Messay Kebede
Abrahamic religions, like Judaism, Islam, and especially Christianity, have encouraged, in one form or another, the separation of religion from politics. Recall Jesus’s dictum: “give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God.” On the other hand, they have also connected the two by warning us that our fate in the otherworld hinges on our good or evil behavior in this earthly world. Going further, they have fanned the idea that religion should guide politics to make sure that social conditions remain conducive to the consolidation of religion and the practice of God’s teachings. In some cases, religious leaders have openly called upon the people to revolt against leaders in power for not being compliant with religious prescriptions. Not only do these cases uphold the political responsibility of religion, but they also urge religion to challenge politics in the name of God each time it deviates from the right path.
With the advent of modernity in Europe in the 16th century, religion started to be viewed as a set of beliefs counter to enlightenment and progress, a view that later culminated in the Marxist characterization of religion as “the opium of the people.” The challenge of modernity compelled religion to go through reformist phases that even provoked a schism with the appearance and spread of Protestantism. The radical side of the challenge evolved, for its part, into militant atheism: considered as one of the pillars of class exploitation and a bulwark of conservatism, religion became the target of direct attacks that even advocated its elimination.
Exposure to Modernity and the Fate of Religion in Ethiopia
Under the influence of modern ideas, the Ethiopian student movement in the 60s and early 70s, following the tail of Europe, accused religion of propagating ignorance and championing allegiance to the imperial state. With some exceptions in its ranks, the movement quickly bypassed the reformist phase and appropriated European radicalism. The outcome was the espousal of militant atheism of the Marxist-Leninist type that put the movement at war with religion. Following the Derg’s seizure of power, atheism became a state ideology, which, however, refrained from taking aggressive measures against religion. With the TPLF’s rise to power, verbal attacks on religion ceased in favor of marginalization based on the doctrine of the separation of church and state. Additionally, to ensure that the Orthodox church remains under the control of the TPLF, a Tigrayan clergyman took the position of Abuna, the chief bishop of the Ethiopian church.
The start of the Oromo hegemony witnessed, at first, a policy of support t vis-a-vis religion, but it soon developed an aggressive attitude towards Orthodox Christianity that went from verbal attacks to periodic persecutions of followers and destructions of churches and their property, especially in the Oromo region. Why do Oromo elites specifically single out Orthodox religion for attacks when their modernizing project could be content with the implementation of the modern principle of the separation of religion and the state? In the case of the TPLF, direct attacks on Orthodox Christianity would have been a dangerous course of action, given that most Tigrayans are committed adherents of the same religion much like the Amhara. This meant essentially that the party could not use religion to create a wedge between Tigray and Amhara, since both predominantly share the same religion. Because of this, leaders of the party chose the path of tight control of the church by making sure that its leadership is in the hands of Tigrayan clerical authorities.
Things were different for Oromo ethnonationalists. Not that Orthodox Oromo are non-existent or negligible: though they do not constitute a majority, they represent a sizeable minority. Instead, the reason originates from the tight association of Orthodox Christianity with the Amhara conquest of Oromia and the use of the religion for a policy of assimilation into the Amhara culture. Such is not the case with Tigrayans: not only is Tigray the birthplace of Christianity in Ethiopia, but it is also thanks to the conversion to Orthodox Christianity of the Aksumite King Ezana that Ethiopia adopted the Orthodox version of Christianity. By contrast, the conversion of Oromo to the Orthodox faith is a recent phenomenon tied to Menilik’s expansion.
The Misfortunes of Orthodox Religion in Oromia
Unlike the situation under the TPLF’s rule, the hegemonic ascension of Oromo nationalists came with the determination to construct an identity that is different from and opposed to the Amhara identity. In light of this determination, tolerance towards Orthodox Christianity could have an eroding effect on the project of building an autonomous Oromo identity. It is imperative that we clarify this point to grasp the specific nature of the Oromo attacks on the Tewahdo religion.
The animosity of Oromo elites towards the Orthodox religion sharply contrasts with other cases where the “conquered” have accepted and even internalized the religion of the conqueror. Such is the case of African countries: the religions of the colonizers have become an important part of the African identity in many African countries. Better still, African countries have used these religions in their fight for independence. A similar instance is found in America: black leaders like M. L. King have used Jesus and Christian belief in human dignity and equality to demand equal treatment. In all these cases, in addition to the galvanizing inspiration accruing from the belief in God’s universal love and its corollary, namely, the equality of all human beings, the intention was to expose the inconsistency of the oppressors between their religious belief and their actual practice.
The situation in Oromia shows nothing of this kind. In fact, among the elites, many converted to Islam or Protestantism as an expression of protest, even though both are imported beliefs. A similar phenomenon is observed in the script used for writing Afaan Oromo: the adoption of the Latin alphabet instead of the Geez alphabet is largely considered as a manifestation of protest. What could be the reason behind the outright rejection of the legacies of the alleged “oppressor”?
One of the reasons could be the Oromo evaluation of the Amhara legacy. Thanks to the student movement and its repercussions, the Amhara legacy has been trampled down, almost beyond repair. In particular, the characterization of Orthodox Christianity as a backward, outdated, stubbornly conservative, and anti-progress set of beliefs has had its corrosive effects. Hence the belief that, far from being transformative, its integration into the Oromo culture would be not only stagnating but also detrimental to the renovation of the Oromo culture. What is more, since the level of civilization of the “conquerors” and “oppressors” of the Oromo “nation” is no better than that of the “conquered,” adopting their legacy can only be humiliating and degrading. The rehabilitation of Oromo culture requires nothing less than the cleansing of the Amhara legacy, especially of Orthodox religion, and its replacement with a set of beliefs rooted in the Gada system and its attendant values. One of the thinkers of the Oromummaa identity, Asafa Jalata, says it in no uncertain terms:
Oromummaa is a complex and dynamic national and global project. As a national project and the master ideology of the Oromo national movement, Oromummaa enables Oromos to retrieve their cultural memories, assess the consequences of Ethiopian colonialism, give voice to their collective grievances, mobilize diverse cultural resources, interlink Oromo personal, interpersonal and collective (national) relationships, and assists in the development of Oromo-centric political strategies and tactics that can mobilize the nation for collective action empowering the people for liberation.”
(https://trace.tennessee.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1009&context=utk_socopubs)
What is surprising in all of the attacks on Orthodox Christianity is the glaring transgression of the articles of the Constitution of the Federal Democratic Republic. Oromo elites are often quick to accuse their opponents not only of disrespecting the constitution but also of seeking its termination. Yet, they are those who go against it by ignoring some of its important provisions. A case in point is Addis Ababa: though the constitution states that “Addis Ababa shall be the capital city of the Federal State” (article 49, no.1), Oromo elites lay claim to the city and advocate its inclusion into the Oromo region state.
An even more flagrant case is their disregard of the provisions on religion. Besides the unambiguous assertion that “state and religion are separate,” that “everyone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion” (article 11, no., 1), the constitution adds the specification that “this right shall include the freedom to hold or to adopt a religion or belief of his choice, and the freedom, either individually or in community with others, and in public or private, to manifest his {one’s} religion or belief in worship, observance, practice and teaching,” (article 27, no., 1). Despite these categorical statements, Oromo elites do not hesitate to ignore them while admonishing others for wanting to change the constitution. Is it not clear that their own behavior pushes others to follow suit?
Be that as it may, the point here is that the main purpose of a constitution, often characterized as the supreme law of the land, is to regulate and control political behaviors by bringing them under a set of nationally agreed laws. In the eyes of Oromo nationalists, however, it is something that they respect only when it is at their convenience. Whenever the constitution does not endorse their wishes, they assume the right to go against it. Notably, the provisions guaranteeing and defending individual rights and freedom have always been the part of the constitution that suffered the most, including during the TPLF’s rule. When the wishes of Ormo nationalists clash with the constitution, they feel entitled to take revolutionary, unconstitutional measures.
Other than the persecutions of the followers of Orthodox Christianity, the ethnic cleansings of Amhara settlers in Oromia are violent, unconstitutional actions, since the constitution declares that “every Ethiopian has the right to engage freely in economic activity and to pursue a livelihood of his choice anywhere within the national territory.” So are the arbitrary imprisonment of Amhara elites, the ongoing process of integrating Addis Ababa into the Oromo administration, and the plan to achieve complete Oromo hegemony over the political and economic life of the country. The only difference with the previous revolutions is that the process is slow and creeping, in contrast to the Derg’s and TPLF’s drastic changes by means of official decrees.
Conclusion
What lesson can one draw from these never-ending upheavals? I have been frequently accused of being a supporter of the existing ethnic federalism. Yet nowhere did I say that the existing constitution should be maintained as it is. In fact, I have argued that it needs serious revisions under the condition that the revisions are discussed freely and approved by a majority vote of the Ethiopian people, thereby making sure they are not imposed by elites or a dominant elite group.
My contention was and still is my rejection of revolutionary means to get what we want. The simple riddance of the constitution without prior national agreement would be nothing else than a revolutionary course of action that is likely to offend other contenders in addition to causing another social chaos. I wanted to believe that after decades of destructive revolutionary actions, the Ethiopian people, elites in particular, have immunized themselves against revolutionary options in favor of reformist methods. I bitterly realized that, for many competing elite groups, revolution is good when it supports their interests and unacceptable when it goes against them. As a result, many have developed a relativist understanding of constitutional order, even as they consider it the supreme law of the land.
If our claim that revolutionary change is no good is sincere, then the lesson to draw is clear enough. Our fight for change should focus on the disrespect of the constitution and on the accountability of those in power who knowingly breach its articles. This does not mean that we do not want change, but that we build on the already existing constitution by correcting its fallings. In this way, our fight for change acquires a progressive direction. The correct path to change is not to negate what precedes, that is, to carry out a tabula rasa and start from zero; it is to eliminate its negative sides while keeping the positive elements, thereby realizing a higher synthesis by integrating it into the new. To quote F. Engles, “negation in dialectics does not mean simply saying no, or declaring that something does not exist, or destroying it in any way one likes. . . I must not only negate, but also sublate the negation” (Anti-Dühring).
So conceived, change becomes a synthesis that overcomes the contradiction of the past by reaching a higher stage. Ethiopia has nothing to gain but much to lose in stability, unity, and consensus-building praxis if dragged into another cycle of revolutionary upheaval. What other term than inviability describes a country that goes through so many revolutionary processes in less than 50 years, with each process bringing us closer to the final catastrophe? I say let us give due consideration to stability and to implementing what we already have before we go to the next stage. In this way, we enter the path of progressive change, that is, of change reconciling past achievements with the new.
