Ethiopians, mired in identity-based violence, should look at Rwanda's history
(OPINION) On Feb. 20, 1994, the New York Times ran a fascinating article titled “The Land Where God Dwells,” and it said: “It is here that the oldest branch of African Christianity still flourishes, its hymns resounding in churches carved from living rock in the holy city of Lalibela. And for many people of African heritage across the world, it is here that the biblical Zion is located, making Ethiopia the land where God dwells.”
The Holy Quran also mentions Ethiopia (Abyssinia) in a very refreshing way. When Muslims were persecuted, an angel appeared to the Prophet Mohammed and advised him to send his followers to Abyssinia. As advised, Prophet Mohammed told his followers to go to Abyssinia, a country led by a just, Christian king. He also told them, “The king will not harm you, and you will be able to worship Allah.”
The developments during the last few decades have seriously challenged those descriptions of Ethiopia. During the first few years of the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front’s (EPRDF) rule, Ethiopia witnessed identity-based attacks like never before, and many felt unsafe leaving Addis Ababa. That unfortunate experience caused people to say, “The farther you go from Addis, the further you go from justice.” One can build on this and argue, the further you go from your faith, the further you go from justice, as our faith and moral values serve as the highest standard against which we judge our deeds.
What is happening in Ethiopia and the world at large is a perfect reminder that we live in a time that requires serious reflections. Because of the pandemic that hit the globe, the populist movements that swept the world, the ethnic and political violence that threatened Africa and the Middle East, the deep polarization and demonization of the “other” in the U.S. and Europe, we realize the world is in trouble. Even more troubling is people’s use of religion to advance their political agenda.
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Yes, we all are children of God, but where does the hate and demonization come from? John 15:12 says “Love each other as I have loved you.” How can we say we love God/Allah, when we kill our brothers and sisters? How can we say we are loving and caring when our actions demonstrate the contrary? If one targets fellow humans based on their faith or identity, that is devilish.
Using Rwanda as a case study, this essay highlights the danger Ethiopia faces, and calls for genuine and structural interventions. Above all, this essay calls for collective actions for our collective problems.
I’ve spent more than 10 years researching on and traveling to Rwanda. Rwanda’s genocide was one of the cases for my dissertation, I presented a paper at the security symposium in 2015, and I have been serving at the University of Rwanda as a visiting professor since 2015/16. I travel to Rwanda every year in March and offer two courses. My research on Rwanda and my teaching experience have given me insights into Rwandan politics, culture and history.
The genocide against the Tutsi did not start in 1994. I would argue that the genocide had been in the making since 1959. Ethnic conflicts and identity-based attacks had occurred since 1959. Rwanda experienced violence in the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s and culminated in the 1994 genocide. What made the 1994 incident so tragic was the active role of media (RTLM radio station and Kangura newspaper) in spreading hate speech. I concur with those who concluded “Without RTLM, the genocide would have never been the fastest genocide in modern history.”
Although there are so many important differences between the pre-genocide Rwanda and today’s Ethiopia, one can establish some parallels between the two. These parallels will underscore the gravity of the situation the country and the current administration face.
Consider the three significant parallels. The first target of the architects of the genocide in Rwanda was Prime Minster Agathe Uwilingiyimana, a moderate Hutu. Uwilingiyimana did not subscribe to the radical Hutu’s genocidal policy and that made her a prime target of the extremist and soon-to-be genocidal Hutus. She was killed during the first few days. The current PM of Ethiopia is an Oromo, but he strongly believes in leading a unified nation. That has put him, like PM Uwilingiyimana in Rwanda, on a collision course with ethno-nationalist groups in his country.
Second, like Rwanda, perpetrators of recent attacks have used identity cards to identify and attack targets. According to the Associated Press, “Local reports have said that in some places ethnic Oromo have attacked ethnic Amhara.” For example, “in Shashamane town some people were going home to home checking identity cards and targeting Amhara residents.” More disturbing, the Voice of America reported that Christian Oromos also were targeted and killed because of their faith.
Finally, like pre-genocide Rwanda, some media outlets preach hate as if they have a license to do so. They frequently invoke freedom of expression in order to defend their right to spread hateful and possibly genocidal rhetoric. In reality, freedom of expression does not include the freedom to incite violence. Our freedom ceases to exist when we use our freedom to encroach on others’ rights. So, the government has an obligation to draw a line to prevent individuals from encouraging and inciting violence under the guise of freedom of expression.
Social media have further complicated the already tense situation. The narrative of hate and division in Ethiopia has been fueled by social media. Social media have become a most serious challenge for many societies with weak regulatory capabilities. Unless, we find ways to manage the unintended effects of social media, there will be grave consequences. The role social media played in ethnic cleansing in Myanmar is a powerful reminder.
The Ethiopian government has a responsibility to provide public goods (which includes ensuring public safety) and maintain peace and harmony. There can be reasons for blaming government for the delay in bringing perpetrators to justice in previous attacks. However, blaming the government for its endeavor to uphold the rule of law during the last few weeks does not serve any purpose.
The killing of a prominent Ethiopian singer and activist, Hachalu Hundessa, on June 29, and the violence that followed clearly demonstrated our collective vulnerability. Following the assassination, some media outlets broadcast programs that contributed to the violence. That is irresponsible and unacceptable behavior from media houses, so they should be held accountable for their roles in the violence. Regulating hate media is part of promoting freedom of expression. The two are not mutually exclusive. Both local and international institutions should discharge their responsibilities of holding accountable those who incite violence in the name of exercising freedom of expression.
I recently saw a debate on Facebook about the number of people killed: 166 vs 239. The people who argue that the number is 166 may assume that since 166 is less than 239, we should not be that worried. We should not be comforted by the “low” number of deaths; i.e. 166. The death of one person is too many. We all need to be worried.
We should ask ourselves why have places like Shashemene, Bale, Harar, etc., become centers of violence on a regular basis? Why are people targeted because of their identities? How do we break these cycles of violence? Most importantly, why do people fail to care for the most vulnerable people? These are some of the questions that we need to ask. Anything short of that will not help Ethiopia address its century-old challenges that have recently resulted in horrific instances of violence.
Fortunately, some plausible solutions exist in political, legal, spiritual, etc., forms. The Ethiopian government, the international community, civil societies and other stakeholders should work together to address the structural causes of violence in the country and build institutions that would move the country forward. Bringing those behind the recurring violence to justice and putting mechanisms in place to prevent similar violence in the future should be part of the way forward.
As part of a spiritual intervention, Ethiopians need to go back to the basics. For most Ethiopians, their lives are inseparable from their faith. Others tend to return to their faith when faced with enormous challenges. One commonality for both groups is that Ethiopians return to our faith for inspiration and guidance.
Returning to our historic practices and returning to the basics will help many to liberate themselves from deep-rooted hate. A departure from faith and core values is a dangerous recipe for mutual destruction. The further we stray from faith, the further we stray from justice.
Dr. Zenebe Beyene is a professor of Journalism at the University of Mississippi. Previously he was an assistant dean and head of the Office External Relations, Partnerships and Communications at Addis Ababa University in Ethiopia. His views are his own and do not necessarily reflect his publisher’s or employer’s.