The War on Tigray Part 2: The Danger of Political Polarization

Photo by Daniele Levis Pelusi on Unsplash

I’m not speaking on behalf of the Ethiopian adoptee community. This is my perspective only.

I’ve felt as if a permanent dark cloud was looming over my head for the past month. There have been moments of respite (having a toddler definitely helps), however the mood has been extremely heavy. I take breaks from reading the news, however I can’t forget or pretend that what’s happening is not happening. It’s just not something that some of us have the luxury of doing.

To add to this point, there seems to be an assumption that because adopted people like myself are somewhat detached from Ethiopia due to language, culture and upbringing that it doesn’t affect us and most importantly— that we don’t have the right to speak out against what’s happening in Tigray because we lack knowledge and experience. To be clear, this matters because there are many layers to this conflict that run deep. I’m not an expert on Ethiopian politics and I’m not fluent in Amharic or Tigrinya, but I did study international relations and comparative politics, so I’m no stranger to the complexity of politics, especially politics of the Horn of Africa.

Still, I wholeheartedly reject the notion that I need to stay silent about massive human rights violations being committed. It’s true that information from the conflict zone is hard to verify due to the telecom blackout and not to mention, the lack of freedom of press in Ethiopia. But I’m pushing back on the widely-held view and unspoken consensus that showing concern, support and solidarity for those in Tigray and their families is a betrayal to the rest of Ethiopia/ns due to the political violence and human rights abuses committed by the EPRDF.

I’m well-aware that personal and political circumstances compel people to support regimes that may or may not act in their favor -it’s rarely a cut and dry affair. But the reality is that people are being forced to flee and horrific atrocities have been reported on all sides - Tigrayan refugees in Sudan, Eritrean refugees in Tigray and the massacre at Mai-Kadra. 

In addition, Oromo people (and other southern nations) continue to be massacred, oppressed and face systemic discrimination and political exclusion, even prior to the EPRDF’s authoritarian rule.

What’s most concerning here is that the political discourses and ensuing debates are so polarizing that it’s preventing us from having meaningful (inter-ethnic) dialogue and empathy for each other, meaning that it obscures what should be our number one focus and intention: protecting those bearing the brunt of the war and the most vulnerable - women, children and the elderly.

People need to come before politics; we often try to do the reverse and it fails miserably and repeatedly.

In my humble view, the retreat to nationalism and nationalistic rhetoric that I’ve seen from all sides is enticing; it brings people together, re-affirms their identity and experiences and makes people feel heard, however the danger is that it deters us (and maybe even prevents us) from working together and collaborating to find solutions to our shared problems.

Honestly, I would like to see more bridges made between groups and those with opposing views. This could mean letting go of ego-driven arguments and having more vulnerable conversations, perhaps even sitting with your pain and facing your trauma.

This year, we’ve been talking a lot about Black Lives Matter - everyone (and everything) is being called out, right, left and center. It’s a time of reckoning where we’re being forced to do a lot of collective thinking around systems of oppression and the roles we play within them. Also, how to dismantle these systems, change them, work within them - survive and thrive.

I’m wondering how we can apply some of the lessons we’ve learned this year to what’s been happening in Ethiopia, particularly to Tigray. It might seem like a stretch due to different contexts, but there are recurring themes around historical grievances, privilege, oppression, shame, pain, hurt and suffering, as well as the need to undo and reform old systems.

We have to be open to learning (and unlearning) and healing too. Many people rely on their faith for this, however pairing it with deep self-inquiry would be constructive so the issues at-hand are not glossed over.

So, I challenge you to move out of your comfort zone and take action in a way that’s possible for you whether that’s through open conversation, listening to other perspectives or having inter-ethnic dialogue - you can listen here for some inspiration.

Or if this isn’t possible for you, consider making a donation to the UNHCR to help support the 50 000 refugees from Tigray who are now in Sudan.