By Amin Ahmed
The Afar people are not thirsty for war — they are thirsty for survival. They are not hungry for conflict — they are hungry for security and stability. Yet, in Ethiopia’s recent history, survival and dignity have been denied to them again and again.
Not long ago, the entire country was tormented by the TDF, branded then as the TPLF “Junta.” At that time, the TDF was declared anti-peace, even a terrorist organization. Anyone suspected of having sympathy for them — even skeptics — was labeled a betrayer. In those difficult years, the Afar, regardless of internal political differences, stood shoulder to shoulder with the Ethiopian government. They made undeniable sacrifices for the unity and survival of Ethiopia.
But politics is a ruthless game. After the Pretoria Agreement, alliances shifted: yesterday’s friends turned into enemies, and yesterday’s enemies became best friends. Ethiopian politics has always followed this rule — no permanent friend, no permanent enemy, only permanent interest. History shows it clearly: relations between Northern Afar and Tigray have never been stable — sometimes marked by contest, sometimes by peace.
What is most painful today is that the government’s policy seems to say: Ethiopia must be tailored to power, not to the compassion of its people.
Stephen Covey once said, “First things first.” For Afar, the first thing has always been survival. For generations, Afar have endured migration, displacement, persecution, and unbearable burdens. Yet despite this suffering, they carried Ethiopia on their backs — literally. Ethiopia’s history knows the slogan well: “The Ethiopian flag is known by Afar camels.”
If Afar camels have carried Ethiopia with such loyalty, then I must ask: How much has Ethiopia carried Afar?
This is not just a question — it is a wound. It is a demand for recognition.
That moment was made clear to me by a personal story. In 2005, in Addis Ababa’s 22 Kifle Ketema, my friend was looking for a house to rent. A broker took him to an old mother’s home. Before discussing the rent, she looked at him closely and asked: “Are you Ethiopian?” He answered, “Yes.” She asked again, “Are you Ethiopian?” He answered again, “Yes.” A third time she asked, and when he confirmed once more, she looked at him and said: “You do not resemble an Ethiopian.”
That moment revealed everything. Afar people — who carried Ethiopia’s flag on their camels, symbolizing their role in upholding the nation’s identity and sovereignty, who sacrificed their lives for its survival — are still questioned about their very belonging.
This is the contradiction we must confront: Afar give Ethiopia their blood, sweat, and survival. Yet today, Afar are being drawn into campaigns to annex the port of Assab, a move that disregards and undermines the feelings of their own kin, the Eritrean Afar.
This reminds me of a story an Afar veteran once told me about the period of British Administration. At that time, many Eritrean highland Christians strongly supported federation with Ethiopia. But after federation, the so-called “honeymoon” ended quickly, giving way to mistrust, hierarchies of master and subject, and endless misinterpretations. Frustrated by this, one Eritrean famously said: “From all these messes, Mussolini would have been better.”
The lesson is clear: political unions without trust and equality create only disappointment and bitterness.
And so, when Afar ask, “What does Ethiopia give us in return?” — silence answers.
Conclusion:
For minority ethnic groups partitioned across different states, unification may seem a path to survival and strength. But such unification must never be rushed or guided by short-term interests. It requires thorough investigation and serious attention to the socio-economic and political destiny of future generations.
The Afar, in particular, must take lessons from history: the troubled experience of the Union of the Two Yemens and the fragile Somali unification. Both show us that unity without foresight can quickly turn into disillusion, mistrust, and instability.
For Afar, the choice must always be survival first, dignity first, and the future of coming generations first.
If Afar camels carried Ethiopia’s flag, then Ethiopia must now carry Afar’s future.