Thursday 5 December 2024
The year 2018 marked several firsts for Ethiopia. Abiy Ahmed became the country’s first Oromo prime minister and the continent’s youngest leader. Later that year, Sahle-Work Zewde was appointed as Ethiopia’s first female president by the country’s parliament, making her the only female African head of state at the time.
Reflecting the significance of the event, Fitsum Arega, a senior Ethiopian diplomat tweeted: “In a patriarchal society such as ours, the appointment of a female head of state not only sets the standard for the future but also normalises women as decision-makers in public life.”
The last woman in Ethiopia’s longer history to ascend high office was Empress Zewditu in the early 20th century.
Sahle-Work was replaced in early October by Taye Asteke Selasie, another seasoned diplomat who, like her, is from the Amhara region.
Unlike her predecessor, Empress Zewditu, who held absolute power though never exercised it, the president’s role in Ethiopia is largely ceremonial and lacks real influence in concrete political terms. The ceremonial roles include some free-range pasturing, such as opening the annual joint session of the House of Peoples’ Representatives (lower house) and the House of the Federation (upper house), announcing laws and international agreements passed by the House of Peoples’ Representatives in the Negarit Gazeta, and receiving the credentials of foreign ambassadors.
However, some ceremonial functions are more restricted by law, such as awarding medals, prizes, and gifts, and granting pardons; others depend on the prime minister’s recommendations, such as appointing ambassadors and other envoys to represent the country overseas and conferring high military titles.
Nonetheless, expectations were high, as her appointment came just months after Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed established a gender-balanced cabinet. Both Ethiopia and the world believed the country was on the brink of a new era. After all, Ethiopians have long remarked—at least rhetorically—that the nation’s politics needed more women to keep bloodthirsty men in check and to prevent or better manage the crises that the country and its people might face.
Her voice was expected to play a significant role in raising Ethiopia’s global profile at a time when the country’s star seemed to be rising rapidly.
Sahle-Work was also a career diplomat, having held significant postings for Ethiopia in Africa, the Arab world, and Europe. Before assuming the presidency, succeeding Mulatu Teshome, she led the UN’s mission to the African Union and its office in Nairobi.
Sahle-Work is Ethiopia’s first president not to come from the largest ethnic group, the Oromo, since the adoption of the current constitution. Unlike her predecessors, she is from the Amhara ethnic group, the country’s second largest, according to the state statistics agency. Her appointment took place at the height of the Oromara (Oromo-Amhara) elite alliance, which led to the ousting of the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF)-led Ethiopian People's Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF) from power. This alliance was formed during the Oromo protests, when Amhara youth chose to join forces with the Qeerroo/Qaarree movement—“Bachelors/Bachelorettes” in Afaan Oromo—which was resisting the Addis Ababa Master Plan and advocating for political, economic, and social justice.
During her presidency, new states were formed—namely Central Ethiopia, Sidama, South Ethiopia, and South West Ethiopia—as well as a new political party, the Prosperity Party, with which she was associated, despite the constitutional prohibition against presidential involvement in political associations. She witnessed the outbreak of civil conflicts in Amhara, her home region, as well as in Oromia and Tigray. Her period in office also saw fluctuations in Ethiopia’s relations with its neighbours and a deterioration in its already dire relationship with Egypt, another continental powerhouse.
Constitutionally, the president is intended to be an apolitical figure and a symbol of unity for the nations, nationalities, and peoples of Ethiopia. This image of a unifying and apolitical figure was tested on several occasions. The first test came in Oromia, where conflict erupted between the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) and the federal and Oromia governments two months after her appointment. Sahle-Work remained silent on the conflict and left office having made few, if any, statements about the situation there.
Her greatest test, however, came in November 2020, when violence erupted in Tigray. She supported the federal government’s intervention in the region and adopted the rhetoric used by the government and its supporters, who avoided calling the conflict a war, instead referring to it as a “law enforcement operation”.
The government she was part of prosecuted those that did refer to the conflict as war. Despite undeniable atrocities in Tigray, which researchers have recently classified as genocide, she remained steadfast in her support for the federal government. When reports of widespread sexual violence in Tigray emerged, she chose to remain silent, while others sought to deny, justify, or downplay these atrocities. In contrast, for example, Filsan Abdi, a minister from the Somali region, quit Abiy’s cabinet in 2021.
The government she was part of prosecuted those that did refer to the conflict as war. Despite undeniable atrocities in Tigray, which researchers have recently classified as genocide, she remained steadfast in her support for the federal government.
Perhaps her most notable and commendable statement during the conflict was her sigh of relief, like the rest of us, when the TPLF and the federal government entered talks in South Africa and reached an agreement.
Some may attribute her indifference and silence on the conflicts in Oromia and Tigray to the apolitical nature of her role, but the majority of Ethiopians disagree. Many Ethiopians view her silence in the face of crises as a reflection of her Ethiopianist leanings, which, like those of her superior, Abiy Ahmed, see Ethiopia’s existing constitution as an obstacle to national unity, progress, and prosperity. This is not mere speculation; a glance through her official social media accounts reveals attempts to glorify the legacies of Ethiopia’s past monarchs, despite their often brutal and despotic histories. This glorification is embodied in nostalgia about Haile Selassie, the despotic monarch who equated himself, in the 1930 constitution, to God and imposed a brutal regime that saw the death of many Ethiopians.
In 2022, she also posed with an Ethiopian imperial flag, which offends the majority of Ethiopians who view it as a symbol of an era in which their ethnic identities were stigmatised and expressions of difference were repressed. Indeed, the language in her speeches may be positive, but her passivity towards the immense challenges Ethiopians from all backgrounds faced during her tenure portrays her as hypocritical, ineffectual, and partisan. Ordinary Ethiopians see her as a remote and aloof figure—an elite who glorifies a tragic past, places hope in the improbable, and states only the obvious.
Her recent dispute with Abiy Ahmed exemplifies her partisan stance. Ethiopia is a country where rumours strongly influence politics, and it is rumoured that the president was dissatisfied with the federal government’s decision to launch a military operation against the Amhara region. The operation targets Fano, an outlaw militia accused of committing the majority of atrocities in western and southern Tigray. Alongside Ethiopian and Eritrean soldiers, Fano is also implicated in the Tigray genocide.
However, she remained silent and withdrew from the public eye, only to resurface a year later, just two days before her replacement, when she posted a cryptic message on Twitter that roughly translates to: “Tilahun Gesese, Teddy Afro, Ali Birra, and Mahmud Ahmed are wonderful singers. ‘When a human being is upset and when time pushes him, as a man who has lost his way, silence is the only hope,’ says Mahmud when he sings ‘Silence is my answer.’ I tried it (silence) for a year.”
Aside from the fact that Teddy Afro—a third-tier artist with no fanbase outside of Addis Ababa—was mentioned in the same breath as giants like Ali Birra, Mahmud Ahmed, and Tilahun Gessee, who have touched the soul of every Ethiopian, her frustration appears to be directed at the deteriorating humanitarian situation in Amhara, her native region, as well as the recent use of drone strikes.
While she remained largely silent and withdrawn regarding Oromia, and was actively involved in Tigray, the president—who ostensibly espouses progressive Ethiopianism—felt compelled to rush to the defence of Amhara civilians. Defending civilian lives is always commendable, but one must wonder: where were the president’s words of wisdom when civilians suffered in Oromia, or when women were raped and maimed in Tigray? Where were her words when Ethiopia’s diplomatic reputation was tarnished by the regime she served? Where were her words when 15.8 million of her fellow citizens required food aid? And where was her concern when ordinary Ethiopians were being crushed under the economic reforms of this regime?
There will be articles, essays, generational arguments, and public discussions regarding her legacy, but it will ultimately come down to whether she upheld her oath when she assumed office six years earlier. The oath states: “I, Sahle-Work Zewde, on this date, commence my responsibility as President of the Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia, and pledge to carry out faithfully the high responsibility entrusted to me.”