Though it may come with risks, it would be in the government’s own interests to encourage open dialogue and constructive criticism.
Credit: Dietmar.
The swearing-in this week of Prime Minster Abiy Ahmed and his promising inaugural speech suggests Ethiopia has its best chance yet to address a political crisis that has been building for decades.
This comes not a moment too soon. Youthful protesters, particularly in Oromiya, are emboldened and angry. Since 2015, security forces have killed more than 1,000 people as the government has shown both frailty and ruthlessness in the face of persistent demonstrations. Without altering its current trajectory, the country would risk a worsening conflict.
Promisingly, the promotion of Abiy looks set to ease unrest and provide space for a rethink. The young leader, still in his early 40s, is the head of the Oromo party in the ruling coalition, the Ethiopian Peoples’ Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF). This grouping, in power since 1991, has made major achievements in nation-building and socioeconomic development. It has done this partly through the Marxist-Leninist concept of “revolutionary democracy“. This has entailed monopolising power across all tiers of government, politicising the civil service, and maintaining a weak judiciary and legislature. It has also involved prioritising material improvements over civil rights, leading to restrictions on the opposition, civil society, and media.
The EPRDF has recorded some impressive achievements in office, but it has also witnessed growing rifts between its four regional parties and a rising crisis of legitimacy. With this now reaching a head, it needs to democratise as promised.
The former rebel movement must shed some of its attachment to secrecy, control, and coercion, and convert itself into an actor in a multi-party system. The EPRDF can maintain its commitments to collective action, minority rights, and state-led development. But it needs to recognise that its vision to transform Ethiopia will not be realised if it continues to exercise complete control and therefore provoke intensifying resistance.
This can be done by borrowing from the liberal democratic playbook without straying into neoliberal territory that is anathema to the EPRDF.
The key ingredient for a new Ethiopia
The key initial ingredient will be encouraging greater freedom of expression within government and throughout society. While many point to the inflammatory dangers of social media in a polarised environment, the need for greater openness trumps such concerns.
This is because more information, reporting, and dialogue are crucial to confronting Ethiopia’s many challenges. Increased scrutiny of the government, for example, would help the EPRDF in its mission of fighting corruption. Tolerance of dissent would act as a pressure valve for opposition sentiments. More openness would encourage expert discussion of Ethiopia’s complex federation and better reporting will illuminate localised grievances. Constructive inquiry could also help detoxify sensitive issues such as the perception of Tigrayan privilege at the expense of more populous nationalities like the Amhara and Oromo.
If the EPRDF wants to signal its seriousness in pursuing change, it could reassure dissidents that they can publicise competing viewpoints without punishment. A line must be drawn under draconian actions that inculcate fear, such as the recent rearrests of critical journalists or the prosecution of the Zone 9 bloggers.
The party-affiliated media could be empowered to investigate issues rather than perform a government public relations service. There is already a promising example of this new possibility in Oromiya, where the regional broadcaster has reported on corrupt lands deals. Newly-empowered national journalists could start by looking into the state-owned Sugar Corporation contracts that are suspected to have been mismanaged by a military enterprise. Only through accountability for those perceived as untouchable can the EPRDF begin cleaning out its stables.
Elements of EPRDF doctrine see private media as the potential tool of capitalist elites. However, the weakness of Ethiopia’s press is a hindrance to progress. The vacuum of reliable information makes space for conspiracy theories to dominate, as they have during the discontent.
The absence of a strong media means a disillusioned public is fed competing narratives by state organs and partisan online activists. Meanwhile, events such as the state repression of Qimant activists demanding greater autonomy or the Konso people’s protests over their loss of self-rule in the south go virtually unreported. Before such fraught challenges can be addressed, facts need to be established.
The mechanics for strengthening the press are a matter for debate, but there is a case to be made for measures such as tax breaks for new outlets. Existing responsible-but-critical media in Addis Ababa provide useful precedents for future development. Western donors who spend more than $3 billion annually can surely find ways to help too without being accused of fomenting a “colour revolution” or contravening former Prime Minister Meles Zenawi’s stipulation that democratisation has to be homegrown. One route could be backing a stalled initiative for an independent press regulator to monitor abuses, such as the anti-Tigrayan hate speech published in 2005.
Levelling the playing field
Some experienced observers have called for a snap election to address Ethiopia’s crisis, but a level playing field does not yet exist. There have been discussions with opposition parties on altering the first-past-the-post system and adjusting repressive legislation, but significant actors did not participate, and the forums were held without EPRDF commitment to systemic change.
Implementing a long-standing call for electoral board autonomy is a prerequisite for meaningful elections, and there is a clear case for refining some catchall provisions of the terrorism law. While such initiatives are hashed out, the EPRDF could give more interviews and publicise more of its deliberations. It is as vital that freedom of expression is enhanced within government as well as wider society.
The backbone of EPRDF rule is an ethnonational federation that accommodated different entities during a fragile transition in the early 1990s. This arrangement, which allows for the secession of groups with shared traits, was made with the historic oppression of minorities by mainly Amharic-speaking highlanders in mind. However, some opponents allege the system was devised by the Tigrayan People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) to divide and rule more populous groups. While that’s a distortion, there are justified concerns that it has led to communities growing apart rather than together, as evidenced by extreme violence between Oromo and Somali factions last year.
Nonetheless, the arrangement suits many groups, including the Oromo, and will remain while the EPRDF is in power. While differences over ethnic federalism and identity politics represent a deep schism, dialogue might soften those fundamental disagreements that poison the national discourse.
On the ground, efforts to bolster national citizenship rights might improve cohesion, while a constitutional court has been mooted to better handle identity claims. A more open government, a less politicised bureaucracy and autonomous institutions would make it harder for elites to mobilise along ethnic lines to claim a greater share of the pot. At the same time, devolving mechanisms such as tax-revenue generation could make regional governments more accountable to their citizens.
In general, a stronger judiciary and more democratic scrutiny would help counter excessive and arbitrary government action and improve the federation’s functioning. In time, language issues, the secession clause, and the system’s ethnolinguistic underpinning might also be discussed. Oromiya has implemented an important measure by removing ethnicity from identity cards, a move that could be replicated. EPRDF tolerance of flags from previous eras would be another worthwhile gesture.
Generally, progress should be possible if critics forward constructive suggestions that deliver autonomy while protecting against further outbreaks of ethnic rivalry.
Decentralising power
Deeper federalism could challenge certain elements of Ethiopia’s Developmental State model, which has relied on centralised policy control and often prioritises national development schemes over local concerns. However, there are in fact few opponents to EPRDF’s approach of protecting strategic industries and investing heavily in infrastructure, often using Chinese loans. If decision-making was decentralised, it is likely that regions would adopt, and increasingly adapt, national strategies. They do this already in many policy areas, notably in Oromiya recently.
As with many problems, calls for the liberalisation of closed economic sectors or privatisation of state-owned enterprises are often treated as zero-sum calculations. In reality, partial steps can be taken without selling out to global capitalism. For example, a telecoms monopoly has extended mobile-data networks nationwide, which is impressive, but given that the service is inadequate and expensive, a degree of rethinking is needed.
Efforts to attract foreign investment into energy have been lacklustre, while the state-controlled fuel supply results in frequent shortages. The financial model protects the economy and crucially allows state banks to provide cheap loans for public enterprises to construct infrastructure. But more needs to be done to promote lending to the private sector. The growth of private businesses will help alleviate mass unemployment and boost a low tax take.
So far, the EPRDF has treated the corporate sector either as a source of cronies or rent-seeking corruption. A relaxation of control will mean a more conducive environment for business to operate and lobby, which could lead to more balanced growth.
At times, the problem has not been state control but failures of implementation when liberalising. This was the case with the bungled introduction of large-scale commercial agriculture or an inadequately administered construction boom. Similar errors can be prevented by more inclusive policy-making and the encouragement of constructive feedback, rather than maintaining the impression that officials who speak out will be branded “anti-development”. To improve outcomes, thorough probes of projects and strategies will reveal which are working and which need work – this again means giving the media and civil society expanded freedoms.
Ethiopia’s economic system is also tied up with its ethnic politics. While power is already shifting from the TPLF, it is crucial this is managed sensitively. Tigrayan leaders see themselves as unjustly blamed for the current ills and note that they spearheaded the defeat of a military junta, protected minority rights, and played a key role in Ethiopia’s celebrated development model. Although imbalances exist, especially in the security apparatus, claims over the dominance of TPLF-affiliated parastatals can be exaggerated, further toxifying the debate. Independent investigation of those companies would probably support the TPLF’s case. In the meantime, it’s beholden on critics to base reporting on evidence and not prejudice.
Opening up for the opposition
If the EPRDF and Abiy build on their pledges, an assertive but responsible response from the opposition will hopefully be forthcoming. To build trust, while they turn their focus to mobilising at the grassroots, opponents should eschew violence, acknowledge government achievements, and denounce the targeting of Tigrayans or any other groups.
Western actors have few cards to play given how the Ethiopian government has diversified its international support and cast itself as irreplaceable. However, if the EPRDF introduces more meritocracy into civil service appointments, maybe donor funds can be utilised to attract more of the brightest Ethiopians into key positions. This has already been tested at institutions like the Ethiopia Commodity Exchange and Agricultural Transformation Agency.
More radically, foreign diplomats should end their virtual silence on political issues. Rather than direct, the West rightly respects and supports government strategies, but it is wrong to not express justified disapproval. To be true partners, donors could show the way in publicly engaging in constructive criticism.
Ethiopia’s crisis is arguably centuries in the making and there’s little chance of it being resolved quickly. However, recent events offer promise. If all sides take conciliatory steps to discover common ground then dangerous grudges may be defused through dialogue.
The first step in this must be the EPRDF encouraging those conversations by increasing the opportunities for freedom of expression. With more groups from within the EPRDF pushing for enhanced democracy than before, and the clamour from outside growing ever louder, perhaps the best hope is that forthcoming struggles are conducted more democratically than they generally have been in Ethiopia’s long history.
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“We are here”: The soundtrack to the Oromo revolution gripping Ethiopia
Far from being a footnote in the Oromo struggle, musicians like Haacaaluu Hundeessa have been its centre of gravity.
Haacaaluu Hundeessa’s music has given sound and voice to the Oromo struggle.
With the appointment of Abiy Ahmed as chair of the ruling coalition, Ethiopia is set to have an Oromo leader for the first time in recent history. This is in no small part thanks to brave and sustained protests by ethnic Oromo youth.
For nearly two and a half years, activists have defied brutal government suppression that has seen over a thousand people killed and tens of thousands arrested. Mostly led by the Oromo and Amhara, who together make up two-thirds of the 100 million population, demonstrators have endured the imposition of two states of emergency and a brutal crackdown.
Now, for their pains, they have overseen the resignation of Prime Minister Hailemariam Desalegn. And they will soon witness the assent of a young and popular Oromo leader as Ethiopia’s next prime minister.
When historians look back at this period, they will see how persistent protesters reconfigured Ethiopia’s political map in just a couple of years. They will note how Oromo politics was forced from the distant periphery to the very centre of affairs. And they will observe how the passionate Oromo youth – known as the Qeerroo – drove this change.
In all this, however, one thing that should not be overlooked is the critical role played by Oromo musicians and artists. Through their work, they have mobilised scattered marginalised publics and helped create a politically conscious, defiant, and resilient generation. They have tapped into the transformative potential of subjugated memories and experiences, disrupted official histories, and altered the people’s very relationship to power.
Oromo music, the struggle’s centre of gravity
Oromo music and concerts have rarely been strictly musical. They have always been sites of political agitation, cultural self-affirmation, and spiritual rejuvenation, drawing together audiences who share an unassailable commitment to the Oromo cause.
Activist stalwarts have provided the conceptual architecture and strategic direction of the struggle. But Oromo artists’ poignant and powerful lyrics have given voice and significance to the group’s insufferable indignation. When their political leaders have failed, artists have given new meaning to the agonies of defeat. When they have prevailed, artists have amplified small victories to inspire whole generations.
Far from being a footnote in the history of the Oromo struggle for freedom and justice, musicians, poets and creators are its centre of gravity – the signature tune and the definitive sound of the Oromo revolution.
“We are here”
Amongst the many Oromo artists to have played a role in recent events, one musician and one performance stands out.
On 10 December 2017, the capital Addis Ababa staged the biggest Oromo concert it had ever seen. It was held to raise humanitarian funds for the over 700,000 Oromos displaced by violence in the east. But the event held a much deeper significance too. It was not only the most symbolic, defiant and spectacular Oromo concert ever broadcast live by Oromia Broadcasting Network (OBN). It also featured an unprecedentedly large number of senior government officials, a sign of the slow but tectonic shift taking root in Ethiopian politics.
In the concert, a diverse cast of artists performed, leading up to the kaleidoscopic set by Haacaaluu Hundeessa. Through 11 minutes of heart-shredding ballads, the young singer delivered a show that was awe-inspiring and painful, honest and complex, impassioned and subtle. Working through themes of marginality, vulnerability and resilience, he articulated the distinct Oromo experience with raw clarity.
Haacaaluu has given sound and voice to the Oromo cause for the past few years. His 2015 track Maalan Jira (“What existence is mine”), for example, was a kind of an ethnographic take on the Oromo’s uncertain and anomalous place within the Ethiopian state. This powerful expression of the group’s precarious existence quietly, yet profoundly, animated a nationwide movement that erupted months later. Maalan Jira became the soundtrack to the revolution.
In October 2017, Haacaaluu released Jirraa (“We are here”). In contrast to his previous more sombre hit, this song was a statement of endurance, resilience, and self-affirmation. It celebrated transformations within the Oromo community and fundamental shifts in Ethiopia’s political landscape. It embodied a newfound collective optimism, a feeling that Oromo culture is no longer in jeopardy, and a sense that the Oromo society is finally in the middle of a robust ascendancy.
“Closer to Arat Kilo”
As many have pointed out, art can have a transformative power that a political debate or summit cannot. In her book Utopia in Performance, for example, American scholar Jill Dolan describes how a performance can have an effect “that lifts everyone slightly above the present, into a hopeful feeling of what the world might be like if every moment of our lives were as emotionally voluminous, generous, [and] aesthetically striking”.
Haacaaluu’s December show did just this. As soon as he occupied the stage, the scene immediately felt magical. His opening greetings – “ashamaa, ashamaa, ashamaa” – electrified an audience who understood his use of the traditional Gerarsa repertoire and its unconscious grammar. As he strode lion-like around the platform, he evoked a rare outpouring of exuberance in his adoring audience. And speaking at a moment in which the Oromo protests had been building momentum for over two years – and, unbeknownst to the crowd, just months before one of their own would become chair of Ethiopia’s ruling coalition – Haacaaluu repeatedly asked the audience Jirtuu (“are we here?”), driving everyone justifiably nuts.
In under a minute, the singer had created what Dolan calls moments of communitas, “resulting in a sudden and deeper insight into the shared process of being in the world.”
As the performance progressed, Haacaaluu escalated tensions, asking the audience how long they would have to wait for freedom. He lamented the absurdity of a marginalised majority, criticised a rigged system, and expressed his yearning for unity, peace, and justice.
In switching between articulations of precarity and resilience, Haacaaluu challenged the audience and the Oromo leadership in the gallery, which included Abiy Ahmed, to make bold moves befitting of the Oromo public and its political posture. He urged his audience to look in the mirror, to focus on themselves, and decolonise their minds. We are, he said, closer to Arat Kilo, Ethiopia’s equivalent of Westminster, both by virtue of geography and demography.
The Oromo People’s Democratic Organisation, the party in the ruling coalition that put Abiy forward, thankfully followed Haacaaluu’s advice. After PM Desalegn announced his resignation, it fought tooth and nail to secure the position of the Prime Minister. After Abiy’s imminent confirmation, the first chapter of a journey for which Haacaaluu has provided the soundtrack will be complete.
The 41-year-old Abiy will be taking over at a highly fractious and uncertain time. He will continue to face immense resistance from the deep state and the security forces that stand to lose from democratic opening. In confronting these challenges, he should remember the deeper meaning and significance of Haacaluu’s lyrics and monumental performance.
