Thursday, July 31, 2025

The moment demands humility not bravado

As Ethiopia stands at yet another dangerous crossroads, the specter of renewed war between the federal government and the Tigray region can no longer be dismissed as a distant worry. It is now an emerging possibility, fueled by deep internal divisions, the continued involvement of Eritrean forces, and the lingering mistrust from a civil war that only formally ended in late 2022. The very fabric of Ethiopia’s political and social order is being tested as never before, and the consequences of plunging back into war would be catastrophic and potentially irreversible.

The central government has worked to reassert authority across a country riven by ethnic and regional grievances. Yet, military resistance in Oromia, Amhara, and elsewhere continues to challenge Addis Ababa’s core strategy. In Tigray, the region at the epicenter of the last war, the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) is now riven by infighting, with factions openly rejecting the 2022 Pretoria Peace Agreement. This internal fragmentation, combined with ongoing engagement by Eritrean forces, is reigniting the fires of conflict.

A renewed war would almost certainly deepen Ethiopia’s political fragmentation. Instead of restoring order, military escalation risks fueling more secessionist tendencies, encouraging powerful regions to seek autonomy, or worse, permanent separation. The Yugoslavian experience stands as a bleak warning: when ethnic nationalism, mistrust, and political paralysis intersect, disintegration can follow, sending societies into spirals from which they never recover.

The economic consequences of Ethiopia’s previous war with Tigray are well-documented and should caution any actor contemplating further conflict. The last war saw the destruction of infrastructure, the decimation of farmlands, and the loss of private and public assets, with cumulative damages estimated in the tens of billions of dollars. The result was a stalled economy: GDP growth collapsed, inflation skyrocketed above 30%, and foreign investment evaporated—leaving Ethiopia’s developmental aspirations in tatters.

A new conflict would further disrupt agriculture, especially in northern Ethiopia, risking famine in one of the world’s most food-insecure countries. It would scare off desperately needed international investors already wary of Ethiopia’s political volatility and trigger another inflationary spiral, shrinking the incomes of ordinary Ethiopians and deepening unemployment. Reconstruction efforts would be set back by years, if not decades. Simply put, war is not a reset button; it is a trapdoor that, once fallen through, may never open up again.

The last war brought Ethiopia a grim record: hundreds of thousands deaths, many of them civilians cut down in ethnic massacres or starved in besieged regions. The shadow of rape used as a weapon of war hangs over Tigray, where HIV rates have doubled and basic health indicators—maternal and infant mortality, school attendance, nutrition—have plunged to pre-modern lows. The trauma, especially for women and children, is incalculable and will endure across generations.

Today, more than 5 million people in Tigray still require emergency food assistance, their plight compounded by barely functional health infrastructure and restrictions on humanitarian access. The recurrence of conflict would almost certainly bring full-scale famine conditions for millions and surges of mass displacement, both across borders and inside Ethiopia. It would also revive patterns of wartime sexual violence and human rights abuses that remain unaddressed from the last conflict. Aid agencies, already stretched to the brink by global crises, may not have the capacity to intervene if Ethiopia again descends into chaos.

Ethiopia’s destabilization is not a local crisis—it is a regional threat. The Horn of Africa is already a cauldron, with civil wars in Sudan, insurgencies in Somalia and South Sudan, and tense standoffs over issues like the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam. Should Ethiopia collapse into renewed conflict, the blowback will radiate across the Nile basin and the Red Sea corridor, threatening the security and prosperity of more than a hundred million people across multiple countries.

In the face of such peril, Ethiopia does not have the luxury of another war. Its institutions, economy, and citizens are still healing from the last conflict. The federal government must act with urgency and vision to reinvigorate dialogue with all factions in Tigray, including those resisting the Pretoria Peace Agreement. Humanitarian corridors must be ensured to allow unfettered aid access and prevent famine while protecting vulnerable civilians. The Pretoria Agreement should be strengthened through international accountability and transparent monitoring. Regional partners like the African Union and the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) must intensify mediation efforts before violence spirals out of control.

The moment demands not bravado or brinksmanship, but humility and a shared commitment to national reconciliation and inclusive governance. It is tempting, in moments of heightened tension, to believe that war can restore order or resolve grievances. Ethiopia’s recent past—and the scars plainly visible across Tigray, Amhara, Oromia, and beyond—offers irrefutable evidence to the contrary. The last war achieved nothing but death, division, and a near-fatal blow to national unity.

The question, therefore, is not whether Ethiopia can survive another war, but whether it can survive at all without peace. War will not deliver security or prosperity. It will not allow Ethiopia to reclaim its place as a beacon of progress in Africa. Only peace, anchored in dialogue, justice, and true reconciliation, can prevent Ethiopia from falling into a hole from which recovery may be impossible.

Those invested in Ethiopia’s future—its leaders, its regions, and its friends abroad—must do everything in their power to avoid the abyss of war. History has already delivered its verdict. The path to lasting recovery and greatness demands peace, courage, and compromise—not another march to the abyss.

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