Ethiopia’s Authoritarianism is Built on Bulldozer Politics

We worked hard, brick by brick, building our homes, our businesses, and our lives. Now, everything is destroyed, and the land is handed over to those with money and connections. They say it’s for progress, but I don’t see any progress in losing everything I’ve worked for. This isn’t modernization; it’s a massacre of the poor.

Resident of Bole Bulbula, Addis Ababa, February 2024

Urban Corridor Development threatens to erase the poor from Ethiopia’s cityscape

Ethiopia’s cities are changing fast. Under a government program called “urban corridor development,” neighborhoods are being flattened, homes demolished, and families kicked out—all in the name of modernization. The Ethiopian Human Rights Commission (EHRC) revealed in its 2023 report that a staggering 111,811 houses were demolished in Addis Ababa and Sheger cities alone, marking one of the largest waves of urban displacement in the country’s recent history. Behind the rhetoric of progress lies a more troubling truth: communities are being uprooted, not uplifted.

Thousands of urban poor have been evicted with little notice, their homes bulldozed to make way for glossy developments that mostly benefit those with money or political connections. While officials praise the plan as forward-looking, many residents see it as an attack on their lives and livelihoods—a tool used to strip them of power, dignity, and any say in the future of their own cities.

What’s happening in Addis Ababa, Sheger City, and beyond is not just about buildings. It’s about who gets to live in the city, who gets pushed out, and who profits from the land. The government is using legal excuses to carry out these evictions—laws about cleanliness or building codes that were ignored for years are now being selectively enforced to justify mass demolitions.

It’s hard to ignore the timing. Old laws that lay dormant for decades have suddenly been brought back to life just as the government ramps up demolitions. Proclamation No. 721/2011, for example, is being used to evict residents overnight. But it’s not about legality—it’s about control. It’s about deciding who gets to stay and who doesn’t, based not on justice, but on politics and power.

While the poor are punished for informal housing—homes often built with their life savings—the very officials who once turned a blind eye to illegal settlements are now in higher positions of power. It’s a familiar story: the rich and connected thrive, while the poor are told to move on.

Land for Power

What’s happening in Ethiopia’s cities isn’t just a shift in urban planning—it’s a calculated power grab. Political and business elites are tightening their hold on city land, and demolitions are one of the main tools they’re using to do it. In today’s climate of corruption and political patronage, land has become the currency of control.

Bulldozing entire neighborhoods doesn’t just clear space for new construction—it clears away the people most likely to resist. It breaks up communities, undermines any grassroots opposition, and turns public land into private profit for those with the right connections.

During a visit to Jimma, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed announced that 15,000 residential homes had been demolished to make way for corridor development and claimed that the displaced residents had not requested compensation. The statement sparked public outrage and was widely ridiculed as a cynical dismissal of the victims’ suffering. Beyond its insensitivity, the remark exposed the state’s broader strategy: reframing forced evictions as “voluntary compliance” in order to deflect accountability and delegitimize dissent.

In a country shaken by conflict and instability, grabbing land has become a fast and effective way for elites to build their wealth and influence. What looks like urban renewal on paper is, in practice, a system of extraction—taking from the poor to benefit the powerful.

British geographer David Harvey calls this “accumulation by dispossession”—a process where the state uses legal and economic tools to take land and resources from the poor under the pretense of law and order. That’s exactly what’s happening here.

Likewise, scholars like Can and Fanton have pointed out how governments around the world are increasingly turning to force and coercion to push through market-led urban makeovers. Ethiopia’s story fits this global trend: redevelopment isn’t about fixing housing shortages or improving services—it’s about exclusion.

The demolition of informal settlements isn’t an unfortunate side effect; it’s the point. By wiping out poor communities, the state clears a path for regime-backed developers and investors to move in. These projects, often marketed as symbols of modernization, are in reality highly centralized, coercive, and deeply political. Instead of lifting people out of poverty, they entrench inequality. Instead of building inclusive cities, they erase the very people who make them vibrant and alive.

Gentrification Game

In theory, cities are for everyone. But in practice, Ethiopia’s urban transformation is leaving out the very people who built these neighborhoods. The demolitions aren’t about solving a housing crisis—they’re about making room for expensive real estate projects and luxury developments that the average person can’t afford.

Urban policy is being written not with citizens in mind, but with foreign investors, local tycoons, and government insiders at the table. The result? A city that works for a few, and pushes out the rest. One city mayor put it bluntly: “They used to be both poor and illegal; they are now at least legal poor.” This isn’t a slip of the tongue—it’s a snapshot of the government’s attitude.

Instead of creating affordable housing or improving basic services, Ethiopia’s leaders are criminalizing the poor and pushing them to the margins. The message is clear: unless you have money or connections, there’s no place for you in the new city.

Foreign Backing

Look a little deeper, and it’s clear that gentrification in Ethiopia isn’t just about buildings—it’s about politics. The people who benefit from these projects aren’t just developers; they’re part of a larger political machine. The land deals, the foreign investments, the contracts—they all feed into a system that keeps authoritarian power intact.

And foreign actors aren’t just watching from the sidelines. Some international companies and friendly governments are helping fund these projects, propping up the very system that displaces Ethiopia’s most vulnerable. When investors pour money into these developments without asking hard questions, they become part of the problem.

This version of urban renewal is a trap: shiny on the outside, rotten at the core. It rewards the few while punishing the many. The poor are left with no homes, no compensation, and no future—while the well-connected profit handsomely from their suffering.

Reclaiming Cities

It doesn’t have to be this way. Cities can grow without destroying the communities that already exist within them. Instead of demolishing homes, the government could invest in upgrading informal settlements and providing affordable housing. Instead of handing land to the highest bidder, it could give citizens a voice in planning decisions.

Reversing these trends will take more than good intentions. It requires legal reforms to hold those in power accountable. It means giving communities the right to organize, to be heard, and to demand change. And it means shining a light on the international players who fund and enable this kind of injustice.

Grassroots movements, legal advocacy, and international pressure can all play a part. The fight for the right to the city is a global one—and in Ethiopia, it’s far from over. If cities are to become places of hope and opportunity, they must be built not for profit, but for people.

Query or correction? Email us

While this commentary contains the author’s opinions, Ethiopia Insight will correct factual errors.

Main photo: A bulldozer at work in Addis Ababa. Photo from social media.

Published under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International licence. You may not use the material for commercial purposes.