Eulogy of Whining Nation: Ethiopia’s self-inflicted wounds, fallacy of seeking sympathy
By Mohamud A. Ahmed
Addis Abeba – For over three centuries, Ethiopia has been shackled to the iron clasp of the gun, where power and violence have been indistinguishable lovers in a tragic dance. Regardless of who ascended the throne, the dagger of rule remained bloodied, the parchment of governance inked in sorrow, and the cries of the oppressed muffled beneath the boots of those who sought dominion.
Yet, amid our self-inflicted torment, we have sought the world’s ears, hoping that our lamentations would awaken an echo of pity. We have penned volumes of suffering, narrated sagas of despair, and composed dirges of ethnic bloodshed, expecting an audience that would come to our rescue. But here lies the bitter truth: the world does not care. It never has, and it never will.
For over three hundred years, we have refused to separate the sword from the throne, and now we wonder why the walls of peace are crumbling. Every ruler who donned the crown came armed with fire and fury, convinced that the only language Ethiopia understands is brute force. From emperors waging wars of consolidation to revolutionaries bathing the land in purges to modern power brokers who trade bullets for votes—the pattern remains the same: we have made violence the custodian of our fate.
And when the seeds of our misdeeds bear poisonous fruit, when our streets are painted with the blood of brothers, when our leaders manufacture misery with impunity, what do we do? We wail to the world, composing endless ballads of persecution, oppression, and betrayal, hoping for a savior who will never come. The harsh reality is that our story, no matter how tragic, will never command the world’s sympathy—because every nation has its own scars, its own tribulations, and its own battles to fight.
Misguided Search for Sympathy
The perspective that the world awaits our testimony is a misconception. Historical evidence contradicts this notion. The world did not halt during Somalia’s descent into warlordism. Nor did it react during the prolonged conflict in the Congo. Furthermore, the world failed to intervene during the Rwandan genocide.
And yet, we think that by shouting louder, by broadcasting our agony to foreign ears, we will receive deliverance. No, Ethiopia. The world is not an orphanage for failed states, nor is it a refuge for those who cannot govern themselves. It is a coliseum where only the strong, the disciplined, and the visionary survive.
Instead of learning from history, we have become its prisoners. We cry about foreign interference while gladly accepting the very tools of destruction handed to us. External forces have never needed to invade Ethiopia—they simply provide us with what we need to annihilate ourselves: propaganda, weapons, and incentives to betray one another. They sit in boardrooms, watching as we reduce our cities to ashes, as we sacrifice our future for short-term greed, and as we repeat the mistakes of our ancestors with stunning precision.
If we do not wake up from this self-inflicted nightmare, the future of Ethiopia will not be determined by those who love it but by those who seek to dismantle it. And they will not need to fire a single shot—we will do their bidding for them.
The world will not listen to Ethiopia’s suffering. It will only listen to Ethiopia’s strength. Our pain does not entitle us to international sympathy. Our history does not grant us immunity from reality. Our grievances, no matter how justified, will never be a currency of influence.
The path forward for Ethiopia is not preordained by the sins of the past but by the choices of the present.”
If we want to be heard, we must speak the language of results. We must build institutions that transcend ethnicity, leadership that commands respect, and a nation that is defined not by its wounds but by its wisdom. The world does not pity nations that wail—it respects nations that rise.
Breaking the Habit
Yet, history is not without hope. The path forward for Ethiopia is not preordained by the sins of the past but by the choices of the present. To break the habit of tyranny, leaders must first confront their own reflection—acknowledge the disease that afflicts them before prescribing a cure for the nation.
This is not merely about changing policies; it is about dismantling an entire political psychology that sees domination as governance, humiliation as stability, and silence as peace. It is about leaders recognizing that to rule is not to conquer, and to govern is not to subjugate.
But will they? Or will the cycle continue, repeating itself with new faces but the same grim philosophy? Dostoevsky offers us a dire warning: the longer tyranny persists, the deeper it takes root. The further one travels into the intoxication of power, the harder it is to return to the shores of human decency. Ethiopia stands at that precipice. Whether it chooses to step back or leap forward into the abyss will determine the fate of generations to come.
The administration of Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed should do whatever it takes to ensure that the Tigray region does not descend back into war. The scars are still fresh, the memories of destruction still haunt the nation, and another conflict will be the undoing of Ethiopia as a sovereign entity. War is not an option, and history will not forgive another chapter of destruction written in the blood of its people. Find an organic dialogue, an honest and inclusive path to address the grievances that linger and prevent another abyss of suffering.
Likewise, we should seek meaningful and strategic dialogue with Fano Groups and the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA). The tensions of today must not be allowed to fester into an irreversible catastrophe. Ethiopia cannot afford another cycle of rebellion and counter-rebellion; the nation must break this vicious cycle and opt for sustainable peace. The Ethiopian National Dialogue Commission must be empowered, nurtured, and shielded from political maneuvering, for it is the only hope where all factions can meet, converse, and chart a future together.
Meanwhile, the ONLF (Ogaden National Liberation Front) continues to wander through foreign lands, lamenting grievances in places where no real solutions exist. The peace pact signed in good faith still lingers in uncertainty, its fate balancing on the fine edge of political will. If the Prime Minister perceives their concerns as trivial mistrust, he risks allowing a minor crack to become a chasm, one that external forces will eagerly exploit. What seems insignificant to one could be a defining issue for another, and history teaches us that dismissing such concerns often leads to regret.
The world has grown colder, less patient, and wholly indifferent. Those who once wielded aid as a tool to impose their will are now preoccupied with their own fractures. There is no longer a single ear willing to listen to Ethiopia’s lamentations.
So, Ethiopia, stop whining. Stop narrating your tragedy as though it is a song the world will hum along to. Get up. Build. Govern. Thrive.
Only then will the world listen—not because of our suffering but because of our strength. AS
Mohamud A. Ahmed (Prof.) is a columnist, political analyst, and researcher at Greenlight Advisors Group, Somali Region State.
Crédito: Link de origem