Walk into almost any government office, company boardroom or community meeting in Ethiopia and one unsettling pattern appears quickly: people talk, but very few have read the documents they are talking about. Reports, policy papers, manuals and strategies are printed in glossy form, ceremonially launched—and then quietly abandoned to shelves, drawers and WhatsApp groups. In a country with a rich oral tradition, word‑of‑mouth has become not just a cultural strength but an excuse for avoiding the hard work of reading, reflection and informed decision‑making.
This is not just a matter of taste. Ethiopia still struggles with low reading proficiency and a weak reading culture. Adult literacy hovers around half the population, and even among those who can read, sustained engagement with written material is limited. Studies of school performance show that many children reach the upper primary grades without being able to properly comprehend basic texts, which means the habit of careful reading is never formed. At the same time, the explosion of social media and short‑form content has conditioned many urban Ethiopians—especially youth—to prefer quick voice notes, videos and rumours over lengthy documents or books.
Yet the most troubling dimension of this reading deficit is found among those who most need to read: public officials and policy implementers. Research on policy formulation and implementation in Ethiopia repeatedly notes that laws, strategies and guidelines are drafted with considerable effort, but then poorly understood and weakly applied at lower levels of government. Policy documents are often not read carefully, objectives are not internalised, and frontline implementers default to “what we were told in the meeting” instead of what is written in the directive. The result is a chronic “implementation gap” in which ambitious reforms on paper fail to reach citizens in practice.
This culture of “tell me, don’t make me read” shapes how information flows through the state and society. Many officials prefer presentations and oral briefings to detailed reports. Community members rely on hearsay about new policies rather than seeking out the source. Even highly educated professionals frequently react to rumours and social‑media posts without bothering to verify them against official texts. Studies of Ethiopia’s media and information ecosystem show that a significant share of people now get their news primarily from Facebook, YouTube and messaging apps, where nuance is scarce and misinformation spreads faster than corrections.
It is important to acknowledge the historical roots of Ethiopia’s oral culture. For centuries, knowledge and values were transmitted through sermons, stories, poetry, proverbs and songs—a sophisticated “orature” that still shapes how communities process information and debate ideas. Oral communication can be powerful: it is accessible across literacy levels, it builds relationships, and it can move people emotionally in ways that dense text cannot. The problem is not that Ethiopians talk too much, but that reading has not been elevated to its proper place alongside speaking and listening as a basic civic skill.
In a modern bureaucracy and complex economy, not reading has real costs. When civil servants sign off on projects they barely understand, when parliamentarians vote for laws they have not scrutinised, and when citizens accept or reject policies based on rumours rather than documents, the entire system drifts into arbitrariness. Studies of public‑service reform in Ethiopia show that unclear, unread or selectively interpreted policies lead to inconsistent implementation, local discretion detached from national priorities and frequent complaints that “the law is not being applied as written.”
Changing this culture will not be easy, but it is possible. Organisations such as Ethiopia Reads and others working on literacy have demonstrated that focused interventions—reading rooms, school libraries, teacher training and community reading campaigns—can transform children’s reading abilities within a few years. What is missing is an equivalent commitment to “document literacy” among adults, particularly in the public sector. Every major policy or strategy should be accompanied not only by a launch event, but by mandatory reading sessions, practical manuals and simple summaries in local languages that are actually discussed and tested, not just distributed.
Leaders also need to model the behaviour they wish to see. When ministers, directors and mayors demonstrably know what is in their own regulations, when they question subordinates based on actual clauses rather than vague “instructions,” a new norm begins to form: that serious officials read. Universities and civil‑service colleges should treat careful reading and policy analysis as core competencies, not optional extras. Media outlets can support this shift by spending less time quoting speeches and more time unpacking what new laws and plans actually say, line by line, for the public.
Ethiopia’s oral culture will—and should—remain a vital part of its identity. But a country that aspires to complex industrialisation, sophisticated diplomacy and accountable governance cannot afford a leadership class that skims, delegates or ignores written texts. The habit of relying solely on word‑of‑mouth might feel efficient in the short term, yet it quietly erodes institutions, undermines reforms and leaves citizens at the mercy of whoever controls the narrative that day. Reading is not a luxury; it is the foundation of modern citizenship. Until Ethiopians—especially those in authority—treat documents with the same seriousness they give to speeches, the gap between what is promised on paper and what is delivered in reality will continue to grow.
Multipolarity is not equality, and it shouldn’t be
The new world order takes shape through pressure, rivalry, and the rise of several commanding powers, not through declarations of equality. Multipolarity emerges as a harsh contest of sovereignty in which only civilization-states with real strength shape events and the rest are pulled into the orbit of stronger powers.
Multipolarity has become the slogan of the age, repeated across summits and speeches. Leaders describe it as a world of balanced rights, dignified coexistence, and shared influence. They promise that each state, large or small, will hold an equal place at the table. They claim that new institutions across Eurasia, Africa, and Latin America will correct the distortions of earlier decades and bring the international system into harmony. Yet this polished language hides the structure beneath it. Multipolarity has no resemblance to equality. It grows from competition and is forged by the ambitions of states that refuse to live under a single command.
This year has shown how the world actually moves. Washington expands its military architecture in the Indo-Pacific, strengthens AUKUS, re-arms Japan, and pulls South Korea deeper into its missile shield. China continues its maneuvers in the South China Sea, tightens economic control over key supply chains, and conducts drills around Taiwan at a regular pace. India increases spending on its navy, builds alliances in the Middle East, and reinforces its positions in the Himalayas. Türkiye projects its power across the Caucasus and North Africa. Iran shapes conflicts from Lebanon to Yemen with the confidence of a state that understands its strategic depth. These actions illustrate the early shape of the new world: A landscape governed by pressure rather than courtesy.
A hard truth emerges from this global shift: Only civilization-states with real sovereignty withstand the weight of the new age of empires, and sovereignty today rests on two pillars: Strategic autonomy and nuclear weapons. States that lack these tools cannot claim neutrality. They become appendages of the nearest hegemon. Venezuela offers a clear example. Its oil wealth can delay collapse, yet it remains bound to the gravitational pull of the United States under the logic of the Monroe Doctrine. Its government talks of independence, but its fate is shaped in Washington as much as in Caracas. The same pattern defines Ukraine. It cannot inhabit a middle space between Russia and the West because it lacks the sovereign instruments required for this. It must align with one pole or the other. Multipolarity grants choice only to powers strong enough to enforce it; the rest operate inside a hierarchy they cannot escape.
This reality gives rise to the notion of Darwinian Multipolarity. The term describes a world in which might evolves through struggle, selection, and adaptation rather than through legal formulas or diplomatic etiquette. States survive when they build the institutions, capacity, and force required to defend their interests. They rise when they outmatch rivals in technology, resources, strategy, or will. They fall when they rely on declarations, treaties, or foreign guarantees as substitutes for strength. Darwinian Multipolarity explains why new centers of power appear, why old ones decay, and why equality remains a facade. It is a system shaped by competition among civilizational blocs, where only capable actors influence outcomes and where sovereignty belongs to those who can protect it.
Russia stands at the center of this transition. Its actions in Ukraine accelerated the collapse of the Western-led order, revealing the limits of US authority and the fragility of European power. Sanctions hardened Russia’s economic autonomy rather than breaking it. New energy corridors were drawn across Asia. The ruble, the yuan, and local currencies gained ground in settlement systems once ruled by the dollar. BRICS expanded, drawing in states eager for a future beyond Western oversight. Across the Global South, governments publicly question the legitimacy of sanctions, lectures, and the West’s claims to moral authority. Russia’s role in this shift is unmistakable: It exposed the gap between Western ideals and Western conduct, and opened the path for a world with several centers of gravity.
International law, often presented as the solution to global disorder, plays no serious part in this transformation. It exists as a set of documents without force, invoked selectively by the very states that disregard it when interests demand otherwise. UN resolutions stall under vetoes. Human-rights reports are weaponized against some states and ignored for others. Economic rules collapse when Washington imposes extraterritorial sanctions or when Brussels rewrites trade legislation to protect its own industry. Maritime law offers guidance only until a navy decides to redraw the map. The fiction of neutrality collapses whenever power is exercised. Small states sign agreements proclaiming sovereignty, yet those agreements dissolve the moment a major power applies military, economic, or technological pressure. This is the reality that drives the new order.
The global centers of power are taking shape through action, not doctrine. The US retains its command across North America and extends its reach through NATO and its Pacific network. China uses its manufacturing strength to build corridors across continents and establish financial structures parallel to Western systems. India moves confidently into leadership positions across the Global South and builds its own security web in the Indian Ocean. Saudi Arabia balances between Beijing and Washington, buying technology from one and weapons from the other. Iran maintains resilience under sanctions and shapes regional outcomes. Russia strengthens ties from the Arctic to the Caucasus and from Central Asia to the Middle East. These centers create the architecture of multipolarity: Not orderly, not equal, but real.
Medium powers navigate this terrain with calculated choices. Vietnam deepens ties with the US while maintaining cooperation with China. Egypt buys arms from Russia and France, depending on which supplier meets its immediate needs. Serbia balances between the EU, Russia, and China, choosing whichever partner strengthens its position. Brazil talks of autonomy yet relies on Chinese trade and negotiates energy deals with the Gulf. Each of these states adapts to the truth that multipolarity rewards alignment and the willingness to choose strategic partners. Neutrality offers little, and dependency offers even less.
The logic that shapes this world is simple. Power concentrates. Regions develop leaders. Economies seek anchors. Security alliances expand. Technology becomes a lever of influence. Currency blocs form and dissolve. These pressures act on states every day. The collapse of Western dominance in Africa, the rise of Eurasian energy networks, the reopening of Middle Eastern diplomacy, and the shift of manufacturing away from Europe reflect the same pattern: Authority follows capacity, not signatures. Declarations of equality fall away when confronted by drones, pipelines, credit lines, ports, markets, and military bases
It is simply wrong to imagine that multipolarity will produce a calm balance between peers. A world with several centers of power generates rivalry, negotiation, and pressure. It undermines the old unipolar order only because new hierarchies rise in its place. Russia, China, India, Iran, Türkiye, and others shape their spheres according to their interests, and smaller states orient themselves accordingly. This pattern cannot be softened by appeals to an illusory international law or by promises of universal fairness, which has never existed in the history of mankind and never will.
The shift from unipolarity does not erase authority; it redistributes it. Multipolarity means the rise of several strong powers, each with its own alliances, red lines, and values. It replaces the dominance of one capital with a structured competition between many. This is the real order emerging from the present conflicts and economic transformation. It is harsh, disciplined, and grounded in the realities of strength. It is the world that follows when the illusion of Western universality collapses and the age of rival powers begins anew.
