Western diplomats slowly giving up on TPLF, advising US government to cut ties:
If You Give Tyranny a Cookie
Stop Carrying the Ethiopian Government’s Water
Two weeks ago, over fifty people were killed by a stampede in Bishoftu, Ethiopia after the army and national police fired tear gas at a mixed crowd of protesters and Irreechaa festival-goers. In a year that has seen at least 500 people in Oromia and Amhara killed in anti-government protests, the stampede’s aftermath was the tragedy that caused the kettle to boil over. The Ethiopian government took steps to declare a six-month state of emergency (with commensurate limits on freedom of expression and assembly), and the State Department responded with a
press statement marked by elevated wording: “This declaration, if implemented in these ways, would further enshrine the type of response that has failed to ameliorate the recent political crisis.” U.S. Embassy Addis Ababa, in its frankest acknowledgment yet of the ongoing crisis, encouraged Ethiopians to express themselves freely
on its Facebook wall. Then, over this past weekend, the Ethiopian government codified (among other things) limitations on social media and internet usage. Since Friday, the embassy’s Facebook page and Twitter feed have remained silent. There is nothing stopping State from continuing to engage in a public dialogue on social media; what VPNs in Addis Ababa cannot overcome, limitless resources in Foggy Bottom can. Is it in preparation for a reevaluation of the virtue of responding to wanton imprisonment and state violence with platitudes? Or is it, as I fear, acquiescence?
Our relationship with Ethiopia is one of the most important on the African continent, and the official U.S. government presence in Addis Ababa reflects this: the city’s largest embassy, approximately 170 American diplomats and officials (principally from USAID), over USD $650 million in annual development aid. There is a myriad of American-underwritten programs aimed at combatting anything from infant mortality to female illiteracy to human trafficking. Economic officers work tirelessly to improve accessibility to markets and trade between Ethiopia and the United States. By and large, the American presence in Ethiopia is overwhelmingly positive for its citizens.
The American government’s ability to effect a better life for Ethiopians is, however, reliant on the Ethiopian government’s status as a willing and receptive partner. Knowing this, the ruling Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF) wields authoritarian rule with a certain sense of impunity. NGOs receiving more than ten percent of their funding from foreign sources are barred from human rights and advocacy work. Anti-terrorism laws have given the government broad scope to detain and imprison journalists and opposition politicians (often under the guise that they are working in conjunction with organizations labeled as domestic terrorist groups, or foreign actors such as al-Shabaab, Egypt, Eritrea, or seditious diaspora groups). The 2010 parliamentary election saw 545 out of 547 seats go to EPRDF or EPRDF-allied parties; the 2015 results raised this number by two to an absolute majority. It is an understatement to say that, from a context of democracy, human rights, and governance, American and EPRDF values are not in alignment.
Despite the wide chasm between USG and EPRDF ideas on how to govern, the United States has gone out of its way to praise Ethiopian democracy. And not simply in a nascent-democracy-taking-bigger-steps sort of way, as is common between the State Department and developing nations; officials at the highest levels have heaped praise on their EPRDF counterparts in ways that simply undercut all the Human Rights reports and anti-terrorism trial observers and statements of “deep concern” from the ambassador. Embassy Addis’ radio silence since last week is on the more benign side of the spectrum of assent. In 2012, following the death of Prime Minister Meles Zenawi, then-U.S. Ambassador to the UN Susan Rice called Zenawi “uncommonly wise,” a “true visionary.” That is exceptionally high praise for someone who architected the institutionalization of quashing dissent through violence and imprisonment. As a very junior Foreign Service Officer in Embassy Addis’ political-economic section back then, I couldn’t believe my ears following Ambassador Rice’s eulogy; a considerable number of evenings were spent walking my dog around the Bole neighborhood, wondering what exactly we hoped to achieve with such troubling rhetoric (a vote of confidence in the new prime minister, Hailemariam Desalegn, I suppose). And last year, when President Obama became the first sitting president to visit Ethiopia, he publicly claimed that the Ethiopian government had been “democratically elected.” Yes, elections had recently been held, but these elections were marked by opposition intimidation, mass incarceration, and wholesale government control of information and media. Calling recent parliamentary elections “democratic” was a slap in the face to our own ideals, and ironically damaging to our long-term goals of assisting Ethiopia in developing true democracy.
So why do we do it, then? Why carry the water of a regime that seemingly goes out of its way to conduct a fresh round of journalist arrests just before an African Union summit? The reason, as far as I can surmise, is access, particularly access to a nominally stable bilateral relationship. There is a symbiosis between the American and Ethiopian governments, a need to point to our successes in developing a more prosperous Ethiopia. There is a dangling carrot model, in which the USG funnels hundreds of millions of dollars in developmental aid, and can partially reap the political benefits of sustained economic growth.
Our aid dollars are working, officials say. And, to both governments’ credit, Ethiopia is far and away better off than it was before EPRDF took over. But that was almost twenty-five years ago. The baton handoff between the United States (and greater international community) and EPRDF for the underwriting of its citizens’ development is not happening anytime soon. Meanwhile, the American government manages to extract concessions from EPRDF that
allow it to counter al-Shabaab in Somalia in as hands-off a manner possible (see: a drone base in Arba Minch, now closed; AMISOM). I often wonder if it all comes down to that fact.
The problem with this model is that, given conflicting definitions of good governance, there will come a time when a sufficiently-developed Ethiopia will no longer see the United States as a necessary (or even worthwhile) partner. We have already begun seeing the initial stages of this transition. If you travel to Addis Ababa today, you’ll see a city undergoing a near-total transformation. Construction sites are everywhere; a new light rail line weaves through the main streets. Invariably, these projects are Chinese-financed. (The most famous example is the new African Union headquarters, a USD $300 million “gift” from the Chinese government.) Like many sub-Saharan nations, perennially cash-strapped Ethiopia sees the opportunity of cheap infrastructure projects and industrial complexes as too good to pass up. Given the political threats against the U.S. Export-Import Bank, as well as the fact that the PRC government can undercut any American firm on price (in the most price-sensitive continental market), can you blame Ethiopia? A general principle on American aid is that it comes without strings attached. An hour in Addis will tell you that the United States has already lost the battle for Ethiopia’s economic partnership. On our current course, the day will inevitably come when EPRDF view of the United States government shifts from political partner to liability, and we’ll have lost the ear of Africa’s second-largest country.
Ethiopia currently finds itself at an inflection point, one in which measurable opposition to EPRDF grows by the day. By no means am I advocating for the United States government to fan the flames. The Ethio-American relationship is one of the longest-lasting and most storied in all of Africa. Backing EPRDF into a corner by throwing our support behind a nebulous, undefined opposition would threaten to undo more than a century of progress. But it is clear that the current system of sacrificing long-term political-economic growth and transformation in favor of the short-term gains of blanket accolades and hollow raising of concerns (a phrase used so ubiquitously that it is now shorthand for a shrug) is not working. Diplomacy is never simple, and it always moves slowly. It will be an even harder endeavor in Ethiopia in the near future, without freedom of movement for diplomats outside of the Addis Ababa outskirts without prior GOE approval, or Facebook, or Voice of America. But when the time comes for choosing whether or not to lavish praise on EPRDF, it is my sincere hope that the State Department will consider what an earnest application of our core values could mean to the 90 million people living outside of the Prime Minister’s palace in Arat Kilo, and choose to say nothing.