t BRICS membership itself, but what he sees as Washington’s selective engagement with the forces now shaping Ethiopian politics. The relationship between Abiy Ahmed’s Prosperity Party and the United Arab Emirates has become particularly close since 2018, raising questions about how external influences affect both Ethiopian domestic policy and American responses to it.

Reports from Ethiopian media outlets and regional analysts describe the UAE supplying drones to Abiy’s government during the civil war, whilst pursuing 115 major investment projects across Ethiopia. The relationship between Abiy and UAE President Sheikh Mohamed bin Zayed has been characterised in some Ethiopian press as remarkably personal, with the two leaders referring to each other as “my brother”. One analysis suggested Abiy had performed a ritual declaring allegiance to the Emirati crown prince, though such claims remain difficult to verify.

What’s undeniable is the UAE’s expanding footprint in Ethiopia’s economy and infrastructure. When Abiy announced a $15 billion palace project in Addis Ababa and refused to reveal the funding source to parliament, speculation focused on Gulf money. The UAE’s interests extend beyond economics; some Ethiopian observers note Emirati lobbying regarding the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam negotiations with Egypt, another country now in both Ethiopia’s BRICS cohort and the UAE’s sphere of influence.

“This is where American silence on Amhara becomes particularly revealing,” Alemayehu argues. “Washington needs Abiy as a counter-terrorism partner and regional stabiliser. The UAE is a long-standing American ally in the Gulf, despite growing ties with China. Both are now deeply invested in Ethiopia’s trajectory. Acknowledging systematic violence against Amhara would force uncomfortable questions about who’s committing it and why American partners aren’t stopping it.”

Senait finds this analysis too conspiratorial. “The UAE is hedging its bets, joining BRICS whilst maintaining its defence partnership with America. Ethiopia is doing the same. That’s not a conspiracy against Amhara it’s small powers trying to navigate between competing great powers.” She points out that the UAE’s foreign minister explicitly stated that BRICS membership wouldn’t damage relations with the West, and that countries like Egypt and Ethiopia joined BRICS precisely because they want options, not because they’re abandoning Western engagement entirely.

During the 2020-2022 Tigray conflict, Washington issued explicit statements about Tigrayan suffering, imposed sanctions, and removed Ethiopia from preferential trade status. Recent reports document killings and displacement in Amhara areas, yet US State Department statements typically avoid ethnic specificity when discussing these incidents. “Tigrayans were recognised as victims of siege and starvation,” Alemayehu says. “Oromo political elites are engaged as reformers and necessary partners. But Amhara civilians, victims of massacres, displacement, and detention, are folded into vague language about ‘all communities’ and ‘all parties’. We’re never named.”

Senait acknowledges the disparity but attributes it to advocacy and media attention rather than deliberate policy. “Tigrayans had well-organised diaspora networks and strong media coverage. That’s not a conspiracy, it’s political mobilisation. Amhara communities need to build similar infrastructure.” She adds that the complexity of Ethiopia’s current situation, with the Prosperity Party trying to move away from ethnic federalism whilst Abiy balances relationships with the UAE, China, Russia, and the West, creates difficult choices for American policymakers.

“Washington doesn’t want Ethiopia to fragment Yugoslavia-style,” she explains. “They don’t want it tilting entirely toward China or becoming another Somalia. So they engage with whoever’s in charge, which right now is Abiy and the Prosperity Party. That means tolerating things they’d rather not tolerate.” That cold calculation, Alemayehu responds, is precisely the problem. “Whether you call it conspiracy or convenience, the result is the same. Amhara are dying in substantial numbers and Washington barely acknowledges it.”

Some Ethiopian commentators claim Kissinger authored explicit plans to dismantle Ethiopia and target Amhara as obstacles to Western interests. Alemayehu considers this emotionally powerful but analytically imprecise. “There’s no declassified directive saying ‘destroy Ethiopia’ or ‘attack Amhara’,” he concedes. “But Kissinger normalised something more insidious a framework where states are chess pieces, stability trumps human rights, and allies’ internal crimes are negotiable. Apply that logic across decades, and add in new complications like BRICS and UAE influence, and Amhara suffering becomes acceptable collateral.”

The framework manifests in practical ways. Afghans and Ukrainians received dedicated humanitarian programmes following conflicts; Tigrayans gained substantial attention to humanitarian corridors and asylum pathways. Amhara face no targeted protection despite documented risk. “Former TPLF figures received medical treatment and resettlement in Western countries,” Alemayehu notes. “They had networks and leverage built during decades when EPRDF was Washington’s preferred partner. Ordinary Amhara victims have neither. The system rewards connectivity, not justice.”

Senait agrees this reflects structural bias but resists ethnic framing. “It’s not ‘reward TPLF, punish Amhara’. It’s bureaucratic inertia favouring those with existing connections. That’s wrong, but it’s different from deliberate targeting.” Where Somalis have been demonised in American discourse as security threats, Amhara aren’t similarly vilified. But Alemayehu argues their situation may be worse. “Somalis are at least seen, even if as problems to be managed. Amhara aren’t granted the political dignity of recognition as distinct victims. We’re invisible casualties of someone else’s stabilisation plan.”

Current US policy towards Ethiopia, both scholars agree, prioritises state preservation and counter-terrorism cooperation over accountability. This manifests in continued engagement with the Prosperity Party despite concerns about democratic backsliding, acceptance of Ethiopia’s BRICS membership as fait accompli, and careful statements that avoid antagonising either Addis Ababa or key regional partners like the UAE. Where they differ is interpretation.

“Washington chooses erasure because recognising Amhara suffering would require admitting their stability partners are implicated in grave abuses,” Alemayehu argues. “It would mean asking hard questions about what the UAE gets for its billions of dollars of investment, or why BRICS membership makes Ethiopia less responsive to Western pressure. That’s structural complicity.” Senait counters that Washington doesn’t choose anything regarding Amhara specifically. “They’re not on the radar. The task isn’t exposing conspiracies but forcing attention through the same political mobilisation other groups have used successfully.”

Both scholars agree on concrete demands, even as they dispute underlying causes. Explicit naming of Amhara as a targeted community in official reports. Conditioning of non-humanitarian aid on independent investigations. Inclusion of Amhara voices in national dialogue from the design stage. Tailored protection pathways for at-risk civilians similar to those created for Afghans and Ukrainians. Support for evidence preservation and accountability mechanisms. “These aren’t favours,” Alemayehu insists. “They’re minimum ethical obligations consistent with the human rights language Washington claims to uphold.”

Senait nods. “On that, at least, we agree. But framing this as a grand conspiracy against Amhara identity will fail. Frame it as a gap in conflict response that needs filling that’s winnable.” She pauses, considering the broader landscape. “The problem is that as Ethiopia moves deeper into BRICS, as Abiy’s relationship with the UAE and Gulf states strengthens, Washington has fewer levers. They can’t threaten sanctions when China offers alternative financing. They can’t demand democratic reforms when the Prosperity Party points to Western hypocrisy in the Middle East.”

As evening descends on Addis Ababa and the call to prayer echoes across the city, the two academics gather their papers. They’ll continue this argument tomorrow, and the day after as will their students, colleagues, and the broader Ethiopian intellectual community. The geopolitical landscape has shifted dramatically since the Cold War cables Alemayehu first began studying. Ethiopia is no longer simply caught between East and West but actively navigating a multipolar order where BRICS membership offers alternatives to Western-dominated institutions, where Gulf money flows alongside Chinese infrastructure loans, and where small powers like the UAE punch far above their weight in regional affairs.

What remains constant, both scholars acknowledge with evident frustration, is the pattern they’ve been dissecting all afternoon. Whether during the Cold War, the War on Terror, or today’s competition between BRICS and Western institutions, Ethiopian communities continue to be treated as variables in someone else’s strategic equation. Amhara suffering continues largely unnamed in international policy discourse, whilst other groups’ pain has catalysed significant diplomatic response.

Whether that reflects calculated neglect, the grinding logic of realpolitik, or something more sinister may matter to historians and activists seeking to change policy. To the displaced and the dead, the distinction is academic. “How many more must disappear into statistics,” Alemayehu asks as we part, the lights of the capital flickering on around us, “before ‘stability’ loses its moral cover?” It’s a question Washington, Brussels, and increasingly Beijing and Abu Dhabi have yet to answer convincingly, and one that won’t fade simply because it’s inconvenient, or because Ethiopia has found new partners willing to ignore it.

The harder truth, which neither scholar quite wants to articulate, is that as Ethiopia diversifies its international relationships and reduces dependence on Western approval, Washington’s incentive to press uncomfortable questions about Amhara or any other community’s treatment diminishes further. If Kissinger’s framework treated states as chess pieces, the emerging multipolar order offers those states multiple boards on which to play. For communities without the organisational capacity, diaspora networks, or strategic value to force themselves onto any of those boards, the implications are stark.

Ethiopia joined BRICS alongside the UAE not as a rejection of the West but as insurance against Western pressure. That insurance policy, purchased with expanded ties to China, Russia, and the Gulf, may be the very thing that ensures Washington’s selective conscience remains selective and that Amhara remain in the shadows where great power politics casts its forgotten.

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Scholars’ names have been changed to protect their security. Additional reporting contributed by correspondents in Washington and Abu Dhabi.