How regional war, electoral consolidation, diaspora uprising, and conflicting visions of national identity threaten to unravel the Horn of Africa’s oldest continuous state

By Sewasew Teklemariam Ethiopian Tribune columnist

The crisis engulfing Ethiopia in May 2026 cannot be understood as a collection of discrete problems requiring separate solutions. Rather, what is unfolding is a systemic collapse operating simultaneously across multiple registers:-military, political, ideological, and civilisational. These crises are not incidental to one another; they are structurally interconnected, each amplifying the others in ways that threaten to push Ethiopia past a point of reversibility.

At the military register, Sudan’s accusations regarding drone operations and training camps have created a situation in which border escalation has shifted from possibility to probability. Intelligence agencies across multiple countries now accept as baseline reality that Ethiopian territory is being used to facilitate military operations within Sudan, whether through formal government decision or through tolerated proxy activity. The physical evidence—satellite imagery of the Benishangul-Gumuz camp, recovered drone components, convoy tracking data remains technically ambiguous but strategically significant. Neither country has incentive to permit clarity to emerge. Sudan benefits from internationalism of the conflict. Ethiopia benefits from maintaining plausible deniability. This ambiguity, far from creating space for negotiation, instead creates space for escalation: both sides can claim vindication, both sides can justify further military preparations, and both sides can point to the other’s actions as justification for their own.

More fundamentally, the regional realignment orchestrated by Cairo has positioned Ethiopia at the intersection of pressure from three directions simultaneously. From the west, Sudan’s armed forces, supported by Egypt and Saudi Arabia, are consolidating control of the Blue Nile region and preparing for potential cross-border operations. From the north, Eritrea once an ally, now reimagined as an adversary has repositioned itself as a node in a regional coalition opposed to Ethiopian interests, supplied by Iran, financed by Saudi Arabia, and coordinated militarily with Cairo. From the east, Somalia increasingly falls under Egyptian influence, presenting a potential third pressure point. These are not coincidental alignments. They represent a deliberate strategic architecture constructed by Cairo and validated, through its silence or acquiescence, by Washington.

At the political register, the machinery of electoral authoritarianism operates with ruthless efficiency. Opposition leaders are imprisoned on dubious charges. Independent journalists are disappeared from streets and held incommunicado. Media outlets are raided. Civil society organisations face restrictions. All of this occurs whilst the government insists upon its commitment to democratic governance and invites international election observers to witness what is, in reality, a managed electoral process designed to produce predetermined outcomes. The elections scheduled for 1 June 2026 function not as a mechanism for determining government but as a mechanism for legitimising continued Prosperity Party monopoly on power. International observers, faced with a process that is technically procedurally correct but substantively constrained, will likely issue sufficiently ambiguous reports that will allow the government to claim vindication whilst allowing critics to point to the absence of genuine competition. The elections will thus serve simultaneously as a demonstration of commitment to democracy and as a mechanism for consolidating authoritarianism a feat that is possible precisely because electoral procedures and democratic governance have become decoupled from one another.

What makes the political crisis particularly acute is that it is occurring at precisely the moment when the government faces its greatest military vulnerability. The federal army is stretched across multiple insurgencies Oromia, Amhara, parts of Somali region and now potentially facing significant military pressure on the western border with Sudan. The government’s response to this vulnerability is not strategic reassessment but rather tightening of internal control: imprisoning opposition leaders who might challenge resource allocation decisions, silencing media who might scrutinise military spending or strategy, constraining civil society that might ask uncomfortable questions. This is a classic pattern of authoritarian response to weakness: when external pressures increase and internal capacity decreases, the instinct is to consolidate power rather than to build coalition or seek alternative approaches.

At the ideological register, competing visions of what Ethiopia is and what it should become have moved from background context to foreground crisis. The vision articulated by the Prosperity Party centres on technocratic modernisation, pan-Ethiopian identity (as opposed to ethnicity-based federalism), and the pursuit of development through infrastructure projects such as the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam. This vision has real appeal to significant portions of Ethiopia’s urban professional classes and to international investors and development institutions. But it has also generated profound alienation among other constituencies who view the Prosperity Party’s approach as a means of centralising Amhara-dominated control, marginalising regional interests, and undermining federalism as a mechanism for protecting minority and ethno-linguistic rights. The Tigray People’s Liberation Front, despite its defeat in the civil war, continues to command loyalty among portions of the Tigray population and operates as a pole of alternative political possibility. The Oromo Liberation Front, though excluded from electoral competition and designated a terrorist organisation, continues to attract support among segments of Oromia’s population. And now, emerging as a new force, are movements seeking to reconnect Ethiopia to visions of earlier historical configurations whether through Tigrayan intellectuals and activists articulating expanded conceptions of Tigrayan or “Geez” civilisational identity, or through Eritrean diaspora movements exploring the possibility of reunification under democratic rather than authoritarian auspices.

The Agaezi National Union Party’s perspective, articulated from within diaspora and intellectual circles, represents one such competing vision. The ANU’s analysis emphasises what it terms the “Geez Civilisation” and argues that the separation of Eritrea from Ethiopia constituted a catastrophic historical fragmentation engineered through foreign intervention and facilitated by TPLF-EPLF collaboration that should be characterised as treason against the greater Geez national project. From this perspective, the TPLF’s inclusion of Article 39 rights to self-determination and eventual secession in Ethiopia’s 1995 constitution represents a continuation of the fragmentary logic that enabled Eritrea’s separation. The ANU argues that restoring access to the Red Sea, preventing further territorial fragmentation, and rebuilding a unified Geez civilisation should be central to Ethiopia’s strategic vision. This analysis explicitly rejects what it characterises as “landlocked, periphery and minority secessionist” visions and calls for a “public national constitution (not party or government based memorandum)” that prioritises national unity and territorial integrity over ethno-linguistic federalism.

The significance of this perspective lies not in whether it commands majority support it does not but in the fact that it represents a genuine intellectual and political current within Ethiopian and diaspora circles that is gaining articulation and visibility at precisely the moment when competing visions of Ethiopian identity and statehood are being contested most sharply. That multiple, incompatible visions of what Ethiopia should be, how it should be governed, and what its territorial and civilisational boundaries should be, are all being advocated simultaneously, and that none of these visions appears capable of achieving hegemonic consensus, suggests that the political crisis extends beyond the question of whether the June 1 elections are free and fair to the more fundamental question of what constitutional and political framework Ethiopians themselves desire.

The Eritrean dimension of this crisis presents one of the most historically significant developments in the region in decades, yet it remains poorly understood by international observers and inadequately covered by international media. The realignment of Eritrea from Ethiopian ally to regional adversary has occurred gradually over the past three years, but it has accelerated dramatically in 2025 and 2026. The mechanism of this realignment is straightforward: Eritrea’s government, faced with the delegitimation that peace with Ethiopia produced the loss of the external enemy that had justified internal militarisation and authoritarianism has chosen to reposition itself as a regional player aligned with Egypt and opposed to Ethiopia. This choice has been validated through material incentives: Saudi Arabia has provided financial support, Iran has established supply line access through Eritrean territory, and the Trump administration’s decision to lift sanctions on Eritrea has signalled American acceptance of this alignment.

Yet simultaneously, and largely invisible to international analysis, the Eritrean diaspora representing approximately one-third of Eritrea’s entire population has mobilised around the Eritrean Blue Revolution, a pro-democracy movement that has begun to explore the possibility of reunification with Ethiopia under a federal democratic arrangement. The symbolism of the blue flag, representing the federation era of 1952 to 1961, is significant: it suggests that a democratic future might involve not continued independence but rather a reimagined federal relationship with Ethiopia, one that would operate under democratic governance rather than under Eritrean or Ethiopian authoritarianism. This possibility, were it to gain traction, would fundamentally alter the regional configuration that both Cairo and Asmara are currently constructing.

The convergence of Ethiopian pro-democracy movements and Eritrean pro-democracy movements in shared space particularly in Addis Ababa, where the January 2026 Eritrean Blue Revolution gathering occurred represents a potential axis of political transformation that both the Prosperity Party and the Eritrean regime have incentive to prevent. That imprisoned Ethiopian opposition leaders and disappeared Ethiopian journalists represent precisely the sort of political constraint that preempts such convergences is not coincidental. The government’s crackdown is not simply about winning the June 1 elections; it is about preventing the emergence of a political configuration that could threaten fundamental regime interests through the combination of internal democratic movements and diaspora mobilisation.

The Tigray situation presents perhaps the most acute existential threat to Ethiopian territorial integrity and government legitimacy. The region that was the epicentre of a civil war killing hundreds of thousands and displacing millions remains, eighteen months after the nominal cessation of hostilities, in a state of political limbo. The Tigray People’s Liberation Front, unable to obtain a party licence to participate in the June 1 elections, operates in a legal and political grey zone. The population remains largely displaced, unable to return to homes, unable to participate in normal economic activity, unable to engage with the political process. The interim administration that the federal government imposed remains administratively incompetent and politically alienating to large portions of the Tigray population. TPLF intelligence networks, dispersed and degraded but not eliminated, continue to operate. And reports suggest coordination between TPLF elements operating from Sudan and Eritrean military forces through the arrangement variously referred to as “Army 70” or the “Tsimdo arrangement.”

The ANU perspective on Tigray is particularly significant here. The ANU argues that Tigrayan identity should be understood as part of the greater Geez civilisation and that Tigrayan interests should be served through reconnection to a unified, unitary national state rather than through autonomy within a federated framework. From this perspective, the TPLF’s assertion of Tigrayan interests through federalism and ultimately through secession (which the ANU characterises as the logical endpoint of ethno-linguistic federalism) represents a betrayal of the greater Geez civilisational project. This analysis suggests that a reconstituted Ethiopia, rebuilt on the foundation of Geez civilisation and committed to territorial integration and Red Sea access, would better serve both Tigrayan and broader Ethiopian interests than would continued federalism or outright separation.

Whether this vision is appealing to the Tigray population itself remains an open question. What is clear is that the Tigray population is deeply alienated from the federal government, deeply traumatised by the civil war, and increasingly engaged with both internal Tigrayan political movements and external Eritrean political movements through kinship networks and historical connections. The possibility of Tigray mobilising around a pro-TPLF political programme, combined with Eritrean mobilisation around the Blue Revolution, combined with broader Ethiopian pro-democracy mobilisation, presents a scenario in which convergent political movements could simultaneously challenge Prosperity Party dominance and Eritrean regime consolidation. That this possibility seems to preoccupy government strategists is evident from the intensity of the crackdown on political opposition and independent media.

The international context that frames these domestic crises is one in which the United States appears to be accepting, or at least not actively resisting, Egypt’s strategy for regional hegemony. The Trump administration’s decision to lift sanctions on Eritrea, justified on Red Sea strategic grounds, implicitly endorses Eritrea’s alignment with Egypt and Sudan against Ethiopia. The absence of American pressure on Egypt to cease its regional encirclement strategy suggests American acquiescence. The failure of the United States to use its leverage with the Ethiopian government to insist upon minimum standards of democratic conduct freedom for opposition leaders, protection for journalists, genuine electoral competition suggests an American calculation that Ethiopia’s strategic position is sufficiently weak that the United States need not invest diplomatic capital in defending Ethiopian democratic governance. From a realpolitik perspective, this may be rational: if Ethiopia is going to be constrained by Egyptian regional hegemony in any case, why expend diplomatic capital fighting battles that cannot be won?

But this calculation appears to discount several possibilities that could alter regional dynamics significantly. The first is the possibility of successful convergence between Ethiopian and Eritrean pro-democracy movements, creating a unified force substantially more difficult for Egypt to manage than either separate movement would be. The second is the possibility that genuine democratic transformation in either Ethiopia or Eritrea could trigger cascading transformation in the other, creating a fundamentally altered regional configuration. The third is the possibility that the very intensity of external pressure on Ethiopia could trigger internal mobilisation in ways that the government cannot control. The fourth is the possibility that the June 1 elections, rather than producing the legitimation that the government seeks, instead produce a legitimacy crisis that international observers cannot finesse through ambiguous language.

The question of the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam sits beneath much of this regional tension, though it is rarely explicitly discussed in coverage of the immediate crises. The dam fundamentally alters water flows in the Nile system, reducing downstream availability for Egypt and Sudan. For Egypt particularly, the GERD represents an existential threat to national survival in ways that international law, diplomatic negotiation, and technical solutions have thus far failed to address. Egyptian strategic responses have thus necessarily taken the form of regional containment: preventing Ethiopia from emerging as sufficiently powerful to resist Egyptian pressure. Supporting Sudan’s armed forces, aligning with Eritrea, leveraging Somalia through military presence in AUSSOM, developing partnerships with Saudi Arabia to constrain Iranian influence in the region all of these strategic moves can be understood as components of a broader strategy to ensure that Ethiopia remains constrained and unable to fully exploit the advantages that the GERD provides.

It is from this perspective that the ANU’s emphasis on Red Sea access becomes strategically significant. If Ethiopia were to gain reliable access to Indian Ocean shipping through either Eritrean or Sudanese Red Sea ports, its economic and strategic position would be transformed. This is precisely what Cairo wishes to prevent. Egypt’s regional strategy is thus fundamentally about ensuring that Ethiopia remains landlocked, economically dependent, and politically constrained unable to pursue independent strategic interests, unable to fully exploit the GERD’s potential, unable to emerge as a regional power. The ANU’s vision of a reconstructed Ethiopia with access to the Red Sea through reunification with Eritrea, or through some other territorial reconfiguration, thus represents precisely the strategic nightmare that Egyptian planners most fear.

The convergence of these multiple crises military pressure from Sudan and Eritrea, political crisis manifested in electoral authoritarianism and opposition imprisonment, ideological contestation over what Ethiopia is and should be, the Tigray political limbo, the GERD strategic tension with Egypt, and now the emergence of diaspora movements that could potentially alter regional dynamics creates a situation of genuine systemic instability. None of these crises appears susceptible to solution through the mechanisms currently being pursued. Military preparations in Sudan and Eritrea will not produce Ethiopian capitulation; they will produce Ethiopian military mobilisation and further regional escalation. Electoral management and opposition imprisonment will not produce political legitimacy; they will produce legitimacy deficits and post-election contestation. Continued ambiguity regarding the training camps and drone operations will not produce de-escalation; it will produce further miscalculation as both sides act on differing interpretations of the evidence. The attempt to govern Tigray through interim administration without genuine political incorporation will not produce stability; it will produce continued alienation and continued risk of renewed conflict.

The question that now faces Ethiopia and the international community is whether the convergent nature of these crises will be recognised and addressed holistically or whether, through habit and institutional inertia, the international community will continue to treat them as separate problems a military conflict with Sudan, an electoral process in Ethiopia, a political situation in Tigray each requiring separate solutions and separate diplomatic tracks. If the latter approach continues, then the trajectory toward regional war becomes increasingly probable. If a more holistic approach were pursued one that recognised that military escalation in Sudan/Eritrea, political legitimacy deficits in Ethiopia, diaspora mobilisation for democratic transformation, and competing visions of Ethiopian identity are all components of a single systemic crisis then alternative pathways might become visible.

Such pathways might involve: genuine space for opposition political competition in advance of the June 1 elections; a serious negotiated settlement for Tigray that involves genuine political representation rather than interim administration; a diplomatic track focused on de-escalation in Sudan that does not require Ethiopian capitulation but does require acknowledgment of underlying security concerns; serious engagement with the Eritrean Blue Revolution and with Eritrean pro-democracy movements as legitimate actors in regional politics rather than as marginal movements to be suppressed; and a fundamental reconsideration of the GERD’s regional implications and the development of a framework that addresses Egyptian water security concerns without requiring Ethiopian subordination.

Whether such a holistic approach is possible remains deeply uncertain. The political actors involved—Prosperity Party leadership in Ethiopia, SAF leadership in Sudan, Eritrean regime leadership, Egyptian strategists all have incentive structures that favour continued escalation or continued management of current tensions rather than fundamental transformation. The international community, particularly the Trump administration, appears to have accepted, explicitly or implicitly, an outcome in which Egyptian regional hegemony is established and Ethiopian power is constrained. And the cascading nature of the crises means that each moment that passes without fundamental reorientation increases the probability that some triggering event a military escalation that spirals out of control, an electoral outcome that is contested violently, a Tigray political crisis that reignites will push the region past a point of reversibility.

What remains clear is that the June 1 elections cannot function as a resolution of Ethiopia’s political crisis. Whether they succeed in producing a compliant parliament that legitimises Prosperity Party rule, or whether they fail in this objective and instead produce contested results and post-electoral violence, the underlying problems will remain unaddressed. The military pressure from Sudan and Eritrea will not abate. The diaspora movements for democratic transformation will not disappear. The Tigray political limbo will not resolve itself. The competing visions of Ethiopian identity and national purpose will not achieve consensus. And the regional configuration orchestrated by Cairo, validated by Washington, and now being operationalised by Sudan and Eritrea will continue to constrain Ethiopian options and continue to amplify regional instability.

The tragedy of the moment is not that the outcome is predetermined but that the mechanisms for addressing the systemic nature of the crisis recognition of interconnection, willingness to pursue transformation rather than incremental management, openness to alternative regional configurations appear largely unavailable to the political actors most capable of producing them. Instead, what is likely is a continuation of tactical escalation and crisis management, with periodic moments of acute danger when miscalculation produces unintended military escalation, until some catastrophic event forces a fundamental recalibration of the entire regional system.

Whether that recalibration comes through democratic transformation, military defeat, or some other mechanism remains unknowable. What is knowable is that the current trajectory, if maintained, appears increasingly likely to produce outcomes substantially worse than the crises currently being managed.

About Post Author

Ethiopian Tribune editor

editor@ethiopiantribune.com

https://ethiopiantribune.com

Happy

0 0 %

Sad

0 0 %

Excited

0 0 %

Sleepy

0 0 %

Angry

0 0 %

Surprise

0 0 %

By Mefkereseb G. Hailu (PhD)

Editorial Foreword

It is with considerable gratitude that the Ethiopian Tribunepresents the final instalment of Dr Mefkereseb G. Hailu’s four-part analytical series on the Abraham Accords and their implications for Ethiopian sovereignty, geopolitical positioning, and national strategy. Over the past months, this series has established itself as the most rigorous and unflinching examination of the architecture reshaping the Gulf–Red Sea–Horn region combining legal-historical analysis, strategic assessment, and an uncompromising focus on the conditions required for Ethiopian agency.

This final instalment, “Assab, Sovereignty, and the Endgame,”moves beyond architecture into operational reality. It addresses what Parts 1–3 have prepared: the political, military, and diplomatic conditions under which Ethiopian sovereignty is recovered; the enduring legal foundations on which that recovery stands; the closing strategic window that demands urgent action; and the binary choice that now confronts the Ethiopian state and people.

What This Instalment Addresses

Internal Constraints and Public Accountability. Hailu opens with an ultimatum addressed directly to the Ethiopian people and the Ethiopian government emerging from the June 2026 election. Sovereignty is not produced as a by-product of external alignment; it is produced by populations that demand it and discipline themselves to defend it. The “monkey habit of ethnic entrepreneurship” the operational mechanism by which external opportunities are squandered through factional competition remains the binding constraint on Ethiopia’s four singular interests. The path forward runs through civic discipline, not elite pronouncement.

The Legal Foundation: Residual Rights and Continuous Chain. Part 4 reasserts the legal record established in Part 3 with load-bearing clarity: Italy never held absolute sovereignty; Resolution 390(V) explicitly preserved Ethiopian sea access irrespective of Eritrean political status; the OAU’s uti possidetis principle, applied to its founding moment with Eritrea as Ethiopian territory, locks Eritrea in as Ethiopian territory; the 1993 abandonment was performed ultra vires by an unmandated transitional government; and the Algiers Agreement, by addressing only the land boundary, preserves rather than extinguishes Ethiopian residual rights.

The Government Policy Track: Alignment and Divergence. Hailu conducts a rigorous reading of four substantial policy-track articles published in the Horn Review between November 2025 and April 2026 the most extensive Ethiopian articulation of maritime sovereignty since 1991. He identifies six critical strengths: maritime recovery is reframed as a state imperative; the legal record on Italy’s non-sovereignty is established with rigour; Resolution 390(V)’s protective function is correctly characterised; the 1962 incorporation is defended as restoration rather than annexation; the 1993 referendum is named for its constitutional illegitimacy; and the “depoliticisation” of landlockedness is correctly diagnosed. He simultaneously identifies four critical weaknesses: the AU’s complicity in 1993 goes unnamed; settlement options are hedged toward conciliation where assertion is required; Eritrean independence is accepted as settled while challenging only its conditions; and Saudi engagement reproduces a supplicatory frame. The interpretation is stark: if the government fails to extend the policy track beyond these stops-short, the inference becomes unavoidable that the government may not have been serious about recovering sovereign sea access in the first place.

The Mature Strategy: Political, Diplomatic, and Military Tracks. Hailu then presents the strategic synthesis required across three concurrent tracks. Politically: a civic mandate anchored across multiple regional constituencies and won on a programmatic platform that includes explicit positions on the four singular interests, giving the resulting government legitimacy to pursue sovereign sea access as a national project. 

Diplomatically: offence, not defence converting the Hexagon’s southern arc into a central strategic partnership; engaging bridge actors from positions of leverage rather than supplication; and confronting the AU and UN multilateral forums with the legal record of Italian-claim contingency, OAU complicity in 1993, and the ultra vires character of the TPLF-led abandonment. Militarily: credible deterrence and prepared option conventional capability, asymmetric capability, and doctrinal preparation sufficient to seize and hold the Doumeira–Beilul corridor through the “attack, hold, and negotiate” formula.

The Convergence Point: 2027–28. The military strategist’s calendar (the closing window) and the politician’s calendar (the construction curve of civic compact, macroeconomic depth, and global-capital integration) converge at 2027–28. At that point, if political, diplomatic, and military preparation is sustained, Asmara faces a choice between negotiated settlement that preserves Eritrean political existence on terms that include Ethiopian sovereign access, or confrontation that the strategist has prepared to win. This is the moment of maximum Ethiopian leverage.

Eritrea’s Path: Coexistence or Parasitism. Hailu addresses the Eritrean question with historical honesty and strategic clarity. Both populations were brutalised; the 1993 separation was not popular consent but rebel-group imposition; Eritrea’s current garrison-state offers its own population no future. The post-operation settlement envisaged preserves Eritrean separate political existence while establishing economic relationship with Ethiopia that addresses Eritrea’s developmental crisis. The objective is sovereign Ethiopian access to the sea alongside sovereign Eritrean access both nations benefiting from the recovery of a coastline that was never legitimately surrendered.

The Binary Choice. The instalment concludes with the operative ultimatum: if the conditions are met civic mandate, sustained diplomatic offence, military preparation, macroeconomic stabilisation, and leverage-based engagement with regional partners then sovereignty is recovered and the four singular interests become attainable. If any condition is abandoned, the geopolitical architecture amplifies the internal fractures; GERD becomes a factional prize; the coastline remains permanently lost; and Ethiopia’s demographic trajectory produces fragmented territory governed by competing oligarchies that external patrons exploit. The choice is binary and operational: bananas for the few and dismemberment for the many, or sovereignty for the nation and prosperity for the generations that follow.

The Election Analysis Ahead

Dr. Hailu has indicated his intention to return with a companion article examining the June 2026 election as the constitutional moment at which the political track is operationalised. That analysis examining the election’s conduct, possible outcomes, the programmatic test for every candidate, and the meaning of a Pan-Ethiopian mandate promises to be as rigorous and uncompromising as the series that precedes it. The Tribune looks forward to bringing that perspective to its readers with the same analytical independence and strategic clarity that has defined this four-part examination.

This series stands as the most comprehensive independent analysis of Ethiopian sovereignty, Horn of Africa geopolitics, and the Abraham Accords architecture available to English-language readers. It is offered to the Ethiopian public and to scholars of the region as a contribution to the urgent and necessary conversation about what sovereignty means, what conditions make it attainable, and what price is paid when it is abandoned for the comfort of dependency.

—The Editors —

Read the Full Article

Part 4/4: Assab, Sovereignty, and the Endgame

Available as PDF via the link below

About Post Author

Ethiopian Tribune editor

editor@ethiopiantribune.com

https://ethiopiantribune.com

Happy

0 0 %

Sad

0 0 %

Excited

0 0 %

Sleepy

0 0 %

Angry

0 0 %

Surprise

0 0 %

EDITOR’S FORWARD: PART 3 — ETHIOPIA’S INTERNAL CONSTRAINT

The third instalment of Mefkereseb G. Hailu’s analysis arrives at the moment when Ethiopia’s strategic arithmetic becomes most urgent and most brutal. Parts 1 and 2 traced the architecture that has created, paradoxically, the most favourable external environment Ethiopia has faced in its modern history—the convergence of Israeli technology, Emirati capital, American security infrastructure, and demographic weight at a single strategic node. Yet that architecture, Hailu argues, can only be converted to national gain by a state capable of negotiating as a unit. A fractured Ethiopia finds in that same architecture the most efficient mechanism for dismemberment that the country has yet faced.

This instalment turns inward, but not to domestic policy abstracted from strategy. It does the opposite: it demonstrates that the internal and external are inseparable. The ethnic federalism that converts diversity into zero-sum bargaining, the personalist governance that substitutes leadership for institutions, the patronage networks that convert national assets into factional prizes, these are not merely unjust. They are the fracture lines through which external competitors penetrate Ethiopian strategic space. Every day that ethnic entrepreneurs mobilise constituencies against one another, they are simultaneously constructing the entry points for Cairo’s encirclement, for proxy cultivation, for the dismemberment that begins not with invasion but with the subtle repositioning of factional clients.

The author’s central concept the “monkey habit of ethnic entrepreneurship” will strike some as provocative. It should. It is meant to. The term names a specific political economic phenomenon with identifiable actors, predictable behaviours, and measurable costs. It is not a metaphor for poor manners but an operational mechanism: the conversion of identity into a tradable asset, the manufacture of grievance, the cultivation of victimhood narratives that locate every problem outside the constituency and every solution within the entrepreneur’s gift. The author demonstrates that ethnic entrepreneurs from rival groups are functionally allies, dependent on each other for the perpetuation of the inter-group mistrust from which they profit. They constitute a guild.

The analysis extends to the June 2026 election as a constitutional moment. This is not an endorsement of any candidate or party, nor is it naïve about the constraints under which the vote will be held. It is instead a recognition that elections offer something that no other mechanism currently available to Ethiopians provides: a moment in which voters can articulate, through their choices, whether the next political phase will be organised around programmes or around identities. The choice is not between Abiy Ahmed and an imagined optimum but between coalitions whose composition and mandate will determine whether the policies pursued afterward can be Pan-Ethiopian or will revert to ethnic-bargained variants of the same failed dispensation.

The article grapples unflinchingly with the Red Sea sovereignty question tracing the legal chain from Wuchale through Resolution 390(V), documenting the AU’s foundational hypocrisy, exposing the constitutional irregularity of the 1993 Eritrean referendum and the 2000 Algiers Agreement. It does so not as an exercise in historical recrimination but as the foundation for a strategic argument: that the window for recovering sovereign maritime access remains open while Egypt’s encirclement is still consolidating, and that the geopolitical moment that makes such recovery conceivable will not remain open indefinitely. The analysis of “attack, hold, and negotiate” as a strategic option is presented with equal weight to the political preconditions that make such an option survivable. The reconciliation lies in timing: the strategist’s calendar (dictated by deteriorating military balance) and the politician’s calendar (dictated by civic consolidation requirements) converge around 2027–28.

Yet the core argument remains domestic. A country whose internal politics is organised on ethnic lines cannot conduct a war of recovery that requires the cohesion of all major constituencies. Tigrayans will not fight for an Oromo-coded leadership’s coastline; Amhara will not accept casualties for a state perceived as having abandoned them; Oromo will not mobilise enthusiastically for an objective they perceive as Pan-Ethiopian but excluding their concerns. The military operation might succeed at the front; it would lose at home. This is why internal unity is not sentimental aspiration but the binding constraint on every external objective.

The article’s treatment of Abiy Ahmed as a political actor neither saint nor villain but a figure whose trajectory reveals the operational mechanics of the monkey habit will be controversial. The argument is narrower and more strategic than either supporters or critics commonly advance: in a country whose institutional infrastructure remains weak, whose opposition parties remain organisationally thin, whose civic ecosystem is still recovering from constraint and war, the choice presented to Ethiopians is not between Abiy and a robust civic alternative. It is between Abiy and what would actually emerge if he were defeated which, on present evidence, is not a Pan-Ethiopian civic coalition but a fragmentation contest among ethnic-entrepreneur factions whose combined effect would be to deliver to the balancing coalition (Egypt, Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Eritrea, Somalia) precisely the porosity it is working to engineer. The argument for engaging Abiy strategically rests on the absence of a credible alternative; the argument against permitting any leader unconditional power rests on the institutional discipline that civic citizenship requires.

The economic dimensions Birr depreciation, foreign-exchange scarcity, inflation, the compression of household real incomes receive analysis not as technical problems to be solved by experts but as the medium through which political outcomes are produced. Economic discontent is being channelled through ethnic categories. A young Amhara man unable to find work interprets his predicament as Oromo capture of the federal economy. A young Oromo man unable to find work interprets the same condition as elite betrayal of his constituency. A Tigrayan trader unable to access foreign exchange interprets the situation as deliberate federal punishment. These interpretations are not wholly fabricated; each contains elements of truth. But all of them mistake structural macroeconomic conditions for ethnic conspiracy, and ethnic entrepreneurs profit from the conversion.

The author’s fear, articulated in his transmission note, deserves reflection. He fears that the nation is not prepared to stave off the storms hurling upon it. That fear is justified. The encirclement is not theoretical 15,000 Egyptian troops in Somalia, military access at Assab and Doraleh, the Sunni leadership contest pressing Ethiopia’s Muslim communities as one more potential fracture line, Eritrea’s emergence from isolation. The window is closing. Whether Ethiopians recognise it and act on it is the question on which everything turns.

This instalment represents the most rigorous analysis of Ethiopia’s internal constraint yet to appear in these pages. It will anger some. It will clarify for others. It will provide to those Ethiopians still persuaded that their country’s future is worth fighting for the intellectual foundation on which that fight must rest: that a unified Ethiopia pursuing civic citizenship is not a luxury reform to be deferred until conditions are easier, but the most urgent strategic action available to Ethiopians today. The window for civic consolidation is open now because the external environment is favourable. It will close when one or more external actors decides that a fragmented Ethiopia serves its interests better than a unified one.

Part 4 will address the decisive question: Assab, the sovereign coastline, and the endgame examined as a sovereignty-and-deterrence problem that demands both international mediation and domestic civic consolidation.

Readers are encouraged to access and study the full PDF of the article at the following link.

Part 3 examines the internal dynamics that make institutional coherence possible or impossible.

Author: Mefkereseb G. Hailu (PhD)
Date: 26 April 2026
Series: The Abraham Accords — Part 3 of 4
Topic: Competition and Permissive Disorder in the Gulf–Red Sea–Horn

The Editor
Ethiopian Tribune
April 26, 2026

About Post Author

Ethiopian Tribune editor

editor@ethiopiantribune.com

https://ethiopiantribune.com

Happy

1

100 %

Sad

0
0 %

Excited

0
0 %

Sleepy

0

0 %

Angry

0
0 %

Surprise

0
0 %

ትንታኔ፦ የኢትዮጵያ ትሪቢዩን የፖለቲካ እና የኢኮኖሚ ጉዳዮች ክፍል

መጋቢት 16 ቀን 2018 ዓ.ም (ማርች 25፣ 2026)

በዓለም አቀፍ የቴክኖሎጂ ዘርፍ ከፍተኛ ድንጋጤን በፈጠረ ውሳኔ፣ በሎስ አንጀለስ የሚገኝ የዳኞች ቡድን በቴክኖሎጂ ግዙፎቹ ሜታ (Meta) እና ጎግል (Google) ላይ ከዚህ ቀደም ታይቶ የማይታወቅ የሽንፈት ውሳኔ አስተላልፏል። ይህ ብይን የማህበራዊ ሚዲያ ኩባንያዎች “ሆን ተብሎ ለተቀነባበረ የዲጂታል ሱሰኝነት” በሕግ ተጠያቂ የተደረጉበት የመጀመሪያው አጋጣሚ ነው። የሕግ ባለሙያዎች እንደሚሉት ከሆነ፣ ይህ ውሳኔ እንደ ኢትዮጵያ ባሉ በማደግ ላይ ባሉ አገራት የሚገኙ በሚሊዮን የሚቆጠሩ ወጣት ተጠቃሚዎችን ጨምሮ፣ መላውን የዲጂታል ዓለም ገጽታ መሠረታዊ በሆነ መልኩ ሊቀይረው ይችላል።

የፍርዱ ይዘት

ሳምንታት ለፈጀው ከፍተኛ የምስክርነት ቃል መስማት ሂደት በኋላ፣ የዳኞች ቡድኑ ሜታ (የኢንስታግራም፣ ፌስቡክ እና ዋትስአፕ እናት ኩባንያ) እና ጎግል (የዩቲዩብ ባለቤት) ሆን ብለው ተጠቃሚን ሱሰኛ የሚያደርጉ የመገናኛ መድረኮችን ቀርፀዋል የሚል መደምደሚያ ላይ ደርሷል። ዳኞቹ እነዚህ የዲጂታል መድረኮች አወቃቀር በሕግ ሰነዶች ላይ ‘ኬሊ’ ተብላ በተጠቀሰችው የ20 ዓመት ወጣት የአእምሮ ጤና ላይ ቀጥተኛ ጉዳት ማድረሳቸውን አረጋግጠዋል።

የከሳሿ የሕግ ባለሙያዎች እንደ “infinite scrolling” (ገደብ የለሽ የመረጃ ፍሰት) እና የፍላጎት ስልተ-ቀመሮች (algorithms) በአጋጣሚ የተፈጠሩ ሳይሆኑ፣ የሕፃናትን ደህንነት መሥዋዕት በማድረግ ተጠቃሚዎችን ለረጅም ሰዓት ለማቆየት ታስበው የተሰሩ መሆናቸውን በማስረጃ አቅርበው ተከራክረዋል።

የኩባንያዎቹ መከላከያ ውድቅ መደረግ

የሜታ ጠበቆች ጉዳዩን እንደ ግል ችግር በመፈረጅ ኩባንያውን ከተጠያቂነት ለማዳን ጥረት አድርገው ነበር። ኬሊ በግል ሕይወቷ መከራ ቢደርስባትም፣ ኢንስታግራምን መጠቀምዋ ለሥነ-ልቦና ቀውሷ መንስኤ እንዳልሆነ ወይም “ጉልህ አስተዋጽኦ” እንዳልነበረው ተከራክረዋል።

ሆኖም ዳኞቹ በዚህ መከላከያ አልተረቱም። ይልቁንም ኩባንያዎቹ ራሳቸው ያደረጓቸውን የውስጥ ጥናቶች ጨምሮ፣ እነዚህ መድረኮች ልክ እንደ ቁማር የአንጎልን የደስታ ስሜት (dopamine) ቀስቃሽ በሆነ መልኩ መገንባታቸውን የሚያሳዩ ማስረጃዎችን በመጥቀስ ውሳኔያቸውን አጽንተዋል።

በዛሬው ዕለት በዓለም አቀፍ የቴክኖሎጂ ኢንደስትሪ ላይ እንደ መብረቅ የተሰማው የሎስ አንጀለስ ፍርድ ቤት ውሳኔ፣ ሜታ እና ጎግልን ብቻ ሳይሆን እንደ ቲክቶክ (TikTok) ያሉ ሌሎች ግዙፍ መድረኮችንም ስጋት ላይ ጥሏል። የ20 ዓመቷን ኬሊን የካሳ ጥያቄ መሠረት በማድረግ የተሰጠው ይህ “ታሪካዊ” ብይን፣ የቴክኖሎጂ ኩባንያዎች ለተጠቃሚዎቻቸው የአእምሮ ጤና ያላቸውን የሕግ ተጠያቂነት አዲስ ምዕራፍ ከፍቷል።

የብይኑ መሠረት እና የቲክቶክ ስጋት
ምንም እንኳን የዚህኛው ክስ ትኩረት በሜታ (ኢንስታግራም) እና ጎግል (ዩቲዩብ) ላይ ቢሆንም፣ የፍርዱ መሠረታዊ ምክንያት ግን እንደ ቲክቶክ ያሉ መድረኮችን በቀጥታ የሚነካ ነው። ዳኞቹ ኩባንያዎቹን ጥፋተኛ ያደረጓቸው በሚከተሉት ነጥቦች ነው፦

የአልጎሪዝም አወቃቀር፦ ተጠቃሚው ሳያስበው ለሰዓታት እንዲቆይ የሚያደርጉ “ሱስ አስያዥ” ስልተ-ቀመሮች።ሆን ተብሎ የተሰሩ ዲዛይኖች፦ ልክ እንደ ቲክቶክ “For You Page” ሁሉ፣ ወጣቶችን ከእውነታው ዓለም የሚነጥሉ ማራኪ ግን ጎጂ ይዘቶችን የሚያስቀድሙ አሰራሮች።
የሕግ ባለሙያዎች እንደሚሉት፣ ቲክቶክ በአሁኑ ወቅት በአሜሪካ እና በአውሮፓ መሰል ክሶች እየቀረቡበት በመሆኑ፣ ይህ የሜታ እና ጎግል መሸነፍ ለቲክቶክም “የመጨረሻው ማስጠንቀቂያ” ተደርጎ ተወስዷል።

“የዲጂታል መድኃኒት” ተጠያቂነት

“ይህ ውሳኔ በኢትዮጵያ ያሉ ወላጆች እና ተቆጣጣሪ አካላት የማህበራዊ ሚዲያ አጠቃቀምን እንደ ቀላል መዝናኛ ብቻ ሳይሆን፣ ከፍተኛ ጥንቃቄ እንደሚሻ ‘ምርት’ እንዲመለከቱት ያደርጋል።”

የሜታ ጠበቆች “ኢንስታግራም ለኬሊ ችግር መንስኤ አይደለም” ብለው ቢከራከሩም፣ የሎስ አንጀለሱ ውሳኔ ግን የቴክኖሎጂው ዲዛይን ራሱ “መርዝ” ሊሆን እንደሚችል አረጋግጧል።

ቀጣዩ እርምጃ ምን ሊሆን ይችላል?
ይህ ብይን በመቶዎች ለሚቆጠሩ ተመሳሳይ ክሶች መንገድ ከፋች በመሆኑ፣ ወደፊት ኩባንያዎቹ የሚከተሉትን ለውጦች እንዲያደርጉ ሊገደዱ ይችላሉ፦

• ለታዳጊዎች የሚቀርቡ “ሱስ አስያዥ” ባህሪያትን መቀነስ።
• በየቀኑ የሚፈቀደውን የሰዓት ገደብ ማጥበቅ።
• ለደረሱ ጉዳቶች በቢሊዮን የሚቆጠር ዶላር ካሳ መክፈል።

በሎስ አንጀለስ ፍርድ ቤት በሜታ እና ጎግል ላይ የተሰጠው ውሳኔ ለኢትዮጵያ ትልቅ ደወል ነው። ሆኖም ለኢትዮጵያ ጉዳዩ ይበልጥ ውስብስብ የሚሆነው፣ እነዚህ “ሱስ አስያዥ” የተባሉ ቴክኖሎጂዎች በራሱ በመንግሥት እና በከፍተኛ አመራሮች ዘንድ እንደ ዋነኛ የሥራ እና የፕሮፓጋንዳ መሣሪያ በመወሰዳቸው ነው።

የመንግሥት “ዲጂታል አባዜ” እና የተጋላጭነት ስጋት

ጠቅላይ ሚኒስትር ዐቢይ አሕመድን ጨምሮ ከፍተኛ የመንግሥት ባለሥልጣናት አዳዲስ የቴክኖሎጂ ውጤቶችን (እንደ ቲክቶክ፣ ኤክስ እና ፌስቡክ) በከፍተኛ ሁኔታ መጠቀማቸው ይታወቃል። መንግሥት “ዲጂታል ኢትዮጵያ 2025” በሚል መሪ ቃል ዜጎች ወደ ቴክኖሎጂው እንዲገቡ እያበረታታ ባለበት በዚህ ወቅት፣ የቴክኖሎጂው “አዳኝ” (Predatory) ባህሪ ግን ችላ ተብሏል።

ተባባሪነት ወይስ አጠቃቀም?

መንግሥት እነዚህን መድረኮች ለፖለቲካዊ መልዕክት ማስተላለፊያነት ሲጠቀም፣ ሳያውቀው ወጣቱ ትውልድ በእነዚህ “ሱስ አስያዥ” ስልተ-ቀመሮች (Algorithms) ውስጥ እንዲዘፈቅ በር ይከፍታል። ይህም መንግሥትን የቴክኖሎጂ ኩባንያዎቹ “ያልተፈረመ ስምምነት” ተባባሪ ያደርገዋል።

የፖለቲካ ጉዳት፦ “የአልጎሪዝም ፖለቲካ” እና አለመረጋጋት
በአሜሪካ የተሰጠው ብይን እንደሚያሳየው፣ እነዚህ መድረኮች የተሰሩት ሰውን ስሜታዊ በማድረግ ረጅም ሰዓት እንዲቆይ ነው። በኢትዮጵያ ፖለቲካ ውስጥ ይህ ትልቅ አደጋ አለው፦

የሐሰት መረጃ መስፋፋት፦ ስልተ-ቀመሮቹ (Algorithms) ይበልጥ አነጋጋሪ እና ስሜት ቀስቃሽ የሆኑ የጥላቻ ንግግሮችን እና የሐሰት ወሬዎችን ለተጠቃሚው በማቅረብ ሱስ ያስይዛሉ። ይህ ደግሞ በኅብረተሰቡ ውስጥ ዋልታ ረገጥ ፖለቲካ እንዲነግሥ እና ብሔራዊ መግባባት እንዲጠፋ ያደርጋል።

የወጣቱ ትውልድ መደንዘዝ፦ ወጣቱ በቲክቶክ እና በፌስቡክ ሱስ ውስጥ ሲወድቅ፣ ለፖለቲካዊ ተሳትፎ እና ለሀገራዊ ጉዳዮች ያለው ንቁ ተሳትፎ እየቀነሰ ይሄዳል (Digital Narcissism)።

የኢኮኖሚ ጉዳት፦ ምርታማነት እና የውጭ ምንዛሬ ፍሰት
ከኢኮኖሚ አንጻር የማህበራዊ ሚዲያ ሱስ ለኢትዮጵያ ከፍተኛ ኪሳራ እያመጣ ነው፦

የምርታማነት መቀነስ፦ በሚሊዮን የሚቆጠሩ ወጣቶች እና የመንግሥት ሠራተኞች በሥራ ሰዓት በእነዚህ መድረኮች ላይ የሚያሳልፉት ሰዓት ለሀገር ውስጥ ምርት (GDP) እድገት ትልቅ እንቅፋት ነው።

የውጭ ምንዛሬ ፍሰት፦ ኢትዮጵያውያን በእነዚህ መድረኮች ላይ ማስታወቂያ ሲያወጡ ወይም የቲክቶክ “ስጦታዎችን” (Gifts) ሲለዋወጡ፣ በድብቅም ይሁን በግልጽ ከፍተኛ መጠን ያለው የውጭ ምንዛሬ ከሀገር ይወጣል። ኩባንያዎቹ (ሜታ፣ ጎግል፣ ቲክቶክ) በኢትዮጵያ ተጠቃሚዎች ቢከብሩም፣ ለሀገሪቱ የሚከፍሉት ግብር ወይም የሚያበረክቱት የኢኮኖሚ ድርሻ አነስተኛ ነው።

የሕግ ክፍተት፦ ተኩላው በበግ ለምድ
ኢትዮጵያ የ”ኮምፒውተር ወንጀል አዋጅ” እና የ”መገናኛ ብዙኃን አዋጅ” ቢኖራትም፣ እነዚህ ሕጎች በዋናነት የሚያተኩሩት ይዘት (Content) ላይ እንጂ በቴክኖሎጂ ኩባንያዎቹ “ሱስ አስያዥ ዲዛይን” ላይ አይደለም። መንግሥት የቴክኖሎጂዎቹ አድናቂ በመሆኑ፣ ኩባንያዎቹን በሕግ ከመጠየቅ ይልቅ “ለዲጂታል ዲፕሎማሲ” ቅድሚያ ይሰጣል።

የሎስ አንጀለሱ ብይን ለኢትዮጵያ የሚሰጠው ትምህርት ግልጽ ነው፤ ቴክኖሎጂን ማድነቅ እና መጠቀም አንድ ነገር ሲሆን፣ የቴክኖሎጂ ኩባንያዎች ዜጎችን (በተለይም ታዳጊዎችን) ለትርፍ ሲሉ ለሱስ እንዳይዳርጉ የመቆጣጠር ኃላፊነት ደግሞ ሌላ ነው። መንግሥት የቴክኖሎጂ አፍቃሪነቱን እና የቁጥጥር ኃላፊነቱን ማመጣጠን ካልቻለ፣ ውጤቱ “ዲጂታል ሱስ የተጠናወተው እና በፖለቲካ የተከፋፈለ” ትውልድ መፍጠር ይሆናል።

About Post Author

Ethiopian Tribune editor

editor@ethiopiantribune.com

https://ethiopiantribune.com

Happy

0 0 %

Sad

0 0 %

Excited

0 0 %

Sleepy

0 0 %

Angry

0 0 %

Surprise

0 0 %

By Professor Girma Berhanu

Introduction

The ongoing violence directed against Christian Amhara communities in the Arsi Zone raises serious concerns regarding the protection of vulnerable populations in Ethiopia. Recent reports indicate an intensification of targeted attacks, including killings, abductions, and the destruction of civilian property, particularly in districts such as Shirka, Guna, and Aseko. Investigations by the Ethiopian Human Rights Commission have documented incidents since late 2025 in which armed groups carried out attacks that resulted in deaths, injuries, and displacement of local residents, severely undermining the security and basic rights of affected communities.

These developments must be understood within the broader context of Ethiopia’s complex and evolving conflict dynamics. The Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights has documented widespread human rights violations in multiple regions of the country, including Oromia and Amhara. In 2023 alone, thousands of civilians were killed in violent incidents across these regions, while thousands were subjected to abuses such as arbitrary detention, torture, and forced displacement. Such patterns indicate that the current violence is not an isolated phenomenon but part of a broader cycle of armed conflict and intercommunal tensions orchestrated by the system.

Historically, Amhara communities living in parts of Oromia have periodically faced episodes of mass violence and forced displacement. Several documented incidents—including massacres targeting civilians identified as ethnically Amhara—illustrate the recurring nature of such attacks. One example occurred in 2020 in western Oromia, where hundreds of Amhara civilians were killed in an attack widely reported by international media and human rights observers. These events underscore the vulnerability of minority communities residing outside their region of ethnic majority.

In recent months, observers and human-rights organizations have expressed concern over what appears to be a renewed escalation in violence. Reports describe killings, kidnappings, and large-scale displacement in parts of Oromia, with civilians caught between insurgent groups, local militias, and government forces. The insurgency involving the Oromo Liberation Army has contributed to a deteriorating security environment in which civilians are frequently exposed to abuses by multiple actors. However, the group claimed the violence aimed to fracture collective opposition by pitting communities against one another, including along Oromo–Amhara and Christian–Muslim lines. The OLA further stated that “whether in uniform or without, whether carrying a gun or a pen,” any actor who “weaponizes innocent civilians for political ends” would be considered its enemy, adding that it would confront such forces decisively.

Despite the gravity of these developments, the international response has often been perceived as limited compared with the scale of the humanitarian and human rights concerns involved. Scholars and policy analysts have noted that Ethiopia’s overlapping conflicts—spanning regions such as Tigray, Amhara, and Oromia—have complicated international engagement and reduced sustained attention to localized patterns of violence against minority communities.

Given these conditions, the situation warrants sustained monitoring, systematic documentation, and deeper international engagement. Strengthening mechanisms for independent investigation, accountability, and civilian protection remains essential for mitigating further violence and ensuring that vulnerable communities are afforded the protections guaranteed under international human rights and humanitarian law.

Atrocities in Arsi: A Human Rights Crisis in Ethiopia’s Oromia Region

The country of Ethiopia has been engulfed in war, massacres, and displacement at an alarming rate since Prime Minister Abiy came to power. The victims are mostly Amharas, particularly those who belong to the Orthodox Church. Such incidents have become increasingly common in the Oromia region. The perpetrators are often described as state-sponsored paramilitary groups and the so-called OLF, with each side blaming the other. This situation has continued for approximately eight years. Millions of people have lost their lives, properties have been destroyed, and displacement has become a defining feature of the new Ethiopia. The crimes being committed against Ethiopia and the defenseless Amharas are unbelievably horrifying and multifaceted. Yet both national actors and the international community remain largely silent.

The current spree of massacres in Arsi is telling. It took now over 6 months unabated. Many known media and newspapers have reported the atrocities. A good gesture is that three major Ethiopian religious bodies condemned the killing of 21 civilians in Shirka Woreda, East Arsi, urging swift investigations, accountability and stronger protection to prevent further inter-religious tensions. The Permanent Synod of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church, the Inter-Religious Council of Ethiopia, and the Ethiopian Islamic Affairs Supreme Council have each issued statements condemning the killing of 21 civilians in Shirka Woreda, East Arsi Zone of Oromia Region. They urged authorities to take immediate action to bring the perpetrators to justice and strengthen protection for residents. In their statements, the religious institutions denounced the attack and called for swift, transparent investigations, warning against attempts to exploit the incident to incite further violence. The known Borkena news outlet has reported the massacres continuously.

Violence in Arsi Zone and Competing Narratives

The Oromo Liberation Army has accused what it described as “mercenaries” of moving through the Arsi Zone and deliberately targeting Orthodox Christian civilians in order to inflame inter-religious and inter-ethnic tensions. The group has denied responsibility for attacks against civilians and instead alleged that unidentified armed actors are attempting to provoke conflict between communities.

In a statement dated 1 March 2026, the Permanent Synod of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church reported that it had received information from its dioceses indicating that at least 21 civilians were killed in an attack in East Arsi. According to the statement, several survivors were abducted and their whereabouts remain unknown, while homes and property belonging to more than ten households were burned. The Synod emphasized that the victims were Orthodox Christians with no involvement in any armed conflict and stated that perpetrators who invoke religion to justify violence do not represent the teachings of any faith tradition. It further warned that such attacks risk creating divisions among religious communities that have historically coexisted in relative harmony and called upon Muslim and Christian leaders to jointly condemn the violence.

The Ethiopian Islamic Affairs Supreme Council similarly expressed deep sorrow over the killings of what it described as innocent Orthodox Christian civilians in Shirka Woreda. In its statement, the council stressed that the attack does not represent any religious teaching and warned that such incidents threaten long-standing traditions of inter-religious coexistence and mutual respect. Independent reporting and advocacy sources have also highlighted the severity of the violence in the region. According to reports cited by the media outlet Borkena, districts including Shirka, Merti, Guna, and Holonto have experienced repeated attacks in which civilians were killed or injured, property was destroyed, and communities were displaced. These reports characterize the situation as a significant escalation of violence in the Arsi Zone.

The Ethiopian Human Rights Commission (EHRC) has documented a pattern of attacks affecting civilians in the area in its March 2026 reporting. According to the commission, recent incidents resulted in dozens of deaths, including multiple killings in Shirka and Merti districts, alongside cases of injury, abduction, and missing persons. The EHRC also noted broader patterns of insecurity in parts of Oromia since 2025, where recurring attacks on civilians have contributed to a wider humanitarian and human rights crisis. Eyewitness accounts collected by investigators and journalists describe highly coordinated attacks in which armed assailants targeted households and villages, leading to civilian deaths and widespread displacement. These testimonies indicate that communities have been subjected to intimidation, destruction of homes, and forced migration, contributing to a deteriorating humanitarian situation in the region.

At the same time, responsibility for the violence remains contested. Federal and regional authorities have repeatedly attributed many attacks to the Oromo Liberation Army, while the OLA has denied involvement and accused government forces or affiliated militias of staging or exploiting violence in order to justify security operations. This cycle of mutual accusations has complicated efforts to establish accountability and has hindered independent verification of events on the ground. The resulting climate of uncertainty underscores the need for impartial investigation. Without credible and transparent inquiries into the perpetrators of these attacks, the persistence of violence risks normalizing impunity and further undermining social cohesion in Ethiopia’s ethnically and religiously diverse society. Strengthening mechanisms for independent investigation, civilian protection, and accountability therefore remains critical to preventing further atrocities and restoring trust between communities.

Borkena. (2022, September 27). Ethiopia: Attack in Horo Guduru Wollega, Oromia region. https://borkena.com/2022/09/27/ethiopia-horo-guduru-wollega-oromo-region/

The ‘New Auschwitz’? Mass Violence and the Targeting of Civilians in Arsi Zone

Many years ago, I visited the Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial and Museum, located on the grounds of the former Auschwitz concentration camp, the largest Nazi concentration and extermination camp during World War II. Several years later, I also visited a Jewish cultural center and museum in Riga, Latvia, which similarly commemorates the persecution and destruction of Jewish communities during the Holocaust. Today, Auschwitz-Birkenau and other Holocaust memorial institutions serve as powerful sites of remembrance, preserving the memory of immense human suffering and reminding visitors of the catastrophic consequences of hatred, discrimination, and systematic dehumanization.

The Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial and Museum provides a detailed historical account of the camp complex and the atrocities committed there. It stands as a solemn warning about what can occur when prejudice, exclusion, and ideological extremism are allowed to escalate unchecked. The enduring message of such memorials was eloquently articulated by Ellen Germain during the 75th anniversary of the museum on 13 July 2022. She emphasized the responsibility of future generations to safeguard historical truth:

“We must safeguard your testimony, their testimony, so that truth will never die. The world must never forget. The world must never deny. The world must never downplay the Holocaust. We must remain ever on guard, and we must do far more to teach the lessons of the Holocaust and apply them in our own time. We must counter hate and lies with tolerance and truth. And we must stand up for human dignity and freedom wherever they are imperiled.”

These reflections underline a critical principle: remembrance is not solely about honoring the victims of the past, but also about recognizing warning signs in the present. The lessons of the Holocaust compel societies to remain vigilant when patterns of discrimination, dehumanization, and targeted violence begin to emerge. When communities are singled out because of their identity—whether ethnic, religious, or cultural—the risk of escalating persecution becomes real.

It is within this broader moral and historical framework that contemporary reports of violence against civilians in the Arsi Zone must be considered. While historical contexts differ, the persistence of attacks against vulnerable populations raises urgent questions about protection, accountability, and the international community’s responsibility to respond when civilians become targets of systematic violence.

More than seventy-five years after the crematoria ceased their inhuman work, the Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial and Museum continues to preserve the former camp complex as a permanent site of memory. The preservation of this Holocaust memorial serves an essential purpose: to help future generations understand the consequences of hatred, racism, and systematic violence, and to ensure that such atrocities are never repeated. The site also stands as enduring evidence against those who attempt to deny or distort the historical reality of the Holocaust.

Yet the lessons of these memorials are not confined to the past. The warning they convey—that societies must remain vigilant against hatred, persecution, and mass violence—remains deeply relevant today. Reports from several contemporary conflicts suggest that civilians continue to face grave abuses, including in the ongoing war in Ukraine and in parts of Ethiopia.

Particularly troubling are reports of attacks against civilians in the Arsi Zone of the Oromia Region. Accounts from religious institutions, local sources, and human-rights observers describe killings, abductions, and the destruction of homes affecting vulnerable communities. These reports raise serious concerns about the protection of civilians and the ability of affected populations to seek safety during episodes of violence. While historical contexts differ greatly from those of the Holocaust, the recurrence of violence against civilians underscores the enduring importance of remembering past atrocities and applying their lessons to contemporary crises. Memorials such as Auschwitz remind the world that indifference to suffering, denial of abuses, and failure to protect vulnerable populations can have devastating consequences. Ensuring accountability and safeguarding human dignity therefore remain essential responsibilities for governments, civil society, and the international community alike.

Violence, Silence, and Moral Responsibility

Reports emerging from parts of Oromia Region, particularly in areas such as Arsi Zone and Wollega, describe widespread violence against civilians, including killings, displacement, and the destruction of homes and livelihoods. Observers and advocacy groups have raised concerns that armed actors operating in the region have targeted vulnerable communities and that humanitarian access has at times been restricted, making independent verification and relief efforts extremely difficult. Allegations have also surfaced that bodies of victims have been burned and that attacks on civilians have been carried out with extreme brutality—imagery that evokes memories of some of the darkest chapters of twentieth-century violence.

This paper seeks to draw attention to what many observers describe as a deeply underreported humanitarian tragedy unfolding in these regions. While the historical contexts differ greatly from those of the Nazi concentration camps, the scale of civilian suffering and the persistence of violence raise urgent moral and political questions. Reports indicate that armed groups operating in the region, sometimes in environments where security institutions have failed to provide adequate protection, have created conditions in which communities live under constant fear of attack. As a result, thousands of civilians have reportedly been displaced and forced to flee their homes, creating a growing humanitarian crisis.

The failure of state institutions to adequately protect citizens exacerbates this tragedy. When attacks occur repeatedly without credible investigation or accountability, communities lose confidence in the ability of authorities to safeguard their security and basic rights. Observers have therefore called for independent investigations into allegations of mass killings, human rights abuses, and other violations in order to establish the facts and ensure that perpetrators are held accountable under the rule of law.

Ethiopia today faces immense human suffering and a profound national crisis. Many citizens feel that the country’s political future is increasingly shaped by competing ethno-nationalist movements and armed actors. In such an environment, atrocities—including killings, arrests, and the mistreatment of civilians—risk becoming normalized. The silence of political leaders, humanitarian actors, and international institutions in the face of such reports has raised troubling questions among many Ethiopians about whether the suffering of their communities is receiving adequate attention.

Religious and moral leaders may have an especially important role to play in such circumstances. Ethiopia is a deeply religious society in which spiritual institutions often serve as sources of moral guidance and social cohesion. Leaders from all faith traditions—Christian, Muslim, and indigenous spiritual traditions—can help promote reconciliation and emphasize the shared humanity of all Ethiopians. Their voices are particularly important in reminding communities that violence committed in the name of religion or ethnicity contradicts the ethical principles that faith traditions claim to uphold.

Periods of national crisis also highlight the importance of collective moral responsibility. Philosophical discussions of responsibility emphasize that institutions and leaders bear a duty to prevent harm when they possess the power to do so (Risser, 1996). Silence in the face of injustice can enable further abuses, while moral leadership can help mobilize societies toward peace and accountability. As the writer Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn warned in The Gulag Archipelago, ignoring evil allows it to grow and ultimately undermines the foundations of justice.

Understanding why societies sometimes fail to respond to mass atrocities has also been explored by scholars. Psychologist Paul Slovic describes the phenomenon of “psychic numbing,” in which large-scale human suffering paradoxically leads to reduced emotional engagement and weaker public action (Slovic, 2007). People often respond strongly to the suffering of a single identifiable victim, yet become increasingly indifferent when confronted with statistics describing thousands of victims. This dynamic may help explain why some humanitarian crises fail to receive sustained international attention.

Political scientists have also highlighted how ethnic identity can be mobilized by political elites in ways that intensify violence. According to James D. Fearon and David D. Laitin, ethnic violence is frequently linked to strategic political mobilization in which elites frame conflicts in ethnic terms in order to consolidate power or mobilize supporters (Fearon & Laitin, 2000). Such narratives can generate fear, deepen divisions, and ultimately legitimize violence against perceived out-groups.

These dynamics underscore the importance of resisting propaganda, rejecting narratives that dehumanize other communities, and reaffirming the shared dignity of all citizens. Throughout history, attempts to manipulate ethnic identity for political purposes have produced devastating consequences. Divide-and-rule strategies and discourses of ethnic superiority can create cycles of resentment and retaliation that undermine national cohesion and long-term stability.

Ethiopia’s future therefore depends on a renewed commitment to accountability, justice, and reconciliation. Independent investigations, protection of civilians, and responsible leadership are essential steps toward breaking cycles of violence. Equally important is the willingness of citizens, community leaders, and institutions to confront injustice openly and to reject the normalization of cruelty and hatred.

As writer E. A. Bucchianeri observed, “It’s not unpatriotic to denounce an injustice committed on our behalf; perhaps it’s the most patriotic thing we can do.” Speaking out against violence and defending the dignity of all human beings is not an act of division—it is a necessary foundation for a just and peaceful society.

In conclusion, I argue that the Abiy regime’s leadership incompetence, systemic cruelty, and moral vacuum have directly fueled Ethiopia’s current crises—the result of a leadership class lacking fundamental moral intelligence. Beheshtifar, Esmaeli, and Moghadam (2011) define moral intelligence as the “central intelligence for all humans,” distinct from both cognitive and emotional intelligence. Lennick and Kiel, the architects of this concept, identify its four pillars as integrity, responsibility, forgiveness, and compassion. Ethiopian ethnonationalists, particularly Oromo extremists, exhibit a profound deficit in these competencies—a legacy of moral decay inherited from their TPLF predecessors. For those lacking this essential intelligence, deception and malice become the standard, creating a pervasive political pathology that defines the current era.

References

Beheshtifar, M., Esmaeli, Z., & Moghadam, M. N. (2011). Effect of moral intelligence on leadership. European Journal of Economics, Finance and Administrative Sciences, 43, 6–11.

Cohen, S. (2013). States of denial: Knowing about atrocities and suffering. Polity Press.

Eurasia Review. (2021, May 16). The logic behind events in Ethiopia (Op-ed). https://www.eurasiareview.com/16052021-the-logic-behind-events-in-ethiopia-oped/

Eurasia Review. (2022, April 13). Victims and victimization in Ethiopian politics: Targeting the Amhara on three fronts (Op-ed). https://www.eurasiareview.com/13042022-victims-and-victimization-in-ethiopian-politics-targeting-the-amhara-on-three-fronts-oped/

Eurasia Review. (2022, July 26). Oromummaa unchained: Ethnic apartheid and territorial expansion in Ethiopia (Op-ed). https://www.eurasiareview.com/26072022-oromummaa-unchained-ethnic-apartheid-and-territorial-expansion-in-ethiopia-oped/

Fearon, J. D., & Laitin, D. D. (2000). Violence and the social construction of ethnic identity. International Organization, 54(4), 845–877.

Lind, G. (2008). The meaning and measurement of moral judgment competence: A dual-aspect model. In D. Fasko Jr. & W. Willis (Eds.), Contemporary philosophical and psychological perspectives on moral development and education (pp. 185–220). Hampton Press.

Risser, D. T. (1978). Power and collective responsibility. Kinesis, 9(1), 23–33.

Risser, D. T. (1996). The social dimension of moral responsibility: Taking organizations seriously. Journal of Social Philosophy, 27(1), 189–207.

Slovic, P. (2007). “If I look at the mass I will never act”: Psychic numbing and genocide. Judgment and Decision Making, 2(2), 79–95.

The Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy. (n.d.). Collective moral responsibility. http://www.iep.utm.edu/collecti/

The New Yorker. (2022, October 3). Did a Nobel Peace Laureate stoke a civil war? https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2022/10/03/did-a-nobel-peace-laureate-stoke-a-civil-war

The Washington Post. (2022, July 18). Ethiopian genocide commands attention. https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2022/07/18/ethiopian-genocide-commands-attention/

White, J. R. (2005). Auschwitz: A new history. History: Reviews of New Books, 34(1), 19. https://doi.org/10.1080/03612759.2005.10526737

The views, arguments, and conclusions expressed in this article are solely those of the author, Professor Girma Berhanu, and do not represent the editorial position of the Ethiopian Tribune. Readers are encouraged to consult multiple sources when forming their own judgments on the complex and evolving situation described.

Contact information:

Girma Berhanu

Department of Education and Special Education (Professor) University of Gothenburg

Box 300, SE 405 30

Göteborg, Sweden

About Post Author

Ethiopian Tribune editor

editor@ethiopiantribune.com

https://ethiopiantribune.com

Happy

0 0 %

Sad

0 0 %

Excited

0 0 %

Sleepy

0 0 %

Angry

0 0 %

Surprise

0 0 %

By Endex The Ethiopian Tribune editor in chief

Opinion & Analysis

There is a particular kind of arrogance embedded in the way certain international media institutions cover Africa. It is not always the arrogance of open hostility that would at least be straightforward to contest. It is, rather, the arrogance of the editorial template: the quiet, institutional assumption that a continent of fifty-four nations and a billion-plus souls can be adequately explained through a rotating cast of familiar imagery famine, fragmentation, and failure. Ethiopia has endured this treatment for decades. What demands urgent examination today is not merely that it persists, but who is perpetuating it, why, and what Ethiopia ought to do in response.
Al Jazeera, the Doha-based broadcaster funded by the Qatari state, has positioned itself globally as the voice of the underdog, the challenger of Western media hegemony, the outlet that speaks truth to power. It is a seductive proposition, and in certain contexts, notably its early coverage of the Arab Spring, it was not without merit. Yet when the camera turns toward Ethiopia, something rather revealing happens to that self-proclaimed editorial conscience. The underdog disappears. The complexity vanishes. What remains is a country rendered perpetually crisis-ridden, politically naïve, and diplomatically inconsequential.
This is not an accident. It is a pattern, and patterns in journalism are never merely stylistic.

The Architecture of a Double Standard
Academic scrutiny of Al Jazeera’s reporting on the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD) has produced findings that should embarrass any institution claiming journalistic neutrality. Research by Aqalh and Abdul-Nabi (2026) demonstrates that the network’s coverage systematically “privileges Egyptian existential narratives whilst minimising Ethiopian developmental claims.” Abebe, Tilahun, and Belay (2024) reach a complementary conclusion, finding that Al Jazeera “foregrounds conflict frames at the expense of cooperative or technical frames” when reporting the Ethio-Egyptian dispute. Nigatu and Lidetie (2025) are yet more direct, arguing that “the discursive privileging of Egyptian claims reflects broader regional power dynamics rather than journalistic neutrality.”
Let us be plain about what this means. When Ethiopia constructs a dam on the Blue Nile, a sovereign infrastructure project on its own territory, financed by its own citizens through bond purchases, designed to lift tens of millions out of energy poverty, Al Jazeera frames this as aggression. When Egypt invokes the language of existential threat to describe a dam it has no legal authority to veto, Al Jazeera amplifies that framing with minimal interrogation. The asymmetry is not subtle, and it is not neutral. It is, to borrow a phrase the network itself would deploy without hesitation in other contexts, state-serving propaganda dressed in the clothing of public interest journalism.
This double standard becomes yet more conspicuous when Al Jazeera trains its editorial eye upon Ethiopian journalists and social media influencers allegedly paid to promote Israeli narratives without disclosure. The ethical failures in question are genuine. Undisclosed sponsored travel is a serious breach of journalistic integrity, and it warrants honest, vigorous accountability. But Al Jazeera’s framing of these individual cases does not stop at ethical critique. It extrapolates, implying a broader Ethiopian susceptibility to manipulation, a national gullibility, as though the misconduct of a handful of individuals reveals something essentially true and damning about Ethiopia as a political society. One struggles to recall Al Jazeera applying the same extrapolative logic to, say, British journalists compromised by government access, or American commentators embedded with Gulf state public relations operations. The standard, it seems, applies selectively, and the selection tells us a great deal.

The Geopolitics Beneath the Editorial Line
Al Jazeera’s coverage of Ethiopia cannot be understood without understanding Qatar. The network is not an independent editorial enterprise in the manner it presents itself; it is a state-funded broadcaster whose editorial orientations are inevitably shaped by Qatari foreign policy priorities. Qatar has significant strategic interests in the Horn of Africa. It has mediated, with mixed results and considerable self-interest, in various regional disputes. Its relationships with Egypt, with various Islamist political movements, and with competing Gulf powers all create a web of geopolitical incentives that bear directly upon how its flagship broadcaster chooses to cover a country like Ethiopia.
When Al Jazeera foregrounds Ethiopian instability, it is not simply making an editorial judgement about newsworthiness. It is whether consciously or through the more insidious mechanism of institutionalised editorial culture, producing a representation of Ethiopia that serves certain regional actors and their preferred narratives. A fractious, fragile, easily-manipulated Ethiopia is convenient for those who wish to portray the GERD as reckless rather than visionary, who wish to frame Ethiopian foreign policy as reactive rather than strategic, who wish, in short, to diminish Ethiopia’s standing in a region where it remains, despite everything, the most populous nation and the diplomatic anchor of the African Union.
This is media as geopolitical instrument. It deserves to be named as such.

The History That Dare Not Speak Its Name

Perhaps the most intellectually dishonest feature of Al Jazeera’s recent Ethiopia coverage is what it refuses to remember. Ethiopia is home to one of Africa’s largest refugee populations — not as a transit country, but as a host. Hundreds of thousands of displaced people from Somalia, Eritrea, Sudan, South Sudan, Syria, and Yemen have found sanctuary on Ethiopian soil. Syrians who fled the catastrophic civil war that Al Jazeera covered with such sustained passion built lives in Addis Ababa, opened businesses, integrated into communities welcomed, for the most part, without the violent xenophobia that has disfigured the response of certain wealthier nations considerably better placed to absorb displacement. This is an extraordinary humanitarian record. Al Jazeera, so reliably attentive to refugee suffering when it serves a particular narrative, has shown remarkably little interest in it here.
More glaring still is the erasure of Ethiopia’s history with Palestine. Ethiopia was among the earliest African nations to extend formal support to the Palestinian Liberation Organisation. Yasir Arafat addressed African leaders at the Organisation of African Unity in Addis Ababa; Ethiopia voted consistently in multilateral forums for Palestinian self-determination; Ethiopian diplomacy maintained active solidarity with Palestinian representatives at a time when such solidarity carried genuine political cost. This is not contested history. It is documented, verifiable, and, one might think, precisely the kind of historical context that a broadcaster claiming to champion the Palestinian cause would consider relevant when reporting on Ethiopian figures accused of normalisation.
The omission is not an oversight. Omissions of this magnitude are editorial choices, and editorial choices have politics. By stripping this history from its coverage, Al Jazeera constructs an Ethiopia that appears opportunistic, indifferent, or simply ignorant, when the historical record suggests something rather different. It is a fabrication by deletion, and it is no less dishonest for being achieved through silence rather than falsehood.

The Weaponisation of Ethical Critique
It would be foolish to dismiss the ethical questions surrounding undisclosed sponsored content. Ethiopian journalists, influencers, and public figures who accepted Israeli government-linked hospitality without transparency owe their audiences an explanation, and the institutions responsible for upholding professional standards in Ethiopian media must take this seriously. There is real work to be done here, and it must be done by Ethiopians critically, rigorously, and without defensiveness.
But Al Jazeera’s intervention in this conversation is not a contribution to that work. It is an exploitation of it. By transforming individual ethical failures into evidence of systemic national vulnerability, the network performs a rhetorical manoeuvre with which African countries are depressingly familiar: the individualisation of misconduct when the individual is sympathetic, and the nationalisation of misconduct when the nation is a useful target. The miscreant becomes the country; the country becomes the cautionary tale; and Al Jazeera, whose own editorial record includes systematic bias in its coverage of Qatar’s regional rivals, Egypt’s political upheavals, and the Syrian catastrophe, positions itself as moral arbiter.
This is audacity of a remarkable order. It ought to be said so, plainly and in public.

Reclaiming the Story
None of this analysis should be mistaken for an argument that Ethiopia’s image problems are entirely externally manufactured. There are genuine governance challenges, genuine humanitarian crises, genuine failures of accountability that Ethiopian citizens, including this columnist, have every right and obligation to scrutinise honestly. The integrity of Ethiopian public discourse depends upon exactly that kind of internal accountability. Narrative sovereignty is not a licence for self-flattery.
But there is a meaningful difference between honest internal critique and the systematic, geopolitically-motivated distortion of a country’s image by a foreign state broadcaster with its own interests to protect. Ethiopia is entitled to contest the latter even whilst engaging in the former. Indeed, the two are inseparable: a society confident enough in its own critical institutions is far better equipped to push back against external misrepresentation precisely because it has already done the harder work of honest self-examination.
What is required, practically, is investment in Ethiopian media institutions of genuine independence, in scholarly work that produces the kind of evidence-based counter-analysis demonstrated by researchers at Addis Ababa University and Jimma University, in diplomatic and cultural channels that carry Ethiopian perspectives into international conversations without waiting for the permission of hostile intermediaries. The work of Abebe, Tilahun, and Belay (2024), of Nigatu and Lidetie (2025), of Ayalew (2021) — this is exactly the kind of intellectual infrastructure upon which narrative sovereignty is built. It needs to be resourced, disseminated, and taken seriously by Ethiopian institutions at every level.

A Final Remark
Al Jazeera will, in all probability, continue to cover Ethiopia through the lens of crisis, conflict, and selective moral outrage. The incentives that produce such coverage have not changed. What can change is Ethiopia’s posture in relation to it , from passive subject to active interlocutor, from recipient of external narratives to producer of its own.
Ethiopia’s story, its complexity, its resilience, its genuinely extraordinary diplomatic and humanitarian record, is too important to be left to those with every reason to tell it badly.
It is time to tell it ourselves.

——————-//——————-

References
Abebe, T., Tilahun, M. & Belay, S. (2024) Media Framing of the Ethio-Egyptian Dispute over the First Round Water Filling of GERD: ETV and Al Jazeera in Focus. Addis Ababa University Press.

Aqalh, A. & Abdul-Nabi, M. (2026) Framing of Ethiopia–Egypt Dam Conflict: A Comparative Analysis of Al-Jazeera and Al-Arabiya. Emerald Publishing. DOI: 10.1108/978-1-80592-949-920261005.

Ayalew, M. (2021) Framing of the Ethio-Egypt Conflict on GERD’s Water Filling: ETV and Al-Jazeera in Focus. MA Thesis, Jimma University.

Nigatu, M. & Lidetie, A. (2025) ‘Sovereignty vs Survival: A Critical Discourse Analysis of BBC and Al-Jazeera’s Reporting on GERD Negotiations’, Cogent Arts & Humanities, 12(1). DOI: 10.1080/23311983.2025.2451486.

Ojola, D. (2025) Framing Analysis of BBC and Al Jazeera Coverage of the Ethiopia–Somaliland MoU. University of Helsinki.

About Post Author

Ethiopian Tribune editor

editor@ethiopiantribune.com

https://ethiopiantribune.com

Happy

0 0 %

Sad

0 0 %

Excited

0 0 %

Sleepy

0 0 %

Angry

0 0 %

Surprise

0 0 %

Memory, Martyrdom and the Mirage of the New Dubai

By Endex Ethiopian Tribune Chief Editor

A Date That Refuses to Fade and a City That Cannot Recognise Itself

Fly into Bole International Airport on any given morning and the new visitor to Addis Ababa will likely be struck by something unexpected. Glass towers catch the equatorial light. Half-finished luxury condominium blocks crowd the skyline. Billboards in Arabic and English advertise residential developments with names that evoke the Gulf. A certain class of returning diaspora, a certain strain of breathless travel writing, and a particular kind of investor prospectus have begun circulating a phrase that would have bewildered the city’s founders: Addis Ababa is the new Dubai.

Do they know it is Yekatit 12?

To ask that question in February 2026 as the Ethiopian calendar turns again toward Yekatit 12, the date on which 19 February 1937 falls,  is to ask something more urgent than whether visitors to Addis Ababa are aware of a historical tragedy. It is to ask whether the city’s newest patrons, its most vocal claimants, and its most ambitious planners have absorbed the ethical inheritance of that day: that Addis Ababa has already been declared, once before, the exclusive property of a foreign power and a particular vision of luxury. That it was reordered by force. That people died approximately 19,200 of them in seventy-two hours alone, by Ian Campbell’s careful estimate (Campbell, 2017), so that it might become someone else’s imperial capital.

The Dubai comparison is not merely aesthetic vanity. It is a political symptom. And Yekatit 12 is the historical lens through which its contradictions become visible.

I. The New Dubai Narrative: What It Means and Who It Serves

The comparison to Dubai carries different meanings depending on who is speaking. For some international observers and diplomats, it gestures toward Addis Ababa’s undeniable growth, its expanded road networks, its Chinese-built light railway, its emergence as the diplomatic capital of the African continent, home to the African Union and a proliferating constellation of UN agencies. The city accounts for more than thirty per cent of Ethiopia’s GDP while housing less than five per cent of its population (CSA, 2008). By certain measures, the analogy is not absurd.

But the Dubai comparison being circulated in a more specific, and more troubling, register is not primarily about economic dynamism. It is about a particular aesthetic and a particular clientele. It refers to UAE investors who have secured controlling stakes in high-end residential developments in the city’s expanding districts. It refers to the direct financial relationships cultivated between the government of Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed and Gulf capital relationships that have channelled foreign direct investment into visible, photogenic infrastructure while the social fabric beneath it strains under contradictions the glass facades do not reflect.

When visitors from abroad describe Addis Ababa as the new Dubai, they are often, whether they know it or not, describing a city being remade for a particular class of people. The Emirati investor. The returning high-net-worth diaspora. The international NGO professional who wants a rooftop pool and a concierge. What they are less likely to be describing — because these people are no longer visible in the neighbourhoods being redeveloped are the approximately 100,000 residents displaced from the city’s central and peri-urban areas to make room for this transformation. Communities removed from Kolfe, Gulele, Kirkos and the expanding metropolitan fringe, relocated to peripheral blocks far from their livelihoods, their schools, their social networks.

One hundred thousand people cleared. A skyline polished for the richest Gulf citizens.

Do they know it is Yekatit 12?

Historian Ian Campbell has documented how Italian fascist urban planners in the late 1930s envisioned reordering Addis Ababa along precisely these lines: European quarters to enjoy paved roads, sanitation and modernist boulevards; indigenous districts relegated to peripheral zones with minimal services (Campbell, 2017). Anti-miscegenation laws enforced social separation. By 1939, approximately 50,000 Italians resided in Ethiopia, concentrated in the capital. The colonial premise was explicit: Addis Ababa was to become a European imperial city, with Africans in subordinate spaces.

The mechanisms today are different. There are no Blackshirts. The legal instruments are municipal development orders, master plans and market forces rather than racial laws. Yet the spatial logic, the clearing of the poor and the indigenous to make room for an aspirationally cosmopolitan elite, carries an uncomfortable historical resonance that the Dubai enthusiasts have not paused to examine.

II. The Conservative Ethiopian Nationalist Argument: Menelik’s City Belongs to All Ethiopians

Before examining the Oromo elite claim on Addis Ababa, it is necessary to give serious attention to a counter-argument that Ethiopian nationalist conservatives have long advanced one that is historically substantive, frequently overlooked in international commentary, and which contains within it a profound and under-appreciated irony.

Conservative Ethiopian nationalists argue, with considerable historical justification, that Addis Ababa was founded as a city for all Ethiopians. Emperor Menelik II established the capital formally in 1886, choosing the site, known to surrounding Oromo communities as Finfinne , for its elevation, its climate and its hot springs. His empress, Taytu Betul, is credited with naming it Addis Ababa: New Flower. From its founding, it was conceived not as a tribal or ethnic capital but as the seat of a multi-ethnic empire that Menelik was in the process of consolidating.

Here the nationalist argument introduces its most pointed historical observation, and it deserves to be stated clearly and without embarrassment: Menelik II himself, by bloodline and ancestry, was of mixed heritage that included Oromo lineage. This is not a fringe claim. It is documented in Ethiopian dynastic history. The same applies, with varying degrees of genealogical complexity, to Emperor Haile Selassie I, whose family connections crossed the ethnic boundaries that contemporary political discourse treats as ancient and impermeable. And it applies, most strikingly of all, to President Mengistu Haile Mariam, the Derg strongman whose brutal seventeen-year rule is among the darkest chapters in Ethiopian history and who was himself of partial Oromo descent.

The conservative nationalist argument draws from this a pointed observation: none of these leaders not Menelik, not Haile Selassie, not even Mengistu ever claimed Addis Ababa as an exclusively Oromo city. None of them framed the capital as the sovereign possession of a single ethnicity. Whatever their failures, and those failures were considerable and in Mengistu’s case catastrophic, each of them conceptualised Addis Ababa as a city in which all Ethiopians, Amhara, Oromo, Gurage, Tigrean, Somali, Sidama and all others, had the right to dwell, to trade, to worship and to call home.

This is not a trivial point. It means that the framing of Addis Ababa as exclusively Oromo space,  Finfinne for the Oromo and by implication not equally for other Ethiopians, represents not the recovery of an ancient tradition but the invention of a new and exclusionary politics. Even the emperors and dictators of Oromo blood who preceded the current era did not make this claim. They governed, badly or well, as Ethiopians over Ethiopians.

The conservative nationalist position has its own blind spots and its own uses as political instrument. Ethiopian nationalism has historically suppressed minority identities, denied linguistic rights and used the rhetoric of unity to justify assimilationist policies that caused genuine harm to Oromo, Somali and other communities. The 2014-2016 protests that mobilised hundreds of thousands of Oromo demonstrators, and that cost hundreds of lives at the hands of federal security forces, were not manufactured grievances. They arose from real injustice.

But the nationalist argument about Addis Ababa’s civic universalism contains a democratic insight that transcends its ideological packaging: a city founded by a man of partial Oromo ancestry, built by labour from every corner of the empire, grown through the settlement of dozens of communities across more than a century, cannot be retrospectively converted into the exclusive patrimony of one ethnic group — even the ethnic group from whose land it grew.

If Menelik , Oromo by blood among other things, built a city for all Ethiopians, then the claim that his city belongs to Oromos alone is, at minimum, a selective reading of his own project. And if that claim is advanced by an elite class whose members have accumulated land, political appointments, business licenses and international celebrity under the banner of Oromo rights, while 100,000 poor residents, many of them Oromo themselves are cleared to make room for Gulf-financed towers, then the contradiction becomes not merely intellectual but moral.

III. The Oromo Elite Claim: Justice, Selectivity and the Dubai Exit

The claim of Oromo elites to Addis Ababa as fundamentally Oromo space is historically grounded in the displacement and dispossession that accompanied the city’s expansion across what had been Oromo farmland and grazing territory. The 1995 Constitution’s recognition of Oromia’s “special interest” in the capital under Article 49 reflects a constitutional acknowledgement of this history (Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia, 1995). The protests of 2014-2016 demonstrated that these grievances commanded mass support across Oromia (Human Rights Watch, 2016).

Yet within elite Oromo political discourse, something else has also been operating alongside these legitimate arguments: a language of exclusive possession that sits uncomfortably beside the behaviour of those who advance it most loudly.

No figure encapsulates these contradictions more sharply than Feyisa Lilesa. At the 2016 Rio Olympics, Lilesa crossed the marathon finishing line with his arms raised in an X — the gesture of Oromo protest performed before a global audience while his fellow protesters were being shot in the streets of Oromia. It was an act of extraordinary symbolic courage that forced the world to look at Ethiopia when it preferred to look away.

Yet the story does not end at the finishing line. Reports emerged that Lilesa was subsequently involved in a road incident in Addis Ababa in which children were struck by his four-wheel drive vehicle. Rather than face accountability within the country whose cause he had embodied, he departed. To Dubai.

The irony is almost architectural in its precision. The man who became the international face of Oromo resistance against a government he accused of dispossessing and killing his people who converted that resistance into celebrity, political protection and material wealth,  chose, when accountability arrived at his own door, to flee to the very city whose model of glittering exclusivity is now being applied to Addis Ababa to dispossess the very communities he claimed to represent.

Dubai does not do accountability. It does luxury and impunity and the purchased anonymity of the very wealthy. That an Oromo elite should flee there and that this should be treated as a private matter of no political relevance  is not a footnote. It is a window into the class character of an elite that speaks the language of historical justice while living the life of Gulf-adjacent privilege.

IV. The Shared Bloodline the Politicians Prefer to Forget

The conservative nationalist observation about Menelik’s Oromo ancestry opens a deeper question that contemporary Ethiopian identity politics systematically suppresses: after more than a century of intermarriage, shared urban life, military service, commercial partnership and cultural exchange in Addis Ababa, the ethnic categories being deployed to divide the city’s past and future are far less stable than any of their champions acknowledge.

Haile Selassie presided over a modernising empire with genuine Oromo lineage in his family tree and chose to govern as an Ethiopian emperor rather than an Oromo king. Mengistu Haile Mariam, a man of Oromo and Konso descent who instituted one of the most brutal dictatorships in African history, never once claimed to be governing in the name of Oromo sovereignty. Whatever the crimes of these regimes, and they were grave, their ethnic self-positioning was consistently toward an Ethiopian identity that encompassed rather than excluded.

The irony that contemporary Oromo elite nationalism, which presents itself as liberation from Amhara imperial domination,  finds its most direct historical refutation not in Amhara voices but in the choices of leaders who shared Oromo blood and chose Ethiopia anyway, is one that the current political discourse is structurally unable to process.

This does not mean that Oromo historical grievances are invalid. It means that the ethnic framework being used to prosecute those grievances is considerably more constructed, more recent and more politically motivated than its proponents acknowledge. As the 2007 census indicates, Addis Ababa is approximately 47 per cent Amharic-speaking, 19 per cent Oromo-speaking, 16 per cent Gurage-speaking, with significant further diversity in the remainder. These communities did not arrive as colonial settlers. They arrived, over generations, as Ethiopians, many of them poor Ethiopians seeking livelihoods in the capital that Menelik built and that every subsequent government maintained as a shared national space.

V. Displacement as Continuity: From Fascist Segregation to Market Erasure

Italian occupation of Addis Ababa from 1936 to 1941 was spatial as well as military. Urban planning documents from the period proposed redesigning the city along racial lines, displacing Ethiopians to peripheral zones while European quarters received paved roads, sanitation and modernist architecture (Campbell, 2017; Labanca, 2002). The demographic shock of Yekatit 12, approximately 20 per cent of the city’s population killed in seventy-two hours, emptied neighbourhoods that Italian settlers then filled.

The occupation ended. The Yekatit 12 Monument at Sidist Kilo stands today as architectural testimony. Its bas-reliefs depict bound prisoners, grieving mothers and burning homes. The victims commemorated there are remembered as Ethiopians, not as members of discrete ethnic communities. The fascist bullets, as the historical record makes clear, did not distinguish between Amhara, Oromo, Gurage or Tigrean.

The spatial logic the massacre enabled clearing people from land to create a city for a different and more powerful class of inhabitants, has found new expression in the development model the Dubai analogy celebrates. The 100,000 displaced residents of contemporary Addis Ababa were not killed. They were relocated. But relocation at distance from livelihood is its own form of civic death. Markets disappear. Children travel hours to schools they used to walk to. Social networks built across generations dissolve. The language of development and master planning, deployed today as it was deployed in Italian urban policy documents of the 1930s, does not announce itself as violence. It announces itself as progress.

When Gulf investors purchase luxury residential blocks on the cleared land, and when Oromo political elites celebrate the assertion of Oromo sovereignty over the same city whose poor Oromo residents are among those being cleared, the question of who the Dubai transformation actually serves becomes impossible to avoid.

• VI. What the Three Claims Have in Common

Three distinct claims on Addis Ababa are currently in circulation. Gulf-inflected international capital claims it through investment and the transformation of its skyline into a mirror of Gulf urbanism. Oromo nationalist elites claim it through ethnic sovereignty and historical dispossession. Conservative Ethiopian nationalists claim it through the civic universalism of Menelik’s founding and the multi-ethnic imperial tradition.

Each of these claims, when pushed to its absolute, requires the exclusion of someone else. Gulf capital excludes the poor regardless of ethnicity. Oromo ethnic sovereignty excludes the Amhara grandmother who has lived in Merkato for fifty years, the Gurage trader whose family has been in Kolfe for three generations, the Tigrean civil servant whose children were born in the city. Conservative Ethiopian nationalism, in its less reflective iterations, has historically excluded Oromo cultural identity from legitimate expression in the public sphere.

The lesson of Yekatit 12,  as articulated in both historical scholarship and the ethical reflection that the date demands — is precisely that absolutism in civic ownership destroys cities. The victims of 19 February 1937 were drawn from every community that Addis Ababa contained. The shared trauma of that massacre produced the shared memorial at Sidist Kilo. The date did not belong to one ethnic group. The grief did not sort itself by tribe.

If there is an argument that transcends the current political fragmentation, it is the one contained in the historical behaviour of Menelik himself a man of mixed blood including Oromo ancestry who founded a city and named it New Flower and appeared, whatever his other failings, to intend it as a place where Ethiopians of all origins might dwell. Not perfectly. Not without violence and hierarchy and the injustices of empire. But as Ethiopians, together, rather than as ethnic populations sorted into zones of belonging and exclusion.

Knowing the Date, Reading the City

Each year the Ethiopian calendar turns to Yekatit 12. The date does not demand resentment. It demands remembrance and, more than remembrance, the kind of recognition that sees patterns,  the recurring logic of declaring a plural city the exclusive possession of a single power, whether that power is Italian fascism, Gulf capital, ethnic nationalism or imperial nostalgia.

Addis Ababa is both Finfinne and Addis Ababa. It is Oromo geography and Ethiopian capital. It is local homeland and African diplomatic centre. It was founded by a man of Oromo blood who called it New Flower for all his subjects. It was massacred by fascists who wanted it for Europeans alone. It was rebuilt by Ethiopians of every origin. It is currently being partially remade for Gulf investors and a thin wealthy stratum, at the cost of 100,000 of its poorest residents.

The conservative nationalist who invokes Menelik’s civic universalism is right that the city was never meant to belong to one ethnic group alone and should acknowledge that this universalism came with imperial violence that demands recognition. The Oromo nationalist who invokes historical dispossession at Finfinne is right that land loss is a genuine grievance, and should acknowledge that the man who built the city on that land shared their blood and did not build it for Oromos alone. The Gulf investor who sees the next Dubai should be asked, plainly and on the record: do you know what was cleared to build this? Do you know it is Yekatit 12?

If they all know, if the date is genuinely understood rather than merely observed, then they know that memory is not about the past alone. It is a compass for the future.

That compass, at the moment, is pointing somewhere that the martyrs of Yekatit 12, of every ethnicity who fell together on those three days in February 1937, would not have recognised as the city for which they died.

References

Campbell, I. (2014) The Plot to Kill Graziani. Addis Ababa: Addis Ababa University Press.

Campbell, I. (2017) The Addis Ababa Massacre: Italy’s National Shame. London: Hurst.

Central Statistical Agency (CSA) (2008) 2007 Population and Housing Census of Ethiopia. Addis Ababa: CSA.

Del Boca, A. (1969) Italiani in Africa Orientale. Rome: Laterza.

Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia (1995) Constitution of the FDRE. Addis Ababa.

Human Rights Watch (2016) Such a Brutal Crackdown. New York: HRW.

Labanca, N. (2002) Oltremare: Storia dell’espansione coloniale italiana. Bologna: Il Mulino.

Marcus, H. (1994) A History of Ethiopia. Berkeley: University of California Press.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

About Post Author

Ethiopian Tribune editor

editor@ethiopiantribune.com

https://ethiopiantribune.com

Happy

0 0 %

Sad

0 0 %

Excited

0 0 %

Sleepy

0 0 %

Angry

0 0 %

Surprise

0 0 %

Ethiopia’s economic debate is increasingly shaped not by what appears in the national budget, but by what happens outside it. Across ministries, agencies and development bodies, a growing share of public revenue is now raised through so-called contributions, commissions and special charges that sit beyond the formal tax system. These collections are rarely debated in parliament, seldom time-limited and often weakly linked to measurable outcomes. What began as an emergency practice has, quietly, become a governing habit.

For ordinary Ethiopians, the effects are felt not in policy documents but in daily transactions. Traders speak of new charges appearing without warning. Salaried workers notice deductions they struggle to interpret. Small businesses recount inspections that end with payments rather than guidance. The frustration is not simply about money; it is about uncertainty. When obligations change frequently and explanations are thin, people stop planning for growth and start planning for survival.

Economists warn that uncertainty is among the most damaging forces in any economy. It discourages investment, compresses ambition and raises the cost of risk. In Ethiopia, where private enterprise is already navigating inflation, foreign exchange shortages and weak demand, unpredictable charges act as a further brake. The economy remains active, but its capacity to expand is steadily eroded.

Supporters of these off-budget collections usually advance a familiar defence. Ethiopia, they argue, is under exceptional strain. Debt servicing costs are high, security demands remain pressing and public expectations continue to rise. Formal tax reform is slow and politically sensitive. Contributions, commissions and special levies are therefore presented as pragmatic tools, necessary to keep institutions functioning in difficult times.

At first glance, this logic appears reasonable. Governments everywhere must balance ideals against constraints. Yet the defence begins to weaken when the practice becomes permanent rather than temporary. Emergency measures are meant to bridge gaps, not replace systems. When institutions rely on extraction instead of reform, necessity quietly turns into dependency.

The deeper problem is not revenue collection itself, but the absence of a clear link between payment and value. In public finance, legitimacy depends on reciprocity. Citizens accept taxation when they can see how it supports services, infrastructure and opportunity. When money is collected merely to sustain institutions, without visible improvement in performance, trust declines. Over time, compliance becomes grudging rather than voluntary.

This erosion of trust has tangible economic consequences. Businesses shorten their planning horizons. Entrepreneurs postpone expansion. Capital becomes cautious, then mobile. Skilled workers begin to consider exit options. None of this happens overnight. It unfolds gradually, often unnoticed by policymakers until the damage is well advanced.

Ethiopia is not the first country to face this dilemma. Around the world, states under fiscal pressure have experimented with parafiscal measures, especially during periods of crisis. The outcomes are remarkably consistent. Where extraction became routine, growth slowed, informality expanded and political resistance hardened. Where governments corrected course, recovery followed.

In parts of Latin America, repeated emergency levies introduced during debt crises fragmented tax systems and undermined compliance. Businesses faced overlapping obligations, many poorly defined and inconsistently enforced. Investment retreated, and capital flight accelerated. Fiscal stability returned only after governments simplified revenue systems, restored legislative oversight and rebuilt credibility.

Closer to home, several African economies have encountered similar tensions. Special charges introduced to shore up revenue initially generated income, but over time discouraged formalisation and weakened trust. Where reform-minded governments intervened, the solution was not harsher enforcement but rationalisation. Temporary measures were sunsetted, tax bases widened through growth, and administrative efficiency improved.

East Asia’s experience offers perhaps the clearest contrast. During their periods of rapid development, countries such as South Korea and Taiwan faced immense fiscal demands. Yet they resisted the temptation to extract indiscriminately. Instead, they prioritised productivity, industrial expansion and employment. Revenue followed growth, rather than preceding it. Taxes were transparent, predictable and legislated, even as the state played an active economic role.

The common thread across these cases is not ideology, but discipline. Successful governments maintained clear boundaries between taxation and fees. Anything compulsory passed through law. Institutions were required to justify their budgets through performance, not pressure. Citizens were treated as partners in development, not merely sources of revenue.

In Ethiopia, the expansion of off-budget contributions suggests those boundaries are weakening. Institutions increasingly ask where money can be collected, rather than how value can be created. This shift in mindset has long-term consequences. When survival depends on extraction, reform becomes optional. Inefficiency hardens. Accountability fades.

The human cost of this trajectory is often underestimated. Economic pressure does not need to be dramatic to be decisive. For skilled professionals and entrepreneurs, the calculation is incremental. Each additional charge, each new uncertainty, nudges the balance away from investment and towards exit. The result is a quiet but persistent loss of talent and capital.

None of this implies that Ethiopia lacks patriotism or resilience. On the contrary, citizens have repeatedly demonstrated willingness to endure hardship when it is clearly linked to collective progress. What undermines that willingness is not sacrifice itself, but the sense that sacrifice is being demanded without direction or return.

There is also a political dimension that cannot be ignored. When revenue collection escapes parliamentary scrutiny, democratic accountability weakens. Legislatures exist not merely to approve budgets, but to legitimise extraction by linking it to public purpose. Bypassing that process may seem efficient in the short term, but it carries long-term costs for governance.

Critics of reform often argue that Ethiopia cannot afford restraint. Yet the evidence suggests the opposite. Extraction without growth narrows the future tax base. Growth without extraction expands it. The choice is not between revenue and development, but between short-term relief and long-term viability.

Progressive democratic governments that have faced similar constraints have learned this lesson through experience. They have moved to simplify revenue systems, protect predictability and focus on enabling economic activity. They have accepted that sustainable finance depends on confidence as much as coercion.

For Ethiopia, the path forward does not require abandoning revenue mobilisation. It requires re-anchoring it. Contributions must be exceptional, clearly defined and time-limited. Institutions must be incentivised to improve performance rather than seek payments. Parliament must reclaim its role in legitimising compulsory collections.

Most importantly, economic policy must return to first principles. Wealth is created through productivity, innovation and work. Revenue is a by-product of that process. When the order is reversed, economies strain and societies lose faith.

The debate sparked by recent analysis is therefore not a technical quarrel about fees. It is a question about the kind of state Ethiopia wishes to be. A state that finances itself by expanding opportunity builds resilience. A state that finances itself by constant extraction exhausts it.

History offers ample warning, but also reassurance. Countries that recognise the limits of extraction early can correct course. Those that delay pay far more to recover. Ethiopia remains at a moment of choice.

Whether that choice is taken will shape not only fiscal outcomes, but the relationship between citizens and the state. In the end, no economy grows on pressure alone. Growth rests on trust, clarity and the shared belief that effort leads somewhere worth reaching.

About Post Author

Ethiopian Tribune editor

editor@ethiopiantribune.com

https://ethiopiantribune.com

Happy

0 0 %

Sad

0 0 %

Excited

0 0 %

Sleepy

0 0 %

Angry

0 0 %

Surprise

0 0 %

By E Frashie Ethiopian Tribune Columnist

The spectacle unfolded with predictable diplomatic grace. Ahmed Shide, flanked by technocrats bearing reform credentials, presented Ethiopia’s latest infrastructural dream to Christopher Landau: a New International Airport that would, we are told, cement our nation’s place as the aviation crossroads of Africa. The pitch was delivered with the earnest confidence of a government that believes it has finally learned to speak the language of international finance. One wonders whether Washington was listening, or merely being polite.

Let us be clear: the airport itself is no fantasy. Ethiopian Airlines has become our most undeniable success story, a rare state enterprise that operates not as a patronage vehicle but as a genuine commercial force. Bole International Airport, conceived in a different era, now strains under passenger volumes that have tripled in barely more than a decade. The airline’s ambitions, continental dominance, global connectivity, cannot be realised from an infrastructure choking on its own success. A new airport is not governmental grandstanding; it is commercial logic.

But logic and timing are not always companions. The government presents this proposal at a moment when our macroeconomic foundations resemble less a platform for launch than quicksand requiring constant attention. Inflation persists in double digits despite official assurances of moderation. Our foreign reserves hover perilously around two months of import cover a figure that would alarm any serious economist. The birr continues its choreographed decline, and our Chinese creditors loom large in the fiscal shadows, their patience neither infinite nor unconditional.

So when Minister Ahmed speaks of American finance and engineering expertise, we must recognise this for what it truly is: an attempt to escape a creditor relationship that has grown uncomfortably singular. For two decades, Chinese state enterprises have reshaped our physical landscape, railways, roads, industrial parks, often on terms whose opacity matched their generosity. Now, with Beijing reassessing its global commitments and Ethiopia nursing debt obligations that constrain every budget negotiation, Addis Ababa seeks new partners. The turn to Washington is less conversion than diversification.

The Americans, credit to them, have responded with the diplomatic equivalent of “show us the money.” Landau’s acknowledgment of our reform progress came wrapped in the careful language of private-sector engagement—code for demanding the very things Chinese lenders rarely insisted upon: transparency, enforceable contracts, predictable regulation, political stability. These are not unreasonable requirements. They are, however, uncomfortable ones for a government whose recent history includes civil conflict, internet blackouts, and human rights controversies that have tested Western patience.

The reform narrative our ministers presented is familiar to anyone who has followed multilateral lending discussions: fiscal consolidation, monetary discipline, private-sector-led growth. These phrases roll easily off official tongues, honed through countless meetings with IMF delegations and World Bank missions. But rhetoric and reality maintain an uneasy relationship in Ethiopian political economy. We have announced reforms before. Implementation has proven the harder discipline.

Consider the government’s infrastructure record. The Addis-Djibouti Railway operates, yes, but profitability remains elusive and maintenance costs mount. The Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam stands as both national achievement and cautionary tale years behind schedule, billions over budget, diplomatically toxic. These projects reflect a pattern: ambition announced with fanfare, execution plagued by complications the initial projections somehow failed to anticipate. Why should the airport escape this trajectory?

Yet dismissing the airport as mere governmental overreach would be equally mistaken. Aviation represents one sector where Ethiopia possesses genuine competitive advantage. Ethiopian Airlines contributes approximately three percent of GDP and supports employment networks extending far beyond its direct payroll. The hub-and-spoke model upon which this success depends absolutely requires infrastructure capable of sustaining growth. Without the airport, we risk strangling our most successful enterprise in the cradle of its own expansion.

The question, then, is not whether Ethiopia needs this airport but whether Ethiopia can deliver it. The government has offered no detailed cost projections, no financing structure, no clarity on whether this will be public-private partnership, sovereign loan, or some multilateral arrangement. This absence of specificity is not encouraging. Large infrastructure projects require not only vision but mathematical precision, risk assessment, and honest accounting of what we can afford versus what we aspire to build.

The government’s simultaneous push for banking sector liberalisation and telecommunications reform suggests awareness that credibility requires more than promises. Foreign investors particularly American firms unaccustomed to the patient opacity of Chinese state capitalism will demand evidence of regulatory consistency and judicial independence. They will scrutinise land rights frameworks, labour relations, currency policy, and a dozen other factors that determine whether contracts mean what they claim to mean.

This is where the airport proposal transcends infrastructure and becomes geopolitical theatre. Washington views the Horn of Africa as strategically significant, a region where Chinese influence has grown uncomfortably dominant from the American perspective. Supporting Ethiopian infrastructure allows the United States to deepen economic engagement while promoting its preferred development model: private capital, governance standards, environmental commitments. But American engagement will be conditional, calibrated by risk assessments that weigh Ethiopia’s potential against its instabilities.

For Addis Ababa, the calculation is equally complex. We need Western goodwill for ongoing IMF negotiations and access to concessional finance. We need to demonstrate we are not simply a Chinese client state. But we also need to maintain domestic political control and manage nationalist sensitivities about foreign influence. The airport becomes the stage upon which these contradictions must somehow be reconciled.

The Ethiopian public, meanwhile, observes with practiced scepticism. We have heard grand infrastructure promises before. We have watched costs balloon and timelines extend while benefits concentrate in familiar hands. The government must therefore communicate not merely the vision but the mechanics: Who will build? Who will profit? Who will bear the costs if projections prove optimistic? Transparency is not simply a Western imposition; it is the foundation of public trust in expensive national commitments.

What unfolds here is larger than an airport. It is Ethiopia attempting to rewrite its economic model while managing the geopolitical consequences of past choices. It is a government seeking legitimacy through reform rhetoric while grappling with implementation challenges that rhetoric cannot solve. It is a nation at the intersection of aspiration and constraint, hoping American capital can bridge the gap.

The airport may eventually rise concrete and steel testament to Ethiopian ambition and American partnership. Or it may join the lengthening list of projects whose promise exceeded our capacity for delivery. The difference will be determined not by ministerial presentations in Washington but by the unglamorous work of building institutions, honouring commitments, and managing the distance between what we announce and what we achieve.

For now, the proposal stands as exactly that: a proposal, polished and presented, awaiting the cold arithmetic of feasibility studies and risk assessments. Whether it becomes monument or mirage depends on questions the government has yet to answer publicly. One hopes the enthusiasm for American finance is matched by appetite for American scrutiny.

The challenge, as always, is ours to meet.

 The views expressed in this column are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official position of the Ethiopian Tribune

About Post Author

Ethiopian Tribune editor

editor@ethiopiantribune.com

https://ethiopiantribune.com

Happy

0 0 %

Sad

0 0 %

Excited

0 0 %

Sleepy

0 0 %

Angry

0 0 %

Surprise

0 0 %