Is Christian Imperialism On The Rise And Tearing Ethiopia Apart?
Soldiers in Ethiopia. Creative Commons photo by Jonathan Alpeyrie.
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(OPINION) Religious and political ethics lecturer Andrew DeCort writes extensively on the issues Ethiopia is facing with the expressed interest to be a bridge-builder.
While I applaud his passion for being a bridge-builder and advocating for peace, I disagree, particularly with his recent article that has appeared on Foreign Policy. In the article, he made a bold claim that “Christian nationalism is tearing Ethiopia apart.” I believe his conclusion is based on false, shallow, and highly emotive reading and analysis of Ethiopia’s sociopolitical history.
In his attempt to condemn one kind of violence, he is feeding a monster of violence — ethnocentric radicalism, the biggest threat to Ethiopia's national unity. There is an embedded dismissiveness or bias toward the genuine efforts the country is making, as demonstrated by DeCort’s idealistic understanding of the evolution of the current complex conflict.
His views are not only misleading but polarizing and dangerously divisive. What is tearing Ethiopia apart is not Christian nationalism. Rather, it is ethnocentrism that is fueling political and religious violence.
A misreading of Ethiopia’s imperial past
DeCort is correct in his analysis that with the conversion of Ezana around the year 330, the monarchy and church functioned hand-in-glove until 1974. This makes Ethiopia the longest-surviving Christendom.
However, he asserts that being “Orthodox defined identity and belonging in imperial Ethiopia for more than 1,000 years” — this is an irrational and dangerous conclusion. This statement means non-Orthodox, and therefore the non-Amhara and Tigray, were not regarded as Ethiopian citizens until a random past about 1,000 years ago. DeCort has failed, however, to substantiate his claim.
Ethiopia’s current crisis is fueled by a misunderstanding of its rich, complex sociopolitical and ecclesiastical history. As the cycle of writing, reinterpreting and rewriting history goes on, so does the cycle of alienation, mistrust, dominance and violence. The June 18, 2022, massacre of Amhara in Ghimbi District of East Wollega Zone, Tolle Kebele, in the Oromia region, is a vivid example.
Antique crowns are displayed in the collection of the treasury of the Chapel of the Tablet in Axum, Ethiopia. Creative Commons photo by A. Davey.
Like any other nation with a long history, Ethiopia’s political history requires an objective reading as a succession of epochs, each shaped both by local and global sociopolitical events. It is unjust to read the past through the enlightenment of the present. With some risk of oversimplification, Ethiopia’s history can be classified under four major historical paradigms:
Imperial Ethiopia, with Ezana as the first king, ended the downfall of Emperor Haile Selassie, the last of the dynasty, in 1974.
The military government, known as the Derg, (1974-1991) ended the period of monarchy and Christendom. Initially, the revolution had no clear, fixed ideology. Communism, however, rapidly prevailed due to both internal and external dynamics, culminating in the 1987 establishment of the People’s Democratic Republic of Ethiopia under an authoritarian one-party system, the Workers' Party of Ethiopia.
The Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front was a coalition of ethnic-based rebel forces that ruled from 1991 to 2018. The Tigray People’s Liberation Front had control of the Democratic Front and its subsidiary parties and was the principal architect of ethnolinguistic federalism.
That brings us to the current reformation of the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front, which the Tigray People’s Liberation Front rejected, retreating to Mekelle, Tigray. The new reform renamed the Democratic Front the Prosperity Party in December 2019.
In all these periods, all citizens were considered Ethiopians regardless of their social class.
The nation’s political landscape has significantly changed in the last almost half-century. Nonetheless, the question of a creative and healthy balance between centralism and regional particularism remains a lingering challenge. As this tension reached its climax, it became one of the major reasons for the downfall of Emperor Haile Selassie, resulting in the Marxist revolution.
The Marxist military government was highly autocratic but had managed to be far more ethnically even-handed than imperial Ethiopia ever was. It failed, however, to grant Eritrea regional autonomy and self-governance, triggering the longest war in Africa. When the Tigray People’s Liberation Front came into power, it moved the country from centralism to the extreme side of regionalism. In practice, the Tigray political elitists took the upper hand at the center and replaced Amharan elitism. In the same way that the Amhara were equated with the monarchy, the narrative of equating the Tigray People’s Liberation Front with Tigray continued.
Throughout Ethiopian history, each political, social, ethnic and even religious interest group has competed to turn the retrospective prism in the direction that favors their status in relation to the rest of Ethiopia.
Regionalism has, wittingly or unwittingly, provided a fertile ground for all forms of ethnic and religious extremism. Class distinction and elitism during the feudal system, communist dictatorship and ethnic-based authoritarianism are the political profiles of Ethiopia. Contrary to DeCort’s assertion — and this is crucial to understand — none of the above political paradigms denied the “Ethiopian-ness” of any region in the country.
Ethiopia is a mosaic — a nation inseparably knit together by over 84 ethnolinguistic people groups, each with its unique beauty. As diverse as it is, its people share commonalities across language, cultural history and values. DeCort’s analysis and interpretations are not only polarizing but dangerously perpetuate violence by feeding false narratives. Unless walls of fear and suspicion based on past history — both true and false narratives — are transcended with genuine understanding, national reconciliation and unity appear to be more and more elusive.
A negative view of the missionary expansion of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church
Ethiopia is a product of gradual imperial expansion, and in this drama of political expansion, the church was a major factor. One cannot read Ethiopia’s political history discerningly without paying attention to the role that the church has played in shaping the country’s identity as Africa’s independent nation. Even at its most vulnerable times, during the invasion of Somali General and Imam Ahmad ibn Ibrahim — widely known as Ahmad Gragň (the left-handed) — from 1529 to 1543 and the incursion of the Catholic Church, both the emperors and the Ethiopian church defended the territorial and Christian integrity of their kingdom despite an incredible theological pressure on the church to acknowledge papal authority.
As DeCort acknowledges, the emperors were defenders of both religion and government. However, he negatively reads the crown-altar relational dynamic in light of the 21st century. His critique is anachronistic — a simplistic and shallow analysis.
Naturally, the imperial expansion meant the spreading of northern, traditional Christian culture and the Amharic language into recently acquired territories. This is just in the same way Christianization and Westernization have been intertwined. There was sporadic violence, as DeCort points out, especially in resolving theological controversies as exhibited both by Yohannes IV and his successor, Menilk. Compared to any religious expansions elsewhere, the Ethiopian Orthodox Church’s was relatively peaceful. DeCort picks some isolated violent incidents and reads his evangelical lens to the self-understandings of Ethiopian Emperors, thus undermining their sincere — although not always effective and at times forceful — missionary endeavors as best they knew. Keep in mind that the Ethiopian Orthodox Church has suffered from a lack of trained clergy and was under the leadership of the Coptic Church of Alexandria, which was linguistically and culturally indifferent. It was only in 1929 that Alexandria grudgingly appointed five bishops, and even then, they remained under Egyptian headship.
Finally, in 1959, the church became independent, with Basilios as the first Ethiopian Abune. His interpretation perceives the Ethiopian Orthodox Church as a negative force, inflaming the perpetuation of violence. A cherry-picked and anachronistic reading of Ethiopia’s story and current difficult chapter — as DeCort has done — is disheartening.
Even if the church’s missionary movement were violent, as DeCort’s analysis indicates, how is that unique from contemporary religious conquests? Quite frankly, his critical view of Ethiopia’s imperial expansion is hypocritical. Contrary to DeCort’s negative analysis, the imperial/religious expansion in Ethiopia was far more peaceful and less violent than Western imperialism, which was wedded to Christianity.
Slavery, racism, segregation and the current system of injustice in our world cannot be explained without the violent aspect of the Christian Global North’s colonial conquest of the Global South. The long path of democracy in the Global North was bloody and still struggles to maintain its reputation as a credible alternative.
DeCort’s claim that ‘in Abiy’s Ethiopia, Christian imperialism is resurgent’
DeCort has labored to prove his claim that ancient Christian imperialism is resurging in Ethiopia by drawing parallels between ancient Ethiopian rulers’ “messianic self-understanding” and that of contemporary leaders. This is a far-fetched and deeply misguided argument that shows his poor understanding of the history of Ethiopian evangelicalism. Ethiopia’s two largest evangelical denominations — probably constituting up to 75% of all evangelicals — are the Ethiopian Kale Heywot Church, predominantly from the south, and the Ethiopian Mekane Yesus Church, prominent among the Oromo people. It makes no sense that these two large, predominantly non-Amhara/non-Tigray Protestant groups want the resurrection of Ethiopia’s imperial past.
There is indeed a tendency within Ethiopian Christianity to stretch the meaning of verses like “Ethiopia shall soon stretch forth her hands unto God” (Psalm 68:31). I do not believe that any Gentile nation should read its history into sacred Scriptures. This temptation is not peculiar to Ethiopia. Some within American evangelicalism, Afrikaners and the Christian colonizers in the past have read their stories into the Bible. The tendency toward eisegesis is as Ethiopian as it is human. As DeCort recognizes, more than 97% of Ethiopians are religious. In times of drought and famine, war and national crisis, Ethiopians pray and seek hope from the sacred texts of the Bible.
Certainly, his allegation that the “core belief is that Ethiopia is a Christian nation created and destined by God for greatness under Christian leadership ... is supercharging enmity and silencing critical voices calling for the end of war, genuine dialogue, and an inclusive Ethiopia where diverse people can belong together,” is a great injustice to the country and overly simplifies its complex crisis. While I agree with him that the government has failed its mandate to uphold justice and build a righteous society, he ignores — at least in this particular article — the genesis and complexities of the current crisis.
The ball is in the Tigray People’s Liberation Front’s court to cease hostilities and cynically divisive speech and violent acts. The TPLF’s hand is behind its ally with ethnic rebels such as the OLA, responsible for mass killings of Amhara and other selected ethnic groups who live in Oromia region, the militant Gumuz sects in Benishangul-Gumuz and related sporadic violence in the various pocket of the country.
In fairness to DeCort, it is incontestable that Ethiopian evangelicalism has fallen prey to the “prosperity gospel.” The few proponents of “dominion theology” who skillfully use the media do not speak for Ethiopian evangelicalism. The overwhelming majority of evangelical leaders reject these teachings and their claims. Despite its many weaknesses, Ethiopian evangelicalism has many decent leaders.
DeCort’s overreaching claim does not do justice to this reality. Abiy may have acted in good faith to unify the divided evangelical community in the same way that he did within both the Expansion of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church and the Muslim communities. The schism in both of those was due to the effect of ethnocentrism. In my opinion, his direct involvement in the evangelical churches and the steps taken were mistakes for many reasons; and unlike the other two faith communities, the evangelicals are highly autonomous, making unity a very arduous task.
Yes, there has been silence within faith communities (see my article) in the face of injustice, particularly within the evangelicals. But DeCort’s generalization of evangelicals as “complacent” is simplistic. There are three factors he has failed to see. First, under the first two political paradigms mentioned above, the evangelicals were marginalized and severely persecuted. Second, in the last two paradigms, the “religious freedom” they received became a political trap. Finally, there was an otherworldly oriented self-understanding, focusing on “things above” rather than things of the Earth.
A utopian reading of Ethiopia’s current complex war and the need for peace
War is ugly. As far as the crisis in Tigray is concerned, there are five extreme views that we must resist:
First is the view that sees the peaceful people of Tigray through the lens of the Tigray People’s Liberation Front oppressors.
Second is the view that demands blind ethnic loyalty to the elite TPLF’s oppressors. It is unjust and immoral to deny the historical reality of the TPLF’s major share in human suffering in the nation. The people of Tigray are included as many of the victims.
Third is the view that exclusively holds the TPLF accountable while overlooking the proportional responsibility of other members under the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front political umbrella. In the reform that emerged from the EPRDF, a public apology described its rule as “state terrorism.”
Fourth is the view that denies the fact that the TPLF launched this avoidable war, including provoking Eritrea into joining. On the evolution and analysis of the events that led to the war, please see my article.
Fifth is the view that denies the proportional responsibilities of all parties involved in the war. Atrocities, war crimes, mass killings and violent rapes have been committed by all parties involved — the federal government, the TPLF and the Eritrean troops. This was confirmed by the Joint Report of the Ethiopian Human Rights Commission and Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, and by various human rights groups such as Amnesty International. A report of worse human tragedy followed the second war from July to December 2021. This was when the TPLF invaded the regions of Amhara and Afar after the June 2021 federal declaration of unilateral ceasefire, which forced the government to respond, forcing the TPLF back to Mekelle. The U.N. estimates that 7 million people are in dire need. Eritrea and the TPLF have yet to take responsibility for their part in war crimes.
The TPLF’s early 1976 manifesto, though eventually abandoned, had a vision of an independent republic. That ambition to create a Tigrayan nation subconciously remains today in the TPLF and feeds resentment against the Amhara people in Ethiopia. There is a need for honest conversation, to unmask this ethnocentric narrative and heal wounds between these two great people: Tigray and Amhara.
As painful as it is, it is in the best interests of Tigray to engage in an honest and open dialogue with the people of Eritrea and talk through past animosity, bitterness and mistrust. These two great peoples are intertwined in culture, language, and heritage. One has to keep in mind the historical evolution that caused an inevitable drift between these two brother nations, resulting in more than 100,000 lives lost in war between 1998 and 2000. How is peace possible without engaging Eritrea?
We live in a time where truth and media worthiness are decided by the power of money, politics and sensationalism. The genesis and the complexities of Ethiopia’s current crisis are poorly analyzed, even misleadingly interpreted by media powers in the Global North. This has made human suffering in the country even worse.
DeCort is emerging as yet another misleading Western opinion maker, and his article masks the real problem: the rise of radical ethnolinguistic regionalism. This regionalism is the fountainhead of every form of human suffering: sociopolitical, economic and religious. I cannot hide my disappointment with Abiy’s government, and our heart bleeds with what is happening in the nation. Nonetheless, there is hope, and what Ethiopia needs is numerous leaders who are sincere bridge-builders.
Hypocritical reading and expectations
DeCort’s analysis has completely missed the point that the current government has both inherent and inherited systemic problems. His utopian view of Ethiopian politics has not been afforded the same grace as his world, the Global North, which has indulged itself to the point of abuse in its bloody path of so-called democracy. Ethiopia still has a long way to go, and there is every sincere concern and fear about whether Abiy will live up to his initial vision.
Compared to any election in the majority of the democratic Global North, including the U.S., Ethiopia held a relatively fair and transparent election, despite the fact that it was prejudged and delegitimized by the U.S. and EU. Observers for the African Union, a body of members from 55 African nations, testified:
The pre-election and Election Day processes were conducted in an orderly, peaceful and credible manner. ... The Mission, therefore, commends all Ethiopians for the demonstrated commitment to the democratic development of the country.
Democracy is a journey, a never-ending process toward an ideal. The Western world — most notably the United States — while promoting democracy internationally, nevertheless struggles to live up to its ideals. Its hypocrisies are in plain sight for the people of Ethiopia and other developing nations. Systemic racism, record income inequality, environmental abuses, corruption and allegations of a “stolen election” — all of these comprise the so-called superior human development of Western democracy.
The fact that DeCort can write critically of the government, an unthinkable right if the Tigray People’a Liberation Front were still in power, is a light of hope that dialogue is possible. As he admits, “the EPRDF was a brutally authoritarian regime, and it forcefully intimidated, arrested, and attacked anyone who criticized it.” DeCort needs to reexamine his reading of Ethiopia’s complex political problems entangled with ethnocentric politics enthroned by the TPLF-dominated Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front. Authentic dialogue, peace, reconciliation, healing and justice are intertwined. Selective reading, outrage and preferential “justice” do not help at all.
I want to reiterate: What is tearing Ethiopia apart is not Christian nationalism. Rather, it is ethnocentrism that has enshrined exclusionary regional particularism at the expense of national unity, fueling political and religious violence.
All Ethiopians must choose to transcend the country’s recent legacy of bitterness and mistrust, fear of domination and paternalism, revenge and “ethnic otherness” fueled by misleading and false narratives. We have the opportunity to learn from history — both its dark and bright sides. The most important question is whether or not we choose to move from historical imprisonment to a vision of hope.
Unless walls of fear and suspicion are transcended with genuine conversation, reconciliation and healing, national unity will be difficult. This, in turn, will make federalism very superficial, diminishing the ground for mutual flourishing and creating a highly insecure society made up of ethnic groups that refuse to see each other except through the keyholes in ethnic walls. We can overcome!
May peace reign!
Girma Bekele is a consultant in Christian mission studies and a visiting professor of missional leadership in the postmodern world at Tyndale University College & Seminary, Toronto, as well as Covenant Theological Seminary, St. Louis.