What Did We Dream? What Did We Achieve?

And Where Are We Heading?

Addis Tribune (Addis Ababa)

OPINION
April 23, 2004
Posted to the web April 23, 2004

Bahru Zewde

While the dream of succeeding generations was more or less as described
above, the question that we ought to tackle next is: "How far has the dream
been realized? If not, where did we go wrong? What opportunities did we
miss? Where did we go off track? Where did the train miss the track?"

If we start from the first dreamer, Tewodros, we can appreciate that,
while his dream was beautiful, the method he chose to realize it was wrong. As
Gabra-Heywat has written (if inadvertently in this context), what
Tewodros attempted was to bring the people together by force. He chose the sword
rather than the power of persuasion. Many were those who lost their limbs,
were shut up in a house and burnt alive, or thrown from the edge of a precipice.
The term was not known at the time; but what Tewodros unleashed on all those who
dared to oppose him was little short of "Red Terror". Given this fact, it is
not surprising that the people rose against him and drove him mad.

Tewodros's other problem was that the external ally that he sought to
introduce modern civilization in Ethiopia was not forthcoming. The British in
particular turned a deaf ear to his pleas and entreaties. In a manner so
uncharacteristic of British tradition, they even denied him the courtesy of
acknowledging his letter. This was another situation that drove him mad. Furious at the
British, who were far away, he took hostage the foreigners nearby. And with that
move, he hastened his downfall. What is surprising is that a few years after
the death of Tewodros, the situation was dramatically changed. Both the
British, who had been loath to hold his outstretched hand, and the other
Europeans sought with remarkable persistence to win over his successors. The
Italians in particular went even beyond that and sought to control the country more
than once.

When we turn our attention to the aspirations of the intellectuals of
the twentieth century, we encounter both achievements and failures. With
regard to ordered (more specifically, constitutional) governance, we have been
the beneficiaries of five constitutions. However, leaving aside the 1974
constitution, which was inspired by the popular upsurge and aborted
within a few months, the other constitutions have two features in common. The
first is that all of them were decreed from above rather than emanating from
below; they were charters of the victor rather than a covenant between the people
and the government. The second feature that they share is that, especially with
regard to civic rights, there has been a discordance between intent and
reality. In other words, one observes rights guaranteed by the constitution being
violated.

In this respect, the post-1991 situation has been encouraging in a
number of ways. The FDRE constitution has ensured the exercise of hitherto
suppressed rights. More than any other time in the past, the puplic (particularly
that of Addis Ababa) has been able to express its views freely. The mushrooming
of the private press has broken in some measure the government's monopoly of
the media. The expansion of NGOs and CSOs has created an opportunity to
work for country and compatriots outside the government framework. However, the
frequent reports of civic right violation has dimmed this bright hope. Over and
above the frequent harassment of the private press, recent measures suggest a
trend towards tightening control not only over that press but also other
non-governmental activities.

Before we wrap up this section dealing with "ordered governance", there
is something that we should note. And this is that under the constitution,
there are laws. In this respect, the highest achievement was recorded during
the Haile Selassie rule. The codes that we are still using - criminal,
civil and commercial - were all legislated at that time. Indeed, these codes have
shown greater durability than the constitutions. The only changes that have
been introduced are the series of special criminal codes promulgated by the
Derg to legalize its repressive acts.

What about the results achieved in the sphere of making the farmer
owner of the land he is tilling? The agitation of the pre-war intellectuals for the
abolition of the gabbar system was achieved before the Revolution. And
the slogan of "Land to the Tiller" appeared to have been realized with the
radical land reform proclamation of 1975. I use the word "appeared" advisedly,
because the proclamation that nationalized rural land did not liberate the
peasant fully. Rather, it imposed on him a new and no less demanding lord in
the shape of the peasant association. Far from becoming the rightful owner of his
land, he could not even sell his products in the market of his choice and for
a price that he deemed was rational. While this situation precipitated the fall
of the Derg, the peasant has been denied legal ownership of his land even
after that. In this sense, one can say that the "land to the tiller" agenda has
become a train that has missed its track.

One good way of gauging how our aspiration in this regard has
miscarried is through the incidence of famine in the country. One can even say that
famine has become the distinctive badge of Ethiopia. The extent and severity
of the famines have also increased from epoch to epoch, and from regime to
regime. Surprisingly enough, the extent and severity has tended to be directly
proportional to the sophistication of our development strategies and
the redoubling of our efforts to combat famine. Just as the 1984/85 famine
made mockery of the 1973 one, what we seem to be facing now seems to dwarf
the 1984/85 one (even if concerted national and international reactions
seem to be preventing the worst). And the rural population, far from being able to
support the nation, has been increasingly unable to feed itself.

While these periodic famines accentuate the perilous state of rural
life, their enduring basis is the endemic nature of rural poverty. What is more,
this endemic rural poverty has now come to be accompanied by an increasing
level of urban poverty. It has now become public knowledge that Ethiopia is one
of the poorest nations in the world. The country that its early twentieth
century intellectuals hoped would grow to be the Japan of Africa has in actual
fact become an epitome of poverty and famine. This situation makes mandatory
a reassessment of the rural development strategies successive regimes
have pursued.

As far as the question of religious and national equality is concerned,
the result is a mixed affair. Islam, one of the oldest religions in the
country, has come to enjoy since 1975 the kind of recognition and respect it
deserves. Nonetheless, one could notice a feeling of "It is getting too far" on
the part of the Christians and "It is only the beginning" on the part of
Muslims. Wise and prudent leadership is required on both sides to make sure that
these two old religions would not abandon their tradition of mutual tolerance
(except for one epoch, i.e. during the wars of Ahmba Gra-) and pursue the path of
bloody conflict. Another source of concern is the growing confrontation
between the followers of Orthodox Christianity and the adherents of a militant form
of Protestantism known in common parlance as "Penté". Many observers are
worried lest Ethiopia, successively subjected to the stresses and strains of
class struggle and ethnic conflict, become an arena of religious warfare.

At this juncture, however, the most controversial issue is the modality
chosen to ensure the equality of the different nationalities. The slogan of
"self-determination up to and including secession" hurled so readily in
the late 1960s has now been enshrined in the country's constitution. But,
one could notice three contending positions around this issue. The government,
which was instrumental in the drafting of the constitution, is convinced that
this constitutes the perfect formula for resolving the national question.
Some national liberation organizations argue, however, that national
oppression has continued in a new guise. A third party is worried that the experiment
could only lead to the disintegration of Ethiopia.

When we examine the matter more closely, the picture is much more
complex. True, nationalities have achieved relatively greater freedom to enrich
their language and develop their culture. However, except for Tegray and
perhaps the Amhara region, the administrative autonomy of the regions has become
questionable. As long as one political party or front holds undisputed
sway, it would be naïve to think that regions would be free from central
government control. Political power (alas!) has its own logic; it is not
necessarily bound by promises and constitutional guarantees.

As it stands, therefore, the ethnic politics that has prevailed since
1991 has been attended with a host of historical ironies. As all of us who
participated in the pre-Revolution student movement know, the recognition of the
right of nations and nationalities to self-determination up to and including
secession followed the Leninist tactic and was meant to support the Eritrean
struggle for rights and help to resolve it within a framework short of independence.
But the tactic misfired when the Eritrean fronts, this unstinting support from
the Ethiopian left notwithstanding, claimed that the Eritrean question was
a colonial question, and not a national question, and that their struggle
was for independence. Further, the fronts, particularly EPLF, completely
revised the history of the region and denied the historical links between the two
peoples and the struggle of Eritreans themselves for union with Ethiopia. They
invented a new history to show that the two countries had no historical links
whatsoever, that all Eritreans had struggled for independence since
1941. Moreover, they believed in this history and managed to sell it to the
world.

Forgotten both during the struggle for independence and after victory
were such crucial questions as: What would be the economic basis of an
independent Eritrea? What would be the nature of its link with Ethiopia? What would
be the fate of the many Eritreans who were living in Ethiopia in relative
comfort? What would be the political boundary between the two countries? The
result is the very complicated situation in which we find ourselves now.

The second irony is the fact that both Eritrea's independence and the
right of nations and nationalities to self-determination up to and including
secession have been proclaimed through the good offices of an organization that
purports to represent the people of Tegray. This is for two reasons. Firstly,
more than any other nation or nationality, it is the people of Tegray who have
historical links with Eritrea (particularly the highland part) and can appeciate
its Ethiopian-ness. Secondly, the question arises as to how it is possible
at one and the same time for a nationality that is numerically small to
maintain its hold on central power and at the same time proclaim the unrestricted
right of regions for self-administration.

The third irony lies in the birth of a movement that, copying in toto
the Eritreans' style (including the invention of history), has been arguing
that the right of the Oromo people could be ensured only through secession
from Ethiopia. This irony has two facets. On the one hand, it is incongruous
to follow an agenda of secession when it is known that the Oromo
constitute the single largest nationality in Ethiopia. On the other, more than any
other nationality, the Oromo have had the most intimate historical, cultural
and social links with other nationalities. In this respect, the emergence
of a trend that aspires to struggle for the recognition of the rights of the
Oromo people within the Ethiopian framework is encouraging.

The last and final irony is the condition of the peoples of southern
Ethiopia who, more than any other nationality, have been subjected to centuries
of oppression and injustice. In the last centuries, they have been
subjected to acts of injustice ranging from alienation of land to mass enslavement.
And yet, the kind of self-rule right granted them under the new political
dispensation has been dubious and controversial. Not only has a regional
administration been set up that does not represent the history or language of any of the
constituent nationalities, but this region has also had the distinction
of being the scene of ethnic strife and the target of armed assault by
government forces. And yet (and this is another dimension of the irony), the
people of this same southern region have demonstrated a sense of Ethiopian-ness
that is not inferior (and sometimes in fact superior) to that exhibited in any
other region.

As a matter of fact, the artificiality of the regional administrative
structure is not limited to the southern region. If we look at Amhara and Oromia
regions as well, although they demonstrate overall linguistic unity, they are
bereft of both historical basis and administrative rationality. Except for a
short while during the medieval period, when a region called Amhara was evident
around present day southern Wollo and northern Shawa, there has never been a
region designated by that name. As we all know, the historically authentic
regions of the Amhara-speaking peoples have been: Gondar, Gojjam, Wollo, Shawa,
etc. Likewise, there has never been in history a region as far-flung as
presentday Oromia. What we have had were: Arsi, Bale, Leqa, Jimma, etc. From the
point of view of administrative convenience, too, it does not make sense to
include within one unit the Amhara stretching from Ankober (in northeastern
Shawa) to Armacheho (in northwestern Gondar) or the Oromo from Ginir
(southeastern Bale) to Gidami (southwestern Wallaga).

The culmination of all these ironical developments has been that, in
place of the promised mutual trust and understanding between peoples, we have
come to witness unprecedented suspicion and rancour. Entire members of a
nationality are condemned because a few among them have improved their lot through
the acquisition of political power. In spite of the fact that it was once a
land that saw people who felt more Ethiopian than the Ethiopians themselves,
Eritrea has not only become independent but also entered a new chapter of
warfare with Ethiopia. Tegray, in many ways the cradle of Ethiopia, has come to be
regarded by many Ethiopians as the source of a movement bent on dismembering the
nation. The Oromo, who are no less Ethiopian than any other nationality, are
being harangued by a movement that tells them they have no historical links
with Ethiopia.

These internal contradictions of ethnic politics have become even more
manifest after the split within the TPLF. Because of that split, the
organization that has been chief architect and beneficiary of that politics has not only
been weakened but is virtually withering away. This is the genesis of the
current move to transform EPRDF into a multi-ethnic party. What the ultimate
outcome of this move would be is the big question of the day. Would it give a
chance to other multi-ethnic organizations that have so far been kept at bay? Or
would it result in the kind of one-man rule that attended the transition under
the Derg from Imaledeh (the Union of Ethiopian-Marxist Leninist Organizations)
to the Workers' Party of Ethiopia? Would it open a new administration where
the rights of nationalities will be chastened by Ethiopian-ness or will it
re-impose centralism in a new guise? Only developments in the coming few years
will tell.

Before we close this section, it would be useful to point out some
missed opportunities or wrong turns not so much for the sake of remorse as for
a better understanding of our present state and future direction. If we
start from the Haile Sellassie regime, there is no doubt that that epoch was
characterized by unprecedented achievements in the introduction of
modern administration and civilization. In particular, notable progress was
seen in the realms of education and the expansion of infrastructure (such as
Ethiopian Airlines, Telecommunications, Highway, etc.). Ethiopians, who have had
to endure so much suffering in the revolutionary years, have been forced
to look back to that epoch with nostalgia.

But that regime had two cardinal failings. These were its failure to
liberalize administration and to exert even the minimum effort to initiate land
reform. It was unable to guarantee democratic rights or tolerate a genuinely
legislative parliament and a prime minister who could form and lead his cabinet. In
short, it was unable to introduce constitutional monarchy of the British or
Scandinavian model. With respect to land tenure, it passed away unable
even to regulate tenancy, let alone entertain fundamental land reform.

The occasion for initiating change along the lines suggested above
presented itself more than once. After the failed coup of 1960, rather than be
complacent at its failure, the regime should have learnt a lesson from its very
occurrence and introduced some meaningful reform. Then, on the occasion of the
emperor's 80th birday ( two years before the 1974 Revolution), as was almost
universally expected, the emperor could have made some transitional arrangements.
But what Ethiopians got out of the whole exercise were festivities and street
lamps decorated in the national colours. As a result, the change that could
not come in measured fashion was conceived through popular upsurge and
proclaimed by force of arms. And the outcome on the whole became blood and tears.

It has now become fashionable not only to criticize but also to condemn
the harbinger of that revolution, the student movement. Although, the
movement undeniably had many weaknesses and committed many mistakes,
appreciating the fact that it was by and large a product of the system would save one
from blind condemnation. For instance, among its weaknesses and mistakes, the one
that stands out is the culture of extremism that is still far from defunct.
But this extremism was born out of a situation marked by the absence of any
meaningful reform. Revolution occurs when there is no credible reform. Revolution
erupts when there is no safety valve.
 
The eruption of the revolution and the sway exercised by the culture of
extremism swept away the Endalkachaw cabinet (February-July, 1974) and
paved the way to military rule. Moreover, the two major multi-ethnic leftist
organizations (EPRP and Ma'ison), because they were subject to this
culture of extremism, were unable to resolve their minor differences and were
hence in turn eliminated by the Derg. It is a moot point whether Ethiopia would
have been better off with these leftist organizations rather than the Derg.
What is indisputable is that their liquidation cleared the stage for the
ascendancy of national liberation fronts, who ultimately wiped out the Derg and
ushered in the era where we find ourselves.

Finally, it has become increasingly evident that the manner in which
the Eritrean problem was resolved is at the root of the war and suffering
we have endured in the past few years. During the liberation struggle, EPLF
itself had tentatively suggested three possible options in case of a referendum:
union, federation, or independence. But, in 1993, Eritreans were confronted
with a stark choice of "freedom or slavery". The Transitional Ethiopian
Government for its part, bent on facilitating the referendum à la EPLF, was unable or
unwilling to take any steps to protect the rights of Eritreans who
considered themselves Ethiopian or to provide for Ethiopia's long-standing
interests.