Originally published on Teshome Beyene’s blog, republished here with permission.
Rhetoric and Reality: Reflections on the Premier’s Parliamentary Address
Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed’s four-hour sessions of questions and answers last week in parliament was one of the most extensive since his coming to power.
From the outset, I could sense that this would be an exhaustive display of both rhetoric and policy exposition. He went at length on virtually every issue of national concern: economic policies, political developments, security matters, social issues—you name it. And the atmosphere of the parliament was, as always, something remarkable in itself. Frequent clappings and applause punctuated almost every statement, which immediately reminded me of the EPRDF-era parliament. That was a parliament where members laughed readily at jokes and clapped at every turn. It made the institution seem at once consistent and, to my eyes, somewhat ridiculous.
The premier allowed a tinge of contempt to slip into his words, hinting that the parliamentarians might not fully understand certain matters or needed more elaboration to grasp the nuances of a development. I found this mixture of condescension and adulation peculiar. Perhaps it suited the intelligence—or lack thereof—of the assembly. The premier, as always, has also shown a fondness for animal lore; several times, he gave parables drawn from the animal world to illustrate points. Personally, I found this discomforting, particularly when overdone—it felt, at times, as though I were seated in a lecture hall for children, rather than witnessing a parliamentary debate on national affairs.
He took all the time in the world to explain his points. He discussed the proliferation of sectors in his macroeconomic policies, the decline of inflation—he claimed it was the lowest since the Ethiopian millennium—and emphasized that no previous government had planned large-scale projects with such ambition. Economic growth, he suggested, could be seen and felt by the naked eye, unless one lacked the “blessing of a good nose and eye,” as he put it, injecting a touch of sarcasm.
He dwelled extensively on corridor development, portraying it as a strategy to lift youth out of decadence and addiction, and to introduce healthier urban lifestyles, which he claimed was already beginning to bear fruit. He extolled the unprecedented nature of economic changes and project implementation, even suggesting that his administration alone had a vision for Ethiopia’s future that previous governments had never dreamed of.
I must admit that, in terms of preparation and mastery of what he was presenting, the prime minister was impressive. His command over statistics and capacity to connect multiple policy domains were evident. Personally, I was drawn to his remarks on housing. The plan to construct 1.5 million housing units over the coming years struck me as a necessary and tangible step. Similarly, his discussion of mega projects—especially the airport—was encouraging, considering Ethiopia’s long-standing role as a transport hub in Africa.
One aspect where his government truly stands out, and one he repeatedly highlighted, is the ability to implement projects effectively. On this, I would give him high marks; few administrations in Ethiopia have shown such consistent follow-through on large-scale initiatives. Yet, while his exposition was detailed and selective, focusing on areas he wished to highlight, it left certain pressing social and political issues largely unaddressed.
Regarding the economy, a few important reminders are necessary. The Prime Minister made it seem as though the EPRDF’s economic policy had no focus on industrialization, which is inaccurate. In reality, the EPRDF had shifted its focus from agriculture to industrialization during its later planning phases. Industrialization became the top priority, evidenced by the construction of 10 sugar factories, an initiative for a fertilizer plant, METEC-led bold industrial ventures, 10 industrial parks, and 3 agro-industrial parks, among numerous other initiatives.
Another point of contention is his portrayal of mega-projects as uniquely his government’s achievement. One must recall that major power-generation projects—including the Renaissance Dam—were conceived and launched before his tenure. Similarly, the design and launch of a 2,350-kilometer railway network – whatever was completed had been abandoned under his government – the revitalization of over twenty airports, and the rapid road network connecting Addis Ababa to Adama and beyond, were largely products of previous administrations’ planning and execution.
On inflation, he appeared somewhat prematurely celebratory: while 11 percent is lower than recent peaks, it remains high, particularly considering that it is calculated against an already elevated baseline.
Yet, despite the extensive elaboration, several crucial areas were conspicuously absent from his speech, and I suspect they were purposefully avoided. I identified four major points that, in my view, demand more critical attention.
First: Poverty. The premier, at one point, seemed to ridicule those who focus on poverty without acknowledging development. To me, this reasoning is fundamentally flawed. Development must ultimately be measured by the reduction of poverty, not by the number of mega projects or infrastructure initiatives. The picture he painted for Ethiopia’s future was, in many ways, heart-warming, but I kept asking myself: are citizens eating three times a day? Are they adequately clothed? Do they have shelter? Are children attending school, and is healthcare accessible? These are basic human concerns. While the narrative of growth and projects is appealing, it does not directly answer the question of whether people’s lives are materially better. During the EPRDF era, poverty reduction was central: absolute poverty fell from around 60% to 23% over 27 years, and social indicators improved significantly. Out of the Millennium Development Goals, eight of ten were met—a remarkable achievement for a developing country. Thus, I cannot help but feel that, in a poor country like Ethiopia, prosperity should be measured by the ability to feed, shelter, and educate its citizens. On this count, the premier’s speech left me dissatisfied.
Second: Corruption. Ethiopia is witnessing an unprecedented level of corruption. Bribes are openly negotiated; public offices and institutions are looted in broad daylight. People speak casually about “how much to pay” in bribes as if a lawful transaction. I found it troubling that the premier extolled economic growth without addressing the systemic corruption that undermines it. In my view, prosperity can only exist for a section of the population with such widespread graft; economic growth on paper is meaningless if the fruits are siphoned off through corruption.
Third: Regional disparity. I could not help noticing the imbalance between regions. The north, particularly Tigray and Amhara, seems to be lagging, while the central, southern, and western regions grow better. For instance, the per-hectare wheat production growth he cited does not appear to reflect conditions in Tigray or Amhara. Tourism growth similarly seems uneven.
Fourth: Security. The premier spoke of the importance of peace and its role in development, but largely downplayed the reality of lawlessness, security breaches, and limitations on free movement. In my observation, security is not just a talking point—it is a lived reality. Ordinary citizens experience daily restrictions, and the inability to move freely threatens both social stability and economic activity.
Beyond these omissions, the speech revealed three broader strategic points. First, elections are imminent, and there is no intention to postpone them. Yet, I could not see party platforms being clarified, public debates organized, or voter education being prioritized. It gives little sense of a transparent electoral process. Second, he disclosed that Eritrea had expressed discontent with his government over the Pretoria Agreement, remarking that “Tigray is not finished”—a statement that revealed tensions between the two governments.
The third major point is that, even if not for the first time, he has amplified his position that he will do whatever it takes to ensure Ethiopia’s access to the sea. He even stated that the use of force could be necessary if it is required to achieve that goal. In his extended exposition, he argued convincingly that Ethiopia must have access to the sea, citing geographical, historical, economic, and legal reasons that make control of the Assab port essential.
Personally, I have nothing against this argument. Ethiopia has been a maritime nation from the Axumite era until Eritrea seceded, and it retained access for over forty years after Eritrea’s decolonization. Hence, his claim that Ethiopia needs access to the sea is valid.
What is problematic, however, is the notion of achieving that access “even if it means the use of force.” Eritrea is an internationally recognized country; whether its independence process had flaws or not, it went through a referendum. The Eritrean people gained their independence after a long struggle, compounded by numerous mistakes by successive Ethiopian governments that pushed Eritreans. Ultimately, it was the Eritrean people who decided—they did not want to remain part of Ethiopia.
So how can anyone now claim, “I cannot find a shred of evidence of how Ethiopia lost the ports”? The record is clear: thirty years of war, the transitional conference in Addis Ababa in July 1991, the referendum, and international recognition. That is it.
I would rather see Abiy argue that Ethiopia needs access to the sea, and that he pursue this goal diplomatically and politically. The need for access to the sea alone is not sufficient justification for going to war.
Turning specifically to Tigray, the TPLF, and related matters, he made some observations. I noted several fallacies and selective presentations of facts in his discourse:
1) The claim that the constitution was “that of the TPLF” is misleading. One can certainly criticize the constitution bitterly, but to label it as solely TPLF’s is, in my view, a diversion from the truth. The constitution emerged from the collective input of Ethiopian nationalists, including the OLF, TPLF, and various smaller ethnic and regional groups. It was well-debated during its introduction, though more thought might have been given to the structure of the country itself. Many of the constitution’s shortcomings and loopholes stem from these foundational problem.
To ascribe it merely to the TPLF is an understatement. The TPLF had a strong hand in it but negotiated with others. I should add that the constitution was first and foremost the darling of Oromo nationalists. Having said that, on the democratic front, particularly regarding the rights and obligations of citizens, the constitution is excellent and state-of-the-art. The primary question, however, concerns how the country is organized and whether federalism along lines of language, culture, and regional identity was proper or if it was implemented—even if the concept of federalism itself should not be dismissed.
To put a bit of irony, I suspect that Abiy secretly loves the constitution, for without this constitution Abiy would not have risen to power. Besides, the constitution created powerful regional states, notably Oromia and Amhara, and Abiy is a professed Oromo, and he came to power on that platform.
By the way, this is reminiscent of what Abiy said on the eve of the Ethiopian New Year in 2021 in Gondar, when addressing a military contingent. He referred to the Ethio-Eritrean war of 1998–2000 as “a war picked up by the TPLF.” To me, that was a betrayal. The war was instigated by the arrogance and vanity of Isaias Afeworki, yet Ethiopians from across the country rose to reclaim territory and defend sovereignty. To ascribe it solely to the TPLF was convenient in front of troops preparing for combat against TPLF-led army, but it was a distortion of history.
2) He spoke about certain internal dissidents acting as messengers to foreign powers, likely alluding to the TPLF, Fano, and others. Yet one must question who collaborated with foreign countries to destroy their own people between 2020 and 2022. Who was it that traveled to the UAE and other Middle Eastern countries on his first international tour, countries that previous governments had kept at arm’s length? Abiy not only embraced these nations—Egypt, Saudi Arabia, UAE—but also promised tracts of land in Addis Ababa, including Le Gehar, to UAE investors and introduced UAE drones into Ethiopia to fight his own citizens. On this matter, he should be tongue-tied.
3) He cited the invitation and empowerment of Getachew Reda as evidence of his government’s clemency, forgiveness and desire for reconciliation. This is a misrepresentation. Getachew Reda is an individual, not an institution. Granting a former nemesis a role in government has been common practice throughout history—Emperor Haile Selassie, for example, restored powers to those who collaborated with Italy during the war. For the people of Tigray, Abiy’s rapprochement with Getachew Reda adds little. The critical question is the extent to which Abiy has facilitated Tigray’s reconstruction, helped the region recover after the war, and curbed the dissemination of venomous propaganda against Tigray.
4) Regarding the Pretoria Agreement, he referenced the authority of Getachew, Tsadkan, and Assefa to reinforce points he did not argue about convincingly. It is true Pretoria calls for demilitarization and reintegration of forces, but it also demands the restoration of Tigray’s sovereignty. Under the Ethiopian constitution, states are sovereign and have borders, not mere lines as Abiy implied. In Nairobi, following Pretoria, Generals Tadese and General Berhanu agreed that disarmament and the restoration of forcibly occupied regions are concurrent processes. Therefore, discussing demilitarization without addressing land restoration and the resettlement of displaced persons is incomplete and misleading. Moreover, there were seven TPLF negotiators at Pretoria, not only the three he mentioned. While the three were leaders, they were not the only participants. This is just for the record, not that it is a supremely important omission.
5) He asserted that the Pretoria Agreement annulled Tigray’s elections and recognized his election and premiership. This, to me, is a classic case of “might makes right.” Abiy postponed national elections for a year citing the coronavirus, a decision that arguably lacked constitutional grounding. Tigray held its regional election without the involvement of the Ethiopian Electoral Commission, which refused participation. In a federal system, should a state’s decision to hold an election be grounds for censure and war? I do not believe so. The TPLF should have chosen to postpone for practical reasons, to avoid escalating conflict, but in principle, there was no constitutional issue. Ultimately, Tigryan forces, under immense pressure from coordinated attacks including foreign forces and hollowing out of logistics, could not sustain prolonged conflict and had to retreat. Pretoria reflects that reality, but it does not inherently legitimize Abiy’s power.
6) Abiy equated the issue of Wolkait, Tsegede, and other occupied regions with land claims in other parts of Ethiopia. This is a false equivalence. No other region experienced land taken by force. Elsewhere, claims occur within existing territorial boundaries. In Tigray, land was forcibly occupied, accompanied by massive crimes and mass evictions. The comparison is entirely misleading. To emphasize his point, he even claimed that Dire Dawa was originally part of Oromia and only made neutral between Oromia and Somalia by agreement. I am skeptical of this assertion; Dire Dawa was never part of Oromia, to my knowledge, though I am open to correction.
7) On reconstruction and restoration of government services in Tigray, yes, his government resumed basic services. But he should not pat his back on that. These are the very services that his administration had previously withheld, causing widespread suffering. One witty observer in Mekele likened it to cutting off someone’s limb, then giving them a wheelchair and expecting a praise for that. The national army, together with Eritrean forces, destroyed critical social infrastracture not to speek of production facilities including the Ezana Gold Plant in Shire, Alemeda Factory, Sheba Leather, and Addis Pharmaceuticals, while his army stood by.
8) He claimed that the war in Tigray lasted only two months and suggested the conflict in Wollega was graver. In reality, Tigray’s war spanned exactly two years, with a brief respite between December 2021 and August 2022. Accounting for battles in Amhara, the net period of pitched conflict in Tigray was around eleven months—the bloodiest at that time. If Wollega’s conflict was worse, then the country has endured far more bloodshed than widely recognized. This makes peace and reconciliation all the more urgent. Having said that, I struggle to understand why Abiy would downplay the Tigray war—a conflict I would call genocidal—and what purpose that served.
9) Finally, Abiy expressed absolute certainty in the outcome of war, insisting that no one should doubt his army’s victory. While such confidence should be projected by a national leader, to believe one is 100 percent certain is a bit overboard. War, like sport, is never guaranteed in its success. Even for powerful nations such as Russia, outcomes remain uncertain, as demonstrated by Ukraine’s ongoing resistance. Emphasizing invincibility risks alienating a population weary of war, constant mobilization, and endless rhetoric about the army’s indefatigability. It is much more helpful to truly denounce war as a means, and to call for peace.
Finally, a few lighter observations caught my attention. He mentioned inspecting Tigray’s harvest via drones. I chuckled, wondering whether it was merely a display of technological prowess or a subtle reminder of surveillance capabilities. He also highlighted Ethiopia’s annual population increase—three million—which equals Eritrea’s total population. While the comparison was clever in the context of the critical need for ports and sea coast, it underscored the urgent need for population control policies, which remain largely unaddressed.
In sum, the speech was a masterclass in preparation, rhetoric, and command over details. Yet, I left with mixed feelings: admiration for the thoroughness, frustration at omissions and selective truths, and a lingering concern that the deeper, pressing realities—poverty, corruption, regional disparities, and security—remain inadequately addressed.
The claims he made regarding Tigray offer little cause for hope. It is another session that sends chills down your spine, suggesting that we may not be emerging from our dismal situation as a people, and that the national leader is not inclined to improve matters for all of us.