OPINION | MAI KADRA, SIX YEARS ON

TPLF’s Ship of Destruction and Its Final Port

Sixth anniversary commemoration of the Mai Kadra ‘terminal genocide’ and the demand for justice

By Dr Sosena Tadesse

Political and Strategic Studies · 9 November 2026

Six years after the killings in Mai Kadra, Dr Sosena Tadesse traces a line from the massacre to today’s proxy war on the Sudanese border and the ‘Tsimdo’ coalition — and sets out what justice must now demand.

Introduction: The Storm of Destruction and the ‘Terminal Genocide’

In Ethiopia’s modern political history, the storm of destruction that the TPLF unleashed over five decades reached its tragic climax at the end of Tikimt 2013 E.C. (November 2020). It entered history as a harrowing chapter of bloodshed and betrayal, marked by the anguished cries of women and children.

It came while the world was in the grip of the COVID-19 pandemic and Western nations were racing to develop vaccines. As the global community turned to science to save human lives, Ethiopia’s former TPLF rulers were preparing a feast of war and mutual destruction.

Their plan unfolded in an orchestrated sequence:

• 22 Tikimt 2013 E.C. (1 November 2020): At the school compound in Gawa Qanqa, West Wollega, gunmen whom the Oromia regional authorities identified as the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) — the group the government calls ‘Shene’ — rounded up and massacred Amhara civilians, at least 54 of them according to survivors interviewed by Amnesty International, and set homes ablaze. The OLA denied responsibility.
• 24 Tikimt 2013 E.C. (night of 3–4 November 2020): In a coordinated, treasonous attack on the Northern Command at Mekelle, Adigrat, Agula, Seroc and Dansha, TPLF special forces launched a surprise assault on the Ethiopian National Defence Force, killing, by the federal government’s account, thousands of Ethiopian soldiers.

The storm pressed on. On 30 Tikimt 2013 E.C. (9 November 2020), the TPLF’s ship of destruction, which had sailed for 50 years, chose its final port: the historic town of Mai Kadra. There it committed a ‘terminal genocide’ before abandoning a land it knew had never been its historical patrimony.

1. Mai Kadra: From ‘Terminal Genocide’ to Historical Reality

From the early 1990s Mai Kadra grew into a town some 30 km from Humera, in fertile ‘white gold’ (sesame) country that serves as a strategic gateway to Sudan. In 1995 E.C. (2002/03), the TPLF forcibly resettled thousands of Tigrayans across the Tekeze River in place of refugees (lajin) returning from Sudan, while systematically dispossessing, expelling and killing the indigenous Amhara landowners to strip them of their land and identity.

Settlers from the rocky Samre area of Tigray established what became known as the ‘Samre District’, while dispossessed Amhara landowners were pushed into the ‘Ginb District’, surviving as day labourers and farmhands. The divide between the two neighbourhoods inflicted profound suffering on the native landowners and stirred in Amhara elders a grief beyond words.

The decades-long struggle of the Wolkait-Tegede Amhara falls into two distinct chapters:

• Before Mai Kadra: the era of occupation, in which indigenous Amharas endured mass arrests, displacement, exile and killings while fighting continuously for their very survival.
• After Mai Kadra: the peak of atrocity, when the TPLF’s ship of destruction, setting out from the Samre District, fell upon the town. In about six hours, between 1,600 and 2,000 Amhara civilians and day labourers, by community estimates, were slaughtered with machetes, axes, knives, clubs and ropes.

This atrocity stands as the TPLF’s defining crime: the terminal genocide.

2. Eyewitness Accounts, Human Rights Reports and the Amnesty Evidence

On 9 November 2020, from 3pm to 9pm, a six-hour campaign of systematic killing targeted Amhara residents of the Ginb District. Community estimates put the dead at 1,600 to 2,000; the Ethiopian Human Rights Commission’s (EHRC) preliminary investigation documented at least 600 deaths and warned that the true toll was likely to be higher.

Haymanot Ashenafi, an EHRC investigator, recalled the scene on arriving in the town:

‘When we reached the town, the asphalt was littered with burnt belongings, abandoned shoes and stretchers. A disturbing stench of decomposing bodies hung in the air … In the compound of the Abune Aregawi Church, we saw mass graves where victims were buried; the burials took days to complete.’

Survivors gave testimony confirming the targeted nature of the attack:

• Mrs Tirfay Girmay, herself Tigrayan, watched her Amhara husband of 12 years slaughtered before her eyes. ‘My husband committed no crime,’ she said. ‘He was killed solely because he was Amhara.’
• Mrs Yeshi Laqem pleaded for their lives when Samri youths dragged her husband, Ayenew Mulat, and his brother from their home. The attackers replied, ‘Today we only want the men; your turn will come,’ before executing them in front of her children.
• Mr Tilahun Atalay and Mr Gebremeskel Mengistu confirmed that the attackers checked identity cards to single out Amharas, used tractors for transport and killed workers systematically; up to 20 bodies were collected from single residences.

Amnesty International’s Crisis Evidence Lab digitally verified photographs and videos of bodies strewn across the town or carried away on stretchers, and used satellite imagery to geolocate them to Mai Kadra. The joint investigation by the UN Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) and the EHRC, published in November 2021, documented the killings by the Samri group and concluded that violations committed in the conflict may amount to war crimes and crimes against humanity.

3. From Mai Kadra to Sudan: How ‘Samri’ Became ‘Army 70’, a Proxy Mercenary Force

The trajectory of the Samri group did not end in Mai Kadra. After the massacre, its members fled across the border into Sudan. There, with the reported backing of regional actors and elements of the Sudanese Armed Forces under General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, they received military training in refugee camps and regrouped as ‘Army 70’, a proxy armed force.

During this year’s rainy season, on 1 August 2026, this ‘Samri/Army 70’ force attempted an incursion at Shererina in western Tigray and was beaten back. From a political-science perspective, this confirms two structural realities:

1. The TPLF’s armed structure is an existential threat to the Amhara people. Whatever its name or location, its core objective remains the destruction and subjugation of the Amhara population.
2. Proxy mercenarism. External regional actors use the perpetrators of the Mai Kadra genocide as third-tier proxies to destabilise the Amhara region and Ethiopia as a whole.

4. ‘Fish’ and the Zemene Kasse Coalition: The Depths of Self-Hatred and Moral Collapse

On the evidence available to this author, the Mai Kadra massacre was trained, organised and directed under the command of Lieutenant General Fisseha Kidanu, known as ‘Fisseha Manjus’, today the commander of the TPLF’s forces.

In audio recordings circulating on social media, which The Ethiopian Tribune has not independently verified, Zemene Kasse, chairman of the ‘Alliance for Survival’ coalition widely known as ‘Tsimdo’, is heard repeatedly addressing General Fisseha by the affectionate nickname ‘Fish’. If authentic, the recordings indicate that the man this author holds to be the chief architect of the Mai Kadra massacre serves as the military head of the Tsimdo alliance.

Examined through the lenses of political science and social psychology, this alignment reveals:

• The denial of justice: aligning with ‘Fish’ and the TPLF’s Debretsion Gebremichael before the blood of the Mai Kadra martyrs has dried is a betrayal of the Amhara survival struggle and a commercialisation of the martyrs’ sacrifice.
• Self-hatred and a slave mentality: a faction that acts dictatorially towards its own people while bowing to Fisseha Manjus and Debretsion — the men this author holds most responsible for Amhara bloodshed — in search of political validation demonstrates complete moral bankruptcy and psychological self-hatred.

5. Political-Science Recommendations and the Legal Path Ahead

The EHRC and OHCHR have documented the Mai Kadra massacre among violations that may amount to war crimes and crimes against humanity under international law; this author contends that it also meets the legal definition of genocide. To redress five decades of suffering endured by the people of Wolkait, Tegede, Telemte and Raya, the following strategic actions must be pursued:

1. International legal accountability: ensure that members of ‘Samri/Army 70’ sheltering in Sudanese camps, their commander General Fisseha Kidanu (‘Fish’) and senior TPLF leaders are investigated under international war-crimes frameworks and brought to justice.
2. Reparations and restitution: engage legal experts to frame international claims for restitution, compensation and formal apologies for the genocide committed against the Amhara people over the past 50 years.
3. Rejecting the treasonous ‘Tsimdo’ path: the fighting forces on the ground and the wider Amhara public must formally reject the political brokers of ‘Tsimdo’ who, in this author’s view, traded the blood of Mai Kadra for power, and anchor the survival struggle firmly in principled Amhara nationalism.

Conclusion

Atrocities against humanity may be concealed for a time through political manoeuvring and opportunistic propaganda, but justice can never be buried for ever. The blood of the Mai Kadra martyrs will not have been shed in vain.

Truth and history remain on our side; victory belongs to the righteous struggle of the Amhara people.

Justice for the Mai Kadra martyrs!

Justice for the Amhara and Orthodox martyrs killed for their identity!

ESSAY

The Rise of Destructive Leadership in Ethiopia

Identity, Personal Grievances, and the Toxic Triangle of Political Power

By Professor Girma Berhanu

Editor’s note: A revised and edited version of this essay has since been published. Readers are directed to the updated text the-toxic-triangle-of-ethiopian-politics.-the-rise-of-destructive-leadership-and-the-decline-of-a-nation-edited-2.docx

Editor’s Foreword

Fifty-two years have passed since the fall of Emperor Haile Selassie. In that time Ethiopia has been governed by three men whose names now stand for three distinct ways of ruling: Mengistu Haile Mariam’s revolutionary terror, Meles Zenawi’s disciplined party-state, and Abiy Ahmed’s personalised premiership. Each came to power promising deliverance. Each, in his own way, has left the country more divided than he found it.

Professor Girma Berhanu, a long-standing contributor to these pages, asks the question that this record forces on any honest observer: how does a nation of such depth, history and talent keep placing its fate in the hands of leaders who damage it? His answer draws on the Toxic Triangle model of Padilla, Hogan and Kaiser, which holds that destructive leadership is never the work of one man alone. It also requires followers who are willing to follow, and an environment that offers no resistance.

That emphasis matters. It is tempting to explain Ethiopia’s suffering entirely through the character of whoever happens to hold power. Professor Girma takes the harder path. He insists that leaders bear personal responsibility for their decisions, but he also asks what in our institutions, our political culture and our own habits as citizens allowed them to rise and to remain.

The essay arrives at a sombre moment. This year’s general election and the renewed fighting in Tigray since August have shown once again how fragile Ethiopia’s political settlement remains, and how little the country’s institutions have done to restrain those who hold power.

His proposals, shaped by several decades of life in Scandinavia, are deliberately unglamorous: civic education that begins in school, youth organisations that teach dissent as well as loyalty, and a gradual apprenticeship in public responsibility. Readers may reasonably debate how far Nordic practice can travel to the Horn of Africa. But his central claim deserves to be taken seriously. The task is not to find a perfect leader. It is to build a political system in which no leader can easily become destructive.

The Ethiopian Tribune publishes this essay as a contribution to that debate, and welcomes responses.

— The Editor, The Ethiopian Tribune

Synopsis

This essay examines the rise of three of Ethiopia’s most consequential and controversial leaders: Mengistu Haile Mariam, Meles Zenawi and Abiy Ahmed. It asks how each reached and held the highest office despite the presence of highly educated, capable and politically experienced alternatives.

Drawing on Padilla, Hogan and Kaiser’s (2007) Toxic Triangle model, it traces the interaction between destructive leaders, susceptible followers and conducive environments. It sets the militarisation of power under the Derg beside the party-centred authority of the EPRDF era and the move from reformist promise to authoritarian consolidation since 2018. The essay considers whether personal identity, contested family backgrounds and grievance may have shaped each leader’s conduct, while separating documented biography from speculation. It also offers a comparison between Abiy Ahmed and the Roman Emperor Caligula.

The essay concludes that Ethiopia’s crisis is, at root, a crisis of political selection, institutional accountability and leadership development. Drawing on Scandinavian experience, it argues for civic education from childhood, genuinely democratic youth organisations, mentorship and progressive responsibility, so that leaders are cultivated rather than left to emerge from upheaval, armed struggle or personal ambition.

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Introduction: Ethiopia’s Leadership Paradox

Ethiopia presents a profound paradox in African political history. Its ancient civilisation, historical independence, cultural diversity, intellectual traditions and demographic weight make it one of the continent’s most consequential nations. Yet despite enormous human potential and generations of educated and capable citizens, the country has repeatedly experienced political leadership associated with repression, institutional instability, national fragmentation and profound human suffering.

This essay examines the rise and political legacies of three controversial Ethiopian leaders, Mengistu Haile Mariam, Meles Zenawi and Abiy Ahmed, through the theoretical framework of the Toxic Triangle of destructive leadership. It asks how these men ascended to national power despite the availability of alternative political and intellectual talent, what characteristics enabled their success, and how the surrounding institutional and societal environments facilitated their emergence and consolidation.

One of the most troubling questions in Ethiopia’s modern history is precisely this: why have individuals with authoritarian tendencies, revolutionary ambitions or highly centralised conceptions of power managed to rise to the highest political positions? And how have they maintained authority despite the existence of capable intellectuals, experienced administrators, respected community leaders and alternative political actors?

Although these three leaders emerged from different historical circumstances, ideological traditions and political organisations, their periods in office invite comparative investigation into political domination, institutional weakness, coercive governance and the consequences of concentrated authority.

The central argument of this essay is that Ethiopia’s recurring leadership crisis cannot be explained merely by the personalities of individual rulers. It must also be understood as a structural problem involving political institutions, social conditions, leadership selection, ideological mobilisation and the absence of effective mechanisms of accountability. The essay explores the possible relationship between personal identity, perceived social marginalisation, grievance, ambition and destructive behaviour, while taking care to distinguish biographical evidence from psychological speculation.

It also raises a broader question about Ethiopia’s future: what institutional and educational arrangements might prevent the emergence of another generation of destructive leaders? Leadership, it argues, should be cultivated rather than left to political opportunism, revolutionary circumstance, military dominance or personal ambition. Drawing on Scandinavian political traditions, it proposes early civic education, youth political participation, mentorship, institutional accountability and merit-based selection as foundations for Ethiopia’s political renewal.

Ethiopia’s future depends not only on identifying destructive leadership after it has emerged, but on building institutions capable of producing, selecting and holding accountable responsible leaders.

The Toxic Triangle

The Toxic Triangle of Destructive Leadership, developed by Padilla, Hogan and Kaiser (2007), offers an analytical framework for this inquiry. Rather than treating destructive leadership as an isolated psychological defect, the model emphasises the interaction of three interdependent elements:

• Destructive leaders: individuals marked by authoritarian tendencies, excessive ambition, narcissism, manipulation or a hunger for power, who place personal interests above collective welfare.
• Susceptible followers: people who support such leaders out of fear, insecurity, ideological loyalty, self-interest, dependency, or a desire for belonging and protection.
• Conducive environments: political or organisational conditions that enable destructive leadership, including institutional weakness, instability, fear, polarisation and inadequate accountability.

The Toxic Triangle of destructive leadership, after Padilla, Hogan and Kaiser (2007).

The model’s essential insight is that destructive leadership is not merely the product of a bad leader. It emerges when destructive leaders, susceptible followers and enabling environments reinforce one another. This allows a fuller account of how political leaders acquire authority, why their followers support them, and how institutions become vulnerable to destructive political behaviour.

The Historical Context of Destructive Leadership in Ethiopia

Mengistu Haile Mariam and the militarisation of political power

Mengistu Haile Mariam emerged from the military establishment during the Ethiopian Revolution of 1974, which overthrew Emperor Haile Selassie. The revolution initially reflected widespread demands for political reform, social justice, land redistribution and the dismantling of entrenched aristocratic privilege. The revolutionary process, however, rapidly became a struggle for supremacy within the military committee known as the Derg. Mengistu eventually consolidated power and presided over a highly centralised military state characterised by ideological repression, political violence and the systematic elimination of opponents.

The Red Terror, particularly during 1977–78, became one of the most devastating episodes in modern Ethiopian history. Political opponents, suspected dissidents and civilians associated with rival movements were subjected to mass arrests, executions and other forms of state violence. The regime’s coercive approach to opposition left deep societal trauma and destroyed political trust. From the perspective of destructive leadership theory, Mengistu’s rule illustrates how revolutionary environments can enable leaders who transform legitimate demands for reform into instruments of domination.

The revolutionary crisis weakened established institutions while failing to build durable democratic mechanisms. Military authority, ideological conformity and coerced loyalty became the central instruments of governance. This raises an important question: did the revolution produce destructive leadership, or did destructive leadership exploit the revolution?

The answer is likely to involve both. Revolutionary instability created opportunities for domination, while the subsequent concentration of authority allowed the leadership to intensify the crisis and perpetuate destructive practices. Mengistu’s experience shows how political transitions become especially vulnerable to authoritarian consolidation when effective institutional safeguards are absent.

Beyond institutions and historical circumstance, however, the individual characteristics and background of political leaders should not be overlooked. Mengistu’s personality, military career, social origins and personal ambitions may also have shaped his trajectory. He was widely portrayed as a confrontational, volatile and authoritarian figure. His physical appearance and darker complexion were reportedly used against him in derogatory characterisations, including the Amharic term barya, associated with servitude. His military career was reportedly marked by several demotions, and speculation about his family lineage continued to circulate. Accounts of his early life point to modest circumstances: his father served as an ordinary soldier, and Mengistu reportedly had limited formal education. A number of accounts have also associated him with gambling and an unpredictable temperament.

These personal and biographical dimensions must, of course, be approached critically, distinguishing documented historical evidence from political allegation, rumour and retrospective interpretation. Nevertheless, they raise an important question about the interaction between individual agency and structural conditions. Mengistu appears to have exploited the upheaval and the institutional vacuum that followed the collapse of the imperial order. The prevailing atmosphere of uncertainty, fragmentation and disintegration created favourable conditions for a determined, power-seeking military figure to assert himself. Revolutionary constituencies, particularly those seeking rapid social and political transformation, may also have been susceptible to manipulation. In this sense, Mengistu’s rise was not simply a product of structural circumstances; it also reflected opportunities seized by an ambitious officer in pursuit of power, authority and a place in history.

Meles Zenawi and the institutionalisation of party-centred authority

Meles Zenawi emerged from the armed struggle against the Derg and became one of the principal architects of the political order established after 1991. His leadership was associated with the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF), a coalition whose dominant member, the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF), exercised extensive influence over the state. The post-1991 system introduced a new constitutional framework that formally recognised ethnic federalism and regional self-government, and it expanded education, infrastructure and public administration in several areas.

Nevertheless, the political system became increasingly characterised by centralised party authority, restrictions on political competition, repression of the opposition and extensive control over state institutions. The ethnic federal system introduced under his leadership also generated significant tensions, contributing to internal divisions, intercommunal conflict, competing territorial claims and increasingly entrenched ethnic polarisation. Critics argue that these developments particularly disadvantaged the Amhara population, which experienced severe political marginalisation, insecurity, displacement, violence and collective trauma.

The political orientation of the TPLF leadership, including its historical antagonism towards Ethiopian nationalism and its relationship with Amhara political identity and the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church, also became a source of considerable controversy. Critics contend that anti-Amhara sentiment and hostility towards aspects of Ethiopia’s historical and religious traditions shaped the outlook of the incoming leadership. These interpretations warrant examination in the context of the TPLF’s ideological foundations, political discourse and governing practices, while distinguishing documented policies and actions from allegations about individual motives.

The 2005 elections marked a decisive turning point. After substantial electoral competition and widespread opposition gains, the government responded with repression, mass arrests and lethal violence against protesters. The consequences extended well beyond the immediate crisis, reinforcing the perception that electoral participation did not guarantee meaningful political alternation.

Meles’s leadership therefore represents a different form of destructive leadership from Mengistu’s military dictatorship. Rather than relying chiefly on revolutionary coercion, it combined party organisation, ideological discipline, administrative structures and developmental legitimacy. The distinction is analytically important. Destructive leadership can operate through military domination, but it can also work through sophisticated political organisations, bureaucratic institutions and narratives of national development.

The central issue is not whether a leader is intelligent or organised, but whether those capacities are exercised within institutions that protect citizens, distribute power and constrain authority.

The Ethiopian experience demonstrates that institutional sophistication and economic growth do not automatically produce democratic accountability. A political system may expand infrastructure, educational opportunity and administrative capacity while simultaneously restricting freedoms and concentrating power.

During Meles Zenawi’s period in power, ethnic political hierarchies and forms of ethnic exclusivism became increasingly institutionalised and visible. Although these tendencies became still more pronounced under Abiy Ahmed, their roots can be traced, in part, to the preceding period. The consequences included deepening ethnic division, recurring conflict, displacement, famine and the deaths of large numbers of people. The legacies of this period continue to affect Ethiopian society, like a deeply embedded poison whose effects have yet to be overcome. Corruption and patronage also became serious features of the system. And although Tigray received considerable political and economic attention under the TPLF-led government, this did not translate into widespread prosperity: many ordinary farmers and rural communities in Tigray remained poor.

At a personal level, Meles’s background has also been discussed in relation to his family’s alleged historical associations with the Italian occupation. Some accounts suggest that his father or grandfather had links to individuals or structures connected with the Italian colonial administration. Such claims require careful historical verification and should not be treated as established fact without reliable evidence. More importantly, they must be kept distinct from an examination of Meles’s documented political decisions, ideological commitments and governing practices.

Nevertheless, many politically informed Ethiopians, particularly among older generations, argue that Meles set the country on a dangerous trajectory, one that intensified fragmentation, institutionalised ethnic division and laid the conditions for further cycles of violent conflict. In their view, the framework established during his tenure opened the door to conflicts whose consequences are still unfolding, with no clear resolution in sight. Meles was widely regarded as intellectually capable and politically astute; his critics argue that this strategic intelligence was joined to a deeply problematic political agenda and a willingness to pursue power in ways that undermined national cohesion and long-term stability.

Abiy Ahmed: from reformist promise to authoritarian consolidation

Abiy Ahmed assumed the premiership in 2018 amid widespread unrest and growing dissatisfaction with the EPRDF government. His emergence generated considerable optimism at home and abroad. His reform announcements, political openings, reconciliation initiatives and promises of democratic transformation raised hopes for a new era in Ethiopia.

Subsequent developments, however, exposed the profound contradictions of the transition. It was marked by tension between competing political organisations, unresolved historical grievances, growing ethnic polarisation, constitutional disagreement and increasingly intense struggles over the distribution of power. The outbreak of war in Tigray in November 2020, followed by spreading insecurity and armed conflict in other parts of the country, had devastating humanitarian consequences. Political repression, mass displacement, civilian suffering and increasingly contested narratives of national identity have further complicated Ethiopia’s trajectory.

Abiy’s leadership therefore raises a fundamental question about the relationship between reformist promise and political outcome: how does a leader initially associated with democratic opening become identified with centralised authority, repression and devastating conflict?

The answer cannot be reduced to personal ambition alone. It requires examining the institutional constraints, political incentives, competing elites, security structures, historical grievances and social divisions within which decisions are made. Yet structural explanations must not obscure individual responsibility. The consequences of a leader’s decisions remain central to any serious assessment of political accountability.

Taken together, the cases of Mengistu, Meles and Abiy suggest that destructive political outcomes can arise under quite different ideologies and organisational arrangements. They allow us to investigate recurring patterns of authoritarian governance, manipulation, institutional weakening and the concentration of power, without assuming that the three men were identical or that history can be explained by personality alone.

Abiy Ahmed: personality, power and political destruction

In my assessment, Abiy Ahmed’s tenure represents one of the most destructive episodes of political leadership in Ethiopia’s modern history. I regard his leadership as characterised by manipulation, calculated opportunism, ruthlessness and a troubling willingness to pursue political objectives regardless of their devastating consequences for the country. His conduct, rhetoric and governing practices raise serious questions about his relationship with democratic institutions, political pluralism and the responsibilities of national leadership.

Seven years ago, I wrote an article titled The Many Faces of Abiy Ahmed: The Nobel Laureate, Ironically Honoured for Peace. From the outset, I found him a deeply troubling and unsettling political figure. My assessment rested on his rhetoric, an analysis of his policies, and interviews and accounts concerning his upbringing, education and background. Together, these suggested to me an enigmatic leader whose political agenda appeared increasingly destructive for the nation.

More recently, after watching a documentary on the Roman Emperor Caligula (Gaius Caesar Germanicus), his cruelty and his eventual descent into madness, I was struck by what I perceived as parallels with Ethiopia’s prime minister, and explored them in a short article. The historical context, methods of governance and instruments of power are, of course, vastly different. The comparison nonetheless operates on two levels: the first concerns perceived similarities in leadership style and political conduct; the second concerns the lessons history offers, and in particular what societies repeatedly fail to learn from earlier experiences of authoritarian rule.

A central theme is the relationship between power, personal image and political legitimacy. Caligula’s reign is frequently associated with claims to divine status and attempts to raise the emperor above ordinary political authority; ancient accounts describe the heads of statues of the gods being replaced with his own likeness. Critics of Abiy Ahmed argue that aspects of his leadership similarly reflect an effort to cultivate an image of exceptional, almost sacred authority through public symbolism, religious narrative, monumental initiatives and saturation media coverage.

A second theme is the use of grand projects and symbolic acts to project power. Ancient sources describe Caligula ordering his soldiers to gather seashells from the shore after his abortive campaign against Britain and presenting them as the spoils of war, an episode traditionally read as theatrical power and symbolic domination. Critics of Abiy argue that some of his monumental projects likewise prioritise spectacle, personal legacy and image-building while the country faces extraordinary humanitarian challenges, including armed conflict, displacement, poverty and economic hardship.

Caligula’s reputation is also bound up with cruelty, financial extravagance and the abuse of authority. Ancient writers describe lavish expenditure, costly construction and the confiscation of property through politically motivated accusations. Critics of Abiy’s government draw comparisons with these patterns, raising concerns about the allocation of public resources, prestige-oriented development, forced displacement and the concentration of decision-making. Several broader characteristics of Caligula’s reign offer a comparative framework:

• Cult of personality: ancient sources portray Caligula as demanding extraordinary reverence and blurring the boundary between ruler and deity. Modern authoritarian leaders similarly present themselves as uniquely qualified, indispensable or historically destined to lead. Critics argue that Abiy’s political communication and public symbolism increasingly reflect this tendency.
• Unchecked executive power: Caligula ruled with few effective institutional constraints. In contemporary authoritarian settings, executive power is consolidated by weakening or subordinating courts, legislatures, independent media and other institutions capable of limiting authority. The erosion of institutional accountability in Ethiopia raises serious concern in this regard.
• Arbitrary decision-making: historical accounts depict Caligula as unpredictable in his appointments, punishments and decisions. Arbitrary governance allows authoritarian leaders to create uncertainty, discourage opposition and make political actors dependent on the ruler’s discretion. Critics of Abiy’s administration raise comparable concerns about unpredictability and the personalisation of authority.
• Fear as an instrument of governance: accounts of executions, confiscations and public humiliation under Caligula show how fear can function as a mechanism of control. In contemporary authoritarian systems, coercion, intimidation and repression serve the same purpose of deterring dissent. Allegations of political repression and violence in Ethiopia warrant serious independent investigation and accountability.

Critics of the government contend that these characteristics are increasingly evident in Ethiopia’s contemporary political trajectory: that the concentration of power, the weakening of institutional constraints, arbitrary governance and the coercive treatment of perceived opponents have fuelled polarisation, widespread violence and a severe humanitarian crisis. Continued insecurity and renewed armed confrontation in different parts of the country further demonstrate the fragility of Ethiopia’s political order.

Personal background, identity and the psychology of political leadership

Beyond institutional arrangements and historical circumstance, the background and personal characteristics of political leaders may also warrant examination. In Abiy Ahmed’s case, questions about his family background, religious upbringing, identity and personal trajectory have featured frequently in Ethiopian political discourse. Accounts of his family history describe a mixed religious background, with a Muslim father and a Christian mother, and there has also been public discussion and speculation about his paternal lineage.

It is important, however, to distinguish verifiable biographical information from politically motivated speculation. Claims about his parentage, ancestry or an alleged identity crisis should not be treated as established fact without credible evidence. Nor should complex political decisions be explained through presumed psychological traits or family circumstances alone.

A more productive approach is to investigate how personal identity, political socialisation, ambition, self-presentation and perceptions of legitimacy interact with institutional opportunities and constraints. The relationship between personal insecurity, image-building and the exercise of authority is a legitimate subject of political and historical inquiry, provided that interpretations are supported by evidence rather than conjecture.

My central concern, however, is not Abiy Ahmed’s personal background or temperament, but the political consequences of his leadership. Under his premiership, Ethiopia has suffered an extraordinary deterioration in security, social cohesion, institutional trust and humanitarian conditions. The country has been brought dangerously close to fragmentation and state collapse.

Of particular concern is the scale of violence, displacement, discrimination and reported atrocities affecting Amhara communities. Allegations of targeted persecution, civilian killings, the destruction of livelihoods, arbitrary detention and systematic discrimination demand serious international attention and independent investigation. The suffering of these communities must not be marginalised or treated as secondary to competing political narratives. Its scale, alongside the wider crisis affecting other Ethiopian communities, raises fundamental questions about the state’s capacity and willingness to protect all its citizens equally.

Ultimately, Abiy Ahmed’s legacy must be judged not by the promises that accompanied his rise, his international recognition or the monumental projects associated with his administration, but by the consequences of his decisions for the Ethiopian people and the country’s future. The contrast between the democratic expectations of 2018 and the deterioration that followed is particularly stark.

Political transitions do not automatically produce democratic transformation. Without strong institutions, reformist promises can become instruments of another cycle of authoritarian consolidation.

That is the central historical lesson. In the absence of strong institutions, meaningful accountability, inclusive political arrangements and respect for human rights, revolutionary or reformist promises can become the vehicle for renewed authoritarianism. Ethiopia’s experience under Mengistu, Meles and Abiy offers three historically distinct illustrations of this recurring danger.

The Scandinavian Experience: Democratic Leadership as a Cultivated Practice

I raise this issue partly because I have lived in Scandinavia for several decades and have been able to observe how these countries identify, cultivate and invest in future political leaders from an early age. Through youth organisations, civic education, political mentorship and opportunities for democratic participation, they create pathways along which future leaders gradually acquire political competence and a sense of public responsibility. Combined with strong institutions, established traditions of accountability and effective checks and balances, these practices contribute to political stability, institutional resilience and long-term national security.

The proposal at the heart of this essay is that future Ethiopian leaders should be systematically prepared for democratic leadership. Rather than allowing leadership to emerge primarily through crises, armed struggle or internal power contests, Ethiopia could develop a structured system of civic education, mentorship and meaningful democratic participation. Such an approach would help cultivate a generation of leaders equipped not only with political and administrative competence but with democratic values, ethical responsibility and a commitment to constitutional governance.

Scandinavian countries offer useful comparative insights, although their institutions cannot simply be transplanted to Ethiopia without regard to differences in history, social structure and constitutional arrangements.

Leadership development through youth participation

In Scandinavian democracies, political participation often begins early, through student organisations, the youth wings of political parties, civic associations, local government initiatives and educational institutions. Party youth organisations offer opportunities to build political knowledge, engage in public debate, discuss policy, organise campaigns and gain practical experience of democratic processes.

Participation in youth politics should not, however, be equated with guaranteed preparation for national leadership. Many young people active in political organisations never hold national office, and the organisations themselves vary considerably in their internal democracy.

The lesson is not that Scandinavian leaders are necessarily superior because they passed through youth organisations. It is that democratic societies provide multiple institutional and civic pathways through which individuals can acquire political knowledge, develop leadership capacities, absorb democratic values and gain practical experience before assuming significant public responsibility.

Mentorship and gradual responsibility

Leadership development should involve a gradual progression towards greater responsibility. Young people may begin in school councils, student associations, civic initiatives and community organisations. As they gain experience and maturity, they can move on to municipal governance, policy development, parliamentary work and public administration. Such progression allows them to acquire practical experience, demonstrate their abilities and become accountable to the public. Leadership thus becomes a matter of demonstrated commitment and competence rather than the sudden acquisition of authority.

Ethiopia, unfortunately, has not developed comparable pathways for identifying, preparing and nurturing future leaders. Political figures frequently arrive in positions of national power without having been widely known or publicly scrutinised beforehand. Their backgrounds, political trajectories, qualifications and intentions often remain unclear, leaving considerable room for speculation; at times even basic questions about their backgrounds and affiliations have become matters of public debate. Ordinary Ethiopians are left to guess whether an emerging leader represents a genuine opportunity for national transformation or a continuation of existing patterns of instability and institutional weakness. This uncertainty underlines the importance of transparent leadership selection, public scrutiny and the systematic development of democratic leadership.

Political pluralism and institutional restraint

Scandinavian political systems also illustrate the importance of arrangements that prevent the excessive concentration of power. Parliamentary democracy, independent media, judicial institutions, political competition and strong civic organisations together ensure that leaders remain subject to public scrutiny. These arrangements matter more than the personal virtues of any individual leader.

The objective should not be to identify a perfect leader. It should be to establish a political system in which no leader can easily become destructive.

A democratic society should not depend on the assumption that its leaders will always be benevolent. It should instead build institutions capable of restraining leaders who become authoritarian, incompetent or destructive. This principle is particularly relevant to Ethiopia.

Grooming Ethiopia’s Future Leaders: From Political Opportunism to Democratic Preparation

The recurring problem of destructive leadership raises a fundamental question: can a nation deliberately cultivate better leaders? This essay argues that Ethiopia must move beyond the assumption that leadership emerges naturally through political competition, revolutionary struggle, military service or individual ambition. Leadership should instead be understood as a developmental process involving education, ethical formation, practical experience and institutional accountability.

Constitutional monarchies offer an interesting comparative perspective on the early preparation of future leaders. In the Scandinavian countries, heirs to the throne are identified from birth and undergo a long process of education, preparation and gradual familiarisation with public duties. Succession is institutionally established, and the public knows who the future monarch will be, often decades in advance. Although these monarchs exercise primarily constitutional and symbolic functions rather than direct political authority, the continuity of succession provides a measure of predictability and stability. Absolute monarchies operate differently, since hereditary succession there may also transfer substantial executive power. These distinctions matter. The lesson is not that Ethiopia should adopt a monarchical system, but that deliberate, long-term preparation for public responsibility offers a useful point of comparison. In a democratic republic, similar principles can be applied through civic education, mentorship, transparent selection and progressively greater public responsibility.

Early democratic education and youth leadership development

The cultivation of democratic leadership should begin in childhood and continue through adolescence into early adulthood. Schools are an important starting point, not merely for teaching democratic principles in theory but for giving children practical experience of democratic participation. School councils, student elections, debating clubs, civic projects and collaborative decision-making help young people develop leadership skills and understand that leadership is fundamentally a responsibility to serve others rather than an entitlement to command.

Such experiences should cultivate respect for human dignity, acceptance of the legitimacy of political disagreement, an appreciation of compromise and an understanding of the duties of public service. Equally important is an awareness of the dangers of authoritarian power and of the relationship between individual rights and civic responsibility. Embedded in everyday educational practice, these principles allow democratic habits to take root long before young people join political organisations or assume public office.

This foundation should be strengthened through democratic youth organisations. Ethiopia could develop and support the youth wings of political parties, civic associations and other voluntary bodies that provide policy education, leadership training, public debate, community engagement and practical participation in democratic processes. Such organisations could become important pathways through which young people acquire political knowledge, gain organisational experience and gradually take on greater responsibility.

Youth organisations must, however, operate on genuinely democratic principles. They must not become instruments of indoctrination, partisan mobilisation or personality worship. Their purpose should be to form independent-minded citizens who can examine political ideas critically, question authority and engage constructively with opposing views. A particularly important element of democratic leadership is the capacity to disagree with one’s own party or organisation without fear of exclusion or punishment.

The ability to question one’s own leaders is not a sign of disloyalty; it is an essential element of democratic maturity.

Taken together, democratic education in schools and meaningful participation in youth organisations could create a continuous pathway from childhood civic engagement to responsible political leadership. For Ethiopia, this would mark an important shift away from leadership forged primarily in political struggle and the contest for power, towards leadership grounded in democratic experience, ethical responsibility, public service and institutional accountability.

Conclusion: Breaking the Cycle of Destructive Leadership

The political trajectories of Mengistu Haile Mariam, Meles Zenawi and Abiy Ahmed illuminate one of Ethiopia’s most persistent challenges: the emergence and reproduction of destructive political leadership in a country endowed with considerable human, intellectual and historical resources. Although the three men rose under different historical circumstances and ideological banners, their periods in power reveal recurring patterns of concentrated authority, institutional vulnerability, political exclusion, weakened accountability and threats to national cohesion.

The Toxic Triangle model is valuable precisely because it moves beyond explanations based solely on individual personality. It conceives of destructive leadership as the interaction of destructive leaders, susceptible followers and conducive environments. Leaders may possess intelligence, organisational capability and political ambition; when those qualities operate within institutions that reward domination, suppress dissent and undermine accountability, leadership becomes destructive. Followers, likewise, may support leaders out of ideological commitment, a desire for security, material interest, group identification or genuine hope for national transformation, and their participation, even when well intentioned, may sustain destructive systems.

The environment matters just as much. Revolutionary upheaval, institutional fragility, polarisation, unresolved historical grievance and the absence of effective democratic mechanisms create favourable conditions for authoritarian consolidation. Ethiopia’s experience therefore shows that destructive leadership cannot be explained through individual biography or personality alone. Personal identity, political socialisation, grievance and family background may be relevant areas of political-psychological inquiry, but explanations must rest on reliable evidence rather than speculation. The more compelling argument concerns the interaction between individual motivation, political opportunity, institutional arrangement and social condition.

A nation may possess exceptionally intelligent and capable citizens yet repeatedly suffer destructive leadership when its institutions fail to select, develop, constrain and hold leaders to account. This leads to the central conclusion of this essay: Ethiopia’s leadership crisis is fundamentally a crisis of political selection, institutional accountability and democratic leadership development.

The solution is not to wait for a better, more benevolent or more visionary leader to appear. Nor is it enough to replace one dominant figure with another. Ethiopia needs a political and institutional transformation capable of cultivating responsible leadership, limiting excessive executive authority, preventing the personalisation of power and protecting citizens from political abuse.

Scandinavian democratic traditions offer useful lessons, particularly in early civic education, meaningful youth participation, political mentorship, institutional transparency and gradual leadership development. These practices cannot simply be transplanted; they must be adapted to Ethiopia’s historical experience, cultural diversity and political realities. Nevertheless, they point towards a more inclusive, accountable and participatory political culture.

Ethiopia must move from leadership based on domination to leadership based on public service; from political loyalty to constitutional responsibility; from personalised authority to institutions that belong equally to all citizens.

The nation’s future should not depend on the character or ambitions of a single ruler. It should rest on the legitimacy of its institutions, the quality of its civic education, the integrity of its political organisations and the capacity of its citizens to hold their leaders to account.

The enduring challenge, therefore, is not merely to understand how destructive leaders have risen to power in Ethiopia, but to transform the political, institutional and social conditions that have repeatedly allowed them to consolidate and reproduce their authority. Breaking this cycle requires more than changing leaders. It requires changing the very conditions under which leadership is acquired, exercised, legitimised and sustained.

Girma Berhanu is a Professor at the University of Gothenburg and a regular contributor to The Ethiopian Tribune.

References

Abbink, J., & Hagmann, T. (Eds.). (2013). Reconfiguring Ethiopia: The politics of authoritarian reform. Routledge.

Kellerman, B. (2004). Bad leadership: What it is, how it happens, why it matters. Harvard Business School Press.

Lipman-Blumen, J. (2005). The allure of toxic leaders: Why we follow destructive bosses and corrupt politicians – and how we can survive them. Oxford University Press.

Padilla, A., Hogan, R., & Kaiser, R. B. (2007). The toxic triangle: Destructive leaders, susceptible followers, and conducive environments. The Leadership Quarterly, 18(3), 176–194. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.leaqua.2007.03.001

Toggia, P. (2012). The revolutionary endgame of political power: The genealogy of ‘Red Terror’ in Ethiopia. African Identities, 10(3), 265–280.

By Mareshet Yimer Meshesha

Independent Analyst

The contemporary Ethiopian state is undergoing a profound, structural metamorphosis that threatens the foundational principles of modern public administration. The mandatory conscription of senior civilian cabinet ministers—including the custodians of the nation's legal and diplomatic institutions—into heavy combat training camps marks a critical departure from conventional governance. This trend is not an eccentric exercise in civic duty; it represents a systematic attempt to dissolve the institutional buffer between civilian bureaucracy and military command.

For an administrative system to function effectively, the division between civilian policy-making and military execution must remain absolute. When this boundary is intentionally erased, the civil service loses its capacity for independent analysis, negotiation, and public accountability, transforming instead into a rigid, top-down instrument of autocratic decree.

Autocratic regimes facing deep structural crises routinely rely on what political scientists term the ideology of total mobilization. When an administration is beset by economic instability, regional insurgencies, and a decline in popular legitimacy, it frequently seeks to reshape the state in the image of a garrison.

By forcing highly trained technocrats, planners, and legal scholars into boot camps, the political leadership attempts to project a facade of discipline and state unity. This approach assumes that complex socioeconomic problems can be resolved through sheer physical coercion and wartime focus.

In reality, this practice introduces a highly destructive dynamic into public administration. The core function of a civilian minister is to evaluate competing priorities, draft evidence-based policies, engage in open legislative debate, and remain responsive to public feedback.

Subjecting these officials to military indoctrination replaces the civil service mindset with an uncompromising command structure. When ministers begin to view their roles through a martial lens, they cease to function as public servants and operate instead as political soldiers. Their primary duty shifts from serving the citizenry to executing palace directives without question.

“When ministers begin to view their roles through a martial lens, they cease to function as public servants and operate instead as political soldiers.”

II. Historical Precedents: The Dynamics of Administrative Militarization

The decision to force a civilian cabinet into uniform is a well-documented indicator of institutional decay, carrying clear historical parallels across various centuries and continents:

1. The Syngman Rhee Era (South Korea, 1950s)

Faced with persistent domestic unrest and intense economic pressure, President Syngman Rhee systematically weakened South Korea's independent civilian bureaucracy. Rhee forced his cabinet ministers and top-tier civil directors into mandatory para-military academies, demanding performative displays of tactical loyalty.

This policy eroded the technical proficiency of the state apparatus. Cabinet members were evaluated based on their personal loyalty to the president rather than the efficacy of their economic planning, plunging the administration into severe corruption and institutional paralysis.

2. The Ba'athist Transformation (Iraq, 1970s–1980s)

Following its rise to power, the Ba'athist regime executed a comprehensive project to militarize the state civil service. Civilian administrators, engineers, and educators were required to attain formal military rankings and undergo regular combat training.

The regime intentionally restructured traditional ministries into operational commands. This shift effectively silenced professional technocrats, ensuring that every layer of public infrastructure operated under a strict, unquestioning chain of command that prioritized regime survival over public welfare.

3. The Enver Hoxha Paradigm (Albania, 1960s–1970s)

Driven by a deep paranoia regarding external isolation and internal subversion, Hoxha ordered the complete integration of civilian departments with defense structures. High-ranking economists, diplomats, and agricultural experts were forced to run their offices as military units, frequently conducting daily administrative business in field uniforms from defensive bunkers.

This approach systematically dismantled the country's capacity for pragmatic governance. It replaced economic reality with ideological slogans and administrative force, ultimately leading to decades of severe economic isolation and systemic underdevelopment.

III. The Institutional Cost: Fabricated Metrics and Administrative Decay

When a public bureaucracy is forced to prioritize performative loyalty over meritocracy, its capacity to manage a complex economy degrades rapidly. This structural decay manifests in two distinct ways,

First, the Collapse of Technocratic Integrity

In a professional civil service, internal ministries function as centers of objective data collection and strategic planning. A Minister of Finance or Planning must have the independence to present accurate, unvarnished economic indicators to the head of government—even when those figures reveal deep systemic deficits.

When these ministers are integrated into a military-style chain of command, presenting dissenting data is treated as an act of insubordination or political betrayal. Consequently, technocratic accuracy is systematically replaced by fabricated metrics designed to satisfy the palace.

Second, the Rise of Performative Statistics

This dynamic leads directly to the public reporting of unrealistic economic data. Militarized administrative sectors are frequently ordered to produce instant, unverifiable triumphs to validate the regime's policy choices.

Whether claiming immediate, double-digit leaps in regional agricultural output or announcing sudden, massive expansions in national income during severe fiscal shortages, these figures bear no relation to the lived reality of the population. This disconnect creates severe blind spots for policy-making, separating the state's leadership from the actual material conditions of the country and accelerating the risk of systemic collapse.

IV. Comparative Blueprints: Preserving Civilian Supremacy

The challenge of preventing military structures from overtaking civilian life is a recurring theme in global history. Let's examine how two distinct political traditions offer how powerful examples of societies have actively maintained the separation of civilian and military spheres:

1. The French Republican Civil Service Model

Throughout the political upheavals of the 19th century, France faced repeated instances of military interference in state governance. To protect the public administration, the Third Republic established a highly insulated, professional civil service system (Grandes Écoles).

The state enacted strict legal barriers that explicitly separated civilian administrative functions from military intervention. This framework ensured that even during periods of deep political crisis or war, the daily management of public health, education, infrastructure, and finance remained exclusively in professional, civilian hands, protecting the public from arbitrary military control.

2. The Post-World War II West German Reform (Innere Führung)

Following the complete militarization of society under the Third Reich, post-war German reformers recognized the necessity of structurally rewriting civilian-military relations. They introduced the doctrine of Innere Führung, which legally established that the armed forces must remain entirely subordinate to civilian political oversight.

The reform instituted strict prohibitions against the militarization of civilian administrative agencies. It mandated that active military personnel could hold no positions within the civil service, ensuring that public policy was developed through transparent parliamentary debate rather than hidden executive commands.

Summary

The practice of putting civilian ministers through military boot camps is a highly visible exercise in realpolitik wrapped in the language of civic discipline. When a government relies on performance and force to manage its core cabinet, it implicitly acknowledges that it can no longer govern through consensus, the rule of law, and institutional accountability.

For the Ethiopian public, civil society, and the transnational intelligentsia, this blurring of civilian and military roles presents a clear and immediate danger. If the distinct boundary between civilian bureaucracy and military command is allowed to dissolve completely, the country risks losing the structural checks and balances necessary to prevent systemic collapse.

The preservation of independent, transparent, and professional civil institutions is not a political luxury; it is a fundamental prerequisite for the survival and long-term stability of the country.

Editor’s note: The Ethiopian Tribune has published this article in its entirety, as submitted by the author. The views expressed are solely those of the author. The Ethiopian Tribune takes no responsibility for any errors, or for the accuracy of the factual information, contained in this article.

ANALYSIS · ETHIOPIA AND THE UNITED STATES

Forty-Eight Hours in Two Capitals

In Washington, a Tigrayan-born critic of the Ethiopian state won a seat in Congress and an Ethiopian-American admitted to spying for Addis Ababa. In Addis Ababa, the authorities silenced the country’s oldest independent newspaper. A tale of two cities, and what it costs the Ethiopian government.

By E. Frashie · 5 November 2026

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Dickens wrote of London and Paris on the eve of revolution. The two cities in this story are Washington and Addis Ababa, and the span is not a decade but roughly forty-eight hours, from Monday 2 November to the small hours of Wednesday 4 November 2026. In that window, three things happened that the Ethiopian government would, for different reasons, have preferred not to happen at all, or at least not at the same time.

On Monday, Ethiopia’s media regulator suspended The Reporter, the country’s oldest surviving independent newspaper, indefinitely. On Tuesday, in a federal courtroom in Washington, a former US government contractor pleaded guilty to passing top-secret American intelligence to Ethiopian officials so that they could use it against armed opponents of the state. And on Tuesday night, the voters of Denver sent to Congress a 29-year-old Ethiopian-born lawyer of Tigrayan origin who has spent years accusing the Ethiopian and Eritrean governments of genocide.

Each story has been reported on its own. Read together, they describe a government that is narrowing the space for scrutiny at home just as it is losing control of how it is seen abroad.

Washington I: The Ballot

Melat Kiros won Colorado’s 1st Congressional District with roughly 78 per cent of the vote, defeating the Republican Christy Peterson and the independent Shimon Blau. The Associated Press called the race on election night. The general election was a formality in a safe Democratic seat; the real contest came in June, when she ended the 29-year congressional career of Diana DeGette in the Democratic primary, winning the certified count by 53.2 per cent to 39.8.

She arrives in Washington as the first Generation Z woman elected to Congress and the first Black woman to represent Colorado in the House. She is a democratic socialist, endorsed by the DSA, Justice Democrats and Senator Bernie Sanders. Her campaign was about rents, healthcare and corporate money in politics, and, most controversially, about Gaza. She was fired from a New York law firm in 2023 after refusing to take down an essay defending student protesters.

That essay is where Ethiopia enters the story. Born in Addis Ababa and raised in Denver after her father won the US diversity visa lottery, Kiros wrote it explicitly as a woman from Tigray. In it she described the war of 2020–22 as genocidal and named the perpetrators as the Ethiopian and Eritrean governments. She wrote of three years spent alongside the Tigrayan diaspora pressing for international recognition, and of her father being in Mekelle during the official mourning period of October 2023. In a Denver interview this July, she again described a genocide in Tigray and warned that conflict there might be erupting again. Within weeks, it was.

“Addis Ababa now faces, inside the US legislature, a member whose formative political cause was the indictment of the Ethiopian state.”

Some caution is in order. Kiros campaigned on Denver, not on the Horn of Africa, and a first-term member of the House has little direct leverage over foreign policy. Her rhetoric on Tigray has also been contested from more than one direction: one critic, writing in the pro-Israel JNS, accused her of using Tigray selectively to sharpen her case on Gaza, while some in the Ethiopian diaspora dispute the genocide framing she adopts. And, contrary to what is being said in some diaspora circles, there is no public record of any organisational tie between Kiros and the TPLF. Her stated position is an indictment of Addis Ababa and Asmara, not an endorsement of any Tigrayan faction.

But the symbolism matters, and so does the platform. A member of Congress can write letters, place statements in the record, question officials at hearings, and give visibility to constituents and advocates. For a government that has spent years insisting that the language of genocide is a foreign fabrication, a voice of that kind inside the institution that shapes American aid and sanctions policy is not a trivial development.

Washington II: The Courtroom

The same day Denver voted, Abraham Teklu Lemma, a 54-year-old naturalised American of Ethiopian descent from Silver Spring, Maryland, pleaded guilty to conspiring to transmit US national defence information to the government of the Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia. The US Attorney for the District of Columbia, Jeanine Pirro, announced the plea; the Justice Department’s national security division called it an extraordinary betrayal.

The facts admitted are stark. Lemma worked as an IT contractor at the State Department, the Justice Department and the National Reconnaissance Office, holding a top-secret clearance. From 2021 until his arrest in August 2023, he removed classified material, including satellite imagery, maps and intelligence reports, from secure facilities and sent it to senior Ethiopian officials in political, military and intelligence roles. According to prosecutors, he hoped the material would help those officials target and kill paramilitary fighters in a regional conflict, and urged them to finish their armed opponents once and for all. Associated Press reporting says he encouraged the use of drones. An FBI counterintelligence official said Lemma admitted that Ethiopian officials used the intelligence in military operations.

The Justice Department has not named the conflict or the armed groups. The period covered, 2021 to 2023, spans the Tigray war, the Amhara insurgency and the conflict in Oromia, and those distinctions matter: which civilians lived beneath which drone strikes is the question this case raises and does not yet answer. Lemma faces between ten years and twenty-one years and ten months under the plea agreement, subject to the court’s approval, and is due to be sentenced on 14 April 2027. The Ethiopian government has made no public statement.

“A government that suspends a newspaper for harming diplomacy has just been named in an American espionage plea.”

Addis Ababa: The Silence

On Monday 2 November, the Ethiopian Media Authority announced on Facebook that it had suspended, indefinitely and with immediate effect, the registration of Media and Communication Center PLC, publisher of the Amharic Reporter and the English-language The Reporter, together with its digital platforms. The authority invoked Media Proclamation No. 1238/2021 and said a year of monitoring had found repeated legal and ethical breaches.

The charges were vague in the way such charges usually are: content contrary to Ethiopia’s national interests; sensationalised coverage of sensitive political and economic matters; selective reporting from national forums; and distorted information harmful to foreign investment, tourism and diplomacy. The suspension is to last until the paper meets what the authority calls its legal and professional obligations, conditions it did not define.

The timing was pointed. Two days earlier, The Reporter had run an editorial titled “Press Freedom Is Not A Luxury!”, warning that Ethiopia’s private press was in one of the most precarious periods in its history. The suspension fell on the UN’s International Day to End Impunity for Crimes against Journalists. The paper had already been barred from covering the House of Peoples’ Representatives since late last year, and its journalists have been arrested before. Human Rights Watch notes that it was the country’s last privately owned Amharic newspaper.

The pattern is familiar to readers of this paper. Ethiopia ranks 148th of 180 countries in the Reporters Without Borders index; RSF counts five journalists in detention, four of them on terrorism charges. This year alone has seen the expulsion of the French correspondent Augustine Passilly, and further licence actions against other outlets. The Reporter, a bilingual institution of more than two decades, is not a partisan or fringe outlet. That is precisely why its suspension is a statement.

The Ledger: What It Costs Addis Ababa

Put the three stories side by side, and the contradictions become the analysis.

The diplomacy charge turned inside out. The Media Authority suspended The Reporter partly for publishing content that harms Ethiopia’s diplomacy. Within a day, a US federal court recorded that officials of the Ethiopian government had received stolen top-secret American intelligence for more than two years. No headline in an Addis Ababa newspaper could do the damage to Ethiopian–American relations that the plea record does. The regulator’s logic, that diplomatic harm comes from journalists, collapses on contact with the facts.

The sovereignty narrative under strain. The government’s posture in the Tigray, Amhara and Oromia conflicts has rested on sovereignty: these are internal security operations, and foreign commentary is interference. The Lemma case shows the state reaching into the secure systems of a foreign government to prosecute those operations. It also hands American critics a concrete question: did US intelligence, obtained illegally, inform strikes in which civilians died? Congress has every reason to ask, and now has a member with a personal stake in the answer.

The silence that compounds. Addis Ababa has said nothing about Lemma. It has said a great deal about The Reporter. The asymmetry is revealing: a government confident in its conduct would answer an espionage plea and tolerate a critical newspaper. This one is doing the opposite. With the domestic press curtailed, Ethiopians are left to learn about their own government’s intelligence operations from American court filings and foreign wires.

The diaspora as a political arena. Kiros’s election and Lemma’s plea come from the same diaspora, and from opposite ends of it. One is a Tigrayan-born critic who turned grievance into elected office; the other an Ethiopian-born insider who turned access into service to the state, by his own admission urging it to finish its enemies. Ethiopia’s conflicts are no longer contained within its borders. They are fought in Denver precincts, in Maryland server rooms and in the comment sections of diaspora media. A government that cannot tolerate The Reporter at home will find it far harder to manage a diaspora that now includes a member of Congress.

“Ethiopians are left to learn about their own government’s intelligence operations from American court filings.”

The timing of the war. All of this lands after the collapse of the Pretoria Agreement and the federal offensive in Tigray this autumn. Washington has applied pressure in more than one direction, including visa restrictions on TPLF hardliners, which this paper has covered. A neutral American posture depends on confidence that Addis Ababa is a reliable partner. The Lemma plea does not end that confidence, but it gives every sceptic in the State Department and on Capitol Hill a file to point to.

Coda

In Dickens, the two cities are bound together by the people who move between them. So it is here. The same week a Tigrayan daughter of Addis Ababa won the right to speak in the American Congress, the Ethiopian state took away the right of its oldest independent newspaper to speak in Addis Ababa. And the only detailed public account of how that state hunted its armed opponents came not from its own press, which it is busy closing, but from a federal courtroom in Washington.

There is a lesson in that for the Ethiopian authorities, if they wish to learn it. Suppressing The Reporter will not stop Ethiopia’s story from being told. It only ensures that it will increasingly be told elsewhere, by others, and on their terms.

◆ ◆ ◆

Opinion · Economy & Governance

The glittering façade and the miserable reality of a nation in distress

By Professor Girma Berhanu

Boulevards are widened, buildings rise and the night is lit up, while nearly two-thirds of Ethiopians live on less than USD 4.20 a day. Professor Girma Berhanu argues that a government which offers spectacle in place of welfare, security and accountability has confused the look of progress with the thing itself.

There is something profoundly disturbing, morally indefensible and politically grotesque about a country where glittering boulevards coexist with grinding poverty; where decorative lights illuminate the night while millions struggle to secure their next meal; and where monumental buildings rise against a backdrop of collapsing public trust, insecurity and widespread human suffering. This is the tragic paradox of contemporary Ethiopia under the incumbent government: a spectacle of urban splendour unfolding alongside an abyss of socioeconomic misery and political instability.

Beneath the dazzling façade of modernisation lies a nation confronting an increasingly unbearable socioeconomic predicament. For millions of ordinary Ethiopians, poverty, hunger, deprivation and uncertainty have become defining features of everyday existence. The economic hardship experienced by large sections of the population raises fundamental questions about the government’s development priorities and its understanding of public responsibility.

The Arithmetic of Hunger

According to the World Bank’s Poverty and Equity Brief for Ethiopia (October 2026), almost two-thirds of Ethiopians (63.7 per cent) live on less than USD 4.20 a day, the poverty line the Bank uses for lower-middle-income countries. Close to four in ten (38.6 per cent) fall below the international extreme poverty line of USD 3.00 a day, and more than nine in ten (93.5 per cent) live on less than USD 8.30. For millions, this means an existence characterised not simply by poverty but by a relentless struggle for survival. Food insecurity, malnutrition, inadequate housing, unsafe drinking water, inaccessible transport and insufficient health care remain serious challenges. The suffering of children, particularly those affected by malnutrition and stunted growth, and of elderly citizens facing hunger and destitution, raises profound questions about the country’s political and economic priorities.

Meanwhile, inflation continues to erode purchasing power, placing essential commodities beyond the reach of ordinary households. Persistent inflationary pressures, structural economic weaknesses, mounting indebtedness and declining economic confidence further complicate an already precarious situation. External debt and fiscal vulnerabilities raise troubling questions about economic sustainability, the prospects of future generations, and the state’s capacity to meet its obligations without imposing additional hardship on an impoverished population.

A Crisis of Trust and Security

Yet the economic crisis represents only one dimension of Ethiopia’s unfolding tragedy. The erosion of public confidence in government institutions has become equally consequential. Trust, an indispensable foundation of political legitimacy, has been undermined by widespread perceptions of corruption, authoritarian governance, institutional weakness and impunity. A government increasingly estranged from the lived experiences and aspirations of its citizens cannot indefinitely compensate for diminishing public trust through propaganda, monumental projects or choreographed spectacles of national grandeur.

Even more devastating is the deterioration of peace and security across substantial parts of the country. Armed conflicts, mass displacement, communal violence and persistent insecurity have inflicted enormous suffering on civilian populations. Reports and allegations of extrajudicial detention, unlawful killings, war crimes, mass atrocities and other grave human rights violations demand independent investigation, accountability and an unwavering commitment to justice. The increasing reliance on coercion and repression, rather than dialogue, reconciliation and democratic accommodation, raises serious questions about the governing approach of the incumbent administration.

The Showcase

Against this distressing backdrop, however, the government proudly showcases its urban transformation projects: widened boulevards, elegant walkways, expansive parks, imposing edifices, decorative lighting and ambitious digitalisation initiatives. These developments are presented as evidence of progress, modernisation and national renaissance.

To be fair, urban infrastructure, public spaces and digital technologies can be valuable instruments of development. Cities need roads, parks, efficient public services and modern infrastructure. Digitalisation can improve governance, facilitate transactions and enhance administrative efficiency.

The problem, therefore, is not modernisation itself. The problem is modernisation divorced from human welfare, social justice, economic inclusion and political accountability.

What moral or developmental justification can there be for an urban landscape of dazzling sophistication when millions remain trapped in hunger, homelessness, unemployment and deprivation? What meaningful achievement is represented by decorative illumination when children are denied adequate nutrition, elderly citizens face destitution, and displaced families struggle to survive? What is the significance of digital sophistication when citizens lack fundamental freedoms, institutional accountability and personal security?

These questions expose a fundamental contradiction in the government’s developmental narrative: the substitution of spectacular visibility for substantive progress, and the privileging of architectural grandeur over human dignity.

“Decorative lighting cannot dispel the darkness of repression. Monumental architecture cannot conceal the erosion of public trust.”

Modernisation Without Welfare

The contradiction becomes even more pronounced when digitalisation and urban beautification receive extraordinary public attention while the essential foundations of a functioning state (security, justice, institutional integrity and public confidence) remain gravely compromised. Technology cannot substitute for political legitimacy. Decorative lighting cannot dispel the darkness of repression. Monumental architecture cannot conceal the erosion of public trust. Nor can urban beautification compensate for the destruction of livelihoods and the disintegration of social cohesion.

Ultimately, development must be measured not by the brightness of streetlights, the breadth of boulevards or the magnificence of government buildings, but by the quality of human life. Its genuine indicators are the nutritional status of children, the dignity of elderly citizens, the affordability of food, the availability of housing, access to health care, the security of communities, and the freedom of citizens to live without fear.

A nation cannot credibly celebrate prosperity when its children suffer malnutrition, its elderly face hunger, its citizens are displaced, and its communities remain engulfed in violence. Nor can a government adequately demonstrate developmental success by pointing exclusively to the visible manifestations of modernisation while profound and pervasive human suffering persists.

The tragedy of Ethiopia today is not simply that poverty and political repression coexist with urban beautification. It is that the spectacle of beautification is increasingly presented as though it were an adequate response to the country’s existential crises.

The Measure of a Government

The bottom line is as heartbreaking as it is politically consequential: undernourished and stunted children, impoverished elderly citizens, displaced families and struggling communities stand bewildered beneath decorative lights and glittering urban landscapes that appear to celebrate a prosperity they themselves have yet to experience.

This is not development in its fullest human sense. It is a disturbing juxtaposition of glitter and deprivation, spectacle and suffering, ostentation and despair.

It is, indeed, apocalyptic suffering in Sin and Tinsel Town.

History will ultimately judge a government not by the lights it switches on, the buildings it erects or the boulevards it widens, but by the lives it protects, the hunger it alleviates, the freedoms it respects, the peace it secures, and the dignity it restores, or fails to restore, to its people.

“A country is not illuminated merely because its streets are brightly lit. It is illuminated when its people are free, fed, secure and dignified.”

References

World Bank. (2026). Poverty & Equity Brief: Ethiopia, October 2026. World Bank Group. https://documents1.worldbank.org/curated/en/099559004212518954/pdf/IDU-74184097-0606-4f26-a1b5-135f87d3c88c.pdf

World Bank. (2026). Poverty, Prosperity, and Planet Report 2026: Jobs at the Center of Poverty Eradication. World Bank Group. https://doi.org/10.1596/978-1-4648-2342-8

About the author: Girma Berhanu is Professor in the Department of Education and Special Education at the University of Gothenburg, Sweden, and a regular contributor to The Ethiopian Tribune.

THE ETHIOPIAN TRIBUNE

HISTORY · ANNIVERSARY

Tikimt 23: The Weight of a Crown

Ninety-six years ago today, a regent named Tafari became Emperor Haile Selassie I. To understand Ethiopia’s twentieth century, its triumphs and its unfinished reckonings, one must understand how he reached that throne and what he did with it.

By Endex

2 November 2026 · Tikimt 23, 2019 E.C.

On Tikimt 23, 1923 in our calendar, 2 November 1930 in the world’s, the bells of St George’s Cathedral in Addis Ababa rang for a coronation the world had been invited to watch. Abuna Qerellos placed the crown on the head of a slight, composed man of thirty-eight. He took the throne name Haile Selassie, “Power of the Trinity”, with the full style of Negusa Nagast, King of Kings, Elect of God, Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah.

He would be the last to wear that crown. Within forty-four years the dynasty that claimed descent from Solomon and Makeda would be swept away by soldiers in a single September morning. Between those two dates lies the most consequential reign in modern Ethiopian history.

This essay is offered for education, not hagiography. It traces the road to that November morning, the institutions he built, the war that nearly erased the state, the diplomacy that made Addis Ababa the capital of Africa, the reforms it attempted, and the revolution that ended it all. Our young readers in particular deserve the whole story, not the poster version favoured by either his admirers or his detractors.

◆◆◆

“A boy from Ejersa Goro, born in the shadow of Adwa”

Tafari Makonnen was born on 23 July 1892 at Ejersa Goro, near Harar. His father was Ras Makonnen Wolde Mikael, cousin and closest confidant of Emperor Menelik II. His mother, Weyzero Yeshimebet Ali, died when he was an infant.

The Ethiopia of his childhood had just done something no other African state managed in that era. On 1 March 1896, at Adwa, Menelik’s armies destroyed an Italian invasion force. The Treaty of Addis Ababa that followed recognised Ethiopian independence, and Adwa became a beacon for colonised peoples everywhere.

Ras Makonnen fought at Adwa and then served as Menelik’s diplomat abroad, including at the coronation of Edward VII in London in 1902. He was among the first Ethiopian nobles to see Europe’s railways, schools and ministries up close. He made sure his son learned French and was taught by Catholic missionaries in Harar, alongside the traditional church education every noble child received.

When Ras Makonnen died in 1906, the fourteen-year-old Tafari was brought to Menelik’s court. He was given governorships in Selale, then Sidamo, then in 1910 his father’s own province of Harar. These were his first lessons in administration, taxation and the difficult art of managing powerful men.

◆◆◆

“On the feast of the Cross, a throne changed hands”

Menelik suffered a series of strokes from 1906 onwards and died in December 1913. His chosen heir was his grandson, Lij Iyasu, a young man of energy and real ambition. Iyasu reached out to Muslim and Oromo communities in ways that alarmed the Shewan nobility and the Church.

His courtship of the Ottoman Empire and Germany during the First World War also alarmed the British, French and Italian legations. The accusation that he had abandoned the Orthodox faith, much of it propaganda, gave his enemies their pretext. On 27 September 1916, during Meskel, the nobility and the Church deposed him.

Menelik’s daughter, Zewditu, became Empress, crowned on 11 February 1917. Tafari, then twenty-four, was named Balemulu Silt’an Enderase (regent plenipotentiary) and heir to the throne. Iyasu’s father, Negus Mikael of Wollo, marched on the capital but was defeated at the Battle of Segale on 27 October 1916.

It was an uneasy partnership. Zewditu was devout and conservative, surrounded by the old guard. Tafari was patient, quietly reformist, and increasingly the face of Ethiopia to the outside world. For fourteen years, two centres of authority coexisted in one palace compound.

◆◆◆

“Adwa had won independence, but not security”

Tafari understood that Adwa had won Ethiopia’s independence, but not its security. Surrounded by British, French and Italian colonies, the country needed recognition as a member of the community of nations. His regency was a patient campaign to secure exactly that.

• The League of Nations (1923). Ethiopia was admitted on 28 September 1923, one of very few African members. Britain and Italy had objected, citing slavery. The condition of entry was a commitment to end the slave trade.
• The slavery question. Edicts in 1923 and 1924 banned the trade and provided for gradual emancipation. Enforcement was uneven, and final abolition would not come until 1942. Still, the regent made the issue a national commitment rather than a foreign accusation.
• The European tour (1924). Tafari travelled through Palestine, Egypt, France, Belgium, Sweden, Italy, Britain, Greece and other states. He studied schools, hospitals and factories, and he sought, without success, a port on the Red Sea.
• Schools and the press. The Tafari Makonnen School opened in 1925. A printing press produced the weekly Berhanena Selam (“Light and Peace”) from 1925, a forum for a new generation of Ethiopian reformist intellectuals.
• A crown before the crown (1928). After facing down a palace challenge by Dejazmach Balcha Safo, Tafari was crowned Negus (King) on 7 October 1928, still under the Empress.

The final contest came from Ras Gugsa Welle, governor of Begemder and Zewditu’s estranged husband. He rose in rebellion in 1930 and was killed at the Battle of Anchem on 31 March 1930, where the regent’s forces used aircraft for the first time in Ethiopian warfare. Two days later, on 2 April 1930, Empress Zewditu died. The road to the throne was clear.

◆◆◆

“At dawn on Tikimt 23, the world came to watch”

The coronation was designed as a message to the world: Ethiopia was an ancient Christian monarchy, a sovereign equal, and not a territory awaiting a colonial master. Seven months of preparation transformed the capital. Roads were laid, electric lights strung, buildings refaced and a monument raised.

The guest list was itself diplomacy. Britain sent the Duke of Gloucester, son of King George V. France sent Marshal Franchet d’Espèrey; Italy, the Prince of Udine; the United States, a special envoy. Delegations came from Belgium, Egypt, Germany, Japan, Sweden, the Netherlands and others. Journalists followed, among them Evelyn Waugh, whose mocking accounts later fed his novels.

“Ethiopia was an ancient Christian monarchy, a sovereign equal, and not a territory awaiting a colonial master.”

The rite itself followed the ancient Ge’ez liturgy of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church. Through the night the clergy chanted. At dawn, Abuna Qerellos anointed the Emperor and invested him with the regalia: the robe, the sword, the sceptre, the orb, the ring, the twin spears and finally the crown. Empress Menen Asfaw was then crowned beside him, a reminder that the throne was a household as well as an office.

Far away in Jamaica, some heard something else. To certain readers of scripture there, a Black king crowned before the princes of Europe seemed to fulfil prophecy. From that reading grew the Rastafari movement, which still bears his pre-coronation name. Whatever one makes of its theology, it shows how far the image of Tikimt 23 travelled.

◆◆◆

“A strong crown before a strong parliament”

Within nine months the Emperor gave Ethiopia its first written constitution, proclaimed on 16 July 1931. It created a two-chamber parliament, the first in the country’s history. But the senate was appointed by the Emperor, the lower house was chosen by the nobility, and sovereignty remained explicitly in the person of the monarch.

Later critics called this power drawn to the centre. Its defenders answer that a country whose regional lords had nearly torn it apart in 1916 and again in 1930 needed a strong crown before it could afford a strong parliament. Centralisation, in their view, was the precondition of national unity and of survival among colonial neighbours.

The same years saw the foundations of a modern state:

• The Bank of Ethiopia (1931) replaced the foreign-owned Bank of Abyssinia and issued a national currency.
• Ministries and a salaried bureaucracy began to replace a court run through personal retainers.
• A modern army took shape, with foreign military advisers, the Imperial Guard, and the Holeta military school opened in 1934.
• Students sent abroad, to Europe, the United States and Lebanon, formed the first cohort of Western-educated Ethiopians. Many would die in the coming war.

The time was short. Mussolini’s Italy had not forgotten Adwa.

◆◆◆

“Abandoned in Ethiopia, abandoned everywhere”

The pretext was a skirmish at the wells of Walwal in the Ogaden on 5 December 1934. Ethiopia took the dispute to the League of Nations, as a member was entitled to do. The League temporised. On 3 October 1935, Italy invaded without a declaration of war.

The League named Italy the aggressor and imposed sanctions, but left out oil, the one measure that might have stopped the war. In December, Britain’s Hoare and France’s Laval even drafted a secret plan to hand Italy much of Ethiopia; public outrage killed it. Meanwhile Italian aircraft sprayed mustard gas on soldiers, civilians, villages and livestock, in open violation of the 1925 Geneva Protocol.

The Emperor led his army in person at Maychew on 31 March 1936 and was defeated. On 2 May he left Addis Ababa by train for Djibouti; three days later Marshal Badoglio’s troops entered the capital. The decision to leave remains debated. Some saw desertion; others saw the only way to keep Ethiopia’s legal existence alive.

On 30 June 1936 he stood before the League Assembly in Geneva, jeered by Italian journalists in the gallery, and spoke for every small nation. His warning, in substance, was that collective security abandoned in Ethiopia would be abandoned everywhere: today it is us, tomorrow it will be you. Within four years Europe was at war, and the speech had become prophecy.

“Collective security abandoned in Ethiopia would be abandoned everywhere.”

He spent the exile largely at Fairfield House in Bath, England, living modestly while his envoys, among them Dr Workneh Martin in London, kept Ethiopia’s case alive. At home the occupation was savage. After an attempt on Viceroy Graziani’s life on Yekatit 12 (19 February 1937), Italian forces and Blackshirts massacred thousands in Addis Ababa. That May, the monks and deacons of Debre Libanos were executed.

Yet the country was never pacified. The Arbegnoch, the patriots, fought on in Shewa, Gojjam, Begemder and beyond, led by figures such as Ras Abebe Aregai, Belay Zeleke and Shewareged Gedle. When Italy entered the Second World War in June 1940, Britain at last became an ally. The Emperor crossed back into Gojjam from Sudan on 20 January 1941 with Gideon Force and the patriots. On 5 May 1941, exactly five years after the Italians took Addis Ababa, he re-entered his capital.

◆◆◆

“The nation the League forsook helped build its successor”

Liberation did not bring full sovereignty at once. Britain treated Ethiopia almost as a protectorate under the 1942 Anglo-Ethiopian Agreement, and the Emperor spent years prising control back. The 1944 agreement restored most of it. The Ogaden and the railway zone took longer.

What followed were the reign’s most celebrated achievements:

• Founding member of the United Nations (1945). The country the League abandoned helped build its successor.
• Ethiopian Airlines (1945). Founded in December 1945, it flew its first service in 1946 and grew into one of the continent’s great carriers.
• Korea (1951–1954). The Kagnew Battalion fought under the UN flag, a practical defence of the collective security he had pleaded for in Geneva. Ethiopian troops later served with the UN in the Congo from 1960.
• A national Church (1948–1959). After centuries under Egyptian Coptic metropolitans, the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church gained its own bishops, and in 1959 its first patriarch, Abune Basilios.
• Higher education. University College of Addis Ababa opened in 1950 and became Haile Selassie I University in 1961, producing Ethiopia’s first modern professional class.
• The revised Constitution (1955). Proclaimed for the silver jubilee, it added a chapter of rights and an elected Chamber of Deputies, first chosen in 1957. Modern penal, civil and commercial codes followed between 1957 and 1965.
• Eritrea (1952). A UN resolution federated Eritrea with Ethiopia in 1952, restoring access to the sea. In 1962 the federation was dissolved and Eritrea annexed, a decision whose consequences still bleed today.

The crowning diplomatic act came in May 1963. The UN Economic Commission for Africa had already been seated in Addis Ababa in 1958. On 25 May 1963, thirty-two newly independent African states gathered in Africa Hall and founded the Organisation of African Unity, headquartered in Addis Ababa. The Emperor’s mediation between rival blocs of African states made the agreement possible. Africa Day is still celebrated on that date.

In April 1966 he visited Jamaica and was met by tens of thousands of Rastafari at Kingston airport. The orphan of Ejersa Goro had become one of the most recognised figures on earth.

◆◆◆

“Reform raced against revolution, and revolution won”

The first warning came from inside the palace. In December 1960, while the Emperor was on a state visit to Brazil, the commander of the Imperial Guard, Brigadier-General Mengistu Neway, and his brother Germame seized the capital. The army, the air force, the Church and the people of Addis Ababa rallied to the throne, and the coup collapsed within days. To many Ethiopians that loyalty proved how deeply the crown was rooted; to a restless few, it proved the crown could be challenged.

The questions of the 1960s were real, and the imperial government did not ignore them:

• Land. Ethiopian land tenure was ancient and intricate: inherited rist rights in the north, gult privileges held by nobility and Church, and newer tenancies in the south. The government created a Ministry of Land Reform and Administration in 1966, abolished the remaining gult privileges, and in 1967 introduced an agricultural income tax, which provoked an armed revolt in Gojjam in 1968. A tenancy bill to protect southern farmers stalled in a parliament of landholders. Admirers see the foundations of an evolutionary reform; critics see too little, too late.
• The students. The university he founded produced Ethiopia’s first modern professional class, and also its most radical critics. From 1965 a vocal minority marched under the slogan Meret le Arashu, “Land to the Tiller”. Many were drawn to imported Marxist-Leninist doctrine, which recast Ethiopia’s distinctive history in categories borrowed from European class struggle. The country would pay dearly for that borrowing.
• The periphery. Armed struggle began in Eritrea in 1961 and hardened after the federation ended. A long revolt ran in Bale from 1963 to 1970. Somali irredentism over the Ogaden flared into war in 1964.
• The succession. The Emperor was past eighty. Crown Prince Asfa Wossen suffered a severe stroke in 1973, and no settled plan existed for the transition.

Then came Wollo. Famine in 1972–73 cost tens of thousands of lives, and provincial officials minimised its scale; how fully the Emperor himself was informed is still debated. In October 1973 Jonathan Dimbleby’s documentary The Unknown Famine brought it to the world. On the eve of the deposition the Derg broadcast it on Ethiopian television intercut with scenes of palace luxury, a calculated piece of propaganda designed to turn reverence into rage.

“They dared not lay hands on a man so many still regarded as the Elect of God until they had first eroded that faith.”

In early 1974 army units mutinied over pay and conditions, and the oil shock brought teachers, taxi drivers and students onto the streets. A committee of junior officers, the Derg, formed in June and dismantled the old order piece by piece in a “creeping coup”. The soldiers moved slowly for a reason: they dared not lay hands on a man so many still regarded as the Elect of God until they had first eroded that faith. On 12 September 1974, the day after Enkutatash, he was deposed and driven from the palace in a Volkswagen.

What followed tested every accusation made against the old order. On 23 November 1974 the Derg executed some sixty former officials without trial. In March 1975 it abolished the monarchy and nationalised all rural land, denying the farmer ownership of the very plot the slogan had promised him. On 27 August 1975 state media announced the Emperor’s death; it is widely believed he was murdered. The Red Terror of 1977–78 killed tens of thousands of young Ethiopians, and the famine of 1984–85 claimed far more lives than Wollo had.

His remains were found in 1992, buried beneath the palace grounds. On 5 November 2000 he was laid to rest in Holy Trinity Cathedral beside Empress Menen, mourned by thousands who still called him Janhoy.

◆◆◆

“Faith, crown and nation, weighed honestly”

For half a century Haile Selassie has mostly been judged through one lens: the Marxist-Leninist narrative of the student movement and the Derg, which taught a generation to see the crown only as “feudal” oppression. That framework was itself an ideology, imported and then imposed by force. Our young readers deserve better than inherited slogans from any side, and an independent reading must hear at least four voices.

To the faithful, he was the Elect of God. For millions of Ethiopians the Emperor was never merely a ruler. In the tradition of the Kebra Nagast and the Church’s coronation rite, the Solomonic king was anointed, the defender of the faith and the father of the nation. People called him Janhoy, bowed as he passed, and read his return from exile as providence. That reverence was not servility: it was the bond that held a vast and diverse realm together, and its violent destruction left a void that ideology and the gun rushed to fill. Rastafari across the world carry a form of that devotion still.

To the constitutionalist, he was the father of Ethiopian law and rights. The 1931 Constitution was the country’s first. The 1955 Constitution added a chapter of rights: equality before the law, freedom of speech, press and assembly within the law, protection of property, and an elected chamber. Modern penal, civil and commercial codes followed between 1957 and 1965. Monarchists argue this was a gradual path toward constitutional monarchy, of the kind Britain, Sweden and Japan had travelled, which the revolution cut short. Critics reply that political parties were never permitted and that rights on paper were narrower in practice.

To the nationalist, he was the guardian of independence. Geneva in 1936, the return of 1941, the seat at the founding of the UN, the restoration of the sea through Eritrea and the OAU in Addis Ababa: no African leader of his century carried his country’s name further.

To his critics, he left too much unresolved. Land, the succession, the place of Ethiopia’s many nations and the hunger in Wollo were not settled in time, and a system so dependent on one revered person could not outlast his old age.

“Institutions built over centuries should be reformed with care, not torn down in a season.”

An honest verdict weighs all four. It acknowledges that the crown did not reform fast enough to save itself. It also records that the alternative imposed in 1974 in the name of the peasant took the land from everyone, killed more of the young than any emperor, and presided over a deadlier famine. For a publication committed to accountability, the lesson of Tikimt 23 is neither nostalgia nor contempt. Institutions built over centuries, the crown, the Church, the law and the memory of Adwa, should be reformed with care rather than torn down in a season, and rights written into a constitution must be lived as well as proclaimed.

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“Forty-four years, at a glance”

Endex is Chief Editor of The Ethiopian Tribune.

OPEN LETTER

An Open Letter to U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio and Ambassador Ervin Massinga

On the subversion of the Amhara self-defence movement, the mandate of the AFNM/AFS (“Tsimedo”) platform, and the threat to the life of Eskinder Nega

By Dr. Sosena Tadesse

Published 30 October 2026

From: Dr. Sosena Tadesse

To:

• The Honorable Marco Rubio, Secretary of State, United States Department of State
• Ambassador Ervin Massinga, U.S. Ambassador to Ethiopia
• Members of the International Diplomatic Corps, Human Rights Organizations, and Policy Makers

Date: October 27, 2026

Subject: Diplomatic Notice: The Subversion of the Amhara Self-Defense Movement, the Illegitimacy of the Foreign-Backed “AFNM/AFS” Proxy Platform, and the Imminent Threat to the Life of Eskinder Nega

Dear Secretary Rubio, Ambassador Massinga, and Esteemed Diplomats,

I am writing this open letter as an Amhara scholar and human rights advocate to bring to your immediate attention critical political and security developments in Ethiopia. Specifically, this notice addresses the systematic hijacking of the Amhara people’s existential self-defense struggle by external proxy platforms, the complete lack of mandate of the entity known as AFNM / AFS (“Tsimedo”), and the severe, immediate threat to the life of veteran human rights defender and political leader Eskinder Nega.

Since the world has already attested to journalist Eskinder’s stature as a great man who has fought for justice, equality, and democracy, I will not waste time describing his heroism. Following nearly seven years of wrongful imprisonment and persecution by the TPLF-led EPRDF regime, Secretary Marco Rubio previously advocated on Eskinder Nega’s behalf and met with him in Washington, D.C., stating:

“After advocating on his behalf, I was honored to meet with Ethiopian journalist Eskinder Nega, who is finally free after being wrongly imprisoned for almost 7 years. His case is a reminder of why we must continue to advocate for #humanrights worldwide #ExpressionNOToppression.”

1. Four Years of Enduring Sacrifice and the Subversion of Resistance Structures

Eskinder Nega is an iconic figure of contemporary Ethiopian political history. Having dedicated three decades to nonviolent democratic advocacy, he fearlessly exposed systemic governance failures and documented identity-based atrocities against the Amhara population. Over the past four years, he has endured extreme physical hardship in the field, standing alongside rural communities to resist state-sponsored mass atrocities and genocide.

The current armed conflict escalated when the Prosperity Party regime implemented a policy attempting to disarm the Amhara Special Forces and local Fano self-defense units while leaving the armed structures of the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) intact. Amhara self-defense forces rejected this discriminatory mandate, stating clearly: “We will not disarm while the anti-Amhara TPLF forces—who waged a brutal genocide against our people—remain fully armed.” Systemic discrimination and unchecked massacres further catalyzed a region-wide popular uprising.

To establish institutional cohesion, Eskinder founded the Amhara Popular Front (APF) and was subsequently elected by a strong democratic mandate to lead the Amhara Fano Popular Organization (AFPO/አፋሕድ) for over 19 months. However, political operatives linked to former ANDM/TPLF networks systematically subverted these principled structures. They ultimately forced the dissolution of AFPO to construct AFNM (አፋብን)—an entity transformed into a proxy tool serving external regional agendas and political brokers.

2. Documentary Evidence of Subversion: Eskinder Nega’s Official Declarations

The subversion of the Amhara struggle is formally documented through Eskinder Nega’s official statements:

• August 24, 2026 (Official Interview with Deutsche Welle / DW):

Eskinder publicly rejected unrepresentative coalitions, stating: “The ‘Tsimedo‘ alliance being formed without the knowledge or consent of the broader Fano membership is completely unacceptable.”

He further warned of imminent physical danger, revealing: “I am facing repeated assassination attempts from state military forces as well as armed militants who currently prefer to remain unnamed.”

• September 22, 2026 (Message Following Zemene Kasse’s Tigrai TV Announcement):

Following Zemene Kasse’s September 20 broadcast on Tigrai TV announcing the formation of the “Alliance for Survival,” Eskinder exposed that AFNM leadership—without member knowledge or consent—aligned with armed groups hostile to the Amhara population (specifically the TPLF, OLF-Shene, and the Gumuz Liberation Movement). He stressed: “These entities have been documented by independent international human rights bodies as primary perpetrators of identity-based mass atrocities against Amhara civilians over the past eight years, carrying severe legal and moral accountability.”

• October 27, 2026 (Formal Resignation Letter to the AFNM Politburo):

In his formal resignation letter, Eskinder exposed the 30-year structural network that orchestrated this takeover:

“The TPLF-aligned ANDM/TPLF network has built a pervasive presence across government, the economy, media, and the diaspora over thirty years. Unlike other groups, this faction sought to directly control Fano from its inception. When that failed, they spent years systematically hijacking emerging Fano structures across the Amhara region. Their hijacking eventually succeeded… Although it remained toothless during three decades of TPLF rule, it has now positioned itself as the primary political and public relations engine within AFNM.”

3. AFNM / AFS (“Tsimedo”): An Unrepresentative Proxy Platform

The platform claiming to represent the Amhara resistance—AFNM / AFS (Tsimedo)—holds zero political, legal, or moral mandate from the Amhara people.

• Reversal of Ground Realities and Territorial Integrity: AFNM/AFS actively seeks to dismantle the self-determination and administrative realities re-established in historic Amhara domains—including Wolkait, Tegede, Telemte, Humera, Korem, Alamata, Waja, Mehoni, and occupied Raya territories. During Ambassador Massinga’s official visit to Wolkait, he directly observed the established administrative realities and the firm resolve of the local Amhara population. The expansionist TPLF seeks these ancestral lands solely to construct a ‘Greater Tigray’ and dismantle Amhara existence; AFNM/AFS attempts to surrender these lands back to facilitate that expansion.
• Collusion with Perpetrators of Atrocities: By aligning with entities responsible for documented massacres of Amhara civilians, the AFS leadership has betrayed the sacrifices of victims and martyrs. As Eskinder Nega observed, this arrangement represents “the ox partnering with its butcher.”

4. Categorical Rejection of Aviation Terrorism and Extremism

The authentic Amhara popular resistance operates strictly within the framework of International Humanitarian Law (IHL) and legitimate self-defense principles. We categorically condemn and distance the Amhara cause from rogue agitators affiliated with the AFS network who incite attacks against civil aviation (including commercial Ethiopian Airlines flights) or critical national infrastructure.

Such incitements constitute international aviation terrorism under the 1971 Montreal Convention. As Secretary Rubio correctly identified, extreme attacks targeting capital infrastructure and civilian transport are the work of terrorist and separatist elements—not the principled, popular self-defense movement of the Amhara people.

5. Immediate Life Threat to Eskinder Nega and Pattern of Internal Assassinations

Eskinder Nega is currently under effective political captivity by internal saboteurs and faces an immediate threat of physical assassination. This TPLF-aligned faction has an established history of orchestrating internal betrayals and targeted liquidations of principled leaders loyal to the Amhara cause—most notably the tragic assassination of Arbegna Kefyalew Desse. Eskinder’s refusal to compromise the Amhara cause to foreign proxy interests has made him the primary target of this same network.

Diplomatic Call to Action

• Urgent Intervention for Eskinder Nega’s Physical Safety: We urge the U.S. Department of State, Ambassador Ervin Massinga, and international human rights bodies (including Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch) to urgently monitor Eskinder Nega’s status and demand his immediate physical protection.
• Formal Rejection of Unrepresentative Proxies: We request that the United States Government and international diplomatic partners formally reject AFNM/AFS, recognizing them as foreign-backed proxy entities operating contrary to the stability of the Horn of Africa.
• Acknowledgment of Public Rejection on the Ground: International observers must take note of widespread public demonstrations across the Amhara region, particularly in Gojjam, where citizens have explicitly denounced AFS forces—publicly marking photographs of figures like Zemene Kasse, Debretsion Gebremichael, and Kumsa Diba (Jaal Marroo) with large red ‘X’s to signal total public repudiation.
• Adherence to Ground Realities and Atrocity Accountability: Any sustainable peace framework in the Horn of Africa must respect the sacrifices of the Amhara people, differentiate authentic Fano self-defense units from unrepresentative proxy coalitions, demand strict accountability for anti-Amhara genocide, and respect the established administrative realities in Wolkait, Tegede, Telemte, Humera, Korem, Alamata, Waja, Mehoni, and Raya.

Sincerely,

Dr. Sosena Tadesse

Advocate for Human Rights and the Amhara Survival Struggle

— The Ethiopian Tribune —

ግልጽ ደብዳቤ

ለተከበሩ የአሜሪካ የውጭ ጉዳይ ሚኒስትር ማርኮ ሩቢኦ እና ለአምባሳደር ኤርቪን ማሲንጋ የተጻፈ ግልጽ ደብዳቤ

ስለ አማራ ህዝብ የህልውና ትግል መጠለፍ፣ ስለ “አፋብን/ፅምዶ/AFS” ህገ–ወጥነት እና በታጋይ እስክንድር ነጋ ህይወት ላይ የተደቀነው አጣዳፊ የግድያ ስጋት

ዶክተር ሶስና ታደሰ

ጥቅምት 20 ቀን 2019 ዓ.ም (30 October 2026)

ከ፦ ዶክተር ሶስና ታደሰ

ለ፦

• ለተከበሩ ማርኮ ሩቢኦ፣ የአሜሪካ መንግሥት የውጭ ጉዳይ ሚኒስትር
• ለአምባሳደር ኤርቪን ማሲንጋ፣ በኢትዮጵያ የአሜሪካ አምባሳደር
• ለአለም አቀፍ የዲፕሎማሲ አካላት፣ ለሰብአዊ መብት ተቋማት እና ለፖሊሲ አውጪዎች

ቀን፦ ጥቅምት 17 ቀን 2019 ዓ.ም (ኦክቶበር 27፣ 2026)

ጉዳዩ፦ ስለ አማራ ህዝብ የህልውና ትግል መጠለፍ፣ ስለ “አፋብን/ፅምዶ/AFS” ህገ-ወጥነት እና በታጋይ እስክንድር ነጋ ህይወት ላይ የተደቀነው አጣዳፊ የግድያ ስጋት

የተከበሩ ሚኒስትር ሩቢኦ፣ አምባሳደር ማሲንጋ እና የተከበራችሁ ዲፕሎማቶች፦

ይህንን ግልጽ ደብዳቤ የምፅፍላችሁ እንደአንድ የአማራ ተወላጅ፣ ምሁር እና የአማራ ህዝብ መብት ተቆርቋሪ ሲሆን፣ ዓላማውም በኢትዮጵያ ውስጥ የአማራ ህዝብ የህልውና የመከላከል ትግል በውስጥና በውጭ ኃይሎች መጠለፉን፣ “አፋብን/ፅምዶ/AFS” በሚል ስም የተዋቀረውን የውጭ ኃይሎች ተላላኪ ስብስብ ህገ-ወጥነት፣ እንዲሁም በታዋቂው የሰብአዊ መብት ተሙጋችና የፖለቲካ አመራር እስክንድር ነጋ ላይ የተደቀነውን አካላዊ አደጋ ማሳወቅ ነው።

ዓለም ጋዜጠኛ እስክንድር ነጋ ለፍትህ፣ ለእኩልነትና ለዲሞክራሲ የታገለ ታላቅ ሰው መሆኑን አረጋግጧል፤ ስለሆነም የእሱን ጀግንነት በመግለጽ ጊዜ አላባክንም። በኢትዮጵያ የሕወሓት መራሹ የኢሕአዴግ መንግሥት የግፍ አገዛዝ ምክንያት ከ7 ዓመታት የእስርና የእንግልት ዘመን በኋላ እስክንድር ነጋን በአሜሪካ ዋሽንግተን ዲሲ ሲያገኙት ሚኒስትር ማርኮ ሩቢኦ እስክንድርን ሲገልፁት እንዲህ ብለው ነበር፦

“After advocating on his behalf, I was honored to meet with Ethiopian journalist Eskinder Nega, who is finally free after being wrongly imprisoned for almost 7 years. His case is a reminder of why we must continue to advocate for #humanrights worldwide #ExpressionNOToppression.”

1. የአራት ዓመታት መስዋዕትነት እና የተጠለፉት ድርጅታዊ መዋቅሮች

የሰብአዊ መብት ተሟጋች ታጋይ እስክንድር ነጋ 3 አሥርት ዓመታትን ለሰላማዊ ዲሞክራሲያዊ ትግል የሰጠ ከመሆኑም በላይ እሳት በሚተፋ ብዕሩ የኢትዮጵያን የፖለቲካ ብልሽት የሞገተ፣ የአማራን ሕዝብ የዘር ማጥፋት ወንጀል በጽሑፎቹ ያሳወቀ፣ ብሎም ላለፉት አራት ዓመታት የአማራን ህዝብ ከጅምላ ጭፍጨፋና ከዘር ማጥፋት (ጄኖሳይድ) ለመታደግ በጫካ ውስጥ በርካታ እንግልቶችን ያሳለፈ የዘመናችን ክስተት ነው።

የኦህዴድ ብልፅግና መንግሥት ከሕወሓት ጋር ባደረገው ስምምነት መሠረት የሕወሓት ታጣቂ ኃይሎች ትጥቅ ሳይፈቱ የአማራን ልዩ ኃይል አባላትና የአማራ ፋኖ ኃይልን ትጥቅ አስፈታለሁ ብሎ የግዳጅ ስምሪት ለማስፈፀም በተንቀሳቀሰበት ወቅት፣ የአማራ ልዩ ኃይልም ሆነ የአማራ ፋኖ “የዘር ማጥፋት ጦርነት ያደረገብን ፀረ–አማራው ሕወሓት ትጥቅ ሳይፈታ እኛ አንፈታም“ በማለት ከኢትዮጵያ መከላከያ ኃይል ጋር ቀጥተኛ ውጊያ መጀመሩ ይታወቃል። በስርዓቱ ይደረጉ የነበሩ መድሏዊ አሰራሮችና የዘር ማጥፋት ወንጀሎች ለትግሉ መቀጣጠል ትልቅ አስተዋፅኦ አድርገዋል።

በዚህ ወቅት እስክንድር ነጋ ትግሉን በአንድ ጥላ ስር ለማሰባሰብ “አማራ ሕዝባዊ ግንባር (APF)”ን የመሰረተ ሲሆን፣ በመቀጠልም በታጋዮች ከፍተኛ ድምፅ ተመርጦ “አማራ ፋኖ ሕዝባዊ ድርጅት (AFPO/አፋሕድ)”ን ከ19 ወራት በላይ መርቷል። ሆኖም ግን ከብአዴንና ሕወሓት መዋቅር ጋር ግንኙነት ያላቸው የውስጥ ሴረኞች ድርጅቱን ለማፍረስ ተንቀሳቅሰዋል። በመጨረሻም አፋሕድ እንዲፈርስ በማድረግ፣ የውጭ ኃይሎችን የጂኦ-ፖለቲካ ቁማር የሚያገለግለውን “አፋብን (AFNM)” የተባለውን ድርጅት ፈጥረዋል።

2. የትግሉ መጠለፍ ማረጋገጫዎች፦ የእስክንድር ነጋ ይፋዊ መግለጫዎች

የአማራ ህዝብ የህልውና ትግል መጠለፉ በእስክንድር ነጋ ይፋዊ መግለጫዎችና ደብዳቤዎች በጥብቅ የተሰነደ እውነታ ነው፦

• ነሐሴ 18 ቀን 2018 ዓ.ም (ከዶቼ ቬለ / DW ጋር ባደረገው ይፋዊ ቃለ-መጠይቅ)፦

እስክንድር ነጋ ህዝባዊ ውክልና የሌላቸውን ጥምረቶች ውድቅ በማድረግ፦ “የመላው የፋኖ አባላት ሳያውቁ የሚደረግ ‘ፅምዶ‘ ተቀባይነት የለውም“ ሲል ተናግሯል።

አክሎም በህይወቱ ላይ የተደቀነውን አጣዳፊ አደጋ ሲገልፅ፦ “ከመንግሥት ወታደራዊ ኃይሎች እና ለጊዜው ስማቸውን መጥቀስ ከማይፈልጉ ታጣቂዎች ተደጋጋሚ የግድያ ሙከራ ይደረግብኛል“ በማለት አስበብቦ ነበር።

• መስከረም 12 ቀን 2019 ዓ.ም (ዘመነ ካሴ በትግራይ ቴሌቪዥን ከሰጠው መግለጫ በኋላ ባስተላለፈው መልእክት)፦

መስከረም 10 ቀን ዘመነ ካሴ በትግራይ ቴሌቪዥን ላይ ወጥቶ “ትብብር ለሕልውና” የሚል ድርጅት መመስረታቸውን መናገሩን ተከትሎ፣ እስክንድር እንደገለጸው፣ አፋብን ያለምንም አባላት እውቅና ከፀረ-አማራና ፀረ-ኢትዮጵያ ኃይሎች (በተለይም ሕወሓት፣ ኦነግ ሸኔ እና ጉምዝ ነፃ አውጭ) ጋር አብሮ ለመሰለፍ መስማማቱ ምንም ዓይነት ተቀባይነት እንደሌለው አጋልጧል።

እነዚህ ኃይሎች፦ “ባለፉት 8 ዓመታት ጭምር በቀጥታ በአማራ ህዝብ ላይ ማንነትን መሰረት ያደረገ የጅምላ ጭፍጨፋ የፈፀሙ የታጠቁ ኃይሎች መሆናቸው በገለልተኛ የሰብአዊ መብት ተቋማት የተረጋገጠባቸውና የህግና የሞራል ተጠያቂነት ያለባቸው ናቸው“ ሲል ገልጿል።

• ጥቅምት 17 ቀን 2019 ዓ.ም (ለአፋብን ፖሊት ቢሮ ባስገባው ይፋዊ የመልቀቂያ ደብዳቤ)፦

እስክንድር ለአፋብን ፖሊት ቢሮ ባስገባው ደብዳቤ የሕወሓትና ሕወሓት አፍቃሪ ብአዴኖች የ30 ዓመት መዋቅራዊ እቅድ ትግሉን እንዴት እንደጠለፈው እንደሚከተለው አብራርቷል፦

“ሕወሓት አፍቃሪው ብአዴን/ሕወሓት በአገዛዙ ውስጥ፣ በኢኮኖሚው ውስጥ፣ በሚዲያው እና በዲያስፖራው ከ30 ዓመታት በላይ የተገነባ ኔትወርክ ያለው ስብስብ ነው። ይህ ስብስብ ከሌሎች አካላት በተለየ መልኩ፣ ፋኖ መንቀሳቀስ ከጀመረበት ጊዜ አንስቶ ራሱ በቀጥታ የሚቆጣጠረውን ፋኖ ለማደራጀት ሙከራ አድርጎ አልሳካለት ሲለው፣ በቀጣይነት፣ በመላው አማራ ክልል ብቅ ብቅ ያሉትን የፋኖ አደረጃጀቶችን ለመጥለፍ ለዓመታት የተንቀሳቀሰ ነው። ከብዙ ልፋት በኋላ ጠለፋው ተሳክቶለትም፣ ‘ጊዜ የሰጠው ቅል ድንጋይ ይሰብራል‘ እንዲሉ፣ ለሦስት አሥርት ዓመታት በዘለቀው የሕወሓት አገዛዝ ዘመን ጥርስ አልባ ሆኖ የኖረ ቢሆንም፣ በአሁኑ ጊዜ በአፋብን ውስጥ ዋነኛው የፖለቲካ እና የሕዝብ ግንኙነት ሥራዎች መዘውር እና ድምፅ ሆኗል።“

3. አፋብን/ፅምዶ (AFS)፦ በፍፁም የህዝብ ውክልና የሌለው የውጭ ኃይሎች ተላላኪ (Proxy Platform) ነው!

የአማራን ህዝባዊ እንቅስቃሴ እወክላለሁ የሚለው ትብብር ለሕልውና/ፅምዶ (AFS) ከአማራ ህዝብ የተሰጠው ምንም ዓይነት ፖለቲካዊ፣ ህጋዊ ወይም ሞራላዊ ስልጣን የለውም።

• የመሬቱን ነባራዊ ሁኔታ መካድ፦ አፋብን/AFS የአማራ ህዝብ ደሙን አፍሶ አጥንቱን ከስክሶ በታሪካዊ የመሬት ባለቤትነቱ ያስከበረውን መብትና ነባራዊ እውነታ ወደ ኋላ በመመለስ ማንነቱንና መሬቱን ለሕወሓት ዳግም ባርነት አሳልፎ ለመስጠት ይሞክራል። ለምሳሌ አምባሳደር ማሲንጋ በወልቃይት ባደረጉት ጉብኝት ወቅት ወልቃይት የአማራ ተወላጆች ርስት መሆኑንና የአካባቢውን ህዝብ ፍላጎት በአካል ተመልክተዋል።
• ከጭፍጨፋ አፈፃሚዎች ጋር የተደረገ ትብብር፦ ከብዙሃኑ የፋኖ ታጋዮች እውቅና ውጭ፣ የሰማዕታትን ደምና የፍትሕ ጥያቄ በመካድ በትብብር ስም ጥምረት በመፍጠር በአማራ ህዝብ ላይ የጅምላ ጭፍጨፋ ከፈፀሙ አካላት ጋር ስብጥር ፈጥሯል። እስክንድር ነጋ እንዳስቀመጠው፣ ይህ ሁኔታ “በሬ ከአራጁ ጋር እንደሚባለው“ ሆኖበታል። ምክንያቱም ፋሽስት ወያኔ ትናንትናም ሆነ ዛሬ ጦር የሚሰብቀውና የሰበቀው አማራን ለማጥፋት እና የአማራ ሕዝብ አጽመ ርስቱ የሆኑትን ወልቃይትን፣ ጠገዴን፣ ጠለምትን፣ ሁመራን፣ ኮረምን፣ አላማጣ፣ ዋጃ፣ መሆኒ እና በወረራ የያዛቸውን የራያ አካባቢዎች ለመውረር እና ታላቋን ትግራይ ለመመስረት ብቻ ነው። ፋሽስት ወያኔ ከዚህ ውጭ የሚዋጋበት ወይንም ከአማራ የሕልውና ትግል ጋር የሚተባበርበት አንዳችም ምክንያት የለውም!!

4. አክራሪነትን እና በሲቪል አቪዬሽን ላይ የተደቀነውን ዛቻ ማውገዝ

እውነተኛው የአማራ ህዝባዊ ትግል የሚንቀሳቀሰው በዓለም አቀፍ የሰብአዊነት ህጎች (IHL) መሠረት ነው። ከፅምዶ/AFS ጋር ተያያዥነት ባላቸው አካላት በሲቪል አቪዬሽን (እንደ የኢትዮጵያ አየር መንገድ ቦይንግ አውሮፕላን) ወይም መሰረተ-ልማቶች ላይ የሚሰነዘሩ የጥቃት ጥሪዎችን በጽኑ እናወግዛለን።

እነዚህ ድርጊቶች በ1971ዱ የሞንትሪያል ኮንቬንሽን መሠረት የዓለም አቀፍ አቪዬሽን ቴረሪዝም ወንጀሎች ናቸው። ሚኒስትር ማርኮ ሩቢኦ በትክክል እንደተረዱት፣ በዋና ከተማውና በመሰረተ-ልማቶች ላይ የሚሰነዘሩ ጥቃቶች ‘የአሸባሪዎች’ እና ‘የተገንጣይ ኃይሎች’ ስራ እንጂ የጸና መርህ ያለውን ህዝባዊ የአማራን የመከላከል ትግል አይወክሉም።

5. በእስክንድር ነጋ ላይ የተደቀነው አጣዳፊ የህይወት አደጋ

በአሜሪካ ፖሊሲ አውጪዎች ዘንድ በደንብ የሚታወቀው እስክንድር ነጋ፣ የአማራን ህዝብ አሳልፎ ለመስጠት እምቢ በማለቱ ምክንያት በውስጥ ሴረኞች ታግቶ ይገኛል፤ እንዲሁም ከተቃዋሚ የታጠቁ ቡድኖች አጣዳፊ የህይወትና የግድያ አደጋ ተደቅኖበታል። እንደሚታወቀው ይህ የሕወሓት አፍቃሪ ቡድን እንደ አርበኛ ከፍያለው ደሴ እና ሌሎች በርካታ ስመ-ጥር የሆኑ ለአማራ ሕዝብ ትግል ታማኝ ታጋዮችን ከውስጥ በሴራ አስገድሏል። በመሆኑም ይህ ተመሳሳይ ድርጊት በእስክንድር ላይ ከመፈፀሙ በፊት አለምአቀፍ የዲፕሎማቲክ ማህበረሰብ ትኩረት እንዲሰጠው ያስፈልጋል

ጥሪያችን፦

• የእስክንድር ነጋን ደህንነት ማረጋገጥ፦ የአሜሪካ ውጭ ጉዳይ ሚኒስቴር፣ አምባሳደር ኤርቪን ማሲንጋ እና ዓለም አቀፍ የሰብአዊ መብት ተቋማት (Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch) የእስክንድር ነጋን ደህንነት በአጣዳፊነት እንዲከታተሉና ከለላ እንዲደረግለት እንዲጠይቁ።
• የተጠለፉ ቡድኖችን ውድቅ ማድረግ፦ የአሜሪካ መንግሥት እንደ አፋብን/AFS ያሉ የተገንጣይ እና የሀገር አፍራሽ ሚና የሚጫወቱ የውጭ ኃይሎች መጠቀሚያዎች ፈፅሞ የአማራን ሕዝብ የማይወክሉ በመሆናቸው ከወዲሁ ውድቅ እንዲደረጉና ምንም ዓይነት ህጋዊ ተቀባይነት እንደሌላቸው ማሳወቅ።
• የህዝቡን ተቃውሞ ማወቅ፦ ይህ ስብስብ በአማራ ሕዝብ ዘንድ በይፋ መወገዙን ማወቅ፤ በተለይም አሁን በጎጃም እየተቀጣጠለ በመጣው ሰልፍ ላይ የፅምዶ ኃይሎች ተወግዘዋል፤ የነ ዘመነ ካሴ፣ የነ ደብረጽዮን ገብረሚካኤል እና ኩምሳ ድሪባ (ጃል ማሮ) ፎቶዎች ላይ በትልቁ የ ‘X’ ምልክት በማድረግ ህዝቡ ቁጣውን አሳይቷል። ይህም ስብስቡ የአማራን ሕዝብ የማይወክል መሆኑን ግልጽ ማሳያ በመሆኑ ዓለም አቀፉ ዲፕሎማሲያዊ ማህበረሰብ ይህንን ስብስብ ከአማራ ህዝብ ትግል ለይቶ እንዲመለከተው እንጠይቃለን።
• በመሬት ላይ ያሉ ነባራዊ ሁኔታዎችን ማከበር፦ በምስራቅ አፍሪካ የሚደረግ ማንኛውም የሰላም ጥረት የአማራን ህዝብ መስዋዕትነት ያከበረ፣ የአማራ ፋኖን ከፅምዶ ኃይሎች ለይቶ የሚያይ፣ የዘር ማጥፋት ወንጀል የፍትህ ጥያቄን ያከበረ እና በወልቃይት፣ ጠገዴ፣ ጠለምት፣ ሁመራ፣ ኮረም፣ አላማጣ፣ ዋጃ፣ መሆኒ እና ራያ ያሉትን ታሪካዊ ነባራዊ ሁኔታዎች ያገናዘበ መሆን አለበት።

ከክብሮት ጋር፣

ዶክተር ሶስና ታደሰ

ለአማራ ሕዝብ የሕልውና ትግል ተቆርቋሪ

— The Ethiopian Tribune —

AMHARA UNDER PRESSURE

The Amhara Crisis: Human Suffering, International Silence, and the Demand for Accountability

By Professor Girma Berhanu  ·  30 October 2026

Editor’s Foreword

In the week since the Holy Synod of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church confirmed that sixty of its faithful had been killed in the Merti and Shirka woredas of Arsi Zone — fourteen at Gora Silingo on 20 October, forty-six across Tereta, Chole and Birbo four days later — the dead have already begun to slip from the headlines into the statistics. That drift, from atrocity to footnote, is the subject of Professor Girma Berhanu’s latest contribution to these pages.

The Tribune has documented the killing of Orthodox Christians in East Arsi for some years. The scale is no longer seriously in dispute among those who keep count: the Ethiopian Human Rights Council’s 158th Special Report, published in August, recorded at least 432 civilians killed and more than 14,000 displaced across the zone since 2021/22. What remains in dispute is who is responsible, and who is listening. The Oromia regional government has blamed the Oromo Liberation Army and its allies; sources close to the rebel alliance point back at the regional authorities. Neither claim has yet been independently substantiated. Meanwhile, Wazema Radio and BBC Amharic have reported the detention of dozens of residents and mourners in the affected districts — people whose families say they came only to bury their dead.

Professor Girma does not pretend to settle the question of perpetrators. His argument is harder and, in our view, more durable: that the protection owed to a civilian cannot depend on whether the world finds that civilian’s suffering legible. He is careful — more careful than many who share his concern — to separate the moral claim from the empirical one. That Amhara and Orthodox civilians deserve protection and justice is not, for him, a hypothesis. That the international community has deliberately ignored them is, and he says plainly that it must be tested rather than assumed.

The second half of the essay turns to the older question beneath the new one: how a people came to be cast, in parts of Ethiopian political discourse and in some foreign writing, as collectively culpable for the country’s past. Drawing on Desalegn Birara and Adamu Walelign, and on European representations of Ethiopia on the eve of the Italian invasion, he argues that the demonisation of the Amhara should be examined as a historical and political process rather than inherited as fact — while conceding, as honest historians must, that the making of the Ethiopian state involved coercion as well as cooperation.

Readers will disagree with parts of this essay. Some will find it too restrained; others will contest its reading of history. We publish it because its central demand — that every victim be recognised, every credible allegation investigated, and every perpetrator held to account, whatever the ethnicity, faith or political convenience involved — is one this publication has made before, and will go on making.

— The Editor

Synopsis

Introduction and Summary

The crisis confronting the Amhara population in Ethiopia constitutes far more than an armed conflict. It is a profound humanitarian and human rights crisis marked by civilian insecurity, forced displacement, targeted violence, and the erosion of fundamental rights. Peace is meaningless when people cannot live without fear, send their children to school, access healthcare, obtain food, or sustain their livelihoods. The central concern of this article is whether the Ethiopian state and the international community are fulfilling their fundamental obligations to protect civilians, uphold equal citizenship, and ensure accountability, irrespective of ethnic identity or political affiliation.

Particular attention is given to reports of deadly attacks against Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Christians, many of whom are reportedly of Amhara identity, in Arsi Zone, Oromia. According to a statement attributed to the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church’s Holy Synod, 60 people were killed between 20 and 25 October 2026, 20 homes were destroyed, and more than 20 people sustained serious injuries. These allegations demand urgent, independent, and impartial investigation. The protection of civilians, the provision of humanitarian assistance, and the prosecution of those responsible must not be subordinated to political calculations or ethnic considerations.

Developments reported as this article was being finalised raise further serious concerns. According to eyewitness accounts and local residents, more than 50 people—including doctors and other healthcare professionals who reportedly treated victims of the attacks—were allegedly arrested by Oromia security forces. Those reportedly detained also include relatives of victims and individuals who attended funeral ceremonies or helped bury the dead. These arrests would raise grave questions about the treatment of medical personnel, bereaved families, and community members providing essential humanitarian assistance. Detaining individuals for treating the wounded, mourning the dead, or assisting with burials would represent a deeply troubling violation of fundamental humanitarian and human rights principles.

The article also interrogates the apparent disparity between the suffering reported in Amhara and the degree of international media coverage, diplomatic engagement, and institutional attention it receives compared with other conflicts, including the war in Tigray. Drawing on the author’s advocacy and communications with diplomats, international organisations, and media representatives, it highlights the gap between expressions of concern and demonstrable action. This disparity raises legitimate questions about whose suffering becomes internationally visible, whose experiences remain marginalised, and whether human rights principles are applied consistently. The extent, causes, and consequences of any such disparity require systematic empirical investigation; nevertheless, the obligation to protect civilians cannot depend on the visibility of their suffering.

“The obligation to protect civilians cannot depend on the visibility of their suffering.”

A further dimension concerns the historical narratives and political representations through which the Amhara are understood. Drawing on writings by Desalegn Birara and Adamu Walelign, the article examines how broad ethnic generalisations and portrayals of the Amhara as a collectively culpable historical group may contribute to stereotyping, marginalisation, and the diminished recognition of contemporary suffering. Ethiopia’s resistance to European colonialism, particularly its victory at the Battle of Adwa in 1896, provides an important historical context, but it does not negate the complexity of Ethiopia’s internal history or the need to examine historical inequalities critically. Historical responsibility must be established through evidence and contextual analysis, not assigned collectively to an entire ethnic community. Neither historical grievances nor present political conflicts can justify discrimination, collective punishment, or the denial of equal rights.

The humanitarian consequences extend well beyond immediate violence. Displacement undermines educational continuity, healthcare access, food security, family stability, and the capacity of communities to recover. The resulting insecurity threatens not only individual lives but also the social foundations necessary for lasting peace. Addressing the crisis therefore requires more than statements of concern: it demands effective civilian protection, safe and sustained humanitarian access, support for displaced families, restoration of essential services, credible investigations into alleged abuses, and accountability consistent with international human rights standards.

Ultimately, this article argues that the Amhara crisis must be understood as a fundamental test of civilian protection, equal citizenship, human dignity, and the universality of human rights. The Ethiopian government bears responsibility for protecting people within its jurisdiction and investigating credible allegations of abuse. The international community, in turn, must respond impartially, scrutinise credible reports, support independent investigations, and resist the selective application of humanitarian concern. No community should be rendered invisible, denied protection, or deprived of justice because of its ethnic identity or perceived political significance. Sustainable peace in Ethiopia requires an unequivocal commitment to protecting every civilian, recognising every victim, investigating every credible allegation, and holding perpetrators accountable without discrimination.

Central Argument

The Amhara crisis is not merely a question of armed conflict; it is a test of whether equal citizenship and universal human rights have practical meaning in Ethiopia. When civilians face violence, displacement, deprivation, and potentially arbitrary detention, the response must be grounded in evidence, impartiality, and accountability—not ethnic prejudice, political expediency, or selective international attention. The protection of human life is not conditional on ethnicity, political affiliation, or international visibility. Without credible investigations, effective civilian protection, humanitarian assistance, and accountability for abuses, sustainable peace and democratic coexistence will remain unattainable.

“The protection of human life is not conditional on ethnicity, political affiliation, or international visibility.”

When Survival Becomes a Daily Struggle

Over the past eight years, since Abiy Ahmed came to power as Prime Minister of Ethiopia, the situation of the Amhara population has deteriorated dramatically. Persistent armed conflict, civilian insecurity, forced displacement, and humanitarian hardship have placed millions of people under immense pressure. Many Amharas fear that government policies and military operations threaten their collective security and survival. The central issue is not simply the continuation of armed conflict; it is the failure to guarantee civilians the fundamental rights to life, security, dignity, and justice. Targeted violence and deliberate persecution require independent investigation rather than dismissal, denial, or political silence. For ordinary people, peace is not an abstract political promise. It means being able to walk to the market without fear, send children to school, seek medical care, cultivate land, and return home safely. In Ethiopia’s Amhara region, prolonged conflict and insecurity have severely undermined these basic conditions of human existence. When people cannot carry out the ordinary activities necessary for survival, peace has ceased to be a meaningful reality in their lives. The crisis also extends beyond the Amhara region. Amhara communities living in Oromia, particularly in the Arsi Zone, have reportedly endured repeated killings and targeted attacks. The recurrence of such violence raises urgent questions about civilian protection, the prevention of ethnically targeted abuses, and the accountability of those responsible. Recent disturbing reports have attracted international attention, but episodic concern is insufficient in the face of persistent allegations of serious abuses.

The central argument is that the Amhara crisis must be understood not merely as a consequence of armed conflict, but as a profound crisis of civilian protection, equal citizenship, and accountability. No population should be left to endure recurring violence because of its ethnic identity, political marginalisation, or geographical location. The Ethiopian government has a fundamental responsibility to protect all civilians without discrimination, investigate credible allegations of abuses, and ensure that those responsible are held accountable. The international community, too, must move beyond expressions of concern towards sustained scrutiny, independent monitoring, humanitarian engagement, and support for credible investigations. Without these measures, calls for peace and national reconciliation risk becoming empty rhetoric, detached from the lived realities of those whose lives and dignity remain under threat.

The situation in Arsi Zone, Oromia region, points to a deeply concerning pattern of targeted violence against Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Christians, particularly those of Amhara identity. Reports suggest that victims are being targeted on the basis of both their ethnic identity and religious affiliation. Serious allegations have also been raised regarding the involvement of armed forces operating in the Oromia region and the government’s awareness of these attacks. These allegations warrant a thorough, independent, and impartial investigation.

According to an announcement by the Holy Synod of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church, 60 faithful were killed in a series of violent attacks between 20 and 25 October 2026, in the Merti and Shirka woredas of Arsi Zone. The Holy Synod reported that 14 people were killed in the Gora Silingo area of Merti Woreda on 20 October. A further 46 people were killed in attacks on 24 October in the Tiruta, Chole, and Birbo areas of Shirka Woreda. The reported violence also resulted in the complete destruction of 20 residential homes, while more than 20 people sustained severe injuries and remained hospitalised in critical condition, according to the Holy Synod. The Synod characterised these incidents as part of an escalating and sustained pattern of targeted violence, forced displacement, and property destruction affecting Orthodox Tewahedo Christians in Arsi Zone and other parts of Ethiopia. These reports raise urgent concerns about civilian protection, state responsibility, and the persistent failure to ensure the safety of vulnerable communities. Attacks targeting individuals because of their ethnicity or religious beliefs constitute a grave violation of fundamental rights and undermine the principles of equality, security, and peaceful coexistence. The Ethiopian government must fulfil its obligation to protect all civilians, regardless of ethnicity or religion. This requires immediate and effective measures to prevent further attacks, ensure the safety of affected communities, facilitate humanitarian assistance, and establish accountability through independent and impartial investigations. Those responsible must be held accountable in accordance with the law. Silence and impunity risk allowing this pattern of violence and displacement to continue. Protecting civilians and securing justice for victims must be an urgent national priority.

The Amhara Crisis and the Limits of International Attention

I have personally worked to raise public awareness of reported atrocities against the Amhara people in Ethiopia. In this capacity, I have communicated my concerns to numerous groups, diplomats, international organisations, current and former ambassadors, and major international media outlets. While some have expressed concern, I have seen limited evidence of sustained international engagement or media coverage commensurate with the seriousness of the allegations I have sought to bring to their attention. This experience has prompted me to examine a fundamental question: why has the suffering of the Amhara people received comparatively limited international attention, and what factors might explain the gap between reports of violence and the international response?

Reports of killings, forced displacement, destruction of property, and other forms of violence against Amhara civilians warrant systematic investigation and serious international scrutiny. Yet, based on my experience of advocacy and outreach, efforts to draw attention to these reports have often generated expressions of concern without the level of sustained public debate, diplomatic engagement, and institutional response that I had hoped to see. Although my experience cannot, by itself, establish the extent of international neglect, it raises important questions about how humanitarian crises are recognised, reported, and prioritised.

A comparison with international responses to the war in Tigray is relevant, provided that differences in the conflicts, their chronology, and the available evidence are taken into account. The war in Tigray attracted substantial international media coverage, diplomatic engagement, and public discussion. Why, then, have reports of violence affecting Amhara communities not consistently generated a comparable level of international attention? Addressing this question requires examining differences in media access, the availability and verification of information, diplomatic priorities, geopolitical interests, advocacy networks, and the capacity of affected communities to bring their experiences to international audiences.

Another important issue concerns the role of political narratives and public perceptions. How are the Amhara people represented in Ethiopian political discourse and international reporting? Do established narratives about Ethiopia’s history, ethnic relations, and political conflicts influence which victims receive recognition and which accounts are considered credible? To what extent, if any, do political alliances, competing interpretations of the conflict, or entrenched stereotypes contribute to the underrepresentation of Amhara suffering? These are questions for empirical investigation rather than conclusions that should be assumed in advance.

The consequences of delayed recognition can be profound. When allegations of serious human rights violations receive insufficient scrutiny, opportunities for prevention, independent investigation, humanitarian assistance, and accountability may be lost. The international community should therefore ensure that reports concerning the Amhara are assessed according to the same transparent evidentiary standards and human rights principles applied to other populations affected by conflict. This requires independent fact-finding, credible documentation, responsible journalism, and consistent diplomatic engagement.

The comparison with the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda raises a broader concern about the international community’s capacity to respond to warning signs before violence escalates further. The historical lesson is not that different conflicts should be treated as identical, but that the verification of credible warnings and timely preventive action are essential to protecting civilian populations.

Ultimately, the issue is one of consistency, accountability, and equal recognition of human suffering. The experiences of the Amhara people deserve rigorous documentation and serious international consideration, just as the experiences of other communities affected by violence do. The key question is whether international institutions, governments, and media organisations are applying consistent standards of attention and scrutiny to credible reports of atrocities, regardless of the identity of the victims or the political sensitivities involved.

Answering this question requires more than expressions of concern. It requires examining the available evidence, identifying gaps in reporting and response, and determining what practical measures can protect civilians and establish accountability. The objective should be neither to minimise the suffering of one community nor to diminish that of another, but to ensure that no population’s suffering is overlooked because it is politically inconvenient, insufficiently represented, or difficult to investigate.

The consequences extend beyond the immediate battlefield. Families have been uprooted, children’s education interrupted, healthcare services strained, and livelihoods destroyed. For displaced people, the danger of the conflict is often followed by a different struggle: finding shelter, securing food, accessing medical care, and protecting family members in unfamiliar surroundings. Understanding the Amhara crisis requires more than counting casualties or describing military confrontations. It requires examining how insecurity affects the fundamental rights of civilians, why displacement becomes prolonged, how accountability can be strengthened, and what measures are necessary to protect lives without deepening the suffering of the population.

The Amhara Crisis: International Silence, Historical Narratives, and the Politics of Recognition

strong>Why Has the World Forgotten the Amhara People Amid Massacres? The question is painful because it goes beyond the violence itself. It asks why civilian suffering can continue while international attention remains limited, why reports of serious abuses do not always translate into meaningful protection, and why some communities struggle to make their experiences heard. These questions are particularly urgent in light of the recent reports of violence in Arsi Zone, Oromia region.

It would be inaccurate to conclude that the world has entirely forgotten the Amhara people. Nevertheless, international media coverage, diplomatic pressure, and humanitarian responses have not always appeared commensurate with the gravity of the reported suffering. Understanding this gap requires examining media priorities, geopolitical interests, access to reliable information, the politics of international recognition, and the challenges of holding powerful actors accountable.

It is also important to distinguish between a moral imperative—that Amhara civilians deserve protection, recognition, and justice—and the more specific factual claim that the international community has deliberately ignored their plight. The latter requires evidence. The disparity between reported suffering and international attention, however, warrants serious scrutiny.

There have been some encouraging signs of international recognition. Last week, several members of the US Congress reportedly expressed concern about the latest attacks against Amhara civilians and Orthodox Christians. Congresswoman Nancy Mace, for example, condemned the reported massacres of Orthodox Christians in Arsi Zone and criticised what she characterised as inadequate Western media coverage and insufficient attention from human rights organisations.

In a statement posted on social media following the attacks, Mace expressed outrage at the reported killings and destruction of property, questioning what she described as international indifference. Her intervention is a welcome gesture of solidarity because it brings attention to suffering that many believe has received insufficient coverage. Yet an important question remains: how can expressions of concern be translated into meaningful action? Public statements matter, but their significance ultimately depends on whether they contribute to independent investigations, effective civilian protection, humanitarian assistance, sustained media scrutiny, and accountability for those responsible.

Many people have asked why the plight of the Amhara has received comparatively little international attention. Two scholarly contributions offer perspectives that may help illuminate this question: Desalegn Birara’s From Defeating Colonialism to Facing Genocide: Historical Precedents and Prospects of the Amhara Existential Struggle in Ethiopia and Professor Adamu Walelign’s Amhara Demonization: The Enduring Legacy of a Malevolent Narrative.

Although the two works differ in emphasis, both examine how historical interpretations and political narratives shape perceptions of the Amhara community. Their arguments challenge representations that portray the Amhara collectively as historical oppressors, suggesting that such generalisations can obscure the diversity of Amhara experiences and identities. They also explore how competing accounts of Ethiopian state formation, historical power, and ethnic relations have influenced contemporary political tensions. A central concern in these arguments is that when an entire ethnic community is held collectively responsible for historical injustices, its members may become vulnerable to stereotyping, exclusion, and discrimination. The authors’ perspectives suggest that prevailing political narratives deserve closer examination, particularly where they may influence how violence against Amhara civilians is interpreted, reported, or acknowledged internationally.

The broader historical debate is complex. The Amhara have played an important role in the formation and development of the Ethiopian state, while the country’s history also includes contested processes of political centralisation, regional domination, and resistance. Competing interpretations of this history have become deeply embedded in contemporary Ethiopian politics. The extent to which particular narratives contribute to present-day discrimination and violence must be examined through historical research, documented evidence, and careful analysis rather than assumed in advance. Nevertheless, these works raise an important question: can historical stereotypes and prevailing political narratives affect whose suffering is recognised, whose testimony is taken seriously, and which communities receive international solidarity? If so, understanding the Amhara crisis requires examining not only the violence itself but also the interpretive frameworks through which it is understood.

Ultimately, the issue is not whether the suffering of the Amhara should be prioritised over that of other Ethiopian communities. All civilians deserve equal protection, and serious violations of human rights warrant investigation regardless of the victims’ ethnic or religious identity. The challenge is to ensure that international responses are consistent, evidence-based, and guided by the same principles of human dignity and accountability.

“Civilian protection cannot be selective, justice cannot depend on ethnic identity, and humanitarian assistance cannot wait for political convenience.”

The reports emerging from Arsi Zone make this question particularly urgent. Expressions of solidarity are important, but they must be accompanied by credible documentation, independent investigation, and practical measures to protect civilians. The international community should not wait for further escalation before taking credible reports of violence seriously.

The essential question is therefore not simply why the Amhara crisis receives limited attention, but what can be done to ensure that credible reports of abuses are investigated, victims are protected, and accountability does not depend on the political visibility of the people affected.

I would like to offer my own perspective on this matter, particularly on the historical narratives that have shaped international perceptions of the Amhara people. In my view, these narratives cannot be fully understood without examining the intersection of European colonial interests, Ethiopia’s resistance to foreign domination, and the political struggles over the country’s history and identity.

Western representations of Ethiopia and the Amhara, dating back several centuries, deserve closer historical scrutiny. Religious commitment, military traditions, patriotism, and a strong attachment to national independence have been important elements of Ethiopian history. Ethiopia’s resistance to European colonial expansion, particularly its victory over Italy at the Battle of Adwa in 1896, challenged prevailing assumptions about European superiority and became a powerful symbol of African resistance to colonialism. The prominent historical role of Amhara political and military elites in this struggle is relevant to understanding the subsequent contestation of Ethiopian history and identity.

Rudolf Rocházka’s Abyssinia: The Powder Barrel (1934) provides a useful source for examining European representations of Ethiopia during the period preceding Italy’s invasion in 1935. The book should be read critically and situated within the political climate of European imperial expansion. Its portrayal of Ethiopia’s political and social conditions raises questions about how descriptions of internal divisions and alleged oppression could be used to undermine the legitimacy of an independent African state. I believe that the international image of the Amhara has also been shaped by political struggles within Ethiopia. Some ethno-nationalist movements, including separatist currents among Tigrayan and Oromo political actors, have advanced interpretations of Ethiopian history that portray the Amhara collectively as colonisers or oppressors. Such representations are contested and should be assessed against historical evidence. My concern is that collective accusations against an entire ethnic community can obscure historical complexity, reinforce ethnic stereotypes, and contribute to the marginalisation of ordinary people who cannot reasonably be held responsible for every action of past governments or political elites.

Ethiopia’s contribution to African independence and its resistance to European colonialism are important dimensions of this debate. However, it is necessary to distinguish Ethiopia’s historical role as an independent state from the complex internal relations of power, which included both cooperation and coercion among different communities. Recognising these complexities does not justify portraying the Amhara as collectively guilty of historical injustices, just as acknowledging the suffering of other Ethiopian communities does not diminish the historical significance of Ethiopia’s resistance to colonial domination.

My central argument is that the demonisation of the Amhara should be examined as a historical and political process, not accepted as an objective description of an entire people. This requires critically investigating colonial-era representations, contemporary political propaganda, and competing nationalist accounts of Ethiopian history. It also requires distinguishing documented historical events from generalisations, allegations, and politically motivated interpretations.

“The demonisation of the Amhara should be examined as a historical and political process, not accepted as an objective description of an entire people.”

Ultimately, a more balanced understanding of Ethiopia’s past must recognise the Amhara’s historical contributions without idealising their political elites, while acknowledging the experiences of other Ethiopian communities without assigning collective blame. Such an approach is essential not only for historical accuracy but also for understanding contemporary ethnic tensions, challenging discriminatory narratives, and advancing a more inclusive vision of Ethiopia’s future.

The Humanitarian Crisis: Food, Healthcare, and Education

The right to live in safety is the foundation of all other human rights. When civilians cannot secure food, access healthcare, educate their children, or live without fear of violence and displacement, their most fundamental rights are being denied. The humanitarian crisis affecting Amhara is therefore not simply a consequence of territorial disputes, military operations, or political competition. It is a crisis of civilian protection, human dignity, and accountability. Insecurity and displacement threaten not only lives and livelihoods but also the social institutions on which communities depend for survival and recovery. Access to food, healthcare, education, and safe shelter must be understood as essential conditions for human security, not as secondary concerns to be addressed after political or military objectives have been pursued.

Reports from human rights organisations, displacement-monitoring agencies, and humanitarian bodies have documented serious protection concerns in Ethiopia. Continued armed conflict and insecurity, alongside reports of violence and displacement, underline the need for sustained civilian protection and the restoration of essential services. These conditions demand more than expressions of concern: they require effective prevention, independent investigation, humanitarian assistance, and accountability.

The central issue is whether the protection of civilians is being treated as an unconditional obligation or as a matter dependent on political interests and the identity of those affected. Amhara civilians must be able to live without fear of killings, forced displacement, or collective punishment. Orthodox Christians and other civilians in Arsi Zone deserve the same protection, regardless of their ethnicity or religious affiliation. The suffering of one community must never be used to diminish, relativise, or obscure the suffering of another.

The response must therefore be grounded in consistent principles: protect civilians, investigate credible allegations of abuse independently, hold those responsible accountable, support survivors and displaced families, and restore access to food, healthcare, and education. Equally important is addressing the political and institutional conditions that permit violence to recur.

Ultimately, the measure of a society’s commitment to human rights is not the language it uses to defend human dignity, but whether it protects people whose lives and rights are threatened—even when doing so is politically difficult. The international community and Ethiopian authorities must apply this principle consistently. Civilian protection cannot be selective, justice cannot depend on ethnic identity, and humanitarian assistance cannot wait for political convenience. Without these commitments, sustainable peace and recovery will remain out of reach.

References

Wondie, D. B. (2025). From defeating colonialism to facing genocide: Historical precedents and prospects of the Amhara existential struggle in Ethiopia. Journal of Amhara Studies, 1(1), 1–28. https://journalofamharastudies.org/index.php/jas/article/view/2

Walelign, A. (2021, 9 August). Amhara demonization: The enduring legacy of a malevolent narrative. Ethiopia Nege.

Editor’s Note

Casualty figures are as stated by the Holy Synod on 26 October 2026 and reported by the Associated Press, Al Jazeera and Addis Standard; the attacks took place on 20 and 24 October. Reported numbers of those detained since vary between outlets (Wazema Radio: 43; BBC Amharic: more than 20); the author’s figure of more than 50, and the inclusion of healthcare workers among them, rest on eyewitness accounts the Tribune has not independently confirmed. Responsibility for the attacks remains contested. A version of this essay was also published by Eurasia Review on 29 October 2026.

Girma Berhanu is Professor in the Department of Education and Special Education at the University of Gothenburg, Sweden, and a regular contributor to The Ethiopian Tribune.

THE ETHIOPIAN TRIBUNE

Exposing the Systemic Crisis of the Abiy Ahmed Regime

The Arsi Massacres and the Anatomy of Aggression

By Mareshet Yimer Meshesha  |  29 October 2026

The ongoing multidimensional crisis in Ethiopia has breached its final humanitarian boundaries. Recent and harrowing dispatches from the Arsi zone detail a systematic campaign of targeted violence, slaughter, and displacement executed against Orthodox Twahedo Christian believers. Innocent citizens, defenseless elders, and infants have paid the ultimate price.

This appeal begins with an expression of the highest gratitude and solidarity toward those brave civic voices, regional reporters, and community advocates who have broken their silence to amplify the cries of the victims. Conversely, it stands as a severe denunciation of those institutional actors and political elites who, under the banner of hollow peace agreements and stage-managed political transitions, have chosen like the proverbial ostrich to bury their heads in the sand. To look away from the flowing blood of innocents is to be complicit in its shedding.

“To look away from the flowing blood of innocents is to be complicit in its shedding.”

The Geopolitical Matrix: Internal Proxies and External Exploitation

The horrors unfolding in Arsi are not isolated incidents of localized communal friction. They are the visible symptoms of a coordinated, structurally backed campaign engineered by a network of internal proxies and fueled by external geopolitical interests intent on tearing the social fabric of Ethiopia apart. This calculated instability is directly tied to three distinct regional and international pressures:

The Weaponization of Water Politics: Following the successful operational milestones of the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD), external adversaries—chiefly Egypt—have actively shifted their strategy toward asymmetric domestic destabilization. Unable to stop the dam through conventional diplomacy, external actors are funneling financial and propaganda resources into internal ethnic and religious fault lines to keep Ethiopia structurally weak and permanently divided.

Wahabist Extremism and the Mirage of the East African Caliphate: The historically peaceful, tolerant, and collaborative fabric of traditional Ethiopian Islam is being deliberately undermined by radical Wahabi networks. These extremist ideologues distort faith into a tool for geopolitical mobilization, using targeted massacres against Christian minorities as a temporary stepping stone toward establishing an extremist Islamic Caliphate across East Africa.

Regional Envy and the Institutional Scramble: Ethiopia’s persistent internal instability has become an open target for regional neighbors. Driven by a desire to see the historic anchor of the Horn of Africa permanently diminished, competing states are quietly capitalizing on the domestic chaos, lobbying international organizations to relocate their regional and continental headquarters—including the African Union (AU)—away from Addis Ababa.

The Default of Government Accountability: A Final Notice

The legal, constitutional, and moral obligation to protect the lives and religious freedoms of citizens rests entirely on the shoulders of the state apparatus. Yet, the responses from the federal government and regional Kilil administrations have consistently degenerated into bureaucratic theater, unverified public relations dismissals, and deliberate inaction.

Let this be clear. The ruling Prosperity Party and its security organs have been repeatedly warned.

The time for pleading for protection from an administration that has presided over this systemic collapse is long past. The federal and regional authorities must understand that they are being watched by the nation and the international community. Every state official, security commander, and local cadre who chooses to look away, minimize casualty figures, or provide ideological shelter to extremist networks will be held directly, legally, and historically accountable for these crimes against humanity before future independent tribunals.

Direct Directives for Institutional Mobilization

To bypass the state’s paralysis and build an authentic shield around endangered communities, the following independent actions must be executed immediately:

To the Ethiopian Orthodox Twahedo Church and Co-Religious Institutions: The mother church must remain the unyielding voice of the displaced and the slaughtered. We call upon the Holy Synod and spiritual leaders to coordinate direct, independent humanitarian and spiritual lifelines to the survivors in Arsi. Crucially, the peaceful leaders of the Muslim community must step forward to publicly denounce the Wahabi extremists who hijack their faith, drawing a clear line between traditional Ethiopian Islamic values and external political extremism.

To Human Rights Organizations and Independent Investigators: International watchdogs and independent civic monitoring groups must deploy direct, uninhibited investigative assets to Arsi. Eyewitness testimonies must be secured immediately, and forensic evidence must be preserved before state actors alter the data or issue managed cover-up reports.

To the Judiciary and Independent Legal Practitioners: Perpetrators, financiers, and the administrative enablers of these massacres must be systematically identified. If the local courts remain compromised by political influence, case files must be prepared for future domestic tribunals and international accountability mechanisms. No political office or state immunity will shield abusers when the legal reckoning arrives.

The Economic Leverage: The Diaspora and Domestic Boycott Architecture

When a ruling elite turns a blind eye to the slaughter of its people while treating the country as a private commercial fiefdom and a tourist playground, the citizenry must strike back using the sharpest non-violent leverage available: Economic Strangulation.

The Diaspora Temporary Holiday Boycott: We issue an urgent call to the global Ethiopian diaspora to launch a total, temporary boycott on leisure travel and holidaying in Ethiopia. Until independent international investigators are granted unrestricted access to Arsi and verified security guarantees are established for all citizens, the diaspora must freeze all non-essential travel to the country, including cultural and holiday tours, and restrict financial remittances strictly to direct family survival aid. Traveling home for luxury, weddings, and entertainment while infants are butchered in Arsi is an insult to the memory of the victims and extends the political lifespan of a compromised regime.

The Domestic Business Boycott: Citizens on the ground must execute an absolute economic boycott against all commercial entities linked to the ruling elite. Refuse to patronize banks, luxury hotels, real estate developments, transport providers, and consumer brands owned or operated by Prosperity Party officials, their families, and their preferred business partners. Financially backing businesses tied to the ruling cadres means funding the very system that watches our communities burn.

The Sanctity of Life is Non-Negotiable

“The human soul is sacred. The right to worship without fear of execution is absolute.”

The human soul is sacred. The right to worship without fear of execution is absolute. The survival of Ethiopia cannot be achieved through political theater or the survival strategies of a failing palace elite. The dispatches from Arsi have revealed the depth of the state’s moral and structural collapse.

We call upon every Ethiopian—regardless of language, ethnicity, or region—to reject the manufactured hatreds driven by foreign cash and internal greed. Expose the networks of the Wahabi extremists, dismantle the influence of Egyptian water machinations, and refuse to fund the economic empires of the ruling elite. Break the silence, stand firm with the survivors of Arsi, and fight for a future rooted in absolute justice, unyielding truth, and equal protection under the law for every human being.

❖

Mareshet Yimer Meshesha is an independent civic analyst.