بادئ بدء أود ان أقول ان كثيرا من المشاكل التي تهدد السلام في العالم اليوم قد تمخضت إلى حد بعيد من تحريف التاريخ والأساءة في تفسير احداث الماضي عمدا لتحقيق وضمان أهداف السيطرة السياسية والعسكريةعلى الشعوب المقهورة Continue reading “إلى متى يستمر التلاعب بالتاريخ وخلط الأوراق على حساب الشعوب ؟”
Author: Hadi Kanku
Waan tare maal dhiifnee, maal kassuu barbaachisa?
Eega adda blisummaa ummata/toota Itoophiyaa (ENLF) Dimashqitti 1972 labsine booda waan argame tokko tokko asirratti kaasuu fedha. Adeemsa qabsoo teennaarraa waa heddu baranna. Kana malellee namoonni Continue reading “Waan tare maal dhiifnee, maal kassuu barbaachisa?”
Let us not mourn the gada system but think of something much better
In my article under “ from my beliefs “ I tried in passing to summarily dismiss the gada system as belonging to the annals of history used by those who want to divert our attention and lull us away from the real task of real struggle for fundamental change. I exaggerated
Continue reading “Let us not mourn the gada system but think of something much better”
هل وصلنا الى طريق مسدود في الامبراطورية الاثيوية وكيف نخرج منه؟
وها نحن نقف اليوم امام واقع مادى ملموس يتمثل باعلان النظام الأثيوبي نفسه مرة أخرى منتصرا في انتخابات كانت كلها مسرحية هزلية ونرى الدوائر الدولية الرئيسية في الدول التي تعتبر نفسها معقل الديمقراطية والدفا ع عن حقوق الانسان تهنئ النظام الديكتاوري لأجراء الأنتخابات في جوسلمي بدلا من إدانته كنظام ديكتاتوري دموي يجب إيقافه بل إنهائه.
Continue reading “هل وصلنا الى طريق مسدود في الامبراطورية الاثيوية وكيف نخرج منه؟”
what lies behind woyane’s difiance
What lies behind woyane’s defiance?
The ease with which woyane’s theatrical election was successfully staged shows, on the one hand, its determination to rule indefinitely to achieve its long term Continue reading “what lies behind woyane’s difiance”
Welcome again to bariisa.com
Welcome again to bariisa.com
I am moving step –by-step slowly through the process of developing a usable and successful website powered by Joomla! It is an open source management system.
Its greatest advantage is believed to be Continue reading “Welcome again to bariisa.com”
I do believe sometimes in bad omen
It was towards the end of 1991. On my assignment to Bale. We were driving from Addis Ababa to Goba through Asella. We were, as I remember: Abba Duula, the worst slave among all Oromo slaves, the lowest of the low, working for the TPLF and the most cowardly, an Amharized Shewan. Abraham (Manjus), TPLF central committee member, my immediate boss in Bale, a born intriguer, obsessed with the fear of Islam more than anything. He was to insist later on, repeatedly, that I should sleep in bed in the regional palace, while he himself slept on the ground at my feet, to prove to me how revolutionary he was, but he kept at the same time dictating to me, reclining his head on the sofa, unjust and unpractical instructions from above during long nights. Many times I told him to sleep in the bed himself but stop forcing his unreasoning instructions down my throat. Each time he would laugh my remarks away and start the game all over again, reporting all my remarks later, no matter how trivial and idle, to his superiors back in the capital. He often reported his own subjective assessments as facts and was taken seriously. Later he was purged, in the aftermath of the war with Eritrea, along Tewolde, the man who could camouflage and underpin with apparently logical and refined arguments very effectively all the infantile policies of the TPLF. Manjus could be rehabilitated by now. He was eager constantly to entertain and please his superiors; contemptuous of his equals and subordinates. That was the way he rose up through the ranks. Then there were two Oromo intellectuals from Hararge, former teachers: Hassan Ali and Ahmed Yusuf, who joined the EPRDF a little before its takeover in 1991, both of them gentle, intelligent and hard working persons, hood-winked, by TPLF’s ideological pretensions, like me, into working for the puppet group, the OPDO. Both were candidates at the time for central committee membership. To my information Hassan Ali left the EPRDF long ago and lives in the USA. Ahmed Yusuf was dismissed later. I do not know his whereabouts now, a kindly man. They were both wary of my openness, especially Hassan Ali, who was initially much admired by our TPLF bosses. I remember one of the TPLF leaders speaking of him as a model of revolutionary intellectual. We had a Tigrayan driver along some fighters.
On Arrival at the headquarters of the EPDRF in Mojo, we were greeted by youngsters throwing stones at our cars. Abbaa Duula was muttering threats at something I did not get at first. Then the fighters in the car started firing. I found myself shouting “stop shooting! Stop the car!” When they did, I jumped out of the car, asking who gave the order. Abbaa Duula stepped in, in defense of the soldiers, saying they fired only in the air to frighten off the hooligans. “Hooligans”, I learned later, is part of regular TPLF vocabulary to disqualify summarily any demonstration against its brutality and misuse of power. As he was saying that, a man came towards us, carrying a small boy wounded in the leg. I was beyond myself and kept asking this Abbaa Duula “Is this boy a hooligan? And, even if you say he is, have you the right to shoot him? “. He started begging me to listen to his stupid repetitious explanation which I could not stand. Then he rushed to talk to the so-called OPDO elders, while Hassan Ali and I concentrated on getting the boy a medical care. This should have been the first omen warning me of the violent nature of the TPLF and its Oromo slaves, which I unfortunately ignored.
That night we ended in Asella where I was asked by Abraham Manjus to participate in a meeting of the OPDO recruits, which he chaired. The main topic was how to disarm the OLF and the Oromo Islamic Front. From the outset, I shocked Manjus and those TPLF elements, present with a group of obedient new Oromo recruits, mostly Shewans in Arsi area, by saying the topic should be raised in the parliament first, where the OLF and the Oromo Islamic were represented. Besides, I asked, who would disarm whom. I said all these armies, including TPLF fighters, must be treated equally and the transitional government should see to it that they become part of the national army.
Let me admit here that I was behaving like a person from another planet. Actually I was not so naive. All I wanted was that the TPLF got to hear the right thing and to know my genuine position. So I was acting something out in a way. Usually If I am convinced I can play certain roles effectively, mostly to my own surprise! I had attended Damascus University for five years learning English literature. Drama was my best subject even though I did not get good marks for it!
Now, seriously speaking, the TPLF, at that stage, tolerated all my views and readily admitted all the mistakes I laid at its door, while men obsequious towards power such as Kuma Dammaksa and Abba Duula, were gaping at me with jealousy. I jettisoned some of their silly plans a number of times and crossed their ways intentionally. Takkalign, the man next to Kumaa in OPDO, cleverly opted out of the dirty game later. I tried to talk to him a lot privately but he was afraid. He had the right to be. I do not know what he is doing now. He shocked the TPLF later by converting to Islam. I think he did it partly to distance himself from the TPLF. Of all the so-called OPDO central committee members at the time, he was the only person with a degree of self-awareness and integrity.
TPLF had decided already at the highest level to make use of men, new comers like me, in all possible ways. One of the secret mottos of the TPLF, which I was slow in learning, is this: make use of individuals and groups with some qualifications, learn from them what you can and finally kick them out if they started asking more vital questions than the TPLF could digest, replacing them, when possible, by more loyal, docile, opportunistic and controllable Abaa Duula and Kumaa type “comrades” and, when not, by Tigrayans or even loyal Eritrean highlanders, who are the same for all practical purposes.. Many psychopaths who learned EPDRF’s political program by rote were methodically manipulated in this way by the TPLF.
By the way because of the present conflict between Eritrea and Ethiopia, many people tend to underestimate the intoxicating power of Tigray nationalism or chauvinism even across the border in Eritrea, sometimes also across religious divide, and its influence in reshaping the politics in the Horn of Africa. It is, in a strange way, more coherent, articulate, resilient and more aggressive than Amhara chauvinism which shrouds itself in, and hides under old fashioned Ethiopian patriotism promoted by the Orthodox Church, to the point of hypocritically negating even the existence of Amhara national identity, unable to overcome the hangovers from the glory of the feudal era, brooding all the time over the so-called enemies of Ethiopia, over the lost glamour and the untouchable imaginary mythical ancient empire. TPLF is more diplomatic, more practical and more realistic in its assessments especially at the beginning. I think for the TPLF the Ethiopian unity is more a question of strategy and tactics than dogma. This practicality and this realism involve immense cynicism, nihilism, risk taking, adventurism, cruelty, ethnic ethos and euphoria, misinterpreted as intelligence, bravery and revolutionary commitment. It could even distinctly inspire a large number of its Moslem commanders so that they could be terribly brutal towards Moslem Oromo, Afar and Somali populations opposed to Tigray Domination. This is no speculation. But, one could say, this cruelty applies equally to the non-Tigray Moslem servants of the regime as well. It is true. Only these are not really distinguished and are even treated often with some suspicion and contempt, which is not new.
The two Tigrayan ruling elites in Ethiopia and Eritrea may indeed hate each other as much as they like but they are of the same stuff in more than one way and do not disagree, each for its own benefit and its own glory, on advancing Tigray supremacy in our region at the expense of others, including the Amharas even though they and the Amhara are agreed absolutely that Ethiopian unity comes first before everything else, before equality, before peace, before justice and human rights albeit for different motives. That is why for the time being almost all Amhara (Ethiopian, excuse me) political groups in opposition are tactically holding high the banner of democratic values on paper as never before. If they are allowed to take power again, yet another dictatorship is a foregone conclusion. That is also why most of the Eritrean opposition groups in Ethiopia today are playing a rare game and may succeed to achieve at least part of their agenda for a while. But most of the Oromo groups, the Somali and the Afar factions, for example, who look at the present regimes in Eritrea and Ethiopia as tactical friends are mostly engaged in self-deception and may pay heavily in the short and long run for their miscalculation.
The pretension of the Tigray political elites in both countries at supra-nationalistic or multi -national state and governance is a complete fiasco. Because of their narrow-mindedness, ethnic arrogance, their egotism and militarism, they wasted a historical opportunity for real changes in both countries.
After two days in Asella we were heading for Bale, my birth place. I had been in exile for long time. I really did not worry about my personal condition at the time. I had some money. I had worked in Germany for the first time for two consecutive years before I went back. So I could even help some people a little bit. And, don’t forget, I had German citizenship. I wanted to make some genuine contribution politically. But for the time being all I wanted was to be home again among the people I love most, and to care more about my health, not knowing that OLF had already poisoned the atmosphere by spreading the gossips and lies that I had sold myself for money to the EPDRF /TPLF. Even people with whom I grew up and who never questioned my integrity in general, including some of my close relatives, were obliged to shun me in public for fear of isolation, even while weeping with joy for meeting me. So strong was the atmosphere of awe, grandiosity and megalomania created by the OLF in a very short time, and without working for it hard! The name of the game was to get as much portfolios and positions in the government as possible, again, without working for it. It spread mostly by words of mouth fairyland tales about its strength and treated the unsuspecting masses of the Oromo people like children. Most Oromo big merchants everywhere and many Oromo collaborators with the former regime, with high expectations, were transformed overnight to its cadres, before it decided later to pack up its luggage and take safe passage with diplomatic passports and lots of coins that it had collected in the name of the struggle of the Oromo people. The Tigray dictators gave it only a push and cleverly facilitated its passage much as they wished to relieve it of the money. They were extremely pleased that the leadership of OLF voluntarily evacuated the city and that its ambition for more power in the bureaucracy evaporated in broad daylight. Most of the merchants and bureaucrats thus left behind swallowed their honor and the bait and turned in despair to the TPLF immediately with lots of gifts, presents and praise to promote their dear private interests. Some of them who avoided me in the hey-days of OLF turned to me in a servile manner thinking that I had some influence in the EPRDF.
The second omen came just as I was in rapture, looking ahead of me from the front seat, and to the left, as far as the eyes could see, at the vast lush Arsi plains around the river Wabe, extending all the way to the famous Bale heights on the right side. Far away to the left, I saw or perhaps imagined seeing the low lying area of the shrine of Dirre, a shrine whose periodic pilgrimages – Hajji and Zaaraa- had always inspired in me as a boy a sense of freedom and unconditional love at an early age. To this day I do love and adore the Baroo, songs of praise to Noor Hussein, even though I do not believe in superstition whatsoever, at least consciously not. Now, in the car, everybody was silent. I felt delighted and in harmony with the virgin natural landscape. Then as we were passing through a village I saw from a distance a pregnant dog lying on the waterproof asphalted roadside. Looking at my new Tigray driver grinning, I hastened to alert him, even though he was looking straight ahead. He nodded to me, and seemed for a moment to steer clear of the dog, then suddenly turning on the dog – a horrible sight I can never forget. I shouted to stop the car again. For some strange reason he kept driving defiantly until Hasan Ali joined me shouting “stop”. I remember covering my face with my hands, feeling horrible deep inside. Hassan Ali and others told the driver he should immediately admit doing wrong before we moved on, and others, including the notorious Abbaa Dula, joined the chorus. The guy admitted doing wrong, unmoved. I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder from behind trying to show sympathy. And the matter was never mentioned again.
I learned much later in the year that this driver was a TPLF fighter for over 15 years. Towards the end of my days with the EPDRF in Bale it became clear to me at some point that he had more power than Hasan Ali, Ahmed Yousuf, Dr. Adam, Takkalign and me, put together. He was instrumental in my removal from Bale later, which was a blessing in disguise.
The first direct confrontation between me and the TPLF started already only three days after I took office as the speaker of the transitional government in Bale. The occasion was a meeting of OPDO elements in Bale which I was heading. I wanted to be briefed on the nature of their activity before I took office. The top TPLF cadre in Bale, named Atakilt, forced the door open and burst into angry tirade. Shaking with fury, he accused me in front of all present of narrow-minded Oromo nationalism, saying I had no right to call a meeting in his absence. I answered that I had the right, and added that his behavior had the smack of chauvinism. Later, he twisted that and reported me as saying the TPLF was chauvinistic. No wonder he was taken seriously. It took six months to make him apologize in a well managed melodrama at EPRDF head office in the capital. He was replaced by a man called Chahma who worked with me till I left Bale. Later after I left the EPRDF I heard from a reliable source that he was Atakilt’s brother!
On the final showdown, the EPRDF summoned together about 200 military and civilian cadres in Bale in the military headquarters of Goba to assess my work as a speaker of the transitional government there. I asked myself if they were going to praise or damn me and concluded silently that it did not make much difference anyway. I already knew how unpredictable these men really were. I was looking for a peaceful way out. Yet I was not afraid perhaps because I was sure of my innocence, in a country where even innocence is often of no use. A little earlier I was in Ginir area on a sudden visit without prior notification where I followed EPRDF soldiers in action and saw how indiscriminate and heartless they were on the slightest provocation.
The meeting was chaired by TPLF central committee members flown by air from the capital to Bale. Of the 200 or so attending the meeting, three Oromo slaves were instigated to accuse me, among other things, of protecting, from the very beginning of my assignment, OLF elements and elders who allegedly had violated the charter of the transitional government.
I was not surprised even though I did not expect it to happen this way. On the contrary, to my own surprise, I suddenly felt relaxed. Smiling and looking back I stood up to question the three why they failed to alert me if I committed the mentioned blunders from the beginning of my assignment months back, in accordance with the internal regulations of the EPRDF. No answer. Some members from the back seats in the hall started giggling and laughing in sympathy with me and suddenly fell silent for fear. At this point one of the three stood up to address me as “doctor Hadi”. He said he knew that I was an intelligent man and advised me to accept nevertheless my mistakes instead of trying to look for excuses. I felt he was straining for effect. The whole thing appeared to me for a moment surprisingly surrealistic as seen in a dream.
By the way I never say every Tigray in the TPLF is a monster or an imposter. I also know among Tigreans superb human beings whose personal integrity I never doubt and who know the real nature of the TPLF, for that matter. Many innocent young people were drilled night and day over years and brainwashed never to question the leadership and never to raise vital topics. The leadership immerses and plunges them periodically in the so-called assessment meetings and endless discussions of petty technicalities with imaginary but attractively worded and cleanly printed “working programs”, with some ideological propaganda thrown in, so as to fill their times and to control them emotionally and mentally. Then the unbelievable metamorphosis begins: Ordinary human beings are transformed imperceptibly into thugs and merciless professional killers.
Well, there followed a long deadly silence in the military building. The chairman urged the three to answer my questions. Still no answer was forth-coming. I could see the shock on the faces of the chairman and his colleagues. Somehow the meeting failed to run as planned. There was again a long uneasy silence during which the delegation from the capital seemed to argue quietly among itself. Finally the chairman adjusted his microphone, saying the purpose of the meeting was only to start the assessment, and not to reach any conclusion. He asked those who accused me, (referring to me as a comrade), to prepare their evidences as the assessment would be taken up again in three or four months time.
With this drama over, Abraham Manjus informed me later in the day in extremely rude and hostile manner that I was transferred to Addis Ababa. Then I was bundled into a car and whisked off to the capital immediately. It was like being hijacked by one’s own government, not transferred. Again the nice thing was, thanks to heaven, I was for some reason calm and did not lose my temper at all. The said assessment never materialized. After what looked like a period of a short house arrest, they even gave me a small office in EPRDF headquarters, not far from Tewolde, the slowly talking authoritarian big man with a style of his own, which could be very attractive and, according to appearances, even sociable at times. Tewolde knew how to silence with a glare TPLF cadres when they became entangled in illogical and contradictory statements, especially in the presence of new comers like me.
My work was literally to sum up in writing the criticism of certain opposition papers against the EPRDF. I accepted the job in principle but wanted the right to reply to the critics, accepting what was right and repudiating what was false. Continue reading “I do believe sometimes in bad omen”
The death of Hussein Bunee
For those who really know him I do not need to say who he is.