The
reign of Emperor Haile Sellassie ended in massive social and political upheaval
unprecedented in Ethiopian history. And the brutally repressive,
hyper-interventionist, revolutionary dictatorship of the Derg that replaced the laid back imperial state in turn went down
in flames in less than two decades, beset throughout its rule by all manner of
violent conflicts, escalating secessionist struggles and civil wars, largely of
its own making. The demise of the Mengistu tyranny left the fate of the country
in the hands of another exclusively partisan revolutionary group, the Woyanes.
They wasted no time in unilaterally dividing the country into tribal enclaves,
in the process setting up their own prohibitively partisan regime and imposing
it on the nation.
So
a question arises: will a regular, orderly, democratic system of transfer of
power or circulation of ruling elites ever be established in Ethiopia? A
proximate, more pressing issue today is how would the dictatorial reign of the
Woyanes, not just the personal autocratic rule of Meles Zenawi, end and what
will replace it? For, end, it will, sooner or later, since their regime, which
is over two decades old now, represents not a lasting political system that is
broadly legitimate in the eyes of the Ethiopian people and that has significant
potential for democratic opening and growth, but a passing equilibrium of
forces based on partisan monopoly of state power that, in the long-run, is
unsustainable.
The
issue, then, is the manner in which the Woyane chapter in the contemporary
Ethiopian tradition of authoritarian politics and government would come to a
close. Would the ruling party under the leadership of Meles Zenawi be able to
break the long established pattern of autocratic rule in the country and help
bring about much needed political and economic reform, as Professor Messay
Kebede suggests in a recent provocative writing? Or, would the Meles regime
remain incapable of thoroughgoing structural self-correction, even as it
promotes development, thereby awaiting a similar fate that befell the ancient
regime and the dictatorship of the Derg?
These
are not issues merely of idle political speculation. They concern the practical
matter of how we as a nation can, and should, fight for the change we want.
They suggest consideration of possibilities and challenges of systemic
transformation of Ethiopian national life. They point to essential questions
that must be answered before today’s Ethiopian patriots and progressives
can join forces around a coherent national strategy of movement on the terrain
of ideas and action, a strategy that is now lacking.
More
specifically, close analysis of these matters will help answer the question of
whether, as suggested by Messay Kebede, a negotiated political compromise can
be worked out between the Meles government and opposition parties. Messay
elaborates this view as part of a discussion of the idea of “the
developmental state.” In this writing I raise some issues and problems
with Messay’s thesis. My intention is not to attack or praise his
contribution but to provide critical, yet constructive, feedback. I pay compliments
to his work by examining it closely and opening it to question and discussion.
Although I address his writing pointedly, my review has a broader interest in advancing
our conceptual grasp as well as practical understanding of the issues involved.
Compromise is
Conceivable
There
are good reasons to doubt that the governing party in Ethiopia today is willing
or able to co-operate with alternative and opposition parties in paving a path
to political and economic reform. It has squandered several opportunities to do
so in two decades of dictatorial rule, the most important one being, of course,
the historic 2005 election. As the dominant ruling group within the EPRDF, the
TPLF has consistently demonstrated that it is narrowly and ruthlessly partisan,
uncompromising in advancing its political and economic interests and in pursuing
its authoritarian vision of development.
The
regime it heads is known for its fierce crackdown on civil protest and for
unleashing the full force of state power and propaganda against any group that
peacefully opposes its laws and policies, including journalists, advocates of
civil liberties and human rights, intellectuals, cultural communities, and
leaders of legally recognized opposition parties. The Woyanes have arguably no
inclination or motivation to strike a bargain with opposition groups on real democratic
reform of the Ethiopian political system.
Yet,
a negotiated settlement of differences between the Meles regime, or a leading
reformist faction within it, and its political opponents is not entirely
unthinkable or beyond the realm of possibility. As Messay notes, the evolution
of democratic governments from authoritarian or dictatorial regimes is not
uncommon. Political and ideological conflicts within nations often end not so
much with one side completely eliminating the other, as through some sort of
mutual, though often imperfect, accommodation.
So
we cannot assume that, in Ethiopia today, there are absolutely no opportunities
or possibilities for compromise between the incumbent party and its
challengers. Neither the governing party nor opposition forces may cash in on
available opportunities, reflecting not so much the constraints of objective conditions
as the limitations of the political actors involved. The possibilities of a
negotiated settlement may be more or less realizable, depending on particular
events and circumstances, or they may not be so real. Still, they exist, though
often requiring protracted identification and cultivation rather than offering
themselves readily and immediately.
Moreover,
we should not suppose that the nature of the TPLF as a political entity –
its ethnocentric ideological and organizational character – exhaustively
determines what it does, that the party is utterly incapable of making
pragmatic choices, including the choice of reform. Its authoritarian structure
may predispose it to act in certain predictable or patterned ways. But it has,
I believe, some degree of flexibility in responding to events and circumstances
and in choosing from alternative courses of action. After all, it did manage to
jettison its founding separatist political project and Marxist-Leninist ideas
and rhetoric on its way to power, demonstrating that it can give itself
maneuvering room on the ideological front. So the TPLF may be seen as evolving,
at least within narrow limits, and engaged in an ongoing incremental adjustment
and readjustment of its deeply flawed revolutionary project.
Considered
in this light, Messay’s idea of the possibility of a rapprochement
between the Woyane ruling party and opposition coalitions is not only conceivable,
but also defensible, at least in principle. The problem is the manner in which
he develops his view into an entire thesis or set of arguments.
Messay’s Claims
Messay
sets out his contentions in part in the following terms. After losing the 2005
election, Meles Zenawi concluded that only through “authoritarian
politics” can he keep himself and his party in power. So he sought to further
restrict the political playing field by establishing a single-party state. But
the formation of such a state would have entailed not only “outlawing”
all other political organizations but also dissolving the EPRDF itself as a
coalition of parties that affords different ethnic groups “their own
autonomous representation.” It would have forced the ruling elite to dismantle
its own ethnic regime. Consequently, Zenawi opted for the strategy of
“the developmental state” as the best way to ensure his own and his
party’s long-term stay in power.
What
has “the developmental state” got to do with the power interests of
Zenawi and his party? Messay pitches his argument about the developmental state
on two levels: a discussion of its model or general characteristics followed by
a view of the applicability of the model to the Meles regime. On the general
plane, he notes that certain authoritarian states become pro-growth functional
developers of economy (on the East Asian model). They do this by committing
themselves to the free market while simultaneously playing a key supportive and
directive role; by fostering a professional bureaucracy that is relatively autonomous
from politics, ethnicism, and other extraneous interests, and that effectively
regulates the market in line with national development goals; and by adopting
educational policies that also further the interests of national economic
growth.
Developmental
states or elites do these things primarily for political reasons, namely, to “marginalize”
opposition groups and maintain themselves in power over the long term. The
rationale behind the formation of the developmental state everywhere is thus the
perpetuation of authoritarian power. This point is central to Messay’s
thesis. The reasoning is that, in achieving economic success, developmental
regimes become less susceptible to “protests and insurrections,”
and gain “popular approval,” thereby making opposition parties
(and, we might add, democratic politics) “irrelevant.” So
development takes place in some nations as a political scheme; it is undertaken
by authoritarian governing strata with the express purpose of maintaining their
hold on power.
Following
his analysis of the general model of “the developmental state,”
Messay looks at the Ethiopian case and finds the model inapplicable to the
Meles regime. He notes that Meles is aware that economic growth in Ethiopia is “the
key” to his own and his party’s “long-term rule.” His
government sees itself as a developmental state. But, contrary to its
self-perception, the Meles regime is no such state. Among thereasons Messay gives for this include:
government rather than private ownership of land, with all that this implies
for the growth of the agricultural sector; the fetters of tribal borders and
enclaves on the free flow of commerce in the country; the domination of key
sectors of the Ethiopian economy by TPLF crony capitalists and conglomerates
with privileged access to state resources and power, a condition that causes
market failure or distortion; and the politicization and corruption of the
state bureaucracy.
Lastly,
Messay seeks to correct Meles Zenawi’s flawed copy of the model of the
developmental state by calling for “a grand coalition” or
“power-sharing” between the Woyane regime and opposition groups. He
claims this is “the only way [in] which the present ruling elite can
begin its “transformation,” presumably into a more perfect
developmental ruling class on the East Asian model.
Opening
Messay’s Claims to Question
We
could put numerous questions to Professor Messay’s contentions and the
terms of his argument. I shall here limit myself to just a few, focusing on “the
developmental state,” generally as well as in its application to the
Meles regime, and on “political stalemate,” the other key term of
his argument. At issue here is not
only the clarity of thought, but also, and more basically, our very description
or characterization of Ethiopian political reality today and the strategic
implications of this for democratic struggle and change in the country.
To
begin with Messay’s view of the East Asian model of development, I find
questionable his central assertion that the emergence of pro-growth, reformist
authoritarian states in diverse counties in Asia, Latin America, and elsewhere
in the world has directly to do with ruling elites in these countries seeking
to preserve their power in the face of internal or external threats. If not
entirely misconceived, this claim certainly amounts to an oversimplification of
otherwise varied and complex processes of national modernization and
development that have taken place in countries like Japan and China.
In
actuality, the relationship between the power interests of authoritarian ruling
elites and national developmental outcomes is rarely as simple and
straightforward a causal relationship as Professor Messay makes it out to be.
Rather than being independent, static forces that produce “developmental
states” and economic transformation from the outside, the power interests
of existing or aspiring ruling strata are better understood as evolving
dynamically with underlying changes in economy and society.
Admittedly,
economic progress can be, and often is, a central concern of politics and
policy for pro-growth autocratic regimes. But development is broadly a
historical process, not simply the political project of this or that commanding
elite. And the developmental state itself is what it is because, beyond
maintaining its power, it engages itself in the performance of challenging
tasks, including coming to terms with global economic forces and trends,
modernizing an entire national tradition, and reconstructing cultural values
and identities. To development obsessed autocratic elites, including the
Woyanes, these tasks represent vital interests and goals in themselves; they
are not always pursued with immediate political purpose or instrumentality,
namely, as means of warding off threats to power.
A
related issue has to do with how Messay
construes the responses of development oriented authoritarian governments and
elites to threats to their power. Messay’s problem here may be described
as the error of the false alternative, an error that leads him to misunderstand
the political character of developmental states. In responding to threats to
their power, he argues, such states “adopt either a repressive policy or
opt for reforms to ensure their long-term interests.” To hold on to power
indefinitely, they have to choose between the alternatives of repression or
reform. But does this “either-or” proposition have actual validity
or practical significance? Not really.
Depending
on the circumstances in which they are conceived and carried out, political and
economic reforms undertaken by authoritarian governments may generate more or
less opposition, and, consequently, trigger more or less repressive
governmental responses. Such reforms often produce winners and losers, particularly
among elites, and the latter may put up resistance that the former may be
determined to put down. In any case, “reform” and
“repression” need not be conceived as mutually exclusive categories
or alternatives.
Indeed,
in practice, the more pro-growth the authoritarian state, the more likely it
will suppress not only challengers to its power and reforms but also ordinary
citizens and communities that merely take issue with some of its development
policies or actions. Consider the Chinese polity today, for instance. It is
arguably the ultimate example of a high-performance developmental state. But it
is also known for its repressive behavior toward critics, dissidents, and
protesting cultural minorities and mainstream civil society groups. The Chinese
experience of development thus calls into question not only Messay’s
contention that growth-promoting authoritarian states respond to threats to
their power through reform rather than repression, but also his claim that
economic success virtually immunizes such states against citizens’ and
social groups’ demands for freedom and democracy.
Messay’s
view of the applicability of the East Asian paradigm of development to the
Woyane state is also problematic. After noting that “the actual ideology,
political structure, and economic policy of the Meles regime” are all
inconsistent with the paradigm, he concludes that “Meles and his cronies
are not even close to being a developmental
elite.” However, he adds that this does not mean that they are incapable
of becoming so, that Meles, as a national leader, cannot transform himself into
a functional developer of the Ethiopian economy on the East Asian model. Why
does Messay believe this in spite of the preponderance of evidence to the
contrary that he presents by contrasting the model with the structure and
economic behavior of the Meles regime?
His
explanation, if one can call it that, boils down to simply noting “the
possibility inherent in the human person to finally make the right
choice” and undertake the needed “transformation.” An
abstract human possibility would ultimately enable Meles Zenawi to choose to
become a true developmental national leader! Is this really saying anything
particularly meaningful in the context at hand? The same universal human
possibility inheres in the person of Eritrean dictator Isaias Afwerki, too; why
shouldn’t he (or any other dictator) be expected “to finally make
the right choice,” then?
Now,
there is nothing inherently wrong with being so optimistic about Meles Zenawi’s
potential for change, but Messay’s grim, down-to-earth description of the
nature and workings of the Meles regime did not prepare me for such soaring
optimism. Quite the contrary. Rather than being
reasonably hopeful or idealistic, Messay’s view here strikes me as merely
wishful. It represents a capitulation of level-headed, questioning thought,
which involves grappling with reality.
On
a related note, Messay’s characterization of the actions of the Meles
regime following the historic 2005 election and his account of the reasons for
which the regime acted after it lost the election, evince a similar lapse in
sensible, critical thinking. Consider his assertion that, after the 2005
election loss, Zenawi concluded that “only the path of authoritarian
politics” can enable him to keep himself and his party in power. What
does this mean? Are we supposed to believe that Zenawi’s personal rule or
that of his party was democratic prior to the election? Has the Meles regime
ever been anything but authoritarian? Has the TPLF, a party conceived and built
on Leninist organizational doctrine and tactics, ever committed itself to power
sharing and true multiparty democracy? Haven’t two decades of its reign
been emblematic of partisan dictatorship?
And
then there is Messay’s claim that formally establishing a
“one-party state” as Zenawi supposedly contemplated doing after the
2005 election, would have forced the TPLF leadership to dismantle the EPRDF, in
which various ethnic groups supposedly have “their own autonomous
representation,” presumably through their own autonomous parties.
Apparently, taking such a step would have involved the ruling party in
undermining the very ground of identity politics it stands on.
This
argument is not very convincing in that it takes at face value the
EPRDF’s self-image as a “coalition” of autonomous ethnic
groups. Messay mixes up ethnic autonomy as such with the particular partisan
and authoritarian brand of identity politics the Woyanes practice. The EPRDF is
better seen as an embodiment of that brand of political ethnicism, essentially
as an extension and object of TPLF hegemonic agency, than a true coalition of
ethnic and political equals. Who really believes that the Meles regime’s prohibitively
partisan constructs of, say, Oromo and Amhara “nationalities,”
complete with bureaucratically ossified killils
and compartmentalized identities, represent these peoples’ actual
interactive, overlapping self-identification, their own sense of themselves as
distinct, yet interconnected and mutually accommodating Ethiopian communities? And who really thinks that the activities of
ethnic parties such as OPDO and ANDEM within the EPRDF signify truly free
political agency rather than predictable, formulaic partisan behavior largely scripted
and overseen by TPLF bosses, ideologues, and cadres?
While
Professor Messay acknowledges the hegemony of the TPLF within the EPRDF, he
glosses over this political reality in suggesting that the latter is a real
coalition of parties. In effect, if not in intent, he ends up reproducing the
political self-image of the Woyane state. If we put aside the ruling
party’s official self-perception and democratic conceit, we can see
clearly a political reality in which a centralized authoritarian party
hierarchy co-exists with identity politics, dominating supposedly
self-governing local communities.
The
truth is that the ideology and rhetoric of “national self-determination”
have allowed the Meles regime to use ethnicity itself as an instrument of
partisan domination while at the same time enabling the regime to appear to
take a principled stand for the freedom and equality of all distinct
communities in Ethiopia. The ruling party has in this way been able to lay
claim to national leadership in a simultaneous assertion of egalitarian values
and dictatorial power. In sum, Messay “forgets” that, in substance,
if not in external form, the Meles regime is, and has always been, a one-party
state.
Political Stalemate? What Political Stalemate?
The
Meles government is on top of Ethiopian national affairs, “looking
down” on weak, ineffectual opposition groups, facing not much threat to
its rule, at least not so far. What would be the motivation of its supreme
leader in seeking compromise with opposition parties? Why would he be willing
to negotiate himself and his party out of hegemonic power as Messay suggests he
could and should?
Such
a dramatic turn of events is not inconceivable, as I indicated earlier, and
Messay is perfectly justified in imagining its possibility. But, is it a
realistic possibility, considering what we know about the history,
organizational culture, and current political practice of the TPLF? Given our
awareness of the imperious, know-it-all attitude and leadership style of Meles
Zenawi, his strong preference for unyielding partisanship over political
moderation and national consensus, why should we expect him to want to forge a
compromise with opposition parties, and weak ones at that? Messay bravely takes
on this difficult question, but I find his answer, which revolves around the
notion of “political stalemate,” rather unconvincing and not very
well thought out.
Generalizing,
Messay first contends that political stalemate materializes when authoritarian
ruling strata pursuing reform and development face competition for power from
rising, rival modernizing elites. As he sees it, it doesn’t take much for
the stalemate to lead to compromise. The forces in opposition simply
“realize the existence of…an indefinite and inconclusive political
conflict…and take the decision to negotiate.” Both sides
demonstrate their “readiness” to compromise on reform of the
political-economic system, the incumbent party renouncing repression and the
counter-elite giving up its “call for the overthrow of the regime.”
Messay then extends this general idea to the Ethiopian case today, asserting
that the situation in the country “precisely exhibits a political
stalemate.” In so doing, he leads us to expect, consistent with his
general thesis, a rapprochement between the Meles government and opposition
coalitions.
However,
Professor Messay does not argue, as his thesis suggest he would, that stalemate
within the forces in opposition in Ethiopia is likely to result in a negotiated
compromise on long-term structural reform of the Ethiopian state and economy.
Instead, he simply issues a warning that, unless a compromise is worked out,
the perceived political impasse in the country “can only develop into a
dangerous state of affairs for everybody.” What does Messay want us to
understand here? That the Ethiopian case is an exception to his general “thesis,”
such as it is? In that case, why bother with formulating the thesis in the
first place?
His
conception of “political stalemate” appears to predict compromise between the Woyane authoritarian elite and its
political opponents, yet, fearful that the predicted or, more accurately,
wished for rapprochement might not materialize, Messay warns of the dire
consequences of continued stalemate in the country. He strongly reminds the
forces in conflict that they must do something to overcome the perceived political
impasse. His ostensibly objective “theoretical construction”
thereby reduces itself to a moral imperative that the two sides should work out a compromise.
Our
basic understanding of the meaning of the term, “political
stalemate,” is a draw or a standoff in a struggle between opposing
forces, a situation of relative parity, and a deadlock. The basic idea is that
there are two sides (generally) to a conflict and neither side is in a position
to dominate or get an advantage. Now look at the Ethiopian political situation.
Do you see a stalemate? Messay does, so we may ask, is the political stalemate
he sees real or imagined? Is it something that is merely thought of or
something that actually exists? Isn’t it common knowledge that the Meles
regime has consigned opposition parties and coalitions to the margins of
Ethiopian national affairs through pre-emptive and reactive repression and by
means of electoral ritual and exclusion? Can we really say that opposition
coalitions have the capability at present to contend for power, to force a political
stalemate on the Meles regime and thereby “persuade” it to come to
the negotiating table? Not at all.
Granted,
the Meles autocracy itself has an underlying weakness in that it is built on a
narrow partisan foundation. And it operates with a large legitimacy deficit,
lacking as it does the normative approval of the Ethiopian people. Still, it
wields preponderant power and influence relative to its political opponents. As
a promoter of economic development, it has managed to gain a measure of
acceptance in certain popular and elite circles in the country and among some
Ethiopians in the Diaspora as a preferable alternative to any or all of the
fledgling parties in the opposition. In short, seen objectively as well as from
the perspective the Meles regime itself, the political situation in Ethiopia
today can hardly be characterized as one of stalemate. Consequently, it cannot realistically
be expected to produce or necessitate a compromise between the governing party
and opposition groups. To think otherwise, as Messay does, seems to me not only
counterintuitive but also inconsistent with observable reality.
But
suppose for a moment there is a political standoff in Ethiopia that is
factually evident, not merely theorized or imagined. Should we then expect that
such a state of affairs would in and of itself move the governing party and the
opposition toward a negotiated settlement of their differences? Messay’s
answer, at least “in theory,” is, yes. Apparently, the sheer
“realization” of deadlock in their conflict would cause the
opposing forces to opt for a more reasonable course of action, namely,
negotiation toward rapprochement. Conscious of the political impasse, both
sides would seek compromise, moving swiftly from cognition to action.
I
wish our country’s political problems were as easily soluble or tractable
as Messay’s thesis suggests. Messay here takes quite an inferential leap;
even if there is real political stalemate and the Meles regime is aware of its
existence, it does not necessarily or simply follow that the regime would
choose to negotiate with dissident groups. Indeed, if the history of the party
in power and the pattern of its contemporary behavior are any guide, it would
more likely seek to overcome or neutralize its political challengers instead.
Again, the issue here is not the abstract possibility or hope of rapprochement
between the forces in opposition, but our realistic expectation of the same. It
is one of, as it were, counterbalancing the idealistic wish and belief of the
heart with the hard-headed skepticism of the mind.
In
being overly hopeful about compromise, Messay attributes to the Meles regime an
enlightened self-interest that is simply foreign to it. He ascribes to the
regime a broad-based political rationality that contravenes its sectarian
ideology of “revolutionary democracy.” For the Woyanes,
“revolutionary democracy” is not merely professed thought and
belief. It is a whole paradigm of domination, at once ideational and
organizational, through which ethnicity, nationalism, government, and development
are all converted into exclusive partisan formula and value. It is an ideology
that underpins the insular political identity, will, and power of the Woyanes
as well as their particular policies and actions. So they are unlikely to open
it to meaningful negotiation and compromise, although liberalization and reform
of their system of domination is not entirely out of the question.
So
a democratic opening of the TPLF-EPRDF state remains a weak possibility, at
best. It is improbable that the Meles regime would actually strike any kind of political
bargain with opposition groups anytime soon, let alone share power with them in
“a grand coalition,” as Messay prescribes. And this is not
surprising. Authoritarian ruling elites, especially “revolutionary”
ones that are relentless in pursuing their partisan interests and goals, rarely
vacate or share power willingly. But why should we not expect the Woyanes in
particular to preside over a negotiated dissolution of their own dictatorship?
An
adequate answer to this question should help advance our understanding of how
the political ideas and beliefs of the ruling party work and don’t work.
It should also enhance our grasp of the challenges of political thought and
action in the Ethiopian struggle for freedom and democracy. I intend to examine
these issues in a following writing.
