Red Sea politics - ቀይ ባህር , ኢትዮጵያ ምን እያደረገች ነው?

 
በቀይ ባህር እና በባቤል አልመንደብ የሚከሰቱት የቅርብ ጊዜ ክስተቶች አንድ ግልጽ መልዕክት እየሰጡን ነው፦ ባህር በር ለኢትዮጵያ የንግድ ጉዳይ ብቻ ሳይሆን የብሔራዊ ደህንነትና ጉዳይ ነው።

በየመን ያለው ጦርነት እየተባባሰ ሲሄድ፣ ሁቲዎች ሞካን፣ ማዩን/ፔሪምን እና የሃኒሽ ደሴቶችን በመቆጣጠር በባቤል አልመንደብ ላይ ያላቸውን ተጽዕኖ አሳድገዋል። ይህ የዓለም ንግድ እና የኃይል ምንጮች የሚያልፉበትን አንድ እጅግ ወሳኝ የባህር መተላለፊያ በከፍተኛ። የጸጥታ አደጋ ውስጥ አስገብቶታል። በአንድ ቀን 30 ያህል መርከቦች በሚያልፉበት ሰርጥ ዛሬ ወደ 15 መርከቦች ወርዷል። ከየመን ወደ ጅቡቲ የሚሻገሩ ስደተኞች ቁጥር በፍጥነት ጨምሯል።

ይህ ለኢትዮጵያ ምን ማለት ነው?

1. የቀይ ባህር ጉዳይ ከእንግዲህ ሊዘገይ የማይገባ ጉዳይ ነው

ኢትዮጵያ ከቀይ ባህር በጂኦግራፊ የተለየች ብትሆንም፣ ከቀይ ባህር የሚነሱ የንግድ፣ የኃይል፣ የደህንነትና የጂኦፖለቲካ ለውጦች በቀጥታ ይነኳታል። የወደብ ተደራሽነት የሀገር ራስን የመቻል ዋልታ ነው።

2. ባቤል አልመንደብ ከኢትዮጵያ የሚርቅ ጂኦፖለቲካዊ ቦታ አይደለም

በአንድ በኩል የየመን የባህር ዳርቻ በሁቲዎች ቁጥጥር ሲገባ፣ በሌላ በኩል ደግሞ በአፍሪካ ዳርቻ ጅቡቲ፣ ኤርትራ እና ሶማሊያ የሚገኙት ወደቦች እና የውትድርና ማዕከላት የክልሉ የኃይል ሚዛን አካል ሆነዋል። በዚህ ሁኔታ ኢትዮጵያ የቅርብ ተመልካች መቆየት አይቻላትም። ቀይ ባህር ውስጥ የሚፈጠረው የፀጥታ ስጋት ከቀይ ባህር ተወሳኝ የጎረቤት አገራት (ኤርትራና ጂቡቲ) በላይ ተጽዕኖ የሚያሳደረው ኢትዮጵያ ላይ ነው።

3. የአሁኑ ቀውስ ለኢትዮጵያ አደጋ ብቻ ሳይሆን የስትራቴጂ እድልም ነው

የቀይ ባህር ቀውስ ለኛ የተግባር ትምህርት ነው። ባህር አጠገብ ተቀምጠህ የባህር በር ከሌለህ ያንተ ደህንነነት የሚወሰነው ለኢሎች ነው። ከእንግዲህ የኢትዮጵያ ጥያቄ “የባህር በር” ሳይሆን፣ “በህር ላይ ተግባራዊ መገኘት (functional maritime presence)” የሚል መሆን አለበት።

4. “በባህር ላይ መገኘት” ሲባል ት

• የረጅም ጊዜ የወደብ ተደራሽነት፣

• የራሷ የሎጂስቲክስ እና የንግድ ቁጥጥር፣

• የባህር ላይ ደህንነት አቅም፣

• የባህር ሃይል መገኛ፣

• እና የማይቀለበስ የስምምነት ዋስትና

ያለው functional maritime presence ነው።

5. ከአሁኑ ቀውስ የምንማረው ዋና ትምህርት

ዛሬ በቀይ ባህር የሚካሄደው ትግል የወደብ ትግል ብቻ አይደለም። የመተላለፊያ ነጥቦችን (chokepoints) የመቆጣጠር ትግል ነው።

ሁቲዎች በባቤል አልመንደብ የሚያገኙት ተጽዕኖ እንዴት አንድ የባህር መተላለፊያ የኢኮኖሚና የጂኦፖለቲካ መሳሪያ ሊሆን እንደሚችል በተግባር እያሳየ ነው። ኢትዮጵያም ይህንን ትምህርት በጥንቃቄ መውሰድ አለባት። ቀይ ባህር እግራችን ካላረፈ ድምፃችን ተሰሚነት አይኖረውም።

6. ስለዚህ የኢትዮጵያ ስትራቴጂ ምን መሆን አለበት?

“Access to the sea” ከሚለው አስተሳሰብ ወደ “presence in the sea” መሸጋገር ነው። እንዴት በሚለው ላይ ጥናቶች ይቀረቡ፤ ውይይቶች ይደረጉ።

የዛሬው የቀይ ባህር ቀውስ ኢትዮጵያን እንድታስብ የሚያስገድድ ነው። የባቤል አልመንደብ አሁን እያሳየን ያለው የባህር ጂኦፖለቲክስ ለሌላ ጊዜ የሚተው ጉዳይ እንዳልሆነ ነው።

የተፈጥሮ እስር ቤት ተፈጥሯዊ እጣ ፈንታ አይደለም። የጂኦግራፊ ገደብ ሊኖር ይችላል፤ ያ ገደብ ግን በጥሩ ስትራቴጂ ሊሰበር ይችላል።

Ethiopia and its political Crisis

 Ethiopia’s political crisis cannot be fully explained by a struggle over power, territory, or ethnicity. At its core lies something more enduring and psychologically corrosive: the belief that the country has a permanent center and a permanent periphery. As a sociologist deeply engaged with Ethiopian politics, I have come to believe that this center-periphery trap explains our cycles of conflict more clearly than most conventional political theories.

Sociologist Edward Shils argued that almost every society contains a centre, a symbolic zone of authority, legitimacy, identity, and sacred values, and a periphery whose attachment to that centre becomes weaker and more alienated over distance, exclusion, or unequal incorporation. In Ethiopia, this is not an abstract academic framework. It is a lived historical reality that has shaped the fears, memories, and political behavior of nearly every community.

For more than a century, Ethiopia’s political and cultural center was largely associated with highland elites and institutions. Many southern and lowland communities experienced this center not as a shared national home, but as a site of domination; politically, culturally, and economically. Languages were marginalized, identities suppressed, and resources extracted unevenly. Whether one interprets this history as state-building, empire formation, modernization, or internal colonialism, the emotional consequence was the same: millions of people came to see themselves as peripheral to the Ethiopian state.

The introduction of federalism in 1991 promised to resolve this historical imbalance by empowering previously marginalized groups and decentralizing the state. Yet while it weakened the old center, it did not abolish center-periphery Breaking the Centre-Periphery Trap in Ethiopia: A Sociological Reading

Ethiopia’s political crisis cannot be fully explained by a struggle over power, territory, or ethnicity. At its core lies something more enduring and psychologically corrosive: the belief that the country has a permanent center and a permanent periphery. As a sociologist deeply engaged with Ethiopian politics, I have come to believe that this center-periphery trap explains our cycles of conflict more clearly than most conventional political theories.

Sociologist Edward Shils argued that almost every society contains a centre, a symbolic zone of authority, legitimacy, identity, and sacred values, and a periphery whose attachment to that centre becomes weaker and more alienated over distance, exclusion, or unequal incorporation. In Ethiopia, this is not an abstract academic framework. It is a lived historical reality that has shaped the fears, memories, and political behavior of nearly every community.

For more than a century, Ethiopia’s political and cultural center was largely associated with highland elites and institutions. Many southern and lowland communities experienced this center not as a shared national home, but as a site of domination; politically, culturally, and economically. Languages were marginalized, identities suppressed, and resources extracted unevenly. Whether one interprets this history as state-building, empire formation, modernization, or internal colonialism, the emotional consequence was the same: millions of people came to see themselves as peripheral to the Ethiopian state.

The introduction of federalism in 1991 promised to resolve this historical imbalance by empowering previously marginalized groups and decentralizing the state. Yet while it weakened the old center, it did not abolish center-periphery politics itself. Instead, it reproduced the same logic with new actors and new geographies. Moreover, regional centers emerged, often creating their own internal peripheries. The political struggle remained fundamentally unchanged: who controls the center, and who fears exclusion from it.

This is where Ethiopia’s deepest political wound lies.

Groups that perceive themselves as occupying the center fear that losing power will expose them to revenge, displacement, humiliation, or punishment for historical injustices, whether real, exaggerated, or imagined. Meanwhile, groups that see themselves in the periphery mobilize intensely to capture state power because they believe only control of the center can guarantee dignity, protection, and survival. The result is a vicious cycle: one group captures the center, another rises to displace it, and every victory simply creates a new periphery with fresh grievances.

What makes this dynamic especially dangerous is that it transforms politics into an existential zero-sum game. The centre fears displacement, and the periphery grieves marginalisation. Within this context, election cease to be normal democratic contests and instead become struggles over collective survival. Every federal appointment, security reform, language policy, budget allocation, or constitutional debate becomes interpreted through the lens of security and historical fear. In such an environment, conspiracy thinking flourishes naturally because each side assumes the other will behave exactly as it fears.

Even our cultural expressions reveal how deeply this political imagination persists. Songs and political narratives that fears ‘losing the centre’ and ‘being pushed to the periphery’ expose an underlying feudalistic assumption that some groups are naturally entitled to rule while others are destined to remain marginal. This mentality is not merely rhetorical; it reproduces the emotional architecture of domination and revenge that has haunted Ethiopian politics for generations.

The tragedy is that every group eventually experiences both roles. Yesterday’s center becomes today’s periphery; today’s periphery seeks tomorrow’s center. But because the structure itself remains unchanged, no victory produces lasting stability. The trauma simply rotates.

Breaking this cycle requires more than constitutional reform or elite bargaining. Ethiopia needs a profound sociological transformation: the construction of a genuinely shared national center that every community feels it permanently belongs to.

Not a rotating dominance. Not symbolic inclusion without power. And not forced assimilation disguised as unity. What Ethiopia requires is a civic center built on equal belonging, a political order where every culture, language, religion, and historical memory is treated as part of the national core rather than as an appendage to it.

This is why the ongoing Ethiopia National Dialogue Commission represents such a critical opportunity. The dialogue process should move beyond narrow elite negotiations and explicitly confront Ethiopia’s center-periphery dilemma. Historical grievances must be acknowledged honestly, not weaponized selectively. The process must facilitate difficult conversations about state formation, exclusion, violence, identity, and belonging without reducing them to simplistic binaries of victims and villains.

At the same time, transitional justice mechanisms are essential. Ethiopia cannot build a shared future by suppressing historical pain, but neither can it survive if history becomes an endless instrument of revenge. Transitional justice must therefore be paired with an elite political pact: a clear national agreement that no group will use state power to collectively punish another, and that political competition will no longer operate through ethnic domination.

Equally important is the reconstruction of federal institutions so they are visibly fair, impartial, and trusted by all citizens. Institutions matter because people obey states not only through coercion, but through perceived legitimacy. When citizens believe the judiciary, civil service, security sector, universities, tax systems, and development programs are captured by one group, the center immediately loses legitimacy in the eyes of others.

This is where modern governance tools can play an important role. Transparent, technology-driven systems, including carefully designed AI-assisted administrative systems, could help reduce human bias in resource allocation, recruitment, service delivery, and public administration. Technology alone cannot solve political distrust, but measurable fairness and institutional transparency can gradually build confidence that the state serves citizens equally regardless of ethnicity, religion, language, or region.

Ultimately, Ethiopia’s future depends on whether it can escape the old feudal imagination that divides people into rulers of the center and inhabitants of the periphery. The country will remain trapped in recurring instability until every Ethiopian feels they possess a permanent and respected place within the national center itself.

The sociological diagnosis is clear: Ethiopia’s conflicts are sustained not only by material inequalities, but by competing fears of exclusion from the symbolic and political center of the state. The political task is therefore urgent and historic: to build a center that heals rather than rotates the trauma of marginalization, a center that belongs equally to all Ethiopians. itself. Instead, it reproduced the same logic with new actors and new geographies. Moreover, regional centers emerged, often creating their own internal peripheries. The political struggle remained fundamentally unchanged: who controls the center, and who fears exclusion from it.

This is where Ethiopia’s deepest political wound lies.

Groups that perceive themselves as occupying the center fear that losing power will expose them to revenge, displacement, humiliation, or punishment for historical injustices, whether real, exaggerated, or imagined. Meanwhile, groups that see themselves in the periphery mobilize intensely to capture state power because they believe only control of the center can guarantee dignity, protection, and survival. The result is a vicious cycle: one group captures the center, another rises to displace it, and every victory simply creates a new periphery with fresh grievances.

What makes this dynamic especially dangerous is that it transforms politics into an existential zero-sum game. The centre fears displacement, and the periphery grieves marginalisation. Within this context, election cease to be normal democratic contests and instead become struggles over collective survival. Every federal appointment, security reform, language policy, budget allocation, or constitutional debate becomes interpreted through the lens of security and historical fear. In such an environment, conspiracy thinking flourishes naturally because each side assumes the other will behave exactly as it fears.

Even our cultural expressions reveal how deeply this political imagination persists. Songs and political narratives that fears ‘losing the centre’ and ‘being pushed to the periphery’ expose an underlying feudalistic assumption that some groups are naturally entitled to rule while others are destined to remain marginal. This mentality is not merely rhetorical; it reproduces the emotional architecture of domination and revenge that has haunted Ethiopian politics for generations.

The tragedy is that every group eventually experiences both roles. Yesterday’s center becomes today’s periphery; today’s periphery seeks tomorrow’s center. But because the structure itself remains unchanged, no victory produces lasting stability. The trauma simply rotates.

Breaking this cycle requires more than constitutional reform or elite bargaining. Ethiopia needs a profound sociological transformation: the construction of a genuinely shared national center that every community feels it permanently belongs to.

Not a rotating dominance. Not symbolic inclusion without power. And not forced assimilation disguised as unity. What Ethiopia requires is a civic center built on equal belonging, a political order where every culture, language, religion, and historical memory is treated as part of the national core rather than as an appendage to it.

This is why the ongoing Ethiopia National Dialogue Commission represents such a critical opportunity. The dialogue process should move beyond narrow elite negotiations and explicitly confront Ethiopia’s center-periphery dilemma. Historical grievances must be acknowledged honestly, not weaponized selectively. The process must facilitate difficult conversations about state formation, exclusion, violence, identity, and belonging without reducing them to simplistic binaries of victims and villains.

At the same time, transitional justice mechanisms are essential. Ethiopia cannot build a shared future by suppressing historical pain, but neither can it survive if history becomes an endless instrument of revenge. Transitional justice must therefore be paired with an elite political pact: a clear national agreement that no group will use state power to collectively punish another, and that political competition will no longer operate through ethnic domination.

Equally important is the reconstruction of federal institutions so they are visibly fair, impartial, and trusted by all citizens. Institutions matter because people obey states not only through coercion, but through perceived legitimacy. When citizens believe the judiciary, civil service, security sector, universities, tax systems, and development programs are captured by one group, the center immediately loses legitimacy in the eyes of others.

This is where modern governance tools can play an important role. Transparent, technology-driven systems, including carefully designed AI-assisted administrative systems, could help reduce human bias in resource allocation, recruitment, service delivery, and public administration. Technology alone cannot solve political distrust, but measurable fairness and institutional transparency can gradually build confidence that the state serves citizens equally regardless of ethnicity, religion, language, or region.

Ultimately, Ethiopia’s future depends on whether it can escape the old feudal imagination that divides people into rulers of the center and inhabitants of the periphery. The country will remain trapped in recurring instability until every Ethiopian feels they possess a permanent and respected place within the national center itself.

The sociological diagnosis is clear: Ethiopia’s conflicts are sustained not only by material inequalities, but by competing fears of exclusion from the symbolic and political center of the state. The political task is therefore urgent and historic: to build a center that heals rather than rotates the trauma of marginalization, a center that belongs equally to all Ethiopians.

Over view on the coming Ethiopian election

 Ethiopian Election

Ethiopia approaches its 2026 national election with the outward form of democracy, but without its animating force.

There is process, but little belief.

There is participation, but little expectation.

There is an election, but little sense that power is truly at stake.

The ruling Prosperity Party is assumed to prevail. The opposition, fragmented and politically weak, has failed to present a credible alternative capable of mobilizing the population. Public debate exists, but it does not penetrate daily life.

It reflects a deeper condition: a political system that reproduces itself while limiting the possibility of meaningful challenge.

Elections, in such a system, serve to confirm power, not contest it.

For a country like Ethiopia, this has consequences that go beyond politics.

Because when elections cease to function as instruments of choice, they also cease to function as mechanisms of integration. The population is counted but not mobilized. It is included procedurally but excluded materially.

And in a moment of economic strain, that distinction becomes dangerous.

At the same time, Ethiopia is undergoing reforms shaped in large part by the logic of external discipline, particularly through engagement with the International Monetary Fund.

These reforms promise stability:

Lower inflation.

Controlled deficits.

Market-based allocation of resources.

But stability, in this framework, is defined narrowly.

It stabilizes accounts, but not necessarily production.

It reassures creditors, but not necessarily citizens.

It disciplines the state but does not transform the structure of the economy.

An economy that remains dependent on imports, on a narrow export base, on external finance, cannot be stabilized into development. It can only be stabilized into managed vulnerability.

This vulnerability is now exposed.

Rising fuel costs, foreign exchange shortages, and internal conflict are not isolated pressures. They are expressions of a deeper structural condition: an economy that consumes more than it produces, and depends on external systems it does not control.

In such a context, political forms matter.

An election that lacks credibility does not simply fail as democracy.

It removes one of the few remaining mechanisms through which tension can be absorbed peacefully.

Economic hardship then finds other expressions, regional, social, and eventually, potentially violent.

Toward alignment with actors such as the United Arab Emirates. Toward strategic competition over access to the sea.

These moves are often framed as assertions of national interest.

Because a country that has not consolidated its internal economic base cannot project power externally without weakening itself further.

External ambition, in this context, becomes a substitute for internal transformation.

Ethiopia’s best reset is not to become the model pupil of austerity, nor the loudest claimant of sea access, nor the supplicant of embattled Gulf monarchies.

It is to become, for the next 12 to 18 months, a state of protected production.

To protect fuel, not as a commodity, but as a condition for agriculture and transport.

To protect foreign exchange, not for consumption, but for necessity and production.

To protect roads and markets, not through militarization, but through de-escalation.

To protect national cohesion, not through rhetoric, but through restraint.

And to protect sovereignty, not by aligning with one external power, but by negotiating with all while depending on none.

This is not a retreat from reform.

It is a redefinition of it. Because development does not begin with balance sheets. It begins with the capacity to produce, to feed, and to sustain a population without permanent external dependence.

In this light, the election takes on a different meaning.

It is not simply about who governs.

It is about whether the system can renew itself, or whether it continues to reproduce a structure in which political control and economic dependency reinforce each other.

If the election is not seen as meaningful, it will not stabilize the system.

It will reveal its limits.

The path forward is neither ideological nor dramatic.

It requires abandoning illusions:

That austerity alone can produce growth.

That external alliances can substitute for internal strength.

That political control can replace legitimacy.

What is required instead is a focus on the material foundation of the nation.

Production.

Distribution.

Cohesion.

Without these, no election, however organized, can secure stability.

With them, even imperfect systems can endure and evolve.

Ethiopia stands at a point where adjustment is no longer sufficient.

What is required is transformation.

The Death of Free Movement: Pontification from the sky and luxury resorts vs. Ethiopia’s reality

 When citizens cannot move freely, the state loses its most basic measure of legitimacy. Ethiopia today is a country divided by mobility, where the rulers travel above, and the ruled are trapped below.

In recent weeks, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed and senior Prosperity Party (PP) officials and long-time confidants have embarked on a series of high-profile tours to luxury resorts and heritage sites scattered across Ethiopia’s far corners and built under the Prime Minister’s Gebeta Lehager (Dine for Ethiopia) initiative. The initiative incorporates these complementary luxury resorts like the Halala Kella resort, Gorgora Eco Resort, and the latest, Sof Omar Luxury Lodge and Cave Project, among others. They are not only there to transform the country’s natural and historical treasures into world-class destinations, but are telegraphed as the greatest opportunity for Ethiopians to “discover” their own country.

In principle, these projects aim to blend eco-tourism with community empowerment. In practice, however, they have become the stage for what many see as performative nationalism, a carefully choreographed display of “unity” and “prosperity” that contrasts sharply with the lived experiences of millions of Ethiopians who cannot move freely across their own country.

During his latest address to the House of Peoples’ Representatives on 28 October, Prime Minister Abiy offered a revealing metaphor: “we lead not as a taxi driver but as a bus driver,” he said, describing Ethiopia as a bus under the direct control of his government. But for countless Ethiopians – truckers, traders, students, and patients – this metaphor rings painfully hollow. Under this “driving,” large stretches of Ethiopia’s transport network have become zones of fear, extortion, and paralysis.

Just a month earlier, in September 2025, the Prime Minister himself had convened national security chiefs to discuss the worsening situation of “robberies and kidnappings” on the country’s roads. “The movement of people and goods is crucial for Ethiopia’s prosperity,” the statement he released after the meeting warned, promising for better coordination between security forces and the public to “systematically control robberies, kidnappings, and obstacles that occur in various places”. The acknowledgment was welcome, but the crisis has only deepened since.Across Ethiopia’s main commercial and passenger routes, particularly in Oromia region attacks, abductions, and road closures have become routine. In May 2025 alone, drivers’ associations reported more than 30 truck drivers were abducted in just two weeks on different routes in Amhara region, with dozens more incidents recorded elsewhere. Many roads remain closed for days or even weeks at a time.

According to recent findings by the state-appointed Ethiopian Human Rights Commission (EHRC), road closures, curfews, and widespread insecurity have severely restricted movement across multiple regions, a systemic collapse of safe passage that has fractured trade, family connections, and daily life. Earlier, officials from the Ministry of Revenues and the Customs Commission admitted before Parliament that hundreds of illegal checkpoints are now operated by regional authorities and other groups, especially in Oromia, using them for informal toll collection. It is a striking confession, but safe to say the federal government has effectively lost control over movement on its own highways.

A joint study released in July this year by the Ministry of Trade and Regional Integrationand the Ministry of Transport and Logistics has revealed the existence of a staggering 237 illegal checkpoints across Ethiopia, many established by regional police, militia structures, and local administrations under the pretext of creating “youth employment.”The Prime Minister’s metaphor of the bus driver may be meant to symbolize his ability to galvanize “unity” and laser-focused direction, but the lived reality for those who actually drive the roads in Ethiopia tells a different story. There is no better place to comprehended this contradiction than a regular visit to a poplar social media channel known as Ye Shoferoch Dimts (the voice of drivers). It is a channel where the stories of curtailed hours, ransom demands ranging from tens of thousands to millions of birr, detentions, beatings, and constant interruptions truckers come to light. For them, each journey is a gamble with violence and extortion.

While the ruling elite pose for photo opportunities at Sof Omar Caves or inaugurate new eco-lodges amid armed escorts and helicopters flights, those who move the country’s goods and people are stranded, endangered, or extorted. The narrative of “unity” and “nation-discovery” collapses into contradiction: a government celebrating mobility, while millions are immobilized. The Prosperity Party’s heritage tours and tourism campaigns are choreographed expressions of performative nationalism; a spectacle of “rediscovering Ethiopia” that assumes a secure and accessible country is a dissonance between elite tourism and basic immobility.But freedom of movement is not a privilege; it is the foundation upon which all other civic and economic rights depend. The EHRC’s findings and endless reports by this publication and other media outlets make clear that road travel across large parts ofthe country is increasingly unsafe and restricted by state and non-state armed actors and illegal levies. When the state cannot ensure safe circulation (when movement itself becomes hostage to violence) citizenship becomes a form of containment.

Simply put, a government’s legitimacy is not measured by the luxury of its lodges or the pageantry of its “nation-discovery” tours. It is measured by whether its citizens can move freely and safely within their own borders.

42 countries issue joint statement to UN expressing concern over shrinking civic space in Ethiopia

 Forty-two countries issued a joint statement to the United Nations expressing concern over the human rights situation in Ethiopia, citing restrictions on fundamental freedoms less than a year before the 2026 elections.

“We remain concerned about the challenging human rights situation in Ethiopia, including constraints on the rights to freedom of expression, peaceful assembly, and association,” the statement released last week said. It added, “We regret the closure of civic space in Ethiopia, including recent intimidation and suspension of civil society organizations.” The countries also noted concern about intimidation of independent media and journalists, calling for transparent investigations into such incidents.

The signatories said they “continue to be alarmed by the high number of human rights violations and abuses by both state and non-state actors,” as documented by the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights in its 2024 report. They further expressed grave concern over “the significant increase in grave violations against children, including the killing and maiming of children, sexual violence against children, and the abduction of children,” citing the 2025 report of the UN Secretary-General on Children and Armed Conflict.

“We call on the Government of Ethiopia and all other actors to take concrete action to end ongoing human rights violations and abuses in areas of conflict, including in  Oromia, and other regions” the statement continued. It urged an immediate end to “killings and injuries of civilians, torture, ill-treatment, enforced disappearances, arbitrary arrests and detentions, and attacks on civic infrastructure, as well as extreme levels of sexual and gender-based violence by different actors.” The countries pressed authorities to uphold human rights nationwide, ensure justice and accountability, and adopt “a victim- and survivor-centered approach.”

The joint statement also expressed concern over the lack of progress in Ethiopia’s transitional justice process. It recalled that implementing a credible transitional justice and accountability framework is “not only crucial for the victims and survivors but also for ensuring lasting peace and reconciliation in the country.”

The countries further urged the Ethiopian government “to constructively cooperate with the UN and other protection actors and respect their independence,” while calling on all parties to refrain from further violations and abuses and to engage in peaceful dialogue to restore stability.

Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have both raised alarm over proposed amendments to Ethiopia’s Civil Society Organizations (CSO) Proclamation. Amnesty, in a statement on 18 August, warned that the changes would reverse recent legal reforms and amount to a “total closure of civic space,” accusing the Ministry of Justice of conducting the process “in strict secrecy” with consultations limited to government-aligned groups. Human Rights Watch similarly urged lawmakers to reject the draft, cautioning that it would grant the federal government sweeping powers to restrict nongovernmental organizations. Both rights groups called on Ethiopia’s international partners to press the government to halt the amendments and stressed that any reforms should comply with international human rights standards.

Ii is described the proposed amendments to the Civil Society Organizations (CSO) Proclamation as more than bureaucratic reform, calling them “a direct assault on freedoms of association, expression, and accountability.” The editorial warned that by granting the state sweeping control over funding, leadership, and activities of CSOs, the draft law revives the spirit of the repressive 2009 regime that silenced civic voices for nearly a decade. It further highlighted that vague “national security” clauses embedded in the draft could be used to shut down dissent and erode the remaining civic space, hallmarks of absolute authoritarian control. The editorial concluded that if enacted, the law would dismantle the hard-won gains of the 2019 CSO Proclamation.

The importance for immediate peace in Ethiopia and needs a united call for peace now more than ever

 Despite repeated assurances from Ethiopia’s political and military elite, the country stands at a critical inflection point. Sporadic conflicts in #Oromia and the other regions, and the continued use of military force continue to persist, and the potential unraveling of the Pretoria peace agreement is real. All of them have pushed the country to the edge. Ending these wars is not a matter of political preference, it is a matter of national survival. The question now is not whether peace is necessary, but whether there is enough collective will to demand and build it.

Peace is not simply the absence of war; it requires inclusive, functioning institutions that mediate conflict and foster justice. Unfortunately, Ethiopia’s institutions have shown little of the integrity or impartiality needed to fulfill this role.The Caucus of Ethiopian Opposition Parties has made clear, in a recent statement, the serious concerns regarding the legitimacy and conduct of two key national bodies: the National Dialogue Commission (NDC) and the National Electoral Board of Ethiopia (NEBE). In the past, this publication argued that the NDC was established through a process that ignored vital contributions and amendments proposed by the opposition which will lead it to operate with exclusionary and partisan intent. Its failure to correct course and redeem its legitimacy in the eyes of all is symptomatic of a deeper malaise: the erosion of trust in its independence.

As the Caucus rightly warns, to proceed with elections under current conditions may invite not political resolution but further chaos.These failings underscore a broader national crisis: the entanglement of so-called independent institutions with the ruling party, and the transformation of public mechanisms into conduits of state control. When oversight bodies and civic processes are hollowed out, the state loses its moral legitimacy.

Political theorist Benedict Anderson argued that nations are imagined communities – social constructs held together by shared narratives, symbols, and collective memory. Nationhood, in his view, is not a fixed inheritance but an ongoing project of imagination and inclusion. This is especially true in societies where multiple histories, languages, and identities coexist in tension.In Ethiopia, however, the state continues to assert a singular national narrative, branding dissenting voices as threats to “unity.” But there is no sustainable unity that excludes.

Anderson reminds us that the most dangerous illusion is to confuse state authority with national identity. The nation is not the property of a party, a government, or even a historical myth. It is a space of negotiation, imagined and reimagined by all who belong to it. Today’s Ethiopia is fragmented not just by war but by a crisis of imagination. What vision binds its people together? What common future can be claimed in a nation where independent dialogue is suppressed, branded as a threat to national security, and elections are feared rather than welcomed?

Ethiopia’s future cannot be built on the ruins of its present. Every community has suffered. Every child kept from school, every mother who mourns a son, every family displaced by violence is part of this country’s unraveling. And yet, each of them also represents the possibility of rebuilding. Calls for peace are not acts of neutrality; in today’s Ethiopia, they are acts of patriotism. Ending war is no longer optional, it is the only path forward; it is a national interest. Let us silence the guns. Not in repression, but as the first step toward reconciliation. Let us reclaim Ethiopia as a shared, imagined community, one that belongs to all its people, not a privileged few. 

#Justice #Freedom #democracy