An Oromo Democratic Front (ODF) Proposal

ODF

Ethiopia stands at a crossroads, once again. But this time the prospects facing it are much more starkly contrasting than during past instances of change. If it is put on one course of change, achieving a final breakthrough to a common democratic future looks distinctly promising. If such a course is blocked or not pursued by the stakeholders, on the other hand, the breakdown of order appears threateningly possible. The time to put the country on the right course is now. Unless a country-wide consensus is forged for doing so today, the country will continue its steady slide towards the abyss.

As things stand now, the worrying scenario mentioned above appears more plausible than the former. Are we exaggerating and being alarmist when we draw this pessimistic conclusion? If we are alarmist, we are justified to be so because the time to take corrective measures is now before the country has gone over the cliff and reached a point of no return. There are important reasons why all concerned should worry about Ethiopia’s future.

The ongoing debate of the deaf in Ethiopia is just one of these reasons. Parties are talking past each other instead of conversing with each other. No one is genuinely paying attention to the pain and grievances or perspective of the other. As during many past periods in the country’s history, the choices currently confronting it are, once again, posed in a binary either/or manner. Even though the Oromo is at the forefront of the struggle to bring fundamental change in Ethiopia, some continue to sidestep core Oromo demands and talk as if the choices are either defending the present order or restoring the unitary state of yesteryears. Unless prominence is given to the more forward looking alternatives espoused by the Oromo, Ethiopia’s continued existence as a polity is questionable and we may all be condemned to live under a condition of sustained instability.

The present rulers of Ethiopia are absolutely convinced that there is no alternative to their style of administration. Even when admitting the need for some reform, however cosmetic, they can only think of reforming themselves. While endangering the country with its intransigence and refusal to make a shift in course, they shed crocodile tears for the country’s possible implosion if they are toppled. Consequently, they are determined to permanently preserve the status quo. However, societal rejection of their administration has been steadily growing and has now reached fever pitch.

The opposite stand, espoused by a very vocal sector, recognizes nothing valuable in how the present rulers structured Ethiopia and have ruled it for a quarter of a century. In this perspective, the present rulers put Ethiopia on a completely disastrous course from the outset by structuring Ethiopia into a federation curved along ethno-linguistic bases. Proponents of this stand see no alternative to dumping the present administrative system lock, stock and barrel.

The rancorous debate between these two opposing sides, hence, offers nothing new about the future. The present rulers are determined to preserve the status quo that has been rejected by most Ethiopians. Their vocal opponents look back to the time when the country was conceived as a unitary state with ethnic homogenization through assimilation as a strategy to forge a unitary nation and wish to restore it. But that conception of Ethiopia was militarily challenged by an increasing number of armed groups culminating in its replacement by the present structure. Hence, Ethiopian society is being offered the choice of either enduring the present failed approach to governance or the one preceding it, which has also disastrously failed. It is the stalemate between these two proposals, lacking any forward looking element, which worries us about the future of Ethiopia.

We wish to state one of our convictions up front. Structuring Ethiopia as a multinational state is a move in the right direction. And this move is due to neither the diabolical nor noble intensions of the present rulers. It was a historical necessity that was insurmountable at the time the military regime collapsed and the current rulers were catapulted to power. Consequently, the present rulers deserve neither commendation nor condemnation for embracing the principle of multinational federalism in Ethiopia. Structuring Ethiopia as a multinational state was as an unavoidable as was the Dergue’s Land Reform Proclamation of 4 March 1975. Both of these constructive developments in Ethiopia’s recent history were however ultimately abused to serve negative purposes not because they were wrong but because those ruling the country are/were averse to democracy in both instances.

The fundamental aim of this Proposal is articulating an alternative to the two proposals discussed above. Its core intention is recognizing and preserving what is positive in the status quo as well as the one preceding it. This stems from our conviction that some progress has been registered during each of the previous two incidents of change. When posed in this manner, the intention of this Proposal is undeniably reformist. Even at this eleventh hour of a popular revolution precipitated by the regime’s refusal to implement the minimum of reforms in its core policies and basic modus operandi, we believe reform and reformism offers the best route out of the country’s malaise. It aspires to build on positive developments during these instances of change instead of aspiring to totally scrap them.

All stakeholders must admit one fact. The only thing unchangeable in human history is the inevitability of change. Hence, it is better to anticipate the inevitably coming change and plan for it than to be overwhelmed by its unexpected consequences after it has occurred.

What constitutes the litmus test for evaluating the preferred direction of the coming change? We believe the answer lies in Martin Luther King’s now well-known observation that “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” Thus, the next process of change in Ethiopia should position the country “on the arc of the moral universe … bending toward justice.” Morality demands the search for justice for all.

Seeking justice for all is the fundamental aim of this Proposal. Because what is considered as just by one set of actors is often denounced as unjust by another group of actors, even the term “justice” could be controversial in the Ethiopian context just like so many other concepts.

What principle can help close the gulf separating these kinds of contrasting stands concerning justice? We propose that if the exercise of any right does not unjustly infringe on another’s ability to freely exercise their rights, then justice for all would be realized.

This Proposal is deliberately written in a concise form for a reason. The more is stated, the more detractors would find reasons to argue against it. We are not afraid of debate but wish to avoid the hair-splitting type of exchanges that so bedevil political discourse in Ethiopia. We are also not directly addressing the issues that are subjects of ongoing controversies in the country. Instead, we are dealing with the premises, traditions and mentalities—worldviews—lurking behind the positions currently confronting each other.  Unless these underlying assumptions are seriously interrogated and their hindrance to charting a better future is unearthed, we are condemned to relive our past and dismal present.  To prevent Ethiopia from sliding into further chaos, many, including some from the international community, are calling for dialogue between Ethiopia’s contending stakeholders to resolve the impasse.  Dialogue is the only alternative.  However, no dialogue can tackle the impasse without meaningfully addressing the mindsets that underlie the ongoing conflict. This Proposal is prepared with this in mind.

  1. THE MEANS DETERMINES THE END

Political movements in Ethiopia disagree on almost all issues except one. And that exception is democracy. Not a single Ethiopian movement is opposed to democracy. All movements agree that the installation of a democratic order should be the aim of the ongoing struggle. This common aspiration, hence, constitutes the factor potentially uniting the country’s gravely divided movements. Hence, this is an asset that is worth cherishing, preserving and promoting. A potential area of contention is perhaps the undue focus on outcomes rather than the process of democracy and the quality—their impartiality, professionalism, and openness—of the institutions that serve as the pillars of genuinely democratic society.

The controversial question is how the struggle for democracy should be conducted. Specifically, what means of struggle is likely to lead to democracy and what is not? The answer can be found by revisiting the recent history of Ethiopia. On several occasions during the last half century, Ethiopian movements have employed armed/violent struggle as the means to achieve democracy. They have fallen far short of their intended aspiration in each instance. The experiences of numerous other countries corroborate this tragic end result of armed struggle.

At this stage, asking the following provocative question appears pertinent: What is insanity? The equally provocative answer is “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.” Consequently, if democracy is truly our common aspiration, we should reconsider our attitude regarding armed struggle. Armed struggle has not culminated in democracy in the past and is not likely to do so in the future.

The reason for this tragic consequence of armed struggle is quite simple if we are willing to stop and think. Any group employing armed means can prevail over the incumbent dictatorship only under one condition. And that is excelling the incumbent in precisely those behaviours that are inimical to democracy: secretiveness, unquestioning obedience top-down diktats, and intolerance of differing opinion. Because of the need to excel in these undemocratic behaviours in order to defeat the incumbent dictatorship, democracy becomes the first casualty of armed struggle within the movement conducting it. And a movement that itself is undemocratic cannot be expected to become a democratizing agency. No one can practice democracy in the external arena while internally suppressing it. And no internally democratic movement has ever succeeded in successfully conducting the protracted armed struggle that overcoming tyranny entail. Even established democracies are forced to significantly curtail civil freedoms during times of war and serious security threats.

Armed struggle, hence, is ineffective in ushering in democracy and effective only in replacing one form of dictatorship with an even more repressive alternative. Breaking out of this vicious cycle is possible only by dispensing with the common practice of blaming the incumbent for forcing armed means on those seeking democracy. A dictatorship obviously fears and hates democracy more than anything else. As the result, it prefers to manoeuvre its opponents into engaging it on the undemocratic plane, where it has the upper hand. Those genuinely seeking democracy should consciously avoid struggling in the manner preferred by the incumbent dictatorship.

As the country gradually inches day by day into an armed struggle as a default and unavoidable option, it is hard to argue against an oppressed people’s right to defend itself against violent repression by the ruling party. The temptation to avenge our killers and defend against the onslaught of our oppressors is a natural human reaction. Self-defence, by all means in one’s disposal, is an inviolable right. However, we still need to stop and think seriously about where this slippery slope lands us: into the arms of another tyranny.

Even if armed struggle is proven to be unavoidable due to the sheer brutality of the ongoing repression on the civilian population, its negative consequences and how to limit its negative repercussions need to be looked at closely and dispassionately—even if doing so at a time when sections of the country are being turned into bloodbath is seen as ivory-tower intellectual conceit.

The reason why armed struggle replaces one form of dictatorship with an even more repressive alternative has been stated. The dictatorship that captures power by armed means has another complicating nature. It becomes imbued with a high degree of self-righteousness even as the struggle is underway. This is due to the fact that the leadership overseeing the struggle invokes democracy to motivate its followers to pay the highest sacrifice. Such a leadership ultimately assumes that it alone epitomizes democracy. Any criticism of such a leadership runs the risk of being portrayed as opposing democracy and mercilessly suppressed.

After coming to power, such a dictatorship also loves to invoke the memory of the martyrs who died in the struggle as the current regime does ad nauseam. It harangues the public non-stop that it owes a debt to the martyrs and does not state when this debt is paid up. Hence, the dead ends up indefinitely dominating the living. And all sorts of crimes are likely to be committed in the name of those who no more are in a position to express their opinion.

Moreover, the ownership of armed struggle steadily narrows during the struggle ultimately being monopolized by the secretive conspiratorial top leaders or even the top leading personality opening the way for the cult of personality. This appears to be innate to armed struggle and has repeatedly recurred in world history.

The ownership of non-violent struggle, on the contrary, has to continuously expand to embrace all participants. In fact, the only way non-violent struggles can succeed is through widespread public ownership and their active and creative participation in it. The aim and strategies of non-violent struggle are openly declared in order to attract a widespread participation. Once owned by the public in this manner, the path to narrowing the ownership of the struggle is blocked forever. Over all, the ultimate aim of non-violent struggle is openly declared and pursued—imbuing it with a high degree of internal democracy; and can thus culminate in the installation of a democratic order.

Sacrificing one’s life is sadly inevitable in the conduct of both non-violent and armed struggles. But the leaders of armed struggle often end up considering human life as just one of the many resources expended during its conduct. They ultimately draw a balance sheet of the deaths they inflict on the enemy and their own casualties. This cavalier attitude towards human life ultimately devalues it. Combatants are discouraged from openly expressing their grief about the death of their own comrades, to say nothing about that of the opposing force.

Both non-violent and armed struggle require a high degree of selflessness, including the willingness to lay down one’s precious life. However, participants in armed struggle are more nonchalant about taking the life of the opponent—precisely because they are selfless enough to put their own life on the line. On the contrary, non-violent struggle is premised on making the loss of any life unnecessary.  And regrettable, when it happens. Those engaged in non-violent struggle do not aim to t life but to give their own if necessary. Participants in non-violent struggle value their own life as much as they value that of their persecutors. And when any life is lost during the non-violent struggle, the public turns out to mourn and celebrate the life of the martyr.

Armed and non-violent struggle have contrasting impacts on the internal solidarity of the incumbent dictatorship. Armed struggle tends to approach the incumbent as a monolithic entity and aspires to demolish it by force. This external threat plays into the hand of the top leadership of the dictatorship who portrays any threat against it as a threat to anyone sharing anything with it. The rhetoric of the armed opponent may give more prominence to denouncing the top leadership of the dictatorship. But in practice, this denunciation runs the risk of steadily expanding to include the society that spawned the top leadership of the dictatorship. This top leadership would also do everything to fuel this fear of the society that spawned it.

On the contrary, non-violent struggle has the potential of driving a wedge among factions and interest groups within the camp of the dictatorship. Non-violent struggle does not approach the dictatorship as a monolithic entity but a collection of human beings. It does not dismiss outright the existence of individuals with conscience even within the camp of the dictatorship. Non-violent struggle deploys moral arguments in order to impact the conscience of all involved. Some, even in the camp of the dictatorship, are liable to be impacted by this form of persuasion. Hence, non-violent struggle has the potential of drawing a wedge between moderates and the extremist core of the dictatorship.

  1. THE DIVISIVE ROLE OF ETHIOPIAN HISTORY

The preceding section cited Ethiopia’s history of the last half a century in order to evaluate the efficacy of armed struggle in charting a common democratic future. Hence, imagining and working for the realization of a common democratic future inevitably involves looking back at the past. But this does not appear promising in the Ethiopian context. Reading and interpreting history tend to be very divisive. The heroes of one set of actors happen to be the villains of another. And one group’s history is considered as fiction by another. What is seen as the Golden Age of one group is portrayed as the dawn of the Dark Age for another. Even the depth of Ethiopian history is just as controversial. Does the history of contemporary Ethiopia uninterruptedly stretch back for several millennia or is it only a little over a century long?

Why is the history of other African countries rarely as controversial? Perhaps this could be due to the fact that the powers that created the other African countries packed up and left after independence. In Ethiopia, however, the state was created by indigenous actors and the society from which the creators of the contemporary state were home-grown and have had nowhere else to go. And, as in any other processes of state formation, armed conquest was involved in bringing present-day Ethiopia into existence. But unlike other democratic countries, where the initial act of coercion by force was ultimately replaced by voluntary consent, force still remains the factor holding Ethiopia’s disparate cultural/linguistic societies together. As the result, when and how Ethiopia was put together still remains the subject of an emotive debate. The politicization of the reading and interpretation and re-interpretation of Ethiopian history thus still rubs raw nerves. This has the implication of rendering the historicization of politics in Ethiopia inevitable. Consequently, political stands tend to be backed with a specific interpretation of past history. When politics should rather be about solving problems facing today’s and tomorrow’s generations! Unless a way is found around this mutual politicization of history and the historicization of politics, imagining and realizing a common democratic future will thus remain unattainable.

Finding a way around this burden of Ethiopian history that stands in the way of imagining and articulating a common democratic future is way beyond the scope of this very brief writing. Instead, what will be attempted is proposing a few approaches on how to stem the obstacle posed by differing readings and interpretations of Ethiopia’s history. Even this modest attempt has a lot of dangerous, risky and controversial implications.

First, is it perhaps possible to agree that there is no such thing as the clinical and absolutely objective writing of history? Hence, the work of even the most refined professional historians is inevitably influenced by their biased preferences of some data, reading or perspective over others. Even research in such supposedly clinical subjects as physics, chemistry and other physical sciences is affected by preferential tapping of data and paradigms. This results from the fact that understanding any objective reality involves some degree of abstraction. A society’s means of understanding its past does not stand still: it continues to evolve, on account of the advent of new technology, and changes in philosophical perspectives and social tastes and sensitivities, necessitating a rereading and re-interpretation of the past. In addition, the archival material normally cited by historians is itself produced by contemporary chroniclers with their own biases—some selected in and many others left out. Hence, treating any history as Gospel truth should be approached with the utmost care.

Second, can we agree that the notion of “people without history” is not only wrong and unjust but also serves as the rationale for the commission of injustice? Every society has a past although maybe its ancestors did not have a literate culture to document it in writing. Hence, the history of the world should ideally be the sum total of the histories of all humans. Likewise, the history of a particular country should be the sum total of the histories of all sectors of its population.

Third, the literature which serves as the source for writing history is often assembled by individuals belonging to the dominant sector. This, hence, stamps history with a bias favouring the victor when documenting a particular process of state formation. History speaks in the commanding voice of the victor and mutes out the faint voices of the vanquished. The situation and suffering of the victim is rarely even mentioned. This has an inevitable implication. History written based on such a biased documentation ends up humiliating the descendants of those victims. Such was the history of Ethiopia that motivated some groups to develop a thirst for a kind of history differing from the one officially taught in schools. The end result was the politicization of Ethiopian history mentioned above. If we really want to end this, the state and state organs ought to favour the history of Ethiopia that reflects the role of all communities, which history should be taught in schools. This requires accepting that all communities have played a role in shaping contemporary Ethiopia.

Fourth, can we agree that there is no such thing as a completely blameless society? Every society has committed aggression against one or another of its neighbours at some times while finding itself at the receiving end of aggression by one or another of its neighbours at another time.

Finally, none of us chose the family/society into which we were born nor the particular locality or country where we were born. As individuals, we have the choice of moving to another country and of changing our citizenship. The society into which we were born, however, cannot exercise this option. Its only option is finding a way to peacefully live with its dignity upheld with the other societies thrown together to shape the population of the country. The focus of the effort of Ethiopia’s political movements should be working out the terms that allow such a dignified and peaceful coexistence among all the cultural/linguistic communities composing the Ethiopian population.

Proposal: Hence, can we agree to live with differing readings and interpretations of Ethiopia’s history on one condition? That it should not permanently demonize and criminalize a particular sector of the Ethiopian population, exclude any other from being part of the state, or deny that injustice was ever committed. Otherwise, our divergent reading and interpretation of Ethiopian history would permanently stand in the way of realizing a common democratic future.

  1. THE RIGHT TO SELF-DETERMINATION

One of the most controversial and unavoidable issues in jointly seeking and charting a common democratic future concerns the invocation of the right of self-determination by marginalized groups, including the Oromo, who otherwise make up close to half of the country’s population. Returning to the debate surrounding this issue is not promising because contrasting stands have congealed. Instead, we should focus on the right to self-identification, without which self-determination or any other political project is impossible. Hence we start by addressing the controversial nature of self-identification because it is another matter standing in the way of forging a common democratic future in Ethiopia. This is yet another factor that sets apart Ethiopian politics from that of other countries, at least in Africa. This kind of controversy is almost non-existent elsewhere in Africa where individuals freely identify themselves either as members of their ethnic community or citizens of their country depending on the context. In Ethiopia, however, controversy rages over whether individuals first and foremost refer to themselves as Oromo, Amhara, Sidama, Afar, Guraghe, Somali, Tigrean, Anyuak, etc. or strictly as Ethiopians.

Delving into this topic runs the risk of just contributing to the presently raging controversy instead of defusing it. A volume can be written on the topic and yet fail to suggest a way around it. The aim of this brief writing is to suggest a number of simple principles that could point to a way to how to defuse this raging controversy.

First, can we agree that the right to self-identification is a fundamental human right that belongs to the self concerned and to no one else? Stripping individuals of this right amounts to violating their humanity. It is like treating them as objects instead of conscious subjects. Whoever says to individuals “you are allowed to call yourself only A and not B” is exercising supremacy. Such a designator is also asserting ownership of the designated. Those exercising this type of supremacy by appropriating the others’ right to self-identification are in the position to also change their mind and say “from now on you can only identify yourself as X and not Y.” As the result, those whose right to self-identification has been appropriated in this manner are forced to lead a precarious life always questioning how they will be designated next.

Second, can we agree that the right to self-identification is a fundamental democratic right in the absence of which it is impossible to organize for any common purpose: political, social, cultural, religious, etc.? Individuals have to identify themselves as workers, women, members of cultural/linguistic community, etc. in order to organize to pursue a common objective. Restricting this right in any manner would ultimately lead to curtailing the right to assembly and organization. After all, the human being is fundamentally a social creature.

Third, can we agree that self-identification can be invoked in a multiple and contextual manner? Individuals can identify themselves as workers in one context. And as women at other times. And as women workers in yet another context, in which self-identification both as worker and woman is invoked. Likewise, why is it not possible for individuals to identify themselves as Oromo in one situation and as Oromo Ethiopians under another?

The answer is quite simple. Until recently being an Oromo was officially portrayed as antithetical to being an Ethiopian. This mentality is still reflected in the discourse of a vocal sector of Ethiopia’s elite. It is this mentality that drove some Oromo activists to articulate being an Oromo as antithetical to being an Ethiopian. Rejecting those who reject you is a natural human reaction. If at some time the dominant system denied Oromo identity as part of Ethiopian identity or tried to eliminate its traditions or discourage the use of its language through various means, one should not be surprised if those at the other end thought the same, and tried to assert the right denied. The only way to resolve this problem is by accepting that being an Oromo and an Ethiopian is not mutually exclusive and is indeed possible.

Fourth, can we agree that the right to self-identification can be invoked to serve constructive or destructive purposes? When this right is invoked to attack and belittle others, it definitely serves a destructive purpose. When it is invoked to seek justice for oneself as human beings, however, it plays a constructive role. Struggling for justice for the self should not amount to denying justice to others. And when it does, a red line has been crossed and should be corrected. Only when such a red line is crossed is the right to self-identification serving a negative purpose.

  1. HOW TO INSTITUTE INCLUSIVE CHANGE

Ethiopia has undergone several incidents of tumultuous change during the past half century. There is one thing common to all these incidents of change. A particular group or even an individual ultimately monopolized the political space subsequent to the change that unfolded. Some of these changes started with widespread societal participation. This was the case especially with the process that brought the imperial era to an end. But soon after the imperial regime was unseated, various rival groups fought each other with the aim of monopolizing Ethiopia’s political space. This rivalry pitted against each other several nascent parties that claimed Marxism-Leninism as their ideology, and pioneered the practice of the “Red Terror” in order to self-righteously liquidate members of their opponents. The military clique simply appropriated this practice and employed it to demolish the rival civilian parties. Meanwhile, several processes of liquidation occurred within the junta at the end of which one officer managed to monopolize the political space.

When the military regime was overthrown in May 1991, the incoming EPRDF signalled its willingness to share political space with other movements by inviting them to join the Transitional Government. Within a few months, however, more and more of these non-EPRDF organizations were either systematically eased out or left the Transitional Government out of frustration. The course was set thereafter ultimately culminating in the monopolization of the political space in Ethiopia by the EPRDF. In the course of the following decade, the same process unfolded within the EPRDF, and one person eventually monopolized the political space, until his natural death.

We cannot change how these previous processes of change unfolded. But we can, and have to, identify and deal with the mentality that made the monopolization of political space inevitable in both instances. Otherwise, we will remain stuck in the vicious cycle of witnessing groups and individuals replacing each other as the monopoly holders of the political space. In undemocratic systems, monopolizing political space enables monopolizing the economic and other spheres as well.

First, these recurrent monopolizations of political space resulted from the mentality of “winners take all.” Not only that, the winning party is determined to indefinitely keep its gains. This means that losers lose everything and permanently. As the result, the losers have no stake whatsoever in the incumbent order. This drives the opposition not to acknowledge anything worthwhile in the policies and practices of the incumbent ruler. Neither does the incumbent acknowledge anything positive in the policy proposals of the opposition. In fact those in power view opposition to the regime as criminal. Change stemming from these mutually confrontational stands can have no other outcome but zero-sum.

Second, the feeling of self-righteousness slips in to further complicate this already complicated political contest. Each party portrays an absolute conviction that its stand, and only its stand, can serve the interest of the country or the people which it purports to represent. This often extends to the effort of trying to make the rule of the incumbent coterminous with that of not only the administration but also the Ethiopian state. As the result, successive rulers have done everything possible to wrap the state around themselves in order to signal that any threat directed against them is also a threat to the survival of the Ethiopian state itself. The country is currently on the verge of a frightening possibility due to this mentality.

Third, differentiating the state and government, which has never happened in Ethiopia to date, becomes well-nigh impossible so long as this mentality prevails. The bureaucracy, the military, police, the judicial system, etc. are believed to belong to the incumbent and to promote strictly its interests under this dispensation. Even the Constitution is believed to be an instrument tailored to reflect and enforce the vision and interests of strictly the incumbent ruler. Consequently, all these pillars of state institutions have undergone significant overhauls after each incident of change to date.

Demolishing these institutions and starting all over again after each incident of change is a very expensive undertaking in a country as impoverished as Ethiopia. It is also wrong because all forms of administration have positive and negative aspects. And positive aspects can be preserved and refined while removing the obviously negative ones. This requires both the incumbent and opposition agreeing on a couple of matters. The incumbent rulers should acknowledge that their policies and practices are not perfect by admitting that they are fallible human beings. The opposition should likewise acknowledge that not all the policies and practices of the incumbent stem from its diabolical intentions but also from burning question at the time it rose to power. And any policies and structures instituted by the incumbent to accommodate historically-rooted demands need to be preserved. So long as this kind of mentality replaces the one prevailing until now, both the defenders of the status quo and agents of change will have something in common.

Our proposal, hence, is a simple one: Those wanting to preserve the status quo can and should acknowledge that accepting some changes may serve such a purpose. And those seeking change should similarly acknowledge that preserving the positive aspects of the status quo could ease such a process.

  1. SYSTEMIC CHALLENGES

We, members of the opposition, love to hold the ruling party responsible for all of Ethiopia’s predicaments. Doing so may be politic but we should not mislead ourselves by our own rhetoric. This does not mean to exonerate the ruling party from its responsibility for the current crisis and debacle in which its security forces are turning the country into a bloodbath and one huge prison. There are undoubtedly problems introduced by the present rulers. There are others that they inherited and exacerbated instead of defusing. And there are still others that are beyond the control of the present rulers regardless of their claim to be fully in control.

For example, climate change is truly becoming a problem defying even the most powerful countries. And in the Ethiopian context, this challenge is further compounded by the simultaneous depletion and pollution of natural resources and galloping population growth. This makes the prioritization of poverty alleviation higher than any other pursuit. The present rulers should be commended for putting development at the top of their priorities although whether they are genuinely and fairly implementing it could be debated. And any incoming regime must be prepared to refine and build on their efforts.

  1. TECHNICAL MATTERS

This Proposal has not addressed such technical issues of caretaker government and other transitional arrangements. These issues will be addressed in a separate proposal, to be shared with different stakeholders and developed collaboratively. This decision stems from our conviction that such matters are less controversial than the attitudinal and traditional mind-sets that stand in the way of imagining and realizing a common democratic future.

 

How Web Cams Helped Bring Down the Internet, Briefly

Time

Image result for internet down

In a world where we increasingly live and work in giant webs of internet connectivity—our computers and phones, not to mention cameras, thermostats, garage door openers, kitchen appliances and baby monitors are all now connected to the web, often by default—we find ourselves facing an uncomfortable new reality: How secure is the so-called Internet-of-Things?

That question is front and center in the wake of a massive cyber attack Oct. 21 that left millions of internet users unable to access roughly 1,200 websites, including Twitter, Reddit and Netflix for the better part of a day.

While the attack did cause some economic damage, cybersecurity experts say the bigger issue is the way in which the hackers were able to pull off such a feat. They did it not only by co-opting zombie computers—the typical way that hackers push servers off-line—but by leveraging “tens of millions” of addresses on insecure, internet-connected devices that had been infected with malicious software code, according to Kyle York, the chief strategy officer at Dynamic Network Services Inc., the company that came under attack.

“The obvious point that we learned from last week’s attack is that the Internet of Things has made the threat of a denial-of-service attack more potent than ever before,” Timothy Edgar, a director of law and policy at Brown University’s cybersecurity program, told TIME.

Here’s how it worked.

On Friday morning, hackers launched a massive distributed denial-of-service, or DDOS, attack on a domain-name system called Dynamic Network Services Inc., or Dyn., which serves a crucial role in the Internet infrastructure. A domain name system translates what you type into a URL—”Twitter.com,” say—into the appropriate, numerical IP address and directs you to where you want to go.

In a typical DDOS attack, hackers take over virus-infected computers, known collectively as a “botnet,” and command them to send large numbers of requests, or “garbage packets,” to a server with the intention of overwhelming it—making it impossible for legitimate users to access it as needed.

What made the attack on Friday exceptional, and exceptionally scary for cyber researchers, is that the hackers used not only virus-infected computers, but hundreds of tens or hundreds of internet-connected devices—namely, certain types of security cameras and DVR players—that we don’t really think of as “computers” in the first place. XiongMai Technologies, a Chinese company that manufactures some of the webcams used in the attack, announced Monday that it would recall some of its products.

But such recalls aren’t going to do much at a time when literally millions of new, internet-connected devices are being connected every day, Edgar said. “There are millions and millions of cameras out there on the shelves and in people’s homes and there’s no security on them,” he said. “Going back and making sure that each of these cameras have better security isn’t really possible—it’s a depressing thought.”

According to a 2015 report by the information technology research company Gartner, there are now roughly 6.4 billion internet-connected things worldwide, from smart watches to smart refrigerators to smart web cams. By 2020, Gartner expects that number to bounce to 20.8 billion. That means that even if a relatively small portion of those devices are infected with malware and commandeered in a DDOS attack like the one Friday, hackers could an extraordinary amount of damage either the U.S. economy or, potentially, to national security.

“This particular attack disrupted key services that are a part of people’s daily lives, but no lives were lost,” Chris Petersen, a co-founder of the security analytics firm LogRhythm, told TIME. But, he added, it’s not hard to imagine a scenario in which hackers utilized this same army of devices to disrupt other key services, like hospitals or physical infrastructure projects. “This attack just proves that an attack of this nature could be easily realized,” he said.

Just two weeks before Election Day, cybersecurity experts have, for example, raised the specter that hackers, possible operating on behalf of a nation state, like Russia or China, could plan a similar attack to compromise state and county election websites, which voters rely on to access information about their registration or where their polling places are. Since no voting machines in the U.S. are connected to the internet, it would be extremely difficult for hackers to undermine the actual act of voting, but they could fairly easily succeed in creating the impression that the election had been compromised in some way.

“The possibility of hacking the vote-counting process is quite difficult,” said Edgar. “But the goal is causing chaos on Election Day? That’s pretty simple.”

A large part of the problem is that internet-connected device makers currently do almost nothing to protect their products from cybersecurity threats, Mike Raggo, the chief research officer at the security firm ZeroFOX, which focuses on social media platforms, told TIME. “Manufacturers want you to be able to plug it in and it’s ready to go,” he said. “So most of these devices have a default password, default configuration, default login.” That makes it easy to plug-and-play, but it also makes these devices very vulnerable to attack.

According to Network World, the hackers on Friday used only about 10 to 20% of all the 500,000 or so devices known to be infected with a particular malicious code, known as Mirai, which means that the DDOS attack could easily have been five to ten times larger than what it actually was. “There’s a lot of dry gunpowder left in terms of compromised IoT devices,” Petersen warned.

Consumers can protect themselves to some degree by keeping the software on their devices up to date, changing the default password if its possible, or—for the more sophisticated consumer—hardening up other parts of a home network, said Scott Radcliffe, a former military officer and vice president at FleishmanHillard, where he works on cybersecurity issues. “But it’s a problem of getting the message out. It’s just not intuitive that we have to worry about security on all of these new things.”

On Monday, Homeland Security Secretary Jeh Johnson told Politico that his department is working with law enforcement officials and the private sector to produce a strategic plan “in the coming weeks” to guard against similar attacks in the future.

There are currently no state or federal regulations in the U.S. that require even basic cybersecurity protocols on internet-connected devices and appliances. It’s a scenario that creates a vacuum of responsibility, Edgar said.

“You can say, let’s hold manufacturers liable for damaged caused by insecure IoT devices, but how would you do that?” he said, explaining that DDOS attacks can involve hundreds of thousands or millions of devices made by dozens of different manufacturers. “If you’re looking at it from the point of the view of a law firm, how do you define the damage, find plaintiffs and defendants?”

Edgar and others suggest that perhaps the time has come for the government to step in. “There’s a big fear in the high tech community that government regulation is going to kill the goose that laid the golden egg by telling tech companies how to make their devices,” he said, but added that regulations can establish security benchmarks without being prescriptive.

“Look, I’m an entrepreneur,” said Petersen. “I am certainly not someone who wants to see more regulation from a business standpoint. But when I put on my cybersecurity hat and I look at the realities of what is going to protect our nation from devastating cyber serucity attacks, I don’t see much of an alternative except to regulate.”

How Web Cams Helped Bring Down the Internet, Briefly

Time

Image result for internet down

In a world where we increasingly live and work in giant webs of internet connectivity—our computers and phones, not to mention cameras, thermostats, garage door openers, kitchen appliances and baby monitors are all now connected to the web, often by default—we find ourselves facing an uncomfortable new reality: How secure is the so-called Internet-of-Things?

That question is front and center in the wake of a massive cyber attack Oct. 21 that left millions of internet users unable to access roughly 1,200 websites, including Twitter, Reddit and Netflix for the better part of a day.

While the attack did cause some economic damage, cybersecurity experts say the bigger issue is the way in which the hackers were able to pull off such a feat. They did it not only by co-opting zombie computers—the typical way that hackers push servers off-line—but by leveraging “tens of millions” of addresses on insecure, internet-connected devices that had been infected with malicious software code, according to Kyle York, the chief strategy officer at Dynamic Network Services Inc., the company that came under attack.

“The obvious point that we learned from last week’s attack is that the Internet of Things has made the threat of a denial-of-service attack more potent than ever before,” Timothy Edgar, a director of law and policy at Brown University’s cybersecurity program, told TIME.

Here’s how it worked.

On Friday morning, hackers launched a massive distributed denial-of-service, or DDOS, attack on a domain-name system called Dynamic Network Services Inc., or Dyn., which serves a crucial role in the Internet infrastructure. A domain name system translates what you type into a URL—”Twitter.com,” say—into the appropriate, numerical IP address and directs you to where you want to go.

In a typical DDOS attack, hackers take over virus-infected computers, known collectively as a “botnet,” and command them to send large numbers of requests, or “garbage packets,” to a server with the intention of overwhelming it—making it impossible for legitimate users to access it as needed.

What made the attack on Friday exceptional, and exceptionally scary for cyber researchers, is that the hackers used not only virus-infected computers, but hundreds of tens or hundreds of internet-connected devices—namely, certain types of security cameras and DVR players—that we don’t really think of as “computers” in the first place. XiongMai Technologies, a Chinese company that manufactures some of the webcams used in the attack, announced Monday that it would recall some of its products.

But such recalls aren’t going to do much at a time when literally millions of new, internet-connected devices are being connected every day, Edgar said. “There are millions and millions of cameras out there on the shelves and in people’s homes and there’s no security on them,” he said. “Going back and making sure that each of these cameras have better security isn’t really possible—it’s a depressing thought.”

According to a 2015 report by the information technology research company Gartner, there are now roughly 6.4 billion internet-connected things worldwide, from smart watches to smart refrigerators to smart web cams. By 2020, Gartner expects that number to bounce to 20.8 billion. That means that even if a relatively small portion of those devices are infected with malware and commandeered in a DDOS attack like the one Friday, hackers could an extraordinary amount of damage either the U.S. economy or, potentially, to national security.

“This particular attack disrupted key services that are a part of people’s daily lives, but no lives were lost,” Chris Petersen, a co-founder of the security analytics firm LogRhythm, told TIME. But, he added, it’s not hard to imagine a scenario in which hackers utilized this same army of devices to disrupt other key services, like hospitals or physical infrastructure projects. “This attack just proves that an attack of this nature could be easily realized,” he said.

Just two weeks before Election Day, cybersecurity experts have, for example, raised the specter that hackers, possible operating on behalf of a nation state, like Russia or China, could plan a similar attack to compromise state and county election websites, which voters rely on to access information about their registration or where their polling places are. Since no voting machines in the U.S. are connected to the internet, it would be extremely difficult for hackers to undermine the actual act of voting, but they could fairly easily succeed in creating the impression that the election had been compromised in some way.

“The possibility of hacking the vote-counting process is quite difficult,” said Edgar. “But the goal is causing chaos on Election Day? That’s pretty simple.”

A large part of the problem is that internet-connected device makers currently do almost nothing to protect their products from cybersecurity threats, Mike Raggo, the chief research officer at the security firm ZeroFOX, which focuses on social media platforms, told TIME. “Manufacturers want you to be able to plug it in and it’s ready to go,” he said. “So most of these devices have a default password, default configuration, default login.” That makes it easy to plug-and-play, but it also makes these devices very vulnerable to attack.

According to Network World, the hackers on Friday used only about 10 to 20% of all the 500,000 or so devices known to be infected with a particular malicious code, known as Mirai, which means that the DDOS attack could easily have been five to ten times larger than what it actually was. “There’s a lot of dry gunpowder left in terms of compromised IoT devices,” Petersen warned.

Consumers can protect themselves to some degree by keeping the software on their devices up to date, changing the default password if its possible, or—for the more sophisticated consumer—hardening up other parts of a home network, said Scott Radcliffe, a former military officer and vice president at FleishmanHillard, where he works on cybersecurity issues. “But it’s a problem of getting the message out. It’s just not intuitive that we have to worry about security on all of these new things.”

On Monday, Homeland Security Secretary Jeh Johnson told Politico that his department is working with law enforcement officials and the private sector to produce a strategic plan “in the coming weeks” to guard against similar attacks in the future.

There are currently no state or federal regulations in the U.S. that require even basic cybersecurity protocols on internet-connected devices and appliances. It’s a scenario that creates a vacuum of responsibility, Edgar said.

“You can say, let’s hold manufacturers liable for damaged caused by insecure IoT devices, but how would you do that?” he said, explaining that DDOS attacks can involve hundreds of thousands or millions of devices made by dozens of different manufacturers. “If you’re looking at it from the point of the view of a law firm, how do you define the damage, find plaintiffs and defendants?”

Edgar and others suggest that perhaps the time has come for the government to step in. “There’s a big fear in the high tech community that government regulation is going to kill the goose that laid the golden egg by telling tech companies how to make their devices,” he said, but added that regulations can establish security benchmarks without being prescriptive.

“Look, I’m an entrepreneur,” said Petersen. “I am certainly not someone who wants to see more regulation from a business standpoint. But when I put on my cybersecurity hat and I look at the realities of what is going to protect our nation from devastating cyber serucity attacks, I don’t see much of an alternative except to regulate.”

IS International Criminal Court Too Focused on Africa?

By 

The new South Africa has been a bastion of respect for human rights, and its decision to withdraw from the International Criminal Court is a sign that something is terribly wrong with the tribunal. And it’s no secret: Since 2005, when it first issued arrest warrants, the court has indicted 39 people, every one of them African.

There are various explanations for this, some of them defensible. But the bottom line is that it was an inexcusable mistake for the court not to pursue other cases. It wouldn’t have been tokenism, because there are, unfortunately, plenty of non-African war criminals. Yet even if it were, the tokenism would have been justified to show that the court is more than the imperialist agent of regime change that many Africans consider it.

International Criminal Court

South Africa’s unexpected — and devastating — decision last weekto withdraw from the court is not based on any immediate fear that South African leaders would be prosecuted. In that sense, the decision differs sharply from that of Burundi, which was the first nation to initiate withdrawal, just a few days before the South African announcement.

Burundi’s motivation was the prospect of an ICC investigation of the political violence that has plagued the country in the last year, since President Pierre Nkurunziza declared his intention of running for a third term. Of 110 Burundian lawmakers, 94 had voted for the withdrawal, suggesting, if nothing else, consolidation of the political class against the possibility of an investigation that would probably have focused on the president himself.

It’s not terribly surprising that a president in that position would seek to avoid the ICCs jurisdiction by withdrawing. It’s much more surprising that a stable democracy like South Africa, which has a range of international obligations written into its state-of-the-art constitution, would send such a strong message of rejection.

The South African minister of justice, Michael Masutha, offered the explanation that South Africa considered the obligation to turn over foreign diplomats charged by the court to be a violation of its domestic laws that guarantee diplomatic immunity. In June 2015, the South African government failed to turn over Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir, who was visiting for an African Union summit, even after a South African court ordered it to do so.

But the minister’s formalistic explanation rings hollow. South Africa’s constitution incorporates international legal obligations into domestic law, and would certainly be interpreted by South Africa’s progressive courts to trump any domestic requirements of diplomatic immunity.

What makes more sense is that the South African government is consolidating its position of regional and continental leadership by taking a stance that is sure to please other African heads of state. It’s precisely those heads of state who are most vulnerable to ICC prosecution. By weakening the court — and providing thick cover for any other African countries that wish to follow suit — South Africa is giving those leaders a tremendous diplomatic gift.

In other words, the statement that South Africa wants to respect the diplomatic immunity of other heads of state is a way of saying that South Africa wants to do business with African leaders.

The ICC worries African heads of state because it has adopted a prosecutorial policy of going after leaders whom it accuses of being responsible for political violence in violation of international law. Targeting a head of state or government is an attractive and admirable idea for an international body committed to enforcing human rights. In the case of authoritarian or autocratic governments, the leader often does bear moral responsibility for violence. And it would be deeply dissatisfying for an international criminal court to prosecute primarily lower officials who may have committed crimes but did not plan or direct them.

If the court is going to go after government leaders, however, it must confront the concern that, as South Africa’s Masutha put it, it is producing a “scenario of forced regime change by one country on another.” When the prosecution comes from a European geographical base and a court staffed mostly by non-Africans, the regime change has the further feature of seeming “imperialist,” the word used by the chief party whip of South Africa’s ruling African National Congress.

The simple solution for the ICC would have been to prosecute some — any — non-Africans. It’s not like the problem hasn’t been noticed. The ICC itself has held an online symposium of invited experts on what it rather delicately called “the Africa question.”

It must been noted in the ICC’s defense that six African cases brought to it from outside, four by the countries where the violations had occurred and two by reference from the United Nations Security Council. The first four were nondiscretionary, meaning the court had to investigate under its own rules. And in the other two, Sudan and Libya, there were strong grounds to commence investigation.

But that excuse explains why the court has pursued the cases it has — not why it hasn’t pursued others. Admittedly complex rules govern the court’s reach, and it can’t proceed where there are adequate domestic legal processes under way.

Nonetheless, the court’s prosecutors needed to reach more broadly. Initial investigations of cases involving Afghanistan, Colombia, Georgia, Honduras and South Korea could have proceeded more rapidly. The idea that Iraq would be free of crimes against humanity or that the Iraqi legal system could adequately treat them seems highly implausible on its face.

The lesson here is that tokenism isn’t always a bad thing. When it comes to demonstrating the legitimacy of a new and powerful international legal entity, a basic requirement is not only to be balanced but also to appear so.

South Africa’s decision is unfortunate, but the ICC opened the door, and it deserves the primary blame. The court in The Hague stands for the admirable aspiration to hold the worst criminals in the world responsible for their wrongs. But trying to achieve that ideal without pragmatic realism about what seems fair in international politics is a hopeless task.

  1. South Africa’s constitutional court was supposed to hold hearings on this issue in November, but the government will now drop its appeal.

This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.

To contact the author of this story:
Noah Feldman at nfeldman7@bloomberg.net

To contact the editor responsible for this story:
Stacey Shick at sshick@bloomberg.net

IS International Criminal Court Too Focused on Africa?

By 

The new South Africa has been a bastion of respect for human rights, and its decision to withdraw from the International Criminal Court is a sign that something is terribly wrong with the tribunal. And it’s no secret: Since 2005, when it first issued arrest warrants, the court has indicted 39 people, every one of them African.

There are various explanations for this, some of them defensible. But the bottom line is that it was an inexcusable mistake for the court not to pursue other cases. It wouldn’t have been tokenism, because there are, unfortunately, plenty of non-African war criminals. Yet even if it were, the tokenism would have been justified to show that the court is more than the imperialist agent of regime change that many Africans consider it.

International Criminal Court

South Africa’s unexpected — and devastating — decision last weekto withdraw from the court is not based on any immediate fear that South African leaders would be prosecuted. In that sense, the decision differs sharply from that of Burundi, which was the first nation to initiate withdrawal, just a few days before the South African announcement.

Burundi’s motivation was the prospect of an ICC investigation of the political violence that has plagued the country in the last year, since President Pierre Nkurunziza declared his intention of running for a third term. Of 110 Burundian lawmakers, 94 had voted for the withdrawal, suggesting, if nothing else, consolidation of the political class against the possibility of an investigation that would probably have focused on the president himself.

It’s not terribly surprising that a president in that position would seek to avoid the ICCs jurisdiction by withdrawing. It’s much more surprising that a stable democracy like South Africa, which has a range of international obligations written into its state-of-the-art constitution, would send such a strong message of rejection.

The South African minister of justice, Michael Masutha, offered the explanation that South Africa considered the obligation to turn over foreign diplomats charged by the court to be a violation of its domestic laws that guarantee diplomatic immunity. In June 2015, the South African government failed to turn over Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir, who was visiting for an African Union summit, even after a South African court ordered it to do so.

But the minister’s formalistic explanation rings hollow. South Africa’s constitution incorporates international legal obligations into domestic law, and would certainly be interpreted by South Africa’s progressive courts to trump any domestic requirements of diplomatic immunity.

What makes more sense is that the South African government is consolidating its position of regional and continental leadership by taking a stance that is sure to please other African heads of state. It’s precisely those heads of state who are most vulnerable to ICC prosecution. By weakening the court — and providing thick cover for any other African countries that wish to follow suit — South Africa is giving those leaders a tremendous diplomatic gift.

In other words, the statement that South Africa wants to respect the diplomatic immunity of other heads of state is a way of saying that South Africa wants to do business with African leaders.

The ICC worries African heads of state because it has adopted a prosecutorial policy of going after leaders whom it accuses of being responsible for political violence in violation of international law. Targeting a head of state or government is an attractive and admirable idea for an international body committed to enforcing human rights. In the case of authoritarian or autocratic governments, the leader often does bear moral responsibility for violence. And it would be deeply dissatisfying for an international criminal court to prosecute primarily lower officials who may have committed crimes but did not plan or direct them.

If the court is going to go after government leaders, however, it must confront the concern that, as South Africa’s Masutha put it, it is producing a “scenario of forced regime change by one country on another.” When the prosecution comes from a European geographical base and a court staffed mostly by non-Africans, the regime change has the further feature of seeming “imperialist,” the word used by the chief party whip of South Africa’s ruling African National Congress.

The simple solution for the ICC would have been to prosecute some — any — non-Africans. It’s not like the problem hasn’t been noticed. The ICC itself has held an online symposium of invited experts on what it rather delicately called “the Africa question.”

It must been noted in the ICC’s defense that six African cases brought to it from outside, four by the countries where the violations had occurred and two by reference from the United Nations Security Council. The first four were nondiscretionary, meaning the court had to investigate under its own rules. And in the other two, Sudan and Libya, there were strong grounds to commence investigation.

But that excuse explains why the court has pursued the cases it has — not why it hasn’t pursued others. Admittedly complex rules govern the court’s reach, and it can’t proceed where there are adequate domestic legal processes under way.

Nonetheless, the court’s prosecutors needed to reach more broadly. Initial investigations of cases involving Afghanistan, Colombia, Georgia, Honduras and South Korea could have proceeded more rapidly. The idea that Iraq would be free of crimes against humanity or that the Iraqi legal system could adequately treat them seems highly implausible on its face.

The lesson here is that tokenism isn’t always a bad thing. When it comes to demonstrating the legitimacy of a new and powerful international legal entity, a basic requirement is not only to be balanced but also to appear so.

South Africa’s decision is unfortunate, but the ICC opened the door, and it deserves the primary blame. The court in The Hague stands for the admirable aspiration to hold the worst criminals in the world responsible for their wrongs. But trying to achieve that ideal without pragmatic realism about what seems fair in international politics is a hopeless task.

  1. South Africa’s constitutional court was supposed to hold hearings on this issue in November, but the government will now drop its appeal.

This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.

To contact the author of this story:
Noah Feldman at nfeldman7@bloomberg.net

To contact the editor responsible for this story:
Stacey Shick at sshick@bloomberg.net

Why African states have started leaving the ICC

FILE – In this Monday, Jan. 6, 2014 file photo, Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir speaks after meeting with South Sudan’s President Salva Kiir, in the capital Juba, South Sudan. (AP Photo/Ali Ngethi, File)FILE – In this Monday, Jan. 6, 2014 file photo, Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir speaks after meeting with South Sudan’s President Salva Kiir, in the capital Juba, South Sudan. South Africa has decided to withdraw… (AP Photo/Ali Ngethi, File) 

JOHANNESBURG (AP) — Until this week, no country had withdrawn from the International Criminal Court. Now two African states, South Africa and Burundi, have made official decisions to leave. Concerns are high that more African countries now will act on years of threats to pull out amid accusations that the court unfairly focuses on the continent. Here’s a look at what it all means.

SOMEONE TO TAKE ON GENOCIDE

Many in the international community cheered when the treaty to create the ICC, the Rome Statute, was adopted in 1998 as a way to pursue some of the world’s worst atrocities: genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity. Not all countries signed on, and before this week’s decisions by Burundi and South Africa, the treaty had 124 states parties. Notable countries that have not become states parties include the United States, China, Russia and India. Some countries are wary of The Hague, Netherlands-based court’s powers, seeing it as potential interference.

THE TRAVELS OF AL-BASHIR

Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir has become a symbol of the limitations facing the ICC, which does not have a police force and relies on the cooperation of member states. Al-Bashir has been wanted by the tribunal for alleged genocide and other crimes in Sudan’s Darfur region after the U.N. Security Council first referred the case to the ICC in 2005. Since then, however, al-Bashir has visited a number of ICC member states, including Malawi, Kenya, Chad and Congo. His visit to South Africa in June 2015 caused uproar, and he quickly left as a court there ordered his arrest. The ICC has no power to compel countries to arrest people and can only tell them they have a legal obligation to do it.

___

AFRICAN FRUSTRATIONS, AND THREATS

Only Africans have been charged in the six ICC cases that are ongoing or about to begin, though preliminary ICC investigations have been opened elsewhere in the world, in places like Colombia and Afghanistan. One case that caused considerable anger among African leaders was the ICC’s pursuit of Kenyan President Uhuru Kenyatta for his alleged role in the deadly violence that erupted after his country’s 2007 presidential election. The case later collapsed amid prosecution claims of interference with witnesses and non-cooperation by Kenyan authorities. The African Union has called for immunity from prosecution for heads of state, and Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni at his inauguration in May — with al-Bashir in attendance — declared the ICC to be “useless.”

___

HEADING OUT

Burundi kicked off the ICC departures this month when lawmakers overwhelmingly voted to leave the tribunal, just months after the court announced it would investigate recent political violence there. President Pierre Nkurunziza signed the bill on Tuesday. Now South Africa is deciding to leave as well, saying that handing a leader over to the ICC would amount to interference in another country’s affairs. It’s a dramatic turnaround for a country that was an early supporter of the court’s creation in the years after South Africa emerged from white minority rule and near-global isolation. With one of Africa’s most developed countries now pulling out, observers are waiting to see whether more states follow.

Why African states have started leaving the ICC

FILE – In this Monday, Jan. 6, 2014 file photo, Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir speaks after meeting with South Sudan’s President Salva Kiir, in the capital Juba, South Sudan. (AP Photo/Ali Ngethi, File)FILE – In this Monday, Jan. 6, 2014 file photo, Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir speaks after meeting with South Sudan’s President Salva Kiir, in the capital Juba, South Sudan. South Africa has decided to withdraw… (AP Photo/Ali Ngethi, File) 

JOHANNESBURG (AP) — Until this week, no country had withdrawn from the International Criminal Court. Now two African states, South Africa and Burundi, have made official decisions to leave. Concerns are high that more African countries now will act on years of threats to pull out amid accusations that the court unfairly focuses on the continent. Here’s a look at what it all means.

SOMEONE TO TAKE ON GENOCIDE

Many in the international community cheered when the treaty to create the ICC, the Rome Statute, was adopted in 1998 as a way to pursue some of the world’s worst atrocities: genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity. Not all countries signed on, and before this week’s decisions by Burundi and South Africa, the treaty had 124 states parties. Notable countries that have not become states parties include the United States, China, Russia and India. Some countries are wary of The Hague, Netherlands-based court’s powers, seeing it as potential interference.

THE TRAVELS OF AL-BASHIR

Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir has become a symbol of the limitations facing the ICC, which does not have a police force and relies on the cooperation of member states. Al-Bashir has been wanted by the tribunal for alleged genocide and other crimes in Sudan’s Darfur region after the U.N. Security Council first referred the case to the ICC in 2005. Since then, however, al-Bashir has visited a number of ICC member states, including Malawi, Kenya, Chad and Congo. His visit to South Africa in June 2015 caused uproar, and he quickly left as a court there ordered his arrest. The ICC has no power to compel countries to arrest people and can only tell them they have a legal obligation to do it.

___

AFRICAN FRUSTRATIONS, AND THREATS

Only Africans have been charged in the six ICC cases that are ongoing or about to begin, though preliminary ICC investigations have been opened elsewhere in the world, in places like Colombia and Afghanistan. One case that caused considerable anger among African leaders was the ICC’s pursuit of Kenyan President Uhuru Kenyatta for his alleged role in the deadly violence that erupted after his country’s 2007 presidential election. The case later collapsed amid prosecution claims of interference with witnesses and non-cooperation by Kenyan authorities. The African Union has called for immunity from prosecution for heads of state, and Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni at his inauguration in May — with al-Bashir in attendance — declared the ICC to be “useless.”

___

HEADING OUT

Burundi kicked off the ICC departures this month when lawmakers overwhelmingly voted to leave the tribunal, just months after the court announced it would investigate recent political violence there. President Pierre Nkurunziza signed the bill on Tuesday. Now South Africa is deciding to leave as well, saying that handing a leader over to the ICC would amount to interference in another country’s affairs. It’s a dramatic turnaround for a country that was an early supporter of the court’s creation in the years after South Africa emerged from white minority rule and near-global isolation. With one of Africa’s most developed countries now pulling out, observers are waiting to see whether more states follow.

Ethiopia’s state of emergency: Angela Merkel urges protests to be allowed

Ethiopia's state of emergency: Angela Merkel urges protests to be allowed

“Egypt does not interfere in any country’s domestic affairs”, Egypt’s ambassador toEthiopia Abu Bakr Hefny told the East African country’s state minister for foreign affairs Taye Atske-Selassie, according to a statement issued on Sunday by the Egyptian ministry of foreign affairs.

Hailemariam said the state of emergency was effective from Oct.8.

Jiangsu Sunshine Group, a Chinese textiles company, demonstrated that confidence by signing a “final agreement” to invest $500 million over four years at a factory in an industrial park in Adama city in Oromia region, Fitsum said.

Getachew said the “extraordinary situation” demanded the state of emergency but insisted it did not amount to a “blanket ban on civilian life”.

The protests of Oromo citizens started in November 2015, when the government planned to expand the boundaries of the Ethiopian capital of Addis Ababa.

Rights advocate, Felix Horne, said as more people were killed in protests this year, the government should urgently change course to prevent more bloodshed.

Getachew Reda said the foreign elements are arming and financing opposition groups, but not necessarily with the formal backing of their governments.

The state of emergency allows the government to detain suspects without court authorization and also prohibits the distribution of material that is likely to incite more “chaos”, Reuters reported. The most recent protests started on October 2 after dozens of people died in clashes with government security forces during a holy festival celebrated by the country’s Oromo people.

Multiples sources told Sudan Tribune that protesters have so far attacked 11 factories, destroyed public and government properties since attacks in the region began. “They want total control on everything”, said Beyene Petros, chairman of the Medrek opposition coalition.

Protesters say violence by the security forces led to the stampede, but the PM denied security forces had opened fire.

The Oromo and the Amhara make up about 60% of the population.

Frustrations about mistreatment by central government have long festered in Oromiya and Amhara, where new industries and foreign flower farms have sprung up.

Since the protests by these two major ethnic groups broke out a year ago, the government has done little or nothing to attend to the yearnings of the Oromo and Amhara people. That’s where many in a massive crowd that had gathered to celebrate the annual Irreecha thanksgiving festival chanted slogans and crossed their fists over their heads, an increasingly familiar gesture that protests oppression and calls for more rights for the people of Oromia.

Revolutionary Islam and Regime Change in Ethiopia

With ethnic uprisings spreading across an Ethiopia now ruled by martial law there is only one nationally based organization in place to lead the eventual regime change in the country and that is the revolutionary Islamic movement.

Presently all the liberation resistance movements in Ethiopia are ethnically based with their senior leadership in exile, mainly in neighboring Eritrea. The only organization with a national presence is the revolutionary Islamic religious community, whose recently freed leaders have sworn to liberate Ethiopia from the western backed Tigrayan ethnic minority regime presently ruling the country.

The revolutionary Islamic community in Ethiopia has a nationwide network of mosques and religious schools, with very respected locally based leaders and can provide the only legal point of assembly in the country.

Just as in the Iranian revolution in the late 1970’s where the only place revolutionaries could gather without being attacked by the police is the mosques, especially for large gatherings for Friday Prayers, the Islamic community in Ethiopia can provide the only place for the opposition to meet especially now that any and all gatherings are banned under Martial Law and the State of Emergency.

The regimes Agazi death squads have shoot to kill orders and the only place of safety for meetings is in the mosques, though how long the regime will tolerate this is not certain.

Having attacked the Islamic community four years ago, gunning down many and locking up the recently released leadership, the Ethiopia regime may be planning on cracking down on Muslims in a new wave of terror.

The maxim is oppression breeds resistance and even the Washington Post’s Editorial Board knows this, having pointed out how martial law and an iron fist will only lead to further protests and the eventual explosion that will drive the regime into exile and leave Ethiopia without any leadership.

The ensuing power vacuum could see the revolutionary Islamic community taking leadership and bringing unity to Ethiopia, for even if the country is divided along ethnic lines all Muslims no matter what tribe worship together in their mosques.

Most Ethiopians are muslims and their religious practices for centuries past forbid them from discriminating by ethnicity when it comes to their worship. The very idea is foreign to the country.

And Ethiopia’s Muslims practice a very tolerant Sunni variant and have lived side by side with their Christian brothers and sisters for over a millennia, sitting together to break bread and even intermarrying. Thank god the wahabi virus has not yet taken root in the country.

Even the CIA via its execrable media front Freedom House a few months ago insinuated that regime change maybe necessary in Ethiopia and with the recent massacres and growing protests matters may come to a head more quickly than expected. It maybe sooner rather than later that revolutionary Islam finds itself leading regime change in Ethiopia.

Thomas C. Mountain attended Punahou School for six years some half a dozen years before “Barry O’Bombers” time there. He has been living and writing from Eritrea since 2006. He can be reached at thomascmountain at g_ mail_ dot _com

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AFTER BURUNDI, WHICH OTHER AFRICAN STATES COULD ABANDON THE ICC?

Burundian President Pierre Nkurunziza took another step towards becoming a global outlier on Tuesday.

The controversial leader signed a decree to quit the International Criminal Court (ICC), following a parliamentary vote to that effect earlier in October. The decree retracted Burundi’s participation in the Rome Statute, on which the court’s authority is founded. The Burundian presidency announced on Tuesday that it would come into immediate effect, although the Rome Statute states that any decision to withdraw becomes active a year after giving notice to the United Nations secretary general.

The move makes Burundi the first country ever to pull out of the court, which is based in The Hague and was established in 1998 to deal with high-level crimes, including genocide and crimes against humanity.

ICC chief prosecutor Fatou Bensouda opened a preliminary investigation into the situation in Burundi in April. Bensouda said she was investigating events since April 2015, when Nkurunziza announced his intention to run for a third term as president. The decision sparked widespread violence, a failed coup, and a brutal crackdown on opposition. The chief prosecutor said when opening the investigation that more than 430 people had been reportedly killed. More than 300,000 Burundians have also fled the country since the violence began, according to the U.N. Refugee Agency.

Protesters in Burundi run towards police lines.Protesters run towards police lines in Bujumbura, Burundi, May 4, 2015. Burundi plunged into conflict after President Pierre Nkurunziza announced his decision to run for a third term in April 2015.PHIL MOORE/AFP/GETTY IMAGES

The decision irked Nkurunziza, and the Burundian government has been further infuriated by a U.N. report in September that claimed to have verified 564 executions in Burundi since April 2015, mostly carried out by security forces on people perceived to be opposition supporters. The Burundian government rejected the report and has since banned three U.N. investigators from the country.

But while Burundi may be the first country to leave the ICC, it may not be the last. Other African leaders have also railed against a perceived bias in the court. All four of the suspects convicted for crimes against humanity and/or war crimes by the ICC are African—most recently Ahmad al-Faqi al-Mahdi , a Malian jihadi sentenced to nine years imprisonment in September for destroying historic shrines during the northern Mali uprising in 2012. Another, Congolese politician Jean-Pierre Bemba—sentenced to 18 years in prison in June for war crimes and crimes against humanity in Central African Republic—is appealing his sentence. All three of the court’s ongoing trials involve Africans, and nine of the 10 situations currently being investigated by the court prior to a possible trial involve African states.

So after Burundi, who could be next to abandon the ICC?

Sudan

The highest profile suspect on the ICC’s agenda is Omar al-Bashir, the Sudanese president. The court first issued an arrest warrant against Bashir in March 2009, the first time it had indicted a sitting head of state. Along with several other suspects, the ICC charged Bashir with being indirectly responsible for war crimes, crimes against humanity and genocide in Darfur. The conflict in Darfur, which began with a rebellion of ethnic Africans against the Arab-led government in 2003, is estimated to have killed hundreds of thousands, with Amnesty International alleging recently that government forces had used chemical weapons against civilians, something the Sudanese mission to the U.N. denied.

Omar al-BashirSudanese President Omar al-Bashir greets supporters upon his return from Ethiopia, Khartoum, July 30. Al-Bashir is wanted by the International Criminal Court for his role in the Darfur conflict.ASHRAF SHAZLY/AFP/GETTY IMAGES

Bashir has dismissed the charges against him and described the ICC as a “politicized tribunal” in April. Other African countries have appeared to disregard the ICC’s arrest warrant and welcome Bashir as a visitor. Most notably, Bashir went to South Africa in June 2015 for an AU conference and was allowed to leave freely, despite a South African court ruling that he should be detained.

Kenya

Besides Bashir, the court’s other high-profile suspects have included the current president and deputy president of Kenya, Uhuru Kenyatta and William Ruto. The court issued summonses for six prominent Kenyans in 2010, including Kenyatta and Ruto—then the deputy prime minister and minister of higher education respectively—on grounds of crimes against humanity allegedly committed during violence that followed Kenya’s elections in December 2007. More than 1,200 Kenyans were killed during two months of inter-ethnic violence following the vote, which was criticized as not free and fair by the international community.

Kenya's Deputy President William Ruto speaks at the Hague.Kenya’s Deputy President William Ruto addresses the media in the Hague, the Netherlands, on October 15, 2013. The ICC threw out the case against Ruto in April.PHIL NIJHUIS/FILES/REUTERS

The ICC prosecutors withdrew the charges against Kenyatta in December 2014, saying that the Kenyan government had refused to hand over vital evidence. The court also threw out the case against Ruto in April, but the decisions have not ended Kenyan animosity to the court. Kenya made a proposal at an AU summit in January for the continental body to “develop a roadmap for the withdrawal of African nations,” which received widespread support among other states party to the Rome Statute.

Uganda

Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni, one of the continent’s elder statesman, has been a vocal advocate for abandoning the Netherlands court. Following the withdrawal of the case against Kenyatta, the 72-year-old president—who has held power in Uganda since 1980—said that the ICC was a “tool to target” Africa by Western leaders. Museveni pledged to bring a proposal to leave the institution. “Then they can be left alone with their court,” he said in December 2014. The mass withdrawal of African countries would leave the ICC diminished—34 of the countries party to the Rome Statute are African, the largest continental bloc out of a total of 124 states.

Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni.Uganda’s President Yoweri Museveni is pictured at his inauguration ceremony in Kampala, May 12. Museveni has long been a critic of the ICC.EDWARD ECHWALU/REUTERS

While he has not been successful in his mission so far, Museveni prompted outrage among Western diplomats by branding the court “useless” in May, during his inauguration for a fifth consecutive term as president. The statement prompted officials from the European Union, United States and Canada to walk out of the ceremony.