Tiptoeing Around the 2000 Pound Gorilla in Our Living Room
I first came to Addis in the mid-1960s to attend Bede Mariam Laboratory School on the campus of what was then HSIU as a seventeen year old high school senior. I was raised in a small farming town and went to school in a provincial capital which did not enjoy piped water or electricity until the year before I left for Addis. So, when I arrived in Addis my senses were overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of everything new in the big city. From high rise buildings to paved shinny roads, from flashing neon lights offering all sorts of tempting goodies to the endless stream of traffic on the roads – everything I saw, everything I came across as I explored the streets of Addis was new. The experience was exciting and intimidating all at the same time.
I was excited to be in the middle of all of the action. My excitement was further enhanced with the knowledge that what is keeping me from being one of the big city boys was only my age. Like all college bound young men of the day, I knew that in time I would be one of them – a big city cat. But part of me was also scared because I was an outsider not familiar with the ways of the city people. I have never seen more than one car at a time. If truth be told, the only time I rode on a wheeled means of transportation was when I took the bus to come to Addis. So there was plenty to spook me. I was scared of crossing the street. I was scared of city folks cheating me out of what little money I had. I was scared because I stood out like a sore thumb with the way I was dressed and the way I gawked at everything. City folks looked to be so all-knowing cool. Even the students who came from other provinces seemed to be hip and much more knowledgeable of the ways of the city. (I promise this is not really about me. I am actually going to make a point about the current conditions in our country.)
When school opened on September 28 as it always did back then, thousands of students flooded the campus, a few of us belonging to Bede Mariam, most of them attending the university proper. As we shared the same campus and facilities with university students, I was in awe with my surroundings. Although I did relatively well in the classroom from day one, I felt as though I was not ready for college. Intelligent and purposeful discussions on the fate of our country pervaded the entire campus. Much of what was talked about in formal and informal settings seemed to be well beyond my grasp. The key doctrines which under gird the endless discussions among students were totally alien to me. I felt doubly ashamed both because I had not read any of the doctrinal material which was obviously well known to everyone else but also because I could not intuitively follow much of the logic of the student debates.
I found two particular threads in these debates to be especially bothersome. One thread was engaged in a discussion of the relative suitability of three alternative political systems for organizing Ethiopia’s social, economic and political affairs. In point of fact, there was little real discussion on the nature and merits of the traditional feudal system. Observations on feudalism were made only to serve as points of departure for highlighting the virtues of one or the other of the modern alternatives. So the debates boiled down to whether our country would be best served by transition to capitalism or socialism. It seemed to me that the most confident and enlightened among the students had already made up their minds on two related points. These individuals, of whom I must admit I was in awe, eloquently articulated the view that the country had already transitioned or was well on the way to transitioning to capitalism and that capitalism was incapable of resolving the peculiar problems Ethiopia was facing at the time.
The second thread deliberated on the issue of Ethiopia’s nationalities. Most discussants sought to explore alternative approaches to ending all vestiges of unequal or exploitative relationships among and between Ethiopia’s diverse people. A vocal minority championed the Leninist doctrine regarding the rights of Ethiopia’s nationalities to determine for themselves whether they wish to continue to be part of the Ethiopian state and what role the Ethiopian state would have in their lives if they chose to stay a part of it.
None of these arguments sat well with me. Yet I sat quietly through countless hours of debate. By the Christmas break, I had decided that I did not have what it takes to be in the company of these bright young men (few women in their company) who impressed me with the breadth and depth of their knowledge of things that I never had the occasion to contemplate. So, like many other students, I stepped aside and left the playing field to those who were engaged in a debate about the future of my country, my future, even though much of what they said grated on my sensibilities.
I did not understand nor feel right with the emerging consensus that our traditional system must be thrown out in its entirety instead of being reformed. I did not understand or feel right that no one was exploring whether it would not be either possible or preferable to fix those aspects of that system which make it difficult for more Ethiopians to enjoy greater liberty and more prosperity and to retain those aspects which defined our national character and represented the sum total of our shared experiences as a people and as a country. I did not understand why these bright young men believed that the best alternative to our traditional system must be the one system which affords its citizens even less individual liberties and less room for personal ambitions just because it held the promise for the quickest transformation of the country from a traditional agrarian society to a modern industrial one. I did not feel that socialism was the best choice for my country and for me. Yet, I did not express my sentiments for I did not believe I had anything worthy of sharing with such very enlightened company.
What I found even more bizarre was the very notion that it was ok for a nation to splinter into any number of little Bantustans instead of working on resolving any inter-community grievances. As a child, of the many stories I read in those Amharic readers (yeminibab metsahift), nothing caught my attention or stimulated my senses like the stories which were meant to nurture patriotism and love of country. I found particularly enjoyable such books as “Araya”, “Ato Temachu” and the like, which recount historically accurate fictionalized events of what our ancestors had to do to keep the country intact and to fend off invaders. Throughout my childhood, when I read one of those stories, I would dream of taking part in a campaign to help save my country or to assist a hero facing a particularly difficult situation. Like many children of my time, I was raised and taught that I had a duty to defend my country from all enemies foreign or domestic. Consequently, I found the very idea of secession to be obscene and not appropriate for debate among Ethiopia’s most privileged group of young people. But, I said nothing because I believed those who spoke with such confidence and swagger either knew something which was beyond my limits of comprehension or would shout me down and expose me as the imbecile that I might be.
It took ten more years of growing on my part and observing the country descended into a gut wrenching fratricide for me to realize that my intuitions were right on the mark in the first place. Thirty more years later today nearly all Ethiopians agree not only with my surmise that socialism was an utter failure but also with my belief that we should not have kept quiet and allowed those bright, brave and naïve young men to take us down a path that they did not fully understood and we did not fully agree to. I now hold a firm belief that I should have stood up and shouted down those hot heads when I first heard that foolishness. I also believe that there was a real chance to cut all of that experimental foolishness in the bud. What is more, if the sentiments of my circle of friends are any indication, most Ethiopians have also surmised as such.
At about the time the socialist revolution got in full swing, the country descended into a complex multi-pronged civil war. Among the protagonists were those who had been articulating the Leninist doctrine and advocating dumping the traditional feudal system in lieu of socialism. Just when the country was on course to join the world socialist movement, these people went to the bush for all sorts of reasons including for the declared purposes of “liberating their nations” or fighting for a more perfect form of socialism. Then it all began to make sense. I had it right all along. The end game of those who spoke so eloquently and tirelessly about a people’s right to self-determination had always been secession and not liberation. Their driving ambition might as well have been the breakup of Ethiopia in to several smaller fiefdoms for the purpose of providing more ego maniacal individuals with more chances for lordship.
Why is this story worth telling today?
Right about now, if you have not already quit on me, you are probably asking why I bring up this nearly forty years old story when today the country is in the throes of another convulsion. The short answer is this. We are once again at the cusp of another radical transition and once again I am beginning to feel uneasy about key threads in our national discourse. I can list several areas of concern but I will limit myself in this post to just one issue regarding which we need to come together in short order lest we lose another opportunity to avert another ye-igir-isat.
Nearly forty years after I first came to Addis, my hair is mostly gone and my teeth will soon follow. I have gone more than once around the globe and feel more secure with my instincts. I refuse to hold back when I see wrong done to the country and to the people I love dearly just because somebody might disagree with me. I no longer fear other men. I fear only my God and our forefathers who might be looking down at all of us. So, I will speak my mind. Besides, one good thing about cyberspace is that I can get things off my chest without being booed or shouted down. So here it is. The first issue which has me worried is the Oromo Liberation Front. Its name and its propaganda grate badly on me.
The name of any organization is its trade mark, the carefully crafted catchphrase that is meant to tell a great deal about the nature and purpose of an organization. It is for this reason that many organizations jealously guard and protect their names through registered copyrights and trademarks. I do believe, therefore, that the Oromo Liberation Front selected its name carefully because it describes its mission, its vision and its purpose well.
On my part, when I hear the name Oromo Liberation Front many questions and much discomfort pops in my head. First among these are the questions: liberation for whom and liberation from what? I am astute enough to know what a liberation organization does. Just the same, out of basic respect for the right all people have to define their mission and ambition, I referred to the official documents of the OLF. These documents state that the mission of the OLF is “to lead the national liberation struggle of the Oromo people against the Abyssinian colonial rule.”
It is all right there, in black and white. I know our people are as good as any when it comes to playing with words. So, I am sure there are many interpretations of this credo doled out by the OLF depending who they are talking to. Yet when you strip all the semantics away, what is left is an organization which defines its mission in exactly the same terms as the ELF and EPLF did when they set out to break up Ethiopia. Reasonable people can only surmise that the ultimate purpose of the OLF, its rason d’etre, is to bring about the secession of Oromia from Ethiopia.
Once during my second year at HSIU (which in my case meant during my freshman year), I got the courage to ask one of those all knowing Maharajas why the rest of us should be supporting or even standing idly by when it was obvious that the Eritrean students were only interested in breaking up our country. He responded by asking me why I would wish them to share in our misery instead of letting them break free and fend for themselves. Others told me that the threat of secession was actually a negotiating ploy intended to force the masters of the feudal system to loosen their grip rather than an expression of a real desire to permanently separate from Ethiopia.
I am sure these days there are equally noble and high sounding reasons offered to explain why we should all focus on the main problem confronting Ethiopia today instead of being sidetracked by the minutiae in the political philosophy of one of the opposition organizations fighting the common enemy of the Ethiopian people. I am aware that the OLF is one of those angafa organizations of the land whose motives and methods an ordinary mortal like me is not supposed to question. However, I sense that I am being set up to fall into the same snare for the second time.
I ask my fellow Ethiopians if we are willing to yet again sit quietly and watch the same disastrous scene replayed once again? I, for one, am not going to be tiptoeing around the 2000 pound gorilla sitting in the living room and pretend that it is not there. I am not a bright eyed seventeen year old innocent child from the farm anymore. I have been bitten by this snake once before. I insist that we address it and address it now.
I find the very idea of an Ethiopian liberation front that does not seek to fight for all oppressed Ethiopians to be rather offensive to my sense of citizenship. I also find any suggestion that I have no right to speak on this matter except if I were an Oromo to be an affront to my intellect. Speaking of the Oromo identity, I find the OLF’s notion of what constitutes the land of the Oromo to be an affront to the right of a people to self-determination it recites ad nauseum in its manifesto.
I was reassured by comments made about the OLF both by Ato Bulcha Demeksa and Dr. Merera Gudena during the debates which preceded the 2005 election. Ato Bulcha emphatically stated that the political agenda of his organization differed from that of the OLF only on their respective choices of the method of struggle – armed struggle vs. peaceful and legal struggle. Dr. Merera essentially characterized the OLF in the same terms – a body fighting for the rights of the Oromo to enjoy democratic rights and to be free of poverty within the Ethiopian state. If these prominent Oromo personalities have it right, then millions of other Ethiopians can be reassured that the OLF is a friend and not a foe.
That said, the OLF has yet to clarify its purpose, its mission and its positions to the Ethiopian people. It is up to that organization to spell out its vision for Ethiopia in the clearest terms instead of cloaking it in the language of Leninist double-speak. The fact that we are fighting to liberate ourselves from an oppressive minority fascist clique does not mean that we can or should ignore other festering problems. The fact that Mr. Meles is an equal opportunity oppressor, terrorizing every village and every town in Ethiopia, does not mean that we should not pay attention to the machinations of lesser evils who stand to destabilize our country tomorrow.
It is up to the OLF to decide whether it is ready to join the Ethiopian people in the fight against tyranny. Alternatively, it could continue its current effort to use this crisis purely for its partisan advantage and for the purpose of boosting its partisan capabilities. It could continue to paint the crises presently engulfing our country as a fight between the government of Ethiopia and the Oromo people as if all other Ethiopians are either exempt from tyranny or worse, are siding with the government and taking part in the persecution of the Oromo people.
Regrettably, the OLF has been successful in casting the current crisis in Ethiopia as a conflict between the Oromo on the one side and all other people on the other side. So successful that even reporters and academics are beginning to characterize it as such. You hear international human rights campaigners and high ranking officials of foreign governments reporting the carnage perpetrated by the EPRDF regime across the country as crimes committed against the Oromo people.
I was excited to be in the middle of all of the action. My excitement was further enhanced with the knowledge that what is keeping me from being one of the big city boys was only my age. Like all college bound young men of the day, I knew that in time I would be one of them – a big city cat. But part of me was also scared because I was an outsider not familiar with the ways of the city people. I have never seen more than one car at a time. If truth be told, the only time I rode on a wheeled means of transportation was when I took the bus to come to Addis. So there was plenty to spook me. I was scared of crossing the street. I was scared of city folks cheating me out of what little money I had. I was scared because I stood out like a sore thumb with the way I was dressed and the way I gawked at everything. City folks looked to be so all-knowing cool. Even the students who came from other provinces seemed to be hip and much more knowledgeable of the ways of the city. (I promise this is not really about me. I am actually going to make a point about the current conditions in our country.)
When school opened on September 28 as it always did back then, thousands of students flooded the campus, a few of us belonging to Bede Mariam, most of them attending the university proper. As we shared the same campus and facilities with university students, I was in awe with my surroundings. Although I did relatively well in the classroom from day one, I felt as though I was not ready for college. Intelligent and purposeful discussions on the fate of our country pervaded the entire campus. Much of what was talked about in formal and informal settings seemed to be well beyond my grasp. The key doctrines which under gird the endless discussions among students were totally alien to me. I felt doubly ashamed both because I had not read any of the doctrinal material which was obviously well known to everyone else but also because I could not intuitively follow much of the logic of the student debates.
I found two particular threads in these debates to be especially bothersome. One thread was engaged in a discussion of the relative suitability of three alternative political systems for organizing Ethiopia’s social, economic and political affairs. In point of fact, there was little real discussion on the nature and merits of the traditional feudal system. Observations on feudalism were made only to serve as points of departure for highlighting the virtues of one or the other of the modern alternatives. So the debates boiled down to whether our country would be best served by transition to capitalism or socialism. It seemed to me that the most confident and enlightened among the students had already made up their minds on two related points. These individuals, of whom I must admit I was in awe, eloquently articulated the view that the country had already transitioned or was well on the way to transitioning to capitalism and that capitalism was incapable of resolving the peculiar problems Ethiopia was facing at the time.
The second thread deliberated on the issue of Ethiopia’s nationalities. Most discussants sought to explore alternative approaches to ending all vestiges of unequal or exploitative relationships among and between Ethiopia’s diverse people. A vocal minority championed the Leninist doctrine regarding the rights of Ethiopia’s nationalities to determine for themselves whether they wish to continue to be part of the Ethiopian state and what role the Ethiopian state would have in their lives if they chose to stay a part of it.
None of these arguments sat well with me. Yet I sat quietly through countless hours of debate. By the Christmas break, I had decided that I did not have what it takes to be in the company of these bright young men (few women in their company) who impressed me with the breadth and depth of their knowledge of things that I never had the occasion to contemplate. So, like many other students, I stepped aside and left the playing field to those who were engaged in a debate about the future of my country, my future, even though much of what they said grated on my sensibilities.
I did not understand nor feel right with the emerging consensus that our traditional system must be thrown out in its entirety instead of being reformed. I did not understand or feel right that no one was exploring whether it would not be either possible or preferable to fix those aspects of that system which make it difficult for more Ethiopians to enjoy greater liberty and more prosperity and to retain those aspects which defined our national character and represented the sum total of our shared experiences as a people and as a country. I did not understand why these bright young men believed that the best alternative to our traditional system must be the one system which affords its citizens even less individual liberties and less room for personal ambitions just because it held the promise for the quickest transformation of the country from a traditional agrarian society to a modern industrial one. I did not feel that socialism was the best choice for my country and for me. Yet, I did not express my sentiments for I did not believe I had anything worthy of sharing with such very enlightened company.
What I found even more bizarre was the very notion that it was ok for a nation to splinter into any number of little Bantustans instead of working on resolving any inter-community grievances. As a child, of the many stories I read in those Amharic readers (yeminibab metsahift), nothing caught my attention or stimulated my senses like the stories which were meant to nurture patriotism and love of country. I found particularly enjoyable such books as “Araya”, “Ato Temachu” and the like, which recount historically accurate fictionalized events of what our ancestors had to do to keep the country intact and to fend off invaders. Throughout my childhood, when I read one of those stories, I would dream of taking part in a campaign to help save my country or to assist a hero facing a particularly difficult situation. Like many children of my time, I was raised and taught that I had a duty to defend my country from all enemies foreign or domestic. Consequently, I found the very idea of secession to be obscene and not appropriate for debate among Ethiopia’s most privileged group of young people. But, I said nothing because I believed those who spoke with such confidence and swagger either knew something which was beyond my limits of comprehension or would shout me down and expose me as the imbecile that I might be.
It took ten more years of growing on my part and observing the country descended into a gut wrenching fratricide for me to realize that my intuitions were right on the mark in the first place. Thirty more years later today nearly all Ethiopians agree not only with my surmise that socialism was an utter failure but also with my belief that we should not have kept quiet and allowed those bright, brave and naïve young men to take us down a path that they did not fully understood and we did not fully agree to. I now hold a firm belief that I should have stood up and shouted down those hot heads when I first heard that foolishness. I also believe that there was a real chance to cut all of that experimental foolishness in the bud. What is more, if the sentiments of my circle of friends are any indication, most Ethiopians have also surmised as such.
At about the time the socialist revolution got in full swing, the country descended into a complex multi-pronged civil war. Among the protagonists were those who had been articulating the Leninist doctrine and advocating dumping the traditional feudal system in lieu of socialism. Just when the country was on course to join the world socialist movement, these people went to the bush for all sorts of reasons including for the declared purposes of “liberating their nations” or fighting for a more perfect form of socialism. Then it all began to make sense. I had it right all along. The end game of those who spoke so eloquently and tirelessly about a people’s right to self-determination had always been secession and not liberation. Their driving ambition might as well have been the breakup of Ethiopia in to several smaller fiefdoms for the purpose of providing more ego maniacal individuals with more chances for lordship.
Why is this story worth telling today?
Right about now, if you have not already quit on me, you are probably asking why I bring up this nearly forty years old story when today the country is in the throes of another convulsion. The short answer is this. We are once again at the cusp of another radical transition and once again I am beginning to feel uneasy about key threads in our national discourse. I can list several areas of concern but I will limit myself in this post to just one issue regarding which we need to come together in short order lest we lose another opportunity to avert another ye-igir-isat.
Nearly forty years after I first came to Addis, my hair is mostly gone and my teeth will soon follow. I have gone more than once around the globe and feel more secure with my instincts. I refuse to hold back when I see wrong done to the country and to the people I love dearly just because somebody might disagree with me. I no longer fear other men. I fear only my God and our forefathers who might be looking down at all of us. So, I will speak my mind. Besides, one good thing about cyberspace is that I can get things off my chest without being booed or shouted down. So here it is. The first issue which has me worried is the Oromo Liberation Front. Its name and its propaganda grate badly on me.
The name of any organization is its trade mark, the carefully crafted catchphrase that is meant to tell a great deal about the nature and purpose of an organization. It is for this reason that many organizations jealously guard and protect their names through registered copyrights and trademarks. I do believe, therefore, that the Oromo Liberation Front selected its name carefully because it describes its mission, its vision and its purpose well.
On my part, when I hear the name Oromo Liberation Front many questions and much discomfort pops in my head. First among these are the questions: liberation for whom and liberation from what? I am astute enough to know what a liberation organization does. Just the same, out of basic respect for the right all people have to define their mission and ambition, I referred to the official documents of the OLF. These documents state that the mission of the OLF is “to lead the national liberation struggle of the Oromo people against the Abyssinian colonial rule.”
It is all right there, in black and white. I know our people are as good as any when it comes to playing with words. So, I am sure there are many interpretations of this credo doled out by the OLF depending who they are talking to. Yet when you strip all the semantics away, what is left is an organization which defines its mission in exactly the same terms as the ELF and EPLF did when they set out to break up Ethiopia. Reasonable people can only surmise that the ultimate purpose of the OLF, its rason d’etre, is to bring about the secession of Oromia from Ethiopia.
Once during my second year at HSIU (which in my case meant during my freshman year), I got the courage to ask one of those all knowing Maharajas why the rest of us should be supporting or even standing idly by when it was obvious that the Eritrean students were only interested in breaking up our country. He responded by asking me why I would wish them to share in our misery instead of letting them break free and fend for themselves. Others told me that the threat of secession was actually a negotiating ploy intended to force the masters of the feudal system to loosen their grip rather than an expression of a real desire to permanently separate from Ethiopia.
I am sure these days there are equally noble and high sounding reasons offered to explain why we should all focus on the main problem confronting Ethiopia today instead of being sidetracked by the minutiae in the political philosophy of one of the opposition organizations fighting the common enemy of the Ethiopian people. I am aware that the OLF is one of those angafa organizations of the land whose motives and methods an ordinary mortal like me is not supposed to question. However, I sense that I am being set up to fall into the same snare for the second time.
I ask my fellow Ethiopians if we are willing to yet again sit quietly and watch the same disastrous scene replayed once again? I, for one, am not going to be tiptoeing around the 2000 pound gorilla sitting in the living room and pretend that it is not there. I am not a bright eyed seventeen year old innocent child from the farm anymore. I have been bitten by this snake once before. I insist that we address it and address it now.
I find the very idea of an Ethiopian liberation front that does not seek to fight for all oppressed Ethiopians to be rather offensive to my sense of citizenship. I also find any suggestion that I have no right to speak on this matter except if I were an Oromo to be an affront to my intellect. Speaking of the Oromo identity, I find the OLF’s notion of what constitutes the land of the Oromo to be an affront to the right of a people to self-determination it recites ad nauseum in its manifesto.
I was reassured by comments made about the OLF both by Ato Bulcha Demeksa and Dr. Merera Gudena during the debates which preceded the 2005 election. Ato Bulcha emphatically stated that the political agenda of his organization differed from that of the OLF only on their respective choices of the method of struggle – armed struggle vs. peaceful and legal struggle. Dr. Merera essentially characterized the OLF in the same terms – a body fighting for the rights of the Oromo to enjoy democratic rights and to be free of poverty within the Ethiopian state. If these prominent Oromo personalities have it right, then millions of other Ethiopians can be reassured that the OLF is a friend and not a foe.
That said, the OLF has yet to clarify its purpose, its mission and its positions to the Ethiopian people. It is up to that organization to spell out its vision for Ethiopia in the clearest terms instead of cloaking it in the language of Leninist double-speak. The fact that we are fighting to liberate ourselves from an oppressive minority fascist clique does not mean that we can or should ignore other festering problems. The fact that Mr. Meles is an equal opportunity oppressor, terrorizing every village and every town in Ethiopia, does not mean that we should not pay attention to the machinations of lesser evils who stand to destabilize our country tomorrow.
It is up to the OLF to decide whether it is ready to join the Ethiopian people in the fight against tyranny. Alternatively, it could continue its current effort to use this crisis purely for its partisan advantage and for the purpose of boosting its partisan capabilities. It could continue to paint the crises presently engulfing our country as a fight between the government of Ethiopia and the Oromo people as if all other Ethiopians are either exempt from tyranny or worse, are siding with the government and taking part in the persecution of the Oromo people.
Regrettably, the OLF has been successful in casting the current crisis in Ethiopia as a conflict between the Oromo on the one side and all other people on the other side. So successful that even reporters and academics are beginning to characterize it as such. You hear international human rights campaigners and high ranking officials of foreign governments reporting the carnage perpetrated by the EPRDF regime across the country as crimes committed against the Oromo people.
My concern arises from the knowledge that misrepresentations of this magnitude often tend to snowball into more substantive structural problems if they are not addressed early. As I said earlier, our days of innocence are long gone. We have long ago debunked the notion that we should focus on the greater cause and ignore or even collaborate with those whose expressed purpose runs counter to our sense of Ethiopiawinet just as long as we are fighting against the same enemy. So, I invite the OLF to clarify itself and to express its willingness to work with other Ethiopians to end tyranny and to lay the groundwork for a peaceful, democratic and prosperous Ethiopia.
posted by eth4life | 2:13 PM
8 Comments:
well said... if we are not careful history will repeat itself. I see a lot of parallelism what is going on now and in the late 80's. TPLF now claim it has freed the people of Ethiopia from the tyrant Mengistu. This false claim is also bought by the west goverments. They dismissed the rest of Ethiopia including OLF as a spectator of the struggle. We all know the reason for the fall of Mengistu was the people had enough. Especially the Ethiopian army played a big role for his demise. ELF/TPLF know they wouldn't have a chance if the 1988 failed cope d'eta had not happened.
Today this new wave of unrest happing not by one group but by all the people of Ethiopia. I did not like the recent report by Amnesty singling out the arrests of Oromo students and then follow by a talk about OLF. But In actuality OLF as organization has little or nothing to do with the overall movement.
What is to be an Ethiopian?
Thank you for your post about this critical issue. I have also been thinking a lot about this issue. Why is it that all the PDO and LF’s want to destroy the spirit of Ethiopianism that is shared by the great majority of Ethiopians and not just the so called Amhara’s. What is it about this sense of pride in being an “Ethiopian” that drives them nuts? Why do they constantly try to denigrate the history (at least the positive part) of the only black nation that defeated European colonialists? Why are they constantly trying to dismantle the positive aspect of nation building that has taken place? The culture of central Ethiopia especially is not just the Amhara or Oromo but a malange that also includes the Tigre, Adere, Gurage and many others. Every nationality had participated in the greatness of Ethiopia. Life in Addis was and still is where the Eritrean, Tigre, Amhara, Oromo, Gurage, Somali and Adere colassed and created their own urban social and political outlook.
I recently saw a video of Mohamud Ahmed and Ali Birra singing together “Almaz meneda new” in Amharic and Oromigna. It brought tears to my eyes. It took me to the days of my youth. I remember when Ali Birra first did his rendition in Oromiga. A lot of non-Oromos learned that song because it hit a nerve. It hit that something inside that tells you this is part of your cultural heritage also. The same with many of Mohamud Ahmed’s guragega songs. They don’t just belong to the gurage. Just like the kitfo, they belong to all of us. That is what people call a melting pot. There certainly was and still is the urban and rural divide, like anywhere else in the world. The city slickers jokes were equal opportunity. It was equally dished out to the Gondere and Menze as well as the Oromo and Gurage. Ethiopia was a feudal empire just like all of medieval Europe. However, the Scottish are as proud of British history as the English. Why can’t we equally be proud of Dej. Balcha Aba Nefso as Atse Menelik, as men who made the white man shake in his boots! By the way, my screen saver for many years has been a fierce picture of Dej. Balcha. When I see his eyes I see the eyes of all our forefathers that gave their life protecting our country.
Meles &Co. and all the LF’s would like us to think the struggle is between the center and the periphery; between the Neftega Amhara’s and other oppressed nationalities. To create the new democratic federal Ethiopia the “old” system has to be dismantled and a new one based on the ethnic and linguistic differences has to be created.
It is certainly true that there needs to be devolution of political and economic power from the center to the regions. The feudal (not necessarily just Amhara) economic relationship basically ended with the 1974 revolution. Unfortunately, the government became the new “feudal” landlord under the Derg and now under the EPRDF.
By now, we know Meles is playing smoke and mirrors. The EPRDF is in fact strengthening the center while pretending to push power to the regions. Although, the regional institutions look democratic on paper (just like the constitution) they are merely tools for Meles & Co. to control the daily life of everyone in the nation. As to the rhetoric against the Neftega Amhara, that is just the rallying cry of raising the ghost of the past to demonize any political opposition. If there are any “Neftegas” today, they are the Agazi troops that are terrorizing the nation from one end to the other.
Ethiopia is a nation where the major ethnic and linguistic groups have a common historical and cultural reference points (good and bad). The PDO and LF’s are focused on what divide us vs. on what unite us. They are more interested in telling us that one’s Addis Ababa is another’s Finfene. We can’t be as proud of the Geda system as the Axumite Empire and so on. I appreciated Berhanu Nega’s (dully elected mayor of A.A.) response to this divisive ploy of the EPRDF. He welcomed the Oromo regional government to Addis as a source of revenue for the Addis Ababa government. If the people of Addis Ababa want to change the name to Finfene, that is their prerogative. Not some PDO or LF’s unless they plan to ethnic cleanse five million people from their homes of generations!
That is why they all hate and demonize the CUDP. As Birtukan Mideksa said Kinjit is a “spirit”. A “spirit” of a federal democratic Ethiopia. An Ethiopia, that is ready for the new while preserving the good of the past.
Thanks One Ethiopia.
You expressed the feeling of most Ethiopians who believe that all our problems will only be solved through a united, democratic Ethiopia.
The position of OLF is clear to every one. I do not see them changing it soon. On the other hand, there is a tendency to exaggerate significance of OLF.
I do not believe that OLF is a legitimate representative of Oromos, nor do I believe the Oromo question can only be solved through OLF. I know there is a growing sentiment in favor of OLF among young Oromos but one can't be sure how deeply rooted it is. It is more like an act of defiance against Melese’s tyrannical regime. I remain to be convinced that the young demonstrators who raise OLF’s flag agree with the extremist position of the party, i.e. secession of Oromo zone.
Moreover, OLF is a hallow organization which has been splitting again and again and changing leadership every time they face an obstacle. Since the debacle with TPLF a decade ago, OLF has deteriorated in size and political significance. It has been ridiculed even by its members, and lost too many leaders and supporters. Even now there are two independent groups who claim ownership of the party.
Abdisa
There is nothing that causes me pain deep in my heart every time I hear, read or see somthing that is intended to divide our Ethiopia. These days the issue of the Oromo particularly of OLF sympethisers is worrying me more than anything. Some of them have even went as far as claiming that they are not Ethiopians. I think this is a deliberate way of trying to create an Oromo nationalism and state. Thus, playing the same game the EPLF and TPLF played during separatist movement.
During my time in Addis Ababa just about 5 years ago,I did not see anything that can be compared to what I am hearing and reading on the cyber world.
All in all I keep asking myself...Is it really that bad on the ground?? Do the Ethiopian people, be it the urabn or rural residents hate this much? Do the Oromo people really want to secede? Does the secession of Oromo solve the root cause of the Oromo people? Can the Oromo problem be solved with out solving the problems of their counterparts? Assuming that Oromo secedes, can it really exist peacefully and develop economically? What is the guarantee that the OLF is not going to be another dictator just like the current day LFs? What is the input of the rest of he Ethiopian people in the dicision making?
I think most of us, understandably, have a lot of trouble relating to ethnic nationalism. I know I did, for a long time.
But as the years have passed by, and I have seen ethnic nationalisms in all their manifestations throughout the world, including the country where I live, Canada, I have come to accept the phenomenon has part of human reality.
I find it helpful not to look at the organizations that push ethnic nationalism, but the people who feel pulled towards ethnic nationalism. What makes them tick? What is it that attracts some Oromos to ethnic nationalism? Is it purely a top-down movement of propaganda fooling the masses? Surely not. There must be some grassroots sentiment that is being harnessed.
The reasons behind this grassroots sentiment are complex, but the solution always involves empowerment through some sort of democracy, democracy defined as the leadership being a reflection of the people's wishes.
Further, it involves accommodation of ethnic nationalist sentiments to some extent. Accommodation comes through negotiation, which requires tact. The LF knows all too well that it has emotion on its side, and that any action than can be interpreted as alienating is to its advantage. Therefore the other side must be sensitive to this and be careful what it says and does.
This is how ethnic nationalisms have been successfully managed throughout the world. I think it's a lesson we ought to learn from the Canadas and Indias of the world.
Dessalegn,
I agree with you the solution is a democratic system in which every Ethiopian has a stake. For that to happen, the system should guarantee individuals right for free speech, association, ownership of property including land, religious belief, etc.What is the role of OLF in this context?
No one argues the fact that ethnic nationalism is a legitimate issue and any political solution to the crisis in Ethiopia should include organizations with ethnic agenda. However, a number of questions need to be answered regarding OLF.
Is it the one and only party that can represent Oromo people? Is it really possible for one party to fully represent any ethnic group? What is the role of ONC and OFDM? Does OLF have the proper agenda and capacity to solve the problem? What should be done about its misrepresentation of the crisis in Ethiopia between Oromos and other Ethiopians?
Abdisa
Abdisa,
It's difficult to know what the OLF's role should be because we don't know the extent of public support for it. We can guess, but we'll never be sure until it participates in elections. Its role will be defined by the people.
A free election with the participation of the OLF would be fascinating. I think the performance of CUD, ONC, and OFDM in Oromia really surprised everyone in these past elections. I would suspect that the OLF would have its work cut out for it if these parties play their cards right. On the other hand, there may be a re-alignment of forces that we can't foresee at the moment. Ah, it's all guesswork.
One thing for sure, though, the moderating effect of democracy and elections will work on the OLF, too.
Yes the OLF needs to clarify its objectives for all... including Oromos. But my question to the author is this... When fighting for the 'Ethiopia's liberation' instead of an ethnic one as you put it should there not be a signal from non Oromo Ethiopians as well. In other words why is it always the case that only the marginalized need to take the initiative to define themselves with an Ethiopian cause.
I think you should take the initiative for ones and write exclusively about the severe treatment that the Ethiopian state structure inflicts on Oromos, Ogadenis, etc... wihout diluting it in general Ethiopianism. If it is against your preference to speak of ethnic groups then write about the persecutions in gambella, Arusi and so on and make it regional but for god's sake write something about non central Ethiopia.
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