The Post-War Ethiopia

Peace may be on the horizon in Ethiopia. But tremendous obstacles remain before the cycle of famine and suffering will end. After 30 years of war, Ethiopia faces political instability, agricultural disruption, high death tolls, and internal refugees as well as those who have fled from war-torn, neighboring countries in this region known as the Horn of Africa. More than seven million people are threatened by starvation, including 1.2 million refugees from Somalia and Sudan.

Just weeks before Ethiopia's longtime ruler Mengistu Haile Mariam fled at the height of the civil war in late May, one government official told me, "Peace for me is just a concept, not a reality. Our people are ravaged by war, famine, and poverty because of the discriminatory policies and misguided decisions of this regime." This view of the Mengistu regime was shared by many Ethiopians interviewed during a recent fact-finding tour of the country.

There were also anxious questions asked during those tense days before the coalition of rebel groups known as the Ethiopian People's Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF) entered Addis Ababa, Ethiopia's capital, and assumed government leadership: Would scenes of bloodshed and looting reminiscent of Liberia and Somalia be repeated here? Will a different government bring peace and stability? Yet amid the disquieting calm were also hope and a desperate desire for peace.

While the EPRDF was encouraged by the U.S. government to assume Ethiopia's leadership during U.S.-brokered peace talks between the government and opposition fronts, some in the country have questioned the capability of the traditionally Marxist EPRDF to establish a broad-based coalition government, as well as facilitate fair and adequate distribution of food and other emergency supplies to all people in need. One thing is certain: They will need the cooperation of all cultural and political groups in Ethiopia to accomplish those goals.

The Oromo Liberation Front (OLF) presents a significant challenge to the caretaker government. After the peace talks, the OLF, a major opposition front which has threatened secession from Ethiopia, attacked Sudanese refugees in the southwest Gambela region for food and supplies and stepped up fighting against remnants of the former government army, perhaps to strengthen its position in a new coalition government.

The other major opposition group in Ethiopia is the Eritrean People's Liberation Front (EPLF). The EPLF is seeking the right to self-determination through a referendum that would decide Eritrea's independence from Ethiopia. In May, the EPLF, which for the first time was controlling all Eritrean territory, stated it would not participate in a new coalition government in Ethiopia.

The EPLF set up a provisional government in Eritrea, but also agreed to postpone its demand for a referendum to allow time for peace and stability to come to Ethiopia. The decision recognizes that a developed and stable Eritrea is dependent on a stable and developing Ethiopia. This period of reprieve also allows Eritrea to focus on developing its war-shattered region. After three decades of fighting and recurring famine and drought, two million are close to starving, the environment is depleted, wells are drying up, disease is on the rise, livestock are dying, and the people are burning their meager furniture for firewood.

To achieve a lasting peace and an end to the cycle of suffering, fundamental economic and political change will be needed. And the new government will have to give the people of Ethiopia the full participation in policy decisions that affect the quality of their lives and the respect for human rights for which they have waited for so long.

MENGISTU'S DEPARTURE WAS NOT mourned by many in Ethiopia or in the international community. In the minds of most Ethiopians, his 14-year regime was seen as unrepresentative and discriminatory. The needs of the majority of the people were unmet, and they were forced to bear the burden of rising debt and inflation, high food prices, crop failure, lack of essential commodities, and repression by government security forces.

To maintain power, nearly 70 percent of the country's budget was spent on the military, diverting scarce resources away from productive activity. Agricultural investment was limited primarily to export production that required the use of large tracts of the most fertile land. The peasant farmers who account for 90 percent of Ethiopia's food production were pushed off their land, paid low prices for their produce, and given only minimal access to credit, training, and improved technology.

People everywhere in Ethiopia attribute their deteriorating situation to the war. In May, I traveled through an area south of Addis Ababa, which had not previously been drought prone but was now experiencing erratic rainfall. One peasant farmer told me: "Our land is becoming less productive, and we can't get the supplies that we need to improve our chances such as improved seeds, fertilizers, and farm animals. Either the fighting prevents the trucks from getting through or priority for supply distribution is given to the military."

Ethiopians do not want handouts, but tools that will help them to help themselves. Most important, they want an end to the fighting.

War has contributed to a humanitarian crisis of monumental proportions unfolding not just in Ethiopia but in the whole of the Horn of Africa. Famine and long-lasting conflicts have placed 21 million people at risk of starvation and displaced 8 to 14 million people from their homes, many fleeing back and forth between these poor, war-ravaged neighboring countries for food and safety. Only a regional peace solution involving Ethiopia as well as Sudan and Somalia will end the suffering.

SO FAR THE GLOBAL response to the crisis in the Horn has been inadequate, perhaps because the world's attention has been focused on the Persian Gulf and the reconstruction of Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union. In May, the United Nations World Food Programme estimated that 1.35 million metric tons of food was needed for Ethiopia, but only half was accounted for -- and that primarily in pledges. "To prevent a silent holocaust, countries must reprioritize their aid policies immediately," says Timothy Painter of the United Nations Development Program (UNDP).

While the causes of the conflicts in the Horn are local and solutions must come from within the region, the role of outside donor countries such as the United States, the Soviet Union, and European and Middle Eastern nations is significant. More than $12 billion in "security," or military-related, aid has flowed to the region from the Soviets, the United States, and Israel since 1980, exacerbating the region's instability.

The end of the Cold War presents an opportunity for the United States and other nations to reorient their aid policies in the region toward conflict resolution, food security, and long-term development. Congress is now considering legislation that would make the Horn of Africa a higher priority for the United States and the United Nations, and address the root causes of the famine.

The Horn of Africa Recovery and Food Security Act, as the legislation is called, would require, among other things, that the United States do the following: work with other nations to establish a United Nations international arms embargo to the region; channel development assistance directly to aid the poor majority through local, U.S., and international non-governmental organizations; and withhold all aid from governments in the region until there is demonstrated progress toward peace, democracy, and human rights.

The thread that holds the legislation together is grassroots participation. The bill recognizes that peace cannot simply be negotiated from the top down but must be built from the bottom up. And it affirms the continuing efforts of people at the local level, believing that a lasting peace must be based on equitable, participatory, and environmentally sound development.

With such initiatives, perhaps the images of skeletal, bloated-belly children on our television screens will eventually be replaced with pictures of strong, resilient people working for their own development and improved quality of life.

Sharon Pauling was a policy analyst for Bread for the World and had recently returned from a fact-finding trip to Ethiopia when this article appeared.