Barely a month after the nonsensical 99 % “win” by the EPRDF in this
year’s election, gloom has set in stalwartly even in the midst of
EPRDF’s happy-go-lucky adherents. The extremist’s dependably silly
proclivity for melodrama is also considerably diminished. (EPRDF
extremists constitute an amorphous entity unofficially steered by
Bereket Simon.) And with federal police and kebele officials shamefully
avoiding eye contact with Addis residents, the distressing impact of
the election’s “results” seem to be more perceptible on EPRDF’s
grassroots than either the opposition or the general public. “This is
the first election that has delegitimized the EPRDF in the eyes of its
grassroots members,” says a pundit. “No one is really trying to defend
it. This is a significant and unforeseen development.” And with
Ambassadorships around the world, as opposed to cabinet positions,
transformed in to the most coveted postings for senior government and
party leaders, the potency of the EPRDF, as many of its critics keenly
contend with increasing intensity, seem to be no more the eternal
disarray of opposition groups. Alas, the morale of the opposition is
in no superior standing; but at least they affably concede to that
much. But the election “result” has triggered the underlying covet for
change within the public—as many in the EPRDF feared and many in the
opposition had yearned.
Take the case of Assefa, a high school teacher in Addis. In his
mid-30s, married and with one child, he struggles to support his
family in a city ravaged by years of double-digit inflation. He voted
for CUD in 2005, his first vote in his lifetime. “I really thought
they were going to win,” he says glumly. He settled on looking
fretfully from the sidelines this year, convinced that the weakened
opposition had no chance against the might (“for rigging,” he says) of
the EPRDF. But as he sat in front of his 14-inch color TV a day after
Election Day and listened to “the sweeping wins by the EPRDF”, regret
about his failure to vote overwhelmed him. “It would have personalized
the insult," he says, perhaps echoing the sentiment of millions of
voters who feel that their individual votes that have been squandered.
What should the opposition do, I ask him. “They ought to call a
rally,’ he answers. But he envisages less people turning out than in
2005, when record number of people came out to shore up the opposition
at Meskel square. “But more people will show up than the tens of
thousands that turned out for the EPRDF last month,” he added
emphatically. And his thoughts on what Medrek should do with its one
seat in parliament? “They must boycott parliament. Most of my
colleagues and friends feel the same way.” He was -- and still is --
against a similar decision by the CUD in 2005, arguing that the gains
were too significant historically to be nonchalantly cast aside.
But Girma Seifu, who won the opposition’s only seat in Merkato, hub of
anti-EPRDF emotion and Addis’ business nucleus, has dismissed the
prospect of a boycott in rather harsh words. “Our party’s commitment
to engage the political process is not contingent on the number of
seats won,” he said to local media. “The people who pushed us towards
parliamentary boycott in 2005 are responsible for the subsequent
mayhem that damaged our party. My joining parliament is not subject to
negotiation.” But Dr Negaso Gidada refused to rule out a boycott.
“It’s up to the party to decide,” he said prudently. Girma went on to
relent a bit in due course, no doubt tempered by the chilly reaction
of party activists, and now insists that he will join parliament only
if the amount of time allotted to him to speak is reasonable.
Fired with the intriguing possibility of parliamentary boycott, I
pursued the idea with scores of Addis residents. Ahmed, a 21-year-old
college student who aspires to be a politician someday, cast his first
vote for Medrek this year. “I did it for Birtukan,” he says. There was
some talk of protests on campus after the results were announced, he
said. But the pressure of the approaching exams prevailed. Would he
support a parliamentary boycott by Mederk? He is not sure. But with
startling sophistication he explores both possibilities with me. And
finally, he settles on boycott. “A complete absence of the opposition
best highlights the narrowed political space,” he reasoned. Promising
to discuss it further with his friends, he leaves somewhat energized
by our chat. Three days later he calls: “Boycott wins. It’s 5 to 2.”
The enthusiasm for joining parliament amongst the youth is appreciably
lower in Merkato, with many still speaking heatedly of the post
election riots in 2005. “My child is not only dead, but he has been
called a bank robber by the government,” said one mother I met in her
one room home in Merkato, tears swelling in her eyes. “God will not
take me before I see the day his name cleared.” The two young men who
arranged the meeting nodded solemnly. Shocked by her unyielding trauma
almost five years after the death of her child, I left hastily
without asking the questions I had gone to ask. Both young men were in
10th grade in 2005, too young to vote. One voted this year. “I told
him it was a complete waste of time,” said the one who did not vote as
we sipped coffee in a neighborhood café. But both agreed that Medrek
should boycott parliament when I raised the issue with them. “What
could they do with one vote?” they ask.
A medical doctor who voted for Medrek is bolder: “Being part of a
deceit will make an accomplice out of them.” But what should take
precedence, I ask him: the conscience of Girma or the decision of the
party, if Medrek is to settle on boycott but Girma remains unconvinced
and still believes otherwise. For the liberal democrat conscience has
precedence, he responds musingly. “Only for authoritarians is the
party line more important than the conscience of the individual.”
But the issue Girma has to grapple with is much more complex than
mere choice between conscience and the party line - if it comes to that
eventuality. Indeed, his jibe at the leaders of CUD who were strong
proponents of a boycott in 2005 reveal of a perception of politics as
-- in line with a popular dictum -- “an arrt of the possible”, change
coming only incrementally. The rival notion of politics, which tender
stirring political parties and leaders as catalysts to overcome
tyranny, is discredited as far as he is concerned. But no less
significantly, this is his rendezvous with destiny. He has been
abruptly catapulted from political obscurity. The next five years
offer him an opportunity to construct a distinctive political identity
for himself. This opening will not come again. Such thoughts will
dominate his thinking in the coming months, and in fairness,
particularly by the dismal moral standard of our times, one can only
empathize with the impasse he will be entangled in if his personal
interests collide with that of the party.
Medrek’s interest, on the other hand, is crystal clear. Clearly the
majority of its supporters I spoke to want it to boycott parliament.
Granted that this is no scientific survey and that serious political
parties do not always accede to public opinion, the alternative is no
more than the legitimatization of the status-quo and the continued
momentum of a one-party state in the making. A viable opposition in
the context of Ethiopia’s objective condition can not limit itself to
mere electoral engagement, as is the case in normal democracies. It
must out of necessity become an object of peaceful societal
transformation, an agent of peaceful change. To be such a party, Medrek
must boycott the parliament.
The writer, Eskinder Nega, has been in and out of prison several times while he was editor of one of several newspapers shut down during the 2005 crackdown. After nearly five years in the limbo, Eskinder, his award-winning wife Serkalem Fassil, and other colleagues have yet to win government permission to return to their jobs in the publishing industry. Email: serk27@gmail.com
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