Introduction
George Orwell’s “Animal Farm” is not simply a story about animals; it is a profound political allegory about how revolutions fail when ideals are corrupted by power. Written in 1945, Orwell’s novella warns of the dangers of authoritarianism, propaganda, and the slow decay of truth under the weight of fear. Though set on an English farm, the book transcends geography and time. Today, its lessons are strikingly relevant to Ethiopia, where the promise of democracy and prosperity has gradually been replaced by corruption, inequality, and repression. Like the animals who watched their ideals rewritten on the barn wall, Ethiopians have seen their aspirations transformed into empty slogans while their living conditions deteriorate.
The Revolution’s Promise and Its Betrayal
When Old Major in “Animal Farm” proclaims that “all animals are equal,” he gives voice to a collective dream of justice and dignity. In the same way, Ethiopians once embraced new governments that promised equality, rule of law, and shared prosperity. Every political transition—from monarchy to socialism to the modern federal system—was framed as liberation. Yet, as Orwell shows, power without accountability always corrupts. Soon after the rebellion in “Animal Farm”, the pigs begin to enjoy privileges while claiming to act for the common good. Squealer’s manipulation—“You do not imagine, I hope, that we pigs are doing this in a spirit of selfishness?”—is echoed in the rhetoric of Ethiopian leaders who insist that their control ensures stability and progress. But beneath the surface, the public grows poorer while the ruling elite grows richer. Government officials celebrate ‘development,’ ‘growth,’ and ‘renaissance,’ while citizens struggle to buy food, pay rent, or find work. Inflation is relentless, and even the most educated—physicians, engineers, university graduates—are unable to sustain their livelihoods. The promise of economic progress, like the animals’ belief in the windmill, has become a myth used to justify suffering.
Freedom, Fear, and the Erosion of Justice
In Orwell’s tale, the animals are told they are free, yet they live under constant surveillance and fear. Similarly, today’s Ethiopia bears the weight of state control and insecurity. Citizens cannot move freely across the country without fear of arrest, interrogation, or abduction. In many rural areas, gangs and militias kidnap civilians, demanding ransom from their families. The state’s authority—once centralized and feared—has fragmented. Outside of the capital, the rule of law is nearly absent. The result is a society where citizens live not by rights but by chance. Fear governs where justice has failed. Corruption has become a way of life; it is not hidden but openly practiced, accepted as the cost of survival. Even basic freedoms—speech, movement, and political expression—are constrained. Like the animals who dared not question Napoleon’s decisions, Ethiopians risk punishment for dissenting against those in power. State media praises progress and peace, while ordinary people witness daily violence, unemployment, and hunger. The government’s proclamations about ‘inclusive growth’ sound like the pigs’ false statistics that ‘production has increased by 200 percent.’ The numbers may comfort the powerful, but they do not feed the poor.
Economic Despair and Failing Infrastructure
Orwell’s farm collapses not from lack of effort, but from the distortion of priorities. Similarly, Ethiopia’s current economic hardship reflects the failure of governance, not of potential. The nation has immense natural resources, a youthful population, and the ambitious Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD)—a symbol of modern aspiration. Yet, the paradox is painful: even as the government inaugurates the GERD, electricity prices are skyrocketing, and millions of citizens still live without reliable access to power or water. Public services that should represent progress—electricity, clean water, and transport—are increasingly difficult to access. The daily struggle for these necessities mirrors the animals’ endless rebuilding of the windmill: effort without reward. The state announces ‘national achievements’ while ordinary families endure blackouts, fuel shortages, and deteriorating infrastructure. Investment, both domestic and foreign, is in decline. Investors hesitate in the face of insecurity and conflict, knowing that without peace, there can be no stability or growth. Youth unemployment has reached alarming levels. Deprived of opportunity, thousands risk their lives in perilous journeys across deserts and seas. The stories of young Ethiopians drowning in the Red Sea or the Mediterranean have become hauntingly frequent headlines in international media. They leave not out of choice, but because despair has replaced hope.
Collapse of Governance and the Politics of Control
In “Animal Farm”, the animals’ faith in leadership turns into submission. Napoleon’s rule depends on fear, revisionism, and propaganda. Ethiopia today reflects this same dynamic. The ruling party dominates the narrative of the nation, controlling political discourse, silencing opposition, and labeling critics as threats to unity. State institutions, which should serve citizens, have become instruments of the party’s survival. The government’s inability—or unwillingness—to resolve conflicts with armed groups deepens the crisis. Across the country, sporadic violence continues to erupt. Displacement, famine, and ethnic tension scar the social fabric. Peace talks appear performative rather than sincere, as if the government fears compromise more than conflict itself. Like Napoleon, who maintained control by invoking external enemies, the leadership justifies repression as ‘security measures,’ even as the violence it claims to prevent multiplies. Corruption is not punished but protected. Those who expose it face retaliation. Democracy has become ceremonial: elections are held, but choice is absent.
Moral and Political Lessons
Orwell’s “Animal Farm” ends with the chilling image of pigs and humans dining together, indistinguishable from one another. The final commandment—’All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others’—captures the essence of political hypocrisy. Ethiopia’s reality today reflects this very contradiction. While leaders speak of equality, justice, and prosperity, inequality, repression, and poverty define daily life. The promise of democracy has been replaced by the practice of domination. The constitutional ideals that once inspired hope—human rights, federalism, and equality—exist more on paper than in practice. In the absence of justice, despair becomes the people’s companion. Yet Orwell’s message is not purely pessimistic. His warning carries within it the possibility of awakening. It reminds us that liberty dies not in one moment but in a thousand small silences—when people stop questioning, when fear replaces courage, and when truth becomes negotiable. Ethiopia’s crisis is not inevitable; it is the consequence of forgetting the principles that once inspired change.
Conclusion
“Animal Farm” endures because it tells an eternal truth: that revolutions fail when the oppressed imitate their oppressors. Ethiopia’s tragedy today is not only political but moral—a loss of faith in fairness, honesty, and compassion. The people’s dream of democracy has not vanished, but it has been buried under fear, hunger, and fatigue. Still, the story is not finished. The same spirit that once dreamed of liberation can dream again—but only if truth is restored and the people reclaim their right to live freely, speak openly, and hope honestly. Orwell’s animals forgot their past and surrendered their voice. Ethiopia’s future depends on doing the opposite: remembering, resisting, and rebuilding.