By Samuel W. Yohannes
Power and Legitimacy
One of the main issues that were never addressed properly is the legitimacy of government power in Ethiopia. This article attempts to clear the confusions that have arisen around this fundamental issue throughout our history, and explore means for instituting a legitimate power in Ethiopia.
God: The Basis of Ethiopian Monarchy
Like in most monarchies, the kings and queens of Ethiopia never questioned the divine origin of their power: they were the elects of God (Seyoome E’gziabher) chosen to guide their people. In fact they were the gift of God to the people and they were to be accepted as such by the people. Evidently, contractual presupposition between monarch and people were excluded beforehand: as elects of God, monarchs were above the people, they did not receive their titles from the people; monarch and people were on different levels. The people were subjects and as such they had no word in their governance. The monarchs commanded, directed, ruled and willed; the people obeyed, were led, administered and ruled. On such vertical premises, there was no theoretical foundation to challenge the monarchs’ basis for power. They had every right to feel entitled to their post and there was no reason for them to abandon it. The question here is, can a power instituted on such premises be considered legitimate? The monarch is ever free to feel entitled to his position, but can he claim legitimacy by referring to the divine origin of his post?
First of all, in order to make the above position plausible, one has to believe unreservedly in the existence of God, then accept that He chose this particular individual for the post. We may quickly say that such endeavors are quite impossible to achieve in a state such as modern Ethiopia where so many religions and so many creeds coexist, not to mention so many ethnic groups. It was, and would have remained an impossible tenet to uphold for much longer, let alone to perpetuate.
But monarchy might want to save itself by referring to the famed three thousands years of succession. But can succession legitimize such institution? Is inheritance a sufficient reason for legitimacy?
Even if the succession in those three thousand years was as smooth as any monarchy would have loved to picture it, it is by no means a legitimizing force in itself. Actually by referring to succession, one is only removing the problem in time. The question requires a philosophical solution, not a historical one. When legitimizing his power, the first Ethiopian monarch would have been in the same position as the very last one.
Again monarchists may base legitimacy of monarchy on expediency, saying it appears the only form of government that has existed for the longest period and the most suited to many nations. It must, therefore, be natural to legitimize it. We may reply that expediency is no basis for legitimacy. Monarchists and traditionalists alike should perceive monarchy like any other form of government, and as such proposable to public approval. They would make an incalculable mistake if they try to re-introduce it in its original theocratic mold.
The Military Power
When in 1974 the military took over, it was seen as an inevitable outcome. In fact, the military being the only organized body capable of maintaining order, was seen as the natural inheritor of state power. The opposition had no consistency and every bit fractious; the best it could have hoped for was to share limited position of influence.
In the euphoric and confusing years that followed, very few asked about the legitimacy of the revolutionary council’s power. The most enlightened individuals of the day demanded insistently that the new government should hand over power to civilians. The process by which such transfer should take place was never understood clearly and uniformly. To some, it simply meant handing over administrative power to the few well known revolutionaries of the left. To others, it meant selecting the most experienced and upstanding administrators of the previous government and having them collaborate with new members in shaping a more modern state. What many did not realize was that the country had to be restructured from bottom up.
The military did not wast time to exploit such confusion. Since the country had no clear road to follow, the military felt it had a mission to accomplish. Given the precarious condition of the region and of the country in particular, and given its effectiveness to enforce its own decrees, and supposedly avoid fragmentation and civil war, the military felt more than entitled to consolidate its power. It continued to define its government as provisional for over ten years until it finally decided to make it permanent by simply changing nomenclature.
Can any organized power, that happens to fill the power vacuum left by a previous administration, claim legitimacy on the basis of presumed effectiveness in maintaining order?
Even if it has not defined its real intentions in such terms, the military acted on such premises. Instead of engaging itself to offer the people an appropriate climate to organize universal political consensus, it systematically destroyed all forces that questioned and threatened its power in the name of stability and order. We may even venture to say that it exacerbated some of the main national problems in order to preserve and justify it wielding of power.
Like all power instituted through the wish of those at the helm, the military could have claimed legitimacy. The Derg was the creation of the moment by a very restricted group of people totally detached from the majority of the population. It is no wonder that it developed into such a monstrous machinery: it understood its effectiveness in imposing its will and making the people comply as the ultimate ground for legitimizing its power. Even if the military had been effective in solving all the major problems of the country, and successful in directing it on the way to prosperity, it would have continued to be an illegitimate power. There should not be any mistake in our perception: the military is not an illegitimate power because it failed miserably, but because it never had a popular mandate to continue in the position of power. The most noble thing it could have done for the country was to step down after making possible the creation of a popular civilian power structure. It appears that the military lost its historic chance to do so.
Mengistu’s Power
No one was so naive to believe that the military was going to fulfill its promises; and no one had the illusion about the true ambitions of the main figures at the top. During the turbulent years that followed Haile Selassie’s fall, few men as Mengistu must have felt that history had chosen them to determine the course of the country. Future historian might eviscerate the psychology of this man, but it is intuitively perceived that he must have considered himself “the man of the hour,” a kind of “elect of destiny.” Surely a man that literally came from nowhere; that inspired only contempt in his past, to wield in his hands the future of the country must have given him a sense of mission; and consequently of entitlement to his position. Can we call destiny a good reason to legitimize such kind of power? History may provide us with illustrious examples of men who, out of nothing, rose to supreme power, but does it mean that achieving power constitutes its own ground for legitimacy?
Believing that history has its own designs, or that destiny plays a part in selecting individuals for certain roles amounts to believing to some kind of secular religion. Thuc, we may treat the matter much the same way we did with monarchy: No one knows the laws of history, and we have no reason to believe that there is such a thing as destiny. And it is unfounded to base legitimacy to govern on such pure assumption. We should, on the contrary, ask ourselves if it is destiny that multitudes should suffer or die at the hands of its chosen one? It is far more “meaningful” to accept natural disaster than to let destruction take place at the hand of a supposed elect of destiny. Even if the chosen one were to produce much good for humanity, his power would be an imposition.
Mengistu was no usurper of legitimate power, since there was no legitimacy before him; nor has he legitimized his position through popular consent. He should not have deceived himself into believing that he was elected by some mysterious force. He is only a specimen of that anomalous species that pure chance installed in a position of power without giving him the intelligence to govern, blinding him to all human suffering.
The Seat of Legitimacy
One may appeal to the long line of succession of kings and queens, one may appeal to revered customs and uses, one may simply and instinctively grab power and hold to it as the ultimate prize; one may claim it in the name of Equality and Fraternity and Superior Reason; but at the stage of self-knowledge humans have arrived in these closing years of the century and millennium, the only power or authority that can justify and legitimize itself is the one willed by the people. No erudite traditionalist, no military strongman, no enlightened intellectual should have the illusion to thwart this fundamental principle. All legitimate power begins with the people!
It cannot be gainsaid that human history has known very few societies in which power was legitimized by the people as a majority. It is true much of the known human history was dominated by forms of government that did not even remotely resemble modern democracies. The history we learn talks more of people that were ruled, led, governed, punished and even massacred; but little that they chose, voted or instituted. Should this be taken to signify that people are better off reverting to more established forms of government? And, since legitimacy based on popular will is a recent phenomenon, the result of a long and uncertain evolution, wouldn’t it be more reasonable and more justifiable to simply follow the traditions on one’s own culture what ever that may be?
What traditionalists should know is that certain principles transcend race, culture and even history. Legitimacy or power through popular will is one of them. If we agree that no one wants to be led without being consulted; that it is instinctive for all human associations to abide by the majority’s will when several alternatives arise; that most often persuasion is the preferred method over coercion; that people long to be heard and not ignored; then it seems reasonable to affirm that popular will has always been, even though not recognized as such, a principle that human beings have cherished and will always cherish.
A group of people led by the theory that they are chosen by the laws of history to be vanguards of the oppressed would no doubt feel entitled to fill the power vacuum they have made possible through their incessant struggle. Fatalists may welcome as God’s will any personality that succeeds in securing power. But no one should be allowed to remain in power without the consent of the people.
What should we do?
In the past few weeks we have seen changes that we haven’t witnessed in almost seventeen years (changes perhaps more significant for Ethiopia’s future than the ones we lived through in the years 1974-75): the political demise and ignominious flight of interim government which will long be remembered more for allowing Israel to carry out swiftly the airlift of more than 14,000 Ethiopian Jews than its unleveraged peace talks in London; the complete disarray of a military machine once known in Africa for its gargantuan size and weaponry; the takeover of Addis Ababa by the guerrilla forces which, so far, have acted with much restraint and self control. Events all, though linked in close succession, have each a great historical significance worth taking into consideration. They are indeed bound to become memorable reminders for the future leaders of Ethiopia.
The coalition power in Addis Ababa will not form a government until July this year; but its observers are still besieged by questions and dilemmas: who are going to be the members of the provisional government? Can the coalition power afford to or should it exclude opposition or non-coalition groups from the projected government? What would it be its criteria or motives for excluding other political entities? The coalition forces, through their representatives, have made a quasi-pledge to follow democratic guidelines in matters of government, but can we be sure that they have completely abandoned their ideological stance? Is it a strategic move on their part, or a genuine act of new converts? a marriage of convenience? After all, we are well aware of the teachings of Marxism-Leninism and Maoism on this particular issue not to continue doubting. Whatever the outcome, the present forces and their projected government have until election, which by the way should be given an exact date, to show their true mettle.
Most of us have been troubled and concerned about the future of Ethiopia in the hands of a coalition power that had shifting ambitions and ideological posture; but this should not in any way lead us to linger to some of the remnants of the recently defunct regime, who, except for every exiguous exceptions are responsible of some criminal act. Not only have they lost all credibility to govern, but they have been part of a system that can only be described as criminal. They have once been part of a government that ignored its provisionality in the name of national security; that had lent deaf ear to the many voices that asked for a new free Ethiopia; committed the most heinous crime against a whole generation of young citizens and decreed laws unwarranted by the people; acted in the most cynical manner by calling its own version of perestroika as though people can be commanded to simply forget the suffering and death of their loved ones just because the regime needed to redeem itself, thus also showing blatantly its ultimate contempt for a people known for its fierce pride. What they had considered a clever move to extricate themselves from the political impasse should be equally considered a condemnable historical act.
The remnants of Mengistu’s regime should not be allowed to negotiate their way with impunity. We have suffered too much and cannot afford to risk history repeating itself. Whatever the cost, whatever the emotional burden, we should have those responsible for the many crimes committed against the people, stand trial in the tribunal of law. It might be our best chance for a national catharsis, and the beginning of a new Ethiopia. This evidently required a high level of stability: we are unlikely to achieve the proper atmosphere for this, with new factions beginning to emerge, and the guns resuming to pound.
Powers and Duties of a Provisional Government
In order to execute daily affairs of government, and of administration, and to preserve law and order for the normal functioning of the state, the provisional government should be given effective powers. However, it should be within the people’s power and not in the provisional government’s to call to trial all those members of the previous administration known to have committed crimes against citizens. The provisional government may provide temporary detention of those indicted until a new constitution, new laws and a new government are installed. Attempting to do otherwise would lead us to the same errors committed by the former regime after the fall of Haile Selassie.
The primary task of a provisional government should be the organization of a Constituent Assembly. The Constituent Assembly, to gain credibility and effectiveness should, represent all citizens from all walks of life: all ethnic groups, all classes and sectors of labor should be present in it. The provisional government would best serve the people by allowing them to use existing infrastructures, and re- modeling them if necessary, to conduct the election of the members of the Constituent Assembly.
Once the constituent Assembly is formed, it will proceed to select a committee of citizens known for its working knowledge of laws, integrity and political insight to draft the very essential constitutional laws. To fulfill its task the committee may be aided by groups of scholars of constitutional law. The initiative for constitutional laws, however, should not exclusively derive from the drafting committee: the Assembly as a whole may share the task or the prerogative. And although this might cause a longer process in the creation of laws, it has the benefit of assuring the exploration of all issues that are at the source of our problems. For once it may give us the confidence of starting with a sure foot.
The adoption of a new constitution should accelerate further the creation of traditional institution of power: the legislative, the judiciary and the executive.
The Constituent Assembly is not part, per se, a permanent institution, but if it proves to be beneficial for the stability of the country, there is no reason not to preserve it as the legislative branch of government. But in all probability it will dissolve itself once a new assembly of legislators is elected under the new constitution. Its ultimate fate lies in the hand of the electorate.
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Samuel W. Yohannes resides in Pasadena, California