Ethiopia: Waving the Flag - Its Beauty And Contradictions

Ethiopia: Waving the Flag - Its Beauty
And Contradictions

5 November, 2009 | Etyopian Simbiro

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Opinion

The Ethiopian flag contains

the universally recognised

tri-colours (green, yellow,

and red). Different regimes

have always embellished it

with emblems that define their political ideology. The founding
fathers of the nation chose those tri-colours for political and
religious reasons. The flag gave legitimacy to their monarchical rule
and authenticity to the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, which practices
a unique brand of Christianity, the official religion of the monarchy
until 1974 - the military junta (1974-91) ended the church's
monopoly as a state religion.

Some foreigners, who love reggae music and admire
Rastafarianism, have no clue that the tri-colours, which Bob Marley
popularised, actually represent Ethiopia. I have met many people,
young and old, who thought the tri-colours were Marley's patented
colours; little did they know that both Marley and the Rastafarians
drew their inspiration from Ethiopia, which also inspired Marcus
Garvey, the early 'back to Africa' campaigner whose teachings
influenced generations of African-Americans and other black
people.

THE FLAG AS A SYMBOL OF NATIONAL PRIDE

Classic poems have been written revering the flag. Many writers
and patriots throughout the world still squeeze their last drops of
inks to coin mighty words of praise for their flags.

The flag is synonymous with the nation. It defines the nation; the
nation is the flag. Otherwise, angry protesters across the world
would not bother burning it in order to release their anger, to
express their frustration and to send a strong message to the
particular nation they strongly oppose or detest. The flag epitomises
nationalism and patriotism. It reflects almost everything that the
nation consists of: the constitution, the government, the mainstream
culture, the politics, the militarism, and the diversity or singularity of
the people. It is not without reason that the flag is displayed almost
everywhere in a given nation: from one's bedroom (not to mention
one's underwear, necklaces, bracelets or wrist bands) to major
public spaces.

Sports events and other activities that stir the national
consciousness are always decorated with national flags. For
example, it is common to see Ethiopia's world class athletes shed
joyful tears during the green-yellow-red flag-hanging ceremonies
after their major international wins. Those droplets of joyful tears
have the power to agitate even the least patriotic person. Another
great example is the United Nations. What makes the UN most
special is the display of flags of the many nations.

The flag (along with maps, anthems, the constitution, historical relics
and other national symbols) gives legitimacy to the sovereignty of
the state. People throughout the world have paid a bloody price for
their flags. At every national struggle, either peaceful or violent,
flags are always present, symbolising the strength of the struggle.

For the ideologist or politician, the flag is a potent weapon with
which to mobilise people and to rejuvenate a group consciousness.
The flag embeds within itself the spirit of togetherness among
different groups despite conflicting interests. It is a connecting
thread. It transcends barriers. It serves as a guiding star of the
nation, whether oppressive or democratic.

The flag motivates the individual to persevere, and to either win or
lose as part of the group that he or she belongs to. For instance,
Abdissa Aga, the famous Second World War Ethiopian hero, was
captured by fascist Italy during occupation and taken to a notorious
prison in Sicily, but later escaped and became the leader of
international dissidents, former prisoners like him. He and his
colleagues fought against the fascist forces in both Italy and
Germany, collaborating with the Allied forces. He surprised the
British and the Americans, who gave him the rank of major. His
group finally liberated Rome from the hands of the fascists and he
drove around the city waving the Ethiopian flag. This same brave
man, who deeply loved the flag, his country and his people, was
later to be oppressed and stripped of his title upon his return by the
then aristocrats, who considered his international stature a threat to
their position and who perhaps thought of him as a second-class
citizen because of his ethnic background: he was an Oromo from
Wellega, Western Ethiopia.[1]

Unfortunately, there has always been outrageous discrimination
based on ethnicity in Ethiopia. Even the supposedly socialist regime
did not escape from suppressing those who advocated for regional
autonomy because of its fear that regionalism could overshadow
Ethiopian nationalism, though in its final days it tried to negotiate
with regionalists, but it was too late. Also today the status quo
remains the same, despite having a regime that apparently
recognises ethnic self-determination and acknowledges the
historical marginalisation of the oppressed. The Zenawi regime
ironically continues to repeat the same old mentality that politics is a
zero-sum game and one group is destined to dominate others
undemocratically. The constitution, which the regime fails to fully
implement, acknowledges and states in its preamble:

'Fully cognizant that our common destiny can best be served by
rectifying historically unjust relationships and by further promoting
our shared interests; convinced that to live as one economic
community is necessary in order to create sustainable and mutually
supportive conditions for ensuring respect for our rights and
freedoms and for the collective promotion of our interests ... have
therefore adopted this constitution.'[2]

Nevertheless, the rule of law and free and fair elections, which are
the basic requirements of any democracy, are yet to be realised in
Ethiopia.

THE FLAG AS A SYMBOL OF NATIONAL DISCONTENT

As much as the flag is a symbol of liberty and a source of national
pride, it also carries the ills of the nation; it reminds of oppression,
and awakens old wounds. For example, in the United States, while
'The Star Spangled Banner' stands for freedom, the Confederate
flag represents a legacy of racism and slavery. Particularly for black
people, the latter revives old memories, scars of racial and
economic marginalisation.

No doubt that the Ethiopian flag is the most politicised national
symbol. The whole burden of Ethiopian nationalism rests heavily on
it. It is not an exaggeration to say that the flag is at the centre of the
Ethiopian political crisis.

For Ethiopian conservatives, the national flag means the blood their
ancestors spilled to build the empire and to free it from the jaws of
external forces. It is the most idolised, perhaps next to God. Such
idolisation has the potential to justify historical injustices and to only
glorify the past, regardless of its contradictions.

Right-wing nationalists still hold a grudge against Zenawi, who once
bashed the flag as 'a piece of rag'. This statement and the 'self-
determination up to secession' phrase in the constitution are
perhaps the two most debated issues, other than the 2005 election,
that have earned the former rebel the title, 'anti-Ethiopia'.

A blogger for nazret.com once wrote:

'If things were to be judged by their prices, one of Zenawi's
winter-time jackets would have been more valuable than a
nylon flag. But that is not the case. When hard-line Somalians
got angry at Meles led military intervention in their country,
they did not look for one of his most expensive suits; they
simply burned our Green-Yellow-Red because it stands for
Ethiopianism.'[3]

A supporter of Zenawi fired back:

'The reality is that during a televised debate about the state of
the union of Ethiopia's Nations, Nationalities and Peoples, the
Prime Minister, in good faith, remarked that the moot point
was not the fabric but what it carried with it. While his
government had no qualms as far as the tri-color was
concerned, today's Ethiopians were unwilling to come under
the oppressive rule of an outlandish Lion embossed on the
flag.'[4]

One of the few successes of the military junta, or the Dergue, was
its validation of the flag as the ultimate manifestation of Ethiopian
nationalism. The popular motto 'One Ethiopia or death!' was to
defend the flag but not the constitution, which did not even exist
until the regime's last days. The junta exploited the inflated
nationalism to effectively mobilise the largest army in Africa during
the Cold War era. Some sympathisers of the Dergue justify its
crimes, arguing that it was okay for the regime to kill, bomb or
destroy its own people because it fought against rural and urban
guerrillas that threatened 'Ethiopia's unity and the flag'. It seems they
are unaware that it is the rule of law that keeps people together and
protects the flag, but not the other way around; the bloodthirsty
dictator only brought his own demise in the end. If one has to agree
with Mengistu's sympathisers, then one will have no choice but to
accept Zenawi's justification of locking up or destroying his
opponents; after all, he also does it in the name of Ethiopia.

For the proponents of ethnic self-determination, the national flag is
the ultimate symbol of the contradictory nature of the Ethiopian
state. The sociologist Asafa Jalata, an Oromo nationalist, argues,
'Although the historical meaning of Ethiopia is applicable to all
Black peoples, its contemporary meaning applies mainly to
Amharas and Tigrayans, who have successively dominated
Ethiopian state power.'[5] This statement also implies that the
national flag and other symbols that represent the state belong to
the two mentioned groups.

Although the two ethnic groups dominated state power, it is actually
difficult to talk about contemporary Ethiopia without mentioning the
numerous contributions of Oromos and other ethnicities that
willingly or unwillingly participated in the making of the Ethiopian
state. One of the notorious generals of Menelik II, Gobena Dache,
for example, was an Oromo who succeeded in defeating forces that
resisted surrendering to the king, though some Oromo nationalists
consider him a sell-out who betrayed his own people.[6] It is
believed that even Haile Sellasie had an Amhara, Gurage and
Oromo heritage, though he dedicated his entire life to building an
Amharic-speaking, Orthodox Christian nation like his
predecessors; he was an ambitious empire builder who strongly
believed in a unitary state.

There were many notable Oromos and non-Oromos, including
Eritreans, who sacrificed their lives while serving Ethiopia during
and after the Italian invasion. When Haile Sellasie fled the country
to save his life and to appeal to the League of Nations in 1936,
what gave the Italians a heart attack was the resistance of rebels,
comprised of various ethnic groups, such as the forgotten patriot
Jagama Kello, whom the BBC profiled recently. These rebels
fiercely engaged and obliterated the fascist forces from day one.
But, unfortunately, Haile Sellasie, upon his return from exile,
mistreated most of them because they advocated for a fair and
democratic system, which the monarch saw it as a threat to his
supremacy; some, such as Belay Zeleke, were even noosed
because they dared to challenge his unjust rule and shameless
favouritism.

The student movement that led to the overthrow of the Haile
Sellasie regime was also the product of the majority of ethnicities
inside Ethiopia.

It is true that despite all the sacrifices made in the name of Ethiopia,
there has been an unequal distribution of power and wealth in the
country. Even if that is the case, the solution is not to utterly
abandon the idea that today's Ethiopia belongs to both the
oppressed and the oppressor. The acknowledgement of historical
injustices and a formal reconciliation must be considered, which will
not only resolve the national crisis but will also reaffirm the historical
meaning of Ethiopia, a land that belongs to all black people.
Today's Ethiopia belongs to all of us and we all must fight for it.
Those of us in the diaspora (left or right) must help those inside the
country (either political parties or NGOs) financially, morally and
through the transfer of knowledge. Those that fight for freedom
inside the country are the ones who will ultimately bring the change
we all desire. Preaching dangerous politics while enjoying our
comfortable life in the West will only make matters worse
domestically. It won't help our poor people who have been behind
bars despite regime changes.

BEYOND GOOD AND EVIL

The official flag of the monarchy, which had the Lion of Judah
emblem, signified the link between the church, the state and the
people. The flag's symbolism further validated the legend that the
monarch descended directly from the kingdom of Solomon and that
his God-given power was unquestionable.

After Menelik II, the rise of Haile Sellasie to power and his
effective foreign diplomacy and domestic centralisation further
popularised the flag. The tri-colours on the flag had green for land
and hope, yellow for church, peace, natural wealth and love, and
red for power and faith. Additionally, the colours also had a
religious connotation, symbolising the Trinity.[7]

Once the military junta deposed the monarchy, it removed the Lion
of Judah emblem from the flag, and eventually replaced it with its
version of a socialist emblem. The military interpreted the tri-
colours as green for the fertility of the land, yellow for freedom, and
red for the blood sacrificed to keep the nation together.[8]

Today, the Ethiopian Orthodox Church remains the definitive
custodian of the feudal tradition; it is common to find the Lion of
Judah flag displayed in some churches. In addition, Rastafarians
and admirers of Haile Sellasie also revere this old flag; nevertheless,
as mentioned earlier, those against the old system unequivocally
reject it and they have their reasons.

The former rebels that now control state affairs have also modified
the flag, replacing the socialist emblem with their version while
keeping the tri-colours.

According to the current constitution (Article 3), 'The Ethiopian
flag shall reflect the hope of the Nations, Nationalities,
Peoples, and religious communities of Ethiopia to live together
in equality and unity.'[9]

Undeniably, there has been a significant change in the country,
though most of it is still on paper. However, despite the progressive
constitution that we currently have, which is subject to amendments,
the country has not yet declared the superiority of the law above
the individual who rules. The individual, either the local
policeperson or the prime minister of the country, is still above the
law practically. The democratisation process has not gone past its
baby steps.

The rule of law, free and fair elections, accountability and
transparency seem dreams that may not come true anytime soon,
even if the current regime is replaced. In a country where the adult
literacy rate is 36 per cent (according to UNICEF's 2000-07
report), where the citizens are not fully aware of their rights and
responsibilities engraved in the constitution, and where the
constitution's superiority has not been genuinely declared, we will
have a long walk to freedom. Ethiopia not only needs a non-violent
political change, but also a non-violent cultural revolution. We have
to renew our mentality. Sometimes, just like in any other Third
World country, being in Ethiopia is like being one or two centuries
behind the rest of the world. I would not be surprised if my hairs
turn grey, like my father, without witnessing a fully democratised
Ethiopia, where non-partisan politicians reign and where the police
understand the meaning of human rights.

Pessimism aside, I do believe that Ethiopian politicians (left and
right) have a better chance today to move the country towards
democracy. If they sincerely dedicate themselves to democratic
ideals, they have the power to make the Ethiopian dream come
true, and that, in my hope, is establishing a truly democratic state.
An opportunistic mindset and ego aside, if they work together, then
miracles can happen in that country.

Some, who oppose the current regime, advocate that Ethiopia must
copy Ghana's centralist system. I am sure there is a lot Ethiopia can
learn from Ghana, especially in the fields of building democratic
institutions and respecting the rule of law, two of the many qualities
that have made Ghana a shining star in the continent. However, it
can be dangerous to wholeheartedly imitate Ghana's centralist
policies. Ethiopia has already welcomed a federal system that
favours decentralisation in theory, though this has not been yet fully
realised practically. In addition, everything that works in Ghana may
not work in Ethiopia; the two countries have evident cultural and
historical differences. I would argue that Ethiopia, as the second
most populous country in Africa, could draw better lessons from
other democratic yet federalist countries such as Canada, India,
South Africa or the USA, whose diversity/geography-based
political systems resemble ours comparatively. Nevertheless, the
solution to end Ethiopia's political crisis is not to simply imitate other
countries but to look at our own values and traditions and to
combine these native ideas with what we have learned or have
borrowed from outsiders. We have been imitating others
throughout our history; it is now time to think and act locally, while
keeping our eyes open on the global.

One of the successes of ethnic federalism, despite its obvious
failures, is that it has revived an ethnic consciousness and has
ingrained the idea of self-rule in the minds of Ethiopia's diverse
ethnic groups: two issues that are a 'dream come true' for the
historically marginalised but a 'nightmare' for the historically
dominant ethnic elites. Today, neither bringing back the Lion of
Judah nor playing the pseudo-socialist or pseudo-democratic trick
will have the significance to make the country a better place.
However, in order to positively exploit the growing ethnic
nationalism in Ethiopia, we have to come up with a better and all-
encompassing democratic system, which can fully address present
and future challenges. We must come into contact with reality and
accept the fact that we cannot return back to square one. We must
compromise, see the long-term benefits and advocate for the
supremacy of the rule of law, which will have the power to decide
whether we should redesign the national flag or should keep it the
way it looks now.

Politics aside, we all know that the Rastafarians use the tri-colours
in the spirit of love and peace. After what Ethiopia has gone
through, every Ethiopian, I am sure, is tired of old politics. It is time
for change, time for a renewed Ethiopia. I believe the Ethiopian
union is worth keeping, but should we want the union to prevail, we
shall have to advocate for a real change to come, a change that
leaves no room for dictatorship and corruption. Let the spirit of
love guide us. As Erich Fromm once said, 'love is a union with
somebody, or something, outside oneself, under the condition of
retaining the separateness and integrity of one's own self.'

Let's say goodbye to the age-old Ethiopian mentality: character
assassination, suspicion, vengeance, finger-pointing, holier-than-
thou trickery, cynicism, stubbornness, empty pride, infighting, hate
mongering and self-denial. Let's instead listen to each other, respect
one another, compromise, genuinely acknowledge past and present
failures, reconcile, trust one another, forgive, celebrate our
differences, agree to disagree, encourage a culture of debate or
dialogue, walk the talk and advocate for the supremacy of the rule
of law more than anything else!

Etyopian Simbiro is an Ethiopian student based in the US.

NOTES

[1] Abdissa Aga an Ethiopian Hero, Fikre Tolossa, http://www.fettan.
com/Documents/Abdissa_Aga_an_Ethiopian_Hero.doc

[2] The Constitution of the Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia,
http://www.law.ugent.be/pub/nwr/elw/MainConstitutionpage.htm

[3] http://www.nazret.tk/

[4] http://addisfortune.tk/

[5] Being in and out of Africa: the Impact of Duality of Ethiopianism,
Asafa Jalata, Journal of Black Studies, (Nov 2009)

[6] A critical review of the political and stereotypical portrayals of the
Oromo in the Ethiopian Historiography, Jeylan Welyie Hussein, Nordic
Journal of African Studies 15(3): 256-276 (2006), http://www.njas.
helsinki.fi/pdf-files/vol15num3/wolyie.pdf

[7] http://www.crwflags.com/FOTW/flags/et.html

[8] See [7]

[9] See [2]

Courtesy