Messay Kebede
April 24, 2025
To bring out the common feature running through the various consecutive regimes that presided over the Ethiopian political scene since the dawning of modernity is undoubtedly to gain insight into the impasse of Ethiopian politics. The common feature shared by all the four “modernizing” regimes can be summed up with one word: political absolutism. Regardless of the distinct traits and ideology of each regime, what is common to all of them is that they all put in place the rule of a single individual holding a total centralized authority over all aspects of social life, whether this authority is that of a monarch, a president, or a prime minister. What is more, all these regimes came into being following a chain of popular unrest and protests over the abuses, undemocratic practices, and economic stagnation of the preceding regime. So compelling were the expectations of change echoed by the demonstrations that the emergence and consolidation of each new dictatorial regime struck us as a baffling reversal.
Boundless Power
The repetition of the same scenario over decades invites one to scrutinize the meaning of the notion of power. In the eyes of Ethiopians, the recurrence of dictatorial regimes evinces that power is not meant to be shared or distributed among different sectors of the social fabric. Distribution dilutes and incapacitates power. If there is one country that corroborates the veracity of the famous dictum, “power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely” (Lord Acton), this country is Ethiopia. The dictum warns us that power corrupts by definition, so to speak, and not by accident or depending on circumstances. It does so regardless of the person in power, for where power is not regulated, no person is immune from corruption. Prior goodness or immorality (wickedness) has no say in the matter. If power corrupts by its very essence, imagine what absolute, uncontrolled, and undivided power can do. It corrupts absolutely, that is, the corrupting effect would not only be limitless but also irremediable and without any cure.
Even though it is customary to hear many Ethiopians praising the virtues of cooperation, which they link to greater strength, the prevailing belief is that power delivers the maximum output when it substitutes subordination for collaboration. Subordination introduces dependency into relations between people, thereby activating patron-client relationships. With subordination, relationships become more dependable since they rely on a form of association involving solely rewards for rendered services rather than a partnership for the so-called common interests. They are even less reliable if the motive for obedience is dutifulness or any other form of loyalty.
A related Ethiopian requisite is that, to be effective, power must remain concentrated, for it is efficient only in so far as other social sectors, and this includes personal areas as well as family relations, cede their authority to the higher authority. Not only does this requisite rule out the divisibility of power, but it also shows that dispossession of power through violent competition safeguards the full exercise of power. The necessity of bellicose confrontation attests that power is a possession that one must grab and keep with firm hands under pain of disqualification.
Let us develop this point further as it embodies the Ethiopian understanding of power. The involvement of violent competitions signifies that there is no natural or conventional entitlement to power. Moreover, there is competition only if the field of confrontation is open so that ambitious people do not feel excluded in advance. In other words, power can neither be claimed on hereditary grounds nor passed on following some social agreement or convention. Emphasizing the open nature of Ethiopian power competition, a towering scholar of Ethiopian Studies, Margery Perham, writes:
The power of the monarchy may be visualized as a magnificent and lofty throne which was always standing ready for the dynast who had the military power and ability to climb up into it. The religious character of the throne insured that it would never be pulled down by so religious a people as the Ethiopians, and whenever a ruler was able, as many were, to mount all the steps that lead to the high seat of power he would find no theoretical limits to its exercise.
Religion and Politics
The reluctance to regulate the power game, what else does it institute but a permanent state of political uncertainty? Yet, when it comes to Ethiopia, a factor is added that seems to alter the picture. I have in mind the long tradition overseeing what appears to be an orderly transmission of power. Indeed, Kibre Negast’s often-mentioned notion of the Solomonic dynasty is said to provide a rule regulating access to the Ethiopian throne. All candidates must show some Solomonic affiliation to claim the throne and, most importantly, to obtain the approval of the Church. At first look, the rule seems to institute a hereditary criterion for the entitlement to the throne. But, on closer look, it does not do so, the reason being that all Ethiopian kings and emperors, with the exception of the Zagwe kings, claimed some tie with the Solomonic descent, even though they came from different regions and family trees. This openness tells us that the criterion used to support the claims was loose enough not to exclude anyone. Thus, Emperor Tewodros was from Gondar, Yohannes from the Tigray region, and Menelik from Shoa, yet all claimed to belong to the Solomonic line.
The necessity of having a Solomonic affiliation was a direct way of involving God and tying religion with politics. The involvement led to the belief that those who become kings in Ethiopia are divinely chosen (ሥዩመ እግዚአብሄር). The reference to choice further explains why hereditary and conventional criteria were excluded from consideration for the succession to the throne. Indeed, to be real, divine choice necessitates the institution of open competition for the throne, given that choice would lose its meaning if it were restricted by prior heredity and conventional considerations. In addition, God’s choice would forgo its legendary mysteriousness if succession were determined in advance. To consistently defend the belief in God’s choice, open candidacy is mandatory so that no one is excluded before the start of the competition.
The follow-up question is thus obvious: Given the indetermination of the social field, how does the divine choice select among various candidates the one who deserves power? The answer is not far off: the chosen candidate is the one who emerges as a winner from the open competition. To be a winner, the candidate must show all the qualities necessary to be a great leader, such as determination, wisdom, piety, loyalty to the Orthodox Church, etc. Above all, the winner must be a fearless and strategic warrior since he/she cannot prevail over other competitors for the throne without being a formidable fighter. Most importantly, the winner cannot accomplish his/her main duty, which is to defend the Church and the Ethiopian polity in the hostile environment in which they operate, if these warlike qualities are lacking. The defense requires a leader capable of putting to good use the concentrated and exclusive power he/she inherits. The proper implementation of such a sovereign power confirms that the leader is the true messenger of the master of all things.
The involvement of divine choice does not mean that kings were not authorized to select their successors or that their chosen heirs did not become kings. Rather, it means that designated successors, whomever they may be, could not prevent the rise of would-be claimants, much less defeat them unless they possessed all the qualities necessary to exert political absolutism. The king is free to nominate a successor, but only God’s choice can authenticate the presence of royal qualities and trigger the certification of the Church. Church coronation was crucial because it bestowed on kingship divine legitimacy.
Incidentally, Haile Selassie’s 1931 Constitution was the first attempt to establish a hereditary monarchy in Ethiopia. It clearly stipulated that “the Imperial dignity shall remain perpetually attached to the line of His Majesty Haile Selassie 1st” and that “the Throne and the crown of the Empire shall be transmitted to the descendants of the Emperor pursuant to the law of the Imperial House.” Needless to say, the clause generated protests from members of the nobility on the ground that it constituted a dangerous deviation from the Solomonic tradition by confining God’s choice to one family.
Haile Selassie was not alone in defending the notion of hereditary succession. For instance, Afework Guebre Yesus, one of the early modern intellectuals, urged for the institution of a hereditary monarchy in Ethiopia. In his eyes, the inability to conduct an orderly and peaceful transition each time a king passed away is directly responsible for the recurring lack of peace and political stability. He writes: “The replacement of a monarch entails a ferocious fight until one comes out winner.” This same fight opened the door to despicable claimers who appropriated power by using fraud, terror, and plunder, the only way by which they could silence their opponents and reward their followers and soldiers at the expense of ordinary people, thereby aggravating social decline and further wrecking the rule of law.
The upshot of all this is that the features crafting the Ethiopian understanding of power contributed to turning war and violence into integral parts of the competition for power, whose consequence was and still is the blockage and even at times the regression of social advancement. Worse still, the features became a cultural trait passed on to “modern” generations, all the more easily as the version associating modernity with centralization gained acceptance among influential people.
A question springs to mind: if indeed each succession occurred after deep social disruptions and internal fights, by what miracle did Ethiopia survive for so long? The answer pertains to the role of the Ethiopian Church. We have already said that the Church’s endorsement was decisive for the winner to prevail over his opponents. The combination of military superiority with the support of the Church gave legitimacy to the winner, and this legitimacy was the reason why defeated contenders not only submitted but also showed loyalty to the victor. Not to show loyalty was for the contenders to go against the wish of God, which was then unthinkable. The fear of God was the weapon that the Church used to restore peace after the fights for the control of power and to mediate if the restored peace broke down for some reason. This role of the Church as a legitimizer and mediator was successful in ensuring an orderly transfer of power and sustaining the loyalty of the vanquished.
Encounter between two Cultures
Regarding the issue of culture, the crucial question is whether there is an all-inclusive Ethiopian culture, that is, a culture representative of all ethnic groups. The fashionable position among many Ethiopian intellectuals, notably from the southern parts of the country, is to cast doubt on the existence of an inclusive culture. According to them, the so-called Ethiopian culture is exclusive to the northern Amhara and Tigrayan regions. It does not comprise the southern parts, which have managed to preserve their own cultures despite the aggressive attempts to “amharize” them during the imperial rule. The factual reality is the existence of distinct Oromo, Sidama, Somali, etc., cultures: a cursory cultural study is enough to show that the belief in an all-embracing Ethiopian culture does not hold water.
Yet an objective study of the unfolding of Ethiopian history and a genuine observation of the attitudes and behaviors of southern people and their reactions, notably of the educated strata, to various events easily discern the mixture of strong elements borrowed from the north with indigenous elements. I will confine my analysis to the Oromo culture since Oromo intellectuals, perhaps more than anybody else among the southern people, vigorously insist that they have a culture distinct from the Amhara culture and take umbrage at any attempt to find common grounds between the two.
The usual charge labeled by Oromo intellectuals against the Amhara culture is that it feeds on expansion with the intent of subjugating neighboring peoples. However, the accusation clashes with the fact that Oromo intellectuals take pride in the accomplishments of their people during the Oromo period of expansion. Some of them even insist that what Oromo expansion did back then was no different from what the Amhara ruling class did later. Thus, Mohammed Hassen writes:
The Oromo easily entered huge areas in a short time . . . They easily adapted to another environment and coalesced with indigenous people, and at the same time they imparted their language and the complex Gada system . . . The Oromo genius for assimilation quickly claimed any non-Oromo, defeated or otherwise.
Going further, he adds, “the Oromo had made the conquered people gabare,” as a result of which the vanquished “became serfs or clients of the pastoral Oromo, who now demanded service and tribute from them.” In other words, not only the Oromo subjected the conquered people to a rule that is reminiscent of the Amhara expansion under Menelik, but they also implemented a policy of “Oromization.” The paradox is that Oromo intellectuals never explain why the Amhara expansion is called “colonization,” while that of the Oromo is termed “assimilation.”
Take the case of the Gada system. Oromo intellectuals regard the system as the distinguishing feature of the Oromo culture and willingly contrast it with the Amhara social organization. According to them, the Gada system is “a highly democratic system”; that of the Amhara is “monarchical” and “hierarchical.” Let us assume that the perceived contrast between the two is true. But then, how does one reconcile democracy with the Gada system’s ritual requirement to initiate war every eight years in conjunction with the election of a new leadership? What else does the ritual mold but a mindset driven by warlike values and war ethos?
That war ethos is the common trait running through both the Oromo and the northern cultures, explains their common practice, which is that both cultures “lay tremendous stress on the virtues of aggressive masculinity. In both societies, boys are trained to be fearless fighters.” Just as we cannot account for the survival and expansion of Ethiopia without a persistent fighting spirit, so can we not explain the Oromo expansion over a large territory without the same mindset. Both systems inscribed war in the social order so that war was not circumstantial or occasional, but part of the social order and movement. Alluding to the competition for expansion, another Oromo scholar says, “the Abyssinians and Oromos had tested each other and maintained consistent and clear cut boundaries between their homelands.” Reinforcing the analysis, Asafa Jalata asserts: “On matters of land, power, religion, and trade, the Oromo and the Abyssinians were the main contenders in the Horn of Africa.” Little wonder, then, that many Oromo fighters joined enthusiastically and even led Menelik’s expansionist war in Oromia and later distinguished themselves against Italian invaders.
It is important to keep in mind that the encounter between the two cultures could not but prompt a process of osmosis, resulting in the Amhara culture shaping the Oromo culture in its image. The process has been denounced and condemned vehemently by Oromo intellectuals who do not hesitate to speak of the Amhara “colonization” of the Oromo. In the words of Asafa Jalata,
The Ethiopian colonial system and borrowed cultural and religious identities were
imposed on Oromos creating regional and religious boundaries. Consequently, there were times when Christian Oromos identified themselves more with Habashas and Muslim Oromos . . . Under these conditions, Oromo personal identities, such as religion replaced Oromoness, central Oromo values, and core Oromo self-schemas. Colonial rulers saw Oromoness as a source of raw material that was ready to be transformed into other identities.”
In a previous paragraph, he had said, “Today there are Oromo elites who have internalized these externally imposed regional or religious identities.”
Once cultural osmosis has taken place, there is no easy way of throwing away the borrowed elements, the reason being that human will, by itself, is not enough to cause cultural change. A decisive confirmation of the difficulty of change is the systematic attacks on the Orthodox Church and Oromo Orthodox Christians that the present government is orchestrating periodically. The attacks follow the principle that it is permitted to eliminate recalcitrant citizens if you fail to convince them. Let us go further: though the Oromo culture is hailed as democratic, the present Oromo rulers of Ethiopia cannot help but describe their coming to power as the Oromo turn to rule. The statement makes sense only if we recall that previously the Ethiopian state was dominated by the Amhara elites and then by Tigrayan elites, who were nowhere near to running a democratic government. To my understanding, such a statement means that Oromo elites will rule Ethiopia in the same way as their predecessors. Nothing could better confirm the reality of the Oromo culture being shaped by previous ruling cultures than this justification of absolute power by invoking the Oromo turn to rule. Such a justification is an acknowledgment of the evaporation of the democratic nature of the Oromo culture.
A Foggy Understanding of Modernity
Let us concede that the culture of an open power game has some affinity, albeit superficially, with modernity. While in Ethiopia competition for power leads to conflicts and elimination of opponents, in classical modern countries, it is settled by means of popular majority vote, which encapsulates the sovereignty of the people. The outcome of the Ethiopian way of resolving political rivalry is that there is a winner and a loser; the winner takes all while the loser either faces elimination or complete submission.
Because in the mind of Ethiopians, power is either absolute or purposeless, social visions advocating the absolute control of state power determine the ideological choices of competitors. This was the case with Haile Selassie’s monarchical absolutism, whose justification was that the introduction of both modernization and its central instrument, namely, centralization, requires the exercise of absolute power, of one ruler dominating everything. The same understanding guided the Derg’s espousal of socialism, with its project of eradicating class divisions. The project demands the absolute control of the state by a specific group and its evolution towards the uncontested rule of one man, given that the eradication of classes entails an authoritarian and aggressive policy. The same logic operates with ethnic federalism despite its decentering principle. In this case, political absolutism is needed because the implementation of ethnic federation necessitates the recourse to the policy of divide and rule. It is only by pitching one ethnic group against another that ethnic enclaves can be instituted. The whole process leads to the imperious rule of one man, who becomes the custodian of peace and unity between hostile ethnic enclaves.
The process that led to the establishment of democracy in classical modern countries took a different turn. True, it allowed open competition between opponents but also ruled out violence. In other words, it civilized the avidity and exclusive nature of power by inculcating a vision of social life as an organization involving give-and-take relationships, that is, an organization based on consent and the sharing of power. For instance, for contract theory, society originates from a consensus between free and equal individuals who give up some of their power to an elected body in exchange for peace and the rule of an impartial code of law. We are far from the Ethiopian belief that entitlement to power goes to the one who emerges victorious from a violent competition for ascendancy.
It is never said enough that the major stumbling block preventing Ethiopia from moving forward in the direction of peace, social progress, and democracy is the ingrained and inflexible tandem between modernization and centralization and its consequence, namely, political absolutism. The tandem is all the more inflexible the more cultural traits support the exclusive bent of power. As though a magnetic force were at work, the country falls back on the same divagations as in the past despite recurring protests against established practices and hope for a better future. These recurring failures to move forward activate the same predicament, namely, the powerlessness and inability to halt the precipitation towards absolute power every time the existing social order falls apart.
I challenge anyone to explain the ongoing conflicts in today’s Ethiopia without assuming that the struggle for absolute power is the main driving force. The other reasons that could be invoked to explain the conflicts, like economic issues, identity politics, religious divisions, social dislocations, etc., are often pretexts for the control of power or are secondary issues. The lack of social peace causes economic issues because development is impossible with the reign of violence. True, a wide agreement exists that considers ethnic federalism and its constitution as the main problem of Ethiopia. However, it can be convincingly shown that, behind the ethnic predicament, there is always a competition for absolute power, masking itself as a national liberation movement. Take the case of the ongoing war in Amhara and Oromia. In whichever way it is examined, it boils down to power control. Similarly, the lack of unity and the constant disagreement, both external and internal, between armed forces, for instance between Fano factions, prove to be nothing else than the unfolding of power struggle. Likewise in Tigray, the long-established unity of the TPLF is now fractured over the control of the Tigrayan state.
Ethiopia’s tragedy is that the introduction of modernity did not institute an agreed mechanism for the restoration of peace after the battle for power control. The winner is left with military superiority devoid of legitimacy, and this invites contenders to rise and rebel against the victor. The bare truth is that force does not breed legitimacy; consequently, such a force is contestable, and peace is never on the horizon. As Jean-Jacques Rousseau reminds us, “force doesn’t create right . . . legitimate powers are the only ones we are obliged to obey.” The religious blessing of the past is gone, together with the fear of God, especially among educated elites. Accordingly, Ethiopia has not yet succeeded in finding a modern version of bestowing legitimacy on political regimes born out of violence. Our present “modern” leaders cherish the Maoist opinion that “political power grows out of the barrel of a gun.” Hence, the continuous reversals and lack of lasting peace because of the practice of eliminating would-be contenders and amassing power, the intent of which is to deprive all social forces of power and keep everything under tight control.
- Jacques Rousseau, The Social Contracthttps://philosophyintrocourse.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/rousseau-the-social-contract-books-i-and-ii.pdf
