By Donald N. Levine
November 2006. One year later. One year since the breakdown of summit talks between GOE and CUD leaders. One year since the call for another round of nonviolent protests, which triggered rounds of indiscriminate killings. One year since the Government arrested more than a hundred Ethiopian critics and charged them with crimes punishable by death in a trial marred by unfair procedures and inexcusable delays. One year since the Government called for an investigation into the killings that has resulted in defections of two high-ranking judges and a report that identifies no particular wrongdoers.
One year, in which 50% of Ethiopia’s children continue to live in diagnostic levels of serious malnutrition; tens of thousands died of AIDS; more than one thousand Ethiopians perished from floods due in part to environmental degradation, floods which left another 280,000 homeless. And the misery grinds on.
It was a year in which Ethiopian Americans organized effectively to launch a controversial bill designed to promote democratization efforts, thereby provoking the Government of Ethiopia to fight back by spending a huge amount on lobbyists. What all those resources diverted to American legislative processes might have done for Ethiopian relief and, yes, Ethiopia’s own democratic processes! (Indeed, what good might have been done if all Diaspora Ethiopians had also made a serious contribution to improve life at home in an area like medicine, engineering, education, IT, or water resources?)
The public processes needed for Ethiopia’s democratization are what I sought to advance during the past year when I attempted, through a series of short statements posted at www.eineps.org/forum and elsewhere, to enhance communication among Ethiopians. To be sure, at times this meant I became no more than a ferinji target for both sides to vent against. Each time I credited the Government with something, certain opposition elements accused me of having been bought out by an unscrupulous regime; each time I credited the opposition with something, some Government apologists accused me of having been brainwashed by revanchist Diaspora extremists.
One critical reader in Sweden, after following my suggestion to re-read what I had written, changed his mind:
Selam lersiwo Yihon, Professor!
I have read the material you sent to me and I understand more what this is about. Your view is very balanced and may not be accepted by those who own the only “truth”.
Some respondents who were disappointed with certain of my points encouraged this effort nonetheless, as did Marta Tesfaye:
I beg you to forgive those who have not given you the benefit of the doubt and continue to stand up for Ethiopia/ As you yourself said we have a long way to go before we start learning how to treat each other with respect even when we disagree. But try to do your best and I know I am asking for a lot, their discouragement and the misunderstanding get in the way. As you know the situation is getting worse and even more polarized and we need your help.
And once in a while, my efforts elicited comments such as this from Yohannes Abebe:
Thank you for your courageous efforts to start an honest intellectual debate about the current Ethiopian political crisis. You have no idea the level of impact you are having with my generation.
Whether or not that is so–of course I hope it is–I attempted in each Getz to present “both sides” (as though there are only two; sadly, that’s how the game is being played as of now). It was an effort to let each side see that its position could be understood while at the same time inviting it to consider the perspective of the other.
Getz #1 encouraged the Government to become less repressive toward the media and encouraged journalists to develop more professionalism and integrity in their reporting. A visit to Kaliti Prison occasioned a portrayal of contrasting viewpoints in Getz #2, with a call for “room for dissent, protected by just laws and civil institutions, as well as a willingness to fight nonviolently for divergent views even when in a disadvantaged minority.”
“Two Tales of One City,” Getz #3, sketched seemingly incompatible narratives about Ethiopia’s history that underlie surface resentments in the present. Getz #5 essayed an overview of political developments in Ethiopia since the May 2005 election, listing both achievements and mistakes made by the EPRDF regime, the opposition parties, and the EU observers.
The other Getzotch moved beyond this monopolization of public discourse by the non-stop antagonism between EPRDF and CUD advocates. “What Happened in the Past 12 Months?” simply drew attention to a number of other, neglected happenings. Getz #6, “More People More Hunger” focused on the looming catastrophe posed by Ethiopia’s unchecked demographic explosion. Drawing on the pioneering work of Professor Mesfin Wolde Mariam, Daniel Assefa, and Sahlu Haile, I showed that spiraling population growth figures in a vicious cycle including smaller farming plots, deforestation, soil despoliation, chronic hunger, and widespread malnutrition. In Getzotch 7, 8, and 9, which concerned Tigrayawinet, Oromo options, and Beta Israelis, respectively, I dealt with issues of ethnic separatism, arguing that although different groups may have distinct interests and agendas, the historic reality of a successfully multiethnic nation needs to be respected.
In the wake of all these purportedly even-handed interpretations, one of my readers wrote:
You have done an excellent job representing the different sides empathetically. But you have not told us what can be done to move beyond the current impasse.
Perhaps not explicitly enough. But a number of Ethiopians have done so, eloquently.
Consider Professor Alemayehu Mariam’s astute analysis of the principles and dynamics of nonviolent political action.
Consider Ambassador Samuel Assefa, who urges Ethiopians of all persuasions to meet together in small groups to begin to talk to one another openly, honestly, and respectfully.
Consider Ato Michael Aman Andom’s remark regarding my efforts to bring such groups of Ethiopians of diverse perspectives together: “It’s good to hear anytime fellow Ethiopians can gather and communicate effectively. . . . It’s positive whenever we can make such progress because it’s a precedent nonetheless and his conviction, despite all, that “there are open-minded folks who are tempered with pragmatism, understand the modern economic world and how it functions, have respect for the opinions of others, are not quick to judgment, not hot-tempered, know how to lose battles and win wars, respect rule of law, and have a fundamental and profound respect for human life and empathy and desire to cure the Ethiopian people’s plight.”
Or listen to Dr. BT Costantinos, longtime advocate of Ethiopian Think Tanks to provide nonpartisan, professional investigations into the problems of Ethiopia’s development, who commends “innovative political partnerships . . . to marshal our knowledge to play a constructive role in the renaissance of our politico-cultural make-up, values and institutions.”
Listen to the appeals of Ato Abate Kassa, Dr. Berhanu Abegaz, and other signatories of the Citizens’ Charter for a Democratic Ethiopia, who “call on political parties (including the TPLF/EPRDF) and civic organizations to hold back on their sectarian concerns and instead focus on a common agenda” — one that “embraces the diverse Ethiopian family and aims at expanding the political space for exercising those human, civic, and political freedoms that are enshrined in international conventions.”
Consider the spirit behind the proposal of Ambassador Imru Zeleke to convene an all-inclusive Conference to which all civic organization and political parties will be invited to discuss all issues regarding Ethiopia: “our diversity is our heritage and our wealth, and the emblem of our civilization, of which we are all proud.”
What impedes adherence to such evidently constructive visions?
Forty years ago, in Wax and Gold and related statements, when I hoped for a concerted effort by modernizers to form groups devoted to professional development, political democracy, and cultural inclusiveness, I identified a few factors from the traditional culture that impeded such an advance: narrow individualism, verbal sadism, chronic suspiciousness, and circumlocuitous communication (wax and gold). Many Ethiopians agreed with this diagnosis, most recently Dessalegn Shiferaw who, in a round-up of a dozen related traits such as sem matfat (character assassination), teretaray (chronic mistrust), getterenet (stubbornness and lack of compromise), meqeyem (holding grudges) and the like declared it “time to declare war on dysfunctional behaviors”
At the same time I encouraged Ethiopians to respect and draw on factors from traditional culture that could energize the quest for democracy and national development. These include a time-honored passion for fairness and justice, and a deep pride in their nation and its independence that transcends narrow local interests. They also include an exceptional capacity for compassion and forgiveness, manifest in such customs as those concerning illness and death of close ones, stories like those of Mariam forgiving the cannibal of Khmer, and traditions of political forgiveness following the defeat of enemies. They include the remarkable ways in which Oromo gumi gayo assemblies are organized to promote respectful deliberation and achieve their constant goal of peace, nagaa. Indeed, all of the cultures of traditional Ethiopia have admirable mechanisms of conflict resolution. Ethiopia’s positive factors include the distinctive way in which followers of different religions, despite obvious tensions, got along remarkably well together, sharing holiday celebrations, going on pilgrimages together, and intermarrying. Ethiopians’ realism about the limits of human nature can serve to curb the excessive ambitions of modernization ideologies, their ability to show humor in adversity can cushion the inevitable bumps on the roads to modernity.
Indeed, all Ethiopians deep down have more that links them together than what pushes them apart. I suggested this in Greater Ethiopia in 1974; I sense it more strongly than ever now. I wish all my readers could have shared the experience of talking to the prisoners at Kaliti in the same week that I talked to those responsible for detaining them. I have never heard such similarly eloquent professions of faith in the destiny of Ethiopia and in the vision of a multiethnic country whose citizens were guided by the rule of a common set of laws. This deep commonality of sentiment should be sufficient to prod partisans to step back briefly from their emotionally-driven mindsets, even if the country were not facing troubles from unstable and hostile neighbors.
If there were one single commitment that could sweep the archaic dysfunctional habits away, it might be to enact an Ethiopian variant of the Japanese example depicted in Eiko Ikegami’s book The Taming of the Samurai (1995): to effect a change in the warrior ethic, thereby uniting the courage, hardiness, and social commitments of the old-style gwebez warrior with the values of compassion and justice. The New Warrior employs the tools of nonviolence to destroy the enemy completely–by turning him into a friend. All concerned must practice ways to embody constructive disagreement. Many Ethiopians have taken steps to promote civility in public discourse and nonviolence as a way of life, including the Ethiopian Institute for Nonviolent Education and Peace Studies, research on civility such as Yodit Zenebe Mekuria’s study on civic education in the Somali province, Makeda Tsegaye’s studies with the University for Peace Network, the nonviolence education programs of the Awassa Youth Campus, Mercy Corps’s work in conflict resolution, the UN-supported Ethiopian Peace and Development Institute, and many others.
Troubles internal and external require Ethiopia to rise to new levels of societal health, yet the political crisis of the past year grows like a cancer on the Ethiopian body politic. The crisis can be resolved even if only one of the two parties musters the courage to do the right thing.
The challenge is clear. For the Government, it means to acknowledge its Election-related mistakes: to apologize and make amends for its over-reactions that resulted in excessive killings and imprisonments, for starters; to commit itself more publicly and aggressively to actions that implement reforms of the judicial system, the press legislation, and the human rights record; and to bring the trial to a prompt conclusion. This would show the world how far they have come since harboring the hardcore revolutionary doctrines with which they took power in 1991. For the CUD leadership, it means to acknowledge the mistake they made in not taking over the task they were elected by the people to perform–to administer the capital city and to represent all their constituents in Parliament–thereby provoking protests that led to so many unnecessary deaths. This would show a willingness to acknowledge those changes and manifest a loosening of the hardened images of the other side, which undergird their antipathy to the “system.” It will probably require at least as much courage to take such stands as Ethiopian warriors showed in fighting the Italian armies at Adwa and as underground arbeññotch during the talat gize.
Ferinjis have played a constructive role in Ethiopia’s modernizing developments over the past century, but they have exacerbated domestic tensions as well. In any case, the issues at hand can be resolved only by Ethiopians themselves. The inner strengths and quest for national self-determination represented by the spirit of Adwa can be recovered and fortified. My counsel to Ethiopians is not to depend on ferinji governments and institutions to save the situation. To move toward a national effort to promote democratic institutions and economic development, the motto should be: Simuññ y’agare lijjotch Yihé neger ye-ityopiawiyan new!