AGENDA SUBMITTED TO THE NATIONAL DIALOGUE COMMISSION, TORONTO, CANADA – SEPTEMBER 6, 2025.

Habtamu Nini Abino 

 

 Ambassador Mohamud Drir and Habtamu Abino  in Toronto, September 6,2025

PART ONE

 Constitutional Amendments and “Red Line” Provisions in Ethiopia’s Constitution

This agenda is submitted to the Ethiopian National Dialogue Commission (ENDC) for the National Dialogue session scheduled in Toronto, Canada, on September 6, 2025. The agenda focuses on discussing the Constitution of the Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia (FDRE), enacted in 1995, specifically addressing provisions considered “red lines” that are politically or socially sensitive to amend. While the FDRE Constitution does not explicitly designate any articles as unamendable, specific provisions are foundational to Ethiopia’s federal and democratic structure, making them critical to the state’s identity and unity. Drawing from the Constitution’s text, historical context, and political discourse, particularly around ethnic federalism and national unity, this submission identifies key articles for discussion during the dialogue.

Key Articles Considered as Potential “Red Lines”

The following articles are deemed critical due to their role in Ethiopia’s federal, multi-ethnic framework and are proposed for discussion to assess their significance and implications for amendment:

Article 1: Nomenclature of the State

Provision: Establishes Ethiopia as a Federal Democratic Republic with a federal and democratic state structure.

Why a Red Line? This article defines Ethiopia’s federal framework, accommodating ethnic diversity through regional states. Amending it could undermine the federal system, a core compromise for Ethiopia’s multi-ethnic society, including groups like the Oromo. Proposals to shift to a unitary state or confederation, as suggested by some scholars, are highly contentious and could destabilise ethnic balances, risking tensions among diverse groups.

Article 2: Ethiopian Territorial Jurisdiction

Provision: Defines Ethiopia’s territorial boundaries as determined by international agreements.

Why a Red Line? Any amendment altering territorial integrity could provoke disputes with neighbouring countries or internal ethnic groups tied to specific regions, such as the Oromia Region. This article is foundational to national sovereignty and unity, making it a sensitive issue for discussion in the dialogue.

Article 8: Sovereignty of the People

Provision: Vests all sovereimovement, preservation ofpeoples of Ethiopia, exercised through elected representatives and direct democratic participation.

Why a Red Line? This article underpins Ethiopia’s ethnic federalism, recognising the collective rights of ethnic groups like the Oromo, Amhara, and Tigray. Changing it could erode the principle of self-determination, a core demand of historically marginalised groups, including the Oromo, and is likely to face significant opposition.

Article 9: Supremacy of the Constitution

Provision: Declares the Constitution as the supreme law, invalidating any law, custom, or decision contrary to it.

Why a Red Line? This ensures the Constitution’s authority over all governance, safeguarding against arbitrary rule. Amending it could weaken the legal framework protecting ethnic and individual rights, which is critical for groups like the Oromo under Ethiopia’s federal system and vital for ensuring legal stability.

Article 39: Rights of Nations, Nationalities, and Peoples

Provision: This provision grants every nation, nationality, and people the right to self-determination, including secession, cultural development, and self-governance within a federal structure.

Why a Red Line? This is perhaps the most sensitive article, codifying ethnic federalism and the right to secession, a cornerstone of Ethiopia’s accommodation of ethnic diversity. It ensures cultural identity (e.g., Oromummaa) and regional autonomy for the Oromo and other groups. Amending or removing it could inflame ethnic tensions, as it is seen as a safeguard against centralised domination, a historical grievance from the imperial era. However, its secession clause is controversial, with some arguing it threatens national unity, making it a critical point for dialogue.

Articles 13–44 (Chapter Three): Fundamental Rights and Freedoms

Provisions: Encompass human and democratic rights, including equality (Article 25), freedom of religion (Article 27), and freedom of movement (Article 32), applicable to all persons, including foreigners, except for specific Ethiopian-only rights (e.g., voting).

Why a Red Line? These articles enshrine universal human rights and are aligned with international treaties like the UDHR and ICCPR, which Ethiopia has ratified. They protect individual and collective rights, such as the Oromo’s freedom to practice Islam or Christianity and maintain cultural practices like Irreechaa. Amending these could undermine Ethiopia’s human rights commitments and alienate diverse groups, making them essential for discussion.

Constitutional Amendment Process and Implicit Red Lines

The FDRE Constitution outlines its amendment process in Article 104 (Initiation of Amendments) and Article 105 (Amendment Procedures):

Article 104: Amendments can be proposed by a two-thirds majority of the House of Peoples’ Representatives, the House of Federation, or one-third of the State Councils.

Article 105: Amendments require a two-thirds majority in both federal houses and, for specific provisions, approval by a majority of State Councils. Notably, amendments to Chapter Three (Fundamental Rights and Freedoms) and Article 105 require approval by a majority of State Councils representing Ethiopia’s ethnic regions.

While no article is explicitly unamendable, the stringent requirements for amending Chapter Three and the federal structure suggest these are de facto “red lines.” Changing them requires a broad consensus across ethnic groups, which is politically challenging given Ethiopia’s diverse and polarised landscape. For instance, altering Article 39’s secession clause could face opposition from groups like the Oromo or Tigray, who view it as a safeguard. In contrast, others may advocate for its revision to strengthen national unity. This tension warrants careful discussion in the dialogue.

Political and Social Context

The “red lines” concept emerges from political discourse rather than the constitutional text. Ethiopia’s ethnic federalism, established to address the historic marginalisation of groups like the Oromo, makes articles related to ethnic rights (e.g., Article 39) and the federal structure (e.g., Article 1) politically sensitive. Discussions around constitutional reform, as noted in sources like borkena.com, suggest that while some articles (e.g., nomenclature in Article 1) could be reviewed, changes to foundational principles like ethnic federalism or self-determination risk national stability. With their history of resistance and strong cultural identity (Oromummaa), the Oromo would likely view amendments to these articles as threats to their autonomy and cultural rights.

The ongoing National Dialogue (2022–2025) highlights debates over constitutional amendments. Some groups advocate revising Article 39 to remove secession rights, arguing it undermines unity, while Oromo nationalists defend it as essential to ethnic self-determination. The dialogue’s inclusivity challenges underscore the difficulty of amending these provisions without alienating key stakeholders, a key issue for this session in Toronto.

Critical Perspective

The absence of explicit “unamendable” articles balances flexibility and stability but leaves room for interpretation. The establishment narrative, rooted in the 1995 Constitution’s ethnic federalism, emphasises diversity, but critics argue it entrenches ethnic divisions. For the Oromo, these articles protect their cultural and political marginalisation in Oromia, yet some may see rigid adherence to ethnic federalism as limiting national cohesion. The lack of clear “red lines” allows dialogue but risks instability if sensitive provisions are targeted without consensus, a point for stakeholders to address.

Proposed Discussion Points for the National Dialogue

Assessing Sensitivity: Which articles (e.g., Article 39, Chapter Three) are most critical to maintaining Ethiopia’s federal and democratic structure, and why?

Balancing Unity and Diversity: How can the dialogue address tensions between ethnic self-determination (e.g., Article 39) and national unity without destabilising the country?

Inclusivity in Amendments: How can the amendment process (Articles 104–105) ensure representation of diverse groups, like the Oromo, in constitutional reform?

Safeguarding Rights: How can amendments to foundational articles protect human rights and cultural identities (e.g., Oromummaa) while fostering cohesion?

Conclusion

The FDRE Constitution does not formally designate articles as unamendable. Still, Articles 1, 2, 8, 9, 39, and Chapter Three (Articles 13–44) are considered “red lines” due to their foundational role in Ethiopia’s federal, multi-ethnic framework and human rights commitments. These provisions are critical for groups like the Oromo, ensuring their cultural identity and autonomy. Amending them requires extraordinary consensus, making changes politically sensitive. This agenda calls for the National Dialogue Commission to facilitate inclusive discussions in Toronto to address these provisions, balancing ethnic diversity with national unity.

  

PART TWO

Oromo Perspective on Constitutional “Red Line” Provisions and the National Dialogue

The Oromo, as Ethiopia’s largest ethnic group, have a significant stake in the National Dialogue scheduled for September 6, 2025, in Toronto, particularly regarding the “red line” provisions of the FDRE Constitution (1995). These provisions—Articles 1, 2, 8, 9, 39, and Chapter Three (Articles 13–44)—are critical to their cultural identity (Oromummaa), political autonomy, and historical struggle against marginalisation. Below, I elaborate on the Oromo perspective, their priorities for the dialogue, and how these constitutional articles shape their engagement.

Oromo Perspective on Key “Red Line” Provisions

Article 1: Nomenclature of the State (Federal Democratic Republic)

Oromo View: The federal structure is non-negotiable for many Oromo, as it grants regional autonomy through the Oromia Region, allowing self-governance and cultural expression (e.g., use of Afaan Oromo). Historical centralisation under imperial and Derg regimes suppressed Oromo identity, safeguarding this article against reverting to unitary rule.

Dialogue Priority: Oromo stakeholders may advocate for strengthening federalism to ensure equitable resource distribution and political representation, resisting any push toward a unitary state, which some fear could marginalise ethnic groups.

Article 2: Ethiopian Territorial Jurisdiction

Oromo View: Ethiopia's territorial integrity, including the Oromia Region, is vital for maintaining Oromo lands, which are central to their economic and cultural survival. Historical land dispossession during Menelik’s era remains a grievance, and any amendment threatening regional boundaries could be seen as undermining Oromo rights.

Dialogue Priority: A key focus will be to ensure that territorial discussions respect regional boundaries and address land-related grievances, particularly in Oromia.

Article 8: Sovereignty of the People

Oromo View: This article’s recognition of sovereignty for “nations, nationalities, and peoples” aligns with Oromo demands for self-determination. It empowers them to participate in national governance while preserving regional authority.

Dialogue Priority: Oromo participants may push for mechanisms to enhance direct democratic participation, such as stronger regional representation in federal institutions, to reflect their population size and historical contributions.

Article 9: Supremacy of the Constitution

Oromo View: The Constitution’s supremacy protects against arbitrary governance, which historically disadvantaged the Oromo through cultural assimilation policies. It ensures legal recourse for rights violations, a critical issue for a group with a history of political exclusion.

Dialogue Priority: Oromo stakeholders may emphasise maintaining this article to safeguard constitutional protections, particularly cultural and linguistic rights, while addressing enforcement gaps.

Article 39: Rights of Nations, Nationalities, and Peoples

Oromo View: This article is central to Oromo identity, guaranteeing self-determination, cultural development (e.g., Oromummaa), and regional autonomy. The right to secession, though controversial, is seen as a symbolic safeguard against centralised oppression. Oromo nationalists, drawing on historical resistance to imperial rule, view this article as non-negotiable.

Dialogue Priority: The Oromo may fiercely defend Article 39, particularly its self-determination clauses, while discussing the secession clause. They may seek clarity on balancing ethnic rights with national unity to prevent misinterpretations that fuel ethnic tensions.

Articles 13–44 (Chapter Three): Fundamental Rights and Freedoms

Oromo View: These articles protect the Oromo’s rights to practice their religion (Islam, Christianity, or Waaqeffannaa), maintain cultural practices like Irreechaa, and enjoy equality and freedom of movemepreservation ofntiontiontiontiontionng Oromummaa within a multi-ethnic state.

Dialogue Priority: We will focus on ensuring these rights remain robust and on mechanisms to address violations (e.g., discrimination against Oromo in urban areas). Oromo participants may advocate for more vigorous enforcement of cultural and linguistic rights.

Oromo Priorities for the National Dialogue

The National Dialogue (2022–2025) provides a platform for the Oromo to address constitutional and historical issues. Key priorities include:

Inclusivity: Ensuring Oromo representation, including urban, rural, and diaspora voices, to reflect their diversity. The Toronto session, targeting the diaspora, is critical for incorporating global Oromo perspectives.

Historical Grievances: These concerns include land dispossession, cultural suppression, and political marginalisation during the imperial and Derg eras, which fuel demands for stronger constitutional protections.

Balancing Oromummaa and National Unity: Navigating tensions between Oromo cultural identity and Ethiopian unity, particularly regarding Article 39’s secession clause, which some view as divisive.

Economic Equity: Advocating for fair resource allocation to Oromia, addressing disparities that have sparked protests (e.g., Oromo Protests, 2014–2016).

Cultural Preservation: Reinforcing constitutional protections for Afaan Oromo, Irreechaa, and the Gadaa system, ensuring they are not diluted by amendments.

Challenges and Opportunities

Challenges:

Inclusivity Gaps: Some Oromo groups, particularly opposition factions, may feel excluded from the dialogue, as seen in criticisms of the ENDC’s process. Ensuring broad representation is critical.

Polarisation: Debates over Article 39 (secession) could polarise Oromo nationalists and pro-unity groups, requiring careful mediation.

Implementation: Past dialogues have struggled with follow-through, as seen in Yemen. The Oromo will likely demand precise mechanisms for implementing agreements.

Opportunities:

Consensus-Building: The dialogue can bridge divides between Oromo and other groups (e.g., Amhara, Tigray) by addressing shared concerns like governance and equity.

Diaspora Engagement: The Toronto session offers a chance to include Oromo diaspora voices, strengthening global support for their priorities.

Reform Advocacy: The Oromo can push for constitutional reforms that enhance federalism while preserving national cohesion, aligning with their vision of Oromummaa within Ethiopia.

Recommendations for the Toronto Session

Facilitate Oromo Representation: Ensure diverse Oromo voices (youth, women, diaspora) are included, with translation services for Afaan Oromo to encourage participation.

Focus on Article 39: Hold working groups to discuss balancing self-determination with national unity, addressing Oromo concerns about centralised oppression.

Address Historical Grievances: Create a sub-session on land and cultural rights, allowing Oromo participants to propose constitutional safeguards.

Ensure Transparency: Publicly share dialogue outcomes to build trust and address Oromo scepticism about government-led processes.

Engage Neutral Facilitators: Given historical mistrust between Oromo groups and the state, use international mediators to ensure impartiality.

Conclusion

The Oromo perspective emphasises the importance of Articles 1, 2, 8, 9, 39, and Chapter Three as “red lines” that protect their autonomy, cultural identity (Oromummaa), and rights within Ethiopia’s federal system. The National Dialogue in Toronto offers a critical opportunity to address these provisions, ensuring they balance Oromo aspirations with national unity. The dialogue can strengthen Ethiopia's multi-ethnic framework by prioritising inclusivity, historical redress, and robust constitutional protections.

PART Three

Enhancing Linguistic Equality in Ethiopia: 

Adopting Multiple Federal Working Languages

The Constitution of the Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia (FDRE), enacted in 1995, enshrines linguistic diversity as a cornerstone of national identity. Article 5 explicitly states that "All Ethiopian languages shall enjoy equal state recognition," while designating Amharic as the working language of the Federal Government and allowing regional states to determine their own.f50a66 This provision acknowledges Ethiopia's rich tapestry of over 80 languages. Yet, the exclusive use of Amharic at the federal level creates practical inequalities, limiting access for non-Amharic speakers to government services, education, and justice. To truly uphold constitutional equality, the Federal Government must adopt at least five major languages as working languages, including Afaan Oromo, Tigrinya, Somali, Sidama, Afar, and Wolayta, fostering inclusivity in a multi-ethnic society. Drawing from South Africa's successful multilingual policy, this reform could bridge divides and promote national unity.

Currently, Amharic's dominance marginalises Ethiopia's linguistic diversity. With Oromo spoken by over 36 million people (about 34% of the population), Amharic by 31.8 million (29%), Somali by 6.7 million, Tigrinya by approximately 7 million, and others like Sidama (4 million), Afar (1.8 million), and Wolayta (2.4 million) representing significant communities, the single-language policy excludes millions.3e0c9a4bfa85 Non-Amharic speakers face barriers in federal institutions, perpetuating historical marginalisation from imperial eras when Amharic was imposed. Adopting multiple working languages would democratize access, enabling citizens to engage in governance without linguistic hurdles. For instance, official documents, parliamentary proceedings, and public services in Afaan Oromo—the most widely spoken language—would empower Oromo communities. At the same time, Tigrinya and Somali would include northern and eastern regions, respectively. Sidama, Afar, and Wolayta, spoken in southern and eastern zones, would ensure representation for smaller but vital groups, aligning with Article 5's equality mandate.

South Africa's Constitution provides a compelling model. Section 6 recognises 11 official languages (now 12, including South African Sign Language), mandating "parity of esteem" and equitable treatment.6df37f314f5f post-apartheid, this policy addressed linguistic divisions, promoting reconciliation by rotating languages in government and education. National departments adopt at least three languages based on regional demographics, enhancing public participation and reducing alienation.0acc28 Similarly, Ethiopia could implement a rotational system system system system systemtem contextual system, where federal communications use Amharic alongside Oromo, Tigrinya, Somali, Sidama, Afar, and Wolayta in relevant contexts. This would not dilute Amharic but elevate others, fostering economic opportunities, cultural preservation, and social cohesion.

The benefits are multifaceted: improved governance efficiency, as citizens interact in native tongues; reduced ethnic tensions by affirming equal rights; and enhanced national identity through diversity. As in South Africa, challenges like translation costs could be mitigated via technology and phased implementation.

In conclusion, to fulfil Article 5's promise, Ethiopia must expand federal working languages beyond Amharic. Adopting Afaan Oromo, Tigrinya, Somali, Sidama, Afar, Wolayta, and others would create equitable opportunities, mirroring South Africa's inclusive approach. This reform is essential for a truly federal democracy, ensuring no language—and no people—is left behind.

 

Kleptocracy, kakistocracy, and deep state networks, and how these terms relate to perceptions of governance like those expressed about Ethiopia today.

 Kleptocremainskakistocracy, deep state networks, and how these terms relate to perceptions of governance, like those expressed about Ethiopia today.

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1.Understanding the Concepts

1.1. Kleptocracy

Kleptocracy comes from the Greek kleptēs (thief) and kratos (power or rule). It literally means “rule by thieves.”
In a kleptocracy, political leaders and their networks systematically use public office for personal enrichment. This form of government prioritises:

• Looting of public resources – diverting national wealth into private hands.
• Institutional capture – ensuring that courts, police, tax offices, and state companies are staffed by loyalists who enable or cover up corruption.
• State–business collusion – where political elites hold stakes in companies that benefit from state contracts and licenses.

Kleptocracy is not merely corruption on a small scale; it is structural. The entire political system is geared toward extraction rather than service delivery.
Common signs include:

• Sudden enrichment of officials after assuming office.
• State contracts are consistently awarded to politically connected individuals or companies.
• Public funds are disappearing with little to no accounting.

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1.2. Kakistocracy

Kakistocracy combines the Greek kakistos (worst) with kratos (rule). It means “rule by the worst, least qualified, or most unscrupulous citizens.”
While kleptocracy focuses on self-enrichment, kakistocracy emphasises incompetence. In a kakistocracy:

• Leaders lack the skills, education, or ethical foundation to govern effectively.
• Public appointments are based on loyalty, ethnicity, or personal loyalty rather than merit.
• Policy failures are frequent because decision-makers cannot understand or manage complex systems.
• Critical institutions—education, health, economy, and justice—deteriorate under poor leadership.

Kakistocracy often overlaps with kleptocracy: the worst leaders may be the most corrupt. However, a state can be incompetent without being systematically looted (or vice versa).

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1.3. Deep State

The “deep state” refers to informal, hidden networks of power within a country that operate beyond the control of formal democratic or constitutional institutions.
While the term is sometimes used conspiratorially, in political science, it describes:

• Security and intelligence agencies, or parts of them, act independently of elected officials.
• Elite economic or political networks that manipulate policy outcomes regardless of official procedures.
• Military factions or foreign intelligence assets with long-term influence on state decisions.

The deep state is not necessarily a single conspiracy; rather, it can be a set of overlapping power centres:

• Influential generals with loyal armed units.
• Intelligence officers with compromising files on politicians.
• Business elites who fund and direct key ministries.
• Foreign governments leverage aid, loans, or covert operations to shape domestic politics.

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2. How These Concepts Intersect in Practice

These three forms of governance failure often reinforce one another:

• A kleptocratic elite needs to remain in power to continue looting, so they fill government posts with loyal but often incompetent (kakistocratic) officials who will not challenge them.
• Incompetence leads to public discontent, so the elite depends on deep state security and intelligence networks to suppress dissent and control narratives.
• The profound state benefits from kleptocracy because it can siphon resources without oversight, and it benefits from kakistocracy because weak leaders are easier to manipulate.

This creates a self-sustaining system:

1. Corruption drains public resources.
2. Incompetence prevents effective governance.
3. Hidden networks protect the corrupt and incompetent from accountability.

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3. Why People Apply These Terms to Ethiopia

When people say Ethiopia today is run by kleptocracy, kakistocracy, and a deep state, they are expressing a perception that:

• The formal government institutions—parliament, ministries, courts—do not genuinely exercise power.
• Real decision-making happens in informal networks of security officials, ethnic-political elites, and business tycoons.
• Many leaders in public office are unqualified or indifferent to public welfare.
• Public resources—from state enterprises to foreign aid—are diverted into private accounts or used to reward political loyalty.

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3.1. The Kleptocratic Dimension

Ethiopia’s political economy is highly centralised in terms of power but fragmented in terms of loyalty. In such a system:

• State-owned enterprises can be used as cash cows for ruling elites.
• Foreign investment contracts (mining, telecom, agriculture) may be negotiated secretly, with rents flowing to a few insiders.
• Aid and loans from international donors can be misused when monitoring is weak, often funnelled into patronage systems.

Historical precedents exist—from the imperial era through the Derg and into the EPRDF and Prosperity Party era—of elites enriching themselves while the public struggles.

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3.2. The Kakistocratic Dimension

Kakistocracy manifests when:

• Political appointments are based on ethnic affiliation or personal loyalty rather than competence.
• Ministers and agency heads have little technical expertise in their areas.
• Critical institutions (health, education, infrastructure) are mismanaged, leading to crises despite available resources.
• Policies are reactive and short-term, driven by political survival rather than national development.

Incompetence often deepens ethnic and regional inequalities, fuels conflict, and erodes state legitimacy.

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3.3. The Deep State Dimension

In Ethiopia, the concept of the “deep state” is linked to:

• Security and intelligence structures built up over decades that retain influence regardless of political transitions.
• Factions within the military and police with autonomous agendas.
• Networks of diaspora financiers, foreign lobbyists, and business elites who shape domestic politics from behind the scenes.
• Ethno-political militias aligned with parts of the security apparatus.

This perception is strengthened when:

• Key decisions are made without public debate.
• Military operations, security deals, or political settlements occur outside the formal legislative process.
• Governments change leaders, but policies and patterns of control remain the same.

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4. Consequences for Governance and Society

When these three features combine:

1. Erosion of Trust – Citizens stop believing in state institutions because they see them as tools of self-enrichment and repression.
2. Weak Service Delivery – Education, health care, and infrastructure suffer because funds are diverted and leadership is inept.
3. Entrenched Inequality – Wealth and power concentrate in the hands of a few, deepening divisions between ethnic, regional, and class groups.
4. Cycle of Instability – Public frustration leads to protests or insurgencies; the deep state responds with repression, which fuels more resistance.

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5. Breaking the Cycle

To move away from a system perceived as kleptocratic, kakistocratic, and deep state–controlled, several conditions must be met:

• Institutional Reform – Strengthening independent courts, audit bodies, and media.
• Merit-Based Appointments – Depoliticising the civil service and prioritising competence.
• Transparency and Accountability – Making public procurement and contracts open to scrutiny.
• Security Sector Reform – Ensuring the military and intelligence agencies are accountable to elected authorities.
• Civic Engagement – Empowering citizens to participate in governance beyond ethnic or partisan lines.

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Conclusion

When Ethiopians or observers describe the current state as one of kleptocracy, kakistocracy, and deep state control, they are pointing to a pattern in which:

• Public power is used for private enrichment.
• Leadership quality is deliberately degraded to preserve control.
• Absolute authority lies in hidden networks rather than constitutional institutions.

These dynamics are not unique to Ethiopia—they have appeared in various forms in other countries experiencing governance crises. However, Ethiopia’s situation is intensified by its ethnic federal structure, history of a centralised security apparatus, and ongoing political instability. Understanding these terms helps clarify the critiques and points the way toward reforms that could restore legitimacy, competence, and transparency to governance.

PART I

The historical case study tracing how kleptocracy, kakistocracy, and deep state elements have appeared across Ethiopia’s modern political eras, connecting the theory I gave you to actual events and patterns.

Case Study: Ethiopia’s Political Evolution Through the Lens of Kleptocracy, Kakistocracy, and Deep State

1. Imperial Era (Haile Selassie, 1930–1974)

Kleptocratic Features

The imperial court and nobility maintained vast landholdings acquired through conquest and royal grants.

Land taxes and rents enriched the elite while peasants bore heavy burdens.

Public resources often funded royal patronage—lavish palaces, elite schools for the aristocracy, and ceremonial projects—while rural infrastructure lagged.

Kakistocratic Features

Ministerial positions were frequently assigned based on loyalty to the emperor rather than administrative skill.

Many provincial governors were appointed from the nobility with little local governance training, resulting in poor public service delivery.

Centralised decision-making slowed urgent reforms, including land redistribution.

Deep State Elements

The imperial security apparatus, especially the police and military intelligence units, acted to preserve the monarchy.

Political dissent was closely monitored, and influential provincial lords operated semi-autonomously, controlling local resources and security forces.

2. The Derg / Military Socialist Era (1974–1991)

Kleptocratic Features

Officially, the Derg pursued socialism, abolishing private land ownership. But in practice, the top military and party officials enjoyed privileged access to the state housing, vehicles, and goods.

Nationalised companies often served as personal revenue streams for senior officers.

Corruption flourished in the black-market networks controlled by politically connected figures.

Kakistocratic Features

Governance was dominated by military officers with little training in economics, education, or health policy.

Ideological purity outweighed competence, leading to disastrous economic and agricultural policies, including the poorly planned villagisation program.

Central planning was rigid, ignoring local needs and expertise

Deep State Elements

The security state became all-encompassing: military intelligence, state security (Kebur Zebegna), and local surveillance committees tightly controlled the population.

Decisions were concentrated within a small group around Mengistu Haile Mariam, with minimal transparency or institutional checks.

Factional rivalries inside the military leadership meant that key policies often reflected power struggles rather than public interest.

3. EPRDF Era (1991–2018)

Kleptocratic Features

The party–state fusion allowed the ruling TPLF/EPRDF to control lucrative state enterprises in telecom, construction, and agriculture.

Corruption scandals emerged around public works, sugar projects, and dam construction contracts.

Business elites tied to party structures benefited disproportionately from privatisation and foreign investment deals.

Kakistocratic Features

Ethnic loyalty and party discipline outweighed merit in appointments.

Regional leaders were sometimes chosen for political reliability rather than technical ability, leading to uneven governance capacity across federal states.

Policy debate within the ruling coalition was often staged rather than substantive, discouraging innovative governance.

Deep State Elements

The intelligence and security network, inherited from the Derg but modernised with surveillance technology, retained outsized influence over political life.

Military procurement and operations were often opaque, run by trusted insiders.

Even after leadership reshuffles, the same security and economic elite circles remained dominant behind the scenes.

4. Prosperity Party Era (2019–Present)

Kleptocratic Features

Reports of elite capture of state contracts and aid funds persist, now involving networks tied to new political factions.

Some regional administrations have been accused of diverting humanitarian supplies and public budgets to fund militias or enrich local officials.

State-owned enterprises continue to be leveraged for patronage and political financing.

Kakistocratic Features

Political appointments are often made to satisfy ethnic alliances rather than selecting the most capable administrators.

Critical ministries, including health, education, and infrastructure, have faced management crises due to inexperienced or politically beholden leadership.

Policy implementation is inconsistent, hampered by poor coordination between federal and regional levels.

Deep State Elements

The security sector remains a powerful political actor, with military, police, and intelligence services deeply involved in political decisions.

Informal networks—linking parts of the diaspora, military officers, and business elites—shape strategic policies without public debate.

Parallel power structures, including ethnic militias and politically connected business cartels, sometimes override official state authority.

Patterns Across the Eras

Looking at these four periods, some commentators stand out:

1. Continuity of Informal Power – Regardless of ideology (monarchist, socialist, federalist), Ethiopia’s political order has consistently featured hidden networks that shape governance outside formal institutions.

2. Resource Capture – State resources have often been treated as spoils for the ruling coalition, whether aristocrats, military officers, or party elites.

3. Weak Institutional Checks—Courts, legislatures, and the media have rarely been fully independent, allowing kleptocratic and deep state practices to flourish.

4. Meritocracy Undermined – Across eras, loyalty—whether to the emperor, the party, or an ethnic coalition—has outweighed competence in public appointments.

Implications for the Present

When Ethiopians today describe the government as kleptocratic, kakistocratic, and controlled by a deep state, they are drawing on this long history:

The kleptocracy label reflects the entrenched habit of resource diversion for elite benefit.

The kakistocracy label reflects decades of prioritising loyalty over skill in public service.

The deep state label reflects the persistence of hidden, informal networks that can outlast formal leadership changes.

These perceptions are not only about the last few years—they tap into a political legacy that spans the imperial court, revolutionary militarism, one-party dominance, and today’s fragile federal order.

PART III 

Enemies of Good Governance and Democracy: Kleptocracy, Kakistocracy, and Deep State Networks

Good governance and democracy rest on transparency, accountability, merit-based leadership, and the supremacy of formal institutions over informal power. When these foundations are compromised, governance becomes significant and disconnected from the public interest. Three forces—kleptocracy, kakistocracy, and deep state networks—are particularly corrosive, and in countries like Ethiopia, their perceived presence has become a major obstacle to democratic progress.

Kleptocracy: Rule by Theft

Kleptocracy occurs when those in power use state institutions to enrich themselves and their networks rather than serve the public. It goes beyond petty corruption; it is a system in which resource extraction is the primary function of government. Public contracts, aid, and state-owned enterprises are diverted to benefit elites, leaving essential services underfunded and infrastructure neglected. In Ethiopia, perceptions of kleptocracy stem from allegations of elite capture of state resources, opaque foreign investment deals, and the diversion of humanitarian aid into patronage systems. Such practices erode public trust, distort economic priorities, and hollow out institutions based on the public interest.

Kakistocracy: Rule by the Worst

Kakistocracy describes governance by the least qualified or most unscrupulous leaders. It thrives when political appointments are made on the basis of loyalty, ethnic affiliation, or personal allegiance rather than competence and integrity. In Ethiopia’s current political climate, critics point to unqualified individuals holding senior positions in ministerial and regional administrations and public enterprises. This results in poor policy design, weak service delivery, and inability to manage crises effectively. Kakistocracy not only undermines efficiency—it normalizes mediocrity and erodes the principle that leadership should be earned through merit and capability.

Deep State Networks: Rule from the Shadows

The term “deep state” refers to entrenched, informal networks of power—often involving military, intelligence, and economic elites—that operate beyond the control of elected or constitutional bodies. In Ethiopia, perceptions of a deep state are linked to the continuing influence of security institutions, politically connected business cartels, and diaspora-linked financiers who can shape policy and security decisions without public scrutiny. These networks can bypass formal checks and balances, undermine civilian authority, and perpetuate elite interests regardless of who holds office. The deep state thrives in secrecy, making it exceptionally resistant to reform.

How They Interact to Undermine Democracy

When kleptocracy, kakistocracy, and deep state power overlap, they form a self-reinforcing system:

Kleptocracy requires protection from oversight, which deep state networks provide.

Deep state actors prefer weak, loyal leaders, which perpetuates kakistocracy.

Kakistocracy’s incompetence creates crises that kleptocrats and deep state operatives exploit to consolidate control.

The result is a vicious cycle where democratic institutions are hollowed out, public participation is reduced to ritual, and governance becomes a tool for elite survival rather than national development.

Breaking, depoliticising, and fronting these enemies of good governance requires:

Strengthening independent institutions, especially the judiciary and media.

Enforcing transparency in state contracts and public spending.

Depoliticizing the civil service and adopting merit-based appointments.

Reforming the security sector to ensure full civilian oversight.

Empowering civic movements to hold leaders accountable beyond ethnic or partisan lines.

Conclusion

Kleptocracy, kakistocracy, and deep state networks represent not just flaws in governance—they are systemic threats to democracy itself. In Ethiopia, their perceived influence explains much of the public’s disillusionment with formal politics. Unless these forces are dismantled through institutional reform and civic empowerment, Ethiopia’s path toward genuine democracy will remain blocked by the enemies within.

Analysis: Scenarios of an Ethiopia–Eritrea Conflict over Assab

 Analysis: Scenarios of an Ethiopia–Eritrea Conflict over Assab

The three scenario diagrams offer an illustrative geopolitical mapping of possible alignments if Ethiopia and Eritrea entered into open conflict over the strategic port city of Assab, accompanied by a regime-change agenda in Asmara. By modelling relationships in three configurations—limited war, proxy escalation, and de-escalation—they reveal the fluidity and constraints of alliances in the Horn of Africa and its extended geopolitical theatre.

Scenario A: Limited War

In this initial phase, Ethiopia and Eritrea emerge as clear belligerents, with Ethiopia drawing explicit support from Somalia and Turkey, while Eritrea receives backing from Egypt, Iran, and Russia. The Gulf monarchies—UAE and Saudi Arabia—occupy a hedging position, preferring mediation to escalation, partly to safeguard Red Sea trade routes. Major powers like the USA, China, and Israel lean toward neutrality, prioritising stability over direct involvement. Ethiopia’s internal cohesion is weakened by insurgencies (OLF-OLA, Fano) and unresolved political tensions with the OFC and TPLF, which erode its ability to concentrate on the external front.

Scenario B: Regional Proxy Escalation

Here, alignments harden. Eritrea’s ties with Egypt, UAE, Iran, and Russia deepen, creating a counterweight to Ethiopia’s coalition of Somalia, Turkey, Israel, and the USA. The shift of Israel and the USA into Ethiopia’s camp suggests a regionalisation of the conflict driven by security concerns—maritime chokepoints and countering Iranian influence. Internal Ethiopian actors remain destabilising, prolonging the war and complicating military focus. Saudi Arabia maintains a mediator role, attempting to contain escalation without alienating either side.

Scenario C: De-escalation and Corridor Deal

Almost all actors adopt a mediation or neutral stance in the most optimistic configuration, leveraging diplomacy to secure a Red Sea access arrangement without regime change. Including Ethiopia’s internal armed and political actors in the mediation track suggests a broader peace process that addresses domestic insurgencies and interstate disputes. This scenario aligns with the strategic interests of China, the Gulf states, and global powers prioritising uninterrupted trade through the Bab el-Mandeb.

Strategic Implications

The diagrams underscore three constants across scenarios:

1. Ethiopia’s internal fractures are a persistent liability in war and negotiation.

2. Eritrea’s external support network shifts significantly with escalation, suggesting that Asmara’s survival depends heavily on outside backers.

3. Maritime security interests of global powers (USA, China) and Gulf states push them toward mediation unless escalation threatens shipping lanes.

Ultimately, the model shows that Ethiopia’s best prospects for securing Assab without catastrophic regional escalation lie in a de-escalation framework that couples external diplomacy with internal political settlements. Without such an approach, the risk of a drawn-out, proxy-fueled conflict rises sharply, drawing in actors far beyond the Horn.

I built three scenario-model graphics for a potential Ethiopia–Eritrea war over Assab (purely illustrative). Line styles show posture:

Solid = supports Ethiopia

Dotted = supports Eritrea

Dashed = mediates / neutral

Dash-dot = internal opposition to Ethiopia (OFC shown as legal opposition leaning to mediation)

Scenario A — Limited war: scenario_A_assab_limited.png

Scenario B — Regional proxy escalation: scenario_B_proxy_escalation.png

Scenario C — Rapid de-escalation & corridor deal: scenario_C_deescalation.

 PART II

Strategic Policy Paper

 Navigating the Ethiopia–Eritrea Assab Dispute: Strategies for Conflict Prevention, Maritime Security, and Regional Stability

Executive Summary

The possibility of open conflict between Ethiopia and Eritrea over Assab and a regime change agenda in Asmara carries profound implications for the Horn of Africa and the Red Sea maritime corridor. The strategic port of Assab sits at the intersection of regional rivalries, great power competition, and internal Ethiopian instability. Using the three modelled scenarios—Limited War, Proxy Escalation, and De-escalation Corridor Deal—this policy paper outlines risk assessments, strategic objectives, and actionable recommendations for Ethiopia, Eritrea, and external stakeholders to mitigate escalation and safeguard regional stability.

1. Strategic Context

Geopolitical Importance of Assab:

Assab offers Ethiopia direct maritime access, bypassing dependence on Djibouti.

For Eritrea, Assab is both a sovereign asset and a strategic bargaining chip for regime survival.

External Stakeholder Interests:

USA, China, Gulf States: Maintain secure Red Sea trade routes and prevent regional destabilisation.

Egypt & Iran: Use Eritrea to counterbalance Ethiopia and project influence.

Turkey and Israel: Strengthen allies, counter adversaries, and maintain regional maritime leverage.

Internal Ethiopian Dynamics:

Armed insurgencies (OLF-OLA, Fano) and political disputes (OFC, TPLF) threaten national cohesion and military focus

2. Scenario Analysis

Scenario A: Limited War

Features: Contained hostilities; Ethiopia gains regional military support but faces domestic instability.

Risks:

Disruption of Red Sea trade routes.

Rapid militarisation of the Ethiopia–Eritrea border.

Spillover of internal Ethiopian conflicts into the war theatre.

Opportunities:

Diplomatic space for Gulf states and China to mediate before escalation.

Scenario B: Proxy Escalation

Features: External actors solidify opposing alliances; maritime and airspace security are threatened.

Risks:

A drawn-out proxy war with economic sanctions and arms races.

Increased likelihood of naval incidents and global energy price shocks.

Opportunities:

Limited—escalation erodes diplomatic trust, and post-conflict reconstruction becomes costlier.

Scenario C: De-escalation & Corridor Deal

Features: Negotiated Red Sea access agreement, no regime change; inclusive peace process involving internal Ethiopian actors.

Risks:

Compromise is perceived as a domestic political weakness.

Fragile implementation if trust between parties is not institutionalised.

Opportunities:

Long-term stability, economic integration, and infrastructure investment in the Red Sea corridor.

Boost to Ethiopia’s regional diplomacy and Eritrea’s economic diversification.

3. Strategic Objectives

For Ethiopia:

Secure uninterrupted maritime access without provoking a regional coalition against it.

Reduce domestic insurgencies to free military and political capital for external negotiations.

Maintain flexible alliances with Gulf states, Turkey, and global powers.

For Eritrea:

Preserve sovereignty and territorial integrity while extracting economic and political concessions.

Avoid overdependence on single external patrons (Egypt, Iran, Russia).

Position as a regional trade partner rather than an isolated security state.

For External Stakeholders:

Ensure freedom of navigation in the Bab el-Mandeb.

Prevent proxy escalation that undermines economic corridors.

Promote inclusive regional diplomacy by integrating Horn states into maritime security frameworks.

4. Policy Recommendations

Ethiopia

1. Two-Track Strategy:

Track 1: Engage in Red Sea access negotiations mediated by the UAE, Saudi Arabia, or China.

Track 2: Launch an inclusive national dialogue with OFC, TPLF, and Oromo leaders to undercut insurgent leverage.

2. Defensive Diplomacy:

Strengthen naval and coastal capacity through joint training with Turkey and neutral Gulf actors.

3. Economic Incentives:

Propose shared revenue arrangements for the Assab trade to reduce Eritrean resistance.

Eritrea

1. Diplomatic Hedging:

Avoid exclusive alignment with anti-Ethiopian coalitions to retain room for negotiation.

2. Port Development Partnerships:

Offer Assab as part of regional trade agreements rather than a zero-sum asset.

3. Domestic Stability:

Undertake modest internal reforms to reduce vulnerability to external regime-change narratives.

External Stakeholders

1. Red Sea Security Forum:

Establish a multilateral security coordination body that includes Ethiopia, Eritrea, the Gulf states, and the great powers.

2. Infrastructure Guarantees:

Invest in port and corridor development, conditional on peaceful dispute settlement.

3. Conflict Early-Warning Mechanisms:

Fund regional intelligence-sharing platforms to prevent accidental escalation.

5. Conclusion

The Ethiopia–Eritrea dispute over Assab is not simply a bilateral maritime issue—it is a flashpoint with the potential to reconfigure alliances across Africa, the Middle East, and global maritime trade. The scenario models make clear that Ethiopia’s success depends on coupling external diplomacy with internal stabilisation. For Eritrea, avoiding total alignment with any one bloc increases bargaining power. For global and regional powers, neutrality and mediation are not just strategic choices but imperatives to prevent a proxy war in one of the world’s most critical maritime corridors.

Prosperity Party’s “Three Tangible Changes”: Rhetoric Outrunning Reality.

Prosperity Party’s “Three Tangible Changes”: Rhetoric Outrunning Reality.

By Habtamu Nini Abino

The Prosperity Party Council is patting itself on the back for “three tangible changes” on national agendas—political and economic reform, Nile diplomacy, and sea access ambitions. But beneath the confident tone lies a mix of half-truths, strategic framing, and political self-congratulation.

First, political and economic “reform” has been uneven at best. Early promises of open politics led to crackdowns, mass arrests, and media restrictions. On the economic front, inflation, foreign currency shortages, and high unemployment persist. IMF-driven liberalisation has yet to produce tangible benefits for ordinary Ethiopians. Calling this a narrowing of “internal vulnerability” is political spin, not evidence.

Second, on the Nile, Ethiopia’s progress on the GERD is a fundamental assertion of sovereignty. Yet, unilateral filling has left relations with Egypt and Sudan tense, with no binding water-sharing deal in sight. What could have been a tool of regional integration is now a diplomatic stalemate—Ethiopia may have gained leverage but lost trust.

Third, the “natural and historical right” to sea access is a bold talking point, but in international law, rights are negotiated, not inherited. Ethiopia risks alarming neighbours and inviting foreign interference by globalising the Red Sea agenda without securing regional consensus. What’s framed as strategic ambition could quickly turn into a security headache.

In short, the Prosperity Party’s narrative projects strength and nationalist resolve. But without inclusive governance, credible diplomacy, and concrete economic results, these “three tangible changes” risk becoming little more than a political slogan—a distraction from the unresolved deep domestic crises.

Real change requires more than bold words; it demands steady, principled, and cooperative statecraft.

The Rise of Mo’a Thewahido Doctrine: Religious Nationalism and the Future of Ethiopia

The Rise of Mo’a Thewahido Doctrine: Religious Nationalism and the Future of Ethiopia

By Habtamu Nini Abino

In recent remarks given to Roha Media, Fantahun Wake—an Orthodox Church religious teacher and a key ideological voice within the Amhara Fano movement—declared that the driving political doctrine behind the Fano armed struggle is “Mo’a Thewahido”, meaning “Orthodox is the winner.” According to Wake, the objective of the Fano movement is not merely to advocate for Amhara rights or freedom, but to establish a government in Ethiopia guided by Orthodox Christian doctrine, akin to religious regimes in countries like Saudi Arabia and Iran. This ideology marks a dangerous fusion of militant nationalism and theocratic ambition, threatening both Ethiopia’s constitutional order and its multi-religious, multi-ethnic federal framework.

Fantahun Wake leader of Mo'a Tewahedo. 

1. Understanding Mo’a Thewahido: From Faith to Political Ideology

The term Mo’a Thewahido historically refers to a deeply spiritual and theological principle within the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church, emphasising the unity of Christ’s divine and human natures. However, Fantahun Wake and his ideological allies have politicised this concept, converting it into a militant nationalist creed. Under this reinterpretation, the Orthodox Church is no longer just a spiritual institution but becomes the central authority for political legitimacy and governance. This marks a dangerous departure from Ethiopia’s secular constitutional order, moving toward the model of a religious state where dissenting beliefs and identities could be delegitimised or suppressed.

2. Religious Theocracy vs. Secular Constitutionalism

Ethiopia’s federal constitution, adopted in 1994, recognises the equality of all nations, nationalities, and peoples, and affirms the state's secular character. It guarantees freedom of religion and protects cultural and linguistic diversity. By design, a government based on Orthodox theology would contradict this pluralistic framework.

Religious theocracies, like those seen in Iran or Saudi Arabia, have historically resulted in the institutional oppression of minorities, suppression of dissent, and marginalisation of women and non-adherents. Implementing a similar model in Ethiopia would not only violate the constitutional rights of Muslims, Protestants, Waaqeffannaa followers, Catholics, and non-believers, but it would also unravel the already fragile social fabric of the Ethiopian state.

3. Amhara Nationalism and the Weaponisation of Religion

The Fano movement emerged in response to perceived marginalisation and security threats facing the Amhara people. While the defence of communal rights is legitimate within a federal system, the transformation of this movement into a vehicle for religious domination reveals a darker agenda. By wrapping Amhara nationalism in Orthodox theology, leaders like Fantahun Wake attempt to reassert a historical dominance reminiscent of the imperial era when state and church operated hand-in-hand to maintain centralist hegemony.

This is a nostalgic return to the past and an attempt to revive a feudal-imperial identity cloaked in religious absolutism. It seeks to undermine the hard-won recognition of ethno-linguistic rights and erase the diversity of belief and identity that defines modern Ethiopia.

4. Implications for National Unity and Regional Stability

Ethiopia is beset by ethnic conflict, economic instability, and authoritarian governance. The rise of a religious-political ideology such as Mo’a Thewahido risks further polarisation. Oromos, Sidamas, Afars, Somalis, and many others will not accept a system that enshrines one religion and one ethnic group as superior. It will almost certainly trigger resistance, deepen national disintegration, and provoke further international condemnation.

Moreover, Ethiopia’s neighbours and international partners would view a theocratic shift as a step toward regional destabilisation. Theocratic radicalism masquerading as nationalist liberation would imperil Ethiopia’s diplomatic, peacekeeping, and trade partner roles.

5. Conclusion: The Path Forward

Fantahun Wake’s advocacy for a theocratic Orthodox-Amhara regime under the Mo’a Thewahido ideology is a direct challenge to Ethiopia’s secular, federal, and democratic aspirations. It is a call for religious supremacy, not national salvation. The international community, domestic civil society, and pro-democracy actors must take this threat seriously.

Ethiopia needs not a religious dictatorship but a renewed social contract, grounded in equality, the rule of law, and mutual respect among its diverse peoples. The path to peace and stability lies in inclusive governance, not in a theocratic vision that isolates and excludes the majority.

Religious nationalism, no matter how sacred its symbols, must be resisted wherever it threatens to become the engine of tyranny.

Habtamu Nini Abino is the author of "The Second Republic and the Politics of Article 39 in Ethiopia" and "Liberal Democracy and the Constitution of 1994: The User’s Handbook."

Part  2

 Mo’a Tewahedo and the Collapse of Myth: Unmasking the Religious-Political Cult of Ethiopia’s Extremist Unravellings

The unraveling of Mo’a Tewahedo — an ideological movement embedded within Ethiopian Orthodox extremism and Amhara ethno-nationalism — has reached a moment of reckoning. According to revelations by journalist Meaza Mohammed and spiritual dissident Mamihir Fantahun Waqe, the Mo’a Tewahedo structure is not a religious institution in the traditional sense, but a clandestine political cult masquerading as sacred tradition. It thrives on historical deceit, theological fraud, and ethnic manipulation. Its ultimate mission: to re-establish a fraudulent Solomonic order by appropriating religious symbols, distorting, and weaponising Orthoanalyseshis essay analyses the complex mythology surrounding Mo’a Tewahedo, its alleged violent instrument FANO, and the identity crisis of its supposed foot soldiers — particularly Mamihir Fantahun Waqe himself — to show how the movement's foundation is not only built on falsehood but is collapsing under the weight of its own contradictions.

1. Mo’a Tewahedo: Religion or Cult of Power?

In public perception, “Mo’a Tewahedo” invokes the deeply revered Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church. But the Mo’a Tewahedo exposed in this discourse is a deviation — an extremist ideology clothed in religion but fundamentally aimed at resurrecting an ethno-theocratic state under a Solomonic illusion.

Meaza Mohammed’s testimony points to a secretive network of operatives — including figures like “Moa Anbessa” — who served within government and military institutions while pledging loyalty to a hidden religious-political agenda. This agenda was never about spiritual salvation, but about restoring a monarchy infused with Orthodox symbols and Amhara supremacy. Meaza’s account suggests that these actors manipulated even Fantahun Waqe, an alleged insider, until the truth caught up with him.

2. The Ethnic Illusion and the Mo’a Paradox

A central paradox emerges: Isn’t Fantahun Waqe himself Oromdestabilisesstion destabilises the rigid ethnic framework within which Mo’a Tewahedo operates. Those involved claim to transcend ethnicity through “Mo’a Gez” ideology, yet they actively promote an Amhara-coded nationalism based on Solomonic and Judaic mysticism. Fantahun's own Oromo roots contradict the narrative of an ethnically homogenous vanguard. So do historical claims that even Emperor Haile Selassie himself was of Oromo descent — yet led an imperial regime under the name of the It becomes clear that Mo’a Tewahedo, like the Solomonic narrative it appropriates, erases and re-engineers identities to fit a political theology. It is not Amhara identity that drives the movement, but a supremacist mythology that exploits the Amhara name and Orthodox faith to dominate and manipulate.

3. Orthodoxy as a Political Weapon

According to Meaza Mohammed, the Orthodox Church has been instrumentalised. Leaders wear black not for mourning alone,  but under command, symbolic of the Mo’a structure’s control. The religious dress code, chants, liturgies, and public processions are all tools in a campaign of political reprogramming and organisation that has allegedly been preparing for 44 years, waiting for the right time to “restore Tazlo to his throne” — in other words, to reinstall an imperial system disguised as divine redemption. But Orthodoxy itself, as Meaza notes, is now in a state of being weaponised by Mo’a’s cultic order. Even devout believers are waking up to the manipulation.

4. The Fraud of Solomonic Descent

The historical claim that the Amhara people are descendants of King Solomon has long been central to imperial Ethiopian propaganda. But this claim is increasingly emphasised. Meaza emphasises, “Amhara is not a Solomonic descendant.” The supposed Judaic heritage of the monarchy — embodied in the myth of the Queen of Sheba and Menelik — is not supported by factual lineage but fabricated to sanctify political domination.

This theological marginalisation marginalised non-Amhara groups, particularly the Oromo, Tigrayans, and Muslims, whose historical agency was presumed under the pretence of divine hierarchy. The Solomonic legacy, therefore, is not a spiritual heritage but a political project rooted in ethnic and religious exclusion.

5. The Self-Destruction of FANO and the Cult of Violence

FANO, the paramilitary group tied to Mo’a Tewahedo ideology, symbolises both resistance and ruin. As Meaza reveals, the cruelty and violence it commits are not spontaneous acts, but rituals of vengeance derived from the cult’s foundational mythology. “The spirit of cruelty has destroyed us since Moa came to power through 800 years of fraud,” she writes. FANO’s legacy is not the liberation of the Amhara people, but the spiritual and physical destruction of its own youth, driven to die for a false kingdom.

6. The Collapse of the Mo’a Illusion

The tragedy is not just political — it is existential. Mo’a has convinced many to die for a myth. Meaza's reflection — “Orthodoxy is being robbed, and now it is dying” — is both literal and symbolic. The cannibalising itself. Even Fantahun Waqe, once a spiritual authority within this structure, now seems to be awakening to its deception.

The call to “return to your homes where you knew the plot of Moa” is a moral reckoning. Ethiopian youth, Amhara Muslims, Protestant Amharas, and Oromo citizens must reject the myth that has turned them against one another in the name of a lost empire that never was.

Conclusion: A Way Forward Beyond the Mo’a Mirage

Ethiopia’s healing depends on burying the myth of Solomonic supremacy and dismantling the ideological scaffolding. It requires honesty about history, courage to break with inherited dogmas, and solidarity among Ethiopians of all faiths and ethnicities.

As Meaza Mohammed says, “Fantahun Waqe Waqa Yawqlhal” — even Fantahun knows now. May others follow.

By: Habtamu Nini Abino

Author and Political Analyst | Advocate for Federal Democracy and Oromo Rights

Tariffs, Trump, and the Illusion of Greatness: A Closer Look at America’s Economic Nationalism

Tariffs, Trump, and the Illusion of Greatness: A Closer Look at America’s Economic Nationalism

📅 By Habtamu Nini Abino

📍 Published: July 31, 2025

Introduction

Now serving as the 47th President of the United States, Donald J. Trump has reintroduced a key pillar of his economic agenda: tariffs. In a widely circulated Truth Social post, President Trump triumphantly declared that tariffs are “making America GREAT & RICH again,” asserting that the U.S. has transformed from a “dead country” to the “hottest” economy in the world in just one year.

Like much of Trump’s rhetoric, this bold and captivating claim warrants a sober and critical examination. Are tariffs truly the engine of America’s resurgence? Or are they a political mirage masking more profound economic distortions?

The Return of Economic Nationalism

President Trump’s worldview has long rested on economic nationalism—a belief that the U.S. has been exploited through globalisation and that the path to national greatness lies in protecting American industries from foreign competition. In his narrative, tariffs are not just tools of trade—they are symbols of sovereignty, pride, and economic justice.

But the reality is more complex. Tariffs are taxes on imports, and their effects ripple across supply chains, consumer prices, and global diplomatic relations. They are rarely neutral and rarely without unintended consequences.

Tariffs as Taxes, Not Magic

Trumpian rhetoric paints tariffs as a cure-all, but they function as regressive consumption taxes that affect ordinary consumers. During Trump’s first term, multiple studies—including those by the Peterson Institute and the Federal Reserve—found that his tariff regime raised costs for U.S. households by hundreds of dollars per year and hurt exporters caught in retaliatory measures.

In 2025, we’re seeing similar patterns:

Auto manufacturers report higher production costs due to tariffs on steel and aluminium.

Farmers face unstable foreign markets as China, the EU, and others retaliate.

Retail prices on electronics, tools, and home goods remain high due to ongoing tariffs on Chinese goods.

While some domestic industries gain temporary protection, the net effect is increased inefficiency, consumer burden, and geopolitical tension.

Tariffs as Foreign Policy Weapons

President Trump is not only using tariffs as economic tools—he’s weaponising them to pursue foreign policy goals. In recent months, his administration has:

Threatened trade penalties against Canada for recognising the Palestinian state.

Expanded tariffs on Chinese high-tech goods, intensifying the tech war.

Signalled a potential review of AGOA benefits to African nations that oppose U.S. policy.

This transactional approach to trade undermines multilateral institutions like the WTO and reshapes diplomacy into a loyalty test. It risks turning the U.S. from a global rule-maker into a unilateral enforcer, alienating long-standing allies and partners.

Is the U.S. Economy Really Booming?

Trump declares that America is now the “hottest country in the world.” Economically, the U.S. has shown strength in 2025—GDP growth is steady, and innovation in AI and clean tech is thriving. But the driving forces of that success are structural, not tariff-induced:

Post-pandemic resilience

High investment in automation, data, and digital infrastructure

Labour market recovery, especially in services and tech

Tariffs may marginally improve trade balances, but do not explain broader trends. If anything, they distort long-term competitiveness by inviting inefficiencies and inflating prices.

Conclusion:

 Between Political Showmanship and Economic Reality

Tariffs may serve as political theatre—loud, visible, and emotionally satisfying—but their real economic outcomes are uneven and often counterproductive. They can protect specific sectors, but they also stoke inflation, harm diplomatic ties, and weaken global economic cooperation.

President Trump’s revival of protectionism appeals to a population frustrated with inequality and economic insecurity. However, real national strength comes not from punishing imports but investing in innovation, skills, resilience, and alliances.

While the illusion of greatness may win elections, only substance and strategy can sustain prosperity.

✍️ About the Author

Habtamu Nini Abino is a legal scholar, author, and former Secretary General of Ethiopia’s House of Federation. He writes on international politics, trade, governance, and constitutional reform. His recent works include The Second Republic and the Politics of Article 39 in Ethiopia and Liberal Democracy and the Constitution of 1994: The User's Handbook.

 

Ethiopia’s Glass: Half Full, Half Empty — A Nation at the Crossroads

🇪🇹 Ethiopia’s Glass: Half Full, Half Empty — A Nation at the Crossroads

By Habtamu Nini Abino
July 31, 2025

In the discourse of development, democracy, and national identity, few metaphors capture the Ethiopian dilemma more accurately than the proverbial question: Is the glass half full or half empty? This simple analogy — often used to reveal a person’s optimism or pessimism — has profound relevance for a country like Ethiopia, where promise and peril constantly coexist.

Ethiopia is undoubtedly half full with a population exceeding 120 million, abundant natural resources, and a strategic location in the Horn of Africa. Yet, deep-rooted ethnic divisions, fragile institutions, chronic instability, and persistent poverty remind us that the glass is also half empty. The question is not which view is correct but which mindset will guide Ethiopia’s political future.

The Half Full Ethiopia: A Country of Potential

To speak of Ethiopia as "half full" is not delusion; it is reality. Despite regional tensions, the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD) symbolises national pride and technological progress. The country's expanding road and energy infrastructure, the growing urban middle class, and the resilience of its youth offer real hope.

Furthermore, Ethiopia’s constitutional framework — with its federalist structure and commitment to self-rule — was once hailed as a bold experiment in managing diversity. In theory, it granted historically marginalised groups the right to self-govern, preserve culture, and share power within a unified state. It was an African attempt at inclusive governance.

These achievements represent the water in the glass — hard-earned, precious, and real.

The Half Empty Ethiopia: A State in Perpetual Crisis

But the other half — the empty part—can not be ignored. Ethiopia has not seen a year without significant conflict in over a decade. From Tigray to Oromia to Amhara, the federal compact has eroded into suspicion, rebellion, and bloodshed. The dream of unity in diversity has been replaced by zero-sum politics, where one group’s gain is another’s fear.

The Prosperity Party’s centralising ambitions and the remnants of EPRDF-era authoritarianism have undermined democratic transition. Institutions remain weak, elections contested, and dialogue replaced with drones and repression. Federalism, once seen as a solution, is now weaponised to fragment or dominate, depending on who holds power.

The glass is empty of political violence, economic dislocation, brain drain, and a growing loss of national confidence.

Beyond Optimism or Pessimism: Toward National Realism

The danger lies in choosing only one view.

Those who see Ethiopia as only half full often fall into denialism, claiming, “We are on the right path,” even as civil war erupts. Conversely, those who see only emptiness lose all faith in reform, becoming nihilistic or isolationist.

Ethiopia needs national realism: the courage to acknowledge failure and the wisdom to build on strengths. Realism means recognising that constitutional reform is necessary, not to erase the federal principle, but to ensure that it delivers autonomy and accountability. It means empowering institutions that are above ethnicity and beyond ideology.

It also means building a culture of shared sacrifice rather than perpetual grievance. The question must move from “What has my group gained or lost?” to “How do we fill the rest of the glass — together?”

Conclusion: The Political Future of a Divided Nation

Ethiopia is neither a failed state nor a functioning democracy. It is a fragile republic standing on a battlefield between history and hope. The half-full part of the Ethiopian glass reminds us of what is possible; the half-empty part warns us of what may come if we continue on the current trajectory.

The glass is there. It holds both pain and promise. The time has come not to argue about its fullness or emptiness — but to decide, as a nation, how to fill it with justice, peace, and shared prosperity.

Habtamu Nini Abino is a legal scholar, author, and former Ethiopian House of Federation secretary general. He regularly writes on constitutional law, federalism, and governance in Africa.