𝑁𝑒𝑤𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑉𝑖𝑒𝑤𝑠 by Teshome Beyene
This week, we shall explore five interesting subjects under this title. Sufficient space has been given to each to go to the bottom of them to provide the reader with a breadth of the subject and the right context.
I invite you to review the information provided and form your judgment on the personal opinion I have expressed.
Enjoy reading!
1. The Return of General Guesh
There were two Gueshs in the TDF leadership. The first, Guesh Gebregizabher, was a leader who lost his life in western Wollo while the TDF was pressing southward toward Addis Ababa. His sacrifice remains etched in memory.
The second, and the subject of today’s reflection, is General Guesh Gebre.
General Guesh has now returned to his army, Army 15—an unusual comeback by any measure. The rank and file had missed his leadership, longed for his presence, and ultimately pressed for his reinstatement as their founder and chief. Their determination carried the day.
What sets General Guesh apart is his refusal to endorse the January 23, 2025, decision of a large bloc of Tigray’s army commanders. That decision sought to roll back the clock and place the government of Tigrai under the control of the TPLF’s rump congress of last August. By that decree, only the congress was to be considered legitimate, and those who boycotted it—branding it “illegitimate”—were to be sidelined or purged at the whim of figures such as Debretsion and Fetlework. General Guesh and a dozen others, such as General Wedi Antru stood against this regression.
He is remembered above all for his role when the Pretoria negotiations was under way, when TPLF and federal government representatives were locked in intense talks. At that very moment, the joint forces of Isaias and the Ethiopian army pushed toward Adigrat. General Guesh and his army fought with extraordinary courage ten kilometers north of the city. Their resistance was costly, but it saved Adigrat and effectively foiled an attempt to dictate the outcome of Pretoria through military advance. For that stand, Guesh’s name will endure.
One cannot help but compare him to Marshal Georgy Zhukov, who in September 1941 halted the Nazi advance to Leningrad. Admittedly, the circumstances differ—Leningrad endured an 872-day siege, while Adigrat faced no such prolonged ordeal. Yet the strategic outcome is strikingly similar. In both cases, a general stood between the enemy and a city whose fall would have tilted the war irreversibly in the enemy’s favor.
Fast forward to today: Guesh is back. And yet, his reinstatement exposes contradictions in Tigray’s leadership. General Tadesse Worede, upon becoming President of Tigrai, wasted no time reinstating Megbey, Masho, and Fisseha Manjus on his very first day in office. But, he did not extend the same recognition to Guesh and similar others, despite Guesh’s untainted public record in the area of corruption, and his stance on the separation of army and party.
In a recent interview, General Guesh explained his long silence. He had deliberately kept a low profile, waiting for the army’s leadership to reconsider their course and correct themselves. That moment never came. Instead, the January 23 decision deepened Tigrai’s divisions and corroded trust. “It is no longer possible to remain silent and leave matters for others to arbitrate,” he declared. “Let silence be broken.”
He also revealed that the ones who stayed behind had invited him back on the condition that he apologize for not attending the January meeting that produced the fateful decision. His reply was uncompromising: overreliance on procedure at the expense of principle, he argued, is a relic of the past that should have been discarded long ago. It was a timely rebuke—an insistence on substance over form, conviction over ritual.
Whether the government under Tadesse Worede will follow the army’s lead remains to be seen. What is already remarkable, however, is the bottom-up reinstatement of a commander by his subordinates—an inversion of the traditional chain of command. In most armies, this would be considered a travesty. But when the system itself has gone off course, perhaps only the unusual can restore balance.
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2. Tigrai in Peril: A Call for Urgent Action
Once again, Tigrai is descending into an unenviable and dismal situation. Just this week. Suddenly, and without any impending signs, we have witnessed the killing of young girls and boys, the kidnapping of a few of them. Just a row of these crimes has plagued Tigrai in the cities. One stabbed to death there, another bludgeoned with a stone there, and so on.
There was a semblance of return to normalcy for the last three months. I even acknowledged that in my review of 100 days of General Tadese’s exercise of power as a president. I put that on the positive side of the balance sheet. But, as a somersault, that is changing, and a new wave of crimes has hit Tigrai. As if that is not enough, the swamping of tents inhabited by the displaced people in Shire, and mekele by rain has been heart-wrenching. As mentioned many times, hundreds of thousands of displaced people are living in poor makeshift tents everywhere as their lands are still occupied by usurpers and they have no guarantee of a peaceful future. The Pretoria Agreement, for a start, seemed to give a guarantee initially, but no one seems to be working in earnest on that. It is only on paper.
The very first task of a government, which is to keep law and order and ensure the safety of its citizens, is floundering. As never before, and alien to Tigrai, kidnapping for ransom, cold-blooded killing to rob and loot are becoming commonplace in the urban areas. And you wonder what the police are doing, or if they are overwhelmed.
There is a story that I heard this week and would like to share here. A certain group of young people stayed out for an evening of chill out in Mekele. And a police man came nearer to them from outside and asked them, “Can you please give me a lift to my house if you have a car? I am terrified I might be attacked on my way”. The time was only 9 pm, and he was fearful for his life. They invited him for a drink, and he stayed until everybody was over with their enjoyment, and they took him and dropped him at his home. The moral of the story is when a policeman cannot defend his life, how can he defend others’ lives? It is a sordid state we are getting into.
There is a clarion call to General Tadese. Please do something urgently. If you are not able to do so, or you think you cannot do so, please let everyone know about that, and let other alternatives be explored. That is as straightforward as one can be, asking you to step down.
3. A Forgotten Travesty of Justice in Tigrai:
The Case of Ayalew Desta and Elsa Tesfay
One of the injustices in Tigrai’s modern history dates back to 1981/82 EC (1989)—the very moment the TPLF army had proudly liberated the whole of Tigrai and established its own administration, provisionally separated from Ethiopia but destined to reunify with the rest of the country after the victory of 1991.
At the time, the TPLF annulled the Derg’s infamous 1975 proclamation that had confiscated all “extra” urban houses. The term extra was only technical: in reality, many families lost much of their property while being allowed to remain in rundown homes, often overcrowded with large families. TPLF’s reversal of that confiscation was widely welcomed—it seemed a fair and justified measure.
Yet, the decision carried a fatal flaw. Implementation was left to the baitos (local councils), which were closely guided by TPLF leaders. The Baitos ruled that certain individuals should not benefit from the right of return of their properties, alleging that those properties had been acquired through power, corruption, or illegitimate means, or even that the owners had stood against the TPLF. The problem was that these claims were never substantiated by adequate evidence. Nor were the accused, many of whom were already deceased, granted due process. Their children, scattered across the country and abroad, could not mount an effective defense.
The result was a brazen violation of the right to property and equal protection under the law. Homes were diverted to government officials, turned into government or parastatal offices, or allocated to civil service organizations. In some cases, the original owners—stripped of their rights—were forced to pay rent to live in their own homes.
This week, a particularly striking case resurfaced: the family of the late Ayalew Desta, a judge during the Imperial and Derg eras. His home was seized under the flimsy cover of pseudo-legal justifications, and his family was forced to live in their own house by paying rent. The house was even an inheritance from a generation before, from the parents of one of the spouses (Ato Ayalew or Woizero Jember), and that even makes it a farce to start with. Moreover, Ato Ayalew was a focused judge who mingled and blended with a community of friends and neighbours, a down-to-earth man who was universally accepted.
Another case in point is Elsa Tesfai, the iconic Mekele resident and a member of beauty pageants in the early 1970s. As a fashionable young woman, she was the first female ever to own and drive a car on the streets of Mekele. Elsa later ran a cozy bar in the city, for which ordinary residents fondly remember her. Yet the TPLF targeted her with allegations of wrongdoing—unsubstantiated and never made public—and ultimately confiscated her house. Now an elderly woman, Elsa has understandably lost hope of ever reclaiming her home.
A well-informed source now reveals that more than a hundred families in Tigrai suffered the same fate for over three decades. This policy was enforced during Gebru Asrat’s presidency of Tigrai and left untouched under the successive administrations of Tsegay Berhe, Abay Woldu, and even Getachew Reda. As for Debretsion—who is not known for decisive action—he too let the injustice stand.
The contrast is glaring. When Abiy Ahmed came to power, he quickly abolished a series of outdated proclamations and repressive measures—so-called “quick wins” that earned him considerable support. Of course, he lost much of his currency owing to what he has done since then. All the same, yet no Tigrian leader has demonstrated the will to do the same, to right this long-standing wrong, or to return confiscated homes to their rightful owners. Adding insult to injury, some individuals were able to reclaim their properties through lobbying and connections, while others—equally entitled—remained dispossessed. No consistent standard, no transparency, no justice.
What is perhaps most painful is the silence. Intellectuals, activists, and even self-proclaimed advocates of justice did not raise the issue, content to let it languish in the shadows. I don’t spare myself either of this critique.
Now, at last, the ground has been broken. Tigrai Broadcasting Service (TBS), with the catalyst role of Tilahun Tafere, has brought the matter into the open. Their recent interview with the family of the late Ayalew Desta shed light on decades of injustice. The family’s testimony was heartbreaking: the story of a mother who raised generations of children with dignity, only to endure fifty years of dispossession—thirty-six of them under TPLF’s rule.
The Derg’s blanket proclamation, for all its cruelty, at least treated everyone equally. What some Tigrian families endured under the TPLF was worse: discrimination without explanation, injustice without recourse.
Kudos to TBS and Tilahun for lifting the veil. They should now pursue this story relentlessly, investigate its full scope, and hammer on it until Tigrai confronts its past and delivers justice to the families who have been wronged for far too long.
4. Lidetu and Jawar: Unlikely Allies Amid Ethiopia’s Tigrian Crisis
When Jawar Mohammed and Lidetu Ayalew appeared together in a joint interview with Moges Teshome, it marked a striking moment in Ethiopia’s turbulent political landscape. The two men, once seen as political poles if not nemesis, are now standing side by side as part of the Unite Ethiopia movement, launched three months ago with Tewodros Tsegai as its media linchpin. Their central message is loud and urgent: unless Ethiopia’s political class unites around a minimum common agenda — the removal of Abiy Ahmed’s government and the establishment of a transitional, accountable administration — the country risks fragmentation and collapse.
Both men admit that Ethiopia’s politics is riddled with deep divisions, but they argue that questions of identity, structure, or long-term constitutional debates must wait. For now, two points matter above all: 1. Removing Abiy Ahmed’s regime. 2. Replacing it with a representative, accountable transitional government.
That these two leaders have come together is itself a symbol of the severity of the crisis. Jawar, a long-time Oromo nationalist who has argued that the Oromo people remained marginalized and excluded from power, now shares a platform with Lidetu, a staunch Ethiopianist who has consistently insisted that democracy and national unity — not ethnic federalism — are the keys to Ethiopia’s survival.
A Tale of Two Politicians
Jawar has been a polarizing figure; his past words and shifting positions have been scrutinized and criticized. Lidetu, by contrast, has been more consistent — though not without controversy. Some Ethiopianists still resent him for his role in the fractured opposition following the 2005 elections. Yet, over time, his consistency and principled stances have earned him renewed respect. Both men carry political baggage, but their cooperation reflects an unprecedented phenomenon in Ethiopian politics: necessity is forcing adversaries into partnership. Lidetu argues that Abiy’s regime is so destructive that even ideological opposites must unite. Whatever one thinks of their pasts, the country’s present crisis demands determined voices with clear strategies.
Lidetu Ayalew: A Consistent Voice
Allow me a digression. For me, Lidetu Ayalew stands out as one of Ethiopia’s most consistent and principled politicians — arguably the most. He has shown courage, focus, and selflessness at critical moments. In 2000, at a time when the TPLF-dominated government was accused of privileging Tigrians, Lidetu insisted on national television that the vast majority of Tigrians were “serfs” of the TPLF, not beneficiaries. Two decades later, when Abiy Ahmed and Isaias Afwerki launched a devastating war against Tigray, Lidetu was one of the few voices who condemned it unequivocally. He opposed the invasion, defended the rights of the people of Tigray, and criticized Abiy’s collusion with Eritrea.
Equally important is his unwavering belief in peaceful opposition. While acknowledging that self-defense may sometimes necessitate arms, Lidetu has always championed peaceful political struggle. And he has been remarkably clear-eyed about Abiy Ahmed from the start. While many flirted with Abiy’s promises in 2018, Lidetu warned early on of his authoritarian tendencies.
According to Lidetu, unlike the TPLF/EPRDF, which at least maintained functional institutions and some diplomatic achievements, Abiy’s administration has, in Lidetu’s words, reduced Ethiopia to a “despised nation” on the African stage, not to speak on the world stage.
Lidetu’s Critique of Abiy Ahmed
In his recent interview with Birakeh Show’s Medhin Gebresilassie, Lidetu offered a damning indictment of Abiy’s government and assessed the current political state of the country:
• Fragmentation of the opposition is Abiy’s only lifeline. A united opposition could easily topple him.
• Any collaboration against Abiy is justified. He argues that when Abiy threatens to “decimate Tigray,” alliances — even between TPLF and others — are understandable.
• The regime is a one-man dictatorship. Ethiopia has never been more centralized around a single individual.
• Another war would be catastrophic. Ethiopia, he warns, would face total obliteration.
• Abiy’s push for a port by force is reckless. Such threats have squandered Ethiopia’s diplomatic credibility.
• Abiy is at his weakest point. With no allies left, his military bravado is pure miscalculation.
Demonizing the TPLF while ignoring Abiy’s authoritarianism is, in his words, a “self-inflicted injury.” The TPLF should indeed reform, but calls for its destruction while leaving Abiy unchecked only harm the people of Tigray.
Provided true, the alleged decision of the Tigrian political class not to join Abiy Ahmed in his call on it to collaborate in fighting the Fanos is quite principled and a mark of maturity.
What This Means for Tigray and Beyond For Tigrians
Lidetu’s position offers lessons. More broadly, Tigrian elites — and Ethiopia’s opposition at large — must recognize that Ethiopia’s crises cannot be solved in isolation. Negotiation, coalition-building, and dialogue with figures like Lidetu are necessary, even if disagreements remain over autonomy, language rights, and federalism. These are not necessarily mutually exclusive with national unity. Protecting minority rights can coexist with safeguarding Ethiopia’s continuity, but not necessarily with the current constitution, which caters to majoritarian dictatorship (to borrow a term from Professor Mehari Tadele Maru).
Conclusion
An Unlikely Alliance for a Fragile Nation That Lidetu Ayalew and Jawar Mohammed now sit together is not just a political footnote — it is a symbol of Ethiopia’s dire state. When ideological foes find common ground, it signals both the depth of the crisis and the possibility of renewal. Ethiopia’s future depends on whether such alliances can overcome mistrust, bridge divides, and focus on the urgent task: ending Abiy Ahmed’s broken governance and steering the country toward accountable, democratic governance.
5. Dr. Gebreyesus Teklu: The Relentless Debater
Dr. Gebreyesus Teklu, a lecturer at Mekelle University, has stormed the debate stage like a one-man intellectual whirlwind. He seems to be everywhere—forums, platforms, workshops—you name it. Counting his appearances is futile; one starts to wonder where he finds the energy and time to immerse himself in so many debates and solo interviews. Whatever the source, the results are undeniable.
While he may not always present his ideas with polish or suave rhetoric, the truth he conveys matters more than the packaging. As he demonstrates, the wine tastes the same, regardless of the decanter.
Dr. Gebreyesus has already and within a short period, cultivated a reputation for bold, even brutal ideas that provoke both critique and admiration. His reach spans near and far, attracting attention from supporters and detractors alike. Above all, he emerges as a ferocious Ethiopian nationalist, asserting that for a Tigrean, nationalism is not just fitting but historically justified.
His arguments are meticulously prepared, bolstered by references from books, old manuscripts, and other scholarly sources. He approaches debates with the energy of a crusader, taking on self-confident opponents, bigots, and entrenched political narratives alike. He neither flinches nor indulges in theatrics; his mission is to challenge ideas long held as unassailable truths. Whether motivated by academic rigor, a desire to correct what he sees as historical distortions, or a simmering frustration with “street historians” and “commissioned authors”, his passion is palpable. Beneath it all, there is a discernible undertone of anger toward the establishment and prevailing mainstream narratives.
At the heart of Dr. Gebreyesus’s arguments are several provocative claims—oversimplifying, perhaps, but capturing the essence:
Tigrai was never fully autonomous in the long past. While the language and culture existed, the notion that the region or its people constituted a continuous nation stretching back to Axum is untenable. Historical populations and territories were fluid; projecting modern concepts of nationhood onto that past is misleading.
Tigrians were not systematically oppressed in modern Ethiopian history. Under Haile Selassie or the Derg, Tigreans were respected and often held positions across the country. He has provocatively called them “spoiled.”
The TPLF narrative of oppression is self-serving. Events like the Woyane rebellion or the alleged massacre of medieval Tigrean monks (“Dekike Estifanos”) are, in his view, fabrications or exaggerations.
Eritrea’s independence was facilitated by the TPLF. According to Dr. Gebreyesus, TPLF figures, including Meles Zenawi and Sebhat Nega, functioned as agents of the EPLF, helping Eritrea secure global recognition.
Tigrai-Amhara hostility is largely contrived. He argues that historical animosities between these peoples are overstated.
Non-Tigrean elites, including Shewan nobility, were not as hostile as often portrayed. Much of the narrative of enmity, he suggests, is exaggerated.
Yet, Dr. Gebreyesus does not shy away from acknowledging the tragic reality of 2020–2022: he accepts that genocide occurred, while also implying that elements within Tigrean establishments may have inadvertently contributed to it.
For me, personally, listening to Dr. Gebreyesus is both enlightening and entertaining. Having said that, I am not entirely surprised by his views; I recall a meeting six years ago at Mekelle University with the Global Scholars of Tigrai, where he expressed similar concerns. Even then, his perspective diverged from the consensus.
He may occasionally downplay facts, particularly regarding the historical marginalization of Tigrai, and may have bereaved the 17 years of struggle of its sound motive, but on matters of scholarship and historical analysis, he is prepared and diligent. I defer to his expertise and will personally blend his insights with my knowledge, and I remain open to learn.
Ultimately, the rise of such rigorous debate is a welcome development. We are witnessing a new era where no single group claims a monopoly on truth. Instead, ideas are tested, challenged, and refined. It is a time to embrace scholarly discourse, let arguments prevail over empty rhetoric, and seek understanding through reasoned debate.