Ethiopian Modernization Opportunities and Derailments

ETHIOPIAN MODERNIZATION: OPPORTUNITIES
AND DERAILMENTS
MESSAY KEBEDE
Ethiopian Modernization: Opportunities and Derailments
Messay Kebede
October 2023
Epigraph
The most beautiful constitutions and codes of law are empty words unless they are enforced.
People do not have rights because their rights are natural, written somewhere, or flowing from
group solidarity, or pledged by confidence-inspiring leaders. People have only those rights that
they can effectively defend.
ii
Author’s Note
The desire to allow open access to a large number of Ethiopian readers explains the reason why
this manuscript was not submitted to a normal academic publisher. At first, an academic institute
in Addis Ababa agreed to meet the condition by publishing a limited number of hard copies while
also posting an open access electronic version on its website. Unfortunately, the agreement fell
apart following my resolution to include a chapter critical of Abiy Ahmed’s policy, the current
prime minister of Ethiopia. In light of the drastic political shift that carried Abiy from the promise
of democratic changes to the too-familiar resort to dictatorial methods, a scholarly investigation
could not leave out this turn of events without compromising its standing. All the more reason for
including the shift is that it provides a decisive argument to the main thesis of the manuscript,
namely, the active presence of a faulty dynamics within the Ethiopian state structure derailing the
implementation of positive reforms since Ethiopia’s encounter with the modern world. Aware of
the closure of any possibility for open access posting in Ethiopia so long as the present government
is in place, I decided to send out the manuscript to some of the websites stationed outside Ethiopia
and regularly visited by Ethiopian intellectuals and a wide Ethiopian readership. I hereby extend
my gratitude to the editors and webmasters of the websites I contacted for agreeing to post the
manuscript in its entirety.
iii
Contents
Epigraph
List of Abbreviations
Note on Ethiopian Names
Introduction
1. On Theories of Modernization
2. Survey of Ethiopia’s Survival: Definition and Controversies
3. The Ethiopian Forces of Survival
4. Eurocentric versus Ethio-centric Approaches to Ethiopia’s Modernization Lag: Introducing the
Concept of Derailment
5. Derailed Modernization: The Imperial Phase
6. The Radicalization of Ethiopian Students
7. The Overthrow of the Imperial Regime
8. Derailed Modernization: The Derg’s Phase
9. Derailed Modernization: The Ethnonationalist Phase
10. Where to, Ethiopia?
11. Recapitulation and Therapeutic Roadmap
iv
Abbreviations
EPLF Eritrean People's Liberation Front

EPRDF Ethiopian People's Revolutionary Democratic Front
EPRP Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Party
Derg frequently used for PMAC (Provisional Military Administrative Council)
MEISON Mela Ethiopia Socialist Party Niqinaqe (All-Ethiopia Socialist Movement)
TPLF Tigray People’s Liberation Front
WPE Workers’ Party of Ethiopia
v
Note on Ethiopian Names
Since the custom in Ethiopia does not use family names, the book identifies Ethiopians by their
first name rather than their last name. The latter, which is the father's first name, is not used to
identify a person; it is simply an addition to the real name, namely, the given first name.
vi
Introduction
This book examines and theoretically articulates the various facets and crucial phases of Ethiopia’s
encounter with the modern world and the challenges its efforts to modernize faced during the
course of three consecutive yet highly divergent political regimes. 1 These phases roughly
correspond to Haile Selassie’s and post-Haile Selassie’s Ethiopia, with the post-period spreading
over two milestones, namely, the revolutionary shift of the Provisional Military Administrative
Council (the Derg) and the no less critical reshaping of the Ethiopian political system by an
ethnonationalist agenda subsequent to the Tigray People's Liberation Front’s (TPLF) seizure of
state power. Despite their drastic differences, a main theme deriving from a shared feature unites
these three regimes: using different ideological frameworks, they all promised modernization and
social progress under the directive of a strong and centralized state. Not only did the promise never
materialize, but it was also overshadowed by social conflicts and even civil wars, the severity of
which has created doubt in the minds of many observers as to the viability of Ethiopia as a united
country. The book exerts a major effort to analyze the cause and the different manifestations of
the common feature tying the three regimes, with the view of laying out its detrimental impact and
identifying the direction liable to remove it. To this end, the book extends its inquiry into post-
TPLF Ethiopia to see whether the current Abiy Ahmed’s government is putting in place the
reforms needed to deal with the chronic problems of the country.
An important characteristic of this study is the problematization of Ethiopia’s
modernization through the grid of basic modernization theories, notably of their recurrent theme,
“modernization versus tradition.” The study argues that the theme itself reveals that modernization
involves the goal of survival through changes enabling a given ruling class to cope with internal
and/or external challenges. Unrests due to internal fractures or threats coming from belligerent
neighbors are generally believed to trigger the need to acquire new and improved means through
political and socioeconomic changes. In other words, the book proposes the following thesis:
when ruling classes develop the survival will conceding the necessity of reforms, they initiate a
promising change, the very one synthesizing tradition with modernization. By contrast, the option
to simply uproot tradition brings about the revolutionary type of change, which has proven, more
often than not, its inability to succeed in generating the basic features of modernity.
In addition to firmly binding modernization to survival, the assumption squarely places the
failure to modernize on the refusal or impotence to change traditional features and norms. Such a
failure considerably reduces the ability to respond effectively to the challenges and, therefore, to
defend the integrity and continuity of the existing social system. Just as changes in heritable traits
boost the survival chance of living forms in biological evolution, so too modernization is a societal
change that upgrades a social formation’s ability to overcome threats. The obvious differences
with biological evolution are that (1) social changes do not implicate heritable traits, since they
deal with institutional, socioeconomic, and cultural factors; (2) they are conscious and goal-
oriented and, as such, they implicate human decisions and are transmitted through learning and
acculturation. Still, the issue of survival through upgraded ability is their shared characteristic, all
2 ETHIOPIAN MODERNIZATION: OPPORTUNITIES AND DERAILMENTS
the more so as modernization gives advantages, and so compels other countries to react defensively
by implementing similar or equivalent changes.
The involvement of survival brings about a change of approach, for it questions the
derivation of the motive to modernize from the natural aspiration of people to improve their
conditions of existence. Not that the change of approach completely rejects the propelling impact
of the aspiration to a better life, but because it maintains that, by itself, the aspiration cannot initiate
and shoulder the necessary changes that modernization requires. It is better understood as a fallout
of the means and opportunities generated by modernization. The order of causation does not go
from the aspiration to social development, but from the growth of material forces to the desire for
a more comfortable life. To reverse the order of causation is, as the saying goes, to put the cart
before the horse. It is to create a false problem, that is, a problem that cannot be solved for, in the
powerfully insightful words of Karl Marx,
No social order ever disappears before all the productive forces for which there is room in
it have been developed, and new, higher relations of production never appear before the
material conditions of their existence have matured in the womb of the old society.
Therefore mankind always takes up only such problems as it can solve, since, looking at
the matter more closely, we will always find that the problem itself arises only when the
material conditions necessary for its solution already exist or are at least in the process of
formation.2
In other words, pure voluntarism ignores a basic social law, which is that a projected change, no
matter its nature, cannot materialize unless the appropriate objective conditions are already in
gestation.
The corollary of the precedence of aspiration over actual material possibilities is obvious:
instead of supporting the effort of modernization, it will stand in its way, which is admittedly one
of the problems of developing countries. The precocity of desire turns modernization into a fantasy
rather than an objective reachable through hard work, sacrifices, and realistic planning. Some such
warning reminds us of the guidance contained in the famous speech of Louis-Antoine-Léon de
Saint-Just, one of the leaders of the French Revolution, when he said, “happiness is a new idea in
in Europe.”3 The prospect of prosperity, born of Europe’s technological and economic
advancements, not only invented the idea of happiness on earth, but also presented it as an
achievable pursuit. Precisely, in distinction to the gratification of desire, survival involves a motive
entrusting members of a given social community with the duty to serve a higher cause, be it
nationalism, a religious calling, cultural integrity, or any other cause. This kind of commitment
elevates people beyond individualism and purely hedonistic pursuits, and so demands and obtains
more from them. Equally important is the fact that survival calls for the kind of changes upgrading
the defensive capacity of a given nation. As such, it necessitates the full mobilization of the
nation’s human resources, which mobilization calls for the implementation of a social change
strengthening national integration through the recognition of equal rights, just as it commands the
development of technological capability and a self-reliant economy, since the goal is to produce
enough wealth to build a dynamic material basis and a sustainable military force.
When applied to Ethiopia, the main thesis of modernization school, to wit, the belief that
the persistence of tradition is the major obstacle to modernization, fails to be sufficiently
operational. In particular, it passes over the fact that some features of Ethiopia’s traditions do not
fit, as the following chapters will demonstrate, the qualification of being unfriendly to a
INTRODUCTION 3
modernizing process. Since the framing of the failure to modernize in terms of modernity versus
tradition proved to be insufficient, the other avenue, which is to blame colonialism for the failure,
is found to be irrelevant as well in light of Ethiopia’s success in repelling colonial attacks. Added
to Ethiopia’s long and epic history of independence in a hostile environment, the success highlights
survival as the defining ethos of Ethiopian polity. Once the attempt to blame tradition is put aside,
the remarkable record of survival calls for a change of perspective in the explanation of why
Ethiopia’s modernization is long in coming. Notably, it presses for the assumption that Ethiopia
squandered its numerous modernizing assets because of deviation in the wrong direction. The
assumption becomes stronger when we note that successive attempts to correct the direction, far
from providing adjustments, increasingly plunged the country into a self-destruct momentum from
which it seems unable to extricate itself. In short, Ethiopia’s modernization was not, and still is
not, so much blocked by inherited traits as derailed.
Let me be more specific. A derailment occurs when a train runs off its rails, even if it does
not leave the track. Granted that it can have many causes, like mechanical failure, collision, and
human error, its analogical use in this book specifically points to the conductor, that is, to the
political leadership of the modernization project. Moreover, the blame for the derailment is put not
on human errors, but on the deliberate usage of imported modern means and methods as enablers
in the pursuit of a non-modern goal, the gist of which is the achievement of political absolutism.
To the extent that means and methods are diverted from their original objective, the inevitable
consequence of the deviation is the cumulative aggravation of social ills. What is more, the
momentous nature of derailment appropriately captures the common feature that runs through the
regimes of Haile Selassie, the Derg, and the TPLF. In a word, this study shows how the disjunction
between means and goals, in installing political absolutism in the name of modernization, ruined
the opportunities that brought the three regimes to power, each time leaving the country in greater
shambles. In view of the overarching goal of political absolutism, another synonymous expression
for derailment comes to mind, which is hijacked modernization, with the understanding that
hijacking emphasizes the political aspect while derailment is more general in that it blends the
political side and the underlying structural operations.
So analyzed, Ethiopia’s failure to modernize takes a tragic connotation, given that the
failure is nothing else than a self-inflicted incapacity. Moreover, the elucidation of the failure
becomes a complex issue that defies the usual way of explaining the underdevelopment of African
countries. So that, considering the long survival of Ethiopian polity and its numerous political and
cultural assets, as well as its military resistance to repeated external encroachments, including
those of colonial forces, the spectacle of a destitute and conflict-ridden “modern” Ethiopia remains
a puzzle even if it is subsumed under the general concept of derailment. The effort to comprehend
must, accordingly, mobilize different tools from various disciplines of social sciences as well as
philosophy. Accounting for the Ethiopian failure is less about identifying obstacles and more about
showing how the modernizing project repeatedly collided with itself.
The unfolding of this self-colliding process begins with Haile Selassie’s launching of a
program of modernization that prides itself on integrating modernity with tradition. Laudable as
the program was, it did not deliver the promised benefits. Neither tradition was preserved, nor was
the goal of modernization achieved. Instead, a political system counteracting the advances of
modernization was put in place. All the same, it remains true to say that Haile Selassie’s regime
has laid the foundational components of modernization in Ethiopia and that all that followed can
be construed either as a reaction against or a continuation of his legacy.
Widespread and profound frustrations over the promised benefits of modernization despite
Haile Selassie’s long reign led to a revolutionary uprising that demanded total change and the
rebuilding of the country on the basis of the Marxist-Leninist ideology and principles of social
organization. The conviction was that a tabula rasa policy was necessary to get rid of the two main
obstacles blocking the progress of modernization: on the one hand, the imperial system, the landed
class, and the burgeoning but outdated bourgeois class and, on the other, the system of inequality
favoring one ethnic group over other ethnic groups. The revolutionary solution was believed to
have the distinct advantage of killing two birds with one stone, that is, of eliminating class and
ethnic impediments at the same time.
Even though the revolutionary phase was committed to rebuilding everything anew, it
nevertheless remained unconditionally loyal to Ethiopia’s unity, historical identity, and territorial
integrity. The third deconstructive phase, which overthrew the revolutionary regime, saw a
contradiction between the unconditional commitment to Ethiopian unity and the promise to end
ethnic inequality. Its thinking was that the removal of ethnic inequality requires nothing less than
the liberation of the various ethnic groups forcibly integrated into the “Amhara empire.” Only thus
can they recover their right to self-rule and develop their culture. Some such goal of liberation
necessitates the creation of a new Ethiopia based on the free consent of sovereign ethnic groups, a
sovereignty that includes, among other things, the right to secede if they so wish. And as though it
were carried by an overpowering impulse toward a graver derailment, the promised liberation of
ethnic groups turned into the absolute hegemony of the group claiming to represent the Tigrean
minority ethnic group. This frustrating outcome led to a general uprising against the TPLF’s rule.
The above consecutive and deep-going alterations denote a process breaking with the trend
of normal social evolution, even by a revolutionary standard. The fact that the course of change
went through such radical twists and turns shows, first, that Ethiopians have lost control of their
modernization process; second, that there is an embedded derailing factor that prevented each
regime from correcting the direction and engaging in a normal course of change. The common
derailing factor stands out when one admits the disheartening idea that the reforms as well as the
revolutionary measures taken to advance modernization were all introduced with one goal in mind:
the retention and expansion of absolute power. Because such an absolute control over Ethiopian
society counteracted the introduced changes, it naturally derailed the process of modernization.
Thus, Haile Selassie’s reforms were tied to the goal of instituting and consolidating imperial
autocracy. The Derg’s revolutionary measures were no different: in the name of socialism, all
spheres of life came under a totalitarian system. In addition to fragmenting Ethiopia’s social system
along ethnic lines, the TPLF jealously preserved and even strengthened all the dictatorial
restrictions put in place by the Derg, its ultimate objective being the institution of a lasting politico-
economic ascendancy of the Tigrean elite.
To demonstrate the presence of a common self-inflicted inability in the three consecutive
regimes, the book proceeds according to the following order. First, it analyzes some representative
theories of modernization with the view of identifying concepts, historical experiences, and
theoretical perspectives that would be relevant to understanding the case of Ethiopia. As mentioned
above, two important issues emerge, namely, the link between survival and modernization and the
theme of tradition versus modernity. A detailed study of the long survival of Ethiopia follows, with
emphasis on its confrontation with colonial forces. The study’s main goal is the identification of
the forces that enabled the survival of Ethiopian polity in both precolonial and colonial times. The
result is that these forces emanate from the geographical, cultural, and sociopolitical makeups of
the country.
INTRODUCTION 5
The identification of the forces logically invites a reflection on the contrasting paths of
Japan and Ethiopia. While the two countries are comparable in their survival will, they responded
differently to colonial encirclement and threats. The top echelon of Ethiopia’s leadership, unlike
the Japanese ruling class, did not feel the pressure to take far-reaching modernizing measures. The
book identifies the reason as being the southern expansion, as a result of which Emperor Menelik
considerably increased the size of his empire. The expansion made available significant additional
material and human resources that were judged sufficient to ward off threats. This confidence
reduced the urgency of profound reforms and encouraged the belief that an enlightened and pro-
Western monarch, provided that he commands enough power, could very well modernize the
country without too much disruption. Stated otherwise, thanks to a tight centralization and a policy
of nation-building through assimilation, an enlightened and pro-Western imperial autocracy can
put the country on the right path to modernization. As could be expected, the lack of deep-going
reforms generated a hybrid system in which modern means were used to enhance some elements
of the traditional system that were not in tune with modernization. In particular, it installed a
powerful imperial autocracy and a parasitical landed class, with far-reaching consequences,
especially in the southern part of the country.
Economic stagnation, ethnic inequality, rigid social stratifications, and an unabated policy
of repression combined with the eruption of acute and topical socio-economic crises in the early
70s led to urban protests spearheaded by a highly radicalized student movement. The civilian
protests quickly extended to military camps as a result of which a military committee known as
the Derg was formed. The Derg started to imprison high officials of the regime and finally deposed
the emperor and assumed full power. The turning point occurred when the Derg, abandoning its
initial nationalist program, adopted the Marxist-Leninist ideology and social program advocated
by the student movement. Soon after the adoption, a series of revolutionary measures that
completely altered the socioeconomic foundation of the country followed, like the nationalization
of all urban and rural lands, industries, and important services. The implementation of these
measures and the installation of the organizations needed for their functionality strengthened the
dictatorial rule of the Derg and its supporters. This dictatorial rule increasingly leaned toward the
personal dictatorship of Mengistu Haile Mariam, who ended up as the unchallenged leader of the
Derg.
The main drawback of the consolidation of the military takeover was a persistent lack of
peace subsequent to continuous wars in various fronts, especially against guerrilla forces in Eritrea
and Tigray. This condition of incessant war drained the resources of the state, which became
unable to finance and launch the planned development programs. Consequently, the expected
economic growth stagnated and even turned negative with people experiencing a sharp
deterioration in their material conditions of existence. Furthermore, in addition to completely
losing its popular support, changes in the international alignments of forces deprived the Derg of
the military assistance of the Soviet camp, which was going through a social and ideological
turmoil at that time. The outcome was the complete military defeat of the Derg in the hands of
northern insurgents, who marched on Addis Ababa and seized power on May 28, 1991.
Despite promises of democratization, it did not take long for the victorious TPLF
insurgents to show their real face. Their leadership opted for a federal system, but based on the
fragmentation of Ethiopia’s national unity along ethnic demarcations. As mentioned above, the
declared goal of ethnic federalism is to achieve equality by providing each ethnic group the right
to self-rule. However, the system is so designed that the TPLF remains the hegemonic force at the
federal level and, through it, in regional states. The openly undemocratic nature of this severe
political imbalance in the entire federal system enabled members of the TPLF and the Tigrean elite
to exert full control over the national economy and the military and repressive apparatuses of the
state. Obviously, the promised change proved to be nothing more than a Tigrean substitution for
the denounced Amhara hegemony, with, however, the added feature of more troubles ahead, given
that the TPLF represented the rule of a minority ethnic group in a federal system designed to
foment continuous disunity among ethnic groups. The ethnic grievances against a highly repressive
rule of an ethnic minority elite, combined with its disproportionate stranglehold on the economy
and the distribution of wealth, ignited protests in various parts of the country and brought down
the TPLF’s rule.
In sum, the fate of the three consecutive regimes points to the same failure, which is their
absolute inability to put Ethiopia on a steady and progressive course of modernization. Reflecting
on the discrepancy between their declared goal and their actual performance, the final chapter
underscores their shared reluctance to reform the state and the distribution of power. All of them
used the state to control absolute power and exclude contenders, the end purpose being to get a
firm grip on the economy, the distribution of wealth, and on other interests. One can extrapolate
from their removal that the fate of the government that replaced the TPLF will also depend on its
willingness and success to reform the state in the direction of inclusiveness. Alas, despite all sorts
of reformist promises, the replacing government of Abiy Ahmed continued to operate within the
same political structure and ideological framework as the TPLF, the only difference being the
attempt to substitute an Oromo hegemony for the Tigrean one, thereby reconfirming the vigor of
the underlying derailing force.
Needed, therefore, is the genesis of a political system that can tackle the challenges of
modernization by calling on and activating the full participation of all the social forces. The
strategy of a selected elite assuming the planning and implementation of modernization through
the absolute control of a centralized political system simply reproduces a colonial model of
development, the only difference being that native elites spearhead the process rather than white
colonizers. This kind of development cannot be anything other than a dependent development,
both in its international and internal dimensions, that is, a development inserted into a dominant
neocolonial order aiming at profiting the metropolitan centers and their local, native agents.
Evidently, an excluding system cannot design and implement a national strategy of development:
in turning its back to a policy of national inclusiveness and participation and the building of a self-
reliant economy, it shows that it is only interested in harnessing the country to the Western engine
driving the neocolonial order. This interest is proof enough that a strategy of development
sponsored by an exclusionary state is congenitally incapable of promoting and implementing a
sustainable national policy of modernization. Hence the call in the final chapter of this book for a
sweeping reform of the Ethiopian state in the direction of inclusiveness, the only way by which
the derailed process of modernization can be put back on the right rails. Embedded in this call is
the need to initiate culture change: without the right transformation of beliefs and values, the
disjunction between means and goals caused by the pursuit of political absolutism can never be
closed. Only when the mind operating the modern means nurtures the values and beliefs that go
with modernity can modernization follow the path of success.
1
Many of the ideas developed in this book are drawn from the books and articles on Ethiopia that I wrote after the fall
of the Derg. I ask the reader to refer to these books and articles for additional clarifications. To limit to books, they
are: Meaning and Development (Amsterdam and Atlanta: Rodopi, Value Inquiry Book Series, 1994); Survival and
INTRODUCTION 7
Modernization—Ethiopia’s Enigmatic Present: A Philosophical Discourse (Lawrenceville, N.J.: The Red Sea Press
Inc., 1999); Radicalism and Cultural Dislocation in Ethiopia, 1960-1974 (New York: University of Rochester Press,
2008); Ideology and Elite conflicts: Autopsy of the Ethiopian Revolution (Lanham: Lexington Books, 2011).
2
Karl Marx, “Excerpt from A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy,” Basic Writings on Politics and
Philosophy (New York: Anchor Books, 1959), 44.
3
Saint-Just, “A New Idea in Europe,” The Idea of Europe: Enlightenment Perspectives, June 6, 2017,
https://books.openbookpublishers.com/10.11647/obp.0123/ch1-61.xhtml
Chapter I
On Theories of Modernization
The vast literature pertaining to development and modernity discloses philosophical questions that
instigate the controversies dividing the various theories of modernization. Of these philosophical
issues, the most crucial and recurrent is the question of the prime factor or mover of modernization.
The reason for the philosophical issue of primacy derives from the fact that modernization involves
cultural as well as socioeconomic changes. Following the philosophical distinction between the
spiritual and the material, the clash between the two basic schools of idealism and materialism
frames the philosophical approach around the question of knowing whether the prime cause of
modernization is cultural or material. Let us elaborate on this point further.
Philosophy of Modernization
Essential in culture changes associated with modernization is the appearance of new beliefs
and values, and this fits into the philosophical school of idealism according to which beliefs and
values play the primary role in the explanation of human actions and institutions. By contrast,
materialism, best represented by Marxism, emphasizes the primary role of material conditions of
life, arguing that beliefs and values are byproducts of the material basis of social life. Before
reviewing the implications of the conflict over primacy, let us indicate in broad terms what is
meant by modernization and culture.
Many, if not most, scholars would give their content to the following definition:
Modernization theories include an amalgam of views on economic growth, which

contributes to increased productivity of goods and services; political development,
which leads to stable governmental and administrative structures as well as to
increased popular participation in the affairs of the state; secularization, which
helps in the emancipation of individuals from traditional obligations to religion and
extended kin; rationality in public decision-making as well as private pursuits of
individual goals; and individualism, which contributes to the advancement of
individual well-being through increased effort to each and all for personal gains
and happiness.1
So defined, modernization seems far removed from an explanation involving commitments to

traditional beliefs and obligations. If the latter are still looming, it is as remnants and, as such,
doomed to inevitable extinction. Doubtless, Marxism gave this view a most radical turn. In
announcing the restoration of the naturalness of human beings, it has predicted the inevitable
triumph of materialistic values. The triumph will be all the more thorough the more the alienating
effect of idealism will be forcefully exposed.
Though culture is diversely defined, most scholars agree in interpreting culture as a shared
system of beliefs, values, and customs. Specifically, culture designates the full realm of beliefs
and behaviors that are learned and shared through the socialization process. To quote Edward B.
Taylor, it is “that complex whole which includes knowledge, belief, art, morals, law, custom, and
any other capabilities and habits acquired by man as a member of society.”2 As a learned and
transmitted phenomenon, culture delineates the members of one group and distinguishes it from
other groups. Systemness is another important characteristic of culture in that it is composed of
various interrelated elements realizing a unified, if not always coherent, whole. As a product of
human learning, culture is not a static phenomenon, either. Changes can come from inside the
culture or can be triggered by exogenous forces, such as environmental alterations or contacts with
other cultures.
Given that most scholars reject the biological transmission of the contents of culture, both
its diffusion and preservation derive from a deep sense of commitment of members sharing the
culture. Parents consider the transmission of their values, beliefs, and habits as part of their parental
duty. This sense of duty as the underlying form of cultural transmission seems to advise against a
deterministic interpretation of culture. That is why scholars speak of rules, obligations, and
prohibitions when they characterize the contents of culture. For example, identifying culture with
society, Emile Durkheim defines the social as a source of obligations, as recognizable by the
“power of external coercion which it exercises . . . over individuals.”3 The emphasis on obligation
reveals the moral dimension of culture and its connection with modernity. The fact that culture
allows and prohibits is crucial to modernity, since modernization occurs as a result of changes that
necessarily prompt their appraisal in terms of what the culture permits or forbids.
The philosophical question is not whether culture changes in the modernization process,
but whether the change precedes the material, structural change of society. According to the
idealist approach, to say that altered beliefs and values primarily explain modernization is to
emphasize the crucial role of motivation in understanding human actions and achievements. The
motivation naturally arises from people wanting to change the conditions of their life in accordance
with their new beliefs and values. Accordingly, the spur of modernization should be primarily
assigned to culture change, which then explains the corresponding socioeconomic alterations.
Norman Long underlines the influence of philosophical idealism when he asserts that
modernization theory “believes that attitudinal and value changes or re-interpretations of ideology
are essential prerequisites to creating a modern society and economy.”4 The impacts of the
Renaissance and Reformation, which are mostly philosophical, religious, and scientific events, on
the modernization of Europe provide a powerful argument in favor of the idealist approach. Indeed,
many scholars situate the beginning of European modernity in the cultural changes arising from
the Renaissance and Reformation. In so doing, they contend that culture changes came first and
laid the ground for the industrialization of Europe.
For Marxist materialism, before having religious beliefs, political ideas, or philosophical
convictions, humans must produce in order to survive. As life is unthinkable without production,
anything important or significant must, directly or indirectly, be referred to the fundamental
activity of the production of material life. In the words of Karl Marx, “the mode of production in
material life determines the general character of the social, political, and spiritual processes of life.
It is not the consciousness of men that determines their existence, but, on the contrary, their social
existence determines their consciousness.”5 Consequently, a theory of modernization is definitely
1 ON THEORIES OF MODERNIZATION 11
on the wrong track if it places the drive to change in the mind, in the beliefs and values of
individuals. People do not change their mode of life because they have new ideas; they have new
ideas because their material mode of life has changed or is in need of change. Thus, Europe owes
its modernization to the rise of the bourgeoisie, which is itself the product of the changes that
terminated the medieval age. Insofar as these changes “gave to commerce, to navigation, to
industry an impulse never before known, they rendered the feudal system obsolete.”6
The philosophical antagonism between idealist and materialist approaches leads to
different practical consequences. For the idealist explanation, if you want to modernize a country,
you must first change the thinking of the people, especially of leading groups. Nothing activates
the modernization of a country better than the rise and spread of progressivist ideas and values.
Once the mind is changed, people develop the conviction that the material environment must also
change in accordance with their new beliefs. For materialism, the idealist approach is based on the
false philosophical premise of the autonomy and sovereign power of human will. People do not
change their mode of life because they simply want to change it, but because the acquisition of
new material means enables them to solve the contradictions obstructing their actual
socioeconomic conditions of life. When beliefs change, it means that the old ones have become
obsolete and irrelevant as a result of changed material conditions and that new and relevant ones
are emerging from the new conditions. Only when humans are in possession of new material
powers, for instance, a novel technological capability, itself arising from material needs, do they
generate new and corresponding ideas and beliefs.
In spite of their important differences, Marxist materialism and idealism share the belief
attributing the rise of modernity to a change that breaks with the past, whether the change is
primarily cultural or material. For both of them, the formula “modernity versus tradition”
encapsulates the problematics of modernization. According to Everett Hagen, “a society is
traditional if ways of behavior in it continue with little change from generation to generation,” if
it “tends to be custom-bound, hierarchical, ascriptive, and unproductive.”7 In effect, is not the term
“traditional” often used to describe a society that refuses to change its social organization and
system of production as well as its thinking and beliefs because it considers the preservation of the
past as its solemn duty? The opposition between tradition and modernity implies, therefore, that
innovation or creativity demarcates the two notions. A society can be defined as “modern” if its
features show a propensity to change whenever the need to do so arises. Otherwise stated, the
difference between the two notions boils down to the strength of the power of authority, and this
means that the process of modernization begins when the authority of the past is noticeably on the
wane. Without a decrease in the hold of authority and authority figures, thinking and behavior
cannot dissent from customary norms of thinking and doing. While for Marxism, contradictions in
the mode of production activate dissent, for idealism, contradictions, whatever they are, are not
enough: for change to occur, the mind must first modify its traditional beliefs and values.
Modernity versus Tradition
Let us see how the opposition between modernity and tradition plays out in various theories and
how traditionalism gives way to change. One influential example that jumps to mind is G. W. F.
Hegel’s philosophy of history. Hegel bases his understanding of the rise and nature of modernity
on the power of enlightenment to change the world. For him, history is not a mere collection of
disparate events; it has a direction, and a goal, which is the realization of freedom. He writes,
“Universal history . . . shows the development of the consciousness of Freedom. . . . This
development implies a graduation—a series of increasingly adequate expressions or

manifestations of Freedom.”8 Moving stage by stage, history realizes the idea of freedom: it
increases the consciousness of individual rights and autonomy, implements corresponding social
and political changes, and enhances human productive capacities to achieve greater control of
natural resources. The gradual replacement of resistant backward beliefs and values with
enlightened ones is thus the manner the antagonism between tradition and modernity plays out.
So long as traditional ideas dominate the minds of people, superstitions, irrational and
dogmatic beliefs, and static views of the social order command their thinking. Above all, their
mind being totally focused on otherworldliness, they devalue worldly pursuits. The power of
knowledge dissipates ignorance, and in so doing turns the focus of the mind on secularism,
worldliness, and advancements of human desires and abilities. When people become more and
more aware of their freedom, they value their inner dignity, and so become more determined to
defend their rights and liberties. They thus feel the urge to change their conditions of life so as to
make them conformable to the new perception of themselves. Speaking of the force of the
awareness of freedom, Hegel says, “When individuals and nations have once got in their heads the
abstract concept of full-blown liberty, there is nothing like it in its uncontrollable strength.”9 For
him, the French Revolution was a crucial moment in the realization of freedom. Under the
influence of the thinkers of the Enlightenment, the revolution made the people aware that what
they want most is freedom. The social and cultural upheavals that the revolution caused
demonstrate the power of the awareness of freedom.
It must not be made to seem that the dissipation of traditionalism is synonymous with its
complete eradication. For Hegel, negation is not destruction: history would not be a continuous
and progressive course if each negation started from zero instead of building on the past.
Accordingly, the function of negation is to purify, enhance, and further develop tradition. What is
realized at a given time is just a stoppage in a forward-going movement, and so must be negated
to liberate the forward movement. The movement yields development if it continues the past by
purifying and enhancing it. Just as what is implicit in the seed becomes explicit in the various
stages of the development of the plant, so too the seed of freedom, implicit in the first phases of
history, is increasingly rendered explicit through various stages of realization until it reaches its
final phase, namely, modernity. “Progress,” says Hegel, “merely renders explicit what is implicit
in a notion.”10 However, one must keep in mind that the transition from the implicit to the explicit
is not a spontaneous and straightforward occurrence; it involves negation by which what is already
realized is overcome by a higher stage that preserves it as its moment.
Another version of the notion of historical change as negation and continuity is found in
Max Weber’s theory on the relationship between Protestantism and the emergence of the spirit of
capitalism. Relying on the comparative study of religions, Weber draws the idealist conviction that
ideas, especially religious ones, exercise an independent influence on a society's economic activity.
His study convinces him that towns and regions mostly populated by followers of Protestantism
were economically more active than those dominated by Catholics or followers of Orthodox
Christianity. He attributes this higher economic interest to the Protestant idea of predestination,
which he says has been instrumental in developing a rational attitude, as opposed to ritualistic
worldviews. Arguably, if the question of salvation is already settled in the sense that the afterlife
of each individual is predetermined, recourse to rituals, confessions, intercessions, etc., is
pointless. By contrast, what comes to the forefront is the question of knowing whether one is
among the elect or the damned. Accordingly, the belief that God has already decided the fate of
each individual and that the individual cannot change his/her destiny sets off an intense anxiety
over the question of one’s eternal fate.
According to Weber, this anxiety fostered the need to look for an indication of election and
led to the belief that good works, done systematically, are “indispensable as a sign of election.
They are the technical means, not of purchasing salvation, but of getting rid of the fear of
damnation.”11 What could better serve as a sign of election than a successful productive life?
Economic success depends on hard work, continuous investment, and the use of rational and
efficient methods. It also requires that economic activity be divorced from the mere satisfaction of
needs and the indulgence in sensual pleasures. Its overriding goal is the uninterrupted growth of
profit, by which success is also objectively appraised. As could be expected, this protestant ethic,
that is, a life devoted to productive work, releases such a systematic and frenetic pursuit of
economic success that “man is dominated by the making of money, by acquisition as the ultimate
purpose of his life.”12 As a test of election, the accumulation of wealth for the sake of accumulation
explains the shift of Christianity to growing secularism and worldliness. Poverty, monastic
detachment, and withdrawal from worldly activity cease to be the marks of a holy life. Instead, the
systematic and rational conquest of the world becomes the expression of deeper spirituality. In
addition to condemning all unscrupulous methods of making money, Protestantism changed what
used to be seen as greed into a religious accreditation.
The point is that the new religion did not reject Christian beliefs and values; it altered them
in the direction of worldliness and rationalism by purifying and strengthening them. Because the
change was done in the name of authentic Christianity, it enhanced the power of religion, even as
it went against such established beliefs as the power of absolution granted to priests or the view
that sees good works as a means to salvation. The belief that individuals are saved if they do more
good than bad and, most of all, if they ask for forgiveness through confession, diminishes the
power of faith and allows the conduct of a life that stands in the way of a rigorous moral life.
Protestantism removes the obstacle by the advocacy of a life systematically committed to hard
work and productiveness, which precisely diverts from the path of sins. As Weber puts it, “The
Reformation meant not the elimination of the Church’s control over everyday life, but rather the
substitution of a new form of control for the previous one. It meant the repudiation of a control
which was very lax.”13 Clearly, as with Hegel, negation means the correction and upgrading of
tradition. In purifying the Christian tradition, Protestantism achieved an upgraded, developed form
of Christianity. In doing so, it exalted a life committed to productive work, and this gave birth to
the modern spirit of capitalism. The theory confirms the primacy of culture change, since it
attributes the change of values and beliefs to a purifying motive of a religious commitment, the
consequence of which was the birth of capitalism and associated transformations.
Weber's idea of establishing a causal link between Protestantism and capitalism could not
but raise objections, mainly because such a link cannot explain the industrialization of non-
Protestant and non-Western nations. Hagen easily brandished the argument of “economic growth
effectively led by Roman Catholics, Shintoists, Buddhists, adherents to the Orthodox Christian
faith . . . and avowed atheists.”14 For him, as stated previously, the key concept that explains
modernity is creativity, innovation. Understanding how and why creativity is released is, therefore,
grasping the inner force that brings about modernity. So conceived, the question of modernization
sums up to knowing why individuals in a given social group are no longer attached to the
traditional ways of doing things.
For Hagen, the loss of attachment happens as a result of a psychological change induced
by what he calls “withdrawal of status respect.”15 The phenomenon occurs when, well-placed
families in a given society lose their original hegemonic status consequent to external invasions or
internal uprisings. This loss, Hagen believes, has a definite impact on the family as it ushers in the
weakening of parental authority, especially that of the father, who understandably suffers from the
loss and is prone to a depressive state of mind. The retreatism of the father means that he is no
longer keen on molding his offspring in the traditional way, and this compels the mother to step in
and take up the full responsibility of raising children. However, since the mother cannot become a
model to her sons, she instead inculcates in them the value of self-reliance, which grows later into
a creative personality. The sequence of change is as follows: “authoritarianism, withdrawal of
status respect, retreatism, creativity.”16 In short, the cause of modernity is to be found in the change
of child-rearing methods, which is a cultural episode.
Hagen vindicates his thesis by the study of the historical processes that led to the
industrialization of England, Japan, and other countries. The important thing is to understand that,
when people are under the pressure of withdrawal of status respect, they choose economic success
rather than any other outlet. The reason for the choice is obvious enough: because activities
associated with trade, finance, and production are despised in a traditional society, they are the
only pursuits that remain open to them. Moreover, given their situation, economic success appears
to them as the best way to regain respect and status. Being a personal achievement as well as a
source of social power, wealth removes humiliation and reinstates the lost social rank. The case of
dethroned classes brings us back to the same rule that governs positive culture changes, namely,
the infringement of tradition but for the purpose of recovering it in an upgraded form. The process
reiterates the function of negation as a necessary means to achieve a change in modernizing
tradition.
This short review of selected representative theories of modernization raises the question
of knowing whether the Marxist conception of modernity exhibits a similar understanding of social
change, given its divergent materialist principles. Without a doubt, the Marxist denial of any
deterministic impact to beliefs and values is at the antipode of theories that give primacy to culture
change. Yet, there is another side to the issue, which is that Marxism shares an understanding of
negation and of history’s stage-producing-stage march that is close to that of Hegel. Consequently,
just as in Hegel, for Marx too, development proceeds through a series of negations enabling the
implicit to become explicit. Here is an example from Marx himself:
The capitalist mode of appropriation . . . produces capitalist private property. This is the
first negation of individual private property, as founded on the labor of its proprietor. But
capitalist production begets, with the inexorability of a natural process, its own negation.
It is the negation of the negation. This does not re-establish private property for the
producer, but gives him individual property based on the acquisitions of the capitalist era:
i.e., on co-operation and the possession in common of the land and of the means of
production.17
In growing from private holding to a socialized one, not only does property fit the industrialized
form of production, but it also puts an end to all exploitative relationships. The socialized stage is
thus the previous stage developed; as such, it incorporates and synthesizes all the positive
achievements of capitalism minus the outdated private ownership of the means of production.
Moreover, as Marxism believes that all civilizations started with communal ownership, which had
to be negated to move forward, the establishment of communism on the basis of the achievements
of the capitalist system constitutes a reinstatement of the original communal ownership but in a
higher form. We find the same process of the implicit becoming explicit through a form of
development involving a series of negations.
Let us go further. Despite its materialist assumption, the communist vision of the ideal
society is no stranger to values inherited from Christianity, as the profound meaning of the
Christian message on human equality strongly suggests. Unfortunately, says Marxism, neither the
established churches nor the so-called Christian states attempted to implement here on Earth the
Christian ideal of equality. Instead, they reserved its implementation to life in the hereafter, thereby
devaluing real life in favor of an illusory life. To correct this straying course, the belief in the
illusory life must first be derived from the real distressing conditions of life. The derivation reveals
that religion “is at the same time the expression of real distress and the protest against real
distress.”18 So understood, the negation of religion means the elimination of the illusory
component while retaining the protest to realize, in real life, the deferred Christian idea of equality.
The Ethos of Survival

The admission of some similarities between Marxism and modernization school must not blind us, to
say it again, to the irreconcilable differences that separate the two schools. One such difference is the
manner social change is implemented. Besides believing that a change in the value and belief systems
causes modernization, the school of modernization maintains that the transformations do not
necessitate revolutionary upheavals. Revolution implies deep social transformations such that, in
addition to radical economic changes, it causes the removal, often in a violent way, of the ruling class.
Precisely, according to modernization theory, these revolutionary events happen each time ruling
elites fail or refuse to make the necessary changes in time. When elites take the initiative to reform
their society before it is too late, they prevent revolutions.
Now, if we ask the reason why ruling classes are willing to implement changes, that is, to go
against, at least partially, their own system of beliefs, the only answer that makes sense is to say that
they do so to salvage their power and economic interests. For them, reforms preempt social revolution
or defeat at the hands of an expansionist neighboring country, which means in both cases the end of
their political and economic hegemony. Reforms are thus sacrifices necessary to save what is
important, namely, the preservation of their political and economic standing. This insight asserts that
change does not occur for the sake of mere change; change has a function in that it “restores the
equilibrium” of a social system threatened by disruptive forces.19 W. W. Rostow is a leading
theoretician of this interpretation: for him, the need to ward off external and/or internal threats
explains the reason why ruling classes take the resolution to introduce changes. He writes: “Men
holding effective authority or influence have been willing to uproot traditional societies not, primarily,
to make more money but because the traditional society failed—or threatened to fail—to protect them
from humiliation by foreigners.”20
How does modernization protect ruling classes from humiliation? As we saw, modernization
is a process of deep societal transformations by which a country changes from traditional, premodern
to modern society. All the features of modernization, such as industrialization, urbanization, increased
participation of citizens in the affairs of the state, secularization, and social mobility, go hand in hand
with the adoption of new technologies and efficient methods of production. This, in turn, makes
modern societies wealthier and more powerful nations, and thus more able to offer a higher standard
of living to their citizens as well as to build a reliable and well-equipped military force. These social
changes, to the extent that they bring about a more open society by weakening rigid social
stratifications, ensure a better national integration, thereby fostering stable governmental and
administrative structures. In becoming wealthier, more powerful, and better integrated, modern
societies provide a better defense against internal disruptions as well as foreign interventions.
Evidently, the best way to counter external threats is to have a society that is not weakened by deep
internal fractures and disturbances.
It follows that the failure to modernize must be attributed to a significant weakening of the
defensive will of ruling classes, either because of insurmountable internal obstacles or conflicts inner
to the classes or simply because of sheer heedlessness of impending dangers. Be it noted that the
defensive will does not directly tie modernization to the goal of providing better conditions of life and
happiness to society. Nor does it imply that economic prosperity stems from a sudden burst of hedonic
pursuits following the removal of existing restrictions. True, both hedonic motivations and the goal
of social welfare have some impact, but they presuppose an underlying drive, which is the survival
will of ruling elites. Even though the will is self-serving, it mobilizes social forces because ruling
elites identify their own survival with the defense of national sovereignty and integrity. According to
Rostow, defensive nationalism or, better said, “reactive nationalism”––a term that Rostow uses to
distinguish it from aggressive nationalism of the fascistic type—reacts “against intrusion from more
advanced nations” and “has been a most important and powerful motive force in the transition from
traditional to modern societies, at least as important as the profit motive.21 Some such approach coins
modernization in terms of duty, obligation to traditionality, to the inherited legacy of national identity
and culture. The focus being more on building the ability to counter militarily threats, the betterment
of the conditions of life is a fallout rather than a direct goal. For societies under external or internal
threats, the deep motivation for modernization is the defense of national sovereignty under the
leadership of a ruling elite that is willing to make reforms, even if these reforms curtail some of its
traditional privileges. When modernization is viewed as a means to protect national freedom and
sovereignty, the motivation moves from the level of desires, such as greed or comfort, to the austere
and exacting level of duty accomplishment.
The emphasis on the powerful motivation of nationalism does not entail the conclusion that it
is the only and universal path to industrialization. We just saw with Weber that the motive could be
religious as well. However, we also indicated that the religious change amounted to a purification of
Christian beliefs, which purification obviously points to a reaction to a perceived threat to the integrity
of Christianity. One thing is sure: reactive nationalism explains the motivation behind the
modernization of countries that are latecomers, for instance, that of Japan or some East Asian
countries. But does it also apply to firstcomers, to wit, the European countries? The answer is yes if
one keeps in mind that history shows that war, whether aggressive or defensive, has motivated great
technological inventions and deep reforms. Connect this historical evidence with the fact that Europe,
more than any other continent, has been replete with conflicts over national sovereignty and territorial
expansions, and it becomes clear that nationalism, with its intense demand for the mass manufacture
of modern weapons, has been a major agent in the industrialization of European countries. The
modernization of Germany and the long-drawn-out Franco-British rivalry are shining examples of
the role of nationalism. True, serious theoreticians have linked the modernization of the continent to
important cultural breakthroughs, like the Renaissance, the Reformation, and the Enlightenment. But
as we have tried to show, these cultural events were reinstatements of traditionality at a higher level.
As was the case with the Reformation, the ideas of the Enlightenment presuppose a culture that had
internalized the Christian ideal of human dignity and equality. Effective or successful culture change,
whether it is inspired by nationalism or any other motive, like religion, exhibits, therefore, the same
process of upgrading inherent potentialities to cope successfully with challenging situations.
Failure to Change
The condition for the occurrence of successful culture changes gives a hint as to why change fails.
More often than not, failure is attributed to traditionalism, to the refusal to change, the extreme forms
of which are religious fundamentalism, tribalism, and ultra-nationalism. What is wrong with
traditionalism is not its eagerness to protect tradition, but its desire to do so without any change. Yet,
the true commitment to tradition would have been the willingness to change so as to be able to counter
challenges, obvious as it is that only modernization and economic growth can cope with internal
and/or external threats in a world propelled by modern ideas and technological advancements. In
avoiding change, traditionalism confirms the lack of a true salvational ethos and, consequently, the
absence of an active sense of duty. It wrongly believes that rigidity, purism, and repression are enough
to withstand challenges. Nothing could be more inefficient than to defend a belief system by a method
that, in compensation for the refusal to change, has recourse to inflammatory ideological fervor when
in reality modernization decides the fate of the battle. This demission authorizes us to say that
underdevelopment, which results from the refusal to change, is a human failure, an abdication of the
will.
In most cases, those who defend traditionalism maintain that it is possible to have it both ways,
that is, to preserve tradition intact and develop economically. At first look, nothing seems more
reasonable than this approach. It allows the preservation of traditional values while giving access to
technology and modern production methods. In thus keeping apart tradition and modernity, one
prevents the loss of identity without, however, hampering technological development. Unfortunately,
the attempt to separate the cultural from the material is unlikely to yield the expected positive
outcome, as demonstrated by countries advocating religious fundamentalism, among which we find,
for instance, many Islamic countries. The actual result of compartmentalization is not separation, but
the articulation of the traditional culture with modern elements, the consequence of which is that it
hampers the furtherance of the modernization process. Where there is articulation, one component
holds back the other necessary component owing to their incompatibility. Since keeping the two
compartmentalized does not bring about a thrusting change, the only way out is for the cultural itself
to change in the direction of providing the turn of mind and incentive to handle modern ideas and
technology.
One detrimental consequence of compartmentalization is the dissociation of economic
activities from the spiritual realm and ethical norms. A good illustration of this danger is the case of
Hinduism: according to S. N. Eisenstadt, “[Modernity] was established first of all in terms of Western
symbols and was to some extent disconnected from the great Indian cultural tradition.”22 This kind
of dissociation is also observed in many countries advocating religious fundamentalism. As a
result, activities related to material life were kept outside ethical and rational norms. When this
happens, unscrupulous and irrational methods of wealth acquisition are likely to proliferate at the
expense of efficiency, creativity, and productive investment. Convinced that the modernization of
India was on the wrong track of unleashing greed and moral laxity, Gandhi sought salvation by
connecting secular interests with traditional beliefs. He failed because his spiritual exhortations and
ascetic teachings presented him as just a holy man who has authority in spiritual matters but not in
matters related to business. All the more reason for people to think thus was that his emphasis on
ascetic practices appeared to be on the opposite side of modernity.
Another case of articulation is found in Latin American countries. The case presents a
paradox: whereas concerning Africa, Islam, and Hinduism, modernity amounted to the introduction
of alien beliefs and values generating cultural incompatibilities, the same cannot be said about the
Christian culture of elites in Latin American countries. This may suggest that the underdevelopment
of this part of the world should be ascribed to non-cultural factors. Far from it, as the shunning of
culture change stands out more than anything else. In Latin America, says Hagen, “Europeans
conquered the sparse indigenous populations, settled in considerable numbers, and lived their lives
according to their own cultural patterns.”23 In other words, the elites did not develop the achieving
ethos of immigrants; they were just conquistadors who simply settled in a conquered territory. The
contentment of these settlers with traditional means of wealth acquisition generated an agrarian
economy whose characteristic form of surplus appropriation rested mainly on the subjugation of
indigenous populations. Because methods of production were not revolutionized, articulation was
inevitable, and with it underdevelopment.
As alluded to earlier, under certain conditions, failure or delay to change can catapult a society
into a revolutionary course, as in the cases of the French, Russian, and Chinese revolutions. Thus,
speaking of the French Revolution, Barrington Moore writes, “commercial influences as they
penetrated into the French countryside did not undermine and destroy the feudal framework.”24
Consequently, unlike what happened in England, the failure to alter the feudal structure prevented the
transformation of the French nobility into a capitalist class, and this obstructed condition made a
revolutionary denouement inevitable. The same failure to introduce timely and relevant reforms
accounts for the explosion of revolutionary upheavals in Russia, China, and elsewhere. All these cases
confirm the absence of the salvational will, that is, of the will that is ready to effect the changes
necessary to ward off disruptive threats. To repeat, ruling elites develop the will to reform when they
perceive reforms as sacrifices necessary to salvage their socio-economic standings.
Revolutions are changes, but such that they empower fringe and extremist groups, usually
harboring utopian visions and having, in some cases, dubious moral standards. The refusal of ruling
elites to meet social demands with appropriate reforms often causes violent uprisings, which create
favorable conditions for the rise of fringe and radical groups to leadership positions. When this
happens, the probability is high for the implementation of a radical type of social revolution, which
not only replaces the ruling class with a new revolutionary elite, but also deeply alters the socio-
economic system and the cultural fabric, a change typical of Marxist-Leninist revolutions. As
subsequent developments show, this kind of uprooting change plunges society into an uncertain,
chaotic future, and this makes the recourse to dictatorial rule inevitable. The need to restore a
semblance of social order is an important reason why social revolutions usher in dictatorial forms of
government, frequently leading to one-man rule. This outcome, in turn, negatively impacts on the
modernization project, with the consequence that another round of reforms becomes necessary to
bring the society back into the normal, evolutionary type of change.
Modernization as Westernization
When we review the case of Black Africa, what jumps to mind is not so much the obstacle of
traditionalism as the ravages of colonization and colonial ideology. The internalization of the racist
discourse describing Africans as congenitally primitive, irrational, and good only for slavery brings
along the tacit or unconscious acceptance of the superiority of the West. The acceptance, in turn,
nurtures the belief that Western tutelage is the forced passage to modernization. Indeed, so
disparaging was the colonial discourse that many Africans welcomed Westernization, believing that
“a way of life which made it possible for [African] ancestors to be subjugated by a handful of
Europeans cannot be described as totally glorious.”25 To be sure, this welcoming trend was, shortly
after, countered by attempts to recover and revalue African cultures, as shown by the intellectual
movements of Negritude, African socialism, the thesis of Black Egypt, etc. However, these defensive
reactions were confined to academic circles, with little repercussions in African societies at large. Be
that as it may, the internalization of the disparaging discourse of colonialism dissociates
modernization from moral behaviors, for only the kind of change that aims at competitiveness and
efficiency would be in need of moral rules. Unfortunately, the status of a tutee induced by the
internalization little encourages the desire to become a matching counterpart to the West. The
dissociation generates a “spiritual vacuum,” which unleashes irrational, inefficient, and greedy
business practices, not to mention the inadequacy to establish democratic governments.26 These
features are all consequences of the dissociation, and it is this dissociation that prevents the
reinvention of modernity in terms of African cultures and aspirations.
The more we dig deeper into the colonial ideology equating modernization with
Westernization, the more we find that it accounts, more than traditionalism, for failed modernizations
in third-world countries. The ideology of Westernization directly derives from the conflicts between
tradition and modernity, as they manifested in Europe’s turbulent history. Yet, in total disregard for
the different cultures and historical legacies of non-Western countries, the ideology proposes the
European path as a universal panacea for modernization. Not only does the proposal mean that non-
Western countries have to go through the same breaks, but also that the changes they undergo must
be modeled on the West. Clearly, the assumption is that the “history of advanced or established
industrial countries . . . traces out the road of development for the more backward countries.”27
Accordingly, the cultural and social changes that preceded Western industrialization must be seen
as prerequisites to the modernization of non-Western countries.
The great attraction of this approach flaws from one assumption: knowing how economic
development came about in European countries is also knowing how it can be brought about
elsewhere. The philosophical foundation of the theory equating modernization with
Westernization originates from the historical scheme of a unilinear conception of history, in the
manner of Hegel or Marx. As we saw, the conception speaks of world history, that is, places all
countries in the same universal and historical process and ranks them as advanced or backward,
according as they show characteristics that are close to or far from those of the West. This means
that the conception assigns the same goal as the West to all countries and sees history as the
progressive, stage-by-stage realization of the goal. For Hegel, as mentioned earlier, this goal is
freedom so that freedom “is and has been the director of the events of the World’s History.”28
Since Europe shows the most advanced manifestations of freedom, it represents the future of non-
Western countries. Alas, owing to the ossification of their beliefs and institutions, these lagging
countries need the close and forcible tutorship of European nations to resume the historical process.
Hence, the design of the colonial project, which is nothing other than “a civilizing mission” with
the sole purpose of removing inner obstacles so as to inject some evolutionary momentum into
countries in a prolonged static state. According to his conception, otherwise known as
Eurocentrism, Europe is in the driver’s seat of history and the ultimate significance of colonial
subjugation is simply the European locomotive towing lagging countries into the progressive
course of history.
In presenting Western countries as the model that third-world countries must imitate, the
colonial version, besides sanctioning the ideology of the superiority of the West, expects that third-
world countries internalize the superiority and get down to the task of importing Western values,
institutions, and methods of work as faithfully as possible. It is worth noting that leaders in third-
world countries who advocated radical revolutions did not escape from the stranglehold of the
colonial ideology of Westernization, despite their noisy anti-Western rhetoric. They modelled their
thinking on Marxism, which echoes the Hegelian belief that all societies belong to the same
progressive course of world history. For such leaders too, the history and features of the West
displayed universal standards so that revolution was just an accelerated way of joining the path
that the West followed.
The outcome of the colonial idea of modernization through the imposition of the Western
model brought about neither economic advancement nor open societies. On the contrary,
underdevelopment stepped in with its shanty towns amidst a stagnating, even deteriorating rural
life. These disappointing results should not come as a surprise. An approach that puts down other
legacies is little able to generate the conditions for a successful modernization. For one thing, it is
unable to infuse the enthusiasm necessary to succeed in such a paramount and challenging task as
modernization. Some theoreticians go even further by saying that underdevelopment is a refusal,
a pathetic attempt to preserve one's cultural identity. Of course, the culprit here is Eurocentrism:
as an “assassination of civilizations” it could do no more than sow underdevelopment, which is
then tantamount to “a fearful resistance to development projects conceived in the West.”29
According to this view, underdevelopment is due neither to the unwanted persistence of traditional
culture nor to the constant pauperization resulting from a dependent status. Rather, it is the “last
impulse of self-preservation,” taking shelter under passivity and retreatism.30
The other point is that the colonial model of modernization rests on a major inner
contradiction: it defines modernity by the liberation of creativity, and yet it comes out in favor of
the imposition of an external model. To import everything from the West is not only to endorse
the notion that colonized peoples are congenitally incapable of advancements on their own, but it
is also to advocate actively the servile imitation of the West, and this can only inculcate an overall
mental and material dependency. Given that the liberation of the innovative spirit defines
modernity, the dependency resulting from the mimicking of the West places underdeveloped
countries nowhere near to giving birth to a modernizing drive.
For many theoreticians, the strategy of forcing third-world countries to pass through the
allegedly proven necessary and universal stages of development grossly misrepresents the
complex, varied, and undetermined course of history. The whole idea rests on the questionable
belief in the existence of historical determinism. As Norman Long warned, “we should guard
against converting historical facts . . . into the status of logical prerequisites since this implies the
untenable notion of historical necessity.”31 Whether one likes it or not, modernization is a historical
process and, as such, it deals with particularities and reproduces the ups and downs, the divergent
and convergent ways, in a word the inventive character of history. This understanding alone is
enough to discredit the idea that there is a universally applicable “science” of development.
Lastly, the theory of modernization as Westernization overlooks the extent to which
developing countries found themselves in a totally different condition from that of Western
societies when they started their march toward modernity. Some scholars, though belonging to the
modernization school, have portrayed the advanced countries, no more as models, but as fetters to
latecomers. Technological dependency, unfavorable division of labor, unequal competition,
demographic explosion, etc., are some of the “handicaps” that advanced countries pass on to
latecomers.32 Far from defining modernization as the process by which backward countries fashion
themselves on advanced ones, some such understanding advocates the recovery of autonomy and
the adoption of a confrontational strategy.
Diverse Roads to Modernization

The best way to prove that the colonial model of modernization induces underdevelopment rather
than yielding successful culture changes is to examine the case of countries that mapped out their own
path of development. I have in mind the modernization of some exceptional Asian countries, such as
Japan, Twain, Hong Kong, South Korea, and Singapore. These cases have provided additional
support to the school giving primacy to cultural factors. They have also forced some theoreticians of
modernization theory to give up the simplistic identification of modernization with Westernization,
as the mentioned countries, in addition to having cultural features and belonging to a historical region
markedly distinct from those of the West, did not follow a process of transformation modeled on the
West. Both the failures of the model of Westernization elsewhere and the reliance of the Asian
countries on their own cultural assets to score successful results convinced theoreticians that there is
no universal prototype for modernization. Instead, each country has to take the path that fits its
particularity in terms of culture, history, natural resources, and geographical position. Unlike
Westernization, the reliance on one’s own assets and particularities turns modernization into self-
development, in direct contradiction to the condition of self-denial that Westernization seems to
require.
Most interesting in this regard is the remarkable modernization of Japan. As has been said by
many scholars, the economic success of Japan cannot be attributed to an abundance of resources. It
cannot be ascribed to the initiative of a merchant class, either. Likewise, while the industrialization of
most European countries proceeded along the liberal line, that of Japan, as an offset to its
backwardness, took a greater authoritarian and traditional fashion, with the state playing a leading
role. Furthermore, the cultural change that promoted economic growth in Japan did not indulge in any
form of individualism, thereby refuting theories of change that make modernity dependent on the
decline of authority. Japanese achievement took the austere form of the accomplishment of duty vis-
à-vis the nation, the emperor. As Szymon Chodak notes, “none of the theories explaining personality,
behavior, or motives as individualistic ventures is applicable to Japan.”33
According to many theoreticians, nationalism has been the main driving force of Japanese
industrialization. Here is what a scholar wrote: “The great motive force in Japanese modernization
was the threat of absorption or destruction by the West. . . . Because of it, an essentially conservative
elite abandoned earlier theories and turned with great seriousness, if not total enthusiasm, to the task
of modernizing the nation.”34 The same author adds: “Samurai and others were exhorted to enter
industry and commerce ‘to save the nation’.”35 A pertinent confirmation of this nationalist ethos is
the pronounced military feature of the industrialization process. Japanese industrialization was first
and foremost a means to build up military strength in order to counter the threat of Western
imperialism and avoid the fate of China. The nationalist crusade, in turn, brought about the socio-
cultural changes necessary to implement the goal of industrialization. Thus, the Samurai were
exhorted to exchange their values of war for the values of business. Thanks to the Meiji Restoration,
the emperor was reinstated, but did not exercise real power. He thus became the “center of loyalty”
from which the nationalist calling emanated.36 In addition, the conservative ruling class undertook the
“defeudalization” of Japan: fiefdoms and all other feudal privileges were abolished.37 Though at first
the government developed its own enterprises, as soon as enough Japanese nationals had been trained
to operate the new industrial enterprises, the government sold them off to private entrepreneurs at
very low prices. Many scholars have also pinpointed the universalization of education, which opened
the possibility of integrating the common person into the state’s crusade for national salvation.
Nothing could better show the realization of an efficient culture change through the updating of
traditionality––whose outcome is the conversion of a traditional class and its values into modernizing
forces––than the case of Japan.
Equally supportive of the cultural argument is the success of East Asian countries. For one
thing, the national cultures of such countries as Taiwan, Hong Kong, South Korea, and Singapore,
also known as the “Asian Tigers,” are within the orbit of Sinitic civilization. For another, the absence,
as in Japan, of rich natural resources and geographical opportunities significantly strengthens the
explanation of their success by their common cultural heritages. Also, as in Japan, we find threats and
the quest for salvation playing a major role in the modernization of East Asian countries. Indeed, all
these countries faced serious threats subsequent to the spread of communism, especially from China
and North Korea, at the time of their take-offs. The need to counter the communist danger and thus
salvage the established values and system of power has been a powerful motive for modernization. It
meant building a strong economy both to deter external threats and curtail the attractiveness of
communism by improving domestic living conditions. The improvements prevented internal
discontents and unrests, which are always a beacon for communist infiltrations. The same need to
ward off the spread of communism persuaded U.S. policymakers to provide military and substantial
economic assistance to these countries.
The case of East Asian countries reconfirms the conditions of positive culture changes:
modernization becomes an assignment to counter threats, but by relying on and mobilizing the
potentialities of a given socio-cultural legacy. The work of actualizing the potentialities in conformity
with the needs of modernization is the updating process that leads to culture change. As regards East
Asian countries, the role of Confucianism was most central. It provided that “great capacity for
delayed gratification and discipline (especially on behalf of one's family).”38 Indeed, the cultural
explanation underlines the role of “familism” in the industrialization of East Asian societies.
Admittedly, traditional devotion to family values ensured the effectiveness of family business in East
Asian countries. Familism, of which filial piety is the highest value, unrolls a series of obligations,
among which are the duty to share resources, to fend for the family, and to establish a tight
collaboration between the members of the family in the management of economic affairs. As Gordon
Redding writes:
In a society where each family is dependent on its own resources for its survival, and where
each individual is in turn dependent on family support for so much in life, the person who is
not working as hard as he or she might for the common good will come under intense social
pressure.39
Now that we have gathered enough information about the causes of modernization and the
failure to modernize, we have all that is needed to analyze the case of Ethiopia’s modernization. To
be sure, the fact that Ethiopia has a long history of survival and has never been colonized tells us that
we are dealing with a special case. The record of a long survival enables us to earmark advantages,
but also invites us to pose the question of modernization in terms of botched opportunities in light of
the multiplication of serious challenges to Ethiopia’s survival in the present and recent part of its
history.
1
Baidya Nath Varma, “Modernization Theories: A Critical Review and New Directions,” The New Social Sciences,
(Westport: Greenwood Press, 1976), 139.
2
Edward B. Taylor, The Origins of Culture (New York: Harper Torchbooks, 1958), 1.
3
Emile Durkheim, The Rules of Sociological Method (New York: The Free Press, 1965), 10.
4
Norman Long, An Introduction to the Sociology of Rural Development (London: Tavistock Publications, 1977), 59-
60.
5
Karl Marx, “Excerpt from A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy,” Basics Writings on Politics and
Philosophy, ed. Lewis S. Feurer (New York: Anchor Books, 1959), 43.
6
Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, “Manifesto of the Communist Party,” ibid., 8.
7
Everett E. Hagen, On the Theory of Social Change (Homewood, Ill.: The Dorsey Press, 1962), 56.
8
G. W. F. Hegel, The Philosophy of History (New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1956), p. 63.
9
G. W. F. Hegel, Hegel's Philosophy of Mind (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2012), 261, Gutenberg eBook.
10
G. W. F. Hegel, The Logic of Hegel (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1874), p. 140.
11
Max Weber, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism (New York: Routledge, 1992), 69.
12
Ibid., 18.
13
Ibid., 4.
14
Hagen, On the Theory of Social Change, 17.
15
Ibid., 191.
16
Ibid., 217.
17
Marx, “Excerpt from A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy,” 166-67.
18
Marx, “Excerpt from “Toward the Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right,” ibid., 263.
19
Wilbert E. Moore, Social Change (Englewood Cliffs, N. J.: Prentice Halls, Inc., 1963), 10.
20
W. W. Rostow, The Stages of Economic Growth: A Non-Communist Manifesto (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1991), 26-27.
21
Ibid., 26.
22
S. N. Eisenstadt, The Protestant Ethic and Modernization (New York: Basic Books, Inc., 1968), 98.
23
Hagen, On the Theory of Social Change, 23.
24
Barrington Moore, Social Origins of Dictatorship and Democracy (Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1967), 55.
25
P. O. Bodunrin,"The Question of African Philosophy," African Philosophy (New York: University Press of America,
1984), 7.
26
Messay Kebede, Africa’s Quest for a Philosophy of Decolonization (New York: Rodopi, 2004), 26.
27
Alexander Gerschenkron, Economic Backwardness in Historical Perspective (New York: Frederick A. Praeger,
1965), 6.
28
Hegel, The Philosophy of History, 8.
29
Thierry G. Verhelst, No Life Without Roots (London: Zed Books Ltd, 1990), 19, 22.
30
Ibid., 19.
31
Long, An Introduction to the Sociology of Rural Development, 66.
32
Karl de Schweinitz, Industrialization and Democracy (London: Macmillan, 1964), 251.
33
Szymon Chodak, Societal Development, (New York: Oxford University Press, 1973), 73.
34
Robert A. Scalapino, "Ideology and Modernization: The Japanese Case," Ideology and Discontent (New York: The
Free Press, 1964), 97.
35
Ibid., 105.
36
Ibid., 103.
37
Peter L. Berger, The Capitalist Revolution (New York: Basic Books Publishers, 1986), 144.
38
Ibid., 163.
39
Gordon Redding, The Spirit of Chinese Capitalism (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1990), 69.
Chapter II
Survey of Ethiopia’s Survival: Definition and Controversies
The last chapter has unraveled the close link between modernization and the emergence of a
survival ethos among ruling elites of traditional societies in transition. To approach the case of
Ethiopia’s modernization from the same angle of explanation, it is necessary first to make sure that
some groups among Ethiopian ruling elites had shown a propensity that could be defined as a
salvational will. Sure enough, any ruling elite wants to protect the social order that benefits it.
However, the salvational will, as defined in the previous chapter, is less the desire to perpetuate
the status quo than the will to reform because of the belief that only reforms that include the
forsaking of some traditional prerogatives can ensure survival.
Ethiopia and the Concept of Survival
Whatever is said about Ethiopia, one thing is sure: survival best defines it. Admittedly, the country
is one of the oldest in the world, since its history can be traced back to antiquity, specifically to
the ancient Kingdom of Aksum. Also, until the Revolution of 1974, the dynasty called Solomonic
is supposed to have ruled––with some short interruptions––Ethiopia since the Aksumite kingdom.
Christianity, introduced as early as the 4th century AD, still survives in its pristine forms mixed
with some pagan and Judaic elements. In terms of socioeconomic structure, the imposition of tax
rights on a communal system of landholding (the gabar system) has determined, until the
revolution, the class structure of the society for centuries. Moreover, the country has never been
conquered and occupied by foreign invaders, the five years of the Italian occupation being the only
exception. Besides thwarting colonization, no serious social upheaval or revolution has interrupted
its history prior to the revolution of 1974. The overall image is, therefore, one of a protracted
continuity, even though hostile and expanding forces surrounded the country.
Granted that Ethiopia has a remarkable record of survival, the question that relates to
modernization is whether the ruling class or groups within it have been willing to reform to counter
threats. At first look, the answer is no. Seeing the country’s inability to defeat the Italian invasion
in 1936 and the paucity of serious modernizing reforms both before the invasion and after the
recovery of independence in 1941, one can conclude that the survival will of the ruling class did
not go in the direction of serious modernizing reforms. Yet, such a definitive conclusion would be
a bit hasty. Notably, it would overlook the appearance of a movement of intellectuals close to
ruling circles that took Japan’s modernization as a model that Ethiopia should emulate. Moreover,
even if they were not part of an organized group, leaders and highly influential persons have shown
an earnest interest in the modernization of Ethiopia. Emperor Tewodros is among such leaders: his
modernizing ethos can be said to come close to the people who led the modernization of Japan. As
Seven Rubenson puts it:
Tewodros perceived as did none of his predecessors among the mesafint that the political
anarchy, moral laxity, and technological backwardness of his people threatened national
survival. The reforms he announced, the policies he tried to implement, the very single-
mindedness and perseverance with which he tackled the problems, indicate that he aimed
at nothing less than a national revival combined with the transformation of his country into
a modern state.1
Tewodros spoke in terms of restoration of the traditional polity, but such that it would be capable
of countering the colonial threat. In no way was modernization equated with Westernization;
rather, it was a survival option designed to endow the traditional polity with new material means.
His unsuccessful attempts to form a standing army, introduce a separation between church and
state, reduce the landholding of the church, institute Amharic as a national language, build roads
and bridges, and centralize the administration are inseparable from his fanatical attachment to
traditional Ethiopia, to its religious values, nobility, and imperial system. The reforms were
perceived as necessary to salvage what was most precious and essential. In particular, Tewodros’s
determination to steal Western technology, as evinced by his effort to produce firearms in Ethiopia,
the apex of which was the manufacture of his famous cannon, revealed an inspiration that was
quite Japanese.
A similar spirit has animated Emperor Menelik’s approach to modernization. He too
wanted to strengthen the state through some centralizing measures and the construction of roads
and networks of communication. He understood the importance of modern education and opened
to that end the first school where the highest dignitaries were urged to send their sons. He was also
“supremely interested in weapons and generally intrigued with machinery and technology,” with
the view of possessing for “himself and his people the power which resides in the white man’s
knowledge of things.”2 To measure the full importance of these planned changes, one must keep
in mind that they came from a sovereign black leader of an African country, as opposed to being
introduced under the tutelage of colonialism. Moreover, the changes had one purpose: the
restoration of the grandeur of Christian Ethiopia. A nationalist motive and not, as is now the case,
the desire for Westernization, itself understood as the attainment of civilized life, motivated
Menelik’s modernizing attempts. Modernization was thus a nationalist mission, an interpretation
in line with the Japanese inspiration.
As regards the mentioned intellectual movement that proposed Japan as a model for
Ethiopia, this much can be said. Nicknamed “Japanizers,” intellectuals like Guebre Hiwot
Baykedagn, Gebru Desta, Worqeneh Martin, and Heruy Wolde Sellase, to name but the most
important ones, injected into the ongoing discussion on the choices facing Ethiopia the idea of
taking inspiration from Japan. The proposal is in itself quite revealing of the heightened awareness
about the dangers threatening the country. The characterization of these intellectuals as
“Japanizers” has been variously criticized. Thus, Shifferaw Bekele argues that their knowledge
about “Japan's westernization was at best elementary” and their proposals did not go beyond
“superficial changes.”3 Bahru Zewde adds that the proposal to take Japan as a model “remained a
subjective urge unsupported by the objective reality,” given the unbridgeable social and
technological gap between the two countries.4 That Shifferaw speaks of “Japan’s westernization”
already indicates a misconception about the originality of the Japanese path to modernization. As
stated in the last chapter, liberalization in the Western sense was never sought, as shown by the
fact that in Japan “ethics and social philosophy remained thoroughly Confucian and thus feudal.”5
The essential motive of Japan's modernization was the countering of colonial threats, and not the
2 SURVEY OF ETHIOPIA’S SURVIVAL: DEFINITION AND CONTROVERSIES 27
desire to convert to Westernism. Because critics fail to pay enough attention to the sui generis
nature of Japanese modernization, they tend to challenge the application of the concept of
“Japanizer” to Ethiopian intellectuals, arguing either that their proposals significantly fell short of
the model or that they were inadequate to the existing conditions in Ethiopia. In so doing, they
miss the most important issue, which is that many Ethiopian Japanizers did not long for
Westernization, but for a form of modernization fitting Ethiopian realities and values. It is this
indigenization of modernity that precisely enticed them to take Japan as a model.
Ethiopia’s Southern Expansion
Regardless of whether the Japanizers had an adequate understanding of Japanese modernization

or not, regardless of whether the respective conditions of Japan and Ethiopia were comparable or
not, the theme of survival authorizes a fruitful parallel between the two countries. All the more
reason to appeal to the theme is that, for both countries, survival is not a recent commitment, one
that is solely confined to the colonial threat. On the contrary, the commitment has a long history
and constitutes an embedded cultural feature. Because of this shared commitment, just as Japan
wanted to appropriate Western technology to safeguard its independence, values, and social
system, so too have Japanizers and the two mentioned Ethiopian emperors nursed the same goal.
In particular, the goal implied the project of modernizing without social revolution, in the sense
that it should come from above so as to avoid wrecking tradition, its ultimate objective being the
strengthening of the defensive capacities of Ethiopia.
If the two countries shared the same goal, then the question that needs an answer is why
Ethiopia backed down from implementing changes comparable to those of Japan. As Harold
Marcus remarks, though Menelik had heard of Japan and was stimulated by its example, “he
opposed the thoroughgoing economic and social transformation that would be inspired by
industrial revolution.”6 In my view, the most plausible explanation for the softening of the
reformist determination of Ethiopian leaders is the southern conquest. The conquest and inclusion
of vast territories constituting the southern part of today’s Ethiopia gave confidence to the ruling
elite, which confidence was further enhanced by the victory of Adwa over Italian colonial forces.
As a result, there was a false sense of self-sufficiency that ill-prepared the ruling class for the
greater danger of the second Italo-Ethiopian war. To quote Marcus:
The ease with which Menelik had obtained weapons led Ethiopians to conclude that the
nation would always be able to purchase war supplies from eager salesmen. The leadership
did not consider it necessary to build up an arm industry, with all the modernization and
reorganization of society that such an effort would involve, but was content to foster the
development of government and the traditional economy through the introduction of
communications such as the railway, telephone, and telegraph.7
Even if Haile Selassie had other reasons for deferring the appropriate reforms, in the main he
followed the same reasoning.
The explanation that imputes the Ethiopian deferment of far-reaching changes to the
southern expansion does acknowledge the different perceptions prevailing in Japan and Ethiopia.
However, unlike Bahru’s notion of a gap between the two countries, it ascribes the differences to
diverging opportunities. The survival ethos of the Japanese ruling class could rely on no other
option to achieve its goal than to initiate reforms that, however untraditional and inconvenient to
the ruling elite, were necessary to save what could and deserved to be saved. Not so in Ethiopia:
the problem of obtaining more surplus to purchase firearms being solved, beyond hope, by the
immense prospects of the southern expansion, there was no need for deep reforms. Rapid
Ethiopianization and Christianization of the southern populations accompanied by the creation of
a southern elite embedded in the political apparatus were all that was needed to make additional
peoples and resources available to the Ethiopian state and ruling elite.
The key point here is that dissimilar conditions offered Ethiopian leaders different choices.
Naturally, they opted for the easiest choice, the one with the least change and sacrifice. The
condition for survival being the upgrading of military capability, the availability of additional
resources made the hard way of manufacturing modern weapons and introducing the attendant far-
reaching social changes unnecessary. Instead, it made available the much less exacting course of
purchasing weapons. The case of Tewodros gives more strength to this explanation: because he
could see no other way out of the danger than the solution of manufacturing firearms, he was
driven toward the Japanese state of mind. Still alien to the idea of expanding the empire in order
to muster additional peoples and resources, he was, so to speak, cornered within the limits of
traditional Ethiopia from which he could hardly squeeze more surplus to buy weapons. Anyway,
he did not have the necessary time to nurture and launch his modernizing projects. The easy choice
of expansion rather than industrialization in the face of colonial threat has, therefore, put Ethiopia
and Japan on different tracks.
Controversies Surrounding Ethiopian Survival

To give the approach tying the concept of survival to modernization a solid foundation, we need
to investigate further the application of the concept to Ethiopia. The fact that we just said that
Ethiopia’s survival ethos inspired the southern expansion makes the investigation all the more
necessary. To make it clearer, defining survival is not simply to indicate the length of duration of
a given country; it is, above all, to show how inherent forces enabled the country to overcome for
an extended time serious challenges. “Inherent forces” comprise the long-established values,
beliefs, and institutions of the country as well as the resilience of the social system. To bring out
the role of these forces in Ethiopia, it is imperative, first, that we set aside the explanation imputing
its survival to geography.
Many Western scholars have credited Ethiopia’s survival to the isolation and protection
provided by its mountains and the deserts that surround it. According to them, these formidable
natural obstacles have turned the country into a natural fortress, thereby discouraging invaders and
at the same time isolating it. For instance, one author uses such expressions as “mountain fortress,”
“mountain citadels,” “impregnability of the highlands,” “inaccessibility and inhospitable fringes”
to ascribe Ethiopia’s survival to its topography.8 Undoubtedly, such an environment is extremely
unfriendly for invaders. Even if we assume that the invading army finally succeeds in overcoming
the inaccessibility of the mountains, it will soon be faced with insurmountable problems of supply
and regrouping that it would become hopelessly vulnerable to even minor counter-assaults. Should
this army decide to shun the mountains, a better method of penetration would not be available. It
could rely neither on navigable rivers nor on ways of access other than inhospitable deserts. Hence,
the tempting idea that Ethiopia owes its survival to the “virtual impregnability of the highland-
fastness.”9
Surely, it would be wrong to say that the topography did not make any contribution to the
survival. It did, but in combination with other more critical factors. By itself, that is, as an exclusive
explanation, it becomes easily questionable. Indeed, neither the deserts nor the mountains have
discouraged invaders, given that Ethiopia has constantly fought against outside attackers, and even
pushed back some of those who reached its inlands. A case in point is the British invasion of
Ethiopia in 1868: it was successful despite topographical obstacles, precisely because of disunity
caused by frustration against Emperor Tewodros’s rule. Moreover, the numerous borrowings from
outside that typically characterize Ethiopian culture, the most notable being those associated with
the Coptic Church, do not support the idea of Ethiopia’s isolation. The argument of natural
obstacles loses much of its strength when the invaders are modern colonial armies, as was the case
with Italy’s attempts. The need to revise the emphasis on geography becomes inevitable when we
note that many scholars have accused the Ethiopian landscape of having been quite inimical to the
unity of the country. Richard Greenfield remarks that “isolated and mountainous plateau massifs
have proved, to date, almost insurmountable obstacles to the kings who sought to unify their
country.”10 This is so true that kings had to move their capitals from place to place to keep regional
lords in check. No less true was the fact that the mountains offered regions the possibility of
maintaining diverse conditions, including ethnic and linguistic distinctions, thereby putting
additional strain on the unity of the country. That geography was a factor of division hardly backs
the view that Ethiopia owes its survival to the mountains. The right approach is the one that states
that Ethiopia preserved its unity and, hence, its independence, despite the divisive effect of the
topography.
A more interesting perspective would be to associate the geographical features with the
development of Ethiopians’ insular character. The insularity derives from the belief that God has
assigned Ethiopians the mission of protecting Christianity in the wake of the expansion of Islam.
The survival in Ethiopia of a Christian state, even as all previously Christian countries in the
neighborhood and elsewhere fell to Islam, seemed to indicate God’s involvement. As a result, the
mountains were seen as fortresses that God erected to help the guardians of the true faith
accomplish their mission. The churches of Lalibela, monolithic and hewn out of rock, best
symbolize the assignment to serve as a bulwark for a besieged faith. We can also say that the divine
mission that the mountains echo has nurtured a fierce spirit of independence. The feeling of being
entrusted with the protection of the true faith naturally fosters an unwavering commitment to the
task, and this goes a long way in accounting for the survival of Ethiopia. The fact that geography
never isolated Ethiopia, nor thwarted would-be invaders, compels us to investigate in the direction
of other more important factors, since the more ragged the environment is, the stronger must be
the cultural and institutional cements binding together people that geography has otherwise
compartmentalized.
The Colonial Issue
Since geography is obviously not enough to explain the survival of Ethiopia, especially when
modern armies are involved, some scholars have concocted the idea that colonialism has been for
Ethiopia an opportunity rather than a real threat. The thesis has two versions. The one says that
Ethiopians “took an active part of their own in the scramble, competing effectively with the French,
Italians and British along Ethiopia's borders.”11 By conquering and annexing huge territories
inhabited by various populations (such as the Oromo, the Sidama, the Gurage, the Harere),
Emperor Menelik II substantially expanded the size of his empire. The conquest enabled him to
purchase firearms and build a powerful army, both by the size and quality of its weaponry. In other
words, he was able to compete successfully against the European colonial powers thanks to the
colonial subjugation of neighboring African peoples. Be it noted that the thesis assures us that the
term “colonization” is perfectly applicable to Ethiopia, even if it is an African country. Both in
terms of violence and exploitation, Menelik's conquest of the south was no less fierce than its
European counterparts: it was an equally “ferocious process of conquest, annexation, incorporation
and subjugation of peoples and territories.”12
So stated, the thesis of the Ethiopian colonization of the south raises an immediate
objection. According to its generally accepted definition, the concept of colonization presupposes
that the country in question has reached a capitalist stage of development, and Ethiopia was
nowhere near to being a capitalist country. The proponents of the theory counter-argue by pointing
out that both the economic exploitation and cultural oppression of the southern peoples were of a
level comparable to the deeds of colonial powers in other parts of Africa. Economically, the system
established in the south led to land expropriation, heavy taxation, and land grants to warlords and
soldiers as rewards for their service, all at the expense of the indigenous populations who, on top
of losing their traditional right to land, had to work for their new lords. Culturally, the imposition
of Christianity as well as of Amhara culture and language, through which a mitigated form of
assimilation was attempted, entailed the suppression of local cultures, a deed justified by the
perception of these cultures as inferior. Let it be added that comparable needs prompted the
colonial expansions in Ethiopia and European countries: just as increasing needs for new markets,
raw materials, and new lands for settlement explain European colonialism, so too land
impoverishment, deforestation, and high population density in the north “propelled the Abyssinian
expansion southwards a century ago.”13
The thesis does not exactly go to the extent of elevating Ethiopia to a degree matching the
power of European countries. Rather, it says that the participation of Ethiopia in the scramble must
be placed in the context of the rivalry between Great Britain, France, and Italy. Because of this
rivalry, any advance by one of the powers was interpreted as an undue advantage over the others.
Apart from enabling Menelik to play one power off against the other, the rivalry had effectively
created a stalemate. Hence the Tripartite Agreement of 1906: it explicitly admitted the stalemate
by acknowledging the maintenance of “the integrity of Ethiopia” as “the common interest of
France, Great Britain, and Italy.”14
The second version of the colonial thesis continues to speak of colonialism, but adds the
qualification “dependent.”15 This version does not agree with the presentation of Ethiopia as an
African country that competed against European powers in the scramble for Africa. Far from it: in
reality, says the thesis, colonialism spared Ethiopia for the simple reason that it promoted it as a
junior partner of European colonization of Africa. The need for this changed interpretation arose
because of the mentioned major theoretical objection, which is that a backward country like
Ethiopia cannot be placed at the level of a colonial power, let alone become a contender to
European colonial powers. Contrary to the European colonial objectives, the Ethiopian expansion
had neither the purpose of extracting raw materials, nor the want of new markets, far less the need
to export capital. However, what a precapitalist country like Ethiopia cannot do becomes
achievable if European colonial forces work in partnership with the said country and provide the
necessary assistance. European assistance made up, so to speak, for the precapitalist inadequacies;
it provided the “guns and skills” that broke down the resistance of the southern peoples.16
A question comes to mind: Why was Ethiopia chosen to become an agent of colonial
powers and not the Oromo or the Sidama? The usual answer alludes to cultural affinity, that is, to
Christianity: obviously “a religion common to the Ethiopian and European ruling classes”
promised a better partnership.17 All in all, the method of dependent colonialism was “cheaper and
easier than direct colonization.”18 Not only was the task of conquering and pacifying the southern
populations left to the Ethiopians, but also European imperialist powers had at one stroke both
avoided war among themselves and saved themselves the trouble of conquering Ethiopia.
Assessing critically the colonial interpretation of the southern expansion is simply
elucidating the malaise that exposure to both versions inevitably causes. The malaise springs first
from the feeling of being the target of a deliberate attempt at confusion, for, just as the anatomy of
an ape, although otherwise differing little from that of human beings, is yet marked by an
unbridgeable gap, so is an irreducible disparity clearly demarcating the southern expansion of
Ethiopia, despite some similarities, from Western colonialism. The underlying assumption of the
theory, that is, the depiction of the southern expansion as a racist undertaking, is obviously the
disparity that agrees the least with the Ethiopian case. Whether Ethiopia is presented as an
independent player or an agent, the factor necessary to paint the march as a colonial mission is that
the people who initiated it are racially and culturally different from the southern peoples. That is
why the advocates of dependent colonialism speak of the opposition between “the Semitic-
speaking highland kingdom of Abyssinia” and the south, “a different ecological zone” inhabited
by “the Cushitic nations of the region.”19 The fact that the northern peoples are Semitic and
Christian explains, according to the theory, the choice of Ethiopia as a junior partner. The same
reason indicates why some scholars thought that it was appropriate to characterize Ethiopia as a
competing colonial power. Yet, the bare truth is quite different: however harsh and oppressive the
southern conquest may have been—if we are to believe some of the accounts emanating from
proponents of the colonial interpretation—it “did not legalize racism and segregation and attendant
inequalities, typically associated with Western colonialism.”20 Rather, so open was the system that
a great number of individuals from the conquered populations rose quickly to positions of power,
some reaching the peak. To be sure, the northerners pandered to a feeling of superiority, but it was
more cultural than racial. Precisely, because it was only cultural, it remained alien to the idea of
erecting a racial barrier, in the fashion of European colonization.
There is more: both versions miss the indigenous nature of the expansion. Historians
readily admit that the Oromo and the northerners were the main contenders in the Horn of Africa
prior to the scramble. The contention was such that the Oromo penetrated far into Gojjam,
Begemder, and even Tigre. In particular, the Yejju dynasty, an Oromo family, ruled during the
“Era of the Princes” a great part of what was then Ethiopia. In light of the long history of
competition between the two peoples, it is indefensible that the two versions misread an indigenous
historical trend toward integration as an overseas conquest akin to a colonial operation. The right
reading would acknowledge that expansion was inevitable in that one had to conquer the other.
The question is not whether the conquest could have been avoided, but rather who would be the
conqueror. Firearms changed the balance in favor of the northerners, which firearms were
purchased to respond to a need emanating from the imperial ideology. The imperial need, in turn,
came, as we saw, from the choice of expansion as the means to counter the threat of colonial forces.
According to the first version of the colonial thesis, the competitive stalemate between the
three colonial powers hampered their project of conquering Ethiopia. The explanation does not
answer the question of why the colonial powers, which so far had agreed to divide amicably
between themselves all the lands stretching along the Red Sea, as they did with the Somali people,
would fail to strike a bargain concerning Ethiopia. The only plausible answer is that the
intervention of a local rival, powerful enough to strip colonial expeditions of their character of
being nothing more than minor excursions, caused the stalemate. In other words, the intrusion of
an indigenous African player became a complicating factor in the rivalries between the three
colonial powers. Italy refused to abide by the agreement; it was called to order by its defeat at
Adwa. The theory of dependent colonialism, too, refuses to admit that the intervention of an
African player changed the situation. Worse yet, it rejects the existence of a fourth player, as
though the Italian defeat of Adwa never happened and that the French or the English never
contemplated the project of colonizing Ethiopia. Yet, the fact that they needed an agreement shows
that the French and the British (the exception being Italy) had to give up their project of colonizing
Ethiopia. What could be the reason for the agreement if not that they were not ready to bear the
costs of an expensive conquest, not to mention the need to prevent rival colonial powers from
scoring an advantage in case of a successful conquest?
Now that we have defined what is meant by the survival of Ethiopia and pushed back the
controversies that the notion raises, we can move forward to examine the survival forces intrinsic
to Ethiopia’s sociocultural makeup. Instead of attributing the survival to external factors or
opportune circumstances, the examination will show that it is an outcome of the functioning of
inner features.
1
Seven Rubenson, The Survival of Ethiopian Independence (London: Heinemann, 1976), 269.
2
Harold Marcus, The Life and Times of Menilik II: Ethiopia 1844-1913 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975), 198-99.
3
Shifferaw Bekele, “Gäbrä-Heywät Baykädañ and the Emergence of a Modern Intellectual Discourse,” Sociology
Ethnology Bulletin 1 (1994): 112-13.
4
See Bahru Zewde, "The Concept of Japanization in the Intellectual History of Modern Ethiopia." Proceedings of the
Fifth Seminar of the Department of History (Addis Ababa: Addis Ababa University Press, 1990), 11.
5
Robert A. Scalapino, “Ideology and Modernization: The Japanese Case,” in Ideology and Discontent (New York:
The Free Press, 1964), 9.
6
Marcus, The Life and Times of Menilik II, 199.
7
Ibid., 5.
8
C. F. Rey, The Real Abyssinia (London: Seeley Service & Co. Limited, 1935), 18.
9
Arnold J. Toynbee, A Study of History (New York: Dell Publishing Co., Inc., 1974), 194.
10
Richard Greenfield, Ethiopia (New York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1968), 117.
11
L. H. Gann and Peter Duignan, “Introduction,” in Colonialism in Africa 1870-1960 (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1969), 15-16.
12
Addis Hiwet, Ethiopia: From Autocracy to Revolution (London: Review of African Political Economy, 1975), 35.
13
John Markakis, National and Class Conflict in the Horn of Africa (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990),
8.
14
Bonnie K Holcomb and Sisai Ibssa, The Invention of Ethiopia (New Jersey: The Red Sea Press, 1990), 7.
15
Ibid., p. 2.
16
Asafa Jalata, Oromia & Ethiopia (Boulder: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 1993),52.
17
Ibid., 7-8.
18
Ibid.
19
Holcomb and Sisai, The Invention of Ethiopia, 15.
20
Daniel Teferra, Social History and Theoretical Analyses of the Economy of Ethiopia (Lewiston: The Edwin Mellen
Press, 1990), iii.
Chapter III
The Ethiopian Forces of Survival
To account for the protracted endurance of Ethiopia, the last chapter hinted at two requisites,
namely, a system of power suited for defense and the sense of shouldering a mandate. Such a
successful record, in addition to presupposing a robust and effective ability for self-defense,
necessitates a leadership that feels entrusted with a mission. From a cursory examination of
Ethiopian history, one can confidently surmise that, at least until the overthrow of the last emperor,
Ethiopia survived for so long thanks to a system of power that was protective of survival and bearer
of a mission. The system rested on three interacting pillars: the imperial throne, the church, and
the nobility. Let us review their inner workings and interconnections.
State and Church

More often than not, scholars have passed contradictory judgments on the connection of the
Ethiopian Church with the state and on its aptness in performing its duties. Concerning the issue
of aptness, a too common accusation against the Ethiopian Church denounces its lack of
missionary zeal, the ignorance of its priesthood, its deficiency in asceticism, and its extreme
conservatism. According to some views, one explanation for these shortcomings is the close tie
between the church and the state. The proof for this tie is the deep-seated interest of the church in
the traditional landholding system, of which it was a great beneficiary, but at the expense of its
autonomy vis-à-vis the state. Blaming the neglect of its religious duties on its complete dependence
on the state, John Markakis goes to the extent of characterizing the church as an “appendage of the
throne.”1 Another illustration of dependency was the foreign origin of the head of the Ethiopian
Church, the Abuna. Appointed by Alexandria—until the practice was abolished in 1948—the
Abuna was an Egyptian and, as such, so alien to the local languages and customs of the Ethiopian
Church that he could be no more than “the tool of the reigning king.”2
On the other hand, some scholars maintain that the state was dependent on the church rather
than the other way round. Patrick Gilkes, for instance, states that “theocracy is perhaps the best
word to use in describing the imperial system. Religion was a major pre-occupation of the
emperors and a main function for the throne was the support for the Church.”3 In effect, no
emperor, however powerful, has succeeded in keeping his throne while being in conflict with the
Ethiopian Church. Recall the abdication of Emperor Susenyos following his conversion to
Catholicism and the isolation of Emperor Tewodros subsequent to his quarrels with the church.
According to many scholars, the loss of the church’s support was an important reason for
Tewodros’s defeat at the hands of the British. The custom of inalienable imperial land grants to
the church further substantiates the view making the Ethiopian state into an instrument of the
church.
These antithetical views on the Ethiopian Church call for a more balanced approach.
Donald Levine provides such an approach when he defends the “reality of functional specialization
in Christian Ethiopia” between the secular and the religious.4 Levine begins by debunking the
charge of incompetence against the Ethiopian Church. For him, nothing disproves better the charge
than the resilience of the church against the continuous threat coming from formidable adversaries
like Islam, Catholicism, and Protestantism. As to the functional differentiation, the organizational
principle of the church was less centralized and authority more localized than those of the state.
These “distinct bases of power and influence,” to the extent that they lessen hierarchical relations,
were not conducive to political control.5 This decentralized organization gave the church autonomy
while not excluding close interactions with the state. The point is that these relations, however
close and varied, could not be couched in terms of the one being the instrument of the other.
What is one to conclude from this debate? Compared to the two extreme positions, Levine’s
approach seems to be a more reasonable one. However, too much emphasis on autonomy loses
sight of the imperative of unity between state and church, which is a requirement inscribed in the
tewahdo doctrine of the Ethiopian Church. Tewahdo means united as one, and so posits that both,
the religious and the political, emanate from God. This oneness in God commands the achievement
of unity in harmony. In other words, both the political and the religious come from and lead to
God, not so much as the one serving the other, but as different and complementary functions. The
harmony in unity being essential, none was supposed to absorb or supplant the other. The common
divine origin ties the church to the state and summons the state to rule according to Christian
principles, the most important one being the state’s cardinal responsibility to protect and strengthen
the church. Neither the state could have secular goals of its own, nor the church purely spiritual
objectives that would be indifferent to secular matters. It is this unity in harmony that made up the
substance of the traditional Ethiopian nationalism.
The Kibre Negest

The injunction of harmonious unity was backed by a myth enshrined in the Kibre Negest (The
Glory of Kings), a literary document essential to understand how power in Ethiopia leaned on a
myth specifically contrived to merge the political and the religious. To quote Edward Ullendorff:
“The Kibre Negest is not merely a literary work, but—as the Old Testament to the Hebrews or the
Koran to the Arabs—it is the repository of Ethiopian national and religious feelings, perhaps the
truest and most genuine expression of Abyssinian Christianity.”6 The myth establishes the
legitimacy of what is known as the Solomonic dynasty, which dynasty begins with Menelik I, who
was the son of an encounter of an Ethiopian queen, Sheba or Makeda, with King Solomon of Israel.
Menelik I became king and all subsequent Ethiopian emperors, with the exception of the Zagwe
kings, are believed to descend from him and thus from King Solomon. The most important part of
the myth announces God’s intention to shift His favoritism from Israel to Ethiopia. The intention
was revealed to King Solomon himself in a dream in which he saw the sun that illuminated Israel
“flew away to the country of Ethiopia, and it shone there with exceedingly great brightness forever,
for it willed to dwell there.”7 The sun that withdrew from Israel in order to shine forever over
Ethiopia symbolizes Israel's disfavor and Ethiopia's promotion to the rank of the new elect of God.
Of course, conversion to Christianity explains the announcement of the transfer of divine
favoritism from “the sinful Israelites” to Ethiopians.8
The Kibre Negest fastened a religious belief to a secular component: it linked Christianity
with a given territory, people, and emperorship. It is therefore a “national epic” in that “it defines
the secular and religious foundation of Ethiopian nationhood.”9 In depicting the traditional
3 THE ETHIOPIAN FORCES OF SURVIVAL 35
Ethiopian nationhood in terms of the oneness and common destiny of the church and the state, the
state acting as the guardian of the faith and the church consecrating the divine election of the
people and its emperor, the Kibre Negest turned Orthodox Christianity into the raison d'être of a
people and of its social and political system. Orthodox Christianity was everything, at once
religion, culture, way of life, and polity. Though the Ethiopian authorship of the Kibre Negest has
been contested in some circles and the Ethiopians themselves cannot support their claim of
authorship with satisfactory evidence, the compelling fact is that they have lived the epic with their
besieged Christianity. Their periodically self-imposed isolations, their resistance to Islam and other
formidable beliefs, and the preservation of their faith in its pristine forms attest that the Kibre
Negest was for Ethiopians a genuine experience and the canon through which they have construed
their history, social organization, and national destiny.
It is important to note that, in making the election of the emperor a divine concern and
responsibility, the Kibre Negest abstained from attaching the throne to a specific family lineage.
The fact that the Ethiopian queen and King Solomon were not tied by a marriage bond, what else
could it entail but the reluctance to institute the norm of hereditary succession to the throne? At
first look, the notion of a Solomonic dynasty seems to establish rather than undermine the
hereditary principle. In reality, the foreign Judaic element removes hereditary restrictions and
institutes an open system allowing the entire Ethiopian elite to claim a Solomonic affiliation. So
wide and inclusive a notion excludes practically no one. Emperor Tewodros was from Gondar,
Yohannes from Tigray region, Menelik from Shoa, yet all claimed to belong to the Solomonic line.
In referring the dynasty to a remote origin that excluded no one, the notion conveys, more than
anything, an ideological commitment to Ethiopian unity, that is, to the harmonious union between
the political and the religious. In thus promoting more of a nationalistic notion than a hereditary
or an exclusive royal bloodline, it instituted a competitive system that is open to all. The openness,
in turn, squared with the logical requirement of the idea of divine election. Indeed, the invalidation
of hereditary and other forms of established succession simply acknowledged two interrelated
implications: (1) God's choice, being mysterious, could fall on anybody; (2) it would not be an
election if it excluded other potential candidates. Exclusion on grounds of ethnic and family
differences were thus set aside, and this could not but stimulate individual ambitions.
This is not to say that sons of kings did not become kings, but rather that their entitlement
must agree with God’s choice, the two manifestations of which are distinction in martial
leadership, necessary to protect Ethiopia, and the authentication of the church. The latter could
play the role of authenticator only if it remained a national institution that transcended localism
and ethnic references. Thanks to its national character, the church’s certification of a given emperor
“provided the unifying elements which continually countered the centrifugal forces of geography,
tribalism and aristocracy.”10 The national acceptance of the church thus endowed the throne with
an aura of transcendence. Reflecting on this marriage of open competition with transcendence,
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.11
Interestingly, Haile Selassie's Constitution of 1931 was the first attempt to establish a hereditary
monarchy in Ethiopia. In the name of modernization and for the purpose of peaceful succession,
the constitution 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.”12
Unsurprisingly, the clause aroused vigorous protests from members of the nobility on the ground
that it constituted a dangerous deviation from the Solomonic tradition.
Imperial Power and Regionalism
The examination of the relationship between the monarchy and regionalism further clarifies the
founding role of the Kibre Negest. The usual tendency is to conceptualize them as opposing forces,
less so as composing by their very opposition a structure, a gravitational force holding the country
together. Regionalism is accused of having retarded, or else obstructed, the full realization of
political unity and national consciousness. In point of fact, the title of Ethiopian emperors as “king
of kings” seems to confirm the impression that emperors ruled over “an agglomeration of petty
kingdoms.”13 Regionalism is also blamed for having fostered “parochial sentiments and narrow
identities” based on tribal and linguistic demarcations that are constantly at odds with national
unity.14 Because emperors had to impose their authority by force, the outcome was constant wars
and devastations, which, in addition to hindering the development of the country, repeatedly
exposed it to external invasions.
Despite a semblance of truth, this understanding of regionalism fails to answer the
fundamental question about Ethiopia. If regionalism had really such disastrous consequences, if it
were so opposed to national life and political stability, how comes it, then, that the centripetal
forces were strong enough to keep the country together for so long? If so deeply-rooted a tendency
toward political fragmentation existed, the long survival of Ethiopia becomes nothing short of a
miracle. The objection does not imply that the description of Ethiopian history as the perpetual
struggle between centripetal and centrifugal forces is flatly wrong. Instead, it points out the need
for an approach that shows how the struggle brought off the preservation of unity.
To understand the relationships between the center and the regions, we have first to define
the functions of the regional nobility within the imperial system. According to Tadesse Tamrat,
emperors expected two main services from the regional nobility:
the collection and submission of the king's tributes accruing from the region, and the
readiness to contribute an adequate fighting force to the king's army during a national crisis
or to send contingents against local rebellions in the name of the king when called upon to
do so.15
In return for their services, emperors guaranteed local leaders the “full possession of their
traditional right of leadership.”16 Granted the right to leadership in exchange for rendered services,
Tadesse’s explanation still overlooks that the right to collect tributes presupposes the enforcement
of the imperial system. In other words, regional leaders derived the right to collect tributes and
eventually to retain their own share from the prior incorporation of regions into the imperial power
system. The traditional right to leadership looked very much like a right granted by the imperial
rule.
We thus arrive at a crucial point: far from preceding and challenging imperial power, the
nobility was itself a product of the imperial system. Neither its economic interest nor its social
status had any foundation outside the imperial order. In short, nobility is not so much an inborn
right embedded in the regional community as an imperial nomination, in the same way as
emperorship is a divine nomination. An overview of the traditional pattern of landholding in
Ethiopia confirms the standing of the nobility. The communal type of land ownership inherent in
the rist system (see next paragraph for further explanation) posits the right of the nobility as a
supervenient or superstructural due. The tribute right supporting the nobility was superimposed on
a communal order rather than emanating from it, as shown with more details in the next paragraph.
This fact, in turn, explains why in traditional Ethiopia the title of nobility did not evolve into a
hereditary rank. Without denying the incessant effort of the nobility to change its status into an
inherited one and the effective existence of entrenched noble families, the bare truth is that a
hereditary status was more of a claim, an aspiration than a settled reality. The counterforces
preventing the evolution into a hereditary nobility were the peasant community and the monarchy.
Both have never allowed the development of private ownership of land, which is necessary to
change the nobility into a hereditary class. Except for its right to rist land as a member of the
community, the nobility had only the tribute right granted by emperors. As Robert Hess rightly
states, in Ethiopia “military rank and noble privilege were identical, and both came from the
emperor.”17
This dependence on emperors meant that regional nobles had trouble asserting their
authority if the monarch was a weak one. Troubles at the imperial level naturally entailed the rise
of contenders within the establishment of regional power, and this announced a period of anarchy.
A good illustration of regional anarchy is the Era of the Princes. For most scholars, the extreme
weakness of the emperors of Gondar caused the instability and clashing rivalries of the Era of the
Princes. All this attests to the fact that, in traditional Ethiopia, no person other than the emperor
had direct power over another person. Any authority held by a person was a derivation of the
imperial power, which in turn emanated from God. Outside this devolution, there was no legal
power.
Does this mean that Ethiopian emperors had absolute power? The answer is no: in addition
to the church’s prerogatives, the nobility acquired some propensity to limit the authority of the
monarch. It did so by cultivating regionalism: unable to change its status into a hereditary one, the
nobility stirred and fortified regional and ethnic loyalties wedding it to the community, as part of
its endeavor to become a force to be reckoned with. Leaning on the peasantry with whom it
maintained close kinship ties through descent group affiliation and the traditional system of
landholding, it developed, alongside the national consciousness, narrow identities, battening on
tribal, religious, linguistic particularities. To quote Gebru Tareke:
The physical remoteness of the monarch, combined with the nobility's embeddedness in
the local economy and its strong cultural ties to the peasantry, allowed local barons to exert
greater and direct influence on the latter and to limit the throne's authority and its intrusive
tendencies18
This embeddedness had, however, another side: it was in the best interest of monarchs that local
leaders strengthen their control over the peasantry. Only thus could the nobility properly assume
the tasks of collecting taxes on a regular basis and mobilizing an adequate military force when
called upon to do so. Clearly, the opposition between regions and the center needs a nuanced
approach. In the context of traditional Ethiopia, regionalism was a force of stability and strength
as long as monarchs remained strong. In other words, the weaker the imperial power, the greater
was the nobility’s autonomy and, with it, the likelihood of regional anarchy.
Fluctuating Hierarchy
It goes without saying that a thorough investigation into the reasons for the survival of Ethiopia
cannot be conducted unless it closely probes into the manner the communal basis articulates with
the imperial order. Without entering into the controversy of the applicability of the notion of
feudalism or tributary system to traditional Ethiopia, it is safe to say that so lasting an endurance
is hardly imaginable without the contribution of the traditional landholding system. When scholars
study the traditional system of land tenure, they come up with two key words: rist and gult.
According to John M. Cohen and Dov Weintraub,
Rist is the right to claim a share of land based on kinship to a historical ancestor held in
common with other rist holders. . . . Those who can establish kinship through either parent
may enter a claim to a share of the land in a unit from elders controlling the allocation of
land.19
Based on descent rights, land under rist cannot be sold or exchanged, any more than it can be
evoked to exclude claimants so long as a kinship tie is established. This does not mean that a
person actually holds all the land claimed under rist. The size of actual holdings depends on the
political means that claimants have at their disposal. Whatever the size, all rist lands are taxable.
This turns the rist holder into a gebar, that is, into a payer of tribute. The tribute, be it noted, was
“based upon land, not the person” so that the gebar was neither a serf nor a tenant: he worked for
himself and his family.20 It is the attachment of peasants to rist that deterred the aristocracy from
achieving a hereditary status through the private ownership of land. However, this same attachment
to the rist system infused Ethiopian politics with a strong ethnic coloration if for no other reason
than because the reliance of land tenure on descent rights nourished provincialism. Kinship
solidarity and parochialism were cultivated to protect rist rights.
As to the notion of gult, it was not a holding as such; it was the right to collect tributes.
Gult “entitled its holder to receive from the rist-holding peasant the tribute assessed on the land,
as well as labour service and various other perquisites.”21 The holding itself is the rist on which a
tax due is grafted. As alluded earlier, tribute being an exclusive imperial prerogative, gult rights
are rights that emperors bestow on persons and institutions to collect taxes and retain all or part of
them for their own use. The grant of gult right was conditional on services rendered to the throne.
Administrative, juridical, and most of all military services entitled persons and institutions to
tribute right. Gult right thus created what could be called a distinct privileged class, but a class that
remained dependent on political functions, and hence on imperial appointments. Slightly different
was rist-gult: it was “an inheritable overright to tribute,” granted to members of the royal family,
high nobility, and the church.22 Still, rist-gult was revocable in case of high treason and
misconduct. Moreover, rist-gult would remain in the family on condition that a member of the
family renews the record of distinguished services to the throne.
Assessing the contribution of the landholding system to survival is to show that the
nationalist ideology would not have preserved its strength had it not been underpinned by the
socio-economic basis. One thing is immediately clear: the gult system explains a salient aspect of
Ethiopian defense power, namely, the ability to raise and mobilize a huge army, which is in line
with Ethiopia’s preferred method of encirclement of the enemy. The gult system––that is, the
surrender of parts of the state tax to regional leaders and through them to their local followers––
established a sprawling system of recruitment and mobilization. The grant of gult had an outright
military objective: it rewarded military contributions and instituted a form of continuous military
service. As we said, failing to provide military service entailed the automatic removal of grants.
Unsurprisingly, as a reward for military service, the gult system was bound to attract many
ambitious and war-driven people, and this greatly increased the fighting ability of the combatants.
Another important consequence of the gebar system is the continuous expansion and
consolidation of the empire. Grants of tax right paved the way for the integration of new conquered
peoples into the empire, as opposed to the method of frequent raids into neighboring territories in
search of booty (slaves, cattle, objects of prestige, etc.). The Ethiopian system was thus fraught
with the need to expand: more gult rights entailed new conquests to integrate new peoples into the
empire, since tributes emanated not from raids but from the administration of people. A major
consequence follows: the system rid the ruling class of the need to look for surplus in trade,
especially in long-distance trade. Already precarious by its very nature, long-distance trade became
impractical for Ethiopia owing to its isolation following the expansion of Islam. The fact that the
main source of surplus supporting the elite was not trade, but the tribute-ridden peasant production,
meant the emergence of an elite class embedded in the system and eager to defend it. As the
example of neighboring countries shows, had the Ethiopian elite relied on trade activities, conquest
and conversion to Islam would have been inevitable.
Another outcome of the surrender of parts of the state tax to regional leaders and their local
followers was that it connected individuals through a system of vertical authority, through what
Levine calls “hierarchical individualism.”23 The combination of hierarchy and individualism
signifies that the domination-subordination relation takes the form of an association for mutual
interests. Instead of polarizing the interests of the superior and the subordinate, the partnership
makes them mutually dependent. Both intend to use their hierarchical connections to further their
benefits. Since the reciprocal promotion of self-interest binds the superior and the subordinate, the
relations are best understood in terms of patron-client or master-follower relationship than in terms
of distinct classes with opposite interests. In particular, when the peasant is ready to offer military
service to the lord, he can expect a great deal, including promotion to a political position, which is
the path to increased economic returns. In short, the need to muster fighting forces has woven the
entire system with networks of shared dependency.
All this testifies to the contribution of the fighting spirit of Ethiopians to the survival of
Ethiopia. There is a general consensus on this point: the warlike values and spirit of Ethiopians are
widely recognized and admired. Yet, little is the attempt to understand the source of this fighting
spirit. What else could this source be but the vertical authority connecting leaders and followers?
The tighter the bond, the higher is the combative mood, since their mutual interests depend on their
ability to perform. Leaders’ performance in combat determines the power of their authority, and
this influences the willingness to follow leaders. War is therefore the test measuring the bond
between leaders and followers. In other words, the fighting spirit was born of a social system that
squarely associated position and material interests with warlike successes. In making warlike
values the royal road to social mobility, the society secured a leadership hardened to war while
also igniting the ambition of the most able individuals. This “tough-man system,” to use Perham
expression, rested on the consensus that neither birth, nor servility, but military valor determined
the social position of a person.24 This is so true that, as stated earlier, military ranks converged
with social positions in traditional Ethiopia.
Taken all together, the above features reveal the centrality of social mobility in the
traditional system. A basic argument against the description of the traditional system as a feudal
system is the absence, consequent to the inability of the nobility to grow into a hereditary class, of
rigid class distinctions. As a matter of fact, the life of the nobility was precarious because it had to
defend constantly its position. The social basis was so mobile that “the attributes of rank,
privileges, honors, and duties were in constant flux,” thereby always prone to recast the destiny of
individuals in all classes.25 Because wars and warlike values decided the rise and fall of individuals
and families, they were the indispensable avenue to social mobility. Examples abound of people
of humble origin who rose to high positions of power, even to the highest, on account of military
prowess. Thus, Tewodros and Yohannes, both fierce fighters, became emperors, even though they
had no traceable link to the so-called Solomonic lineage. We can also cite the case of Ras Alula,
Dejazmatch Balcha Abanefso, Fitewrari Habte Giorgis, Ras Gobena, and many more, all great
warriors, who reached high positions of power without having any noble origins.
This open opportunity for social mobility had a direct bearing on the survival of Ethiopia.
In his attempt to deal with the question of how Ethiopia did “manage to survive to modern times,
when other local civilizations crumbled in the face of European imperialism,” Haggai Erlich
discloses the central role of social mobility: “Ethiopia's strength and survival,” he says “stem from
its unique internal sociopolitical flexibility, rather than from the attributes and behavior of
foreigners.”26 For him, by allowing a constant and intense power game, the flexibility of the
sociopolitical order prevented revolutions, downgraded the politicization of ethnicity in favor of
national unity, and provided able leadership. Indeed, both in promoting power struggle and
avoiding the institutionalization of rigid stratifications, the system secured the consensus of all the
actors, of those who aspired to power and those who had power. This consensus within the elite
class as well as among aspiring individuals made the recourse to the overthrow of the class
structure through political revolution unnecessary. Likewise, rather than politicizing their ethnic
identities, ambitious individuals were spurred on by the prospect of participating in the power
game and winning their due places. As to leadership quality, what better defense force could
Ethiopia hope to have than the leadership of people tested in real combat?
Hunters of Idil
We have so far unraveled the politico-religious and socio-economic components that contributed
to the survival of traditional Ethiopia. We have yet to indicate the spirit, the aspiration that dwells
in and animates the components. The Ethiopians often designate this inner pulse by the word idil.
English words such as chance, opportunity, fortune, fate, and destiny can translate it, though none
of them exhausts its Ethiopian meaning. The source of the belief intertwines with the Ethiopian
conception of God and the created world. In particular, idil is the cement that binds together the
characteristics of social and individual lives. It corroborates the derivation of power from divine
choice and sets the sociopolitical field as the stage of power game and the attendant social mobility.
For Ethiopians, there is a fundamental duality in the nature of God. Undoubtedly,
“everything that happens reflects His active will,” but this will is not transparent, so that
“Abyssinians view God above all as mystery.”27 No direct, transparent correspondence exists
between His will and the products of His will in the visible world. Because visible things hide or
mask God’s will, a special knowledge is required to decipher the truth by going beyond the
apparent. It is in the nature of things that phenomena in the visible world cannot express the
transcendent and boundless divine power without gravely distorting it. As a result of the immense
disparity between the created world and God, the language of God is not outwardly intelligible.
Moreover, the tendency to appear independent and self-sufficient corrupts the visible world. This
pretension to self-sufficiency instils deception and arrogance into the thinking and belief of human
beings, and this further leads into the path of error and ignorance. The complete dependence on
God and His mysteriousness turn every acquired thing into a mere gift, but even more so into a
fleeting possession. Levine notes that the Amhara invoke idil “to account for the ups and downs
of their lives,” that is, “to signify the working of God's will insofar as it affects human purposes.”28
Indeed, everything is reversible and nothing is definitively acquired. To think otherwise is to be
the victim of appearances and to forget who the master of all things is. All existing things,
including living beings and persons, are not ends in and for themselves; they are by and for God.
To know this is wisdom, which precisely avoids the sins of ignorance and arrogance.
This complete dependence of all things on God, whose will and methods remain
mysterious, translates into a characteristic anxiety in each Ethiopian. The anxiety has to do with
the question of knowing the fate allotted to each individual. Ethiopians call this concern idil, whose
defining feature is that it is not so much an answer as a question, a quest, owing to the mysterious
nature of God’s will. As an interrogation, it is the opposite of fatalism and resignation. It often
unleashes the ambition that W. C. Plowden detected when he said: “Each [Ethiopian] man
considers himself as born to great destinies, and the smallest spark sets fire to his ambition.”29 We
find here the secret of the reluctance to turn power into a hereditary right. Since power, at whatever
level, is conceived as a divine gift stemming from an act of favoritism that always keeps its secret,
it cannot be considered as a right inscribed in the blood, as a hereditary entitlement. Consequently,
no belief better illustrates the thesis hailing social mobility as the central aspiration of Ethiopians
than this notion of idil. For only through an open mobility could the society be responsive to the
inner anxiety provoked by the uncertainty of fate. Posit a culture for which the destiny and place
of individuals are anything but certain or fixed in advance, and the stage for power competition
resulting in the renewal of elites is subsequently set. Likewise, the understanding that what God
gives God can take away aligns with the competition. Emperor Tewodros knew this more than
anybody else, since he is reported to have said: “I well know that God will raise whom He will
and will cast down whom He will.”30 This understanding also pervades the relationship between
superiors and subordinates. Plowden notes:
If, on the morrow, by some freak of fortune not unfrequent, they should reverse positions
. . . there is scarcely one of those who stand humbly to serve to-day, that would not to-
morrow grace the seat of honour and issue his commands as well as his nobly-born master,
who in his turn would find no awkwardness in handing the mead-horn or saddling the horse
of his quondam domestic.31
Nothing expresses better the absolute dependence of things on God and the recurring
opening of opportunity or idil than Ethiopia’s traditional understanding of time. For Ethiopians,
time is not a continuous, cumulative process, augmenting by itself, acquiring consistency, and
going somewhere, to some future, by some inner dynamism. Instead, time is the happening of
reversals, of ups and downs in a cyclical fashion. It makes and unmakes the world without leading
it to some progress or some planned goal. As such, its sole purpose is to manifest the power of
God, and it does so by substituting recast for progressive movement. The recurrent cycle and the
ups and downs keep reality in existence, but in such a way that they always manifest the power of
God's will. Being the power of birth and dissolution as well as of reversals of fortune, time is God’s
exclusive weapon. Here are some representative thoughts, taken from Kebede Mikael’s poem titled
“Everything Is Déjà vu,” on the recasting and cyclical nature of time:
There is nothing new beneath the sun

The naïve person is constantly fooled
Is there anything that stays the same?
While that which you have put your trust in crumbles
The unplanned is found happening
The weak becomes strong while the powerful is humiliated
............................
When the rich becomes poor, the poor becomes wealthy
When one thing becomes murky, another clears up
The one who was sleepy wakes up
The warm becomes colder
The small is big, the big small
The bad is good, the good bad
It appears like a dream and passes like a shadow
The nature of this world is unpredictable
In the past, in the future, and today in this world
There’s nothing new; everything is cyclical.32
It is no surprise, then, that traditional Ethiopians had little appetite for social utopia. For a culture
that “attributes social position to one's capacity as well as to God or fate (idil)” and believes that
these “last two forces [are] fused into one,” as Markakis notes, the idea of perfecting the social
system from below and through an autonomous initiative could only generate disorder and chaos
by questioning the wisdom of God's allotments.33
To sum up, the backing of the social structure by the belief in the notion of idil, what else
could it yield but a stronger survival will? The Ethiopians find in the social organization the proof
of their inner and deep longing, the reflection of their greatest attachment. The social organization
mirroring the belief and the belief the social organization, there occurs a mutual reinforcement.
The equation of the defense of the social organization with the defense of faith and vice versa
could only nurture an unwavering and fanatical attachment to the system. Notably, war was bound
to become the royal road to upward mobility in a society open to power competition. It was the
opportunity par excellence, the primary target of idil. Consequently, war became a motivation,
even a vocation, a fact that Tadesse alluded to when, describing the relation of Ethiopians to war
deeds, he spoke of “professional soldiers of fortune who had joined the court in search of wealth
and adventure.”34
1
John Markakis, Ethiopia: Anatomy of a Traditional Polity (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1974), 36.
2
Frederick J. Simoons, Northwest Ethiopia (Madison: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1960), 27.
3
Patrick Gilkes, The Dying Lion (London: Julian Friedmann Publishers LTD, 1975), 17.
4
Donald N. Levine, Greater Ethiopia (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1974), 122.
5
Ibid.
6
Edward Ullendorff, The Ethiopians (London: Oxford University Press, 1967), 144.
7
Cited by Margery Perham, The Government of Ethiopia (London: Faber and Faber Limited, 1947), 406.
8
Robert Hess, Ethiopia: The Modernization of Autocracy (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1970), 37.
9
Mulatu Wubneh and Yohannis Abate, Ethiopia: Transition and Development in the Horn of Africa (Boulder,
Colorado: Westview Press, 1988), 1.
10
Perham, The Government of Ethiopia, 104.
11
Ibid., 76.
12
“The Constitution of Ethiopia of 1931,” WordPress.com, April 2011.
https://chilot.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/ethiopian-constitution-of-1931.pdf.
13
A. H. M. Jones and Elizabeth Monroe, A History of Ethiopia (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965), 63.
14
Markakis, Ethiopia: Anatomy of a Traditional Polity, 42.
15
Tadesse Tamrat, Church and State in Ethiopia 1270-1527 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1972), 96.
16
Ibid., 97.
17
Hess, Ethiopia: The Modernization of Autocracy, 40.
18
Gebru Tareke, Ethiopia: Power and Protest (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 37.
19
John M. Cohen and Dov Weintraub, Land and Peasants in Imperial Ethiopia (Assen, The Netherlands: Van Gorcum
& Comp. B. V., 1975), 31.
20
Perham, The Government of Ethiopia, 278-79.
21
14.
22
Cohen and Weintraub, Land and Peasants in Imperial Ethiopia, 37.
23
Donald Levine, Greater Ethiopia, 146.
24
Perham, The Government of Ethiopia, 164.
25
Gebru, Ethiopia: Power and Protest, 58.
26
Haggai Erlich, Ethiopia and the Challenge of Independence (Boulder, Colorado: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 1986),
xi.
27
Donald Levine, Wax & Gold (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1972), 274.
28
Ibid., p. 86.
29
W. C. Plowden, Travels in Abyssinia (Westmead: Gregg International Publishers Limited, 1972), 137.
30
Richard Greenfield, Ethiopia (New York: Frederick A. Praeger, Publishers, 1968), 76.
31
Plowden, Travels in Abyssinia, 60.
32
Kebede Mikael, Yeqiné Azmara, trans. Bethlehem Hailu Dejene (Addis Ababa: Birhanena Selam Printing Press,
1946) 97-99
33
Markakis, Ethiopia: Anatomy of a Traditional Polity, 102
34
Tadesse, Church and State in Ethiopia, 91.
Chapter IV
Eurocentric versus Ethio-centric Approaches to Ethiopia’s

Modernization Lag: The Concept of Derailment
After studying the link between survival and modernization, the next logical step is to provide
concrete answers to the question of why Ethiopia’s impressive record of survival failed to initiate
a successful process of modernization. In fact, the greater the resolution to survive, the more
determined should have been the drive toward modernization. Yet, not only is Ethiopia still ranked
among the poorest countries, but it is also entangled in numerous internal conflicts, the primary
consequence of which is an unending political instability threatening its very existence. However,
before delving into the reasons for the Ethiopian failure to modernize, we must make sure that the
analysis is sufficiently free from the drawbacks of the Eurocentric account, that is, from an account
solely based on the self-assumed normative standing of the West. Indeed, in speaking of failure,
the study commits to providing a native explanation, the very one that derives the failure from the
choices made by Ethiopian elite groups.
The Eurocentric Paradigm

To highlight the difference between the Eurocentric explanation and a native-based approach, let
us recall the main tenets of Eurocentrism, as laid down in Chapter I. Its basic assumptions stem
from the Western construct of world history and its portrayal of non-Western cultures as
congenitally deficient and backward. The construct stipulates that emancipation from barbarism
and ignorance can only come through indigenous cultures being towed by the Western engine. The
colonial project and its execution rested, precisely, on this idea that non-Western peoples are
incapable of pulling themselves out of what Westerners label “barbarism” and “ignorance.” Hence
the characterization of colonialism as a civilizing mission, which is none other than the assignment
that the West took up to, first, wipe out all obstructing beliefs and customs, and then inject into the
minds of indigenous peoples the rudiments of civilized life. The Western theoretical scheme turns
Western values and institutions into universal norms, thereby creating the framework for
portraying cultures not exhibiting such characteristics as retarded. Clearly, the Western perspective
provides no provision for apprehending the non-technicalness and communalism of non-Western
cultures—as opposed to Western technicalness and individualism—as orientations imparted by
different existential choices rather than by the congenital inferiority of the peoples who adhere to
the cultures.
The detrimental consequences of the Western construct of world history are thus obvious.
It transforms other cultures into representations of Western culture, whose consequence is that
their intrinsic natures are perverted. The purpose is to objectify the cultures, that is, to insert them
into a theoretical framework that both distorts and degrades them. The critical outcome of this
operation is that non-Western elites internalize, both through formal education and acculturation,
the Western description of their cultures. In so doing, they endorse the idea that they are deficient,
inferior, and unable to pull their countries out of the state that they themselves see as
“backwardness.” The uprooting impact of this internalized discourse is hard to resist: not only does
it alienate indigenous elites from their cultures, but it also instills a hidden resentment toward their
own history and traditions. The resentment has a profound decentering effect: the West becomes
the normative model, the absolute reference, and the center around which all other countries
revolve as peripheries. Even for the revolutionary Karl Marx, the normative status of the West was
an undisputable fact since, for him too, “the bourgeoisie . . . draws all, even the most barbarian,
nations into civilization.”1
Given that whatever belongs to indigenous peoples is classified as irremediably flawed,
modernization requires, first, that their leaders throw away their traditional beliefs and values and,
second, that they buckle down to the serious work of copying and implementing Western values
and institutions. What else is this requirement signifying but the literal application of the basic
principle of modernization theory as expressed in the maxim “tradition versus modernity”? Yet,
there is nothing else in the principle but the project of empowering the West by decentering and
marginalizing non-Western countries. The proof of this is found in the narratives about the
modernization of Western countries. As specified in Chapter I, the modernization of Western
countries is described in terms of renaissance, renovation of tradition, less so as liquidation of
tradition. The paradigm that turns the imitation of the West into a sine qua non for the
modernization of non-Western societies openly asserts that there is only one path to modernity,
and that is the Western path. The theory is therefore totally adamant about the idea of multiple
modernities, that is, the idea that each culture being unique, owing to the impacts of a specific
history, environment, and dissimilar foundational choices, should strike out its own road to
modernization.
The recognition of the need to particularize modernization exchanges the notion of one
type of modernity for the more promising avenue of multiple modernities. As a matter of fact, with
the spread of globalization, some scholars have even started to think that the notion of conflicting
modernities is better expressive of the ongoing reality than just multiple modernities. According
to them, the trend of history indicates that the different forms of modernity are not simply
coexisting; they also compete for the build-up of more power and the acquisition of greater
influence in the world. Thus, on the one hand, many Western globalists expect “the increasing
homogenization of all human societies, regardless of their historical origins or cultural
inheritances” through the global triumph of liberal democracy. 2 On the other hand, however,
scholars like Samuel Huntington assert that “the clash of civilizations will dominate global
politics.”3 Indeed, there is no denying that rival alternatives to the Western model, like the Chinese
version of modernity, nascent modern Islamism, and many other authoritarian brands, vie with the
principles of liberal democracy. That the West, far from being the model to imitate, is an adversary,
posits the issue of modernization in terms very distant from the precept “tradition versus
modernity.” Moreover, the idea of conflicting modernities does no more than confirm that survival
is, indeed, the underlying motive of modernization. Obviously, cultures that are different from the
West cannot hope to survive unless they develop social systems that can match the Western
material power.
4 EUROCENTRI VERSUS ETHIO-CENTRIC APPROACHES 47
Obstacles to Change
As could be expected, in agreement with the Western explanation of why non-Western countries
fail to modernize, most scholars attribute the failure of Ethiopian modernization to the radical
incompatibility of Ethiopian traditional values and social system with modernity. From what is
said in the previous paragraph, we can draw the inference that there is more than a mere oversight
in the analysis of those scholars who find the Ethiopian society inimical to modern values and
methods. They are all victims of the Eurocentric paradigm of modernization theory. A pertinent
example of this victimhood is Gebrehiwot Baykadagn. Fully endorsing the Western evolutionary
scheme, he writes: “If we follow the research of European scholars, humanity attained its present
level of understanding and wealth not at once but in stages proceeding from one to the other.”4
The assertion ratifies all the tenets of Eurocentrism, namely, the leading role of Europe, the
barbarism and backwardness of non-Western peoples, and the idea that modernization is to catch
up by copying the West. Let us not deceive ourselves by thinking that the students and intellectuals
who inspired and spearheaded the revolutionary upheavals of the early 70s had a different
explanation than Gebrehiwot and other early intellectuals. The ideology that propelled them,
namely, Marxism-Leninism, was just a radicalized version of Eurocentrism. For them, too,
defective characteristics have interrupted the process of the progressive march of history in
Ethiopia. The only difference is that the socialist revolutions in East Europe and Asia, and not the
West, are leading history’s progressive course.
In Chapter I, we alluded to attempts in Africa and elsewhere to break out of the Eurocentric
entrapment by the defense both of diversity and the notion of diverse roads to modernization. This
is not the path that most scholars took to understand the Ethiopian predicament. Instead, relying
on what they considered to be the facts of Ethiopian history, they endeavored to modify slightly
the Eurocentric paradigm to make its application fit the case of Ethiopia. Unable to deny Ethiopia’s
past advancements in many areas, they looked for blockages that hindered the continuation of its
progressive course. For most scholars, the negative changes that halted the Ethiopian advances
occurred either long before Emperor Menelik or as a result of the southern expansion. Whatever
the differences, for all these scholars, understanding the reason why Ethiopia lagged behind Europe
is identifying obstacles.
For Addis Hiwet, for instance, the main factors responsible for Ethiopian backwardness
are “(1) the long, protracted absence of social peace; (2) the character or the mode of life of the
dominant, warrior class; and (3) the slave trade.”5 With a slightly different emphasis, Gebru Tareke
assigns the serious internal conflicts tearing the country apart to the fact that “Ethiopian leaders
have been far less successful in nation-building than in state creation and consolidation.”6
Generally speaking, the hegemonic position of the Amhara elite and the subsequent inability of
Ethiopian leaders to accommodate ethnic and religious diversity on an equal footing are said to be
the principal causes of the lack of social peace. A society so sharply divided along ethnic and
religious lines will exhaust its strength and energy in internal quarrels and violent clashes rather
than embark on constructive efforts to promote modernization.
To be consistent with the acclimatized version of Eurocentrism, many scholars consider
the negative functioning of the traditional political system as the core obstacle. Because it
encouraged an incessant power game, it stood, they say, in the way of political stability. By
instituting a permanent power conflict, the political system nurtured a culture prone to constant
intrigue, mutual suspicion, and clientelism. Even during times of relative stability, competition
among claimants often led to civil wars, and this weakened the empire and deepened its
backwardness. Gebrehiwot is an important proponent of the theory ascribing Ethiopia’s
socioeconomic retardation to the frequent propensity of the political system to wreck social peace.
According to him, the brilliant civilization of Aksum and its Abyssinian extension soon lost their
dynamism and deteriorated into a stagnant system immersed in increasing poverty and an arrested
state of knowledge and techniques of production. He writes, “The obelisks testify that at the time
they were erected, the Ethiopian people had attained prosperity and power. If they were not
hampered by obstacles, in between, the period and extent of prosperity would have been longer
and greater.”7 How did such deterioration come about? Gebrehiwot’s answer is straightforward
and categorical: the lack of social peace, and that alone, explains why the great potential of the
Aksumite civilization was interrupted. In a short review of Ethiopian history, he shows how
continuous wars and pillages due to internal religious conflicts, foreign invasions, and regional
rivalries for the control of the imperial power halted the promising march toward progress.
“Looting and pillaging, which were learnt in that period, are prevalent even today,” he says.8 In
other words, in addition to weakening the imperial institution, the rise of warlordism set up
entrenched rival regional powers and induced a mindset that valued war and looting at the expense
of peace, production, and knowledge. Emphasizing and summarizing his finding, Gebrehiwot
writes, in Ethiopia, “the main obstacle to knowledge and wealth is war.”9
For Afework Gebre Yesus, too, the major impediment to the progressive development of
the Aksumite civilization has been the predominance of the warrior class and its warlike values.
Its major consequences were the absence of social peace and stability, the mistreatment of the
working people, and the disdain for intellectual works. He writes, “The authorities of this country
eat, drink, sleep and fatten themselves up like Easter sheep, and that at the expense of the property
of the poor people, who are continuously and mercilessly robbed by them.”10 Because of the
pernicious behaviors of kings and governors, a rich and beautiful country is destitute and unable
to progress. Afework touches on what is, according to him, the main reason for the lack of social
peace and progress, namely, the absence of a hereditary monarchy in Ethiopia. The abandonment
of the principle of hereditary transmission of power deprived Ethiopia of political stability by
preventing an orderly transition each time a king passed away. In Ethiopia, Afework notes, “the
replacement of a monarch entails a ferocious fight until one comes out winner.”11 Worse yet, it led
to the enthronement of usurpers who used terror and plunder to stay in power, the only way by
which they could silence their opponents and reward their followers and soldiers at the expense of
ordinary people.
The detrimental fallouts of the political system extend to the economic organization. The
gebar system, scholars say, was an economic system opposed to innovation and improvement. An
economic system in which, in addition to being unprotected by private ownership, land was
burdened with heavy taxes, offered no incentive to improve productivity. The system did not
benefit the producer, as raising outputs meant more taxes. In Europe, the practice of granting fiefs,
that is, of giving landholdings allowing lords and vassals the direct use of granted lands and the
appropriation of the incomes accruing from the use, progressively evolved into hereditary
holdings. This evolution gave the feudal class the incentive to raise productivity. In Ethiopia,
grafted on a communal system of landholding, the tax system, far from providing incentives for
improvement, created a state of mind exclusively concerned with collecting taxes. Uninvolved in
production, lords were only interested in amassing as much wealth as they could without any
concern for prospective investment. This reluctance to invest was further motivated by the
“insecurity of gult tenures” subsequent to the revocability of appointments.12 Additionally, in
depriving the system of any invigorating appeal for enrichment through hard work and productive
investment, the non-institutionalization of private property blocked the emergence of a “propertied
peasant stratum.”13
Among the prominent obstacles, scholars also include the all-dimensional and extreme
conservatism of the Ethiopian Church and its teachings. Beyond the controversies surrounding the
church (refer to the previous chapter), one thing cannot be disputed, namely, its powerful influence
on ordinary people as well as on elites in traditional Ethiopia. The fact that no Ethiopian monarch
was able to seize or retain power without the support of the church was a clear demonstration of
its authority. A major source of its influence came from the complete monopoly of the church on
the traditional system of education. In light of the absence of any noticeable and lasting reformist
movement, the monopoly meant the freezing of knowledge in general and social ideas in particular
to a medieval level. Because of this monopoly, Afework does not hesitate to say that “stupidity
and ignorance rule Ethiopia.”14 When so a powerful institution openly and categorically opposes
progress, the likelihood of change becomes close to impossible.
Take the case of Emperor Tewodros. He was the first to understand the extent to which the
extreme conservatism of the church combined with the ignorance of its clergy acted as a
formidable drag on the attempt to modernize Ethiopia. The reforms that he had in mind included
a reduction of its wealth through taxation and even confiscation of the vast lands it possessed.
Tewodros paid dearly for his reformist attempts, since one of the reasons for his defeat against the
British was, admittedly, the loss of the church’s support. For theoreticians, the fate of Tewodros
makes it quite clear that modernization is unthinkable so long as the church’s powerful influence
is not neutralized. This neutralization is all the more crucial because the church is one of the pillars
for the perpetuation of the power of monarchy and nobility. Struggle, the journal of the radicalized
Ethiopian students of the 60s fully echoed this analysis: the power of the aristocracy was, it says,
“further enhanced through the invaluable services rendered by religious organizations. Thus, the
masses are chained and downtrodden by fear of naked force on the one hand and ignorance bred
chiefly by religion on the other.”15
Modernizing Potentials of Traditional Ethiopia

The obstacles to modernization that scholars enumerate remain a one-sided approach so long as
they are not accompanied by a more balanced view. After all, the long survival of Ethiopia does
not square with the idea of a completely defective society. Let us begin with the lack of social
peace, since it is believed to have been the most important obstacle to modernization. It is correct
to underline the impact of regional and ethnic feuds, but without forgetting that the country would
not have survived for so long if Ethiopians did not at the same time share a common national
commitment. While many scholars admit that the sense of unity had prevailed in northern Ethiopia,
they say that the annexation of the south created a completely different situation: peoples with
different cultural backgrounds, dissimilar histories, and ethnic origins were forcefully incorporated
into the empire. The incorporation naturally led to widespread and ceaseless ethnic conflicts that
retarded modernization.
Without entering the debate generated by the various ideological constructions designed to
shore up the assimilation of the southern expansion to colonial conquest, let us reiterate the naked
truth, which is that the incorporation actually thwarted colonial designs against Ethiopia. It is
hardly believable that the southern peoples would support the independence of Ethiopia without
feeling part of it, even if the system was wanting in terms of equal treatment. In Chapter II, we
indicate that Ethiopia’s survival owes a great deal to the southern expansion. Both in terms of
expanding the resources available to the state and providing an additional fighting force, the
southern expansion considerably strengthened the defensive capacity of Ethiopia against colonial
threats. The following statements taken from Raymond Jonas’s study give a taste of the
contribution of just one Oromo contingent to the victory of Adwa. Jonas speaks of “Ethiopian
infantry” being “covered by Oromo cavalry.”16 A little further, he adds, “the appearance of Oromo
cavalrymen . . . had a notably dispiriting effect” on the Italian army.17
The explanation for this sense of belonging despite the initial differences is that the
Ethiopian identity is not a lineage-based identity, given that allegiance to the transcendent
authority of the emperor and the universalist religion of Christianity (at least until the revolution
of 1974) defined it. The Christian message transcends ethnicity, race, and geography and, as we
saw, Ethiopian emperorship was not lineage-based. So that, both allegiances excluded no one in
the sense that sharing the same ethnic identity was not a condition of membership in the Ethiopian
community. In fact, with the integration of southern peoples, the Ethiopian identity was
increasingly becoming a melting pot for various cultures. This ability to integrate different cultures
shows at the same time its potential to evolve in the direction of modern changes. The fact that
people were Ethiopian, not because of their ethnic affiliation, but because they were members of
a supra-tribal community, is proof of the modernizing ability of Ethiopianism. This plasticity of
Ethiopian identity provides a pertinent answer to all those many scholars, especially those of
Oromo extraction, who wonder why, considering the coercive nature of Menelik’s expansion, the
southern peoples came to the defense of Ethiopia. Indeed, both the plasticity of the identity and
the possibility of social mobility attracted ambitious and talented community leaders, who
mobilized native followers and joined Menelik’s army. The many southerners who moved into the
various echelons of power testify to the emergence of new southern elites that incorporated into
the Ethiopian power system with all the benefits accruing from the integration.
As to the charge against the incessant competition for power inherent in the traditional form
of social mobility, it does not alter the fact that it had a modernizing potential. All modernization
theorists agree that the prevalence of social mobility over rigid social stratifications demarcates
modernity. It is only when people occupy places in accordance with their individual merits rather
than seniority, birth, lineage, or confession that modernity takes root. As we saw, even though the
criteria controlling the mobility were not modern, positions in Ethiopia were appointments, not
hereditary rights, and as such depended on services to the state. This mobility enabled the
integration of non-Amhara individuals into the ruling elite, just as it instituted a form of
competition that modernization would have taken up and developed further if the ruling class had
shown a serious modernizing commitment.
In connection with the absence of social peace, war and the cultivation of warlike values
have been accused of hindering the modernization effort. Doubtless, war is destructive by
definition; it is also contemptuous of the values of hard productive works, inventiveness, and
democracy, that is, of all the characteristics vital for modernization. Facts, however, do not support
this one-sided judgment on war and warlike values. World history associates great periods of
invention and change with the need to wage war. This is so true that it has been said, “War on the
continent of Europe provided the principal motive force for change between the end of the
seventeenth century and the Revolution.”18 In effect, the beginning of modern science is closely
tied up with the needs of warfare and conquest, such as those related to navigation and firearms,
not to mention the fact that Europe, which invented modernity and accomplished most of the
inventions, was the theatre of continuous and devastating wars more than any other continent.
Countries that possessed new means of warfare became powerful, while latecomers scurried to
acquire the mastery of those weapons. This is not surprising if one keeps in mind the link between
modernization and survival. A warlike society is, therefore, in no way at a disadvantage. Not only
does the need to possess powerful means of war provide a vigorous incentive for modernization,
but it also convinces the warrior class to read into economic achievements a refurbished expression
of its own traditional commitment and values. A good example of this is the rapid modernization
of Japan owing to the enthusiastic conversion of the Samurai warriors into entrepreneurs.
Another feature associated with the political system that is blamed for the retardation of
Ethiopian society is authoritarianism. True enough, for many theoreticians, the opposition between
tradition and modernity stems from the negative role of authoritarianism. What could be more
repressive of the features of modernity, like innovation and change, than authoritarianism? Once
again, however, world history does not confirm this analysis. The countries that modernized were
authoritarian societies, in fact, the most puritan of them taking the lead, as evidenced by the
connection between Protestantism and capitalism. Considering this undeniable fact, we can even
say: the more authoritarian a society, the greater is its potential for modernization. As Emmanuel
Todd puts it, one necessary component of countries’ ability to modernize is “a certain
authoritarianism . . . [that] rules out their close adherence to liberal values.”19 The Protestant world,
the Jewish system that European countries inherited through the adoption of Christianity, the
presence of Germanic culture and, outside Europe, the non-liberal cultures of Japan, South Korea,
and China provide concrete cases of authoritarian societies that modernized successfully.
Authority was decisive in all these cases because transition to modernity cannot occur without a
cultural disposition for discipline, dedication, delayed gratification, and leadership respect. The
conclusion is obvious: if authoritarianism did not hamper modernization in other parts of the world,
neither could it be blamed for preventing the modernization of Ethiopia.
It follows that the negative role ascribed to the authority that the Ethiopian Church had on
people and elites suffers from one-sidedness. To be sure, the ecclesiastic authority had a stifling
impact on the progress of knowledge and social ideals. However, the haste to conclude that it was
devoid of any valuable potential overlooks the connection, noted above, between authoritarianism
and modernization. To begin with, as is widely acknowledged, churches and religious practices in
Europe have been accused of far more misdeeds than the Ethiopian Church. Yet, these wrongs did
not prevent religion from being fully a participant in the modernization of Europe to the point that
many scholars have even interpreted modernity as a progressive implementation of Christian
beliefs and ethics. True, it can be argued that, unlike the Ethiopian Church, religious beliefs in
Europe went through periods of self-evaluation and reformation that made them more responsive
to modernization. Still, some such argument must take into consideration the different conditions
of Christianity in Ethiopia and Europe: the threat of Islamic encirclement and isolation did not
allow the Ethiopian Church the luxury of self-examination and internal splits. The objective was
more about surviving, standing fast, as implied in the injunctions of the Kibre Negast, than about
responding to mundane solicitations. The duty-mindedness flowing from the assignment to stand
fast and the attendant authoritarianism and obedient disposition could have been formidable assets
if Ethiopian leaders and elites had steered modernization in the right direction.
The same can be said about the other often criticized feature of traditional Ethiopia, namely,
the central belief in idil. The wrong approach is to associate idil with fatalism and passivity. We
rejected as spurious the interpretation of the belief in terms of fatalism, given its role in promoting
social mobility. Idil, we argued, functioned like a calling urging individuals to be more daring and
ambitious. Though not fully identifiable with what is called the deviant mentality because of
deficiency in creativity, yet the idil mystique possessed some of the aspects of deviancy, notably
it harbored discontent and encouraged quest. In fact, a more open and differentiated society, such
as modernity is, would have been quite suitable for idil hunters. With its capacity to open more
opportunities for self-realization, modernity could have diverted the exclusive path of war deeds
toward other more productive pursuits, like economic, artistic, scholarly, etc., objectives, thus
replacing the quest for power over people with the quest for power over things. This could have
happened if, instead of being confined to the spiritual, the religious component of idil was
summoned to seek validation through material conquests.
Derailment versus Obstacles

Based on the above discussions, this much can be said: while it is true to state that some of the
attributes of Ethiopian traditional life were inimical to modernity, there were many more that could
have been quite supportive of it. The inability of Ethiopia to achieve modernization remains,
therefore, an enigma. Solving this enigma is nothing other than explaining why the strong
Ethiopian will to survive did not see modernization as the best and only medium to guarantee
survival, especially to counter colonial and neocolonial threats. In view of the proven inspirational
role of survival in the modernization process, the logical approach, as already intimated in the
analysis of the southern expansion, is to ascribe the Ethiopian failure to a derailment of the survival
will. Imputing the failure to the inherent defects of the society, in addition to being no more than
a borrowed Eurocentric reading, goes nowhere, since the so-called defects can also be viewed as
assets. Hence the need to effect a paradigm shift, which says that the obstacles originated not so
much from tradition per se as from a skewed encounter of tradition with modern elements.
The straying is easily explained: the integration of tradition with modernity did not take
the course of positive sociocultural changes through mutual adaptation, the consequence being that
tradition failed to assimilate properly with modern ideas and practices. Instead of facilitating
befitting changes, the encounter with modernity translated into beliefs and practices flowing from
the battening of traditional features on modern elements. Since in this kind of relationship, the
traditional uses modern elements for its own aggrandizement, the outcome is that traditional
features lose the system of restraints under which they operated in the past. Without the cultural
and institutional protections and ethical restraints, which used to safeguard their worthiness for the
traditional system, the path allowing traditional features to subsume modern elements cannot avoid
the formation of a severe imbalance, even anomaly. In going down the road of subsumption rather
than adjustment with modernity, the features give up moderation, and this turns their traditional
worthiness into modern vices. This skewed encounter can take various forms, like traditionalism,
Westernization, or articulation (the meanings of these concepts are discussed in Chapter I). All
these forms of change create social imbalances that produce harmful results. In the case of
Ethiopia, the most appropriate concept that defines its path to modernization, both during Haile
Selassie’s regime and, with some variations, during the two post-imperial regimes, is articulation.
Let us analyze how, in these three regimes, traditional features used modern elements to break
away from moderation, thereby creating the anomaly of a modern setting functioning without the
attendant political and cultural components.
First of all, the theory imputing the failure to modernize to the conflict, the incompatibility
between Ethiopia’s traditional features and modernity leaves us with some unanswered questions.
Thus, considering that Haile Selassie ruled for more than four decades, the argument according to
which a fundamental incompatibility was all along incapacitating the regime looks frail, to say the
least. For, it is one thing to underline the incompatibility, quite another to explain how the two
parts came together to form a particular social formation despite their antagonism. The latter did
not prevent the system from working, even if the results were disappointing for those who expected
better outcomes. Moreover, the attribution of the failure to modernize to the inadequacy of
tradition does no more than take up, as we insisted, the negative and disparaging views of the West
on whatever is not Western. The explanation makes sense only if one endorses the Eurocentric
paradigm and absolutely discards the existence of different civilizations that pursued diverse goals
in the course of human history. Thus, as shown in previous chapters, the injunction to stand fast in
the guardianship of Orthodox Christianity, as opposed to the Western resolution to become, in the
words of Descartes, “masters and owners of nature,” was Ethiopia’s specific mission.20 Lastly, the
incompatibility theory has yet to explain why the expected modernization did not materialize once
a radical revolution removed the alleged backward and reluctant traditional features. The two
successive regimes that came after Haile Selassie did not do better in terms of modernization,
despite their forcefully claimed determination to remove the obstacles standing in the way of
Ethiopia’s modernization.
A better approach is the one that starts by admitting the sui generis nature of the imperial
and post-imperial regimes. The admission endows the regimes with their own proper features and
modes of functioning. Instead of blaming tradition, the approach says that modernity was not so
much blocked as used to buttress traditional longings. So understood, the reason why the
modernization that the three successive regimes promised did not come to fruition stands out
better. For instance, let us take the evolution of Haile Selassie’s imperial power toward autocracy.
While it is true to say that all Ethiopian emperors have aspired to wield absolute power, none had
succeeded in amassing as much power as Haile Selassie. Previous emperors could not remove or
prevail for an extended time over the traditional limitations to their power, like the autonomy of
regionalism and the authority of the church. Haile Selassie was able to prevail because he borrowed
“from abroad modern instruments, methods and institutions and introduced its capital and its
technology” to achieve absolute power.21
In the economic sector, as already said, the traditional gebar system evolved, under Haile
Selassie, into the oppressive system of tenancy in the south. Since the system, in addition to
extracting more taxes from peasants, carried out extensive expropriation of land, its promise to
improve productivity and raise the standard of living of people was hardly realizable. Both its
design and goal only worked for the exclusive interests of voracious absentee landlords. Certainly,
the system did not expand into the northern part of the country. Still, owing to the centralized
imperial state and the possession of modern means of repression and control, heavier taxes were
levied on northern peasants, who could no longer resist as in the past. Even more seriously, the
communal foundation of the rist system seemed increasingly threatened under the cover of
reforming the landholding system. Peasants reacted here and there, the most important being the
peasant rebellion in Gojjam in 1968. All in all, thanks to the introduction of modern means, the
traditional ruling class consolidated its power and wealth at the expense of the peasantry to a degree
never reached in the past.
Contrary to expectations, the end of monarchy and “feudalism” did not deliver a more
productive agricultural sector. The Derg eradicated the traditional systems of rist, rist-gult, and
tenancy through a radical policy of nationalization of rural and urban lands. It applied the same
policy to the industrial sector: it nationalized all industries and other sectors with some economic
importance. Despite some liberalizing measures in urban sectors, the regimes that followed the
Derg left intact the nationalizations of rural and urban lands. So that, rather than injecting into the
socioeconomic system an incentive for improved productivity, the two post-Haile Selassie regimes
went in the direction of strengthening the state’s control over social production. Both tenancy and
the rist system were removed, but in favor of direct state ownership, with the state becoming the
only collector of taxes levied imperiously on producers and implemented through its various agents
thanks to its sprawling bureaucratic apparatus. Even though the traditional monarchical system
had longed for absoluteness, it never materialized because of numerous traditional safeguards. Not
so with post-imperial Ethiopia: the nationalizations and the accompanying tighter centralization
ensured that ruling elites’ control of power reached a level of absoluteness never attained before.
What is most disconcerting about Ethiopia is that its transition from monarchy to republic,
unlike the experience of many other countries, did not usher in any liberalization. On the contrary,
the two regimes that came after Haile Selassie exceeded by far imperial absolutism, even though
both claimed to end absolute power in Ethiopia once and for all. The question is: how, in a republic
where power is supposed to emanate from the people, those who control the state manage to wield
more power than the deposed monarch? The answer lies in the subordination of the state to a party
harboring a revolutionary and partisan agenda. In the name of the interests of a social group, be it
a particular social class, ethnic group, or religious constituency, the state is turned into an
instrument of a sectarian ideology and policy. Since such a state champions a partisan cause, it has
no autonomy vis-à-vis the ruling party and, consequently, is exclusive by definition. Under a
normal democratic context, the victorious party uses the state to advance its agenda, but it also
operates under norms and institutions that defend democratic rules, like majority rule, protection
of human rights, freedom of speech and organization. But when the state operates under the
partisan agenda of a party, that is, when there is no longer any distinction between the state and
the ruling party, the norms of partisanship override democratic rules and frame the goals and
methods of the state.
Up until and including Haile Selassie, the legitimizing instance for the exercise of state
power in Ethiopia was divine election. The divinely sanctioned absolutism, however extensive,
expected emperors to rule their subjects in accordance with Christian principles. For a
revolutionary and partisan agenda, the priority is not so much the rights of people as the removal
of rights from one group to benefit another group. This change alters the functions of the state. For
instance, as implied in the expression “class justice” that Marxist revolutionaries often used, the
notion of equitable justice for all mutates into a notion of justice benefiting one class or a group to
the detriment of another class or group. The alteration allows an unrestricted, limitless use of state
power for the implementation of an exclusive political and economic agenda. Under both the Derg
and the TPLF, the metamorphoses of the Ethiopian state into a party-state in which other parties
are either outlawed or forcefully marginalized and controlled explains, therefore, the reason why
Ethiopia found itself under a state commanding more power than under the previous monarchical
government.
True, the Derg first seized state power in the name of a comprehensive and inclusive
political program known as Ethiopia Tikdem (Ethiopia First). But very soon it realized that it
needed a revolutionary and partisan program to define and consolidate its power. This is exactly
what Mengistu Haile Mariam did once he emerged victorious from the violent power struggles
within and outside the Derg. In creating the Workers’ Party of Ethiopia and espousing Marxism-
Leninism as the official ideology of his party and the country, he brought the state under the full
control of a party completely devoted to him and to his partisan agenda favoring workers and
peasants at the expense of the traditional nobility, the emerging wealthy class, the upper echelons
of the military and bureaucratic apparatuses, and educated elites. Instead of a class agenda, the
TPLF adopted the version of Marxist-Leninist ideology that supports ethnic groups, henceforth
baptized “nations” and “nationalities,” against the Amhara hegemony. In order to realize this
political program, it pushed for the creation of ethnic parties that grouped into a tight organization
known as the EPRDF. The Leninist rule of “democratic centralism” held together the ethnic parties
under the inflexible hegemony of the TPLF. In completely identifying the state and party, the
TPLF made sure that the partisan goal of both weakening the Amhara standing and shaping the
state as a weapon promoting the interests of the Tigrean elite is fully functional.
Together with the mushrooming growth of the state due to the removal of moderating
restraints, the absoluteness of authority infused every aspect of social life in Ethiopia. The
exposure to modernity did not temper the traditional centrality of authority in favor of some
liberalization; on the contrary, it heightened it through a sprawling authoritarianism allowed by
the unprecedented centralization of state power thanks to the use of modern means of control and
repression. So absolute an authority is totally impervious to accountability as well as to impersonal
and rational norms. As a result, extreme deference to a degree never seen before pervaded the
relations between superiors and subordinates. Since the only assignment of subordinates is to fulfill
the whims of their superiors, innovation and initiative, let alone criticism, amounted to
insubordination. “Any political position,” Clapham notes, “is essentially a personal position rather
than an impersonal office.”22 Consequently, in place of achievements, nepotism, the cultivation of
kinship ties, obsequiousness, etc., became the royal road to social promotion. A no less negative
derivation of the authoritarianism of the system is the prevalence of vertical relations over
communal solidarity. The undue importance of vertical relationships, insofar as it weakens
communal interests, holds back the development of class consciousness and solidarity, with the
consequence that mass movements able to pressure the ruling elites for change become hard to
organize. In the Ethiopian context, modern organizations, such as political parties and trade unions,
which would be based on common ideological or economic interests, are overtaken by client
relationships or by individual opportunist calculations. This weakness of communal solidarity
explains why Ethiopians are ill-equipped to organize strikes and other forms of peaceful protests,
with the view of defending or obtaining collective rights.
Even the Ethiopian social mobility, contrary to expectations, went in the direction of
reinforcing its harmful side, less so its potentials to support modernization. The belief that comes
naturally to mind is to assume that the encounter with modernity would incline the culture of
mobility to cherish the climbing of the social ladder through hard work, investment, and
innovation. In the past, the principal path to social mobility was war exploits, which were rewarded
with tax rights. In today’s Ethiopia, though business has gained some momentum, it is still
dominated, as we saw with the policy of nationalization, by the primacy of the politico-military
criterion. I say “politico-military” because in “modern” Ethiopia, as was the case in traditional
Ethiopia, entitlement to power is dependent on the control of a military force, but in a way that far
exceeds the past practice, owing to the removal of the traditional restraints, like the balancing
authorities of the church and regionalism as well as of communal solidarity. Accordingly, those
who are in charge of state power use various modern means to perpetuate the complete
subordination of social activities to the political system. In particular, business activities are
subjected to constant intimidation and extortion for the purpose of enriching the political elite
class. In other words, just as in the past, Ethiopian social mobility values more power over people
than power over things. The only difference with today’s Ethiopia is that it uses powerful modern
means to exert control. In opening new opportunities, Ethiopia’s encounter with modernity, far
from lessening the authoritarian structure, reinforced it, and this is evidenced by the repeated
inability of the political system to adopt and implement democratic norms and working procedures,
despite the reiterated promise of those who happen to seize power.
At the cultural level proper, we find the same derailment as in the sociopolitical system.
The excessive dominance of authority pervades all cultural activities. Take the case of education.
Though the traditional system valued education, the concept of “education for the sake of inquiry
as such or for personal development was never permitted in its program.” 23 Learning was
essentially a rehearsal, an unaltered transmission of what has been accepted once and for all.
Personal inquiry and the development of critical aptitude were promptly discouraged in favor of
an educational system deliberately designed to perpetuate tradition. The general outcome of this
conservatism was the utter stifling of creativity. Far from altering this state of things, the
intersection with modernity elevated the stifling to a new level. Thus, during Haile Selassie’s time,
despite the promise of modernization, nothing was done to correct this chronic deficiency in
creativity. Protesting against the suppression of academic freedom, one university professor wrote
in 1968 an article in Dialogue, the Journal of the Ethiopian University Teachers’ Association, in
which he implored the ruling class to be open to dialogue and free exchange of ideas, for “a
university is a place where people can learn to think fearlessly and objectively.”24 The successive
post-imperial governments, not only followed the same authoritarian path of imposing their own
ideological and political views, but they also did it on a scale never known before. Together with
modern schools and universities, government-controlled media and modern means of surveillance
and repression laid out a totalitarian grip on the country. The fallout was that the culture was
deprived of any potential for hatching modernity, given that a break with authoritarian culture
conditions the appearance of innovativeness. A word of caution: the problem is less authority than
a barren form of authority. After all, as said earlier, Japan, East Asian countries, and other nations
have demonstrated the modernizing potential of authoritarianism when a genuine determination to
develop modern forces drives it. The simple reinforcement of unmodern pursuits by exploiting
modern means, as was and still is the case in Ethiopia, moves on the wrong side of modernity.
The same straying from the path of modernity occurred with the notion of idil. Ill-adopted
to modern requirements and understood as an exclusive allotment, idil cannot accommodate a
cumulative conception of individual and social advancements. In the extremely limited
opportunities of the traditional system, the exclusion of a drive toward a general betterment was
in the order of things. The limitation entailed the rule that one had to occupy one's proper place at
the expense of another individual, since the rise of one individual required the fall of another.
Besides encouraging zero-sum social interactions, belief in idil was adamant to rationalization.
Nothing could be planned, as everything depended on divine will over which humans have no
control. It was also little inclined to value self-realization through hard work. Instead, it extolled
warlike values, since military prowess was construed as the divine mode of allotment of one's
place in society. As said earlier, a society founded on the martial spirit cherishes authoritarianism
and power concentration to the detriment of democratic rules, so essential to modernity.
The upshot is that an unreformed belief in idil in a transitional situation is prone to grasp
modern political and economic competitions as zero-sum games, which also means games free of
ethical norms. In consequence, the goal of absolute power through the sheer elimination or
imprisonment of opponents becomes the rule of political competition. In business practices,
unethical enrichment turns into the fundamental rule of the game, with the outcome that it opens a
wide door for vices, such as the proliferation of greedy methods, corruption, embezzlement, etc.
Neither the imperial regime nor the post-imperial ruling elites did anything to adjust the fervor of
idil to modern opportunities and working conditions. In the past, as it was tied to God’s choice, it
operated within an ethical and religious parameter. In post-traditional Ethiopia, because politics
and economics were not integrated into the religious culture, the religious restraint has been eroded
and confined to matters of the soul. As a result, raw politics and enrichment by all means pervade
the secular life.
1
Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, “Manifesto of the Communist Party” in Basic Writings on Politics & Philosophy
(New York: Anchor Books, 1959), 11.
2
Francis Fukuyama, The End of History and the Last Man (New York: The Free Press, 1992), xiv.
3
Samuel P. Huntington, “The Clash of Civilizations?” Foreign Affairs 72, no. 3 (1993): 22.
4
Gebrehiwot Baykadagn, State & economy of early 20th century Ethiopia (London: Kamak House, 1995), 62.
5
Addis Hiwet, Ethiopia: From Autocracy to Revolution (London: Review of African Political Economy, 1975, 17.
6
7
Gebrehiwot, State & economy of early 20th century Ethiopia, 76.
8
Ibid., 74.
9
Ibid., 76.
10
G. J. Afevork, Guide du Voyageur en Abyssinie (Rome: Imprimerie C. De Luigi, 1908), 99 (my translation).
11
Ibid., 225 (my translation).
12
Donald Donham "Old Abyssinia and the New Ethiopian Empire: Themes in Social History," in The Southern
Marches of Imperial Ethiopia, eds. Donald Donham and Wendy James (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1986), 14.
13
Dessalegn Rahmato, "Famine in Peasant Consciousness: Aspects of Symbolic Culture in Rural Ethiopia," in
Proceedings of the Fifth Seminar of the Department of History (Addis Ababa: Addis Ababa University Press, 1990),
42.
14
Afevork, Guide du Voyageur en Abyssinie, 151 (my translation).
15
“Editorial,” Struggle 2, no. 2 (1968): 1.
16
Raymond Jonas, The Battle of Adwa: African Victory in the Age of Empire (Cambridge, Mass.: The Belknap Press
of Harvard University Press, 2011), 205.
17
Ibid., p. 213.
18
C. B. A. Behrens, Society, Government, and the Enlightenment (London: Thames and Hudson, 1985), 41.
19
Emmanuel Todd, The Causes of Progress (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1987), 177.
20
Descartes, “Discourse on the Method,” Philosophical Writings (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill Publishing, 1978), 46.
21
Rene Lefort, Ethiopia: An Heretical Revolution? (London: Zed Press, 1983), 14.
22
Christopher Clapham, Haile-Selassie's Government (London: Longmans, 1969), 6.
23
Donald Levine, Wax & Gold (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1972), 135.
24
Mesfin Wolde-Mariam, “The Role of Universities in Underdeveloped Countries,” Dialogue 1, no. 2 (1968): 4.
Chapter V
Derailed Modernization: The Imperial Phase
The critical review of the explanation of the failure of Ethiopian modernization from the
perspective of modernization theory, that is, from the alleged contrast between tradition and
modernity, has revealed that the concept of derailed modernization is more appropriate than the
argument stating that inherent defects prevented Ethiopia’s modernization. The expression
“derailed” puts the blame not so much on inner obstacles as on the spoiling of assets and
opportunities. The change of approach speaks of engagement into a wandering path, the outcome
of which was and still is the multiplication of difficulties. Indeed, obstacles hinder, but they can
also be either removed or circumvented. Not so derailment: because it is a wandering path, it
initiates a movement that continuously bumps against itself, and so is caught in a self-destructive
cycle. Let us see how Haile Selassie laid the foundational phase of the wandering course.
The Imperial Interpretation of Modernization

Haile Selassie’s early autocratic aspiration could not but welcome the principle opposing tradition
to modernity. This basic axiom of modernization theory signified to him that the removal of all
those traditional authorities limiting the imperial power is the sine qua non of modernization. Even
if Haile Selassie was not exposed to the theory through the traditional academic avenue, he was
educated at home by French missionaries. For these missionaries, the modernization of Ethiopia
cannot be any different from the rest of African countries, except that it will be done through the
instrumentality of a native emperor who has endorsed the normative status of the West. It will not
be called colonization, but the difference is only one of form rather than content. Instead of being
a direct colonial rule, it will be executed via the autocratic rule of the emperor. The liquidation of
backward beliefs and institutions will, therefore, be as forcefully carried out, as in a colonial rule.
However, not being revolutionaries, neither the missionaries nor Haile Selassie himself wanted to
eliminate the nobility as a class or the church as an influential institution. As we saw, Haile Selassie
aimed at breaking the power of the nobility, while maintaining it as a necessary component of his
regime.
The deep link between Haile Selassie’s autocracy and modernization theory stands out
when we reflect on the use of the theory to justify autocracy. Indeed, the theory is perfectly in tune
with the explanation according to which the existence of powerful regional forces and the
subsequent weakening of the imperial power in the course of Ethiopian history account for
Ethiopia’s backwardness. In effect, as we saw, expatriate advisors, teachers, and their Ethiopian
disciples have relentlessly propagated the idea that the main culprit for the Ethiopian lag is the
chronic absence of peace and political stability. In difference to other Black African countries,
Ethiopia had reached in the past a level of civilization that could qualify as advanced, even by
60 ETHIOPIAN MODERNIZATION: OPPORTUNITIES AND DERAILEMNETS
Western standards. The progress of that civilization was blocked because of conflicts and wars
that regularly ravaged the country. The solution to Ethiopia’s problems is then obvious: Ethiopia
will modernize and catch up with the West only through a political change that eradicates regional
powers and establishes a strong and centralized imperial state.
The missionaries who introduced Haile Selassie to the modern world must have brandished
the model of France’s history of state centralization. Generally speaking, the consensus is that
European countries modernized thanks to the centralization of state power, which ended the
fragmented and decentralized system of feudalism. The attainment of political stability subsequent
to the dissolution of regional armies and the establishment of a centralized authority guiding and
supervising the modernization process ensured the successful implementation of modernizing
reforms in Europe. The lesson here is that peace cannot prevail so long as regional nobles are
allowed to have their own armies, and modernization cannot succeed unless a centralized authority
is planning and overseeing it.
Another lesson from Europe is that modernization necessitates the separation of church
and state. However, owing to the ignorance of the Ethiopian clergy and the proverbial reluctance
of the Church to welcome modernizing reforms, the separation must not reach the level of full
autonomy. Instead, the imperial state must assume a tutorial role, which became completely
possible after Haile Selassie put an end to the tradition of the Coptic Orthodox Church in
Alexandria nominating Egyptians as heads of the Ethiopian Church. The suspension of the
Alexandrian link has been praised as an important and positive achievement of Haile Selassie. In
reality, since the nomination of Ethiopian Abunas could no longer occur without his approval, the
real fallout of the reform was to put the Ethiopian Church “more under imperial control.”1 To quote
Stéphane Ancel and Éloi Ficquet, “The monarch took control over the church through two parallel
strategies. The first was to obtain from Egypt the right to have an Ethiopian patriarch and Ethiopian
bishops. The second was to put all the country’s parishes and monasteries under a centralized
authority.”2
Undoubtedly, the tenets of modernization theory were highly appealing to a monarch
determined to acquire absolute power. The theory provided the emperor with the ideological
weapon that he needed to slash the power of the two traditional competitors against the imperial
power, namely, the nobility and the church. But there is more than the use of the theory for an
absolutist design. It also offers protection against the humiliating discourse of colonialism, which
protection makes it all the more acceptable. Indeed, the attribution of Ethiopia’s backwardness to
the lack of peace and stability, in particular the implication that the rise of warlordism interrupted
its great inroads in the past, suggest that Ethiopians did not lag behind because of some racial
inferiority. Seeing that the colonial discourse ascribes the absence of “great civilizations” in black
Africa to the racial deficiencies of black peoples, the explanation of Ethiopia’s backwardness
moves the blame from race to the deterioration of its social fabric toward war and anarchy. The
apparent removal of the attribution of backwardness to racial disabilities is not only reassuring; it
also rehabilitates Ethiopians in the eyes of the colonizers, and so justifies Ethiopia’s entitlement to
modernize without the need for direct colonization.
As we saw in the previous chapter, the entitlement of Ethiopia to be its own agent of
modernization was a belief shared by many early Ethiopian scholars of modernity. The belief
presupposed the change of the explanation of Ethiopian backwardness from race to political
obstacles. In whatever particular way the scholars analyzed the country’s retardation, the
consensus was that Ethiopia, which had a brilliant past, entered into a slumbering existence that
caused its massive lag behind Europe. The solution, the scholars said, is to awaken from this
5 DERAILED MODERNIZATION: THE IMPERIAL PHASE 61
lethargic state, and modernization is just this act of waking up. That is why writings and speeches
predating the 1935 Italian invasion defined modernity as “light” or “dawn” and analogized the
transition from traditional culture to modernity as a passage from darkness to light, from night to
day, from sleep to wakefulness.
For instance, a book published in 1924 in which statements of Ethiopians are collected
refers to a newspaper, characteristically called “The Dawn of Ethiopia,” that defines modernization
as the moment when the people of the world are “awakened from their sleep.” 3 Modernization
defined as light and awakening suggests that Europe, too, had slept for a long time. However,
compared to Ethiopia, European countries woke up earlier. The book reproduces the poem of an
Ethiopian by the name of Mambaru. One of its verses reads as follows:
The people of Europe were like us:

By the increase of knowledge and work,
They mounted to the sky in order to float there.4
The clue to the Ethiopian conceptualization of modernity lies in the translation of the Eurocentric
“civilized versus primitive” or “superior race versus inferior peoples” into “light versus darkness,”
“awakening versus sleepiness.” In thus putting everybody in the same initial condition of
ignorance and darkness, the conception affirms the fundamental sameness of all humans,
regardless of their race or nationality. To speak in terms of dawn and awakening also affirms the
equal potential of all humans to be awakened.
Haile Selassie totally adhered to the conception of modernity as light and awakening. Thus,
in one of his important statements he talked of Ethiopia as a “Sleeping Beauty . . . that is beginning
to awaken from her sleep.”5 He also named the official newspaper he founded Berhanena Selam,
that is, “Light and Peace.” As much as these expressions counter the racial explanation, they also
imply that Haile Selassie, the early Ethiopian intellectuals, and some important Ethiopian leaders
had endorsed the idea of a backward Ethiopia being awakened by the arrival of Westerners, the
providers of light. Granted its emancipation from the racist paradigm, some such conception of
modernization still views Westerners as tutors and Ethiopians as tutees. Also, it falls short of
describing the West as an opponent: since Ethiopians only need to be awakened, it considers the
intervention of the West, not as colonization, but as a helping hand. The path of Ethiopia is not to
modernize against the West; rather, it is to follow the Western model through the assistance of the
West itself.
The advocacy for tight centralization provides a good illustration of the concept of
derailment, which rests on a misplaced understanding of the requisites of modernization. In the
same way as the policy of nationalization adopted by post-imperial regimes, it discloses the wrong-
headed belief that the best solution for Ethiopia’s problems is to give more power to the central
state at the expense of social forces. Take the southern expansion. In explaining its real meaning,
we said that it was an anti-colonial move inspired by the strong survival will of traditional Ethiopia.
We also indicated that it had substantially increased its defensive power and thwarted colonial
threats. Unfortunately, it quickly developed another side that led to the overconfidence of the
ruling elite and the deferment of necessary reforms. The overconfidence rested on the belief that
the use of expansion to strengthen the state and its controlling power was enough to protect the
country. Hence the softening of the will to reform, particularly after the victory of Adwa, which
was viewed as a vindication of the unnecessity of further reforms. To quote Bahru Zewde, the
victory gave the ruling class “a false sense of self-sufficiency and ill-prepared them for the greater
danger of the 1930's.”6
The 1935 successful Italian invasion of Ethiopia displays the severe myopia caused by the
expansionist solution. Though the Ethiopian ruling elite was beforehand aware of Italy’s
preparation for another war, it was powerless to stop it. The continuous postponement of reforms
due to overconfidence denotes a mindset victim of the illusion that centralization of power makes
the state stronger and, hence, more able to deal with the problems facing the country, whatever the
problems may be. Ethiopian leaders were all the more inclined to nurture this illusion as it
supported their longing for absolute power. The longing blinded them to the truth that giving more
power to the state could jeopardize the finding and implementation of real solutions to the
problems. To the extent that the southern expansion enabled the state to wield an unprecedented
level of authority and power thanks to new resources and increased revenues to the state, it made
possible its evolution into a “modern” autocracy under Haile Selassie. The notion of botched
modernization is in full display in this misuse of a positive move that saved Ethiopia from
colonialism. Without a doubt, the use of the southern expansion to strengthen state power stood in
the way of the full integration of southern peoples as well as of the implementation of much-needed
reforms.
Autocracy and its Aftermaths
The fact that the southern expansion created a structural modification unfavorable for
thoroughgoing modernizing reforms shows that the culprit for the botched modernization is
manifestly the progressive establishment of autocratic rule. Its consequences, namely, the
emergence of a grave imbalance between regional powers and the central power, the institution
and embedment of a parasitic landowning class, and the dispossession of society of any kind of
autonomous standing, are impossible to reconcile with a real modernizing program.
Harold Marcus situates the premises of the evolution toward autocracy just after the victory
of Adwa. He writes: Menelik's “tendency toward autocracy became more pronounced after 1896.
Whereas previously he had rarely made decisions without the advice of his major makwanent, after
the Battle of Adwa he acted independently. He alone was the Ethiopian state.”7 Surely, the prestige
of the victory as well as the important resources of the south made the imperial throne increasingly
more powerful, independent, and self-reliant. Neither regional lords nor any other traditional
institution could counterbalance the authority of the central government. By means of slow but
cumulative centralizing measures, regionalism and, with it, the Ethiopian traditional nobility, were
thus progressively stripped of their customary authority. Let us be clear: some form of
centralization was necessary, given the impossibility of implementing a modernizing program in
a social system breeding political instability, as was the traditional society, Still, when
centralization gives absolute power to the imperial throne in the name of modernization without
any safeguard against abuses, the very ones likely to go against the modernizing project itself, one
must admit that the hidden but intended objective is to use modern methods and institutions for a
non-modern purpose.
The mentioned divergence between the Japanese path and that of Ethiopia precisely
stemmed from the Ethiopian drift toward autocracy. Indeed, while the Meiji Constitution provided
the Japanese monarchy with a parliamentary system, no evolution toward the formation of a
parliament invested with some power came to pass in Ethiopia. This difference was the more
significant the more slavishly Haile Selassie's constitution imitated the Meiji constitution, except
on the question of “the power of the emperor vis-à-vis the legislative body.”8 Whereas the Japanese
political system increasingly tended to turn the emperor into a mythical figure, the Ethiopian
system went in the opposite direction of concentrating all powers in the hands of the monarch.
Given that the control of absolute power required the marginalization of the traditional
counterforces, especially of regional powers, the traditional nobility, and the church, it brought
about the progressive and systematic divestment of these forces of any important role in the
modernization process. The purpose was to present Haile Selassie as the sole inspirer, planner, and
executor of the modernization of Ethiopia. In order to accomplish this role, Haile Selassie appealed
to careerists devoted to him and somewhat exposed to Western education to assist him in the
consolidation of his autocratic rule. With the same purpose in mind, he opened modern schools
and exhorted parents to send their sons and daughters to these schools, the ultimate goal being the
formation of educated bureaucratic and military elites fully committed to him.
It should be noted that the political marginalization of traditional counterforces did not
entail a demotion from their social ranks; nor did it clear the way for their transformation into a
new class interested in supporting the modernization of the country. As a matter of fact, the
imperial plan had a two-fold purpose. The first one was to portray the traditional nobility in general
as antithetical to modern reforms, so as to justify its political marginalization. In this regard, the
early Ethiopian intellectuals called Japanizers gave an inadvertent helping hand to the autocratic
project of Haile Selassie through their description of the nobility as an irremediably conservative
and reactionary class. As an Ethiopian scholar notes, the Japanizers “held government positions
that required modern education and backed Haile Selassie in his drive to adopt progressive policies
which were opposed by the traditional nobility.”9 The indiscriminate characterization of the
nobility as reactionary did not probably correspond to reality since, as was the case in other
countries, there is always a split between the ultra-conservatives and those who understand the
need for reforms. All the same, the wholesale accusation of ultra-conservatism was accepted as a
true portrayal of the Ethiopian nobility, with the consequence that it boosted the justification of
autocracy. The sad part of the indiscriminate bashing of the nobility was that it missed the other
side of conservatism, namely, its attempts, no doubt clumsy, to oppose autocracy by defending the
traditional balance of power between the throne and the nobility.
The second imperial purpose was to turn the nobility into a class dependent on the power
of the throne, thereby changing its opposition to autocracy into forced support. This could be done
if, in compensation for its loss of power, which included the right to raise and command a regional
army, the nobility is made to have high stakes in the preservation of a powerful imperial regime.
In effect, both Menelik and especially Haile Selassie engaged in the task of distributing land and
tax rights to warlords, notably in the south. It is this practice of distributing land that most strikingly
exposes the degeneration of the southern expansion. As we saw in Chapter III, it led to the
institution of two different social systems in the northern traditional part and in the recently
integrated southern part. The traditional Ethiopian system of landownership excluded private
property as well as the existence of a landless peasant class. The economic power of the nobility
was based on gult rights—i.e., on the right to tax land—and not on direct ownership. The original
land policy of Menelik, known as the sisso system, was designed to introduce such gult rights in
the southern part. According to the policy “two-thirds of the land was confiscated and declared
state property, while the remaining third was left to the ‘natives’.”10 However, gult holders in the
south “managed to register the land and claim it in the form of ownership and reduce the cultivators
to tenancy in the course of the twentieth century.”11 Even though the progressive transformation
of tax rights into private ownership of land had begun during Menelik's time, after his death it was
accelerated and legalized by Haile Selassie's various land reforms. Thus, while the northern part
retained the traditional rist system, “tenancy emerged in the mid-1930s” in the southern part.12 It
was generalized and perfected through successive measures until the land policy of 1966 openly
decreed “the stark fact of irredeemable loss of land.”13
This dualist system of “overlordship in the north and landlordship in the south,” to use
Gebru Tareke’s felicitous expression, confirms that the rist system was the main stumbling block
to the rise of a landed nobility.14 Because kinship right regulated the rist system, it prohibited
private ownership, and hence the appearance of landless peasants. However, what neither the
imperial power nor the nobility had managed to achieve for so many centuries became possible in
the south, where a different land tenure prevailed and, most of all, where the status of conquered
territory reduced the possibility of sustained resistance. Combined with the ethnic disparity
between the conquerors and the conquered, these factors greatly facilitated the institution of private
holding. Tenancy appeared in Ethiopia because the sisso system in the conquered territories
permitted huge lands to be declared state property, which, in turn, allowed the transformation of
gult rights into private possessions. While the north retained the sense of kinship property enabling
it to resist state encroachment and privatization, state intervention in the south de-communalized
land ownership and accelerated the appearance of tenancy.
The state’s control of vast territories could not be anything other than a decisive backer of
the imperial power. It could be used to reward loyal associates and, more importantly, to
compensate the nobility for its political loss. The distribution of state-owned lands to the nobility
provided entitlement and protection for landownership to nobles and associates who had no
affiliation to local communities. And as the state progressively took over the military and
administrative role that traditionally belonged to the nobility, these grants were insidiously
transforming the whole nobility into a parasitic class. Cut off from local-based communities and
having no specific social responsibilities, nobles became absentee landlords. This right accorded
to the nobility to own land privately, how else could it be described but as a form of bribe, a
corrupting scheme? The contrast between Haile Selassie’s refusal of land reform and his acute
awareness of the need for such a reform confirms that land was used as a bribe. One would
definitely deduce the imminent announcement of land reform after hearing the following imperial
diagnosis: “The fundamental obstacle to the realisation of the full measure of Ethiopia’s
agricultural potential has been, simply stated, lack of security in the land. The fruits of the farmer’s
labour must be enjoyed by him whose toil has produced the crop.”15 This correct assessment did
not prevent the enacted “reforms” from going in the direction of expanding and strengthening
tenancy. The tag of a parasitic, useless, blood-sucking class could not have been better tailored.
It is here that we find another crucial distinction between Japan and Ethiopia. Reforms in
Japan were not so much meant to exclude the nobility as to force its conversion to modern methods
and values. Take the abolition of feudalism. As one author pointed out, “in Japan, feudal people
are abolishing feudalism. In so doing, they are of course changing themselves into another class.”16
Nothing of the kind happened in Ethiopia: not only was the nobility secluded from participating in
the modernization effort, but it was also changed into a dependent and parasitic class. As such, it
could defend its interests only by opposing reforms and supporting the imperial autocracy. Thus,
although Haile Selassie claimed that he has “assumed the sacred duty of guiding Our beloved
country along the path of progress and enlightenment and of amalgamating Ethiopia’s traditions
and customs with the demands of the modern world,” in reality, the so-called synthesis of
modernity with tradition was just a distortion of tradition in the direction of autocratic rule.17 The
truth is that Haile Selassie used modern means to eliminate all those traditional aspects that stood
in the way of autocracy while retaining the mythical religious meaning of emperorship.
Another, but no less critical outcome of Ethiopia’s derailed modernization under the
imperial autocracy was the gestation of a major problem that will adversely impact future
developments. I am referring to the termination of the federal status of Eritrea in 1962 and its
annexation as an Ethiopian province. The establishment and consolidation of an imperial autocracy
could not tolerate the federal autonomy of Eritrea for long: from the early days of the federation,
the imperial government engaged in various measures undermining the federal status, like banning
political parties and imposing the Amharic language. Soon after, not only guerrilla movements
protesting the annexation were set off, but they also gained momentum as Eritrean frustrations
grew to the point of embracing a secessionist agenda from Ethiopia. Needless to say, the
mishandling of the Eritrean issue is one of the major predicaments that Haile Selassie bequeathed
to the regimes that came after him. It is not an exaggeration to say that the resilience of the EPLF
guerrilla movement in Eritrea, not only inspired and influenced ethnonationalist ideologies in
Ethiopia, but more importantly, it lent decisive support that strengthened the guerrilla movement
that was to implement ethnonationalism in Ethiopia, to wit, the TPLF. Hardly can one think of a
legacy that is more detrimental to Ethiopia and its modernization than the botching of the Eritrean
federation. Quite rightly, the incompatibility between autocracy and the federal status of Eritrea
can be seen as the matrix of the ethnonationalist turn of Ethiopian politics.
The Imperial Educational System and Eurocentrism
There is no doubt that Haile Selassie, who had a clear insight into the decisive role of education
for his program of modernization, viewed the expansion of modern education as his major task.
As he himself put it: “We assumed the obligation to foster and expand education in Our nation
both as a solemn duty, because the nation can flourish and grow only as the ranks of the teachers
and students are expanded and filled.”18 The question is: What kind of education did Haile Selassie
have in mind? Obviously, the kind of education that is suitable to an autocratic rule that assumed
the task of “modernizing” the country. In other words, an education that is modern/Western
without being liberal and too deferential to past norms. In effect, the autocratic project went hand
in hand with an educational policy that had little tolerance for academic freedom at all levels of
the teaching process as well as in research and publications. To lay its foundation, Haile Selassie
mostly relied on an expatriate teaching staff, notably with a religious background, both to design
the curriculum and to do the teaching. He also sent young Ethiopians abroad for further university
studies who, on their return, became members of the teaching and administrative staff.
As mentioned in the last chapter, many university professors criticized the regime’s
repressive policy and exposed its detrimental effects on the educational system as a whole. Because
of the lack of academic freedom, higher institutions failed to educate students properly, that is, to
teach them to become rational, realistic, and open to peaceful and democratic debates. Without
freedom in teaching and research, students cannot develop sober, realistic, and critical thinking.
By contrast, the acquisition of realistic and critical thinking protects students from extremist and
dogmatic views. Indeed, students can neither connect with the true reality nor develop rational
views on social realities by critically confronting various theories if the right to teach freely and
disseminate objective research findings is outlawed and punished as a crime. Unfortunately, what
many professors feared became reality, as Ethiopian students progressively succumbed to
extremist ideologies propagated by fringe groups.
To understand fully the debacle of the Ethiopian educational system, it is crucial to reassess
the impacts of the Westernized system of education. When a non-Western country copies and
implements the educational system of the West, the mission of that education can only be to
modernize the society in the image of the West, which means literally to civilize the country, to
drag it out of its barbarism. The image presents the West as the educator and non-Western societies
as tutees. Not only is such a system closely affiliated with the colonial design, but it is also the
perfect instrument for natives’ internalization of the unequal, racist tutor/tutee relationship.
Unsurprisingly, the exported nature of the system of education aroused, especially during the early
years of its introduction, the strong opposition of the Ethiopian Church and most members of the
nobility. Though the opposition was a normal defensive reaction against the intrusion of an alien
system, it was again interpreted as another evidence of the anti-modernism of the two institutions.
Many criticisms can be labeled against the educational system under Haile Selassie. Poorly
funded, it suffered from the lack of both human and material resources. Also, it was unequally
distributed between regions and limited to some urban centers to the near exclusion of rural areas.
Another concern was the excessive emphasis on academic teaching at the expense of
technical/vocational trainings. Nonetheless, these criticisms, serious as they are, do not get to the
core of the problem, which is that the educational policy lacked national direction and objectives.
According to many scholars, the main reason for the lack of a national direction arises from the
decisive role that foreign advisors, administrators, and teachers played in the establishment and
expansion of Ethiopia’s educational system. Because of the influential role of foreigners, the
defining feature of the system was that it was “essentially constructed to serve a different society
than the Ethiopian one. . . . Curricula as well as textbooks came from abroad. There was little in
the curricula related to basic and immediate needs of the Ethiopian society.”19
The fact that the curriculum tended to reflect at all levels courses offered in Western
countries could only have a severe alienating effect. Notably, that Catholic and Protestant
academic staff played an influential role in the design and teaching of the curriculum clearly meant
that the educational system had forsaken the goal of defending and promoting the national culture,
which was interwoven (as perceived at the time) with the Orthodox religious legacy. Add to this
uprooting effect the glaring inadequacy of the system to the goal of national development, even
though the imperial regime used to reiterate that development was the main objective of education.
Copied from the West, the system was not geared toward the production of graduates trained to
serve the specific needs of the country, still less to partake in and contribute to the national
development plan and effort.
Official speeches repeatedly stressed the need to correct the system, “to Ethiopianize the
entire curriculum”20 But nothing substantial was done concretely. The little improvements that
were introduced here and there, for example, the offering of more courses on Ethiopia, such as
history courses, did not address the real problem. When the main issue was the ideological
reorientation of the entire educational system, a quantitative increase of courses devoted to
Ethiopia could hardly be consequential. Courses dealing with Ethiopian legacy, environment, and
socioeconomic problems were simply appended to a curriculum that remained largely Eurocentric
both in its inspiration and contents. Put plainly, the Ethiopian educational system failed to
accomplish the two basic tasks of any education, namely, the transmission of the cultural legacy
of the country to the next generation and the production of graduates trained to attend to the needs
of the country. Worse yet, by propagating the Eurocentric paradigm, the system produced students
with a declining sense of national identity, nay, with a marked contempt for their own legacy. In
so doing, what else could it foster but “a rootless social caste?”21 The usage of the Eurocentric
paradigm essentially signified that Ethiopian students were taught to see the world and their
country through the lenses of the West. They were thus analyzing their own country and
themselves, not from their own perspective, but from the borrowed and decentering perspective of
the West. In other words, they were relating to Ethiopia, their own country, as colonizers related
to non-Western countries. It is not surprising if they ended up thinking and behaving as colonizers,
thereby showing the same urge to dispose of whatever is traditional because they labeled it
“backward,” “uncivilized.”
Insofar as modern teaching was introduced by expelling the traditional system of education,
Ethiopian students had nothing to fall back on except to internalize the Western way of seeing
things. Let there be no misunderstanding: essentially religious and little in sync with modernity,
the traditional system was rightly criticized. But it is one thing to say that the system had to be
renovated, quite another to entirely throw away the old in favor of an alien system. The path taken
by Ethiopia was not to update, modernize the traditional system; it was to erase it so as to
implement an alien, nay, a belittling system of creeds and norms. In leaving the transmission of
legacy out of the educational system in the name of modernity, what else could have come to pass
but the complete “Westernization” of the Ethiopian youth? What is more, as the course of
subsequent developments confirms, from Westernization to the fascination with Marxism-
Leninism, judged more consistent in its aversion toward past legacy and norms, the passage is an
easy one.
The expulsion of the traditional education from modern schools naturally entailed a
considerable decline of the influence of the Ethiopian Church. The resistance of the church to
modern ideas and its refusal to reform itself is said to have been the major stumbling block to the
reformation of the traditional education. Yet, the problem was not so much the resistance of the
church as Haile Selassie’s reluctance to encourage its modernization. Rather than involving the
church in the process of modernization, he opted for a policy that shielded it from modernization.
The reason is always the same: in his bid to establish autocratic rule, the aloofness of the church
from modern life was the best way to curtail its traditional authority. Since the state’s appropriation
of the monopoly of education represented a great loss of authority, Haile Selassie compensated the
church, as he did with the nobility, with land grants and other privileges. This form of bribe did
nothing but transform the church’s “relative autonomy into dependency on the state’s policies.”22
Given that “the Churches in Europe managed to lay down the basis for most of secular higher
learning,” the charge of unsuitability to keep the Ethiopian Church out of the modernization
process was just a bogus pretext.23
Again, a comparison with Japan is most instructive. The way Japan introduced modern
education is singularly different from the Ethiopian experience. The difference does not lie in the
fact that Japan did not import or imported less from the Western educational system. It borrowed
from the West extensively, both by using foreign instructors and textbooks and by sending young
Japanese to Western countries for higher studies. As a Japanese scholar writes: “the methods of
constructing a modernized curriculum were modeled after European and American schools, and
necessary materials and tools for teaching were introduced from those countries.”24 The great
difference, however, was that the Japanese ruling elite quickly realized the danger of alienation.
Without a firm foundation in the traditional heritage, an educational system modeled on the West
could very well be quite uprooting. To counter this dangerous development, the government issued
a decree known as “the Kyộgaku Taishi (Principles of Education) of 1879,” which introduced the
traditional Confucian philosophy and ethics into the modern educational system. The declaration
emphasized the importance of “the virtues of benevolence, responsibility, loyalty and fidelity
based on the precepts of [Japanese] ancestors” and added that “in the teaching of morality, the
Confucian morality will be primary.”25 This interpenetration of the traditional and the modern
shaped a mind able to appropriate Western science and technology while remaining Japanese, and
this invested modern education with a national foundation and purpose. In this way, introducing
modern education amounted to the process of reforming and adapting the traditional teaching to
the modern world.
Haile Selassie’s policy of education did not contemplate correcting measures similar to
Japan's because it was saddled with a basic inconsistency. The inconsistency stands out when we
contrast his statements with the implemented system. In his official speeches, he often praises and
defends the traditional legacy of Ethiopia, but in practice he did nothing to protect it. For instance,
in one of his speeches, he said:
Ethiopia is a country with her own cultures and mores. These, our cultures and customs,
more than being the legacy of our historical past, are characteristics of our Ethiopianness.
We do not want our legacies and traditions to be lost. Our wish and desire is that education
develop, enrich, and modify them.26
In practice, however, “the imperial regime did very little to inculcate respect for Ethiopian
traditions of social and political organization. It left the curriculum and most of the teaching in
secondary schools to expatriates who quite naturally spread the gospel of modernization.”27 The
explanation for the inconsistency lies in the conflicting requirements of autocracy. The latter
opposes tradition as much as it needs it. The solution is then to change the opposition of tradition
to autocracy in such a way that it capitulates and becomes amendable to autocratic rule. This is
exactly the manner Haile Selassie dealt with the nobility. The latter was not simply eliminated; it
was preserved in a form that made it unable to counterpoise the imperial power. The same solution
was applied to the church: it was maintained but stripped of its traditional influence. In becoming
dependent, just as in the case of the nobility, the church was put in a position where it could only
champion autocracy. In the same way, the traditional cultural heritage was neither abandoned nor
renovated; it was simply neutralized by being kept out of the modernization process, and so
rendered unable to hinder the exercise of autocratic rule.
In adopting the Eurocentric paradigm, the educational system turned away from the nurture
of a competitive spirit against the West. The proof of this is that Ethiopia’s Westernized elite never
engaged in the task of defining the Ethiopian legacy as the outcome of a different cultural line, as
was attempted by some theoretical developments in Africa.28 These African theories refused the
qualification of backward or primitive by arguing that Western norms cannot evaluate cultural
trends that are dissimilar from those of the West. The case is different when the West is viewed as
a model: the guiding principle then becomes passive imitation rather than competition. By contrast,
the perception of the West as an opponent encourages deviations, that is, urges for the mobilization
of those traditional characteristics and peculiarities liable to bolster the competitive edge of the
developing country. It is because the imperial system forsook the defense of identity that the
educational system did not feel the need to renew and transmit the legacy. The final significance
of all this is clear enough: a system of education entirely modeled on the Western system
presupposes and consecrates the imperial regime’s acceptance of Ethiopia’s peripheral status. In
becoming a periphery of the West, Ethiopia ceased to have its own objectives and courses of action.
The missing national ideology in the system of education was thus just a manifestation of this loss
of national objectives and centeredness.
The irony is that the modern schools that Haile Selassie opened to serve his autocratic
project became the breeding ground for the liquidation, not only of the nobility, but also of the
imperial power itself. What is more, in a country renowned for its protracted and stubborn
religiosity, a great number of Ethiopian educated youth, including some bureaucrats and junior
officers, converted to Marxist atheism. How did this ideological and cultural turnaround become
possible in a country with a proven tenacious will for self-preservation? Answering this question
is also probing further into the momentum of derailment that impacted adversely on the
modernization process.
1
Patrick Gilkes, The Dying Lion (London, Julian Friedman Publishers, Ltd., 1975), 61.
2
Stéphane Ancel and Éloi Ficquet, “The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church (EOTC) and the Challenges of
Modernity” Understanding Contemporary Ethiopia, eds. Gerard Prunier and Elio Ficquet ((London: Hurst &
Company, 2015), 74.
3
Major J. I. Eadie, An Amharic Reader (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1924), 99.
4
Ibid., 229.
5
Paulos Milkias, “The Political Spectrum of Western Education in Ethiopia,” Journal of African Studies 9, no. 1
(1982): 26.
6
Bahru Zewde, “The Concept of Japanization in the Intellectual History of Modern Ethiopia,” Proceedings of the
Fifth Seminar of the Department of History (Addis Ababa: Addis Ababa University Press, 1990), 11.
7
Harold Marcus, The Life and Times of Menilik II: Ethiopia 1844-1913 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975), 214.
8
Bahru, “The Concept of Japanization in the Intellectual History of Modern Ethiopia,” 10.
9
Andargachew Tiruneh, The Ethiopian Revolution 1974-1987 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 9-10.
10
Bereket Habte Selassie, Conflict and Intervention in the Horn of Africa (New York: Monthly Review Press, 1980),
15.
11
Andargachew, The Ethiopian Revolution 1974-1987, 8.
12
Asafa Jalata, Oromia & Ethiopia (Boulder, Colorado: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 1993), 73.
13
98.
14
15
Haile Selassie, Selected Speeches of His Imperial Majesty Haile Selassie, 1918-1967 (New York: Createspace
Independent Publishing Platform, 2011), 493.
16
Bernard Bernier, Capitalisme société et culture au Japon (Montréal: Les Presses Universitaires de Montréal, 1988),
223 (my translation).
17
Haile Selassie, Selected Speeches, 409.
18
Ibid., 41.
19
Randi Rønning Balsvik, “Haile Selassie’s Students: Rise of Social and Political Consciousness,” PhD diss.,
(Norway: University of Tromsø, 1979), 6.
20
Teshome G. Wagaw, Education in Ethiopia (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1979), 123.
21
Addis Hiwet. “A Certain Political Vocation: Reflections on the Ethiopian Intelligentsia,” in The Ethiopian
Revolution and its Impact on the Politics on the Horn of Africa: Proceedings of the 2nd International Conference on
the Horn of Africa (New York: New School for Social Research, 1987), 45.
22
K., Loukeris, “Church and attempted modernization in Ethiopia,” in Ethiopia in broader perspective: Papers of the
13th International Conference of Ethiopian studies, Fukui K.E. & Shingeta, M. (Eds.) vol. II, (Kyoto: Shokado Book
Sellers, 1997), 217.
23
Tekeste Negash, Rethinking education in Ethiopia (Uppsala, Sweden: Nordiska Afrikainstitutet, 1996), 37.
24
Kaigo Tokiomi, Japanese Education: Its Past and Present (Tokyo: Kokusai Bunka Shinkokai, 1968), 53.
25
Ibid., p. 54.
26
Haile Selassie, Selected Speeches, 35.
27
Tekeste Negash, The Crisis of Ethiopian Education: Some Implications for Nation-building (Uppsala, Sweden:
Uppsala University, 1990), 76.
28
See Messay Kebede, Africa’s Quest for a Philosophy of Decolonization (New York: Rodopi, 2004).
Chapter VI
The Radicalization of Ethiopian Students
When one analyzes the Ethiopian Revolution of 1974, the aspect that needs to be primarily
explained is not so much the uprising against the imperial regime as its precipitous shift toward
socialist demands and slogans. Many unsolved problems liable to provoke widespread discontents
saddled the regime. None of them, however, required or invited a socialist revolution per se. The
decisive impulse toward a socialist revolution came undoubtedly from the Ethiopian student
movement. Accordingly, any inquiry about the revolution must begin by unraveling the reasons
that brought about the radicalization of a great majority of Ethiopian students and intellectuals. A
compelling reason for inquiring is that the movement had grave deleterious effects on the
modernization process, if only because it sowed the seeds of an authoritarian culture and elitist
style of leadership that repeatedly canceled out (and continue to do so) reformist attempts in favor
of extremist directions.
Doctrinal Primacy
The African scholar, Ali A. Mazrui, who gave a talk to a student body in December 1973,
characterized Ethiopian students as “the most radical African students [he] had ever addressed.”1
One would expect that this alarming level of radicalization is reason enough for scholars to
mobilize their efforts to understand its causes. Yet, the question of why students were so
radicalized is never answered in a satisfactory way. Most studies of the Ethiopian student
movement miss the necessity of a multifarious approach to understand the complex evolution of
the movement. They attribute the radicalization either to the severe socioeconomic problems of
the imperial regime or to the resentment against ethnic inequality, or to both, and have little or
nothing to say about the impact of cultural factors. To be sure, it would be a mistake to
underestimate the impact of social discontents over economic conditions and ethnic inequality, but
so also is the reluctance to admit that it is not enough to explain the infatuation of students and
intellectuals with Marxism-Leninism.
The argument according to which the gravity of social problems solely dictated the turn
toward radicalism is not convincing. It presupposes a type of determinism that amounts to saying:
the more acute and widespread the social problems, the greater is the compulsion for a radical,
earth-shaking change. Yet, though social systems burdened with acute social problems proliferate
in the world, revolutions, especially the kind that Ethiopia went through, are rare occurrences.
Moreover, the assumed determinism contradicts the very theory that students are supposed to have
followed, namely, Marxism. The very backwardness and stagnation of the Ethiopian social system
were nowhere near to requiring socialist solutions to the problems it was facing. Under pain of
throwing away the evolutionary scheme of Marxist philosophy, the socialist ideology cannot be
deduced from structural conditions unfit even for capitalism. The same can be said about ethnic
resentment: except for the Eritrean movement, which was a demand for independence arising from
the assumed illegality of the Ethiopian annexation of Eritrea in 1962, no ethnic movement of any
importance seriously threatened the imperial regime. Moreover, whatever discontent there was,
the rational solution to ethnic inequality lay in the expansion of democratic rights rather than in
the kind of struggle known as national liberation.
In truth, the struggle for elementary rights, such as freedom of expression and organization,
and improvements of conditions of life, could have been enough both to mobilize workers and
peasants and seriously threaten Haile Selassie’s autocratic regime. For instance, the fight for the
right to strike would have given workers a better opportunity to improve their conditions of life
than the nationalization of the means of production. Likewise, mobilization for the creation of
political parties harboring moderate and reformist demands would have shaken up the foundation
of the autocratic regime in a way that a socialist revolution is unable to do.
This huge discrepancy between the real problems of the regime and the brandished socialist
elixir denotes the intervention of something other than a mere search for a feasible remedy,
something that yearned for the satisfaction of a fantasy. Hence the need to involve cultural factors,
which are necessary to provide the incentive for students and intellectuals to become enamored
with the Marxist-Leninist ideology, given the impossibility of deducing it from the objective
conditions of the country. Here an objection comes to mind: What about the argument saying that
the imperial regime was so ridden with deep inner contradictions that it was not amenable to
reformist solutions? The argument overlooks the greater plausibility of the reverse assumption,
which is that the existing system appeared unreformable because of the prior commitment to the
revolutionary theory of Marxism-Leninism. Succinctly put, rather than the features of Ethiopia
being truly impossible to reform, it is the primacy of the revolutionary doctrine that painted them
as unreformable. The ease with which the imperial regime crumbled is proof enough of its
vulnerability. Had a popular reformist party steered the social protests, it would have been possible
to remove some of the structural drawbacks of the social system.
To say that structural conditions are not enough to explain the radical direction of the
revolution does not mean that they are not necessary factors. In effect, many scholars believe that
the economic failures of the regime led to the progressive disillusionment of students and
intellectuals. This disillusionment took a radical turn when in the late 60s and early 70s acute
economic crises affected all sectors of the Ethiopian society, including university graduates, who
suddenly found themselves threatened by unemployment. Thus, one analyst of the student
movement writes, “the prospect of unemployment shattered the aspirations of the younger
generation of the intelligentsia, leading to a rapid spread of radicalism among the students.”2 The
generalized economic crisis reached its peak with soaring inflation when in 1973 OPEC
quadrupled the price of oil. Added to this was the severe famine that hit the northern provinces of
Wolllo and Tigre in 1973: though caused by drought, the famine angered many people because the
imperial government first ignored and then suppressed information about the ongoing starvation.
Dominating all these drawbacks was, of course, the structural disparity between the northern rist
system and the prevalence of tenancy in the south. As we saw, the disparity instituted a system of
unequal treatment between the north and the south that easily converted into ethnic grievances and
backed the theory of the ethnic, even colonial domination of Amhara elites over the southern
peoples. Baptized “the national question,” many intellectuals and students considered the disparity
as the primary contradiction of Ethiopia. In the eyes of many scholars, especially those using the
Marxist methodology, the combination of ethnic discontents with the frustration over the
socioeconomic downturns, and the complete unwillingness of the imperial government to
6 RADICALIZATION OF ETHIOPIAN STUDENTS 73
implement even a modicum of reformist measures, explain, for the most part, the radicalization of
Ethiopian students.
Using an evolutionary approach, Bahru Zewde summarizes the momentum that led to the
radical denouement thus: radicalization stemmed from the “growing impatience with a regime
which was not prepared to reform itself. As the century wore on, the medicine prescribed also grew
in virulence.”3 While the early intellectuals adopted a reformist stand, those of the 60s and early
70s turned revolutionary because the delay of reforms exacerbated the social problems and induced
the belief that the regime was completely reluctant to the idea of even minor reforms. The ever-
growing belief that the regime is dismissive of the idea of even minor reforms prescribed the
necessity of revolution, that is, the complete eradication of the regime by a radical revolutionary
insurrection.
Even though the above arguments look strong, they have yet to answer one important
question. To be sure, the gravity of the problems called for important changes, but does such an
observation really explain the shift of students and intellectuals from the normal course of
reformism to the unorthodox path of radical revolutionism? If the belief is that the severity of the
socioeconomic predicaments required nothing less than a radical change, such a belief prompts
another deeper question, to wit, whether, as suggested above, the problems did not appear to
require radical solutions because of prior ideological convictions rather than the other way round.
All the more reason for asking the question is that the implemented revolutionary solutions have
proved to be not only inadequate but also harmful to the country as a whole. In other words, seeing
the great gap separating reform from revolution, the jump from the one to the other appears more
credible if we say that it occurred as a result of Ethiopian realities being read through a radicalizing
theoretical grid, namely, Marxism-Leninism. The error is to think that the accumulation and
aggravation of social contradictions radicalized the students when in reality the prior adoption of
a radical ideology changed the reading of the problems in such a way that a radical therapy
appeared necessary. Speaking of student publications, Bahru notes, “ideological authenticity or
rectitude takes precedence over historical reality,” and this is so true that the major preoccupation
is not about Ethiopian realities, but about “what Marx, Lenin, and Stalin—particularly the last
two—said.”4 As a result, non-Marxist-Leninist approaches were simply dismissed and facts about
Ethiopia were misconstrued to fit the prior ideological stand of the student movement.
All the defects of the student movement, such as extremism, dogmatism, and unrealism,
point to an activism that a prior ideological conversion propelled. These defects flow from the
effort made to be consistent with the theory, even by falsifying the given reality. An Ethiopian
scholar speaks of the adoption of an abstract position that “was not grounded in the historically
specific contradictions, political traditions, and cultural practices of Ethiopian society.”5 The term
“abstract” does indicate the practice of using Marxism-Leninism as an apriori formula with which
things must agree. The theory did not conform to facts; facts were made to conform to the theory,
that is, they underwent a characteristic reinterpretation that adjusted them to the dictates of the
doctrine. A pertinent case in point is the belief that a party that could guide the revolution, seize
power, and implement proletarian socialism could emerge in a short time, not only from a
precapitalist social system, but also from a country with no prior party system.
A slightly different position of some protagonists of the Leninist version of Marxism argues
that things have so appallingly evolved that it was too late for reformism. The socioeconomic
problems had reached such a level of severity that mere reforms had become inadequate, even for
ordinary people. The contention according to which the time of reformism had passed forgets that
the popular movement that overthrew the imperial regime initially came up with reformist rather
than socialist demands. The idea of socialist revolution came from outside the thinking of common
working people, namely, from students and intellectuals. While most people understood what
reforms meant, the understanding of socialism was limited to the closed circles of Western-
educated Ethiopians. So that, the claim that “liberalism as an alternative ideology did not have a
strong material base and even as an incipient tendency was already discredited” is anything but
factually correct.6 Reformism was discredited, not because it was judged inadequate to existing
conditions, but because it appeared inadequate to students and intellectuals already converted to
Marxism-Leninism. We see here the rejection of an alternative ideology before it was even put to
the test. Clearly, without the mental orientation that interpreted social problems through the lens
of the Marxist-Leninist doctrine, a policy of slow and gradual liberalization would have presented
itself as the commonsense thing to do, even if it would have probably fallen short of expectations.
The Manufactured Nature of Radicalism

Since the primacy of doctrinal commitment strongly suggests that the radical attitude of students
did not directly proceed from the impact of socioeconomic conditions and ethnic grievances, it
calls for an approach that handles radicalism as a construct. The necessity of such an approach
emanates from the simple observation that the great majority of students were in the beginning and
for an extended time either apolitical or professed moderate views. Witness the editorial of March
1965 of Challenge, the Journal of the Ethiopian Students Association in North America,
complained that “Ethiopia’s educated youth, unlike those of other countries, has consistently failed
to address itself to them [social issues].”7 The statement that the aggravation of social crises
gradually radicalized the students would still overlook that the existing conditions did not dictate
Marxist-Leninist prescriptions, not to mention the fact that, contrary to revolutionism, reformism
could have proposed viable solutions. The single argument exposing revolutionism as a construct
is that it proposed disastrous solutions, thereby revealing its inadequacy to the real, objective
conditions of Ethiopia.
Donald L. Donham posits fairly well the problem when he asks: “Why, at the outset, did
a small educated vanguard in Ethiopia become so enamored of the notion of revolution? And why,
in a matter of only months, did virtually all Ethiopian political actors at the center take up
Marxism?”8 The question amounts to asking how radicals evicted moderates and took the
leadership of the student movement. Let there be no misunderstanding: in denying a direct causal
link between the conversion of the student movement to Marxist-Leninist ideology and the
economic conditions and ethnic grievances, I am not implying, as reiterated in the previous
paragraph, that the conditions and the grievances did not play any kind of role. One undeniable
fact is that the imperial regime had given students a lot of reasons both to be frustrated and engage
in recurring protests. What I am rejecting is the thesis according to which the social situation
directly caused the conversion of students to Marxism-Leninism, which, in other words, means
that the theory imposed itself on students and intellectuals as being both the appropriate tool of
analysis and the correct remedy. My theory on the primacy of the doctrinal commitment was
precisely called upon to show that the original disparity between Marxist-Leninist analysis and
prescriptions and the Ethiopian predicaments goes a long way in explaining the drastic failure of
the socialist experiment in Ethiopia. A better way to understand why the theory was adopted so
fervently even though it was inapplicable is to connect the frustrations caused by the imperial
regime with other factors, especially cultural ones.
When considering such factors, the first thing to analyze is the takeover of the leadership
of the student movement by radical groups. It is imperative to realize that the takeover would not
have occurred without a line of communication between the radical groups and the bulk of the
student body. Campus seclusion, youth idealism, spirit of solidarity, and peer influence certainly
aided the rise of radical groups to leadership, but they do not fully explain it. To understand why
most Ethiopian students followed radical groups, one must involve predicaments that created
dissatisfaction or anxiety among the large body of students. In effect, the rising number of dropouts
and unemployed graduates caused deep anxiety among students, which resonated with militant
groups’ condemnation of the entire social system. Without the disquieting impacts of the economic
failures of the regime on the majority of students, the radicals would have naturally pursued their
denunciation of the system, but only as a small minority. The dissatisfaction of the majority
enabled them to reach out by harnessing the crises of the educational sector to their denunciation
of the whole system. Add to this the distressing and indefensible contradiction of the regime
between its ideology of national unity and the disparity and the subsequent unequal treatment
between the northern and southern parts of the country. The radicals could not have found a better
cause to rally most students against the imperial regime, especially those students who came from
southern regions. In fact, the disparity provided the radicals with the battle cry that sealed their
victory over the moderates, namely, the slogan “Land to the Tiller.” Equally decisive was the input
of students from Tigray and Eritrea: owing to the ethnic competition that was customary in
northern Ethiopia, Eritrean and Tigrean students were angered and mobilized by the perception of
Amhara domination. As a result, many Tigreans became fervent activists and some of them rose
to the highest positions of leadership of the student movement.
A no less important link between radicals and the rest of the student body was the
reluctance of the imperial regime to do anything to help moderates retain some influence in the
student movement. The utter refusal to even acknowledge the validity of the students’ grievances
and demands greatly facilitated the seizure by radicals of the leadership of the movement. Worse
yet, instead of responding by some reforms, however mild they may be, to the demands of students,
the government chose the path of violent repression, which further pushed many students into the
hands of the extremists. The repeated violent responses did nothing but convince most students
that the regime was incapable of change. Such a conclusion vindicated the stand and ideology of
radicals, and so eliminated moderation as a viable approach for a great number of students.
Student radicalism is a product of social contradictions, but even more so of the impact of
radical groups, who progressively politicize the majority of students. Ordinary students regularly
complained about corruption, unemployment, the rising costs of living, mismanagement, etc. The
construct, the manufacturing of a radical movement derived from the strategy of a few extremist
activists, which was to bring most students into thinking that these problems cannot go away unless
a socialist government overthrows and replaces the regime. Without the influence of the Marxist
radicals, the social discontent would not have left off the course of moderate demands. An account
of the radicalization of the student movement would, therefore, be incomplete unless it gives some
clarification on the emergence of the small group that is responsible for the adoption of the
extremist course. The manufactured nature of radicalism specifically lies in the effective and
extensive indoctrination of students with the idea that only socialism can resolve all the
socioeconomic problems. In other words, the social issues turned into a radicalizing cause, not by
themselves but, so to speak, via the prior doctrine that the small group of extremists propagated.
This is to say that, with the propagation of the galvanizing idea of socialism by radicals, cultural
factors come into play.
To pose the problem in this manner is to bring out the singularity of radical groups, a feature
whose explanation obviously necessitates the involvement of cultural-psychological factors.
Indeed, what defined the radicals was the eccentricity of their values and beliefs, which eccentricity
at first isolated them from the rest of the student body until lingering social dissatisfactions gave
them the opportunity to cast the social frustration in terms of their cultural eccentricity. To study
the occurrence of revolutions is thus to follow “sparks across national borders, carried by small
groups and idiosyncratic individuals who created an incendiary legacy of ideas.”9 Starting with
small groups with unorthodox beliefs and bent on secrecy and conspiratorial behavior, the idea of
social revolution progressively expands and extends its grip on the students’ protests.
The case of Ethiopia reproduced this general pattern: Ethiopian radicals initially formed
the group nicknamed “Crocodile,” whose characteristics were secrecy, single-mindedness, and
complete devotion to the cause of the revolution. The term “crocodile” precisely expressed “its
underground element, secrecy and, dangerous and unpredictable nature.”10 In full compliance with
the Leninist notion of “professional revolutionaries,” members of the group saw universities not
so much as learning places as forums for political agitation. They were able to prevail over the
moderates because of the nature of the Marxist-Leninist ideology, which advocates neither the
pursuit of compromise nor a wait-and-see attitude. On the contrary, as a radical opposition, it
constantly puts students in a position of confrontation with the hated regime. As such, it appeared
as the only genuine and sincere opposition, as the only political stand determined to achieve
something. In addition to inculcating a combative mood into the student body, Marxism-Leninism
armed students with a clear project (albeit in abstract terms), namely, socialism, and a course of
action, revolution. By contrast, the moderate groups had neither a clear ideology nor any rudiment
of organizational activity. They were for changes, but they did not articulate the nature of these
changes in such a way that they really offered a viable alternative. On top of supplying a powerful
tool of social analysis and change, the utopian inspiration of Marxist socialism filled followers
with a galvanizing sense of mission as no other social theory could. This sense of mission largely
accounts for the boldness of activist students. Where moderates hesitate, radicals are ready to pay
any sacrifice for their cause, including the ultimate sacrifice, and this has a magnetic power over
students.
Uprootedness and Globality

On the basis of the argument that the presence of acute socioeconomic crises is not enough to
radicalize the student body, as shown by the histories of other countries, we defended the need to
involve cultural factors. We presented the primacy of doctrinal commitment and the manufactured
nature of the student movement as proofs of the cultural basis of the radicalization of Ethiopian
students. A complete understanding of the cultural explanation requires that the identified cultural
factors be placed in the context of the time, and this confronts us with the issues of globality and
cultural globalism. The universalist language of both modernization theory and Marxism imparts
the conviction that world history is a single process exhibiting the various stages of realization of
a goal that is inherent in all human societies (see Chapter IV). Since this historical scheme imparts
the belief that the “advanced” stages trace out the future of the “lagging” stages, it foments the
idea that global phenomena necessarily impact local realities. Just as the things that surround us
condition us, so too global phenomena reach us through the induced consciousness of being part
of a unilinear world history. In brief, a global culture is grafted on local cultures as a result of these
cultures being towed by Western universalism.
So defined, globality does no more than aggravate the uprooting effect of the educational
system, which is, as we saw, entirely modeled on that of the West. Many authors have reflected
on the alienating impact of Western education, but very few have actually linked the alienation
with the propensity to espouse radical ideas. Yet, what was taught was so disparaging to Ethiopian
culture and history that it could not but unleash the desire to get rid of everything and start anew.
For that reason, the Ethiopian Westernized elite wanted not just mere change, but a total break
from the past. We saw in Chapter I that a positive process of change reconciles novelty with
tradition, and so achieves continuity. Different is the impact of Western education: in line with the
theoretical construct setting modernity against tradition, it calls for a fundamental rupture with the
past. A quotation taken from Struggle, the journal of the University Students’ Union of Addis
Ababa, puts the matter clearly. It reads:
In our Ethiopian context, the true revolutionary is one who has shattered all sentimental
and ideological ties with feudal Ethiopia. . . . Our rallying points are not a common history,
a feudal boundary, the legendary Solomonic fairy tale, religious institutions, regional
ethnic, linguistic affiliations, but the cause of the oppressed classes, who are the ultimate
makers of history. That is why we are internationalists because the masses have no nation,
no home.11
The outright denigration of the cultural legacy of a particular society and history leads to a
denial of one’s membership in said society. Clearly, some such attitude presupposes the
internalization of the West’s unilinear scheme of history. As we saw, the scheme assigns cultural
differences between peoples to local blockages rather than to identities that developed on particular
lines. It thus characterizes differences as backwardness, while the history of the West is
universalized and turned into a normative reference. Accordingly, one major manifestation of
uprootedness is globality, which denotes a thinking pattern outwardly oriented. When a mind is
bombarded with the idea that norms come from outside, it naturally develops a marked tendency
toward extroversion. Referring to the outward-lookingness of the Ethiopian educated elite
subsequent to the internalization of the normativeness of the West, Addis Hiwet writes: “The
intelligentsia was dynamically marked by globality. The educational system of which it was a
product was its mark of globality, and quite literally.”12
It follows that the polarizing atmosphere of the Cold War and the subsequent struggle for
ideological hegemony between Marxism-Leninism and Western liberalism had a powerful bearing
on Ethiopian students. What many observers have in mind when they assert that Ethiopian students
became Marxists because Marxism was in vogue at that time is, precisely, in keeping with their
sensitivity to global phenomena imparted by the decentering effect of uprootedness. The impact
was all the stronger because it was academic, that is, part of the intellectual formation of Ethiopian
students and intellectuals. The dominance in the 60s and 70s of leftist ideas among the teaching
staff in European and American universities heavily influenced international students and turned
radicalism into the apex of intellectual development. This external source of leftist ideas posits the
existence of a global “intellectual culture of revolution,” which culture has precedence over local
social conditions.13 As a consequence, prior to the evaluation of the appropriateness of Marxist
analysis and therapy, the ideological dictate of the leftist intellectual formation of students and
intellectuals injected radical creeds into the reading of the existing conditions of peripheral
societies. The evidence that Marxism-Leninism owed a great part of its influence to its fashionable
status is the near absence of socialist movements in today’s world. Indeed, the failure of socialism
in Russia and Eastern Europe seems to have broken the spell of Marxist ideology, even for
countries crippled by severe socioeconomic problems.
The point that remains to be explained is why the global orientation of Ethiopian students
brought them to side so forcefully and in great numbers with the socialist camp. For one thing, the
alliance of Haile Selassie’s government with the West compelled Ethiopian students to support the
socialist camp as a matter of doctrinal consistency and practical necessity. For another, the global
ideological fight seemed to favor socialism in the 60s and early 70s, as liberalism appeared to be
on the defensive on various fronts. The war in Vietnam and the large antiwar movement it triggered
in America, the continuous student protests in Europe, Latin America, Asia, and Africa
condemning in unison American imperialism, capitalism, apartheid, neocolonialism, and internal
reaction, etc., seemed to indicate that liberalism was losing ground. Espousing the winning
ideology of socialism was, therefore, nothing less than going with the flow of history.
For Ethiopian students, that history moves in the direction of socialism meant a shift of
normativeness from the West to the East. The Leninist characterization of imperialism as a
decadent, moribund capitalism provided the theoretical basis of the shift. Since capitalism was no
longer the driving force of history, socialist countries were promoted to the rank of torchbearers
of progress for lagging countries. And no other theory consistently implements the fundamental
principle of modernization theory, namely, the opposition between tradition and modernity, than
the revolutionary theory of Marxism-Leninism. The latter is the true, authentic expression of
modernization theory, unlike Western liberalism, which goes against its own principles to support
backward regimes like that of Haile Selassie.
Imitativeness and Elitism

While underlining the necessity of the release of creativity, we saw that modernization theorists
paradoxically advocate the West as a model, and so reduce culture change to the assimilation of
Western values and institutions through an imported educational system. In so doing, they
encourage, not the learning of self-reliance, but of dependency and imitation. Imitativeness blocks
self-reliance and, hence, the nurture of innovative capacity. It cannot even produce good copyists,
since the Western depiction of cultural difference as backwardness erodes self-respect and self-
confidence, thereby depriving people of the qualities and virtues necessary to reproduce the model.
Denouncing the effect of black peoples’ internalization of inferiority, Edward W. Blyden says:
“bound to move on a lower level, they [black peoples] acquire and retain a practical inferiority,
transcribing, very often, the faults rather than the virtues of their models.14 A good example of this
is the fate of the word “democracy” in Africa and elsewhere in Third World countries. Even though
Third World political elites profusely promise democracy to their people, they rarely deliver it,
and when they make an effort to do so, they only succeed in installing a caricature of democracy.
Imitation must be distinguished from inspiration: the former inculcates passivity and self-
depreciation; the latter is a stimulation urging to be as achieving as the model, even to surpass it.
Stimulation is not about copying; it is an encouragement to strike a new course. As such, it invites
one to add a difference, that is, to be creative. On the other hand, the tendency to repeat what
already exists derives from the presentation of the West as a model rather than as a stimulus. The
description of non-Western countries as lagging behind the West, how else could it define
modernization but as the process of catching up with the West? The definition does no more than
perpetuate the creative and leading role of the West, since the one who has to catch up is the one
who always remains behind. A pertinent example illustrating the difference between imitation and
inspiration is Mao Tse-tung’s relationship with Marxism. For Mao, Marxism was just an
inspiration, an encouragement to use the theory by adapting it to Chinese peculiarities. Otherwise,
he says,
talk about Marxism apart from China’s characteristics, that will be only Marxism in the
abstract, Marxism in the void. Hence how to turn Marxism into something specifically
Chinese, to imbue every manifestation of it with Chinese characteristics, i.e. to apply it in
accordance with China’s characteristics, becomes a problem which the whole Party must
understand and solve immediately.15
Such was not the path taken by Ethiopian students: their subservient mentality went straight
to imitation. Their inability to adapt, to synthesize Marxism-Leninism with Ethiopian realities, in
a word, their failure to be creative drove them to champion an uncritical and dogmatic
implementation of the theory. Since their mental dependency prompted them to make reality
conformable to the imperatives of the dominant ideology rather than to adopt the ideology to a
concrete and particular reality, it unleashed “revolutionary romanticism” together with a tendency
to be satisfied with “a crude and superficial digest of Marxist-Leninist ideas.”16 Indeed, because
the theory is given a normative function rather than an analytical one, it does not set limits and
conditions, and so fosters utopianism. Similarly, the imitative mind does not need to have a
sophisticated understanding of the theory, since reality must conform to the theory rather than vice
versa. Imitativeness does not analyze; instead, it attempts to subsume reality under alien normative
concepts. In so doing, it produces a tendency to infatuation, for the simple reason that concepts are
handled as incantatory formulas, not as tools of knowledge.
Another downside of the dependency on imported external norms is the elitist mentality.
The debasing of the cultural heritage creates an unbridgeable generational gap: what was
traditional and old being identified with backwardness and reaction, whatever appears as Western
and revolutionary acquires absolute value, often independently of real merits. Perceived as living
fossils, the old lose the authority necessary to transmit the cultural heritage, while school children
turn into “more sophisticated and infallible ‘semi-gods.’”17 The loss affects every level of the
social hierarchy, including parental authority. It also extends to religious beliefs, with the
consequence that the profession of militant atheism becomes a sine qua non of revolutionism. This
narcissistic tendency of the educated elite stems from the extremely overrated value given to
modern education by the very scheme of modernization theory.
As a result, Western-educated persons—those who would pull Ethiopia out of
backwardness—“enjoyed unquestioned prestige.”18 The status of enlighteners and liberators
entitled the Ethiopian educated elite to unrivaled political leadership in the very eyes of ordinary
people. By taking on the task of modernizing a backward society, the Westernized elite, as
mentioned earlier, was willy-nilly adopting the colonial model of “civilizing mission.”
Modernization is not about letting people act, decide, choose, and plan; it is about a self-appointed
tutor acting, choosing, and planning on behalf of unenlightened people. One editorial of Challenge
writes, “The task of awakening our country from her age-old slumber and liberating our people
from the iron grip of remorseless tyranny falls on our shoulders.”19 Is it surprising if, wherever it
came to power, as in Ethiopia, this narcissistic self-perception produced totalitarian states under the
cover of laying the ground for progress and democracy?
The elitist belief that those who know, those who have liberated themselves from ignorance
and reaction, have the duty to liberate the masses, triggered an “over-eagerness to be a protagonist
in revolutionary struggle on behalf of the masses rather than with them.”20 No notion could be
more attractive to this state of mind than the Leninist idea of “professional revolutionaries.” Lenin
makes the realization of socialism essentially dependent on the formation of a party composed of
“a select, highly disciplined, and ‘theoretical’ cadre of professional revolutionaries.” 21 Strongly
rejecting the rise of an independent ideology among workers, Lenin writes: “We must actively
take up the political education of the working class, and the development of its political
consciousness.”22 For Leninism, then, revolutionary intellectuals are not mere representatives of
the working masses; they are also their indispensable tutors (in the colonial sense) in that they
educate workers by raising their revolutionary consciousness. In so doing, they also decide what
their long-term interests should be.
In Ethiopia, having inherited the narcissistic self-perception of the student movement, the
two regimes that came after the imperial rule thought and acted as expected. Not only did they fail
to disengage from the dictatorial path, but they also implemented a top-down policy of
modernization that forced Ethiopians into passivity and resignation. The outcome was and still is
the reluctance of Ethiopians to pour vitality and enthusiasm into the social process of
modernization. Insofar as ordinary people do not recognize themselves in this exogenous process,
their aloofness is actually a normal reaction. As to the liberators, after a start somewhat consistent
with their promises of change, their revolutionary zeal soon lost momentum. In its place, the drama
of political antagonism targeting absolute power through the sheer elimination of all would-be
rivals came into force. The next chapter will elaborate on the degeneration of the revolutionary
spirit into an obsession with absolute power, as it manifested first with the rise and consolidation
of the Derg.
1
Ali A. Mazrui, Political Values and the Educated Class in Africa (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1978),
262.
2
Kiflu Tadesse, The Generation, The History of the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Party (Silver Spring: The
Independent Publishers, 1993), 29.
3
Bahru Zewde, “The Intellectual and the State in Twentieth Century Ethiopia,” in New Trends in Ethiopian Studies:
Papers of the 12th International Conference of Ethiopian Studies, vol. 1 (Lawrenceville, N.J.: The Red Sea Press, Inc.,
1994), 490.
4
Ibid., 489.
5
Tesfaye Demmellash, “On Marxism and Ethiopian Student Radicalism in North America,” Monthly Review 35
(1984): 28.
6
Gebru Mersha, “The Emergence of the Ethiopian ‘Left’ in the Period 1960-1970 as an Aspect of the Formation of
the ‘Organic Intellectuals,’” in The Ethiopian Revolution and its Impact on the Politics on the Horn of Africa:
Proceedings, 2nd International Conference on the Horn of Africa (New York: New School for Social Research, 1987),
71.
7
Melesse Ayalew, “Editorial,” Challenge 5, no. 1(1965): 1.
8
Donald L. Donham, Marxist Modern: An Ethnographic History of the Ethiopian Revolution (Berkeley: University
of California Press, 1999), xix.
9
James H. Billington, Fire in the Minds of Men: Origins of the Revolutionary Faith (New York: Basic Books, Inc.,
1980), 7.
10
Randi Rønning Balsvik, Haile Selassie’s Students: The Intellectual and Social Background to Revolution, 1952-
1977(East Lansing, MI.: Michigan State University, 1985), 118.
11
Editorial, Struggle, 5: 2 (November 1969), 1.
12
Addis Hiwet “A Certain Political Vocation: Reflections on the Ethiopian Intelligentsia,” The Ethiopian Revolution
and its Impact on the Politics on the Horn of Africa, Proceedings of the 2nd International Conference on the Horn of
Africa (New York: New School for Social Research, 1987), 49.
13
Forrest D. Colburn, The Vogue of Revolution in Poor Countries (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), 14.
14
Edward W. Blyden, Christianity, Islam and the Negro Race (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1967), 76.
15
Mao Tse-tung, “The Role of the Chinese Communist Party in the National War,” in Selected Works, vol. 2 (New
York: International Publishers, 1954), 260.
16
Gebru, “The Emergence of the Ethiopian ‘Left’ in the Period 1960-1970 as an Aspect of the Formation of the
‘Organic Intellectuals,’” 81-83
17
Tekeste Negash, The Crisis of Ethiopian Education: Some Implications for Nation-Building (Uppsala, Sweden:
Uppsala University, 1990), p.54.
18
Donald L. Donham, Marxist Modern: An Ethnographic History of the Ethiopian Revolution, 25.
19
“Editorial: The Spirit of Solidarity,” Challenge 6, no. 1 (1966): 2.
20
Tesfaye Demmellash, “On Marxism and Ethiopian Student Radicalism in North America,”: 36.
21
Walter Carlsnaes, The Concept of Ideology and Political Analysis (Westport, Co.: Greenwood Press, 1981), 112.
22
V. I. Lenin, What Is to be Done? (New York: International Publishers, 1929), 57.
Chapter VII
The Overthrow of the Imperial Regime
In distinction to the tendency of imputing the delay of Ethiopian modernization to the lack of social
peace, which was used as a pretext to institute and justify imperial absolutism, the radicalization
of students, in line with the unadulterated principle “modernity versus tradition, blamed the
presence of traditional features, notably the impeding role of the “feudal” class, the anachronism
of the imperial state, and the obscurantist influence of the church, for the general failure of
Ethiopian modernization. The students’ standpoint assumed the ideological leadership of the social
protests and spread the conviction that Marxist-Leninist socialism is the only remedy to put
Ethiopia back on the track of rapid modernization. The equation of modernization with socialism
became all the more compelling as the theory consistently denounced the stifling and economically
crippling impact of imperialism on developing countries. The choice of socialism as the only
solution, in addition to underpinning the opposition between modernity and tradition, shifted the
model to follow from the West to socialist countries, in particular to the then Soviet Union.
On some Necessary Distinctions
To explain the removal of the imperial regime is (1) to analyze the reasons that caused wide social
upheavals and (2) to elucidate the rapid and thorough overthrow of a long-lived regime that looked
secure. Moreover, the consensus characterizing the overthrow as a revolution must pay attention
to two distinct phases: a first short and moderate phase and a second more radical phase. Even
though there is a clear continuity between the two phases, the second phase, which commenced
with the rise of Mengistu Haile Mariam and other leftist members to the leadership of the Derg, is
qualitatively distinct both in terms of depth of changes and consequences. The distinction between
the two phases is important to avoid confusion between the causes of Haile Selassie’s downfall
and the auxiliary and adventitious dynamics that led to the second radical phase. A third point is
that the student movement succeeded in radicalizing a large part of the Westernized educated elite,
but failed to produce leaders able to seize power. Instead, a military committee known as the Derg
first seized power, and then appropriated the ideology of the students and implemented a socialist
program adapted to its needs.
Theoreticians often appeal to the distinction between the structural causes of revolutions
and accelerators. Structural factors refer to the deep-seated and enduring causes of revolutions,
which are all consequences of a prolonged lack of reforms, like persistent economic stagnation or
the political dominance of a retrogressive class. Accelerators are immediate precipitating events
and, as such, “are discrete events and they occur at specific points in time.”1 Among the
accelerators, we find such occurrences as military defeat, a sudden severe and widespread
economic crisis due to a natural disaster or an inflationary burst, a sharpening of conflicts within
the ruling class, etc. The structural factors indicate not only why a regime is overthrown, but also
84 ETHIOPIAN MODERNIZATION: OPPORTUNIES AND DERAILMENTS
why it became vulnerable to accelerating factors. Circumstantial setbacks can paralyze a regime
only when long-standing contradictions weaken it.
The structural causes emanate from Haile Selassie’s implementation of a modernizing
program that was exclusively designed to expand and sustain his autocratic rule. The narrow limits
of autocracy could not but block expectations, thereby causing a generalized discontent, especially
among the rising educated elite. As a rule, the general context of the modern world persistently
highlights the unfitness of societies that pursue a selected and limited modernization program. The
blockage of political modernization is the method that traditional ruling elites often use to limit
the penetration of modernization and protect their interests and privileges. The consequence is that
the blockage creates a characteristic disjunction between components of the social system that are
supposed to work in harmony. Some such disjunction naturally puts a severe brake on economic
progress and social advancement. Accordingly, “the most fertile ground for revolution is found in
‘societies which have experienced some social and economic development and where the
processes of political modernization and political development have lagged behind the processes
of social and economic change.”2 In particular, the conflict between modern sectors managed by
Western-educated natives and political institutions that traditional forces largely control mutates
toward an increasingly acute fracture, thereby raising the likelihood of revolutionary uprisings.
The condition of revolutionary movements is thus not the economic deficit per se, but the
perception that institutions designed to protect the interests of outdated elites are blocking changes
and social advancement. The blockage ignites and spreads the psychological state of frustration,
which in turn breeds the revolutionary mood. Indeed, according to the theory of relative
deprivation, the main catalyst of revolutionary social movements is the “cognitive state of
‘frustration’ or ‘deprivation’ relative to some set of goals.”3 When people do not get what they
expect or what they were promised, they experience frustration, and so become angry and
susceptible to violent protests. Notably, the political blockage impacts negatively on the possibility
of social mobility, which further vexes the expectation of rising groups to be incorporated into the
elite class. Hence the following definition of revolution: it is “a method of unclogging the channels
of social mobility.”4
Here, a reminder is in order. In previous chapters, we indicated that the term “derailment”
is more appropriate to describe the failure of Ethiopian modernization than terms like “obstacle”
and “blockage.” Three reasons buttress the appropriateness of the term “derailment.” First, as
shown in previous chapters, Ethiopian traditions cannot be categorized as wholly inimical to
modernization. Second, the failure seems to repeat the same downward trend, since successive
regimes proved unable to disengage from it despite their awareness of the problems. In repeating
the same mistakes that they swore to avoid or remove, what else are these regimes confirming but
their inability to reverse the off-course current that carries them along? Third, Haile Selassie did
not use traditional forces to block modernization; rather, it altered them in such a way as to turn
them into accomplices of his untraditional imperial autocracy. That is why, instead of obstacle or
hindrance, this study opted for terms like derailment, deflection, and diversion, to convey the
momentum of a resurrecting trend born of the alterations to tradition.
I grant that the consequences of derailment can be coined in terms of blockages, but with
the understanding that they are effects, not causes. The cause is the derailment, that is, the
deliberate subordination of modern features to the political goal of absolutism. Deflection does
more than hinder or obstruct; it enables in that it makes possible what the mere preservation and
opposition of tradition could not accomplish. At the same time, depriving modernization of the
necessary accompaniments, like a suitable political framework, naturally holds back economic and
7 THE OVERTHROW OF THE IMPERIAL REGIME 85
social advancements, and so ignites a growing state of frustration among rising elites as well as
among working people.
In sum, both the restrictions on social mobility and the lethargic state of the economy are
outcomes of the hijacking of modernization, that is, of the use of some modern means and
institutions, such as modern schooling, bureaucracy, standing army, centralization, ministerial
form of government, to enhance and protect a longing that is not modern. The sidelining of civil
liberties, the use of repressive methods, the predominance of ascription over achievement, etc.,
testify to the lack of a genuine modernizing inspiration. The lack brings us back to what we said
regarding the role of culture in Chapter I, in particular to the attribution of the failure to modernize
to the shunning of culture change, a phenomenon typically expressive of traditionalism or the path
of articulation between traditional and modern elements. This study goes further than articulation,
which still thinks in terms of traditional elements obstructing modernization, by using terms
expressing an active doing like deflection and hijacking, that is, a rerouting toward a non-modern
goal. In other words, the goal of autocracy that was behind Haile Selassie’s modernizing changes
denotes the appropriation of modern means by a mind that remained unchanged, a mind that did
not therefore undergo an alteration of its values and beliefs in a direction suitable to an appropriate
use of modern means. Needless to say, Haile Selassie was not alone in bypassing culture change;
most high officials and people composing the class of nobility were in the same condition. The
sluggish economic development, the severe restriction on social mobility, and the inconsistent
policy of southern tenancy are all products of rerouting, that is, of the subjugation of modern
elements to an unchanged culture. Designed to protect outdated or, more specifically, discrepant
privileges against the nascent society of merit, the deflection backfired into wide social discontent
and finally into revolution.
Deflected Modernization
The imperial diversion was most upsetting because it went against the traditional attachment to
social mobility. Its ethnic dimension was even more frustrating as the imperial system seemed to
be heavily biased toward the protection of an all-round hegemony of Amhara ruling elite. Indeed,
we saw that traditional Ethiopia had survived for so long because the channels of social mobility
were open so that ambitious and talented individuals were able to rise to leadership positions. With
the consolidation of Haile Selassie’s autocracy, the channels of social mobility narrowed
considerably: the Showan nobility disproportionally dominated the political and economic
establishments and any position of authority in Ethiopia was just a delegation of imperial power.
Moreover, even though the opening of modern education allowed some mobility to educated and
ambitious people of humble origins as well as to some people of non-Amhara provenances, the
system did not allow their integration into the elite structure. Notably, non-Amhara people could
not hope to climb the social ladder unless they fully acculturated into the dominant Amhara culture.
In short, the renewal of elites was severely curtailed so that the ruling elite, acting as a closed caste,
dominated the political and economic systems and, through this domination, prevented the
implementation of necessary reforms.
An objection comes to mind: Is not this emphasis on social mobility and the subsequent
competition between the old class and rising educated elites too restricted to explain a process as
complex and broad as a social revolution? Does it not downplay the discontents of the working
masses, all the more so as there is no social movement and, hence, no revolution without them?
Sure enough, large social uprisings are necessary, but they are not enough to bring down a regime,
and even less to replace it with a revolutionary one. Only when rival elites competing for power
tap into popular discontents and uprisings do revolutionary situations emerge. In addition to
weakening the state from the inside, rival elites bring two indispensable elements to change
insurrections into revolutionary movements, namely, the vision of an alternative social order and
the requisite leadership.
When an old ruling elite retains and uses political power to defend its interests against
rising elites, the first victim is the economy. The protection of privileges hinders the realization of
even modicum reforms as well as the implementation of efficient and productive methods in the
economic sector. To be sure, the nobility and high bureaucrats would like to increase their incomes
by adopting efficient methods. The state, too, would like to boost its revenues so as to keep its vast
repressive power and bureaucratic apparatuses satisfied. But none of these wishes can come true,
as the protection of privileges prevents the reforms necessary to increase production. Thus,
regarding the land tenure system, not only did the imperial autocracy preserve outdated rights, but
it also added new privileges associated with the enforcement of tenancy to secure the support of
the nobility and high state officials, thereby diverting the modernization of the vast agrarian sector
toward a landholding system that mimicked some feudal aspects, while also expanding
privatization. I say “mimicked” because the imperial transformation of gult rights into private
possessions of land, while it gave nobles and high officials a feudal stature, conflicted with the
simultaneous tight centralization of power. By countering the fragmentation of power, which is
one of the defining attributes of feudalism, and instituting privatization, the imperial
transformation gave birth to a hybrid system.
The reason why the much-needed land reform was postponed several times flowed from
the need to safeguard and increase privileges. A commercial or industrial class increases its income
using efficient means, not by the amount of land it controls. Not so with a “feudal” class: as the
improvement of productivity requires the use of technology and modern methods of work that the
class resents, the protection and increase of its wealth depend exclusively on the expansion of land
ownership and the increment of its exploitative ties to the tenants. What happened under the
imperial rule is well summarized in this general presentation of the methods of landed classes:
The landed upper class inevitably develops some set of special land tenure privileges
denied the rest of the population. The privileges may involve control of land through
conquest, extortion or theft by a militarily dominant elite, systems of special land
concession granted to metropolitan nationals in colonial dependencies, and systems of
ethnic stratification which exclude most of the population from any access to the political
and legal institutions controlling the ownership of property.5
The possession of tenure privileges through the control of conquered lands and the attendant
systems of ethnic stratification perfectly describe the Ethiopian case.
Because its economic success depends on the competitive rules of the free market, the
industrial or commercial class is categorically opposed to political restrictions. The reliance on the
free market establishes its need for a free labor force, that is, for a relationship with the laboring
class that is based on economic ties promising jobs and better wages rather than on political
coercion. Different is the need of the “feudal” class: not only does it restrict market forces by the
institution of land ownership privileges, but it also needs a subjugated or servile labor, given that
the extraction of its income depends, not on increased productivity, but on the laboring class being
deprived of rights, such as the rights of mobility, ownership, organization, and expression of
discontents. Since the landed class draws its income from subjugation rather than from improved
productivity, the system requires extensive use of the repressive power of the state. As previously
said, this requirement sealed the agreement between the imperial state and the landed class in
Ethiopia: in exchange for the protection of tenure privileges, the landed class recognized the
absolute power of the emperor. In other words, the vast rural sector was shielded from the invasion
of modern forces with the drastic consequence that economic growth was sacrificed on the altar of
outdated privileges and unlimited personal power.
In sectors other than the rural sector, the consensus among scholars admits that some
development has taken place in the fields of transportation, power production, and manufacturing.
Thus, according to Assefa Bequele and Eshetu Chole, “transport and communications have
expanded at a satisfactory rate of 9.2 percent per annum between 1961 and 1965,” while power
production “grew at a rate of 18 percent a year since 1965.”6 Equally noticeable was the rate of
growth in manufacturing:
The bulk of the increase in industrial production, about 75 percent of the value added, came
from textile and food industries. Manufacturing is mostly concentrated in import
substituting industries engaged in the production of sugar, cement, oil, textiles and the like.
This period, 1961-1965, also witnessed increases in the production of handicraft and small
scale industries where production increased at a rate of 7 percent.7
Sadly, a major flaw tarnished this somewhat rosy picture: despite a noticeable increase of products
from commercial farms, the stagnation of the vast rural sector and of the overall system of income
distribution significantly slowed down the rate of economic growth. For example, in his study of
the pattern of income distribution from 1960 to 1974, Robert S. Love shows a widening
distribution gap despite some steady but unremarkable economic growth. Thus, concerning urban
areas, scarce available data show that “average annual earnings per employee in manufacturing
industry did not grow as fast as did gross output per employee.”8 Both in the public and private
sectors, the general picture is that the lower strata of society did not benefit at all from the meager
economic growth that took place. As emphasized by theories of revolution, nothing is more
conducive to an outburst of frustration than the belief that the system of distribution is deliberately
skewed in favor of the rich and the powerful. Add to this unjust income distribution the fact that
the growth was not fast enough to absorb new graduates from high schools, universities, and
technical colleges, and you have all the ingredients for politicization and the explosion of
uprisings. Moreover, the repressive nature of the regime prevented people working in urban sectors
from presenting demands in an organized manner, just as it did not allow them to be politically
represented owing to the ban on political parties. There was really no other way for people to
protest and demand justice than through a generalized uprising.
Fragility of Autocracy
The truth about imperial regimes is their extreme vulnerability to revolutionary uprisings. On the
strength that no consolidated democratic regimes have ever been overthrown, even when they
faced severe economic crises, scholars tend to consider democracy as a bulwark against revolution.
The reason is that “democracy ‘translates’ and channels a variety of social conflicts—including,
but not limited, to class conflicts—into party competition for votes and the lobbying of
representatives by ‘interest groups.’”9 In so doing, it makes the recourse to revolution unnecessary,
as opposing parties hope to peacefully defeat the contested government in future elections.
Moreover, in a system that allows the right to organize and demonstrate, people have been able to
“win important concessions from economic and political elites.”10 Whereas in open and
decentralized societies, protests and opposition can obtain changes without seeking to topple the
government, in autocratic regimes, the problem of change is presented in terms of all-or-nothing,
and so make any change conditional on the violent overthrow of the ruling class.
Another important reason why democracy dramatically reduces the likelihood of
revolution is that it prevents the rise of conditions empowering radicalized groups. Besides
institutionalizing social conflicts into peaceful competitions between political parties, democracy
tends to “isolate and render ineffective radical revolutionary challengers.”11 In democratic
societies, moderate elements tend to retain the leadership of social protests to the detriment of
radical groups. By contrast, a repressive regime weakens or eliminates moderation so that social
protests easily come under the influence of professional and radical revolutionaries. What is more,
the use of repressive policy radicalizes many segments of society, especially intellectuals and
students. Apart from empowering radical groups, the frequent use of violent repression makes the
state highly dependent on its repressive forces, especially on the military. This increasing reliance
on the military does no more than make the state vulnerable to a coup.
The above characteristics and vulnerability of autocratic regimes were also those of
Ethiopia’s imperial regime. Like all dynastic states, Haile Selassie’s rule looked strong, stable, and
well-defended, so much so that nobody predicted the imminence of revolution. Yet, the regime
collapsed quickly and easily, so easily that some authors seriously maintain that it was overthrown
by students. Only the intrinsic fragility of the regime can explain its sudden and rapid collapse.
The refusal to implement necessary reforms, the increasing reliance on repression to silence
civilian discontents, with its potential radicalizing consequence, and the use of military forces to
put down guerrilla insurgencies in Eritrea and other parts of the country combined to produce the
fragility of the imperial regime. Rather than the strength of the opposition, this internal inability to
tackle the mounting problems with adequate solutions explains the ease with which Haile
Selassie’s regime was overthrown.
The emperor’s increased use of repressive forces actually reflected the growing
disenchantment of a large number of Ethiopians with his modernizing will. He rose to absolute
power on account of his promise to modernize the country at a time when Ethiopia, encircled by
colonial forces, could no longer continue to trust the conservative stand of the anti-modernist
section of the nobility. To counter the staunch resistance of anti-modernist forces, Haile Selassie
underlined the need for a central government strong enough to impose modernization.
Centralization, the creation of a bureaucratic system of government, the establishment of a
professional army, and the support of some European countries gave Haile Selassie the means to
achieve supremacy over the traditional nobility. However, once supremacy was achieved, he
followed a path that was little supportive of modernization. Instead of intensifying and deepening
modernizing reforms, he shifted toward the establishment and consolidation of a system of solitary
and autocratic exercise of power. Additionally, to secure the support of the landed nobility for his
absolutism, he pledged to protect and even enhance its interests and privileges. In short, as already
said, modernization was sacrificed on the altar of imperial absolutism.
This contradiction between Haile Selassie’s persona of a modernizer and his actual
performance naturally led to the progressive loss of his legitimacy. As it became clear that the
imperial protection of outdated privileges was curtailing the modernization of the country, growing
elements in the modern sector, especially students, intellectuals, and some junior officers in the
armed forces, began to voice their opposition. When a discrepancy occurs between the promises
and the actual reality, “existing authorities lose their legitimacy and have to rely more and more
upon coercion to maintain order. Yet they can do this successfully only for a while,” says one
author.12 Consider the protest against the land ownership system: it had huge repercussions because
it showed a glaring conflict between the official value system of imperial Ethiopia and the social
reality. One defining feature of Haile Selassie’s regime was its commitment to nation-building
through the integration and equal treatment of the various ethnic groups. This ideology of national
integration conflicted with the preservation of tenancy in the south and the overwhelming
dominance of the Amhara elite, especially of the Showa region, in all sectors of social life. The
discrepancy presented the regime as inconsistent, deceptive, and even cynical. Once this level of
disenchantment with the regime is reached, precipitating factors find a fertile ground to hasten its
downfall.
Precipitating Factors
The structural contradictions of Haile Selassie’s regime, however acute they may have been, would
not have led to its overthrow in the manner and timing it happened without the intervention of
precipitating factors. The society would have probably stomached these contradictions a few more
years “if conjunctural factors, each affecting the others, had not triggered off a crisis that was made
insoluble by the weakness and divisions of the authorities, thus opening up a vacuum that the army
was to fill in the end.”13
As previously mentioned, chief among these precipitating factors was a sharp deterioration
of the conditions of life, especially in urban centers, due to a severe inflationary pressure. The
inflationary pressure that gravely affected urban conditions of life in Ethiopia was a direct
consequence of the 1973 Arab-Israeli conflict. As a result of the closing of the Suez Canal and
OPEC’s decision to quadruple the price of oil, the value of imported goods rose dramatically in
Ethiopia. To alleviate the financial crisis caused by the purchase of expensive oil, the government
doubled the local cost of oil. The new price provoked a strike of taxi drivers in Addis Ababa.
University and high school students joined the protest shortly after. The protest further expanded
to include factory workers and government employees in and around Addis Ababa. Interestingly,
during the protests of high school students against rising prices, “for once the police did not
interfere. Themselves victims of the price rises, they stood passively.”14
The widening protest obtained some results: the government lowered the price of cereals
and bus fares; it also revised and reduced by ten cents the price of oil. But, far from abating, the
protest intensified as more and more workers joined the movement. Still, however widespread the
civilian protest had become, it would not have been a serious threat to the regime, were it not for
the fact that agitations had also spread in the Armed Forces. The deterioration of conditions of life
following the increase in the price of oil and the seemingly unending guerrilla war in Eritrea had
multiplied dissatisfactions among the rank and file of the armed forces. These discontents led to
various mutinies: for instance, revolts erupted in the Fourth Army Division in the town of Negale
and Dolo on the 12 of January 1974 and in the Second Division in Asmara on February 26.
It is important to keep in mind that the military and civilian protests triggered by the
economic crisis rapidly spread and developed into a rebellious movement because they occurred
in a social context in which the loss of legitimacy had already undermined the authority of the
imperial state. As a matter of fact, an important factor that was conducive to a sharp decline of the
imperial authority was the manner the government handled the 1972-73 severe famine in the Wollo
province and in some parts of Tigray. Though a natural drought caused the disaster, the
government’s attempt to cover up the famine—forcefully exposed by students—infuriated a
growing number of people. Another proof of the depreciation of imperial legitimacy was the
protest over the 1971 government’s plan to reorganize education in Ethiopia. Known as “The
Education Sector Review,” the document provoked outcries: teachers, soon joined by university
and high school students, led the protest demanding the suspension of a plan proposing nothing
less than a reduction of enrollment, notably in higher educational institutes. Despite the fact that
the proposal contained some positive recommendations, such as the emphasis on practical
education—as opposed to purely academic teaching—through the expansion of technical
education, most people saw the plan as an attempt to block the path of higher education to students
of poor families. To the extent that the plan conflicted with Haile Selassie’s reputation as a
champion of modern education, it further eroded his authority.
Many authors have included senility as one of the precipitating factors for Haile Selassie’s
downfall. For instance, Andargachew Tiruneh writes that he “had become too old and senile to
employ even his old skills effectively.”15 The old age of the emperor impacted political
developments in two ways. First, it deprived the emperor of the necessary strength to vigorously
defend his regime against mounting civilian and military protests. Second, with the designated heir
being incapacitated by a stroke, it created uncertainty that encouraged factional conflicts within
the ruling class. The drawback of old age must be assessed in connection with the mode of
operation of autocratic regimes. Unlike political systems based on the workings of institutions, an
autocratic regime becomes paralyzed when the leader appears weakened. Since the autocratic ruler
decides everything, his entourage is unable to make the necessary decisions, even when
circumstances require them. So that, Haile Selassie’s hesitations in dealing with the military and
civilian unrests have undoubtedly crippled the top echelon of the government, and so contributed
to the breakdown of the state, especially of the military chain of command.
The hesitations of Haile Selassie further aggravated the already bubbling internal division
within the ruling class. As one scholar said, “revolution frequently reaches its climatic stage in a
period marked not by rigid, unyielding absolutism, but by concessions, divisions, and indecision
on the part of those in power.”16 Unsurprisingly, the division in Ethiopia was between the camp of
the conservatives and the camp of “reformists,” mostly represented by the top bureaucrats of the
regime. Confronted with growing unrests, the aristocratic camp defended a conservative policy
and advocated a repressive response to reinstate law and order. Contrarily, the camp of the
bureaucrats, led by Aklilu Habte Wold, the then Prime Minister, favored the implementation of
some reforms. The point is that internal disagreements over how to resolve the ongoing crisis, in
addition to intensifying already existing rivalries between factions, had the characteristic effect of
creating confusion and indecision. This state of affairs weakened the government and its repressive
apparatus and opened the door for the intervention of the military.
Ethiopia at a Crossroad
Escalating uprisings in military camps and urban areas coupled with the indecisiveness of the
government generated a situation cornering Ethiopia into making choices vital for its future. Three
possibilities were presented: (1) the rise of a reformist group from within the ruling class; (2) a
classical military coup by senior officers; and (3) the empowerment of a new ruling elite from
outside the government representing a coalition of the various groups calling for change. What all
these possibilities had in common was their advocacy for a moderate, reformist path, even if the
occurrence of a military coup would have excluded the liberal type of reformism. The fourth
possibility of a successful conservative reaction did not appear realistic, given that the repressive
forces of the state had clearly sided with the protesters. In other words, change was inevitable, but
there was uncertainty about the group that would be empowered to lead the change.
The surprise here is that none of the three possibilities materialized, more exactly translated
into a lasting option. The reformist alternatives were quickly sidelined and, after some uncertainty,
the military rebellion took an unexpected course that drifted away from the path of moderation.
The group responsible for the change is an elected military committee known as the Derg:
composed of 120 members comprising junior officers, non-commissioned, and enlisted soldiers,
the committee, after heated debates that lasted some months over the right direction for the country,
came up with a socialist program, the very one advocated by the student movement, and managed
to obtain the support of the rank and file of the armed forces for the implementation of the proposed
program. Since the radicalization of the Derg proposed socialism as the sole remedy to the social
problems, there occurred a momentous turn of events, namely, the convergence of the rebellious
military with the highly vocal leftist civilian movement. Thanks to this convergence, the call of
the student movement for a socialist revolution had finally and unexpectedly found the
organizational and material force capable of implementing it.
Let it be said immediately that the design and execution of a reformist policy would have
better corrected the botched modernization of Ethiopia than a drift toward a radical form of
socialism. The reason is obvious: whereas reformism attempts to correct the flaws and deviations
of the imperial system so as to put the country back on the right track of incremental modernization,
the requirement of socialism for a clean slate deemed necessary to build everything anew is nothing
but a replay, in a much radicalized and destructive form, of the basic premise of modernization
theory opposing tradition to modernity. Indeed, why would one consider socialism as the best
remedy if not for the uncompromising determination with which it will wipe out both the remnants
of past legacies and the imperial regime? As suggested earlier, one of the attractions of Marxism-
Leninism is that it appears as the most consistent and consequential implementation of the very
principle of modernization theory. Once it is admitted that Ethiopia’s drive toward modernization
failed because the cleanup of obstacles inherited from the past was not drastically carried through,
it becomes difficult to resist the spell of Marxism-Leninism. The absolutism of the imperial
system, the privileges of the nobility and high bureaucrats, the obscurantist influence of the church,
the unequal treatment of the southern peoples, etc., are all past and anti-modern features co-opted
into the modernization process where they act as derailing factors. In unison with the civilian left,
the radicalized faction of the military said that Ethiopia needs a radical cleanup, not a patching up
of the old.
As argued in the previous chapter, Ethiopia’s Westernized education was a major catalyst
for the infatuation of young officers and the civilian left with Marxism-Leninism. The opposition
between tradition and modernity as well as the uprooting effect of a Westernized education could
not find a more consistent application than via the conversion and commitment to the Marxist-
Leninist ideology. Through their moderation and compromising policies, liberal and moderate
politicians and scholars fail to be consistent with the principles they are preaching. Only the
Marxist-Leninist doctrine takes seriously the goals of freedom, justice, and equality of
modernization. The reason for the global ideological dominance of Marxism-Leninism in the '60s
and '70s was the belief that it completely eradicated obstacles, and so released the movement of
history toward its final goals. The modern educated elite of Ethiopia could not remain indifferent
to this global appeal for consistency. To say it one more time, Marxism-Leninism fired up
Ethiopian students and intellectuals because it deeply resonated with their Westernized intellectual
formation.
The advantages credited to Marxism-Leninism go a long way in explaining its supremacy
in the ideological battle against reformism and conservatism in the wake of the teetering imperial
regime. As a result of the global dominance of the ideology, it became easy for leftists to convince
many members of the educated elite that there was no reformist alternative for Ethiopia. The
Leninist principle according to which “imperialism is the eve of the proletarian social revolution”
turned liberalism and reformism into outdated political and ideological stands on a worldwide
scale17. Moreover, since imperialism has put an end to competitive capitalism, neither the ruling
class nor liberal groups outside the government can successfully bring about a bourgeois revolution
in the classic manner, even if we assume that they have the will to do so. The Leninist ideological
framework enabled leftist circles to argue that the age of solutions by reforms has ended. Included
in this dismissal of reformism is the argument that the entrenched and explosive contradictions of
Ethiopia, especially those involving land reform and the national question, are beyond any
reformist solution. The sad thing, however, is that very few people would have endorsed this
conclusion if the social uprising had occurred two decades later. Even though the contradictions
would have been the same, in the face of the disgraceful collapse of the socialist camp, most people
would have rejected the necessity or inevitability of a socialist revolution in Ethiopia. Not the
objective reality, therefore, but the ascendency at that time of the socialist doctrine dictated the
conclusion and fomented the receptivity to the revolutionary appeal.
The Game-Changing Role of the Derg
Besides the fact that objective conditions did not require a socialist revolution, one must not omit
the weakness of the Ethiopian civilian left. Undoubtedly, the fantasy according to which a socialist
revolution was inevitable in Ethiopia highly exaggerated the strength of leftist forces. True, leftist
groups were quite visible and most vociferous, but this did not mean that a majority of the country
was behind them, especially in a country where the peasantry represented the overwhelming
majority. Even in urban areas, the fact that people participated in demonstrations organized by
leftist groups does not mean that the majority shared their ideological convictions. More
importantly, a surprising characteristic of the Ethiopian social uprising was that no organized
parties existed when it exploded. Though people with leftist convictions infiltrated various sectors
of the working forces, they were scattered and devoid of organizational unity. Leftist political
parties per se emerged after the outbreak of the crisis of the imperial regime. Under these
conditions, it is not feasible to argue that a socialist revolution was inevitable; it is even less
feasible to suppose that the revolution would have occurred without the ad hoc intervention of the
Derg, whose conversion to socialism was anything but predictable.
Scholars tying the occurrence of the revolution to the rise of the Derg precisely emphasize
the weakness of the Ethiopian left as well as the lack of radical demands on the part of many
protesters. In so doing, they present the revolutionary orientation as an outcome of a military coup,
with the consequence that it has been imposed on the country. Thus, according to Paul Henze, the
prospect of peaceful and gradual change was suddenly interrupted when in February 1974, “a
group of lower-level officers . . . organized an armed forces coordinating committee.”18 Henze is
not alone in thinking that the formation of the Derg and, with it, the rise of Mengistu Haile Mariam
principally explain the revolutionary drift toward the overthrow of the monarchy and the rejection
of a reformist course.
In light of the patent weakness of the civilian left and the initial moderate demands of the
social protests, Henze’s position reflects one undeniable truth: the revolutionary direction was
indeed unthinkable without the Derg. However, it is equally true that, without the anti-monarchial
and anti-liberal agitation of students and intellectuals, the Derg would not have taken the path of
socialist revolution. Even though students and intellectuals did not have the material and
organizational power to trigger and successfully lead a radical revolution, the popularity of the
socialist ideology, which the Derg used to claim legitimacy, especially in the eyes of the soldiery,
was their work. The hesitations of the Derg and its internal ideological divisions during the early
days of its formation indicate that the continuation of the civilian unrests and the radical discourse
of students and intellectuals were quite instrumental in ensuring the triumph of radical elements
over moderates within the Derg itself.
Another factor that facilitated the rise of radical elements within the Derg, notably of
Mengistu, is the series of mistakes of the reformist camp, in which some educated aristocrats were
also included, and its lack of determination. Even though a new cabinet headed by a new prime
minister, Endalkatchew Makonnen, promised reforms, concrete measures that could create some
confidence were not taken. Rather than responding to a challenging situation with appropriate
measures, Endalkachew preferred a policy of appeasement, because he thought that he could
persuade the military to help him restore law and order. Once order was restored, the government,
he believed, could engage in the peaceful and gradual task of reforming the regime. To this effect,
he encouraged the formation of a military commission led by his close associate and kin,
Lieutenant-Colonel Alem Zewde Tessema, Commander of the elite Airborne Brigade stationed
near the capital.
The policy of buying time instead of engaging quickly in the task of dismantling the old
structures was indeed a miscalculation. The primacy given to temporary appeasement created the
impression of a cabinet little committed to serious reforms. Where bold measures were needed,
the cabinet’s demand for patience sounded discordant and out of touch with reality. The promise
of reforms in lieu of actual actions did no more than heighten the suspicion that the government
was dragging its feet. Above all, the creation of the military commission was a momentous blunder.
How else could it be perceived but as a divisive stratagem and, inadvertently, as an invitation for
the military to seize power? Once the prime minister himself had sanctioned the breakup of the
military chain of command by empowering an ad hoc commission, the path was open for the
formation of the rival informal group, to wit, the Derg.
The blame for inviting a military coup should not be put exclusively on Prime Minister
Endalkatchew. The civilian left, too, committed many mistakes: its internal divisions and
exaggerated perception of its strength enabled the Derg’s takeover and the victory of its radical
members. In undermining through radicalized demands the formation of a large reformist
movement, was not the civilian left asking for a military takeover? Its call for a Leninist type of
socialist revolution, even as it had no organizational structure and unity to lead such a revolution,
ignited the belief that there was no alternative to military rule. The invitation for the military to
step in was even more direct, since the civilian left criticized and rejected any attempt to initiate a
democratic process that would prepare the ground for national elections and the installation of an
elected government. Against bourgeois democracy, Challenges writes, “the democracy of the
people is new and antithetical to bourgeois electoral democracy. Aside from the fact that bourgeois
democracy is banal, cheap, and superficial, it is also a direct antithesis of democracy by the
people.”19 In thus abandoning legitimacy gained through liberal electoral victory for the much
more premature goal of a “people’s democracy,” the civilian left was both sanctioning the seizure
of power through unconstitutional means and justifying a dictatorial type of government. The
military could not but see this denigration of “bourgeois democracy” as a blessing for their political
ambition.
1
Thomas H. Greene, Comparative Revolutionary Movements: Search for Theory and Justice (Englewood Cliffs,
N.J.: Prentice Hall, 1984), 134.
2
Mark N. Hagopian, The Phenomenon of Revolution (New York: Dodd, Mead & Company, 1974), 61.
3
Jack A. Goldstone, “Theories of Revolution: The Third Generation,” World Politics 32, no.3 (April 1980): 427.
4
Hagopian, The Phenomenon of Revolution, 54.
5
Jeffrey M. Paige, Agrarian Revolution: Social Movements and Export Agriculture in the Underdeveloped World
(New York: The Free Press, 1975), 18.
6
Assefa and Eshetu, “The State of the Ethiopian Economy: A Structural Survey,” Dialogue: A Publication of
Ethiopian University Teachers’ Association 1, no. 1 (October 1967): 37.
7
Ibid.
8
Robert S. Love, “Economic Change in Pre-Revolutionary Ethiopia,” African Affairs 78, no.12 (July 1979): 344.
9
Jeff Goodwin, “The Renewal of Socialism and the Decline of Revolution,” The Future of Revolutions: Rethinking
Radical Change in the Age of Globalization, ed. John Foran (New York: Zed Books, 2003), 67.
10
Ibid.
11
Misagh Parsa, “Will Democratization and Globalization Make Revolutions Obsolete?” The Future of Revolutions:
Rethinking Radical Change in the Age of Globalization, ed. John Foran (New York: Zed Books, 2003), 74.
12
Theda Skocpol, States and Social Revolutions: A Comparative Analysis of France, Russia, and China (New York:
Cambridge University Press, 1980), 12. Skocpol is commenting on Chalmers Johnson’s functionalist approach.
13
Rene Lefort, Ethiopia: An Heretical Revolution? trans. A. M. Berrett (London: Zed Press, 1983), 43.
14
Kiflu Tadesse, The Generation, the History of the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Party Part I (Silver Spring:
The Independent Publishers, 1993), 59.
15
Andargachew Tiruneh, The Ethiopian Revolution 1974-1987 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 58.
16
Robert A. Scalapino, “Prelude to Marxism: The Chinese Student Movement in Japan, 1900-1910,” Approaches to
Modern Chinese History (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1967), 191.
17
V. I. Lenin, Imperialism the Highest Stage of Capitalism (Eastford, CT: Martino Fine Books, 2011), 14.
18
Paul B. Henze, Layers of Time: A History of Ethiopia (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2000), 284.
19
“Editorial: Our Principles and Tasks in the Ethiopian Revolution,” Challenge 12, no. 1 (March 1972): 6.
Chapter VIII
Derailed Modernization: The Derg’s Phase
The cultural trait making higher social positions into contested temporary occupations (see Chapter
III on idil) should have found, in the modernization process of evicting outdated, anti-modern
occupants, an even better opportunity to vent itself. In the traditional system, power struggles
opposed ambitious individuals who shared common values and a mutual understanding of social
life. The struggle did not go beyond the act of changing places in a fixed social framework.
However, as a result of the impact of exogenous modern ideas, the struggle shifted to a
confrontation between elites with different ideologies and social programs. These elites want to
use state power either to definitively change the social system in their favor or to counter those
who are planning a change perceived as hostile to them. Understandably, the disagreement over
values and social ideals turns the struggle into an irreconcilable confrontation, whose sole solution
is revolution, that is, the complete overthrow of ruling elites, on the one hand, and, on the other,
the elimination of all those perceived as rivals. Put differently, under the impact of modern means
of suppression and antagonistic social values, the old power struggle turned into a fight between
exclusive social visions targeting the elimination of opponents. The distortion of political
competition into a form of violent exclusion over ideological differences can be said to have taken
a firm root in Ethiopia with the radicalization of the student movement and its aftermaths, to wit,
the emergence of the Derg and the adoption of socialism.
The Radicalization of the Derg

Besides the rapidity and ease with which the imperial system was overthrown, the surprising thing
is that an ad hoc committee engineered and executed the overthrow. Without a doubt, the explosion
of social unrests and the inability of the existing government to quell the outbreak have prepared
the ground for some form of military intervention. Even so, the expectation was that senior officers
would lead the intervention, most probably in the form of a coup ushering in the establishment of
a military government. Instead, the Derg, that is, an elected committee in which the highest rank
was that of major, took the leading role. The emergence of the Derg and the series of rapid and
aggressive actions it took brought about the collapse of the military hierarchy, thereby preventing
a coup from above.
The Derg quickly displayed its political ambition: it demanded and obtained the
appointment of a new prime minister and a new defense minister; it also started to arrest high
officials of the imperial regime, who were either accused of being corrupt or of obstructing the
ongoing change. These actions were clear stepping stones toward the seizure of political power,
which became effective when the Emperor was deposed on September 12, 1974. The greatest
surprise of all was, however, the radicalization of the Derg, given that it was posterior to Haile
Selassie’s overthrow and that most members of the Derg, if not all, did not have a prior
commitment to the Marxist-Leninist ideology. The question of radicalization is all the more
perplexing the more one recalls that the Derg initially came up with a nationalist ideology whose
main slogan was Ethiopia Tikdem (Ethiopia First). So radical a turn from a nationalist platform to
the ideology of “scientific” socialism in a matter of months was bound to raise controversy among
scholars of the Ethiopian Revolution.
Without entering into the actual controversy, we can say for sure that the radicalization was
the result of a process during which various choices were contemplated and vehemently debated.1
According to Zenebe Feleke, who was a close observer of the Derg, three different positions slowly
emerged during the early meetings of the Derg. One large group supported the idea of a
constitutional monarchy, while another group called for the establishment of an elected civilian
government. A third group argued for a direct military government.2 Granted the part played by
radical students and intellectuals in the Derg’s radicalization, still the important question is to know
how a small extremist group within the Derg prevailed over the larger moderate group.
Explaining the Derg’s radicalization is elucidating the reason why it did not stick to its
initial nationalist ideology of “Ethiopia First,” which was after all more suited to a military
personnel. Neither the pressure of the civilian left nor that of already radicalized members, if any,
within the Derg is enough to explain it. It is not enough because the nationalist ideology was
adopted, in the first place, to draw a demarcating line between leftist politics, represented by
students and intellectuals, and the moderate stand of most members of the Derg. It would be naïve
to assume that the moderates were just seduced by the convincing power of students and
intellectuals. One thing is sure, nonetheless: in an ad hoc committee composed of people with
disparate outlooks and coming from different social and educational backgrounds and in which the
customary chain of command has been suspended, only some vague nationalist platform could
provide a temporary agreement. However, underneath the agreement, a Hobbesian situation of
struggle, fraught with all kinds of possibilities, prevailed. In the nuanced words of a scholar, “many
of the splits in the dergue may have had ideological overtones, but they must also be categorized
as struggles for power.”3
The most credible way to understand how Derg members, who previously had disparate
beliefs and were strangers to one another, drastically shifted to radical ideas in a relatively short
time, is to assume that radicalization appeared to them as the most appropriate stand to preserve
and strengthen their newly acquired power. Instead of ideological commitment being prior to the
capture of power, the seizure and exercise of power explain the adoption of extreme leftist ideas.
The evolution from the original nationalist slogan of Ethiopia Tikdem (Ethiopia First) in 1974 to
scientific socialism in 1976 via Ye-Ethiopia Hibretesebawinet (Ethiopian Socialism) in 1975
reflects the various stages tying the Derg’s ascent to absolute power with radicalization. It makes
sense to say that the need to conserve power accounts for the conversion to leftist extremism if the
conversion appeared to most Derg members as a sine qua non for the retention of absolute power.
The sense it makes is even more manifest when we keep in mind that the highest rank in the Derg
was that of major. This fact deprived the Derg of any entitlement to state power, and so multiplied
contestants from various sectors, especially from the higher strata of the social and military
ladders. Social radicalism precisely fills the lack of entitlement with a revolutionary entitlement,
the very one that paints the Derg as the righter of wrongs, the dispenser of justice for the exploited
and the poor.
8 DERAILED MODERNIZATION: THE DERG’S PHASE 97
The Derg’s Struggles for Power and their Radicalizing Effects
Among the groups that challenged the Derg, we find the old aristocracy, the landed nobility, the
bureaucrats, the educated middle class, and the influential civilian left. Most of all, imminent
danger came from the military, in particular from senior officers, officers of elite units, and those
who graduated from elite military schools. The Derg’s monopoly of power was necessary to
neutralize these contenders, provided it went beyond a pure military dictatorship with a nationalist
ideology. Especially, the denunciation of the top echelon of the military hierarchy as a reactionary
force opposing change was the best way to counter the threats coming from the military. As to the
civilian left, nothing could neutralize it more than the appropriation and effective implementation
of its ideology of socialism. Moreover, the more the changes are disruptive of the status quo, the
more they call for and justify the use of the repressive forces of the state. Indeed, what else could
better justify the Derg’s monopoly of power but the introduction and forceful enforcement of
radical changes, those very changes that require the complete dismantling of the existing system
of power? The civilian left should be commended for popularizing the generous vision of
socialism. Still, the most important part being the implementation of the vision, the full control of
power should fall into the hands of the Derg. Obviously, as the single organized force, only the
Derg is able to implement radical changes and protect them against countering forces.
The initial fragility of the Derg further validates the derivation of radicalization from a
social context that unleashed an open and unpredictable power struggle. From the moment of its
inception, the fate of the Derg looked highly precarious, not only because of the leftist opposition,
but primarily because, as already said, of the opposition from within the armed forces. As one
author writes, “no one expected the Dergue to last so long. It was a common thing to wager on its
imminent collapse, particularly in view of the number and variety of its enemies.”4 Without a
dictatorial power and, subsequently, the recourse to a violent form of government, the Derg could
not have survived. And what could unify more the young officers, non-commissioned officers, and
privates composing the Derg than the defense of a radical social program committed to the cause
of workers and peasants, the realization of which cannot, of course, happen without the use of
violent means?
The need to counter growing threats explains why the Derg reversed its initial pledge,
stated in the platform of Ethiopia Tikdem, to effect change without any bloodshed. It is because
the urgent matter for the Derg was the control of absolute power that it could not be content, like
so many third-world governments, with simply talking about socialism without implementing it.
Without the implementation of a radical program of change, the Derg could not prevail over so
many challengers. The essential purpose of the drastic revolutionary measures was, therefore, the
institution of a system of government that not only provided effective and unfettered control, but
also defended a social program sanctioned at that time nationally and internationally by the
prestigious ideology of socialism. So that, survival was indeed the most important reason for
radicalization. To quote Fred Halliday and Maxine Molyneux, “If it was to survive, the PMAC
[the Derg] had to destroy the socio-economic foundations of the old regime. This involved
expropriation, a measure of mass mobilization, and the extension of state control throughout
society.”5
In taking radical measures, such as the nationalization of all lands and industries, the Derg
surprised everybody, including the civilian left, but even more so created a highly chaotic situation
that could even lead to civil wars. In so doing, the committee instilled into the minds of many
people, notably of the armed forces, the fear that overthrowing the Derg had turned into a risky
course of action, all the more so as the removal would amount to reversing measures that had
become popular, especially among southern peasants. In other words, the revolutionary measures
have so exasperated the social situation that the Derg became indispensable and alone able to keep
under control the issuing inevitable social disruptions. It is not an exaggeration to say that the
radical measures of the Derg took the country, notably the armed forces, as hostages. A note of
caution, though: because the revolutionary option was a means to grab absolute power, it does not
mean that its implementation was not somewhat sincere. Without some measure of sincerity in the
application of the measures, the committee and its members would neither have secured actual
survival nor enjoyed the absolute power they aspired to achieve. What at the beginning was just a
necessary tool can even turn into a calling, especially when it is backed by popular support and
resisted by advocates of the discredited regime.
Side by side with the insurrectional atmosphere created by the agitations of the student
movement and the mistakes and miscalculations of high officials of the imperial regime, as
discussed in the last chapter, an important radicalizing factor was the rivalries that divided the
Derg from within. The nationalist program of “Ethiopia First” was not enough for most members
of the Derg, not because of the strength of the civilian left, but because the program would have
soon exposed the unnecessity of the Derg for the implementation of a policy that retreats from
effecting structural changes. The major event that supports this interpretation is the conflict with
Aman Andom, a very popular general that the Derg appointed as acting head of state. The conflict
convinced many members of the Derg that a moderate policy would entail a reorganization of the
Derg in the direction of favoring its most educated members at the expense of the less educated.
In effect, arguing that the disparate composition of the Derg made it unable to become an effective
ruling body, General Aman proposed to restructure “the 120-man Dergue into a smaller body”
while the rest would return to the barracks.6 Unsurprisingly, the proposal infuriated the majority
of Derg members, especially Mengistu, who did not graduate from an elite academy. As a result,
all those threatened by the proposal rallied around Mengistu. Soon after, a shootout occurred
resulting in the death of General Aman. By killing a popular general, the Derg found itself in an
ominous situation. It needed an immediate diversion: hence “on the same night, after a hastily
taken vote, 59 officials of the former Government and high-ranking military officers were
executed. This decision evidently marked the ascendancy of the most radical faction within the
Derg.”7 On December 20, 1974, that is, a month after the executions, the official adoption of
socialism was announced. The series of nationalizations followed in the next few months. This
rapid revolutionary escalation confirms the deliberate recourse to a scorched-earth policy as the
best way to ensure the survival of the Derg.
It is important to keep in mind that the intra-Derg conflicts and their resolutions are
inseparable from Mengistu’s ascent to the complete control of the Derg and, by extension, to
absolute power over the country. Another memorable moment of the elimination of rivals within
the Derg occurred on February 3, 1977, when “Mengistu launched his own surprise coup by
executing seven of the leaders of the minority faction including General Teferi Bante, the new
head of state.”8 After the elimination of his opponents, Mengistu imposed all his wishes on the
Derg, which had de facto ceased to exist as a collective body. He became Head of State and
Chairman of the Derg and immediately launched the Red Terror campaign to wipe out the civilian
left, in particular the main contending force on the left, the Ethiopian People's Revolutionary
Party and its followers.
Given the crucial role of Mengistu, no study of the Ethiopian Revolution can claim to be
thorough unless it elucidates the contribution of his personality in ensuring his triumph as well as
his later defeat. It is highly doubtful that the military takeover would have taken such a radical turn
without the struggle for power launched by Mengistu. What we know about Mengistu’s life, the
manner he rose to absolute power, and his later pitiful downfall point to a narcissistic personality.
My contention is that not only is Mengistu’s narcissism an undeniable factor in his radicalization,
but it also explains both his rise to absolute power by defeating his adversaries, who had some
advantages over him, and his downfall.
According to one scholar, the essential features of narcissism are:
A grandiose sense of self-importance or uniqueness and preoccupation with fantasies of

unlimited success and power; hypersensitivity to criticism; and a lack of empathy. Self-
esteem, while outwardly appearing high, is actually quite fragile, with a need for constant
attention and admiration.9
The application of the features of narcissism to radicalization shows how nicely a Stalinist type of
socialism fits Mengistu’s quest for grandeur, admiration, and absolute power. In espousing the
lofty cause of socialism in its radical version, Mengistu found a sustainer for his need for a
grandiose self-image as well as for his pronounced promptness for the use of violence. In the case
of Mengistu, it is true to say, “traits like narcissism and a heightened power drive, whatever their
origins, are necessary to sustain a commitment to radical social change.”10 Though many aspects
of Mengistu’s life, such as education, physical appearance, family background, and military
experience, disadvantaged him in comparison to his main rivals, and his victory over them looked
very unlikely, he was able to surmount these obstacles thanks to the advantages that his narcissism
gave him. Abilities that are typical of narcissistic personalities, such as high determination,
manipulation, craving for power, cruelty, etc., are the weapons that Mengistu used to triumph over
his opponents. The contribution of his narcissistic traits to his downfall is no less obvious. Though
he created an impressive military machine, it was unable to fight in an efficient and sustained
manner because it was undermined by his narcissistic defects, such as paranoia, grandiosity,
preference for loyalty over competence, inflexibility, recklessness, and inability to quell emotion.
Because of these defects, his tight leadership over military operations was marred with mistakes,
setbacks, and unnecessary and reckless waste of human life and military resources. Northern
guerrilla forces were finally able to defeat the army after a prolonged and extremely bloody and
costly war.
Controversies over the Revolution

While there is a large consensus on the occurrence of a radical revolution in Ethiopia,
disagreements arise when it comes to evaluating its performance. The detrimental consequences
of the revolution on the country nourish the disagreements to a great extent. Indeed, as many
scholars maintain, if one put together the sharp and wholesale economic decline, the secession of
Eritrea and its damaging fallouts, including the fact that Ethiopia became landlocked, and the
establishment of a perilous system of ethnic federalism subsequent to the Derg’s total defeat, the
17 years of the Derg’s rule can be rightly described as a colossal calamity. Without exaggeration,
the rule can be summed up as a continuous civil war during which a great number of people either
lost their lives or were forced to flee the country. Moreover, the policy of socialism and the
diplomatic alliance with the Soviet camp entailed a drastic deterioration of Western economic aid
and involvement in Ethiopia, a loss for which socialist countries were nowhere near to providing
a substitute. In a word, in terms of advancing modernization, the revolutionary therapy did no more
than gravely worsen the ills of Ethiopian society.
In view of such disastrous outcomes, should we conclude that nothing positive can be said
about the Ethiopian Revolution? While it is quite tempting to characterize the revolution as a
catastrophe, an unqualified denigration would be both amnesic and premature. All those countries
that have gone through a similar type of social revolution have experienced, it is true with varying
degrees, destructions and economic decline. Nevertheless, their historians have come up with sober
judgments distinguishing negative outcomes from positive realizations. The point is that
revolutions are not accidents; they are products of definite social impediments that are such that
only massive social upheavals and transformations can remove them. In light of this need for
dislocating changes, an objective assessment of revolutions must include the inevitability, even
the prevalence of negative developments.
For Karl Marx, as an outcome of class struggle, a thorough-going social change cannot be
merely evolutionary; it requires a break in continuity as a result of which a radically different social
system comes into being. Some such break is bound to cause extensive destructions.
Modernization theory has developed a different approach by making revolution the exception
rather than the rule. Revolution is not how history evolves, but how exceptional circumstances
blocking evolution are removed. For modernization theory, “the actual experience of revolution is
essentially a corrective to lagging social and political adjustments and a painful learning process
of trial and (mostly) error.”11 Fully endorsing an evolutionary scheme, the theory maintains that
society develops gradually. However, when an abnormal condition is created, such as long-lasting
autocratic or caste regimes, society cannot reconnect with the evolutionary process unless a violent
revolution removes the obstacle. While for Marx revolutions are necessary, being but the law of
social change, for modernization theory, they are corrective measures for exceptional
circumstances. Given the rarity of social revolutions, the position of modernization theory seems
more historically grounded than the Marxist view.
Let us agree that revolutions are necessary to remove entrenched and tenacious obstacles
hatched by autocratic or dynastic regimes. Still, this presumed positive goal does not explain the
engagement in a type of change that brings about extreme and unnecessary consequences. As was
the case with the two classical examples of radical revolution, to wit, the Russian and French
Revolutions, moderates first controlled the revolutions until radicals overthrew them. While the
first phase was indeed necessary to correct the anomaly, the second phase, the radical phase, was
altogether unnecessary and highly detrimental. Thus, evaluating the French Revolution, Alexis de
Tocqueville speaks positively of its first phase, which he characterizes as “a time of youth,
enthusiasm, pride, a time of generous and sincere emotions, whose memory, despite its mistakes,
will always be preserved by humanity.”12 By contrast, he is highly critical of the second phase in
that he sees a derailment caused by “errors and miscalculations,” as a result of which the French
“forgetting liberty” surrendered to oppression and tyranny as well as to war fever.13 The cause for
this derailment is the intrusion and ascendancy of an egalitarian ideology in the second phase,
which ascendancy can only be achieved by going against freedom. It is obvious that the goal of
equality cannot be implemented without crippling freedom by recourse to a dictatorial rule.
Luckily, France was able to reverse course and resume the much more promising path of
evolutionary change.
At this stage, it is necessary to give a conceptual framework to a distinction between two

types of revolution. Many theoreticians of revolution use the qualification “great” when they speak
of the French, Russian, and Chinese Revolutions. Such revolutions as the American or the English
Revolutions are not usually included in the category of “great revolutions,” mainly because the
intensity and depth of their transformations are not comparable to those of the “great revolutions.”
Unlike the deep and sweeping upheavals of the Russian or Chinese Revolution, “the American
War of Independence resulted in a change of government, but it was not accompanied by a massive
social upheaval. And what some call the English Revolution, others call the English Civil War.”14
Another qualification is used to signify the same thing: whereas the American and English
Revolutions are defined as “political revolutions,” revolutions that result in deeper
transformations, like the French, Russian, and Chinese Revolutions “are sometimes referred to as
‘great’ or ‘social’ revolutions.”15
The difference between the two types of revolution is not hard to define concretely. As the
expression indicates, a political revolution is a violent, unconstitutional overthrow of a state or a
political regime resulting in the enthronement of a new and reformist political elite. A social
revolution, in addition to accomplishing the overthrow of a political regime, goes deeper and
causes transformations in the socioeconomic and cultural spheres. It “entails not only mass
mobilization and regime change, but also more or less rapid and fundamental social, economic,
and /or cultural change during or soon after the struggle for state power.”16
The difference can be expressed otherwise if we say that the purpose of political
revolutions is to transform the state and remove all or part of the ruling political elite for the
purpose of introducing reforms modernizing the social system. The reforms are adjusting the
lagging political structure to the requirement of economic modernization, but fall short of altering
the class structure of the society. Social revolutions alter the class structure and the functioning of
the economic system, and so are more radical. The difference between the two revolutions is not,
therefore, simply one of degree or intensity. The difference in intensity is itself expressive of a
difference in kind deriving from dissimilar social goals or projects. Political revolutions are
corrections or synchronizations; they “occur mainly when new economic and social developments
have already begun to transform society, but where existing political rulers and institutions are
tending to hold back further changes.”17 Basically, political revolutions attempt to further
modernization by removing political systems that are at odds with economic advancement. A
characteristic case is when a landed aristocracy preserves its political supremacy in a modernizing
society. In such a case, the removal of the political elite opens the path of reforms for the expansion
of modernization.
Social revolutions have a much higher social ambition. Going beyond the concern of
reforming or correcting the social system, they want “to transfer economic assets and power, and
social and political status and privileges, from one social group to another.”18 They do so through
the espousal of an egalitarian ideology, the realization of which requires the alteration of the class
structure of society. Not only are social revolutions more deep-going and violent than political
revolutions, but they also harbor the goal of transforming human existence in a redemptive fashion,
and so come under an inspiration that can be characterized as utopian. As such, they are, to a great
degree, ideologically driven revolutions. Revolutions inspired by the Marxist ideology provide the
best examples of this type of revolution.
The case of Ethiopia followed the pattern of Russia and China. It did not stop at the political
level, which would have allowed the implementation of relevant reforms. Instead, it ventured, in
the name of socialism, into the egalitarian path whose predictable outcomes were dictatorial rule,
severe economic decline, and exasperation of social conflicts. As we saw in Chapter VII, Ethiopia
went through two revolutionary phases, a moderate phase and then a second, more radical phase
in conjunction with the rise of Mengistu to the undisputed leadership of the Derg. The occurrence
of a two-phased revolution provides the framework for the disputes over the assessment of the
revolutionary change. Unsurprisingly, positive assessments came mostly from scholars belonging
to what was then called the Eastern Bloc countries. Outside the socialist camp, a scholar like Peter
Schwab maintained that “for most Ethiopians the revolution has been beneficial, as it championed
their needs.”19 The statement basically means that the Derg has effectively liberated the working
people from a feudo-imperial state and severe economic exploitation, an outcome that could not
have been achieved without the use of violent methods. The emergence of a revolutionary and
ruthless power was necessary to dismantle a regime based on the combination of class and ethnic
domination. Insofar as such a regime was not reformable, there was no other choice than a radical
revolution, with all the excesses that this kind of social change inevitably entails.
Scholars who oppose such a favorable assessment raise the objection that the Ethiopian
Revolution did not bring about any improvement in the conditions of life of working people. On
the contrary, working people went through severe economic hardships, despite the sweeping
measures of nationalization. Politically, the revolution brought about a regime more dictatorial and
violent than the imperial regime. Moreover, it caused military defeats whose consequences were
the loss of Eritrea and the boosting of ethnonationalist ideology and parties. Since conditions in
Ethiopia went from bad to worse, for scholars opposing both the Derg and the idea of socialism
the revolution was simply an “unqualified disaster.”20
On the other hand, there are scholars and groups, mostly leftist, who even question the
revolutionary nomenclature of the Derg and speak of counterrevolution. For instance, the EPRP
characterized the Derg as a fascist regime determined to prevent the seizure of political power by
the civilian left. For all those who speak of counterrevolution, the implemented transformations
revealed more continuity with past practices than change. Rather than a real shift, “they believe
the changes wrought by the regime to be superficial, concealing a present-day and likely future
continuity in the underlying socioeconomic and political realities in the country.”21 Notably, the
nature of the Ethiopian state under the Derg showed much continuity with the imperial regime. As
expected, ethnonationalist scholars shared this analysis; for them, too, continuity prevailed over
change. Despite the radical measures, the Derg neither abolished the “colonial” hegemony of the
Amhara over other ethnic groups nor demolished the authoritarian and centralized character of the
Ethiopian state. On the contrary, these two major impediments were strengthened to a degree never
reached before. The main consequence of this lack of change was the explosion of civil war in
various parts of the country.
The major problem with those who denounce counterrevolution is that their position
amounts to saying, directly or indirectly, that a radical revolution did not occur in Ethiopia.
Because what they expected did not come to pass, they concluded that a revolutionary change did
not happen or that it was overthrown. As to those who admit that a radical revolution took place
but maintain that it failed to deliver on its promises of freedom, prosperity, and social peace, their
assessment is closer to reality. However, they need to acknowledge two things: 1) revolution in
the political sense was necessary, given the social and political deadlock caused by the imperial
autocracy; 2) the cause of the failure is the engagement in the second radical phase. The distinction
between the two types of revolution teaches us that political revolution is necessary to remove the
social stalemate and resume the normal process of evolution. However, the removal is not immune
from contingencies: even though political revolution is enough to change course, conditions can
become so uncertain that radical groups advocating utopian ideologies can emerge and seize
power, thereby leading the society into the path of social revolution. This is to say that political
revolutions always carry the risk of allowing radical groups to come to power.
My contention is that the path taken by Ethiopia is exactly the path of political revolution
hijacked by an extremist military group, even though the commitment to egalitarian ideology
originally came from the input of students and intellectuals. The atmosphere of radicalism that
Ethiopia’s educated elite created facilitated the emergence of the Derg, which, owing to its
unconventional composition and rise to power, could not rule otherwise than through a policy of
radical social change. The uncertainties surrounding the occurrence of a political revolution
contain the danger of empowering eccentric groups and individuals with questionable moral
standards and dubious motivations. These people easily espouse an egalitarian ideology and what
goes with it, namely, the exercise of unlimited power. The question of knowing which of the two,
ideology or dictatorial power comes first, is immaterial, since the one entails the other. The Derg
quickly and easily adopted the Marxist-Leninist ideology because it came with the absolute power
that it needed to eliminate all other contending groups. Insofar as the socialist utopia promotes
lower classes and advocates the concentration of all power in the hands of a few (if not one)
individuals, it came in handy for the legitimization and consolidation of a marginal group of junior
officers and NCOs.
Disjunction between State Power and Modernization

Viewed from the perspective of modernizing Ethiopia, the socialist ideology that the Derg adopted
was highly consistent with the belief that eliminating traditional features was a sine qua non for
unlocking the process of modernization. Mengistu was all the more receptive to the belief, since
the radical elimination of traditional features, notably of the nobility and the deference due to high
military, civilian, and ecclesiastical officials, was in keeping with his narcissistic needs. Because
he came from a lower social background and had received a poor education, he felt marginalized
both in his childhood as well as his adult life. As a result, he had nurtured a deep grudge against
Ethiopia’s high society, which grudge suitably fitted the tenets of revolutionary socialism. The
determination and violent method with which he eliminated the upper class had a palpable
revengeful dimension.
The irony was that Mengistu’s elimination of what was left of tradition exhibited a striking
continuity with Haile Selassie’s regime both in terms of motive and method. In our review of the
traditional system (see Chapter III), we indicated that it was characterized by social mobility based
primarily on martial feats. Military prowess, especially in the service of the emperor, opened the
door to higher social positions. The fact that political promotions depended on being the winner in
war fights created a culture subordinating wealth and social status to political positions. The
suggested continuity between Mengistu’s regime and the imperial past stands out when we recall
that Haile Selassie, finally realizing the absolutist dream of previous emperors, put an end to the
open power struggle that defined the traditional system. The inevitable sequence tying rising with
falling (see chapter discussing idil), the relative autonomy of the regional nobility and the Church,
and the absence of hereditary entitlements were all features that made the traditional system
function on the basis of the consensus visualizing power as an object of competition. However,
beginning with Haile Selassie’s modernizing attempt, the consensus vanished in favor of a
conception of power as an exclusive right. In clear terms, it meant that the one who holds power
must prevent competition by all means necessary.
What Haile Selassie’s regime had achieved in the name of modernization reached its full
development with Mengistu. Everything happened as though Mengistu could not be content with
himself and his accomplishments unless his power surpassed that of his predecessors, for, as Karl
Marx said, “the tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the
living.”22 Indeed, his notion of exclusive power exceeded the imperial standard thanks to an even
tighter centralization of power, the nationalization of economic life, and the institution of a
totalitarian system of government. To the extent that these changes completely disrupted the
established system of power, it elevated to power a new elite that had no other basis than its total
allegiance to Mengistu. To make sure that loyalty is the overriding criterion, Mengistu created a
party (see Chapter IV), WPE, whose Politburo and Central Committee members were personally
chosen by him. So manufactured a party enabled Mengistu to bring all the apparatuses of the state,
including the military and economic agencies, under his full control thanks to the omnipresent
interventionism of the cadre of the party. Outside Mengistu, there was nothing to shore up the
legitimacy of the elite’s new-found status, since the revolutionary changes discarded all the norms
previously used, like tradition, nepotic preference, education, and merit, in favor of unconditional
loyalty.
In disarticulating the workings of the social system, the revolutionary changes deprived
rival elites of any means to effectively withstand the central authority. A repressive system
purposely designed to eliminate would-be rivals replaced the traditional legitimacy of the winner
in an open power game. As could be expected, this closed system of power divested the country
of competent people and filled the higher echelon of power with sycophants. What is more, it
encouraged the ethnicization of politics, since the demise of the traditional consensus as well as of
all customary norms pushed competing elites to cultivate ethnic ties to counter the totalitarian
policy of the central government (more on this in the next chapter). When everything else has been
thrown out, what else remains but to fall back on primal tribal solidarity?
The promotion of incompetence and the recourse to ethnic politics did no more than
weaken the unity of the country and, hence, its survival power. Moreover, nothing could be more
detrimental to the requirements of modernization than the continuation of the primacy of political
power when the objective is no longer just the survival of a polity. More exactly, when survival is
conditional on the possession of modern material forces, the development of which necessitates a
host of deep socioeconomic and cultural changes, including a power-sharing institutional
arrangement. Accordingly, the discrepancy between the objective of modernization and the
political system was both the defining feature of the revolutionism of the Derg and its Achilles
heel.
Let us look closer at the discrepancy. Whereas achievements, especially economic ones,
determine social status and influence in a modern setting, the primacy of the political can only
sideline social mobility based on economic achievements, thereby preventing the emergence of a
meritocratic society. In particular, where extensive scarcity and poverty prevail, those who hold
the reins of the state and their followers will use their power to grab for themselves whatever
wealth there is in the country. In thus subjugating economic activity to political status, they impose
on it tight control and the narrow limits of their interests. And so long as political power is used to
prevent the development of an autonomous economic sector, enough wealth will never be
produced. The need to subsume the autonomy of the economic system to political requirements
will become all the more imperative the more scarcity prevails and the more various elite groups
compete, as was and still is the case in Ethiopia, for the control of power. In short, the complete
ascendancy of the political over the economic, insofar as it subordinates economic life to non-
economic norms, is intrinsically unable to deliver economic growth.
Let there be no misunderstanding. I am perfectly aware of the objection according to which
the choice of socialism signified the adoption of a policy deliberately opposed to the capitalist
notion of free market. Nor do I ignore that the policy was based on the argument that only a state-
controlled economy can work for the benefit of working people and produce enough wealth for
them. Unfortunately, this kind of objection does not hold water when viewed from the vantage
position of Karl Marx, who is after all the original and authentic thinker of revolutionary socialism.
The belief that a policy, a conception imposed by sheer fiat can originate economic prosperity is
at the antipode of Marxism. As pointed out in the Introduction, for authentic Marxism, socialism
presupposes capitalist accumulation of wealth, so that it is the economic condition that calls for
political change each time the political lags behind economic development, not the other way
around. For those who fail to take into account this law of social development and attempt to
bypass the necessary prerequisites, Marx’s warning is that they create false problems, that is,
problems that they cannot solve. If the solution is not already in gestation in the existing society,
then no amount of political will and organizational strength can bend the society to the ideal vision
that any person or a group of persons may have. It follows that the attempts of Leninism, Stalinism,
Maoism, etc., to bypass capitalism and implement socialism by means of political dictates and
control is a deviation and betrayal of Marxism. No wonder this type of socialism degenerated into
dictatorship: the belief that the use of force, coercion, and centralized planning can bring about
economic development in societies that are still predominantly precapitalist puts modernization on
an upside-down course.
Seeing the efforts that were put in and their heavy prices, notably in terms of human costs,
to bypass capitalism and produce some results, it is little convincing to attribute the deviation to a
faulty understanding of Marxism. Instead, it makes better sense to assume that the main objective
of the so-called socialist revolutions was to institute the political hegemony of some elite groups
under the guise of a generous and attractive social utopia. Bluntly put, the socialist ideology was
primarily used as a vehicle for absolute power rather than as a means to bypass capitalism through
accelerated economic development. This understanding would certainly be in line with Marx’s
view of ideology as “false consciousness,” that is, as a set of deceitful beliefs and ideas that are
used as a smokescreen to hide the truth and justify the imposition of the power and interests of a
given ruling class.23 The primacy of power over economic concerns alone explains why, despite
repeated failures, it took so long for socialist countries to realize the need for reforms in the
direction of market economy. Indeed, it takes time to get to the point of losing faith in the promises
of a belief as generous and captivating as the idea of socialism, especially when the belief is pinned
to an established system of power.
The case of Ethiopia perfectly corroborates the ideological use of socialism to grab and
consolidate absolute power, since it puts into play the ambition of a previously apolitical military
group. In particular, the political ideas and organizational principles of socialism fitted Mengistu’s
craving for absolute power like a glove. Under his rule, the state was not just law and order; it was
also the owner and manager of the entire economic system and the only framer of the ideological
countenance of the country. The combination of all these attributes of the state meant that the
essential function of law and order was to serve the political designs of Mengistu and his party.
Yet, despite all this safeguard, his absolute power could not prevent the multiplication and
expression of discontent caused by growing economic hardships. Where government runs the
economy instead of market forces, competition is banned, and with it, all the factors that make
economic growth possible, namely, a free market that rewards innovations and productive
investments, the end result of which is the availability of products in higher quantity and quality
and at lower prices. Clearly, the non-competitive government-run economy is anything but
congruent with modernization, given that economic growth is a major requirement of the
modernization process. It is not enough to say that the socialist pursuit of equality is unattainable
without economic growth; it must be added that the continuance of severe scarcity and poverty
that seems to accompany dictatorial socialism actually worsens inequality. As underlined in
previous chapters, contrary to traditionality, the main characteristic of modernity is the liberation
of innovation, a trait that is obviously incompatible with the subordination of the entire social
fabric to a hegemonic and exclusionary rule.
What Derg members, especially Mengistu, appreciated in the socialist ideology was the
justification of absolute power in the name of defending the interests of ordinary people. They
conveniently convinced themselves that democratic principles and procedures are incapable of
promoting the interests of working people. To say that the cause of the working masses necessitates
absolute power is to surpass by far the power that Haile Selassie wielded. In effect, in addition to
subordinating all social and economic activities to the unfettered control of the state, socialism
allowed indiscriminate repression of whatever stepped outside the norms that the Derg established.
As we said, the downside of all this is undoubtedly economic stagnation, which does no more than
aggravate elite conflicts over scarce resources. What caused the stagnation was not so much the
need to restrict the reach of modernization so as to protect a traditional ruling class from
threatening social demands, as was the case with Haile Selassie, but the resolution to create a
socioeconomic system absolutely controlled by those who hold power. The nationalization of
almost everything in Ethiopia and the establishment of a sprawling system of stratified
neighborhood supervision (kebele) constituted the apex of political stronghold. Whereas
revolutions in Europe strived to enlarge freedom and opportunities for growth because they
supported the interests of emerging new classes, like the bourgeoisie, the Ethiopian Revolution
took the direction of blocking freedom and opportunities to aspiring new elites.
The intransigence of the Derg, particularly of Mengistu, on the question of absolute power
blew whatever potential socialism had for socioeconomic development. One of the major
outcomes of the mania of absolute power was the prolonged, bloody, and costly war against
insurgents, notably in the northern regions of Tigray and Eritrea. Even fully supported by the
military assistance of the Soviet Union, the prolonged war drained all the resources of the country,
with the consequence that Ethiopia slid downward into increasing poverty. The slide brought about
the proliferation, at all levels, of activities and behaviors unfriendly to economic development,
such as corruption, black marketeering, and cronyism. Moreover, the political alignment of
Ethiopia with the Soviet Union significantly reduced Western economic assistance. Caught
between the choice of hanging on to absolute power or compromising and accepting to share
power, Mengistu stubbornly refused to take the path of reforms to safeguard his personal
stronghold on power. He used all the repressive powers, including summary executions, to
eliminate all those considered as opponents. His boundless cruelty did not even spare his close
associates whose only fault was that they counseled reforms to reverse the downward slide. As
mentioned earlier, his obsession with absolute power ultimately led to his final fall following a
series of decisive defeats of the Ethiopian army at the hands of northern insurgents.
In sum, in ascribing all the shortcomings that derailed Ethiopia’s modernization to the
espousal and implementation of a radical socialist policy as well as to the unfitness, as established
by the original Marxism, of the prevailing objective and politico-cultural conditions to a socialist
policy, we are simply underlining the inseparable link between modernization and freedom.
Whether we take the free market or democracy, both aspects require the institutionalization of
freedom. Here, one may ask, what about the cases of some undemocratic governments, for instance
China, which achieved rapid, sustainable, and all-round economic growth to the point of becoming
a competing superpower to the United States? I answer that such cases are not so much a rebuttal
as a reminder that human history always works with particularities. It is in the realm of the possible
that a goal can be realized by sidelining one attribute in favor of a compensatory component.
Biological evolution provides countless examples of such a possibility: for instance, whereas fishes
developed gills to breathe in water, terrestrial animals engaged in the alternative path of growing
lungs to breathe in a different environment, namely, air. What is said here is just a reminder of the
theory of diverse roads to modernization developed in the first chapter of this book, especially of
the modernizing potential of cultural peculiarities. Thus, in terms of achieving economic results,
an enlightened, determined, and nationalist authoritarianism, like the one in China, can serve as a
substitute for the suspension of freedom, all the more efficiently if tradition sanctions it. Speaking
of the potential for higher economic growth of the Confucian ethic, Herman Kahn identifies two
driving features, namely, “the creation of dedicated, motivated, responsible, and educated
individuals and the enhanced sense of commitment, organizational identity, and loyalty to various
institutions.24 The method of deactivating, turning off one component to give the whole space to
the other component can score remarkable results, for instance fast and impressive economic
growth. However, the achievement remains one-sided so that the other part “is on the watch
unceasingly for its own turn to come.”25 That is why the Chinese success appears incomplete and
in wait for the release and advancement of the complementary component, to wit, freedom.
Contrast the Chinese case with the democratization of East Asian countries, as in the cases
of South Korea, Taiwan, and Hong Kong. Though all started their economic modernization with
the authoritarian model of a developmental state, which is premised on the strong involvement of
the state in the planning, regulation, and funding of economic growth, they were able to develop
progressively the other component of modernization, that is, democracy. As Francis Fukuyama
writes, these countries “have all had highly competent developmental states that pursued ambitious
industrial policies during their high-growth phases, and only later added the rule of law and
democratic institutions to serve as checks on executive power.”26 But when, as is the case of
Ethiopia, the one-sided development does not even take place, then it means that a whole different
situation fraught with harmful consequences is in the making.
After the fall of the Derg, the expectation was that the excess and failures of radical policy
would persuade Ethiopians to appreciate moderation and resume the path of reform and
evolutionary process. In effect, the conversion to the necessity of reformism through the adoption
of a moderate and realistic policy became a widely shared belief. A large number of educated
people, in line with the global disenchantment with the ideology of radical socialism, following
the collapse of the Soviet camp, freed themselves from the spell of Leninism and condemned the
revolutionary option as a disastrous mistake. This return to a reformist ideology would have been
the right policy for post-revolutionary Ethiopia, were it not for the exclusory struggle for power
unleashed by the ethnonationalist forces that overthrew the Derg, with the consequence that a new
oppressive and disquieting regime was again imposed on Ethiopians.
1
For an extensive study of the controversy, see Chapter 11in Messay Kebede, Ideology and Elite Conflicts: Autopsy
of the Ethiopian Revolution (New York: Lexington Books, 2011).
2
See Zenebe Feleke, Neber (Addis Ababa, 1996, Ethiopian Calendar), 29.
3
Pliny the Middle-Aged, “The PMAC: Origins and Structure,” Northeast African Studies 1, no.1 (1979): 1.
4
Bereket Habte Selassie, “The Dergue’s Dilemma: The Legacies of a Feudal Empire,” Monthly Review 32, no. 3
(July-August 1980):12.
5
Fred Halliday and Maxine Molyneux, The Ethiopian Revolution (London: Verso Editions and NLB, 1981), 99.
6
John Cartwright, Political Leadership in Africa (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1983), 273.
7
Marina Ottaway, “Social Classes and Corporate Interests in the Ethiopian Revolution,” The Journal of Modern
African Studies14, no.3 (September 1976): 480.
8
Yohannis Abate, The Legacy of Imperial Rule: Military Intervention and the Struggle for Leadership in Ethiopia
1974-1978,” Middle Eastern Studies 13 (1983): 35.
9
Jerrold M. Post, “Current Concepts of the Narcissistic Personality: Implications for Political Psychology,” Political
Psychology 14, no. 1 (March 1993):100.
10
S. Robert Lichter and Stanley Rothman, “The Radical Personality: Social Psychological Correlates of New Left
Ideology,” Political Behavior 4, no. 3 (1982)”: 231.
11
Forrest D. Colburn, The Vogue of Revolution in Poor Countries (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1994),
10.
12
Alexis de Tocqueville, The Old Regime and the Revolution, trans. Alan S. Kahan (Chicago: The University of
Chicago Press, 1998), 85.
13
Ibid.
14
Forrest D. Colburn, The Vogue of Revolution in Poor Countries), 7.
15
Jeff Goodwin, No Other Way Out: States and Revolutionary Movements, 1945-1991 (New York: Cambridge
University Press, 2001), 9.
16
Ibid.
17
Allan Todd, Revolutions, 1789-1917 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 4.
18
Ibid.
19
Peter Schwab, Ethiopia: Politics, Economics, and Society (Boulder, Colorado: Lynne Reinner Publishers, Inc.
1985), xi.
20
Bahru Zewde, A History of Modern Ethiopia 1855-1991 (Athens: Ohio University Press, 2001), 229.
21
John W. Harbeson, The Ethiopian Transformation: The Quest for the Post-Imperial State (Boulder: Westview Press,
1988), 10.
22
Karl Marx, The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte (New York: International Publishers, 2020), 15.
23
Friedrich Engels, “Letters on Historical Materialism,” Marx and Engels: Basic Writings in Politics and Philosophy
(New York: Anchor Books, 1959), 408.
24
Herman Kahn, World Development: 1979 and Beyond (New York: Routledge, 2019), 122.
25
Henri Bergson, The Two Sources of Morality and Religion (London: Macmillan and Co., 1935), 257. For a lengthy
discussion of Bergson’s view, see the last chapter in Messay Kebede, Bergson’s Philosophy of Self-Overcoming;
Thinking without Negativity or Time as Striving (Cham, Switzerland: Palgrave Macmillan, 2019),
26
Francis Fukuyama, “The Patterns of History” Journal of Democracy 23, no.1 (January 2012): 23.
Chapter IX
Derailed Modernization: The Ethnonationalist Phase
The last chapter concluded with the generalized expectation that the fall of the Derg would set in
motion some form of democratization dismantling the wide-ranging restrictions of the existing
socialist system, even if there was uncertainty about the real political program of the victorious
Tigrean insurgents. Despite promises of democratization, it did not take long for people to realize
that Ethiopia was heading for yet another version of hegemonic rule, this one replacing the class
ideology of the previous regime with ethnonationalism. As though a curse were on it, Ethiopia’s
modernization will once more stumble over an ideology and a political system framed for the
implementation of a different brand of exclusionary politics.
The Ethnonationalist Turn
The term “ethnonationalism” characterizes political movements claiming to represent

conquered or dominated “nations” defined in terms of inherited ethnic characteristics, such as
common racial, tribal, cultural, or linguistic features. Since they speak in the name of dominated
nations, their avowed goal is the right to self-determination, up to and including secession from an
existing state. They differ from mere ethnic movements, which are political movements that fight
for equal rights and treatment but fall short of being separatist. As such, ethnonationalism must be
seen as a radicalizing ideology, that is, as an expression of political competition targeting the
exclusion of rival elites through the formation of either a new and independent state or a state in
which the group that claims to represent the dominated ethnic group controls absolute power.
As we saw in the last chapter, the Derg’s complete eradication of rightwing and leftwing
forces left no other alternative than the ethnicization of oppositions. The story of the Ethiopian
leftist movement is well summarized if we say along with John W. Harbeson that it split into three
“competing, yet overlapping, revolutionary movements,” namely, “(1) military-led socialism . . .
(2) civilian socialism . . . (3) separatist nationalism.”1 All three vied for power through radicalized
ideologies until ethnonationalist movements came out on top following the Derg’s elimination of
the civilian left. In addition to showing a greater resistance against the repeated assaults of the
Derg, ethnonationalist movements proved more extremist than Marxist radicalization, since they
called most of the time for nothing less than the dismantling of Ethiopia. Insofar as the Amhara
ethnic group was held responsible for the establishment of modern Ethiopia in which the Amhara
elite, in addition to imposing its language and culture on the country, had full control of political
power and economic resources at the expense of all other ethnic groups, nothing could better
stigmatize both the Ethiopian state and Ethiopianism than the ethnonationalist ideology. By
contrast, local ethnic identities were rehabilitated, idealized, and raised to the level of full-fledged
nations. In so doing, ethnonationalism countered military socialism, Ethiopian nationalist forces,
and the Amhara elite’s hegemonic position, thereby providing the alternative ideology that was
needed to give a fighting chance to ethnicized regional elites in the struggle for power.
Unsurprisingly, many scholars, especially those belonging to Oromo, Tigrean, and Eritrean
ethnic groups, defended the thesis that Amhara domination over other ethnic groups was the main
cause of the Ethiopian Revolution. For ethnonationalist intellectuals, among the various cracks in
the imperial regime, “the discontent of the colonized peoples . . . was the deepest fault line running
through the society.”2 The term “colonized peoples” is deliberately coined to underscore the
seriousness of the ethnic issue in Ethiopia and the legitimacy of the claim to self-determination
and independence. Where there is colonization, decolonization becomes the overriding and the
only legitimate goal, which means either the rebuilding of the Ethiopian state on a new basis or,
ultimately, its dismantlement. In other words, the primary challenge that led the social uprisings
against the imperial regime to a revolutionary denouement was ethnic discontents and regional
separatist movements, the most important being the armed insurrections in Eritrea and in other
parts of the country, like in the Somali region of Ethiopia.
Several decisive arguments can be made against the thesis that ethnic issues were the main
cause of the Ethiopian Revolution. First, even though separatist movements erupted here and there
during Haile Selassie’s rule, none was really strong enough, including the Eritrean insurgency, to
score meaningful military victories, still less to threaten the imperial regime. Because separatist
movements were largely contained militarily and limited to remote and peripheral areas, their
characterization as the main cause of the downfall of the imperial regime is an obvious
exaggeration. More importantly, without the large and active participation of Amhara, who were
dominant in all spheres of life, the Ethiopian Revolution would not have taken place. We can even
say that it would not have occurred if the uprisings had taken a marked ethnonationalist direction.
The beginning of the revolution unquestionably highlighted the prevalence of class consciousness
and solidarity against the imperial system over ethnic exclusivism, given the fact that class
exploitation was considered the overriding common enemy of all ethnic groups, including the
Amhara working people. This prevalence is the reason why a great number of Amhara participated
in the revolts against the monarchy and many of them even took the leadership of the civilian,
student, and military movements. As Marina and David Ottaway write: during the early stages of
the revolution “class conflicts cut across the country’s main ethnic divisions.”3
The evident prevalence of class alignment over ethnic divisions reasserts that deep
dissatisfactions, as we saw in previous chapters, of urban and rural populations over conditions of
life better account for the eruption of revolution. Before the fall of the monarchy and during the
unfolding of the revolution, except for the Eritrean case, ethnic issues were either latent or
inextricably fused with the Marxist-Leninist ideology. In fact, as the revolution was unfolding, the
general belief was that ethnic inequality would find its final resolution with the establishment of
socialism, which includes a provision sanctioning the right to self-determination of each ethnic
group within the same political unit. The then Soviet Union was the inspiring model: by
recognizing the sovereignty of each nationality over its own territory, the Soviet system, so it was
believed, created the condition allowing the practice of self-determination within a freely accepted
federal union. Moreover, it can be argued that the intensification of ethnic politics since the fall of
Haile Selassie’s regime is both an aspect and a consequence of the radicalization of Ethiopian
students and intellectuals in the 60s and early 70s. The radical and polarizing culture inherited
from the adoption of Marxism-Leninism has certainly eased the transition from class struggle to
ethnonationalism. What could be more polarizing and destructive of the system inherited from the
Amhara hegemonic rule than the principle defending the right to self-determination of conquered
9 DERAILED MODERNIZATION: THE ETHNONATIONALIST PHASE 111
and “colonized” peoples? Lastly, the defeat of the Ethiopian state at the hands of ethnonationalist
insurgents proved the political and combative efficiency of ethnonationalist ideologies, as opposed
to the failures of social uprisings based on class solidarity. Some such victory could not but
considerably boost the attractiveness of ethnonationalist ideology: as the saying goes, the proof is
in the pudding.
These arguments clearly state that ethnonationalism is essentially a post-revolutionary
development. True, separatist movements existed before the revolution, but they were not
mobilizing enough to constitute a threat. They could neither overshadow the commitment of most
people to national unity nor militarily challenge the Ethiopian army. Even the insurgency in Eritrea
was nowhere near representing a real threat to the imperial regime. Precisely, ethnonationalist
movements were able to grow because of the Derg’s reckless policy: its appropriation of all power,
its stubborn stand against the very idea of negotiation, its disastrous economic failure, its violent
form of rule, and its inability (due to sheer incompetence) to prevail against guerrilla forces in
Eritrea and Tigray frustrated and disappointed a large number of people among the military and
civilian personnel, who then either turned into bystanders or tacitly supported or even frankly
joined the ethnonationalist movements. Unsurprisingly, with defeat, came the discredit of
Ethiopianism to the benefit of ethnonationalism.
The Nature of Ethnonationalism

The best way to unravel the politics involved in the ethnonationalist ideology is to review the
debate over the nature of ethnonationalism. For one school of thought called primordialism,
ethnonationalism is a primordial and emotional attachment to fixed group characteristics, such as
blood ties, race, language, region, and custom. Because ethnic ties go deep into biological and
affective motivations, primordialism concludes that they are “more basic and ‘primordial’ than
social groups organized on the basis of class.”4 Such an attachment naturally longs for national
sovereignty so that the only way to resolve ethnic conflicts is to allow people the right to live in
the state of their choice, even by seceding from existing states.
Opposed to this line of thinking is the school of instrumentalism, which argues that ethnic
conflict is less about attachment to primary identity and more about competition for the control of
state power. The persistence of identity politics is thus better explained by social inequalities than
by biological determinants, there being no doubt that enduring social discriminations can entail
“the continued salience of racial and ethnic criteria.”5 Where structured social inequalities exist,
excluding groups use certain characteristics (physical, linguistic, religious, etc.) to define and
justify their hegemony, while excluded groups extol their own characteristics to enhance their
respective internal solidarity and contest the hegemony. Far from being a primordial drive flowing
from biological and psychological determinants, ethnicity is thus a product of social relations, and
as such, is largely manufactured. Accordingly, identity politics is how elites from marginalized
groups vie for state power and access to resources by mobilizing people in the name of their
oppressed or marginalized ethnic identity. To quote Harvey Glickman, ethnicity is used as “a focal
point for mobilization or competition over resources, be they within or outside the state apparatus,
economic or political.”6 Since ethnic conflict is primarily about political competition rather than
about exclusive cultural identifications, a political arrangement allowing decentralization and
power-sharing can promote a peaceful resolution of conflicts.
The weakness of instrumentalism arises from the implied idea that ethnic identification is
a product of elite manipulation, a conception that is obviously not enough to explain its strong
emotional content and its inclination for violent confrontations. Instrumentalism presents identity
politics as a rational calculation, but does not explain why the masses follow with great fervor the
calculation of elites. It is this weakness that the constructivist approach wants to correct by
associating belligerent ethnic discourses with the invention of new identities. Constructivism
argues that mistreatments and the need for liberation prepare the ground for marginalized elites to
imagine communities embellished with thrilling characteristics, thereby successfully mobilizing
the people with whom they identify. The promise of deliverance activates affective components
that impart an emotional dimension to what is but an invented identity. Accordingly,
constructivism “sees ethnicity as the product of human agency, a creative social act through which
such commonalities as speech code, cultural practice, ecological adaptation, and political
organization become woven into a consciousness of shared identity.”7 Far from being primordial,
ethnicity is, therefore, a historical development and, as such, complex, fluid, and changing.
Likewise, instead of being a mere rational calculation reviving a past identity, it brings into play
an invented and idealized new identity. This idealized identity accounts for the emotional
component of ethnonationalism.
The above debate solicits an approach that sees complementarity, rather than opposition,
between constructivism and instrumentalism. Indeed, the mobilization of reinvented galvanizing
identities suited for the purpose of empowerment, is it not the most effective way of promoting
political and economic interests, especially when said interests are challenged or denied? In other
words, cultural construction is itself an instrument whose purpose is to optimize a political claim.
As one author puts it, ethnic groups are “calculating, self-interested collective actors, maximizing
material values through the vehicle of communal identity.”8 Instead of a mere revival of primordial
attachments, the combination of the two approaches offers the obvious advantage of being relevant
to current problems and aspirations. The reinvention of identity puts at the disposal of elites
fighting for the control of power the possibility of mobilizing powerful sentiments associated with
identity and group solidarity, thereby mapping out constituencies that function as their power
bases. Since the fight is over the control of the state, the strategy is to mobilize group rights so as
to use reinvented ascriptive characteristics (common descent, language, culture, etc.) to exclude
political rivals as unentitled, alien, or illegitimate opponents or rulers.
A good example of the insight provided by the combination of instrumentalism with
constructivism is the case of the TPLF. Without interpreting ethnicity as an imaginative
reinvention of identity, instrumentalism by itself cannot explain how the TPLF succeeded in taking
the people of Tigray along the path of ethnonationalism. Though Tigray is considered the cradle
of Ethiopian civilization and state and Tigreans and Amhara share important cultural traits and a
long common history under the same national polity, the TPLF reinvented Tigray as a distinct
nation by emphasizing language differences and by putting the blame for Tigray’s poverty and
blockage of its purported high potentials on the Amhara political hegemony. The case of the TPLF
thus confirms the involvement of an act of invention, but the explanatory power of the invention
is not complete unless it is linked to a political goal, which provides the purpose of the creation of
a new identity. This is exactly how Aregawi Berhe, a founding member of the TPLF and a former
commander puts it: “The TPLF leadership put forward ethno-nationalism with ‘self-determination
including and up to secession’ as its principal goal mainly because it offered the best chance of
building an effective fighting force that leads to power, which understandably is the elite’s own
goal.”9
To the extent that the military victory of the TPLF meant the ideological triumph of
ethnonationalism, it naturally postulated a profound deconstruction of the Ethiopian state, the very
one that cleared the way for the implementation of a federal system comprising national state units
exclusively defined in ethnic terms. Ethnicity as a maximizing factor in elites’ struggle for the
control of power finds a perfect confirmation in Ethiopia’s experiment with ethnic federalism.
Besides being imposed, Ethiopia’s ethnic federalism is deliberately established to ensure the
saliency of ethnic identity. Whereas other countries use federalism as a device to dilute the
divisiveness of ethnicity so as to boost national unity, all the rules and constitutional provisions in
Ethiopia tend to strengthen ethnic identity to the detriment of a unifying national identity. A perfect
illustration of this is the Ethiopian Constitution of 1994. It opens with the following preamble:
“We, the Nations, Nationalities and Peoples of Ethiopia strongly committed, in full and free
exercise of our right to self-determination, to building a political community.”10 Contrast the
opening with that of the US Constitution: though it is equally federal, it says, “We the People of
the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union.”11 The purpose of the American
Constitution is to perfect a union that already exists and is acknowledged as such. Not so with the
Ethiopian Constitution: it speaks of separate and sovereign entities that agree to build a political
association as though the Ethiopian national state had no prior existence. By any measure, the
opening statement is far removed from prioritizing unity, since the created political assemblage
does not derive from the people as one body, but from the distinct and sealed ethnic units, which
are therefore the truly sovereign and founding entities. Moreover, these sovereign entities commit
to unity only under the condition that it serves their interests while they themselves have no
obligations toward the larger unity. This is evidenced by the recognition of an absolute right to
secede: Article 39 of the Constitution reads, “Every Nation, Nationality and People in Ethiopia has
an unconditional right to self- determination, including the right to secession.”12 The absoluteness
of the right excludes any provision requiring the surrender of whole or part of their sovereignty as
a condition of their membership in the larger community.
The reason why the TPLF gave absolute primacy to the ethnic criterion over national
sovereignty is not hard to find. Both to mobilize the Tigrean people so as to overthrow the
perceived dominance of the Amhara elite and to establish a federal system that favors it, the TPLF,
as a representative of a minority ethnic group, had to fracture Ethiopia along ethnic lines, whose
consequence is that the country appears as a collection of nations and nationalities. In addition to
being suitable for a divide-and-rule strategy, this fracturing scheme confines local elites to regional
concerns while giving the TPLF full control of the federal government, especially of its military
and repressive forces. Such a system develops relationships with regional elites that are
fundamentally unequal: the continued support of the TPLF is so essential to regional elites that
they view themselves and act as junior partners. For they know that they have no entitlement to
local power other than through the support of the party that installed them in power in the first
place, namely, the TPLF. Any resistance on the part of regional elites entails the removal of their
status, not to mention imprisonment and even loss of life. In vain does one point out that the
constitution accords sovereignty to regional states: the bitter reality was that the absolute monopoly
of violence and the unfettered control of the federal government made the TPLF the unrivaled
dominant force. The paradox of all this is that the TPLF’s total rule over the federal government,
especially over its repressive apparatus, engendered a tightly controlled and centralized federal
system. In short, the system was a federalism only in name, that is, a federalism in which the TPLF
ruled by proxy over regional states.
Here, a parallel with the Derg is helpful to explain how the TPLF’s control of state power,
despite its federal form, surpassed even that of the Derg. We noted (see previous chapter) that the
Derg first captured state power and then created a party to enhance its hegemony on all aspects of
social life. In this case, the party acted as an extension of state power, less so as its leader. Also,
the posteriority of the party to the control of state power presented some handicaps, notably as
concerns the ideological commitment of its members. Most members joined the party not so much
to fulfill their revolutionary convictions as to advance their private interests. Accordingly, the
Derg’s party suffered from a noticeable deficiency in ideological rigor and enthusiasm in the
implementation of its program. This deficiency, in turn, did not allow a complete subordination of
the state to the party, and so could be viewed as one of the reasons for the defeat of the Derg. The
trajectory of the TPLF took a reverse course in that the formation of the party preceded for many
years the conquest of state power. The fact that the party was formed during the long and bloody
struggle against the Derg meant that it was composed of members whose ideological commitment
was battle-tested. In other words, since the party, unlike the case of the Derg, conquered the state,
it acted as an uncontested overlord, not as an auxiliary to the state. In establishing its ascendancy
over the state, not only did the anteriority entitle the party to shape independently the state in
accordance with its ideological beliefs and power requirements, but it also enabled the TPLF to
dictate and implement its program by means of a higher level of control over the state.
Modernization, Ethnicity, and Developmentalism

The fact that a group controlled absolute power by banning and eliminating other contending elites
presages that the modernization of the country under the ethnonationalist banner was bound to face
problems analogous to the previous regimes. Since the undivided domination of state power by
one group is also how the group has exclusive access to economic resources, it puts modernization
under conditions severely restricting its expansion. Speaking of the chronic impediment resulting
from the restriction of accesses through an absolute stronghold over power, Christopher Clapham
writes,
The culture of statehood in Ethiopia has long been—and remains—hierarchical and

intolerant of dissent, and imposes limitations which are not only responsible for much of
the conflict from which the country has suffered, but also constitute a significant barrier
(of which more later) to the development enterprise itself.13
In theory, the TPLF’s argument was that ethnic federalism installs the kind of democracy necessary
both to liberate all ethnic groups from the Amhara hegemony and guarantee their equal treatment.
This democratization, in turn, conditions economic growth: not only does it enable the conception
and implementation of a development program that is fair and equal for all ethnic groups, but it
also removes the ascriptive rights and privileges of one group over other groups, thereby ending
the exploitative relations that are responsible for the persistence of poverty. Moreover, ethnic
federalism enables the dominated ethnic groups to protect and develop their identity and culture,
and so restores their self-respect together with their right to self-rule. The purpose of the creation
of regional state units that are demarcated according to ethnic criteria is precisely to provide each
ethnic group the autonomy it needs to carry out self-rule. In practice, however, the political
supremacy of the TPLF and, with it, of the Tigrean elite—supremacy exercised through the control
of the federal government—substantially reduced the promised autonomy by instituting a tightly
centralized system that was, as mentioned above, federal only in name. Individual as well as group
rights were crushed under the weight of the stark dominance of the TPLF.
In the face of this glaring and basic contradiction, the leaders of the TPLF came up with a
proposal that would at least mitigate the contradiction. They offered a trade-off to the people of
Ethiopia: in exchange for the TPLF’s absolute stronghold on power, they promised a rapid
economic development that would equally benefit all Ethiopians. To borrow Clapham’s words,
the conflict between the promise of equality and the political dominance of people from Tigray's
region “imposed a need to seek ‘performance legitimacy’ through a project of economic
transformation.”14 The trade-off was announced through the official adoption of the policy of
developmental state in 2006, the “implementation” of which predates its official announcement.
The late Prime Minister Meles Zenawi, the main ideologue and leader of the TPLF, disclosed his
advocacy for the theory of developmental state in a draft thesis titled “African Development: Dead
Ends and New Beginnings.”
Before reviewing the content of the draft, let us examine the circumstances that led to the
official adoption of the policy. The officialization came after the 2005 parliamentary election in
which a coalition of opposing parties performed so well that it snatched all the seats in the capital
Addis Ababa. The ruling party admitted its defeat in the capital, but claimed that it had the national
majority vote necessary to form a government. The ensuing dispute led to a crackdown, the
outcome of which was that opposition leaders were imprisoned and protesters gunned down. Since
the election had revealed that the regime had lost whatever popularity and credibility it had, some
new defense was needed to justify the continuation of the TPLF’s hegemonic rule and its
heightened recourse to repressive methods. The timing for the official adoption of the policy of
developmental state is, therefore, expressive of the need “to take a swift change of strategy by
forcefully pushing developmentalism. In doing so, the ruling party maintains not only its power
but also its heavy hand on the economy.”15 To the usual claim of protecting ethnic groups against
unitarist and antifederalist forces, supposedly led by the Amhara elite, developmentalism added
the justification of a strong and centralized state as a necessary condition for achieving the
promised economic growth.
The irony of all this is that, even as repression was tightening, Prime Minister Meles argued
for a developmental state that is also democratic. The draft thesis strongly criticizes the neoliberal
model of development that most African countries follow, labeling it as “a dead end” and
“incapable of bringing about the African renaissance.”16 He also goes against the prevailing view
according to which a developmental state is necessarily undemocratic. Not only does Meles contest
the alleged incompatibility of developmental state with democracy, but he also maintains that “a
democratic developmental state is … likely to be even more effective as a developmental state
than an undemocratic one,” for the reason that its policy “would emerge from free debate and
dialogue.”17 How is one to explain this attempt to reconcile democracy with a theory known for
making development conditional on the postponement of democracy, and this soon after the
bloody crackdown of the opposition and the unmistakable shift toward a draconian repressive
policy? No other response comes to mind except to say that the attempted reconciliation was just
a smoke screen, all the more so as the case of such countries as Singapore, South Korea, Taiwan,
and China underlines that the distinctive premise of a developmental state is to maintain that
“democratic reform is only to be undertaken after some degree of economic development.”18 Thus,
according to the unaltered version of the developmental state, democracy is an upshot of
development, not one of its prerequisites.
The need for a smoke screen fully stands out when one sees that the unusual intention of
“combining the notion of developmental state with democracy shows the dilemma of the
incumbent regime and its desire to fit with the need of the pro-west-international system and not
to lose the support of donor agencies.”19 Seeing the tightening of repression after the 2005 election,
the explanation according to which democracy is added for the purpose of reassuring Western
donors rather than for actual implementation is quite plausible. Nevertheless, the explanation
cannot be complete unless an internal need is appended to the external one. Meles has always
maintained that democracy is not so much a matter of choice for Ethiopia as a necessity for its
survival as a united country. Of course, when he says so, he is but reiterating the reason for the
partition of the country along ethnic lines, which remains the cornerstone of the TPLF’s self-
appointed championship of the cause of ethnic groups. The establishment of an ethnic-based
federalism was precisely an arrangement designed to overcome ethnic conflicts by allowing each
ethnic group to govern itself within a clearly demarcated ethnic zone. There should not be any
doubt that Meles considered the arrangement as a democratic solution. He believed so because, in
his mind, the term “democracy” carries a meaning that does not exactly correspond to its Western
understanding. The democracy of Meles is primarily a revolutionary rather than a liberal
democracy; as such, it gives primacy to the assertion and defense of group rights. Put in other
words, his revolutionary democracy subordinates the protection of individual rights, civil liberties,
and political freedoms to group rights. In his eyes, the federal system is democratic, not because it
protects individual rights, but primarily because it grants self-rule to ethnic groups.
Be it noted that the distinction between revolutionary democracy and liberal democracy
goes back to the TPLF’s Marxist-Leninist origins, that is, to the difference between bourgeois
democracy and people’s democracy. Whereas the emphasis on a form of representative
government that protects individual rights and arises from universal suffrage based on free and fair
electoral competitions between political parties defines liberal democracy, people’s democracy
uses revolutionary means to empower the common interests and rights of the working people. This
means that it argues for the supremacy and priority of the collective rights of the working people
over individual freedom and political pluralism, the very ones that privilege diversity of interests
over the homogeneity of collective or group interests. The primacy of the collective is how the
fundamental goal of people’s democracy, namely, equality, is achieved. Summarizing the
application of the principles of revolutionary democracy, one analyst writes: since
the unique political quest in Ethiopia was quest for political rights of nations, nationalities
and peoples of Ethiopia, the political system has to be designed to address this quest.
Hence, there needs to address group rights first, which once addressed, could be possible
to exercise liberal democracy. Revolutionary democracy also emphasizes the need for a
strong leading party that works for those political goals.20
The revolutionary policy of focusing on group rights rather than on individual rights
manifests itself through economic dirigisme geared toward the satisfaction of the collective needs
of ethnic groups. True, this state dirigisme allows the operation of a private sector, but only in its
capacity to assist the state’s overall developmental plan and implementation. The lesson from the
failure of socialist nationalizations is that the state needs the private sector to achieve its economic
goals. Consequently, the strategy of developmental state does not consider private property as a
sacred right (lands remain nationalized in Ethiopia); it permits the operation of a private sector on
condition that the market and the major branches of economic operations remain under the strict
control of the state. Such a restriction makes sure that every economic activity is subordinated to
the needs of the developmental state. In theory, this subordination is none other than a translation
in economic terms of the ascendency of group rights over individual rights.
As concerns political rights, we find the same revolutionary restrictions. Democracy under
the developmental state is not defined by distinct political parties with different social programs
vying for state power in free and fair elections. Nor are different branches of government
empowered to keep each other in check. Just as different governmental branches are reduced to
being merely auxiliaries of the executive power, so too political freedom must not be allowed to
defy revolutionary democracy. There cannot be any limitation to the absolute authority of the
ruling party and its state, since limitation would hamper its abilities to implement its revolutionary
program. We have here a revamp of the Soviet model, but with the difference that the version of
Meles does not go to the extent of banning opposition political parties. It allows them to operate,
but under restricted conditions that practically erase their ability to become serious contenders.
Justifying these restrictions is the reasoning that the developmental state requires that democracy
be monitored by “a dominant party or dominant coalition democracy.”21 The coalition itself must
not be a mere collection of different parties, for it cannot be strong and united unless a vanguard
party leads the coalition itself, the other name for this practice being democratic centralism. Stated
otherwise, it is not a one-party system; it is a system based on a coalition of parties representing
ethnic groups and headed by one dominant party, which is, of course, the TPLF. Describing the
operation of a system combining two contradictory attributes, namely, democracy and centralism,
Theodore M. Vestal writes, “Each member ‘national’ organization has its own parallel leadership
structure, but following the principles of ‘democratic centralism,’ command of the ethnic fronts
effectively remains with the leadership of the EPRDF, which is dominated by the TPLF.”22
Now if we ask the question of knowing why the system does not go all the way to become
a one-party system, several answers are advanced. As we said earlier, there is the need to retain
Western financial, economic, and diplomatic support. In addition to being indispensable to obtain
Western investments and donations, the existence of opposition parties is a safety valve to reduce
social tensions by opening outlets for the venting of grievances. Also, there is the fact that the
system would fail to be “democratic” in the sense of representing various distinct groups if it
operated as a one-party system. Another, already mentioned, reason is that a coalition of parties
under one dominant party fulfills the developmental state’s requirement of “a strong state,” while
remaining “democratic” in the revolutionary sense of the word.23 Only as a strong and centralized
system of power can the state efficiently intervene and implement the program of the dominant
party. Likewise, in being strong, it becomes able to rise above the interests of individuals and
particular groups, and this gives it the backbone to fight rent-seeking. This fight is all the more
necessary as this method of enriching oneself without creating any wealth is a particular threat to
an economy in which the state retains an extensive dirigiste role. State dirigisme opens the door
for the abuse of power and for all kinds of harmful practices, such as corruption, embezzlement,
nepotism, and fraud. In order to prevent these harmful practices, the state must be strong enough
to discipline and sanction its own agents, and this requires the permanent surveillance and punitive
capacity of a dominant party. Lastly, in staying strong, the state can marginalize and weaken
opposition parties, and thus succeed in achieving a stable and lasting government necessary for
the realization of developmental goals.
Choice or Necessity?
Before reviewing the outcomes of the combination of ethnic federalism with the theory of
developmental state, one lingering question must be answered, which is whether ethnic federalism
was adopted because it was necessary or whether it was a choice among other possible alternatives.
As far as the TPLF is concerned, there is not an iota of doubt that necessity dictated the policy. Its
argument is that, by the time of the complete collapse of the state after the defeat of the Derg,
ethnic hostilities had become so severe that Ethiopia could not have avoided the eruption of civil
war without the establishment of ethnic federalism. In thus taking up the mantle of savior, not only
is the TPLF providing a self-serving justification, but it is also giving a description that is not
reflective of the situation of Ethiopia at the time of the collapse of the Derg. The allegation that
Ethiopia was on the verge of a civil war overlooks the fact that most people welcomed the
victorious Tigrean troops because they considered the riddance of the Derg as a deliverance. This
proves that the hostility was against the Derg rather than among ethnic groups. It also ignores the
fact that during the early days of the TPLF’s takeover, nothing that came close to an uprising,
chaotic situation, or ethnic clashes of any importance occurred. If anything, this ascertains that the
present state of hostility among ethnic groups does not so much predate the TPLF’s takeover as
derives from it. Indeed, we have already indicated that the TPLF, as a representative of a minority
ethnic group, could not hope to retain its hegemonic position without a strategy of divide and rule,
and this meant primarily sowing discord between ethnic groups, especially between the two major
groups, to wit, the Amhara and Oromo.
Even if we go along with the idea that some form of federation privileging group identity
was necessary, the way the TPLF conceived and implemented ethnic federalism is far from
confirming the alleged lack of other alternatives. Here, a brief digression is in order. Countries like
India, Switzerland, Canada, and Belgium are cited as living examples of integration of ethnicity
with the requirements of national unity. While Canada and Belgium are referred to as examples of
national integration with lingering issues, Switzerland and India are praised for their successful
merger of unity with diversity. By contrast, the former Soviet Union, which had accorded, as is
now the case in Ethiopia, to every republic in the union “the right freely to secede from the
U.S.S.R” is presented as the model of failed integration.24 Hence the fear of many Ethiopians that
the inclusion of the right to secede in the constitution will put Ethiopia on the same path of
disintegration as the Soviet Union.
In view of the difficulties of Ethiopia, a short parallel between the two successful cases and
Ethiopian ethnic federalism is liable to show whether the path taken by the TPLF was the only
way out even if one concedes that the politicization of ethnicity was unavoidable. Obviously, the
burning question here is the question of knowing how Switzerland and India successfully
accomplished the miracle of marrying diversity with unity. To begin with India, serious studies
attribute the Indian success to the early commitment to both unity and diversity of the Indian
National Congress Party. In its slow move toward independence, the party, which was mostly
composed of Indian elites and educated middle-class citizens, did not harbor the project of
homogenizing India’s linguistic and religious diversity. Speaking of the policy of the party, one
scholar writes: from the start, “the Congress’s sense of nationalism revolves around the
embracement of a pluralistic diversity (language, religion, ethnicity, culture), rather than projecting
a monolithic India or a homogeneous identity.”25 In embracing India’s pluralism, the Congress
was just extending its own internal composition, namely, the fact that it “incorporates people from
diverse ethnic, economic, gender, ideological and religious backgrounds.”26 Because it is itself
multi-ethnic while remaining united, the party came “to be regarded as an ‘umbrella party.’”27 The
consensus is that the existence and rise to power of such a diverse and united party greatly
contributed to the minimization of the polarizing tendency of ethnic identities. As a result, instead
of being divisive, ethnic diversity became the basis of the democratic management of ethnic and
other issues, thereby laying the ground for the establishment of a democratic political system.
As to Switzerland, a development akin to India took place resulting in the formation of “a

highly stable, secure, and functioning” multiethnic nation-state. 28 Based on the principle of elite
accommodation, the Swiss federal system functions according to the rule of power sharing
between the national government and the cantons, a practice granting extensive local autonomy to
the latter. This large autonomy furnishes the basis for the recognition and promotion of Swiss
diversity through the establishment of linguistic regions. The question that comes to mind is how
Switzerland was able to harmonize national identity with linguistic and cultural diversity.
According to the prevailing view, the emergence of a transethnic elite, which emergence seriously
hindered the rise of single language-based parties of any significance, was a major contributing
factor. As one observer writes, “in Switzerland, in contrast to what is happening in Canada, Spain
or Belgium, no major political party is organized on a regional or language basis.”29 The regional
parties that appeared here and there have so far significantly failed to acquire the wide importance
that the big multiethnic parties have. This contrast does validate the view that the sustained
prevalence of multiethnic parties explains the Swiss success. For example, the difficulty that
Canada faces despite the grant of large autonomy to the province of Quebec can be attributed to
the presence of a strong regional party like the Parti Québécois.
The common feature that accounts for the success of integration in India and Switzerland
is clearly the emergence of influential multiethnic elites committed to both national unity and
ethnic diversity. In both cases, rather than assembling disparate groups into an aggregate whole
that could hardly avoid the impression of being an artificial gathering, the recognition of diversity
went from unity to pluralism, and so took the form of a democratic decentralization or
differentiation within the same unit. The formation of strong multiethnic parties that worked
toward the tempering of the divisiveness of identity politics and used democratic principles as the
best and only method to peacefully manage pluralism made the fusion of unity and diversity
possible.
Worth considering here is that the rise of a transethnic elite became almost a reality in the
Ethiopian student movement and in the two parties derived from the movement, namely, the EPRP
and the MEISON. It is known that both parties were not only supportive of national unity while
being quite taken by the necessity of recognizing and defending Ethiopia’s ethnic diversity, but
they were also multiethnic in the composition of their members. Unfortunately, the
uncompromising and undemocratic Leninist ideology that both parties followed, their bloody and
mutually weakening fight against each other, and their defeat by a unitary and despotic military
ruling clique thwarted their development into a full-blown, united, and winning transethnic party.
Their decline and subsequent insignificance opened the door for the proliferation of ethnicized
elites. With the defeat of the Derg under the combined assaults of Eritrean and Tigrean
ethnonationalist armed forces, a new political phase began that took pride in dismantling unity so
as to liberate and promote, so the TPLF claimed, the suppressed and abused ethnic groups of
Ethiopia. In other words, the importance that ethnic politics has acquired in today’s Ethiopia is an
elite-made phenomenon subsequent to conditions frustrating the consolidation of transethnic
Ethiopian elites. As constructivism argues, in Ethiopia like anywhere else, ethnic animosity is a
construct arising from definite social conditions, not a natural trait.
Lastly, if one wants to know why the TPLF, as the main force and organizer of the ethnic
fragmentation, took the path of constituting the Ethiopian state via the gathering of ethnic groups
rather than the opposite direction of moving from unity to diversity, as did India and Switzerland,
there is only one possible answer. As a representative of a minority ethnic group with the goal of
achieving full hegemonic control of the country, the TPLF knew, as said previously, that the
promotion of a transethnic elite would not provide it with the proper place to accomplish its goal.
Notably, the importance of Amhara and Oromo elites had to be neutralized through a sustained
policy of divide and rule. Once division is championed as the chosen method to achieve hegemony,
unity becomes the enemy. As whatever unites elites is contrary to the interest of the TPLF, it
naturally turned its back on any project supporting the constitution of a strong and organized
transethnic elite. This explains the formation, not of a united ruling party, but of the EPRDF, which
was a coalition of distinct parties under the dominant control of the TPLF. By maintaining the
ethnic cleavages within itself, the ruling party deliberately deprived itself of the possibility of
evolving into a pan-Ethiopian party. This lack of a strong transethnic political party consecrated
the TPLF as the overlord of the coalition while the representatives of the major ethnic groups were
at each other’s throats.
Assessment and Outcomes

The results of the developmental state, as conceived and implemented by Meles and his successors
after his death, are, according to many scholars, a very mixed bag. On the one hand, a scholar like
Clapham speaks of a startling economic performance, since “over the period from 2000 to 2013,”
Ethiopia achieved “a gross domestic product (GDP) growth rate of 9.5% a year.”30 International
organizations, like the World Bank and United Nations Development Program, have provided
statistics matching Clapham’s numbers. On the other hand, many scholars underline that this
economic performance came with severe downsides. Besides the special privileges enjoyed by
senior members of the TPLF and Tigrean elites in general, the most obvious downside is the
“colossal gap between the rich and the poor” as well as between “urban and rural areas.”31 This
scandalous disparity paints a clear picture: excluded from economic growth, the great majority of
the people remained stuck in poverty, while a tiny minority, who mostly operated in cahoots with
officials of the ruling party, exorbitantly enriched itself. Among the drawbacks, we also find such
negative outcomes as a critical foreign currency shortage, an acute trade deficit, rampant
corruption, a soaring inflation rate, and a crushing foreign debt. If one adds to all this the cost to
freedom of a heavy-handed interventionist government, one fairly wonders whether the trade-off
of economic improvement for absolute power was not a fool’s bargain. Seeing the disastrous
impact of these negative fallouts on the conditions of life of ordinary people, it is baffling to read
here and there high praises for the economic performance of the regime. All the more reason for
saying so is that the majority of Ethiopian people did not agree with the praises, since their
frustration caused a nationwide political crisis that translated into sustained protests against the
government in various parts of the country. The attempts of the government to violently quell the
protests repeatedly failed. On April 2, 2018, the election of a new prime minister of Oromo origin,
Abiy Ahmed, ended the hegemony of the TPLF.
The inability of economic growth to reach ordinary people exposes the lack of factors that
are decisive for the success of the model of developmental state. Thus, for many scholars, an
important missing piece was the development of “meritocratic and autonomous bureaucracy.”32
Not only did the Ethiopian system favor the promotion of members of the ruling party in the
bureaucracy and other positions of responsibility, but also those promoted did not have the proper
academic and professional skills, not to mention their questionable moral caliber. True, the regime
encouraged the opening of schools and universities in various places, but the quality of education
given at various levels of the educational establishment was alarmingly low in terms of qualified
teaching staff, students’ aptitudes and readiness, and adequate infrastructure. As to the autonomy
of the bureaucracy, the regime completely ignored that the success of the developmental state
greatly depends on professional bureaucrats directing and supervising the economy rather than the
cadre of the ruling party. The consequence is that the criterion of political and personal loyalism
single-handedly determined ministerial, managerial, and bureaucratic appointments to the
determinant of merit, skill, and professionalism. The extensive use of the criterion directly
contradicted the developmental state’s rejection of clientelism and its express advocacy of
efficiency and professionalism in exchange for handsome remunerations. All the drawbacks
previously mentioned, the privileging of Tigrean elites, rampant corruption, soaring inflation,
heavy foreign debt, scandalous enrichment of the few at the expense of the many, etc., are all
caused, directly or indirectly, by the predominant role given to a highly politicized bureaucracy
devoid of the qualities required to implement the strategy of developmental state, like
professionalism, merit-based appointment, efficiency, and dedication to national development
rather than to the interests of ethnonationalist political elites.
More needs to be said about loyalty because it provides one of the keys to the question of
knowing why the TPLF, despite the appearance of firm control over the country, collapsed in a
short time. Though at the time of its capture of power, the TPLF looked united, ideologically well-
grounded, and benefited from a competent leadership, as years passed, its ideological rigor
diminished and its members, especially those in leadership positions, appeared more interested in
amassing wealth by any means, including corruption, embezzlement, and other kinds of illegal
practices, while also engaging in internal disputes through the formation of factions. At the same
time, the collective leadership of the party was weakening and inexorably leaning toward the
ascendancy of one of its leaders, to wit, Meles, who was Chairman of the party and Prime Minster
since 1995. The unstoppable evolution of the party toward the unchallenged rule of one man made
a significant leap in 1998 when an extremely bloody war against Eritrea over border disputes broke
out. The war lasted almost two years and ended with a peace agreement that failed to appease the
existing hostility for the reason that Meles refused to implement a major clause of the agreement.
Notably, he rejected the ruling of the Permanent Court of Arbitration in the Hague awarding the
contested area of Badme to Eritrea.
The conduct of the war and the terms of the agreement heightened divisions within the
TPLF and resulted in the expulsion of 12 important members from the Central Committee. This
expulsion enabled Meles to tighten his control over the party and place his most loyal followers in
various crucial positions. The fact that loyalty to Meles became the overriding criterion meant the
demotion of other criteria, like merit, professionalism, and ideological commitment, and this in
conjunction with Meles closing his eyes to, if not secretly encouraging, all sorts of corrupt
practices. In consequence, by the time Meles became ill and died in 2012, the party was in a
shamble. It suffered from internal divisions, generalized corruption of its highest members, and
declining ideological dedication, not to mention the background of a mounting popular
disillusionment over its failed policies. In the face of these simmering crises, one would expect
that the party would try to reform itself. Though there were talks of reform, nothing of the kind
happened: the party was paralyzed by internal divisions, incompetence, and willful ignorance of
the coming danger. This is to say that all the qualities that the party had developed during its long
struggle against the Derg were sacrificed to ensure the absolute power of Meles, a too familiar
trend of Ethiopian politics, the very one that also incapacitated the imperial regime and the Derg.
In addition to the general weakening of the party and the deficiency of professionalism in
all sectors of social life, the other reason for the failure of the TPLF is the lack of a vision uniting
the country. In a social context defined by the absence of a “unifying ideology,” owing to the
prevalence of ethnic identity that the government purposely encouraged and cemented by the
establishment of ethnic federalism, the implementation of the strategy of developmental state is
hardly an achievable project.33 It becomes an impossible project when, in addition to the absence
of a unifying vision, the implementing party is divided, as was the case after the death of Meles.
Where national identity has been weakened, nay discredited, rivalries between ethnic groups and
the subsequent use of the ethnic criterion to access power and wealth undermine fair competitive
conducts at all levels of social life. Similarly, the commitment to ethnic identity goes against the
very goal of a strong national state and privileges regional interests. It thus prevents a genuine
application of the theory of developmental state, which necessitates, as we saw, a strong and
authoritarian state, that is, a state that enjoys financial autonomy, is free of internal cleavages and
frictions, and is not threatened by a strong opposition. The imperative of a strong state also means
a state equipped with effective institutions so that it can soar above particular social forces. Only
thus can it direct economic forces toward national development and have enough leverage to
prevail over adverse and corrupting forces.
The other missing requirement of the development state model is “a partnership between a
strong government and a strong private sector.”34 In Ethiopia, because the private sector is very
weak, the main agent of the development effort remains the state, and this can only adversely affect
the goal of a successful outcome. Rather than the practice of partnership with the private sector,
what we had in Ethiopia was to a large extent a state-driven economy. Moreover, the ascendancy
of the state had been deliberately skewed in favor of the dominant party, since conglomerates that
have close ethnic and political ties with those holding the rein of power were given absolute
priority and preferential treatment. Thus, METEC (Metals and Engineering Corporation) and
EFFORT (Endowment Fund for the Rehabilitation of Tigray), to name but the most important
ones, dominated the market. Directly managed by senior members of the party, these TPLF-owned
conglomerates extended their activities in numerous and crucial agricultural and industrial
productions as well as in service areas, such as banking, insurance, and import/export. There is no
denying that the provision of political support to these TPLF-controlled businesses structurally
distorted the free operation of the market. The distortion encouraged the wide practice of
corruption and embezzlement, given that enterprises owned by businesspersons who are not
ethnically related or politically affiliated to the ruling Tigrean elite cannot hope to do business
without bribing officials of the regime.
Exposing the faulty implementations of the strategy of developmental state does no more
than reconfirm that the strategy was used not so much for the expected economic benefits as for
its political gains. The proof of this is that nothing was being done to correct the flaws, even after
they were openly acknowledged, as mentioned earlier, both during Meles’s rule and after his death.
The political benefits protrude when we recall that the official adoption of the developmental state
model occurred after the 2005 election’s results ascertained that opposition forces scored well. To
the extent that the developmental state calls for a dominant party, it could be used to weaken
opposition forces without having recourse to the internationally condemned one-party system.
What is more, the distorted use of the model of development assigns a major economic role to the
state and allows it to control immense resources, thereby laying the foundation of a neopatrimonial
state, that is, a state pervaded with patron-client networks. Since such networks privilege the leader
and his party, they are well suited for the hegemonic needs of Meles and his party. In maintaining
followers and supporters in a dependent position, the system ensured their loyalty.
This loyalty, in turn, substituted for the missing crucial component of developmental state,
namely, national unity. Having deliberately fragmented Ethiopia along ethnic lines for the
implementation of a divide-and-rule strategy—the only way by which a minority ethnic group can
have and retain an upper hand—the allocation of rewards for loyalty to Meles and his party became
the only incentive to lessen the fragmented state of ethnicized elites. Unbelievable as it may seem,
instead of basing national unity on shared history, acquired common features, and the willingness
to partake in a promising common future, Meles and his party sought to replace these standard
binding ties of nation-building with an interest-driven agreement between ethnicized elites under
the unrivaled ascendancy of the TPLF, to which, naturally, goes the lion’s share in the access to
opportunities and appropriation of resources. Contrasting the success of East Asia developmental
states with the failure of the Ethiopian version, Francis Fukuyama notes that “they [East Asian
countries] already had state systems and identities that could then be the basis for economic
takeoff. This, obviously, is not the situation of Ethiopia, where national identity is very
contested.”35 The intention of implementing the theory of developmental state in a social context
where national identity is deliberately undermined by the promotion of ethnicity was a
contradiction in terms from the start. It makes sense only when the deceptive intent of using a
promising theory of development for the purpose of justifying and reinforcing a hegemonic
political project is brought to light.
To conclude, all those factors that strengthen the autonomy of individuals and institutions,
such as merit-based social mobility, a vibrant private sector, an autonomous and depoliticized
bureaucracy, and a unifying national identity, have been stifled in favor of an ethnicized state that
controls everything. Once again, the compulsion to justify and consolidate a hegemonic system of
power hijacked the modernization of Ethiopia. Indeed, Haile Selassie used selectively, as we saw,
modernization to build an imperial autocracy; Mengistu destroyed the civilian left and decapitated
Ethiopian institutions to achieve the absolute power deemed necessary to build socialism; Meles
fragmented Ethiopia along ethnic lines to establish the supremacy of one dominant ethnic party.
In all these cases, the victim is the proven propitious policy of power-sharing and democratic
inclusiveness. The wrong-headed intent of monopolizing power led to the same vicious circle in
each of these cases: the obsession with absolute power hinders modernization, which hindrance
intensifies the need for the absolute control of the state as a sine qua non for the grabbing of
resources rendered scarce by the self-serving misuses of modernization measures.
1
John W. Harbeson, The Ethiopian Transformation: The Quest for the Post-Imperial State (Boulder: Westview Press,
1988), 2.
2
Bonnie K. Holcomb and Sisai Ibssa, The Invention of Ethiopia (Trenton, N.J.: The Red Sea Press, 1990), 329.
3
Marina and David Ottaway, Ethiopia: Empire in Revolution (New York: Africana Publishing Company, 1978), 28.
4
Richard H. Thompson, Theories of Ethnicity (New York: Greenwood Press, 1989), 37.
5
Ibid., p. 4.
6
Harvey Glickman, “Conclusion: Managing Democratic Ethnic Competition,” Ethnic Conflict and Democratization
in Africa, ed. Harvey Glickman (Atlanta, Georgia: The African Studies Association Press, 1995), 401.
7
Ronald R. Atkinson, “The (Re) Construction of Ethnicity in Africa: Extending the Chronology, Conceptualization
and Discourse,” in Ethnicity and Nationalism in Africa: Constructivist Reflections and Contemporary Politics, ed.
Paris Yeros (New York: St. Martin Press, Inc., 1999), 23
8
Crawford Young, “The Dialectics of Cultural Pluralism: Concept and Reality,” in The Rising Tide of Cultural
Pluralism, ed. Crawford Young (Madison: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1993), 22
9
Aregawi Berhe, A Political History of the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (1975-1991) (Los Angeles: Tsehai
Publishers, 2009), 307.
10
“Ethiopia's Constitution of 1994,” constituteproject.org (27 April 2022)
https://www.constituteproject.org/constitution/Ethiopia_1994.pdf
11
“Constitution of the United States” Library of Congress (August 15, 2020)
https://constitution.congress.gov/constitution/
12
Ibid., “Constitution of 1994.”
13
Christopher Clapham, “The Ethiopian developmental state,” Third World Quarterly 39, no. 6 (2018): 1152.
14
Ibid., p. 1154.
15
Ayenachew Woldegiyorgis, “The Ethiopian Developmental State and Its Challenges” SSRN (June 1, 2014)
https://ssrn.com/abstract=2512907
16
Meles Zenawi, “Africa’s development: dead ends and new beginnings,” Ethiopian Treasures (2006)
https://www.africanidea.org/m_zenawi_aug_9_2006.pdf
17
Ibid.
18
Semahagn Abebe, “The Developmental State Model in Ethiopia: A Path to Economic Prosperity or Political
Repression?,” Social Evolution & History 17, no. 1 (March 2018): 125.
19
“Ethiopian: A Democratic Developmental state?” Essay Sauce (24 July 2019)
https://www.essaysauce.com/economics-essays/ethiopia-a-democratic-developmental-state/
20
Habtamu Demiessie, “Unfolding the Ongoing Political Dynamics in Ethiopia: Why the Departure of TPLF and Its
Doctrine is Important,” MPRA Paper (December 5, 2020)
MPRA_paper_104543.pdf (uni-muenchen.de)
21
Zenawi, “Africa’s development: dead ends and new beginnings.”
22
Theodore M. Vesta, Ethiopia: A Post-Cold War African State (Westport, CT.: Praeger Publishers, 1999), 104.
23
Zenawi, “Africa’s development: dead ends and new beginnings.”
24
“1936 Constitution of the USSR, Chapter II,” Standford University (1996).
http://large.stanford.edu/history/kaist/references/marx/beard/c2/
25
Piyanat Soikham, “Revisiting a Dominant Party: Normative dynamics of the Indian National Congress,” Asian
Journal of Comparative Politics 4, no.1 (2019): 32.
26
Ibid., 35.
27
Ibid.
28
Alexandre Wilner, “The Swiss-ification of Ethnic Conflict: Historical Lessons in Nation-Building from the Swiss
Example,” Queen's University (2009)
https://ojs.library.queensu.ca/index.php/fedgov/article/download/4397/4412/8069
29
Stéphane Dion, How To Explain Switzerland’s Linguistic Harmony? Government of Canada ( Nov. 3, 2020)
https://www.international.gc.ca/country_news-pays_nouvelles/2021-11-02-germany-allemagne.aspx?lang=eng
30
Clapham, “The Ethiopian developmental state,” 1151.
31
Endalcachew Bayeh, “Developmental State of Ethiopia: Reflections on the Costs of Viewing Economic Growth as
a Governance Criterion,” RUDN Journal of Political Science 24, no.4 (2019): 648.
32
Ayenachew, “The Ethiopian Developmental State and its Challenges”
33
Francis Fukuyama, “Democracy and the Future of Ethiopia’s Developmental State Conference,” CIPE Remarks,
(June 11, 2019),
https://www.cipe.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/10/Keynote-Transcript-Francis-Fukuyama.pdf
34
Ibid.
35
Ibid.
Chapter X
Where to, Ethiopia?
In the wake of the dethronement of the TPLF, Ethiopia was presented with four options arising
from the implementation of ethnonationalist ideology and policies for 27 years. The options have
generated politico-ideological movements that compete for the seizure of power in Ethiopia.
Broadly speaking, these movements can be viewed as different stands in relation to Article 39 of
the constitution granting ethnic groups an unconditional right to self-determination, including
secession (see previous chapter). Let us briefly examine the four positions with the view of clearly
demarcating the lines separating them.
Antithetical Stands
Directly stemming from the 27 years of ethnonationalist championing, the first option wants to
bring the deconstruction of Ethiopia’s national unity to its logical denouement, namely, the
dismantlement of the state. It intends to do so by demanding the unconditional and outright
application of Article 39 of the constitution recognizing each ethnic group’s right to self-
determination and even secession. This position is known to be the long-standing goal of a major
fraction of the Oromo Liberation Front and was voiced by some Oromo during the protests against
the TPLF. Other but less important ethnonationalist parties express a similar demand, like
the Ogaden National Liberation Front.
In addition to rejecting the hegemonic position of the TPLF, the second option calls for the
abrogation of the ethnic fragmentation of the Ethiopian people. Known as Ethiopianism, the
position advocates the reassertion of Ethiopians as one people while adding that oneness does not
mean homogeneity. Ethiopianism includes diversity and recognizes the rights associated with it,
but insists that the exercise and defense of these rights do not necessitate the formation of distinct
ethnic states, which is fatal for national unity, still less the recourse to secession. Democratic
arrangements working in tandem with the respect of individual rights can perfectly handle the
implementation and defense of diversity rights.
The third option, too, calls for the reaffirmation of national unity, but does not go to the
extent of abolishing the ethnic states established by the Ethiopian Constitution. It upholds self-
rule, which is deemed necessary to defend diversity rights and develop the particularities of each
ethnic group. It considers diversity as a blessing and rejects its alleged opposition to national unity.
Best represented by the concept of medemer (synergy), as articulated by Prime Minister Abiy
Ahmed himself in his book, Medemer, the vision takes root in the ethnic division of Ethiopia, but
aspires to transcend the division toward unity stemming from the cooperation of ethnic groups for
the common good. According to Dr. Abiy, medemer is “the key solution to our country’s
problems.”1 It rests on three interrelated basic principles, namely, the safeguarding of “national
unity,” “the respect of citizens,” and the pursuit of “prosperity.”2 The union based on these
principles is not a mere sum of distinct parts; it is a common will to achieve through cooperative
togetherness equality, democracy, and prosperity. In basing unity on a common stake, the ideology
hopes to mend the broken ties between Ethiopians and reignite all the affective and psychological
components that accompany national commitment. In his attempt to resurrect the binding features
of national unity, Abiy frequently praises continuity and reformism, and so supports changes that
line up with historical continuity, as opposed to the destructive nature of revolutionary changes.
Notwithstanding the understandable ethnic grudges against the past, he underlines the virtue of the
inheritance of Ethiopian history and the role that all Ethiopian ethnic groups played in the survival
of Ethiopia. He also emphasizes the common traits that they have developed by living together
and the bright future that they can have by continuing their cooperative partnership.
The fourth choice comprises those who are very supportive of the existing ethnic
federalism while at the same time opposing the disintegration of Ethiopian unity. What separates
them from Abiy’s position is the condition they set for the system to work. According to them, the
Prime Minister’s principle of cooperative togetherness cannot avoid disintegration unless there is
one dominant group that keeps the ethnic units together. The TPLF understood this requirement
and became the dominant group in the governing ethnic coalition. The problem, however, was that
the TPLF represented a minority ethnic group so that its dominance could not shake off the tag of
usurpation. We recognize here the position of extremist Oromo ethnonationalists: some of them
are organized into non-armed political parties, others into fighting guerrilla forces, and still others
secretly operate in government institutions and in social and economic organizations. Relying on
the assumption that the Oromo represent the largest ethnic group, they argue that their
representatives should legitimately have the dominant role in an association composed of distinct
ethnic groups. Be it noted that these Oromo groups are not alone in this quest for dominance: other
ethnic elite groups also compete for hegemony. Thus, the TPLF cannot be said to have given up
its ambition to become again the dominant force, a fact corroborated by its November 2020
military assaults on Ethiopian forces with the view of marching on Addis Ababa. A similar trend
is observed among the Amhara: though recent, Amhara ethnonationalism, that is, a separatist
nationalism or one seeking dominance, is a phenomenon unquestionably on the rise and spreading
like wildfire.
The current manifold crises, namely, the numerous displacements of people, the violent
attacks on selected ethnic groups, in particular on Amhara settlers, the guerrilla-style
confrontations in various parts of the country, the recent eruption of an open armed fight between
government troops and the militia known as Fano in the Amhara region, and the persistence of the
northern tension despite the signed peace agreement, result from the clash between the four
positions. For now, the third position of medemer, which is the official position of the ruling
Prosperity Party, has the upper hand, but a large section of its Oromo component is pulling toward
the fourth position of extreme ethnonationalism.
Assessing Medemer
In light of the mentioned serious conflicts and plights ripping the country apart, the whole question
is to know whether the concrete policy that would result from the implementation of medemer
principle will indeed restore national unity and materialize the promised prosperity. Even if it is
too early to make any comprehensive and final assessment of Abiy’s government, the major
hurdles that his politico-economic agenda is facing are already quite visible. The thing to
remember here is that most, if not all, of these hurdles do not stem solely from Abiy’s policy; many
10 WHERE TO, ETHIOPIA? 127
of them are structural remnants from the previous TPLF’s government. As such, the main issue is
to know whether the policy put in place is liable, assuming that it will be pursued with
determination, to both overcome these hurdles and significantly reduce ethnic conflicts.
The most important point to consider is that the realization of any modernizing plan
squarely depends on the restoration of peace and security. Unfortunately, since Abiy came to
power, as already alluded to, Ethiopia has been the theatre of a full-scale war in its northern part
that also spread into Amhara and Afar regions, following the sudden attacks of TPLF’s troops on
Ethiopian garrisons stationed in Tigray. As though this were not enough, another war specifically
confined to the Amhara region has erupted recently. Elsewhere, guerrilla type of warfare is
ongoing, as in some parts of Oromia. Additionally, in Oromia and other parts of the country, mass
killings and numerous displacements of people have periodically occurred and are still occurring
with even greater intensity. In short, hate-spreading ethnonationalist political movements, be they
armed or not, constantly disrupt peace and security. Apart from the situation in the Amhara region,
which is still undecided, the Ethiopian military and regional security forces have so far been able
to defeat the assaults of the TPLF and push back guerrilla attacks in other parts of the country.
Even so, the question remains whether Abiy’s government will ever be able to permanently defeat
extremist ethnonationalist forces and respond satisfactorily to Amhara grievances (see next
paragraphs) without angering his Oromo base, thereby establishing a stable peace in Ethiopia.
Many critics are skeptical and advance the argument that an effective fight that could weed
out extremist ethnonational forces while satisfying the legitimate demands of various ethnicities,
especially of Oromo and Amhara ethnic groups, cannot be waged without a constitutional revision
abolishing the ethnic divide between regional states. So long as ethnic federalism is the law of the
land, it will continue to feed on and spread ethnonationalism. Praising the virtues of social synergy
is not enough for people to embrace unity while ethnic institutions and modes of thinking
determine their concrete day-to-day life. It is like asking people not to breathe the smoke that is
filling the room in which they are. A proof of this is the not-so-successful result of Abiy’s attempt
to unite the ruling coalition of ethnic parties, previously known as the EPRDF, into one party under
the name of Prosperity Party. Every day that passes shows that the party is one only in name, that
its members and leaders think and connect as representatives of distinct and rival ethnic groups.
Once ethnic politics is legalized, there is no getting around it. That is why, convinced of the
stubbornly divisive nature of ethnic politics, many African countries chose to outlaw ethnic parties.
The counterargument that Abiy’s government and supporters make is that the riddance of
ethnic federalism will imperil all the advantages accruing from the formation of ethnic states. Some
of those advantages are: self-rule with the possibility for each ethnic group to develop its language
and culture, a practical and constitutionally protected recognition as a distinct group, as opposed
to being only member of a pan-Ethiopian identity, and the attendant equal treatment arising from
the recognition. Moreover, the banning of identity politics would wreck the relative peace that is
prevailing, so that the proposed solution would make the situation much worse. For any impartial
observer, it is hardly possible not to agree with the assessments of Abiy and the ruling party.
Undoubtedly, many ethnicized elite groups will greet the elimination of ethnic states as a loss of
many already acquired rights, and this will further undermine the existing fragile social peace.
Underestimating the ethnic ethos is a dangerous position: ethnicity in Ethiopia is not just a passing
whim; it has developed deeper roots and is reflective of engrained regional interests of elites. As a
result, the future of Ethiopia and the success of its modernization highly depend on the ability of
its political elites to reconcile the requirements of national unity with those of ethnicity. The two,
that is, national unity and dedication to ethnic identity cannot simply coexist; they must harmonize
in such a way that they cease to be discordant.
Harmonization presupposes the mitigation of ethnic hostilities, and one way of doing so is
by planning and rapidly achieving strong economic growth. Given that widespread poverty, youth
unemployment, and regional inequalities feed ethnic animosity, in the precise sense that the
common leitmotif of ethnic discourses is to point out a distinct group as the culprit for one’s group
deprivation, an improvement in conditions of life is surely liable to tone down the appeal of
ethnonationalist discourses and grievances. In this regard, despite some timely reforms and the
launching of projects to boost economic growth, the most prominent being the decision to finish
the grand Abay dam, the hurdles confronting Abiy are, in the main, the same as during the TPLF’s
rule. They are massive unemployment, scandalous disparities between rich and poor as well as
between urban and rural sectors, soaring inflation, huge foreign debts, mostly incurred by the
previous regime, etc. Even if some measures of privatization are taken, all in all, changes that can
be considered structural have not yet taken place. For instance, land, rural as well as urban, remains
nationalized and will remain so as long as the constitutional principle according to which “land is
a common property of the Nations, Nationalities and Peoples of Ethiopia and shall not be subject
to sale or to other means of exchange”3 stays in place. Nothing indicates that this state of things is
likely to change in the near future. With the status of land ownership unchanged, the already
considerable authority of the state in economic and financial matters will remain as extensive and
heavy-handed as in the previous government, with the consequence that it will hold back the
development of the private sector. Moreover, rent-seeking activities are as rampant, if not more
rampant, as in the previous regime. Though the government regularly admonishes bad behaviors,
like corruption, embezzlement, and nepotism, nothing concrete is really done to deter such
behaviors.
A huge part of the problem has to do with the lack of adequate instruments to fight rent-
seeking and related detrimental conducts like corruption. Doubtless, the occurrence of a peaceful
transmission of power from the TPLF to Abiy’s premiership and the latter’s commitment to
continuity and reformism constitute positive changes. Nonetheless, positive as the changes were,
they had a deleterious side, which is that the appointed cabinet as well as the leadership and rank
and files of Prosperity Party did not undergo any significant personnel change. Likewise, the last
parliamentary election did not bring about any noticeable change: with some exceptions, it
maintained in power the same party, with the same overwhelming majority and almost the same
people. This absence of elite renewal naturally opens the door for the persistence of old habits of
thinking and behaviors that stand in the way of real change, not to mention the perseverance of a
strong tendency to protect vested interests. Closely associated with all this is the saliency of
clientelism: both the existence of entrenched political leaders and the ethnic partiality due to the
importance accorded to the ethnic criterion go against the norm of merit in appointments to
political, managerial, economic, military, and bureaucratic positions. Needless to say, clientelism
counters professionalism and competence, without which modernization is anything but
achievable, especially when the enacted policy gives a major and leading role to the state.
This shortage of competence is all the more alarming, since schools and higher educational
institutes still suffer, as pointed out in the previous chapter, from their all-round deficiencies and
appalling low quality. This state of things is most wearisome because changing the educational
system and raising its standard, if indeed there is such a will, cannot happen in a short time. Worse
yet, in the same vein as in politics, the ethnicization of education is harder to overcome: since it
continues to breed division and distrust among younger generations, it makes the realization of the
modernization project all the more difficult.
Finally, the various obstacles against which the progress of democratization routinely
stumbles further aggravate the difficulties of Abiy’s government. Abiy repeatedly pledged his
commitment to implement a truly democratic system, convinced, as he seemed to be, that real
democratization is the best antidote against the divisive nature of ethnicity. Despite an undeniable
improvement compared to the previous regime, at least during the first years of Abiy’s
premiership, the progress of democratization seems to encounter increasing restrictions. Thus,
neither federal instances nor regional states really respect the principles of fair and free elections.
For instance, according to credible reports, the dominant party in some regional states engaged in
harassments and threats to prevent pan-Ethiopian parties from competing in the last national
parliamentary election. Similarly, intimidation and even, at times, imprisonment restrict the
practice of freedom of speech, and this is most unfortunate because of the absence of an
independent judiciary and a police force abiding by the rules of law. Many critics go even further
by suggesting that “Abiy’s government has turned into a dictator government,” thereby following
the footsteps of its predecessors.4 For some of the critics, one should all the more expect the
inevitability of this evolution, given that Abiy has a personality that one author describes as “an
almost messianic phenomenon.”5 The belief that Ethiopia’s future rests on his shoulders can
degenerate into the need to be always right, which is conducive to a progressive loss of touch with
reality.
Against these accusations, defenders of Abiy retort that any denunciation of his policy must
take into account the prevailing volatile political situation. For one thing, as regards the last
election, there was no widespread criticism accusing the dominant party’s huge victory of being
marred with frauds and manipulations. For another, to avoid the explosion of violence, the
government has no choice but to dissuade, ban, and even prosecute individuals, groups, and parties
that spread extremist ideologies and hate. With extremist ideologies, it is often difficult to tell
where free speech ends and where incitement to violence starts. As to the charge of messianism,
Abiy’s proponents interpret it as a strong commitment to the integrity and prosperity of Ethiopia.
In any case, nothing is really new here: many emperors, including Menelik and Haile Selassie, saw
their rise to imperial power as a messianic assignment. Messianism is more a national character
than an idiosyncratic incident. Recall how the myth of equality and justice of socialism fired up
Ethiopia’s younger generations in the 70s.
Be that as it may, the point that must not be lost, according to Abiy’s proponents, is that
criticisms of Abiy and his government must be balanced against the complex and deeply
entrenched problems inherited from the previous regimes, notably from the TPLF. In addition to
the deterioration of national unity and the culture of ethnic partisanship, it was during the rule of
the TPLF that rent-seeking and related practices such as corruption and nepotism became
widespread among state officials and employees. Moreover, an assessment of the progress of
democratization that discounts the prevailing condition is little objective. Notably, it does not
acknowledge that, at this juncture of Ethiopia’s transition to a post-TPLF era, measures to restore
lasting peace and unity and activate economic progress matter more than the full deployment of
democracy. In brief, the full implementation of democracy necessitates, if not the removal of some
of the salient problems inherited from the previous regimes, at least the abatement of their asperity.
In the mind of Abiy’s supporters, what deserves the highest attention is that no better
alternative to Abiy’s government and policy is emerging at this moment. Opposition parties either
profess extremist ideologies or are so divided that they are unable to form a front offering a credible
alternative. Consequently, many people endorse the argument that the removal of Abiy’s
government will certainly lead to renewed and extensive violent clashes, even probably to civil
war, the outcome of which will surely be the disintegration of Ethiopia. Therefore, seeing what is
at stake and considering the longer time needed for the implementation of Abiy’s reform agenda,
the best position is to refrain from making any final judgment at this stage. Accordingly, if one
were to consider the average position among Abiy’s supporters, one would say that, in agreement
with Jonathan Fisher, the majority holds that “a critical appraisal of Abiy’s leadership must take
into account the immense challenges of governing a state as diverse and complex as modern
Ethiopia.”6
Policy Volte-Face or Stratagem?

What proponents say would be worth cogitating were it not for the fact that Prime Minister Abiy,
who had so far declared his intention to navigate the moderate middle course in line with medemer
principle, seems increasingly determined to effect an adjustment in the direction of Oromo
ethnonationalists. On the one hand, he does not want to question the existence of ethnic states, the
apparent reason being the fear that calling into question ethnic federalism will ignite sustained
protests and violent uprisings in Oromia and other parts of the country. On the other hand, he says
that he is aware of the danger of the ethnic divide for the unity of the country and of its drawbacks
in achieving peace, economic development, and a liberal—as opposed to revolutionary—form of
democracy.
For Abiy’s opponents, far from alleviating ethnic tensions and the economic plight of
working people and discouraging harmful behaviors, Abiy’s wavering position has exasperated
them. Worse yet, all the mentioned challenges pale in comparison to the highest danger stemming
from the real possibility of the Oromo wing of Prosperity Party, under the tacit consent, if not
encouragement, of Abiy himself, fully succumbing to ethnonationalist extremism. We have
already alluded to the strong sympathy of many members of the wing for the theory supporting the
need for a dominant group to run a country divided along ethnic lines. Until recently, the prevailing
belief was that the moderate stand of Abiy would keep under control his own party’s temptation
to assume the role and rank of the dominant partner. However, basing themselves on some of
Abiy’s latest positions and decisions that seem to favor the Oromo, many critics increasingly speak
of a shift of policy, while others counterargue by saying that the so-called shift is actually an
uncovering of Abiy’s original belief. To illustrate the shift or the unveiling, critics say that, under
Abiy, Ethiopia witnessed the following turn of events: recurring displacements and mass killings
of Amhara who had settled for many decades in Oromia; the attempt to impose Oromo language
and culture in Addis Ababa’s schools and other official places, not to mention the looming threat
of integration of the capital into Oromia; the plan to break up the unity of the Orthodox Church so
as to create a rival Oromo church; the determination to single out and forcefully disperse Amhara
regional forces; the crusade, which often results in arbitrary arrests and imprisonments, against
Amhara activists, political leaders, media, and parliamentarians, even though the latter have
constitutional immunity against prosecution, while giving their Oromo counterparts carte blanche;
the recent conciliatory attitude of Abiy and the Oromo wing of Prosperity Party––some even speak
of close cooperation––toward the TPLF, which attitude can only work to the detriment of Amhara
interests, especially as regards the issue of contested territories, etc. To crown it all, these policy
changes culminated in the deployment of the full armed forces of the government against the
Amhara resistant fighting force known as Fano and the eruption of war in the Amhara region.
Those who speak of shift see the recent policy decisions as deviations from medemer’s
basic principle of equal treatment of all ethnic units and the ultimate generation of a trans-ethnic
Ethiopian national unity. No such unity is possible if one of the units receives preferential
treatment. Those who think that the shift was in reality an unveiling retort that the pan-
Ethiopianism of Abiy was just a cover-up until the consolidation of his power. The imperative of
obtaining the support of other ethnic groups, especially the Amhara, to rebuild the state and reform
its military and repressive forces in accordance with his needs explains the adoption of a pretend
pan-Ethiopian attitude, mostly reflected in Abiy’s various public speeches.
To understand Abiy’s manifest inconsistencies, many among his detractors are
increasingly appealing to the personality disorder known as narcissism. For them, there is no doubt
that Abiy’s sense of self-importance, his need for admiration, his longing for total control, his
cavalier attitude toward the truth, etc., betray a narcissistic personality.7 As we saw, other critics
associate these character flaws with messianism.8 As interesting as these psychological approaches
are, they fall short of providing a satisfactory explanation. In fact, in deriving political decisions
from an innate narcissistic disposition, they overlook an additional temptation, which is that
Ethiopia's manifold intricate problems can drive a leader to make authoritarian choices. Far from
me to deny the impact of the psychological makeup of leaders: I myself appealed to such an
explanation to account for the rise and fall of Mengistu Haile Mariam in Chapter VIII. However,
I maintain that political problems should not be reduced to psychological or character issues (this
point is discussed in Chapter I, notably regarding the difference between idealist and materialist
explanations). Certainly, without the context prescribed by objective conditions, subjective factors
alone cannot account for political choices. Thus, in the case of Mengistu, the overthrow of a long-
reigning monarch like Haile Selassie and the numerous problems arising from it, combined with
the growing influence of the civilian left, created conditions favorable to Mengistu’s narcissistic
personality. The question, then, is whether it is possible to understand the recent shift of Abiy
without considering the numerous grave hurdles he is facing. When the problem is so posited, one
can rationally entertain the idea that the dictatorial slide reveals a predisposition, but with the
understanding that it is also a choice based on the belief that it provides a way out. For, the more
problems multiply and deepen, the harder it becomes to resist the dictatorial solution.
It stands to reason that a latent dictatorial tendency can become explicit by the exercise of
power in a party and government filled with sycophants. Add to this possibility the hegemonic
aspirations of Oromo elite groups, which originate from the position of representing the most
numerous ethnic group in the Horn of Africa and the need to repair and avenge the damages
inflicted by Menilik’s conquest on Oromo peoples and the subsequent Amhara domination since
that conquest. You then have what it takes to change the dictatorial craving into a fully blossomed
trait. In other words, an encounter occurred between the Oromo hegemonic ambition and Abiy’s
dictatorial predisposition, whose consequence was that both fed upon each other and mutually
fortified. The one group able to counter the ambition being the Amhara, the ongoing armed
hostility between Abiy as the messianic leader of the Oromo people and the Amhara elites is,
therefore, in the order of things. Whether one prefers to speak of narcissism or messianism matters
little, the bare truth for critics is that the reinforcement of a predisposition by a definite social
context explains Abiy’s decision to disarm the Amhara militia and subdue the region, for only thus
can his awakened craving for absolute power be fulfilled.
Let us try to be precise and thorough, as the reason for the shift from the moderate stand to
a more ethnonationalist position does not seem to have an easy answer. Undoubtedly, the recent
change of position has to do with the openly competitive conflict between the two major ethnic
groups, namely, the Amhara and the Oromo, in particular within the Prosperity Pary. For one thing,
the midway course could not but frustrate both Oromo elite groups and the Oromo wing of the
ruling party, which constitutes the base of Abiy’s power. For another, the intra-party conflicts are
a constant source of instability destabilizing the functioning of the government. Another highly
consequential outcome of intra-party conflict was the war against the TPLF army. It had the
unintended consequence of considerably strengthening both the fighting force and the weaponry
of the Amhara militias. This state of things could not but provoke anxiety among Oromo elite
groups and the Oromo wing of the Prosperity Party, including its leader Abiy.
Another consequence of the war is the thorny issue of territories retaken by the Amhara
regional state following the military defeat of the TPLF. Rejecting the argument that the territories
were forcefully annexed to Tigray after the collapse of the Derg’s army, the TPLF defiantly claims
them and makes the achievement of peace conditional on their return. The important thing here is
that the TPLF has successfully convinced the international community, especially Western donor
countries, of Tigray’s “legitimate right” to the territories. As a result, Western donors subject the
full resumption of economic and financial aids to the return of the territories to Tigray. Clearly,
this issue of contested territories put Abiy and the Amhara region on a confrontational path. Not
only because it stands in the way of the resumption of the much-needed Western support, but also
because the reintegration of these rich territories further strengthens the already enhanced standing
of the Amhara both in the party coalition and in the country.
Here then is Abiy’s dilemma: convinced that the pursuit of a moderate course cannot
handle the conflicts between the two major ethnic groups, Abiy is faced with the dilemma of siding
with the one against the other. Going with the Amhara means the abandonment of ethnic federalism
and Oromo hegemonic aspirations, which abandonment would only expand and consolidate the
already active Oromo opposition against him. On the other hand, siding with the Oromo means
losing the support of the Amhara, whose consequence is the loss of the most reliable and principal
advocate of Ethiopian unity and integrity. Bearing in mind that Abiy has his constituency in
Oromia, the feasible way out of the dilemma with minimum disruption or hurdle was to accede to
the wish of the majority of the Oromia wing of his Prosperity Party. This means putting the party
under the dominant leadership of its Oromo faction without, however, the drawback, as in the case
of the EPRDF under the TPLF, of the domination of a faction representing a minority ethnic group.
Indeed, what could be more legitimate than the ascendency of the wing representing the largest
ethnic group in Ethiopia?
Thus far, I have sketched the context of the shift of policy that led to the growing strained
relationship between Abiy and Amhara elite groups, despite the fact that the Amhara provided the
staunchest support to him during the first years of his premiership. This contextual explanation
does not completely answer the question of knowing why Abiy effectively decided to go along
with the hegemonic aspiration of the Oromo wing of his party, thereby repeating the path of the
TPLF that he had severely criticized at the beginning of his premiership. The context provides the
dilemma he faced, but it does not entirely say why he chose this path rather than another possible
path. To complete the explanation, psychological features related to Abiy’s personality must enter
into the equation. The theoretically appropriate way of articulating the psychological factor with
the context is via a more elaborate examination, which is the purpose of the next paragraph, of the
impact of intra-coalition competition.
For now, the following should be said: even though only the future can tell how successful
Abiy’s resolution of the dilemma will be, one certainty stands out: the future of Ethiopia as a united
and viable country hinges on a sustained prevalence of a moderate course over extremism coming
from various contending groups. This, in turn, depends on the commitment and ability of the prime
minister and his associates to keep together moderates, who make up the majority. The best
possible political arrangement to achieve this result is the institution of a system promoting power-
sharing and democratic inclusiveness. A word of caution: power-sharing has no affinity with
cooptation, as when the ruling party gives advisory roles, ministerial positions, or some other
important functions to representatives of opposition parties. Cooptation can prevent neither the
formulation of policies in the terms decided by the ruling party nor their execution. A good
example of cooptation is the now defunct EPRDF: even though it was presented and promoted as
a power-sharing coalition, the unchallenged authority of the TPLF turned it into a cooptative
coalition. Unlike cooptation, power-sharing operates on the basis of consensus between political
parties or partners in a coalition: it is an agreement in which the partners recognize their respective
rights. We have now reached the stage where the elements for a more detailed and conceptual
explanation of Abiy’s policy seem gathered.
Intra-Coalition Competition and Social Discontents

What makes context important is that, whether one speaks of shift or tactical maneuver, one still
has to explain the specific nature and timing of the change. As stated earlier, the answer to the
question of what particular occurrence or occurrences caused the policy mutation is to be found in
the events that took place in Tigray and the subsequent effects of those events on the attitude of
Western countries vis-à-vis Ethiopia and Abiy’s government. Even more importantly, the effects
had decisive repercussions on the competition, already underway, between the Oromo and Amhara
wings of the Prosperity Party. Essentially driven by Amhara frustrations against the expanding
dominion of Oromo elites in every aspect of social life as well as mistreatments of Amharas’ basic
rights in other regional states, the competition brought into play Abiy’s retention and preservation
of absolute power. In the perceptive words of Terrence Lyons, “heightened intra-coalition
competition produces internal dynamics . . . that shape political outcomes. It may be that political
competition within the authoritarian party matters more than competition with formal opposition.”9
The observation necessitates an additional remark, which is that the authoritarian command so
reigns over the coalition that the party acts basically as a single-party system.
A pertinent instance of the dynamics of intra-coalition competition is the election to the
premiership of Abiy himself. The change happened as a result of the Amhara and Oromo wings of
the EPRDF acting in concert to challenge the hegemony of the TPLF. The specific thing about
intra-party competition is that it generates a dynamics, that is, a change from within, in distinction
to the usual approach assigning change to an external cause. Of course, the legitimate question
here is whether such a change is a lasting one. While in the case of Abiy the change seems short-
lived, there are instances where it had far-reaching impacts, as in the case of Gorbachev in the
previous USSR or Den Xiaoping in China.
Another example of the dynamics of competition between party partners, but this time with
dreadful outcomes, is undoubtedly the war in Tigray. From day one of his premiership, Abiy had
to confront the TPLF’s open threat against his power. The menace was not only real and highly
perilous to Abiy, but it was also imminent. The TPLF had under its command a large fighting force
that was probably better equipped and organized than the federal army, not to mention the large
networks of supporters and financial backings that it had at its disposal all over Ethiopia and
outside Ethiopia. When the TPLF’s army finally launched its attacks on the Ethiopian army with
the clear intention of marching toward Addis Ababa and removing Abiy, it became clear that the
survival of Abiy’s regime depended on the mobilization of the Amhara and the Afar peoples as
well as on the assistance of Eritrean forces. For Abiy’s critics, after the military victory of the
Ethiopian army over the TPLF thanks to the effective assistance of Amhara and Afar fighting
forces and the Eritrean army, a new situation emerged that cornered Abiy into making difficult
choices. Indeed, his pan-Ethiopianism had already angered many among the Oromo wing of his
own party as well as among the Oromo elites at large. This anger translated into concrete measures
supporting and strengthening the Oromo guerrilla force, known as Shene, in its fight against
governmental forces. It became increasingly obvious that Abiy was about to lose his support in
Oromia unless he significantly tempered his pan-Ethiopian stand. Specifically, the tempering
meant skewing the competition between the Oromo and Amhara elites in favor of the former.
For critics, the need to side with Oromo elites became even more imperative as the
consequences of the TPLF’s war were unfolding. First, due to the war, the Amhara regional state
ended up with an armed force that could be as menacing as the Tigrean force was. Second, the
freeing of the rich region known as Welkait and other areas from the Tigrean control and their
integration into the Amhara regional state further strengthened the Amhara standing. Thus grew
the belief that the Amhara’s competitive mindset and the simultaneous rise of Amhara nationalism
are more dangerous to Abiy and the Oromo wing of Prosperity Party than the threat of Oromo
opposition groups inside or outside the party. Third, the issue of recovered territories stood in the
way of the reconciliation between the TPLF and Prosperity Party. The reconciliation is particularly
sought by both Oromo elites and the Oromo wing of the Prosperity Party for its balancing effect
against the rising Amhara influence and its predictable adverse impact on the continuation of
ethnonationalist politics. It is well known that Amhara elites have been and still are the main
opposing voice against ethnic federalism, while the TPLF and Oromo elites and members of the
ruling party remain its staunchest defenders. Fourth, the way Western countries came out in
support of the TPLF during the war and their subsequent pressure to put an end to the military
confrontations, the apex of which was the American threat of drastic financial and economic
sanctions unless a peace agreement is signed, implied the preservation of the territorial integrity
of Tigray, that is, the return of Welkait and other recovered territories to Tigray.
In addition to the felt need to downsize the newfound Amhara politico-military importance,
the implementation, as already said, of the Tigrean demand that both the West and the Oromo
party base support could not but put Abiy on a collision course with Amhara elites and regional
state. Since the resumption of Western assistance is conditional on the completion of the
reconciliation with Tigray, it meant the return of claimed territories to Tigray in some way and at
some time in the near future. Accordingly, to regain the much-needed economic support of the
West and counter the perceived Amhara challenge by winning the support of the Oromo wing of
his party and Oromo elites in general, Abiy saw no other way out than to effectuate an adjustment
in the direction of backing Oromo hegemonic aspirations. Moreover, reconciliation with the TPLF
would seal the alliance with the Oromo wing of the Prosperity Party, which is necessary to contain
the opposition, mostly coming from Amhara elites, against ethnonationalist politics and ethnic
federalism. While ensuring the resumption of Western loans, investments, and aid, the
reconciliation presents no danger to Abiy now that military defeat has diminished the TPLF.
All things considered, say critics, the surest way for Abiy to retain and strengthen his power
is to move away from his pan-Ethiopianism by both securing the alliance with the TPLF and
echoing the viewpoint of those yearning for Oromo ascendancy in Ethiopia. These two conditions
enable Abiy to have a firmer hold on power because: (1) the seemingly irreconcilable antagonism
between Tigrean and Amhara elites is a useful tool now that the former are militarily diminished;
(2) the government’s decision to demobilize and disperse the Amhara regional militia that was
greatly strengthened as a result of the war is another move beneficial to Abiy; (3) the procurement
of the support of Oromo elites provides a large and reliable power base. As already mentioned,
arguments like the Oromo constitute the largest ethnic group in the country, Oromia is the richest
and the largest region, prop up the Oromo domineering appetite. Nothing illustrates better the
dynamics of intra-coalition competition than Abiy’s political shift. Indeed, the condition that led
to the alliance between the Oromo and Amhara wings of Prosperity Party having changed now
that defeat has weakened the TPLF, the competition, previously contained but never resolved,
between the two wings of the party naturally comes to the forefront. Likewise, nothing better
explains the policy shift than the intersection between the context and Abiy’s narcissistic tendency:
that which was simply latent can come to fruition when it finds favorable or pressing conditions.
That is why, in the eyes of many opponents, more than a return to an original or to a newly
acquired ethnonationalist commitment, the retention of absolute control of state power is behind
Abiy’s recent political volte-face. Seeing the policy mutation from the perspective of Abiy’s
partiality for the Oromo is to overlook the change of context that led him to read into the hegemonic
aspirations of Oromo elites a sure way of retaining absolute power. By contrast, given the
dictatorial craving of Abiy and the domineering aspiration of Oromo elite groups, if one asks the
question of knowing which support among the contending forces Abiy is likely to use to gratify
his craving, the pertinent answer jumps out easily. For, in posing the problem in terms of the
encounter between the absolutist ambition of an individual and the aspiration of an elite group,
one seizes the opportunity to grasp the war in Tigray as the first manifestation of the elites’ conflict
for the hegemonic control of Ethiopian state and the current war in Amhara region as a continuation
of the fight over domination. Moreover, the haste with which Abiy and his Oromo wing of
Prosperity party allied with the TPLF after the signing of a peace agreement fits well with both
Abiy’s dictatorial longing and Oromo elites’ domineering goal: now that the TPLF is weakened
by its military defeat, its ethnonationalist dedication can become an ally in the fight for the
preservation of ethnic federalism, provided that the TPLF benefits by recovering the contested
territories. The recovery conveniently disadvantages the rival Amhara region and reinforces the
hostility between the two ethnic regions.
Not only does the preservation of ethnic federalism call for a dominant faction, but it also
necessitates the dictatorial rule of one individual, obvious as it is that the condition for the
dominant ethnic faction to safeguard its privileged position is to shield the unlimited rule of the
individual who comes from its own ranks. The last time this rule was not followed ended with the
TPLF’s loss of its dominant position: because the prime minister who succeeded after Meles’s
death, Hailemariam Desalegn, did not come from the Tigrean ethnic group, he was denied the
limitless power that the system required. This same time reveals the extent to which intra-party
competition opens the door for the expression of popular discontents: in parallel with the
germinating divisions within the ruling EPRDF party, mass uprisings first in Oromia and then in
the Amhara region against the TPLF exploded. These uprisings could not but intensify the
divisions within the ruling party, with the consequence that they weakened the repressive ability
of the government. In the Amhara region, because the competition between the Oromo and Amhara
wings of the Prosperity Party failed to reach a confrontational level owing to the conceding attitude
of the Amhara political leadership, the popular discontents, led by the armed Fano militia, first
turned against and then practically ousted the Amhara regional party. It was only when Abiy sent
the national army that the Amhara uprising escalated into a war against the government. Despite
the noted difference between the cases of the EPRDF and Prosperity Party, one common
characteristic emerges about intra-party competition within an authoritarian party, which is that
the competition itself is expressive of underlying social discontents that the dictatorial nature of
the ruling party cannot solve.
So understood, the competition must be seen as a crack in the system that can move in the
direction of a positive change if the ruling party reforms itself in a way echoing the social demands.
If, on the other hand, the party refuses to reform itself and clings to its authoritarian methods, it
invites revolution, even civil war. In taking the path of heightened authoritarianism as a response
to mounting challenges, what else are Abiy and the Prosperity Party inviting but the most
dangerous outcome of all? Indeed, the surrender to a dictatorial drift does no more than put the
very existence of the country in jeopardy, for no ethnic group in Ethiopia has anymore the stomach
to endure another round of ethnic hegemonic rule, whichever be the perpetrating group. It only
leaves Ethiopians with a bitter sense of déjà vu, thereby confirming that, despite a very promising
start, Abiy could not escape the fate of his predecessors, namely, the fall into the dictatorial trap,
a slide typical of the vagaries of “modern” Ethiopian politics.
By Way of Solution
From what is said so far, one thing protrudes: in whichever way we examine the causes of
Ethiopia’s inability to broaden and deepen modernization, none is more difficult to grapple with
than the multi-faceted impediment arising from ethnonationalism and its constitutional expression,
ethnic federalism. The difficulty stands in the way of the most urgent and paramount task, to wit,
the reformation of the Ethiopian state, whose basic defect is that it cannot function without
instituting some form of dominance. In addition to masking the real root of the problem,
ethnicization parades itself as the appropriate solution when in reality it is itself an outgrowth of
the malformation of the Ethiopian modern state. However, it is important to reiterate what has been
said previously. The argument according to which the fragmentation of the country along ethnic
lines being the major problem, the solution is to dissolve the ethnic regions and establish a federal
system based on criteria that are less divisive, logical and attractive as it may sound, is not feasible.
According to many analysts (including myself), some such solution has the obvious disadvantage
of trying to solve the problem by seriously endangering whatever appetite for unity still remains,
the consequence of which would be, as already reiterated, to inflame violent ethnic clashes in
various places of the country.
In agreement with medemer policy, I say that, at this stage of the country’s evolution, the
depoliticization of the ethnic criterion would be a hasty measure because ethnicity has become the
main legitimizing reason for political demarcations, alignments, and mobilizations, especially for
elites vying for the control of state power. Since all political demands and grievances are soaked
in identity politics, the country has reached a point where doing politics amounts to ethnicizing.
Any attempt at depoliticizing ethnicity is perceived as a unitarian bid to reverse the gains of identity
politics since the fall of the Derg. Even those who push for a unitary state agree to make such large
concessions to identity politics that one wonders what is really left of their opposition to ethnic
federalism.
The point of contention that defenders of today’s ethnic federalism have against their
opponents being that the depoliticization of ethnicity can only result in the restoration of a unitary
state, what if, instead of restoration, we think in terms of institutional mechanisms that would
mitigate the divisive nature of ethnic politics while retaining its institutional expression? This kind
of thinking wants neither a return to the past nor the maintenance of the status quo. Rather, it calls
for the creation of institutional mechanisms enabling ethnicity to work hand in hand with national
unity instead of undermining it. This appeal to institutional mechanisms demarcates the proposal
from the position of medemer in that it backs the restoration of national unity with political means
instead of merely relying on the expected benefits from synergy to overcome ethnic fragmentation.
It also differs from the position of those who support the necessity of a dominant group or party to
keep the country together. It does so by restoring universal suffrage, that is, by allowing the people
to speak and reach a national and sovereign majority vote. Let me give the main lines of the
proposal.
One basic condition of national unity is the consent that people give to living together and
sharing a common future, a consent that is usually provided through the ballot box. Yet, for consent
to produce a stable and working political community, it must translate into a sovereign power, that
is, a power that transcends the mere sum of its constituent parts. The democratic way of expressing
and implementing this sovereign power is through majority rule. To quote John Locke, “every
man, by consenting with others to make one body politic under one government, puts himself
under an obligation to everyone of that society to submit to the determination of the majority, and
to be concluded by it.”10 To make unity conditional on a continued unanimous agreement between
the component parts is just an invitation to its dissolution, obvious as it is that unanimity as a
requirement of unity offers no alternative other than dissolution at the slightest disagreement,
which is inevitable. The democratic principle of majority rule is the only and broadly
acknowledged means that political unions have to avoid dissolution and, with it, the inevitability
of violent clashes. Two companies can merge and then dissolve without causing a national
catastrophe, not so a political union, in which hands, people place the protection of their lives,
liberties, and properties.
As indicated in the last chapter, the manner the Ethiopian Constitution framed the federal
system has no embedded safeguard against dissolution. Not only does it start from the sovereignty
of multiple nations and nationalities, but it also underlines that “all sovereign power resides in the
Nations, Nationalities and Peoples of Ethiopia.”11 The purposely discarded notion of the
sovereignty of Ethiopia as a nation is clearly stated in the already mentioned Article 39 Clause 1
of the constitution granting ethnic groups the right to secede. According to the clause, the decision
to remain or not in the union solely depends on the approval of a “two-thirds majority of the
members of the Legislative Council of the Nation, Nationality or People concerned” and “a
majority vote in the referendum” organized by the federal government.”12 Unity here is not raised
to the level of a transcendent notion through a transfer of sovereignty from the ethnic groups to
the collective body; it is solely dependent on the conditional assent of the component groups. Far
from constituting one body, the parliament remains a collection of distinct and sovereign entities.
No wonder that the late prime minister, Meles Zenawi, had to go out of stated constitutional
norms and resort to dictatorial methods to protect his power and prevent the country from breaking
apart. Operating in a constitutional system that removed all legal means to prevent dissolution, he
had to tear apart the democratic provisions inscribed in the constitution, thereby joining the clan
of all those dictators who subordinate the preservation of national unity to the continuity of their
absolute rule. Moreover, the refusal to generate a collective being that transcends ethnic
distinctions has the harmful effect of turning any officeholder, including the premiership, into a
representative of an ethnic group. Consequently, officeholders do not see people as citizens, but
as members of ethnic groups with unequal standing in relation to members of their own ethnic
group. Inversely, people who belong to different ethnic groups than the officeholder see their
relations with him/her as conflictual at best. It is of no use to try to create an impression of equality
through a fair distribution of governmental offices: inasmuch as the offices are not impersonalized,
that is, de-ethnicized, equal treatment will remain wanting. A federal system that would be
representative of all Ethiopians regardless of race, ethnicity, or religion is unattainable so long as
the entire system is made unable to transcend the ethnic constituencies.
Here is, then, the real dilemma of Ethiopia: on the one hand, there is no any good actual
alternative to the preservation of the ethnically demarcated states and, on the other, there is the
need to generate a transcending unity to keep, not only the ethnic units together, but also to make
them work in an integrated, harmonious, and mutually beneficial way. I see no better way to
resolve the dilemma than to erect a presidential power transcending ethnic entities. The idea is to
let ethnic politics operate at the parliamentary level while preventing it at the same time from
undermining national unity, the long-term view being that economic growth, improved conditions
of life, the progress of equality, and the prospect of a better future will soften the antagonistic
nature of ethnic political alignments in favor of inclusive and pragmatic political values. In
superimposing on ethnic political representations, which reside in the parliament, a presidential
system with clear and extensive unitary and national functions, the country secures the means to
institutionally reduce the divisive impact of ethnic politics. While the ethnic regions elect the
parliament, the president is elected by direct universal suffrage, and so is invested with powers
transcending ethnic representations.
For instance, one national function of the president could be the power to intervene in
regional affairs every time an ethnic or religious minority group needs protection from threats and
attacks. Naturally, the responsibility of the commander-in-chief of the armed forces as well as of
federal security forces would have to be included among the national functions of the president if
the latter is to transcend the ethnic states. Another prerogative of the president could be the power
to dissolve the parliament in case of a national emergency. The nomination of the prime minister
could also be one of the presidential functions. The prime minister will have the specific function
of serving as a liaison and a bridge between the president and the parliament. As such, he/she is
responsible for securing a majority support for policies initiated or approved by the president. To
use an image, the prime minister will be to the parliament what a conductor is to a symphonic
orchestra.
The assumption here is that a presidential candidate cannot have a majority of votes unless
he/she presents a program that suits the majority of voters in the country. Given that no ethnic
group can claim to represent the majority of Ethiopians, any agenda of preferential treatment of
one ethnic group over other groups becomes a losing proposition. The obvious advantage of
electing the president through universal suffrage is, therefore, to make sure that moderation
pervades federal instances and decisions. In this way, the president does not represent a specific
ethnic group, and this transcendence counters the tendency to dispersion inherent in the parliament
with a unifying instance. To use an image borrowed this time from physics, presidential power
will be to the parliament what a converging lens is to rays of light passing through it. If, unlike
regional positions that depend on regional elections, the election of the president emanates from
universal suffrage and is decided by a majority vote of all people from all ethnic regions, some
such arrangement, in addition to strongly encouraging moderation, creates the needed incentive
for the emergence of national political figures from within the ethnic regions themselves.
Moreover, the combination of universal suffrage and majority vote with regional elections ties
individual rights with group rights and turns moderation into a condition for a successful bid since,
as suggested above, candidates for the presidential office will have to become attractive to voters
outside their ethnic groups. In thus addressing people outside their ethnic groups, presidential
candidates are compelled to deal with them as citizens endowed with individual rights.
The solution provides a remarkable synthesis between unitarists and ethnic federalists:
instead of opposing unity to ethnicity, it proposes a living, self-adjusting process that produces
unity out of diversity and diversity out of unity. Depending on how we look at the constitutional
arrangement, it can be seen as a differentiation of unity, if one descends from top to bottom, or as
a convergence toward oneness, if one goes from bottom to top. Note that the process of going from
oneness to multiplicity approximates or imitates the process of life; as such, it is natural, the defining feature
of which is that, as outcomes of internal differentiations, the distinguished elements remain organically part
of the whole being but its component and mutually complementary parts. By contrast, the movement that
goes from distinct elements to unity involves an act of assemblage; as such, it is a mechanical process in
which self-sufficient entities come together to constitute an artificial unity to which they remain external.
Pinpointing the qualitative difference between the mechanical and the vital, Henri Bergson writes: “life
does not proceed by the association and addition of elements, but by dissociation and division.”13 To the
question of which one, of the two forms of integration, is likely to produce reliable unity, the answer is not
difficult to find out.
Worth noticing is also the fact that the proposed solution that the proposal comes close to
Ethiopia’s traditional system of semi-autonomous regions (almost kingdoms) unified under a
transcending authority expressly called “king of kings.” To explain the remarkably long-lasting
survival of Ethiopia, the third chapter of this book brought to light the role of the interaction
between regional power and the emperor in protecting the integrity and independence of the
country. What is more, the book has argued all along that the inability/refusal to include some of
the assets of the traditional system in the modernization effort has, to a great extent, brought about
the derailment of the modernization process. In opting for a tight centralization so as to dissolve
regional power accused of being responsible for the prolonged lack of peace and security, the
central power evolved first into an imperial autocracy and then into a military dictatorship. This
slippage led to a reaction, which came in the form of a dictatorship of an ethnic party. These
changes represent a cascade of reactions to the faulty formation of the Ethiopian modern state.
All the different forms of state centralization produced the same result, namely, the
derailment of modernization. However, while it is absolutely true to say that decentralization is
the change that is required to correct the derailment, one must not lose sight of the imperative of
unity, especially after the deep divisions engendered by a deliberate policy of ethnic
fragmentations. Needed, therefore, is the setting up of a political system that is as flexible,
accommodating, and consensus-based as the traditional system. As a renovated, modernized
tradition, the new political system will hold the country together, no more through the imposition
of the absolute power of the center, but through the dynamic interactions and mutual dependency
of centripetal and centrifugal forces. The major difference is evidently that, in the modern system,
the source of power and legitimacy moves from war prowess and Kibre Negast’s divine
consecration to popular suffrage. The involvement of popular suffrage ascribes the responsibility
of protecting freedom and equality and enabling the material betterment of the citizens, in
accordance with the gospel of modernization, to the elected political class.
This is to say that the proposed presidential system puts Ethiopia on the right track to
undertake the much-needed reform of the state. Indeed, the preservation of ethnic regions ensures
the decentralization of the state through the relative autonomy of regions. But unlike the TPLF’s
solution, it does not appeal to the institution of the dominance of one ethnic party to safeguard
national unity. Instead, it creates a powerful organ that transcends the ethnic regions thanks to the
election of the president through universal suffrage, who is then the common national dominator
that unites all Ethiopians beyond their distinct ethnic identities. In this way, the solution provides
the missing factor in medemer’s commitment to unity, which is the countering of ethnic dispersion
with a transcendent unifying agent. The fact that the free choice of people elects the president
democratizes the system by making the president accountable to the Ethiopian people. It is
reasonable to assume that the free choice exercised at the level of the federal government will have
its ramifications at the regional level. The general outcome will be the generation of a state in
which finally Ethiopians will have a say in the running of the affairs that concern and affect them.
In place of the system that takes away power from Ethiopians, thereby reducing them to the status
of subjects, Ethiopia will have a governing system whose principal constituents are citizens, that
is, free individuals who are collectively sovereign.
It may seem contradictory to recommend the reformation of the Ethiopian state via the
establishment of a presidential system with extensive power. However, some such objection does
not hold water: powerful presidential systems, like the one in France and the United States, are no
less democratic than parliamentary systems. A strong presidential system is no threat to democracy
so long as the parliament and the judicial branch retain their autonomy, not to mention the
possibility of adding rules purposely designed to prevent the slide toward dictatorship. In
whichever way one analyses the situation, the state of latent as well as advanced conflictual
relations between diverse ethnic groups in Ethiopia requires a presidential system that can soar
above the groups. To rely on existing parties for the formation of a government of coalition that
would prioritize national interests over ethnic interests would be a deceitful solution. The matter
must be left to the only resort that can transcend elite politics, namely, the people as a whole, that
is, as citizens forming a whole beyond ethnic enclaves. It is equally patent that the presidency must
command enough power to be able to soar above group interests. The point is that Ethiopians, as
a people, elect the president and the president feels accountable to them. Together with the need
to have majority support in the parliament, this power to directly elect the president empowers the
people and gives them a say in the running of the country. Simply put, the foundation of Ethiopian
national unity becomes viable and imperative only when the people as a collective sovereign
majority manifests its will through a presidential election. So that, rather than elites speaking in
the name of the people, as is now the case, the collective majority will of the people is the ultimate
decider.
In conclusion, I want to share my firm belief that the proposal contains ideas that are liable
to unite and mobilize a large number of people. The proposal to abolish the ethnic states can be
appealing to many people, especially in urban areas, but no matter the extent to which it will go to
protect identity rights, it will not be enough to rally a majority in such important regions as Oromia,
Tigray, Somali, etc. Nor could it avoid the eruption of protests and violent ethnic clashes in various
parts of the country. By contrast, my proposal attempts to harmonize unity with diversity, and so
does not roll back any of the acquired rights, like self-rule and the development of group identity,
while allowing these rights to operate within a renovated and strengthened national unity. As such,
it can unite and mobilize numerous people from different ethnic groups. This study hopes that such
a potential lays the ground for the emergence of a multiethnic political party that could fill the void
of the much-needed alternative to the Prosperity Party. It will distinguish itself from the latter by
prioritizing unity and deriving diversity from it in the manner of the Indian National Congress
Party.
1
Abiy Ahmed, Medemer (Addis Ababa, Meskerem, 2012), iv (my translation).
2
Ibid,47-48 (my translation).
3
“Ethiopia's Constitution of 1994,” constituteproject.org (27 April 2022)
https://www.constituteproject.org/constitution/Ethiopia_1994.pdf
4
Abdisa Olkeba Jima, “Vicious circle of Ethiopian politics: Prospects and challenges of current political reform,”
CogentSocialSciences, March 8, 2021, https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/23311886.2021.1893908
5
Jonathan Fisher, “A Shining Example for the Horn,” Leaders for a New Africa (Milano, Italy: Ledizioni
LediPublishing, 2019), 41-42.
6
Ibid., 47.
7
For instance, see Mistir Sew’s article, “Ethipia’s Leader has some Worrying Traits,” Ethiopian Insight (May 4, 2021)
https://www.ethiopia-insight.com/2021/05/04/ethiopias-leader-has-some-worrying-traits/
8
Henok Jemal Aman, Mulat Abebel Reta, “A Close Look at Abiy’s Charismatic Leadership in Ethiopia, American
Journal of Management, June 27, no. 3, 2022, http://www.sciencepublishinggroup.com/j/ajmse
9
Terrence Lyons, “The Puzzle of Ethiopian Politics,” Democracy in Africa (September 2, 2019)
https://democracyinafrica.org/puzzle-ethiopian-politics/
10
John Locke, Two Treatises of Government (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988), 332.
11
Ibid., “Ethiopia's Constitution of 1994.”
12
Ibid.
13
Henri Bergson, Creative Evolution, trans. Arthur Mitchell (New York: The Modern Library, 1944), 99 (Italics in
text). For more information on the difference between organization and mechanism, see Messay Kebede, Bergson’s
Philosophy of Self-Overcoming: Thinking without Negativity or Time as Striving (Cham, Switzerland: Palgrave
Macmillan, 2019).
Chapter XI
Recapitulation and Therapeutic Roadmap
This book revolved around a central theme, which is to show how the imperative to hold on to
absolute power derailed the modernization of Ethiopia under three consecutive but radically
different political regimes, the irony being that each came to power on the promise of removing
the defects of the regime that preceded it. Its main argument can be summed up thus: from Haile
Selassie’s imperial state, military socialism, to the two versions of ethnic federalism, the framing
of modernization in an exclusionary political system and the attendant excluding forms of
ideological thinking are responsible in large measure for the derailment. As Kostas Loukeris notes,
All political ideologies currently promoted in Ethiopia share the commonality of political
exclusion. This means that all of them are based on particular characteristics that force
other Ethiopian citizens to either accept them and thus deny their own ideological
orientation or feel excluded from its political system. These processes create grievances
and breed conflict.1
Let us recapitulate the main findings of our study.
Disabilities of Ethiopian Modern State

The three regimes adopted all kind of ideological and political gimmicks to soften the contradiction
arising from their declared commitment to set in motion modernization while framing it in an
exclusionary political system. The predictable outcome of all this was for sure the delay of
modernization, but also the deep and ever-growing social fractures and structural impediments
resulting from the continuous derailment. This descent from bad to worse is so true that scholars
and political leaders, beyond acknowledging the delay, increasingly refer to the uncertainty of
Ethiopia’s future as a united country.
The inquiry into the derailment opened with an elucidation of the role of the survival will of
nations in unleashing the determination to modernize in various parts of the world. The application
of the survival will to the case of Ethiopia disclosed that colonial encirclement and threats had sown
the rudiments of an Ethiopian will to modernize. Unfortunately, this will quickly diverted towards
the consolidation of the imperial state and the landed class, both made possible by the southern
conquest and the victory of Adwa against Italian forces. These two milestones imparted
overconfidence to the ruling class. Especially, the victory of Adwa came to be seen as a
demonstration of Ethiopia’s ability to defend itself. The conquest also increased the authority of the
imperial throne, since it supplied the resources needed to bolster the military capability of the state
and implement an extensive centralizing agenda. In addition, it strengthened the landed class and
fortified its grip over the country, particularly over the peasantry, thereby establishing a dependable
class support for the imperial power.
The rudiment of the will to modernize the country completely lost its national priorities,
including the building of a self-reliant and dependable defense system, following the Fascist Italian
occupation of Ethiopia and its “liberation” thanks to the decisive intervention of British troops
alongside Ethiopian patriotic forces. After the recovery from the traumatic Italian occupation,
Ethiopia was independent only in name, since its defeat gave the full measure of its lag behind the
Western world. There was nowhere to go but to accept Ethiopia’s dependency on the West and get
on with the task of learning and importing many of the features of Western civilization. In default of
being able to fly with its own wings, Ethiopia thus resigned to the status of a neo-colonized country
under the stewardship of Haile Selassie, who owed his restoration to the throne to the British
government. As an offset for this reduced status, the imperial state further consolidated and
centralized its power with the highly publicized goal of making available the benefits of modernity
to the Ethiopian people.
Charging the state with the responsibility of improving the social and material existence of
the people represents a sea change in the conception of the objective and legitimacy of the exercise
of state power in Ethiopia. The change reflects, but in a distorted manner, Europe’s own history of
modernization. Indeed, previous to modern times, the task of state power in Europe was to
consolidate and defend a social order protective of the rights of a group claiming some form of
superiority, be it ethnic, aristocratic, cultural, or martial, a good example being the protection of
noble privileges under the feudal order. As the modernization of Europe kicked off, the goal of social
and material betterment was added to the defense of social order. No longer is the role of the state
confined to the protection of social peace; it also includes the improvement of the life of its citizens.
These words of John Locke, one of the founders of the most early and accomplished expression of
modernity, namely, contract theory, put the matter in clear terms:
The necessity of preserving men in the possession of what honest industry has already
acquired and also of preserving their liberty and strength, whereby they may acquire what
they farther want, obliges men to enter into society with one another, that by mutual
assistance and joint force they may secure unto each other their properties, in the things that
contribute to the comfort and happiness of this life.2
The American Declaration of Independence takes further the application of Locke’s principle by
including “the pursuit of happiness” among the inalienable rights that people want to protect by
setting up governments.3
As pointed out in the introduction of this book, for a lagging country like Ethiopia, adding
the goal of material betterment of society to the responsibilities of the state proved to be a Sisyphean
task. While in the West, social betterment came as a fallout from the development of the productive
forces, in Ethiopia, the direct and major agent of betterment, especially of economic development,
became the state. Without a prior sufficient growth of productive capacities, how else could the social
goal of betterment begin to materialize but through the postponement of a policy of modernization
targeting self-reliance? The postponement means the surrender of a policy centered on national self-
reliance and interests in return for a willful insertion into the neocolonial order. Stated otherwise,
rather than the hard road of transformation through industrialization and technological advancement,
the emphasis on social betterment steered modernization into the much more indolent and by far less
11 RECAPITULATION AND THERAPEUTIC ROADMAP 145
transformational path of becoming a consumer of Western products in exchange for raw materials
and cheap labor. In this way, Ethiopia joined the fate of all Third World countries, despite its different
interactions with colonialism.
It goes without saying that, under these conditions, the promise of social betterment becomes
anything but realizable. The submission to an international division of labor that highly favors the
West and the deferment of the development of native manufacturing abilities can only profit the
small ruling elites in peripheral countries, provided that they succeed in retaining absolute control of
state power. This policy of collecting leftovers from the West explains why dictatorial rule is
endemic in developing countries, even when contending elites, who insistently promised
democratization, manage to come to power. Obviously, collecting leftovers can never overcome
scarcity, let alone develop a poor country. Consequently, only through the exclusive control of state
power can ruling elites reserve the scarce resources for themselves. Ethiopia is no exception: the
imperial regime and the two regimes that came after it are perfect cases in point.
Recall that the observed common feature between the three consecutive Ethiopian regimes,
namely, the enthrallment with absolute power, had another prior source. Through various chapters,
this book has emphasized the thesis that the consensus acknowledging power as an object of open
competition defined the Ethiopian traditional system. With the recognition of modernization as a
necessary requirement for the protection of independence against colonial forces, there emerged
views blaming the open power game for Ethiopia’s lag behind Europe. The lag is all the more
scandalous in light of Ethiopia’s paternity of an advanced civilization dating back to the Kingdom
of Aksum. As we saw in Chapter V, beginning with Haile Selassie’s modernizing attempt, the
consensus over the open power game vanished in favor of a conception of power as an exclusive
right. The ideological justification for the change of conception was the need to remove the alleged
major obstacle to social progress, that is, the persistent lack of social peace and political stability.
Politically, the change signified that the one who holds power must prevent competition by all
means necessary. Haile Selassie made this possible through a number of reforms in the name of
modernization, such as the establishment of a hereditary monarchy, a tight centralization of power,
the elimination of regional autonomy, and the banning of opposition parties. In other words, an
autocratic and repressive system designed to eliminate would-be rivals replaced the traditional
legitimacy of the winner in an open power game. The two regimes that came after the imperial
rule did nothing but strengthen the exclusionary power of the state.
It must be sufficiently clear by now that the common character shared by the three
consecutive regimes, including the latest version of ethnic federalism, basically means that no
position of authority has any basis or reality outside the authority of the tight group or the one
person—the former inevitably leading to the latter—who controls the central state. In the
traditional system, even if the power of regional nobility and the church was, as we saw, tied to
the imperial regime, both the legitimacy and autonomy of that power were facts of political
organization that emperors had to contend with. True, emperors could remove from positions of
power specific persons, but they could not question the structure of autonomy. Such is not the case
with the modern version of the Ethiopian political system. Both regional power and ecclesiastical
authority have lost their autonomy in favor of, first, the group and, then, the person who controls
the central government. Subsequently, this person alone wields power and authority in the whole
country. Whereas in the traditional system, the autonomy of regional power and the church was an
integral part of the political structure as well as of the cultural system, in the modern version, any
power, at whatever level, is just a prolongation of the person who has the sole grip on the central
government.
In sharp contrast to a participatory or power-sharing state, the political system that is

designed to exclude is keen for ideological radicalism. In a modern system that allows open
competition, the goal of a political party is to defeat its opponents electorally. Not so in a closed
system, since exclusion wants nothing else but the elimination of the rival party. As a result, the
fight takes a strong ideological demarcation corroborating the incompatibility between the two
rivals. Without the impact of ideological radicalism, the so-called incompatibility would simply
be no more than a difference, an alternative view and, as such, would invite dialogue and
negotiation rather than exclusion. Once ideological radicalism construes other views as
incompatible, the rule of exclusion calls for absolute power as a necessary means to subdue and
eliminate opposing views. The use of an extremist ideology justifies exclusion, and hence the
violent method of elimination. Any other treatment than exclusion is betrayal, since it
compromises the rectitude and wholeness of the ideology. Take the case of Haile Selassie’s
absolutism. It looks less ideological than the socialism of the Derg or the ethnonationalism of the
TPLF and Prosperity Party. Yet, his monarchical absolutism was no less exclusionary than the
despotism of its two successors: even political views that advocated a form of monarchy that would
make some concessions to the requirements of modernization were unacceptable to him. In his
mind, the modernization of Ethiopia demanded nothing less than an unmitigated imperial
absolutism.
Such a closed and tightly centralized system of power could not but divest the country of
competent people and fill the higher echelon of power with sycophants. What is more, as the
fallouts of the modern world reached more people in the urban areas, especially through the
instrumentality of modern, Western-oriented schools and colleges, the halting of reforms to protect
the absolute ascendancy of the imperial power could not but spread discontent and ignite
underground oppositions, particularly in urban areas. At the same time, opposition in some
peripheral regions evolved into a guerrilla form of struggle, like in Eritrea and Ogaden. In general,
the opposition to the imperial regime branched off in two directions, the one towards
ethnonationalism, with at times a religious overtone, and the other towards the revolutionary
ideology of class struggle. These forms of opposition seem to be logical outcomes of the demise
of the traditional social consensus. At any rate, since the liberal kind of open opposition is banned,
rising and competing elites could find no other way to organize and mobilize social forces against
the autocratic regime than through a class or ethnic ideology. Both ideologies harbor the radicalism
and underground style of struggle needed to overthrow and dismantle a long-established regime.
In addition, they could appeal to a popular base that was prone to mobilization owing to frustrating
conditions of life caused by economic hardships and unequal access to opportunities. Expressed
in terms of ethnic or class positioning, individual frustrations thus developed into solidary
alignments and organized protests.
The centrality of the power struggle establishes a continuity between the three regimes and
the traditional system, except on the issue of the open power game. In all of them, everything
(social status, wealth, opportunities, etc.), revolves around one’s closeness to the exercise of
power. This common feature reveals the underlying meaning of the obsession with absolute power,
namely, the fact that the control of state power commands access to privileges, especially economic
privileges. In other words, it turns social status and possessions into entitlements, that is, into rights
that come, not as a result of hard work or productive investment or any other recognized right, but
as prerogatives inherent in the exercise of power. In a modern setting, the assumption is that people
who work and produce owe their ranks and possessions to their actual achievements, whatever
their fields of activity may be. In a system where power allocates positions, statuses and
possessions do not depend on productive accomplishments; they are entitlements and, as such,
they are attached to the position one has. During the time of European feudalism, the privileges of
the nobility were considered to be innate so that a person born into a noble family came into this
world with special rights. Europe’s evolution towards modernity discredited the notion of innate
privileges through the assertion of the natural equality of all human beings. As could be expected,
in a country like Ethiopia where modernity was an externally induced disruption rather than the
product of an internal evolution, political positions were naturally protected from surrendering
their privileges, all the more conveniently as the state positioned itself as the principal agent of
modernization.
In traditional Ethiopia, privileges accrued from war deeds, owing to the absence of
hereditary transmission of hierarchical titles. Indeed, what were gults if not privileges stemming
from war services to the state? However, as we saw, the enormous difference is that the traditional
system maintained an open competition while the three “modern” regimes turned power into an
exclusive right. The question is: What made this change possible? Evidently, the answer resides
in the expectations triggered by modernization. With the goal of modernization, the objective of
political power is no longer confined to the protection of law and order privileging one ruling class
or elite group. As suggested a little while ago, it has another additional task, especially among
latecomers, which is to bring about change and social betterment. While this task does not exclude
the use of state power to benefit a class or group interest, it also invests it with the extra
responsibility of promoting social and material progress. In viewing state power as an agent of
change, the objective of modernization adds a messianic component to the continued exercise or
conquest of power. This messianic dimension has two inseparable components: on the one hand,
the absolute control of power so as to exclude rivals or uproot those who ruled previously, in both
cases by violent means, and, on the other, the launching of ideological struggles to discredit
opponents and the group in power as unfit for the mission of social betterment. A too familiar
theme of radical ideologies is their vociferous exposure and condemnation of the destitution of
working people because of the greediness of wealthy and powerful people. Naturally, this moral
mantle absolves the recourse to violence in the pursuit of justice for working people.
Political Impasse
The usage of the promise of bringing the benefits of modernization to the Ethiopian people to
discredit opponents begins with Haile Selassie. Indeed, by seeing and presenting himself as the
designer and executioner of Ethiopia’s modernization, was he not ideologically demarcating
himself from his opponents and discrediting them as traditionalists, as enemies of modernity?
Thus, in one of his speeches, he defined himself as the one who “outlined for our beloved country”
a program of “modernization and development.”4 Addressing the Conference of Independent
African States in Ghana in 1958, he speaks of “the duty and responsibility of the Independent
African States to further this development and to bring the benefits of modern civilization to
increasingly large numbers of people in Africa.”5 Be it noted that the emphasis here is less on the
imperative of building self-reliant and independent countries, which would reveal a nationalist
inspiration in the Japanese manner, than on the advantages of harnessing African countries to the
West, that is, to the neocolonial world.
In order to achieve this stated goal, the first thing that the emperor did was to provide his
enlightened guidance, in particular as concerns the importance of modern education. He opened
modern schools and exhorted young Ethiopians to learn Western methods and skills in these
schools. His second action was to establish close economic and political ties with Western
countries, especially with the United States. His third action was to reform the state with the view
of setting up a centralized and interventionist system of government thanks to a widespread
bureaucracy, a standing army, and a police force. In his eyes, to implement the program of
modernization that he outlined, he must be able to rely on a strong state that is fully dedicated to
him, the only way by which he could defeat all those traditionalists who refuse change on account
of protecting tradition.
Once a modernizing mission is ascribed to the state, the survival of the ruling political elite
depends on how well the promised goal is fulfilled. In light of the autocratic nature of the imperial
regime, the full responsibility for the failure of the promise inevitably fell on Haile Selassie. In
effect, the mounting discontents, whatever their reasons may be, designated the imperial regime
as the only culprit for the failure of the mission. Those who nourished and led the ensuing protests,
in addition to designating the culprit, disseminated the idea that a socialist revolution is the sole
road to the resumption and successful implementation of the promised modernization. According
to them, since imperial autocracy and class privileges blocked the benefits of modernization from
reaching the working people, empowering the class interests of workers to the detriment of the
interests of ruling elites is the one and only remedy to carry out the promise. The majority of
Ethiopian students and intellectuals as well as the military, who appropriated their ideology,
adopted the path of applying the socialist program through the absolute control of state power.
However, because of various reasons, including the absence of social peace stemming from the
politics of exclusion, the expected benefits did not reach the working people. Worse yet, the
conditions of life deteriorated to the lowest point imaginable. This failure opened the opportunity
for ethnonationalists to argue that the real culprit is the all-round hegemony of the Amhara elite in
Ethiopia. Hence the argument that dismantling the centralized state and rebuilding the political
system on the basis of ethnonationalist criteria is the only path to equality, freedom, and justice.
The path is not dependent on the adoption of liberal democracy, which, ethnonationalists maintain,
would neither bring about development nor protect the interests of oppressed ethnic groups. The
projected democracy would be a revolutionary one: in this way, the political reconstruction will
fully retain the interventionist and repressive power of a strong state while serving the interests of
downtrodden ethnic groups.
The three regimes failed to achieve their promised objectives for the same reason, which
is that they refused to reform the state, wrongly or deceivingly attributing the derailment of
modernization to other causes than the structural inadequacy of the Ethiopian state. The extensive
myopia to the need to reform the state, to the extent that it puts the blame on other factors, like
traditionalism, class or ethnic obstructions, and neocolonial impediments, is clearly the
fundamental blind spot of Ethiopian elites. Sure enough, the mentioned factors have their own
contributions, but they all arise from the bent imparted by the political system. To put it bluntly,
the Ethiopian state is designed and operates in such a way as to suck all power from the society in
favor of a group, which, in turn, gives way to the dictatorial rule of one person. So long as the
primary focus is not on the kind of reform that gives back some power of the state to the society,
neither disruptive social conflicts can come to an end, nor a sustained progress of modernization
can take place. Without the institution of a power-sharing system, a lasting end of conflicts is
bound to remain unachievable, just as a sustained modernization is inconceivable unless
communities and individuals evolve from passive subjects into active participants, a change
requiring the recovery of some of their power of agency.
As we saw, the needs of autocratic rule prevented the implementation of necessary reforms
under Haile Selassie. With the Derg, the discrepancy between the inherited socio-economic and
cultural conditions and the perquisites guaranteeing the success of a socialist revolution, as laid
down by Karl Marx (see Introduction), changed socialism into an unrealizable utopia. The attempt
to coercively implement the unrealizable promise turned into a ruthless and barren dictatorship
with disastrous consequences. As to ethnic federalism, the whole idea of generating a federal
system from the consensus of autonomous and sovereign ethnic units quickly deteriorated into
disunity that had to be countered by a tight centralization privileging one ethnic group to the
detriment of the democratic ideal of federalism. As a result, a new form of dictatorship emerged,
this time based on a full-blown ascendency of a group claiming to represent a special ethnic
minority. Their respective failures brought down the three regimes, whose common characteristic
was the clinging to absolute power, even as it contravened their claimed modernizing program.
Autocracy impeded Haile Selassie’s modernizing goal by standing in the way of the reformation
of the political system; the dictatorial rule of a narcissistic man combined with a party filled with
incompetent sycophants installed a dreadful caricature of socialism; the promised democracy and
equality of ethnic federalism reversed into the chauvinist dictatorship of the TPLF.
This last failure added a new danger subsequent to the fanning of ethnic identity, to wit,
the possible disintegration of national unity. Both the threat of disintegration and the rebellion
against the total dominance of the Tigrean elite led to sustained social protests, notably in the
Oromo and Amhara regions, despite the highly repressive responses of the government. These
protests and the acrimony against the continuous hegemony of the TPLF ignited an internal
dissension within the ranks of the ruling coalition party, the EPRDF. As a result, the parliament
nominated Abiy Ahmed as the new Prime Minister of the Federal Democratic Republic of
Ethiopia. The nomination of Abiy, who is an Oromo, ended the 27 years of the TPLF’s dictatorial
rule of Ethiopia. In his inaugural speech, Abiy promised the restoration of national unity,
democracy, and peace with Eritrea. He also pledged to wipe out corruption and other social evils
and accelerate development in all sectors of the Ethiopian economy. As stated in the previous
chapter, after a promising start, Abiy and the dominant Oromo wing of the ruling Prosperity Party
shifted in the direction of installing an Oromo version of the TPLF’s rule so that, after a brief
experience with freedom, the country is back to square one again. Even though the shift announces
another uncertain future, one thing is sure: no lasting and progressive march into the path of
modernization can be achieved without a deep reform of the Ethiopian political system in the
direction of a power-sharing arrangement between all the major stakeholders.
The Imperative of Culture Change

Whatever institutional changes are introduced to give back to society some of its power and raise
the participation of people in political and socioeconomic matters, they would still be just empty
shells with no hope of yielding the expected benefits unless the people in general and elites in
particular develop the values and beliefs appropriate for modernization. We are familiar with the
debate opposing the school of modernization and the Marxist and neo-Marxist approaches over
the issue of the prime cause of modernization (see Chapter 1). The first school argues that cultural
change triggers modernization while the second school ascribes the primary role to changes in the
material conditions of life. For modernization school, the primacy of culture change clearly means
that modernization occurs when traditional beliefs and values are altered, given the acknowledged
fact that where traditionalism prevails the strict maintenance of the status quo in all aspects of life
is de rigueur. By contrast, Marxism argues that what breaks the stubborn resistance of
traditionalism is not the appearance out of the blue of new ideas and values, but the conditioning
material power of needs, challenges, and opportunities springing from the economic system.
Without entering into the various facets of the debate, what we can say is that our study of
the Ethiopian case corroborates neither the position that traditionalism blocked modernization nor
the idea that changes in the material conditions brought about corresponding cultural changes.
Instead, we witnessed the hijacking of imported modern ideas, methods, institutions, and material
infrastructure to enhance the political power of exclusive elites and their hegemonic control over
society. This outcome tells us that nothing happens automatically in the realm of social life: change
in one component does not necessarily entail a concomitant change in the other components. The
debate over the question of knowing which, of the material or spiritual, is primary, does not
properly capture the problem. What we have in reality is mutual conditioning producing a
reciprocal adjustment in the same way as a function and an organ mutually determine each other,
organ and function respectively standing here for material and cultural components. Thus, paucity
of resources and restricted economic growth shape the function in the direction of exclusiveness,
both in terms of values, beliefs, and political institutions. These, in turn, direct and run the material
in a way that feeds on exclusiveness.
That is why the issue of culture change must be dealt with on its own, and not simply
assumed to derive from material changes, as Marxism has it, or from the internalization of Western
values and beliefs, as advocated by modernization school. In dealing directly with the necessity of
taking measures to bring about culture change instead of expecting it to happen, we give ourselves
the opportunity to design tools and cultivate practices and behaviors that are liable to induce
change in due course. Surely, these measures must be those breeding the cultural features
associated with modernity. In opposition to traditionalism, which repeats the past, modernization,
we said, means the liberation of creativity in such a way that creativity becomes a spiritual need,
an inner compulsion. Sustained growth in all aspects of life is unthinkable short of some such
liberation. The desire for mere material gain would require neither the negation of the traditional
society nor the necessity to constantly innovate. In short, modernization kicks off when
achievement becomes a spiritual need beyond and above the pursuit of mere comfort and material
gains.
Here, an important reminder is in order. As argued in Chapter I, change is real only if it
comes from within the culture, that is, when it is self-change, and not a mere copying of Western
values and institutions. As Leopold Senghor warns us, by passively importing Western ideas and
institutions, “all that can happen is that we [Africans] become pale copies of Frenchmen,
consumers not producers of culture.”6 All the more reason for avoiding the servile imitation of the
West is the impossibility of transitioning from traditionalism to modernization if the change does
not come from inside. We said that traditionalism tends to perpetuate the same values, methods,
and type of society from generation to generation. Bound by custom, a traditional society repeats
the same methods of production and keeps the same hierarchical structures and norms. In other
words, it is a closed society and, as such, it is alien to social mobility because ascriptive rights
rather than merit determine the function and status of everyone. Similarly, it is set against
improvements in methods of production because it functions on the principle of protecting
privileges, not of encouraging competitive performance. This stark difference excludes the
possibility of going from traditionalism to modernity through a mere imitation of an external
model. The traditional culture itself must develop from inside the same but customized values and
beliefs as the West or their equivalents.
It is because the import strategy has failed that this study has underlined the need to
understand culture change as self-change. For Ethiopians, it means the generation of their own
version of modernity, the Ethiopianization, so to speak, of modernity. This indigenized version
cannot emerge if modernization is made conditional on a tabula rasa of Ethiopians’ past legacies
and cultural features in favor of Westernization. In fact, the chance of hatching up an original
modernity highly depends on their determination and ability to integrate the traditional with the
modern. The integration amounts to a renaissance, a revival and adaptation of their cultural
personality to new conditions of life. Understood as an active adaptation of a living culture to the
new conditions caused by the expansion and technological advances of the West, modernization
becomes an achievement attainable through the mobilization of creativity, as opposed to being
simply an imitation or a byproduct of changed material conditions.
To achieve this self-regeneration, Ethiopians must engage in a constructive criticism of
their own legacies, the very one that Senghor advocated when, addressing Africans in general, he
invited them “to determine the present value of the institutions and style of life born of these
[African] realities and how to adapt them to the requirements of the contemporary world.”7 Instead
of Westernization or assimilation, modernization becomes a process of synthesis in which the
peculiar legacies of Ethiopia merge with borrowings from the West. Clearly, this need to adapt a
traditional culture to modern conditions makes modernization dependent on the release of
Ethiopian creativity, in line with the spirit of modernity. Taking root in reborn Ethiopian legacies
while reaching out to the West is the way to self-change, which is the only promising road to
modernization.
This synthetic, creative path of modernization is unconceivable, much less implementable
without a thorough and sustained policy of decolonization. As previously suggested, even though
Ethiopia was never formally colonized, the uncritical adoption of the system of education of the
West and of its vision and strategy of modernization has abundantly induced features similar to
those of a colonized country. To the extent that a model that came into existence under different
material, historical, and sociocultural conditions and, on top of that, prides itself on being superior,
is imposed on Ethiopians, the effect could not be anything other than the inducement of all sorts
of disabilities. Among these disabilities, the most serious one is the inculcation of a dependent
mentality. The latter decenters Ethiopians, with the consequence that they see themselves as being
on the periphery of a world in which the West is the center. Because this marginalizing self-
perception nourishes a continuous feeling of dependency, it stimulates neither the taking of
initiatives nor the planning and implementation of a policy of self-reliance.
No exceptional insight is needed to understand that Ethiopians cannot become creators,
and hence modernize properly if they internalize the centrality of the West, thereby fully
acquiescing to the racist allegation of backwardness. Amartya Sen’s idea that development should
be posed in terms of “human agency” rather than just economic factors and indicators, like the
expansion of industry and technology, the rise of gross national product and personal incomes,
leads to the insightful approach viewing “expansion of freedom . . . as both (1) the primary end
and (2) the principal means of development.”8 The approach dictates a strategy that gives priority
to human agency through the promotion of freedoms and opportunities, among which are the
development of democratic institutions and the expansion of civil rights and liberties. The focus
on human agency shifts the question of development from pure development economics to the
primacy of human empowerment. The vital importance of the expansion of freedom to
development goals derives from the realization that what people can do and be is largely dependent
on the representations that they have of themselves. If they work in an empowering environment,
they will define themselves in enhancing terms, the consequence of which is that they will set
themselves great goals and will believe that they have what is required to achieve them.
Conversely, if they live in a sociopolitical environment that causes them to have a low opinion of
themselves, they will be less ambitious and less inclined to think that they have the caliber to
achieve great goals. Worse, self-debasing representations can lead to beliefs and behaviors that
militate against the very idea of defeating poverty and subjugation.
Parenthetically, self-debasing representations go a long way in explaining why in Ethiopia,
as is also the case in the rest of Africa, elites, notably political elites, give in easily to the practice
of mistreating their own people. The practice divorces them from democratic conducts, despite
their frequent talks in which they praise and promise democracy. The reason is obvious:
mistreating their own people is their manner of deflecting the debasement they feel from them to
their own people. In ill-treating their own people, the elite groups convince themselves that they
attain a high opinion of themselves, that they rise above the unenlightened and the backward.
Though native of Africa, they represent the exception to the rule: they are, to use a French colonial
term, the évolués, that is, those who have evolved thanks to Europeanization. Having replaced the
white colonizers, no wonder, then, that they think, act, and rule like colonizers. In mimicking
colonizers, they persuade themselves and, hopefully, the West that they belong to the Western
world. This attitude has little to do with being actually colonized or not. As in the case of Ethiopia,
it stems from the internalization of Eurocentrism and the lack of decolonizing therapy, notably as
regards the contempt for whatever is not “advanced,” Western. As Franz Fanon warns, good
governance remains elusive so long as Third World elites do not get “rid . . . of the very Western,
very bourgeois and therefore contemptuous attitude that the masses are incapable of governing
themselves.”9 The internalization of the colonial contempt and style of government explains the
elites’ equation of modernization with a “civilizing mission.” As this study has shown, the equation
assumes that modernization essentially originates from enlightened rulers imposing, even by
violent means, modern values and methods on native peoples. Because the natives are backward
and reluctant to move in the direction of progress, the enlightened native rules are compelled to
use coercive methods.
Another harmful effect of the internalization of the colonial ideology prevalent in Ethiopia,
as in Africa, is the mistaken belief that what is good for the West is also good for Ethiopia. The
belief forgets that to import norms from the West while Ethiopia is still in a dependent condition
is to perpetuate and deepen the dependency. Priority should be given to recovering centrality
through a vigorous and consistent effort at decolonization in conjunction with the design and
implementation of a policy of self-reliance. For, only after the recovery of cultural independence
can the country relate with the West in a critical and pragmatic way, that is, in a way that
distinguishes the useful from the harmful. The acceptance of the West as superior and advanced
shut off our ability to develop a critical relationship with the West. Cultural decolonization is, to
use Sen’s term, a recovery of freedom, of the ability and means needed to launch a successful
program of development.
Nowhere is a critical relationship with the West more needed than in the field of education.
As is commonly known, it is via the teaching of humanities that the superiority of the West is
thrust into the minds of Ethiopians. The courses teach that the most advanced ideas and beliefs,
starting from Ancient Greek society, were conceived and implemented in the West. This fact
allegedly provides the proof that all that is non-Western is just a cul-de-sac. In earlier chapters, we
saw that the notion of world history—a notion that makes sense only from a Eurocentric
perspective—attributes all the great breakthroughs and achievements to Europeans. In so doing,
the scheme achieves two goals: (1) it portrays non-Westerners as non-historical peoples, and (2) it
positions the West as the center and the driving force of world history. So fashioned, what else
could the study of history be but the learning of self-contempt through the systematic exposure of
Ethiopia’s utter insignificance? The point of decolonization here is not simply to add and include
courses about Ethiopian history and cultures into the curriculum borrowed from the West. It is to
engage in a paradigmatic change so as to come up with a new curriculum that aims both at
deconstructing Eurocentrism and centering Ethiopia.
The Path of Cultural Change

To undertake decolonization, the first step is to get out of the fool’s bargain of Eurocentrism: the
acceptance of a scheme of world history, as constructed according to Western norms and goals,
offers no way out of marginality. The second step is the revival of difference. Indeed, the assertion
of difference goes against the Western compulsion of ranking civilizations as superior and inferior
in that it argues that civilizations are different. Unlike backwardness, difference says that
civilizations, far from failing to attain the same goals as the West, “are traveling along different
roads in pursuit of different ends.”10 The recognition of difference entails, among other things, the
reviewing and reconstruction of Ethiopian history and cultures, no longer from the Western norm
of becoming, to quote Rene Descartes a second time, “masters and possessors of nature,” but from
the self-assigned goal and norms of Ethiopians.11 Some such approach sees and studies Ethiopians
as they saw themselves prior to the arrival of colonizers and advocates the grounding of
modernization on the retrieved identity and centrality. Descartes’s motto is the very one that
colonizers used to marginalize and subdue non-Western peoples, their justification being that they
all failed to be up to the universal injunction of becoming conquerors of nature. In other words, in
failing to develop the social organization and technological means necessary to subdue nature,
non-Westerners give the proof that they do not fully possess the capabilities defining the human
essence.
I myself have attempted to construct a narrative—some elements of which are used in this
book—that centers Ethiopia in a book I published in 1999 titled Survival and Modernization—
Ethiopia’s Enigmatic Present.12 In that book, I recount the saga of a polity committed to the
defense of Orthodox Christianity in an environment plagued with hostile forces. The defense was
not confined to Ethiopians protecting their faith, but, more importantly, it was about fulfilling a
divine assignment to Ethiopia, to wit, the guardianship of the true faith under the leadership of
God’s elected emperors. My study shows how Ethiopia’s traditional sociopolitical organization
and cultural norms as well as major events of its history closely relate to the need to ensure a viable
defense. Hence my bewilderment expressed in this book at the failure of Ethiopian modernization,
as nothing could have provided a better incentive to modernize than the call to shore up the divine
assignment with the modern forces of industry and technology.
It must be clear by now that the advocated recovery of centrality does not mean a return to
the past, but the gathering of support to lean on to move forward in a world fashioned by the West’s
material power and all-round influence, including democratic ideals. The bare truth is that the
acquisition and mastery of modern means is a forced prerequisite for making headway in this
world. Precisely, Ethiopian leaders’ refusal to understand that they have no other choice than to
play the cards dealt by the West largely explains the derailment of modernization. Instead of
copying the West, what was and still is needed is a complex, many-sided program of modernization
that both deconstructs the West and recenters Ethiopia while also integrating the positive elements
of the West.
Needless to say, the ability to recenter Ethiopia by integrating democratic ideals hinges on
the construction of a narrative that includes ethnic diversity in the Ethiopian saga. As a result of
Menelik’s expansion, ethnic groups with different cultures and traditions were incorporated into
the Ethiopian polity. We know, as discussed particularly in Chapter IX, that issues related to
equality led to protests and ethnonationalist political movements with demands ranging from equal
treatment to self-rule and even secession. We also said that the current solution to the problem,
namely ethnic federalism, has two major flaws: one, it is a real threat to national unity; two, it is
incompatible with democratic workings, one of the reasons being that the weakening of national
unity mandates a dictatorial rule to keep the country together. In conjunction with the recognition
of diversity and the reform of the federal system, as suggested in Chapter X, there is, therefore,
the need to improve the system with two essential principles of nationhood, which are, as laid
down by Ernest Renan, “the possession in common of a rich legacy of memories,” and the “present
consent, the desire to live together, the desire to continue to invest in the heritage.”13 The
willingness to live together derives from the hope of a better future, which is conditional on the
implementation of the reforms needed to activate modernization and improve the material
conditions of Ethiopians. As to the first principle of a common motivating legacy, I see no better
way to satisfy it than to recount the active part that the southern peoples played in making the
victory of Adwa against colonial forces possible. Here, I hasten to add that the whole southern
expansion itself must be narrated as an anticolonial move, as actually it was (see the discussion on
the true nature of the southern expansion in Chapter II). Nothing is particularly exceptional in the
suggested narrative, since anticolonial movements have given birth, in Africa as well as in other
parts of the world, to new nations. The fact that an indigenous ruling class took the initiative of
expanding and integrating neighboring ethnic communities to halt colonial advances should be
viewed as an additional asset, as the continuation and rebirth of the Ethiopian epic of survival
through the common goal of countering colonization. In this way, the southern peoples inherit the
history of Ethiopian survival, and this strengthens the faltering sense of Ethiopian nationhood.
Together with a vigorous attempt at decolonization, measures should be taken to reorient
the impact of authority. The reorientation has the specific purpose of moving away from
traditionalism, that is, from the imposition of the unquestionable authority of the past over the
present, as well as from the barren authority that is characteristic of dictatorial rule, which revels
in belittling its own people. As we saw, these two forms of authority block the nurture of an
innovative mind. On the other hand, it is quite clear that the innovative mind cannot appear in a
lax society, a society devoid of rules and power stratification. To say otherwise is to go against the
norms defining modernity. Indeed, we specifically defined modernity by the prevalence of
achievement and merit over ascription and entitlement. Neither achievement nor merit can become
prevalent without discipline and hard work in a society sufficiently inclined to reward
accomplishments. Discipline in this case does not mean mere obedience to authorities, but the
fostering and cultivation of qualities conducive to achievement, to the realization of great tasks.
This kind of authority affiliates more with a coaching than a conservative authority. Nothing great,
that is, nothing enabling us to surpass ourselves can be accomplished without dedication and
sustained discipline. Since both requirements are acquired attitudes, the right government policy
can go a long way in creating a social environment favoring achievement.
Crucial among the measures needed to encourage achievement is the transformation of the
authority exerted in the family, notably in its application to child-rearing. A proper child-rearing
system is liable to bring about culture change because a great part of the personality of human
beings is formed during childhood, especially in the early stage of the relationships between
parents and children. If parents, especially fathers, are too authoritarian, the likelihood is that
children develop a passive, obedient personality that would only serve as a bedrock for the
continuation of authoritarianism. The observation applies also to early schooling: if teachers tend
to chastise initiatives instead of encouraging them, the effect is likely to be the same. In short, if
children are raised in home and school environments that stimulate initiatives, its long-term effect
is to lay the ground for the emergence of a society that values achievement and merit.
Essential for this liberation of creativity is the empowerment of women. Seeing the
importance of mothers in the raising of children, a society that lowers the status and role of women
deprives itself of the opportunity to break out of traditionalism and authoritarianism, one of the
ultimate expressions of which is patriarchy. What better means is there to defeat the traditionalism
embodied in the male-dominated society than the empowerment of women? Where women are
invested with status, that is, where they are given the opportunity to get educated and are liberated
from the curse of early marriage characteristic of traditionalism, to wit, the curse of becoming
child-wives and child mothers, the opportunity to raise the cultural level of the society is
significantly heightened because it endows the upbringing of children with new potentialities. The
new potentialities stem from the fact that the person most responsible for the upbringing of children
is finally treated with respect. This respect, in turn, increases the authority of the mother in her
relationships with her children, and this greatly elevates the educational power of the family. As
Emmanuel Todd puts it, “the educational power of a family system may well be determined by the
strength of maternal authority.”14 Notably, the elevation goes in the direction of awakening
children's self-reliance and the attendant disposition for discipline, the reason being that the loving
authority of a mother tends to behave not so much as a model to follow as a constant source of
emotional motivation and support. Citing statistics, David C. McClelland maintains that “boys
whose mothers did not encourage their early self-reliance, or did not set … high standards of
excellence, tended to develop lower need for achievement.”15 And if, in direct opposition to
traditionalism, the society encourages initiatives by the provision of incentives, it radically lowers
the negative impact of authoritarianism. An authoritarian society tends to punish behaviors that
seem to defy established or imposed norms. Specifically, since the objective of authoritarianism is
to mold obedient people, initiative is viewed as impertinence, even more as insubordination vis-à-
vis the established hierarchical order. On the other hand, a society that rewards initiatives shows
that the norm, the expected behavior is no longer obedience, but advancement through innovative
dissent.
The goal of changing culture can also greatly benefit from a reform of Ethiopian Orthodox
Christianity as well as, of course, of Islam. As regards Orthodox Christianity, I am specifically
thinking of the notion of idil. Previous chapters have underlined the importance of this notion,
notably the fact that it played an inspiring and justifying role in the open power game characteristic
of the traditional system. The sense of being divinely elected injected ambitiousness into
individuals and manifested itself in constant political confrontations for positions of authority.
While the inspiration was a positive trait, its preferred manifestation in the form of political
conflicts was not, because it encouraged war and warlike values. To reform belief in idil would
then be to steer its propensity for confrontational manifestations towards constructive goals, for
instance towards accomplishments in the economic field. In this way, instead of war and war
victories, success in the production of wealth would be viewed as a sign of divine election. Nothing
could accelerate more the modernization of Ethiopia than this association between the production
of wealth and divine election. Some such divine sanction would detach the production of wealth
from greed or the pursuit of comfort and assimilate it to an undertaking defined in terms of
accomplishment of a religious calling, thereby turning it into a systematic, innovative, and
insatiable effort. Obviously, the values of modernity, that is, the values of competition and
achievement in an open and free society, are the royal road to living idil fully.
One last point: the emphasis on the need to alter authority in the direction of coaching does
not lose sight of the transformations that have already occurred. To tell the truth, it is no longer
possible to define Ethiopian society as an authoritarian society. It is fair to say that nothing, outside
family ties and religious allegiances, really commands respect and deference. Revolutionary
shakeups, the propagation of ethnic grievances, the demonization of inherited legacies, and
generalized disappointments over expectations have debunked all that used to be venerated. In
particular, the political system and hierarchy have been and remain seriously discredited. As a
result of this lack of legitimacy, the state does not command authority: it rules by coercion,
violence, and fear rather than by the deference coming from the citizens. Under this condition of
generalized disgrace, the very value of the pursuit of achievement and merit is tarnished. Instead,
obsequiousness and servility induced by sheer calculation are viewed as the features needed to rise
in status and rank.
This loss of respectability to the existing political system makes it quite clear that the
progress of modernization principally depends on the reform of the state. However, for the
reformed political system to bring about a sustained and consistent march towards modernization,
the change of the cultural setup must be undertaken concomitantly. Without cultural change, the
reform of the political system cannot be sustained: as previous failures have shown, it will fall
back on its ever-present derailing tendency. The need to undertake simultaneous cultural and
political changes amounts to saying that modernization does not occur by fiat. It necessitates a
lengthy process during which various components interact to produce a common result. The proper
political guidance is crucial, just as is the receptivity of society. The advocated modifications in
governmental policies and attitudes, in child-rearing and schooling systems, as well as in religious
significations and narration of common history, all geared towards the inculcation of achievement
values and discipline to the detriment of authoritarianism, ascription, and laxity, are all proven
means to nurture the receptivity of society.
1
Kostas Loukeris, “Contending Political Ideologies in Ethiopia after 1991: The Role of Intellectuals,” Polis, Revue
Camerounaise de Science Politique 12, no. special (2004 – 2005).
http://polis.sciencespobordeaux.fr/vol12ns/loukeris.pdf
2
John Locke, The Second Treatise of Government and A Letter Concerning Toleration (New York: Dover
Publications, 2002), 351.
3
See “The Declaration of Independence & the Constitution of the United States,” U.S. Citizenship and Immigration
Services. https://www.uscis.gov/sites/default/files/document/guides/M-654.pdf
4
Haile Selassie, Selected Speeches of His Imperial Majesty Haile Selassie, 1918-1967 (New York: Createspace
Independent Publishing Platform, 2011), 97.
5
Ibid., 190.
6
Leopold Senghor, Prose and Poetry (London: Heinemann, 1976), 49.
7
L. Senghor, “Constructive Elements of a Civilization of African Negro Inspiration,” Présence Africaine 24-25
(1959), 292.
8
Amartya Sen, Development as Freedom (New York: Anchor Books, 1999), 36.
9
Franz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth (New York: Grove Press, 1965), 188.
10
Ruth Benedict, Patterns of Culture (New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2005), 223.
11
Rene Descartes, Discourse on Method (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1998), 35.
12
See Messay Kebede, Survival and Modernization--Ethiopia’s Enigmatic Present: A Philosophical Discourse
(Lawrenceville, N.J.: The Red Sea Press Inc., 1999).
13
Ernest Renan, “What is a Nation?”, text of a conference delivered at the Sorbonne on March 11th, 1882, UC Paris.
http://ucparis.fr/files/9313/6549/9943/What_is_a_Nation.pdf
14
Emmanuel Todd, The Causes of Progress (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1987), 17.
15
David C. McClelland, “The Achievement Motive in Economic Growth,” Political Development and Social Change
(London: John Wiley and Sons, 1971), 84.

Ethiopian Modernization Opportunities and Derailments

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Ethiopian Modernization Opportunities and Derailments

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ETHIOPIAN MODERNIZATION: OPPORTUNITIES

EPLF Eritrean People's Liberation Front

Modernization theories include an amalgam of views on economic growth, which

So defined, modernization seems far removed from an explanation involving commitments to

Modernity versus Tradition

development implies a graduation—a series of increasingly adequate expressions or

The Ethos of Survival

Diverse Roads to Modernization

Survey of Ethiopia’s Survival: Definition and Controversies

Ethiopia and the Concept of Survival

Ethiopia’s Southern Expansion

Regardless of whether the Japanizers had an adequate understanding of Japanese modernization

Controversies Surrounding Ethiopian Survival

The Colonial Issue

The Ethiopian Forces of Survival

State and Church

The Kibre Negest

Imperial Power and Regionalism

There is nothing new beneath the sun

Eurocentric versus Ethio-centric Approaches to Ethiopia’s

The Eurocentric Paradigm

Modernizing Potentials of Traditional Ethiopia

Derailment versus Obstacles

Derailed Modernization: The Imperial Phase

The Imperial Interpretation of Modernization

The people of Europe were like us:

Autocracy and its Aftermaths

The Imperial Educational System and Eurocentrism

The Radicalization of Ethiopian Students

The Manufactured Nature of Radicalism

Uprootedness and Globality

Imitativeness and Elitism

The Overthrow of the Imperial Regime

On some Necessary Distinctions

The Game-Changing Role of the Derg

Derailed Modernization: The Derg’s Phase

The Radicalization of the Derg

The Derg’s Struggles for Power and their Radicalizing Effects

A grandiose sense of self-importance or uniqueness and preoccupation with fantasies of

Controversies over the Revolution

At this stage, it is necessary to give a conceptual framework to a distinction between two

Disjunction between State Power and Modernization

Derailed Modernization: The Ethnonationalist Phase

The Ethnonationalist Turn

The term “ethnonationalism” characterizes political movements claiming to represent

The Nature of Ethnonationalism

Modernization, Ethnicity, and Developmentalism

The culture of statehood in Ethiopia has long been—and remains—hierarchical and

As to Switzerland, a development akin to India took place resulting in the formation of “a

Assessment and Outcomes

Where to, Ethiopia?

Policy Volte-Face or Stratagem?

Intra-Coalition Competition and Social Discontents

Recapitulation and Therapeutic Roadmap

Let us recapitulate the main findings of our study.

Disabilities of Ethiopian Modern State

In sharp contrast to a participatory or power-sharing state, the political system that is

The Imperative of Culture Change

The Path of Cultural Change

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