A Conversation in Three Acts

By Ms. Leeshan Kuratey
Investigative Journalist, Writer, and Poet

Prologue: The Satirist as Scholar

Before we enter the café, before the Ethiopian coffee is poured and the conversation ignites, we must acknowledge the architect of our lens: Sacha Baron Cohen.

Baron Cohen is no mere comedian. A graduate of Christ’s College, Cambridge, where he read History, he is a student of power, prejudice, and performance. His thesis explored the role of Jewish involvement in the American Civil Rights Movement a scholarly inquiry into solidarity, oppression, and identity. This intellectual foundation informs every character he creates. Borat is not simply vulgar; he is a mirror held up to Western liberalism, exposing its conditional tolerance. General Aladeen is not merely absurd; he is a composite sketch of authoritarian vanity, drawn from Gaddafi, Saddam, and a dozen other dictators who confused statecraft with theatre.

Baron Cohen’s genius lies in satirical anthropology. He does not mock from a distance; he embeds himself, hugs his subjects, kisses their cheeks, and watches them reveal their prejudices, their discomfort, their complicity. His characters are traps, disarming, ridiculous, invasive, designed to make the powerful forget the camera is rolling.

It is through this lens, educated, sharp, unforgiving, that we now turn to Abiy Ahmed Ali: Nobel laureate, PhD holder, former intelligence officer, moderniser of Addis Ababa, and practitioner of what we might call tactile diplomacy. If Baron Cohen’s satire is a scalpel, let us use it to dissect Ethiopia’s most visible, most photogenic, most polarising leader.

Act I: The Setting

A London café, the kind where Ethiopian intellectuals meet European analysts and the coffee costs more than it should. Two figures sit across from one another: a historian and a political satirist. They are soon joined by a third voice an Ethiopian-Canadian woman, in town for a diaspora conference, her suitcase still by the door.

The subject: Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed.

But they will not analyse him through the usual frameworks of political science or diplomatic protocol. Instead, they choose satire as their scalpel, and Sacha Baron Cohen as their guide. Specifically, they invoke two of his most iconic creations: Borat Sagdiyev, the hugger and personal-space invader from Kazakhstan, and General Aladeen, the dictator of Wadiya, who confused his nation with his wardrobe.

The question they pose: Is Abiy Borat, disarming the world with intimacy? Or is he Aladeen, staging Ethiopia as his personal theatre?

Or, most disturbingly, is he both?

Act II: The Hugger

Historian:
“Let us begin with the hugs. Abiy’s embrace of Prime Minister Modi in Addis, the hand-holding, the arm around the shoulder, the guided palace tours, it is profoundly Borat-esque. Not in crudeness, but in deliberate invasion of personal space. Borat hugs to unsettle, to expose. Abiy hugs to disarm, to project intimacy where protocol demands distance. It is theatre, and theatre, as we know, is politics.”

Satirist:
“Precisely. Baron Cohen’s characters, Borat, Brüno, operate by compressing social distance. They sniff, kiss, embrace, and force their subjects into positions of awkward complicity. The subject must either recoil, revealing prejudice, or reciprocate, revealing desperation. Abiy’s hugs function similarly. They collapse diplomatic formality. The photograph becomes the policy. The hug is the communiqué. It is absurd, yes, but absurdity is devastatingly effective in the age of images.”

Historian:
“Yet there is risk. In diplomacy, intimacy can be misread. What is intended as warmth may be perceived as subservience or worse, as brown-nosing. Protocol exists precisely to prevent such misinterpretation. Abiy weaponises protocol by shattering it: he drives Modi himself, hosts impromptu coffee ceremonies in the palace courtyard, clasps hands in front of cameras. It is charming, undoubtedly. But charm in diplomacy is also dangerous. It personalises what should remain institutional.”

Satirist:
“And yet, Baron Cohen would argue that breaking protocol is the point. Borat’s handshake that lingers too long, his kiss that lands too close to the lips, these are not accidents. They are designed to make the powerful forget themselves, to reveal their discomfort or their complicity. Abiy’s hugs may serve the same function: they make Modi, and the world, forget the script. In that moment of disarmed intimacy, Ethiopia is no longer a supplicant. It is a host, a friend, an equal.”

Act III: The Dictator

Satirist:
“Now let us turn to the other Baron Cohen archetype: General Aladeen. The palace receptions, the choreographed museum tours, the curated optics of Abiy as host, chauffeur, tour guide, these are Aladeen-esque. The leader is not merely head of government; he is the embodiment of the nation. He does not delegate; he performs. Every handshake is a headline. Every photograph is a policy document.”

Historian:
“Exactly. Recall Aladeen’s UN speech, where he ‘praises’ dictatorship by listing freedoms Americans take for granted, the freedom to be spied upon, the freedom to be exploited by corporations. It is satire, and the audience laughs. But Abiy’s palace pomp is not satire. It risks becoming parody. When the leader monopolises every frame, when every state visit is choreographed around his personal charisma, the line between authority and vanity blurs dangerously.”

Satirist:
“Yet we must admit: it works. The images of Abiy and Modi hugging, holding hands, touring the new Addis parks and science museums, they project Ethiopia as hospitable, modern, confident. They reset the international narrative from ‘conflict-ridden Horn of Africa’ to ‘dynamic emerging economy.’ In that sense, Abiy is both Borat and Aladeen: intimacy and grandeur, disarmament and spectacle, hug and throne.”

Act IV: The Diaspora Voice

Ethiopian-Canadian Woman:
“Gentlemen, if I may, you speak of hugs and pomp as though they exist in a vacuum. But they do not. Abiy has built roads, parks, museums. He has modernised Addis, created jobs, invested in science and technology. For the diaspora, these are not ‘optics.’ They are tangible. We see progress. We see a leader unafraid to embrace the world, literally and figuratively. Your satire is clever, but it risks dismissing achievement as mere performance.”

Historian:
“A fair point. Yet progress must be weighed against suppression, censorship, the centralisation of power. The hug may build rapport, but it cannot substitute for policy. Nor can it erase the concerns of those who see authoritarian tendencies beneath the charm.”

Satirist:
“And yet, as Borat would say: ‘Great success!’ The optics do matter. The diaspora sees the parks, the museums, the jobs. The international community sees the hugs, the handshakes, the palace pomp. Both are narratives, and in the 21st century, narratives are power. Abiy understands this. Whether you call it diplomacy or influencer marketing, the man has mastered the medium.”

Act V: The Segette Phenomenon

Historian:
“Let us introduce a third voice: Adonay, the Ethiopian TikToker, and his viral concept of ሰግጥ Segette, the exaggerated gesture, the performative dance, the clip designed for maximum diaspora consumption. Abiy’s hugs are Segette ሰግጥ. They are diplomacy as TikTok: designed for virality, for screenshots, for WhatsApp forwards among Ethiopians in Dubai, Toronto, and Washington.”

Satirist:
“Indeed. Segette ሰግጥ-ፈምስ is the Boratisation of diplomacy. It is the deliberate exaggeration of intimacy, the parody of protocol, the weaponisation of optics. Abiy is not merely hugging Modi; he is creating content. The hug is a TikTok clip. The palace pomp is an Instagram reel. The car ride through Addis is a YouTube vlog. It is diplomacy as influencer marketing, and it is devastatingly effective.”

Ethiopian-Canadian Woman:
“And why shouldn’t it be? If the world consumes politics through clips and memes, then let Ethiopia play the game. Abiy’s hugs are not brown-nosing; they are branding. They are Ethiopia’s entry into the global marketplace of images. And in that marketplace, visibility is power.”

Act VI: Costs and Benefits

Historian:
“Let us assess. The benefits: warmth, visibility, narrative reset, diaspora pride, international engagement. The costs: misinterpretation, protocol breach, security risk, accusations of vanity or subservience. The balance is delicate. Too much Borat, and one becomes absurd. Too much Dictator, and one becomes oppressive. The art lies in calibration.”

Satirist:
“Exactly. Borat disarms. Dictator commands. Abiy must calibrate between the two. Hug enough to humanise, stage enough to centralise. The danger is in excess. Brown-nosing is the accusation when intimacy outruns substance. Vanity is the accusation when pomp outruns policy.”

Ethiopian-Canadian Woman:
“But substance does exist. The jobs, the projects, the infrastructure , they are real. The optics amplify the substance. Without optics, substance is ignored. Without substance, optics are hollow. Abiy provides both. That, gentlemen, is his achievement.”

Act VII: The Verdict

Historian:
“So, is Abiy Borat or Baron Cohen? Dictator or democrat? Hugger or statesman?”

Satirist:
“He is all of them. He is Borat in intimacy, Aladeen in pomp, Baron Cohen in intellect , a Cambridge-trained satirist would recognise the performance for what it is. Abiy weaponises protocol, sometimes brilliantly, sometimes recklessly. He is theatre, and theatre, we must remember, is politics.”

Ethiopian-Canadian Woman:
“And he is a builder. A moderniser. A leader who has given the diaspora something to point to with pride. The hugs are not invasions; they are embraces. The pomp is not vanity; it is national projection. If you see only parody, you miss the substance beneath.”

Act VIII: The Spectator’s Reflection

The café empties. The Ethiopian-Canadian woman catches her flight. The historian and satirist linger over cold coffee.

Abiy Ahmed remains a paradox: Nobel laureate and former spymaster, hugger and centraliser, Borat and Aladeen. His diplomacy is intimacy and spectacle. His politics are theatre and substance.

The satire is educative: it reveals how protocol can be weaponised, despised, misused, or transcended. The analysis is political: it weighs costs against benefits. The reflection is realistic: it acknowledges both progress and peril.

In the end, Abiy is not merely a Prime Minister. He is a performer on the global stage, playing roles scripted by history, satire, and social media. Whether the world laughs, applauds, or recoils depends not only on his performance , but on whether we, the audience, are willing to see beyond the hug.

Sacha Baron Cohen once said: “Borat essentially works as a tool. The tool is to bring out the prejudices in people.” Perhaps Abiy Ahmed works as a similar tool, not to expose prejudice, but to expose assumption. The assumption that African leaders cannot be modern. The assumption that diplomacy must be cold. The assumption that intimacy equals weakness.

Whether that makes him Borat, Aladeen, or something entirely new — that, dear reader, is for history to decide.

Disclaimer

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, Ms. Leeshan Kuratey, and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of any publication, organisation, or institution. This piece is a work of satirical and political commentary, intended to provoke thought and dialogue regarding contemporary Ethiopian politics and diplomacy. Any characterizations of individuals or events are presented through the lens of satire and analytical critique. References to Sacha Baron Cohen’s characters are used as literary and analytical devices and are not intended to diminish or misrepresent the achievements or policies of any individual mentioned. Readers are encouraged to engage critically with the content and form their own informed opinions.

About Post Author

Ethiopian Tribune editor

editor@ethiopiantribune.com

https://ethiopiantribune.com

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