Girma Berhanu, Professor
Summary
In this rather lengthy article, I attempt to draw attention to what I believe is an increasingly serious and potentially devastating danger facing the Amhara people. The reported emergence of an alliance among several Ethiopian rebel and opposition armed groups, whose principal common objective appears to be the removal of the current government, deserves particularly careful scrutiny.Political alliances built primarily around a shared desire to overthrow a government, without a clear and credible understanding of what follows, can carry profound risks. The historical record of conflict involving the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) and the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA), as well as the immense human suffering experienced by Amharas and other Ethiopian communities, makes it especially important that these concerns are neither dismissed nor overlooked. My deepest concern is that the Amhara people could once again become the principal victims of political calculations made by others—and, tragically, of decisions made in their own name. The danger is compounded when armed actors and self-appointed representatives, including some voices within the diaspora, pursue short-term political objectives without adequately considering their possible consequences for the population they claim to defend. This is not a call for panic, confrontation, or despair. It is a call for serious reflection. Before entering into or endorsing any political or military alliance, Amhara leaders and the wider community should ask fundamental questions: What guarantees exist for the safety of the Amhara population? What political vision lies beyond regime change? What mechanisms would prevent renewed violence and retaliation? What would happen if the participating groups’ interests diverged? And, most importantly, who would bear the consequences if the alliance were to collapse or if its members turned against one another? History has repeatedly shown the devastating price that ordinary people can pay when political actors pursue strategic objectives without sufficient consideration of their consequences. The Amhara people should therefore not be expected to place their future in assurances that have not been clearly articulated or credibly demonstrated. The warning signs deserve careful attention while there is still an opportunity for restraint, dialogue, and responsible political leadership. The protection of human life and the future of the Amhara people should remain central to every political calculation. May Almighty God protect and preserve this ancient and historically significant people and spare them from yet another tragedy unfolding before our eyes.
The Question of Survival
The question of whether the Amhara struggle for survival is attainable is not simply a political question. At its deepest level, it is a human and existential question: How does a people preserve its lives, dignity, security, identity, and future when political conflict becomes prolonged, violent, and increasingly defined by competing claims of collective survival?
I feel compelled to write this article because of the extraordinary confusion that has emerged, particularly among Amharas, following reports of an alliance among seven Ethiopian rebel and opposition armed groups. The reported coalition brings together Fano forces in Amhara, the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA), the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF), and four smaller organizations under the name Alliance for Survival. The participating groups accuse Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed’s government of presiding over what they describe as “war, genocide, mass destruction and utter poverty,” and warn that Ethiopia is moving towards disintegration. These are grave allegations and should be examined against available evidence rather than accepted or dismissed according to political allegiance. At the same time, another question cannot be avoided: What does it mean for a people who regard themselves as fighting for survival to enter into an alliance with political and armed actors whose historical records are viewed by many within that same community as deeply implicated in violence, displacement, exclusion, and attacks against Amhara communities? This is not a peripheral question. It is central to understanding the present moment.
For decades, Ethiopia’s political history has been marked by competing narratives of victimhood, domination, liberation, and collective grievance. The history of violence against Amhara communities—including documented allegations and accounts of massacres, displacement, persecution, and exclusion—cannot simply be erased from political memory because a new strategic configuration has emerged. Nor can the historical experiences of other Ethiopian communities be dismissed or reduced to propaganda.
A serious political analysis must be capable of holding these histories together, even when they are deeply uncomfortable and contested. This is precisely why the present moment is so troubling. Information circulating through social media and other media platforms is fragmented, contradictory, and often shaped by political mobilization rather than careful historical analysis. The result is a remarkable degree of confusion. Even among educated Amharas, the debate has increasingly been reduced to a binary choice: support the alliance or reject it; embrace it as a strategic necessity or condemn it as a betrayal.
That binary is intellectually inadequate.
An alliance is not necessarily a reconciliation. Nor is opposition to a common government evidence of shared political objectives, a common interpretation of history, or a shared vision for the future. Political actors can cooperate temporarily while holding fundamentally different views concerning the state, territory, citizenship, identity, and political power.
The critical questions are therefore not simply whether the alliance is for or against Abiy Ahmed’s government. More consequential questions include:
These questions should not be dismissed as signs of disunity. On the contrary, asking them is a form of political responsibility.
A Common Enemy Does Not Necessarily Create a Common Future
There is an understandable strategic argument behind the alliance. When a government is perceived as incapable of protecting citizens, resolving conflict, or preventing mass violence, opposition forces may seek to coordinate their resources against it. From this perspective, cooperation among previously antagonistic actors can be interpreted as a pragmatic response to a common political crisis.But strategic necessity has limits.A common enemy does not necessarily create a common future. Two actors may agree on what they oppose while remaining profoundly divided over what should replace it. History offers many examples of alliances formed against a common adversary that later collapsed because the participating actors had incompatible political objectives. The existence of an alliance therefore tells us relatively little about what kind of political order would follow its success. For Amharas, this creates a particularly painful dilemma. On one side is the imperative of survival. Communities facing violence, displacement, insecurity, and political marginalization naturally seek allies. No community should be expected to remain politically isolated while others organize around competing interests. On the other side is historical memory.
Political memory matters because communities do not enter alliances as blank slates. They carry memories of violence, displacement, betrayal, exclusion, and broken political promises. Asking people to suspend those memories in the name of short-term strategic necessity is neither politically realistic nor intellectually convincing.The dilemma becomes even more difficult when organizations associated with radically different historical narratives are suddenly presented as partners in a common struggle. Can yesterday’s antagonists become tomorrow’s guarantors of one another’s survival? Perhaps they can. But such a proposition requires evidence, not faith. It requires explicit political commitments and clarity concerning territorial questions, citizenship, constitutional arrangements, federalism, minority protections, accountability for past violence, and the future distribution of political power. Most importantly, it requires credible guarantees that political change will not simply replace one community’s insecurity with another’s.
What Does “Survival” Mean?
This is where the language of “survival” itself requires scrutiny. If survival means the protection of civilians, equal citizenship, freedom from collective punishment, cultural security, and the right of every community to participate meaningfully in political life, then survival is a universal principle. It cannot legitimately belong to one group alone. But if “survival” becomes a political language through which one group mobilizes against another, the concept itself can become part of the problem. Ethiopia cannot escape its cycle of violence if every community understands its own security as requiring the political or territorial insecurity of another.The tragedy is that Ethiopia increasingly appears trapped within precisely this logic. Communities that once imagined themselves as part of a shared political project increasingly see themselves as threatened collectivities. Historical grievances are transformed into contemporary political identities, while contemporary violence reinforces historical grievances. The resulting cycle makes reconciliation increasingly difficult and political alliances increasingly transactional. This is why the Amhara question cannot be treated entirely in isolation from the Ethiopian question.
The legitimate security concerns of Amharas should not be dismissed as mere nationalism, just as the historical grievances of other Ethiopian communities should not simply be dismissed as fabrications. A serious political settlement must be capable of recognizing legitimate grievances without converting historical suffering into a permanent justification for collective retaliation. There is no sustainable future in which one community’s survival depends upon another community’s subordination. Nor is there a sustainable future in which historical crimes are forgotten for the sake of political convenience. The present alliance therefore deserves neither automatic celebration nor automatic condemnation. It deserves rigorous scrutiny.
Those who support it have an obligation to explain what has changed. If organizations with deeply antagonistic histories are now political partners, what precisely has been reconciled? Have their political objectives genuinely converged, or are they merely coordinating against a common adversary? What mechanisms exist to prevent renewed conflict among the partners? What constitutional and political order do they envision? What protections would exist for civilians if the balance of power changed?
Those who reject the alliance also have an obligation to articulate an alternative. Historical memory alone cannot constitute a political strategy. Condemnation of an alliance does not answer the question of how Amhara communities can achieve security, political representation, and protection under present circumstances.
The debate must therefore move beyond social-media slogans and accusations of betrayal. The Amhara struggle for survival cannot be secured by political innocence. But neither can it be secured by political amnesia. It requires historical memory without historical imprisonment; strategic calculation without moral blindness; and political alliances without surrendering the capacity for independent judgement.
The Humanitarian Crisis Unfolding in Amhara
The history outlined above makes the emerging political alignment particularly striking—and deeply paradoxical.Amhara Fano forces are reportedly expected to cooperate with organizations that many Amharas have historically regarded as political adversaries, with the stated objective of helping to remove the Abiy Ahmed government from power. The political logic is understandable: when confronted by a powerful common adversary, even historically antagonistic forces may find strategic reasons to cooperate. But this immediately raises a more fundamental question: If the Amhara struggle is a struggle for survival, what exactly constitutes survival—and how can that objective be reconciled with an alliance involving actors whom many Amharas associate with previous violence, displacement, and existential threats?
This is not a question that can simply be dismissed as emotionalism, political naïveté, or opposition to unity. It is a question of political strategy and historical memory.If the alliance is genuinely intended to create a new political future for Ethiopia, its architects need to explain what has changed, what common political principles now unite these forces, and what concrete guarantees exist to protect the communities whose interests they claim to represent. The immediate objective may be the removal of the Abiy government. But removing a government is not the same as resolving the political conflicts that produced it. Nor does a coalition against a common adversary automatically constitute a coalition for a common future. Indeed, the most difficult questions may arise after the common adversary has been removed.
What political order would follow?
How would power be distributed?
How would territorial and constitutional disputes be addressed?
What would prevent old antagonisms from resurfacing?
What guarantees would protect civilians if the alliance itself fractured?
These questions are particularly consequential for the Amhara struggle. A movement fighting for the security and survival of its people cannot afford to substitute short-term strategic calculations for long-term political clarity. Survival requires not only addressing an immediate threat; it requires knowing what kind of political order will exist afterwards. That is the paradox at the heart of the present moment.
Those who support the alliance may see it as an unprecedented opportunity to challenge a government they regard as responsible for catastrophic suffering. Those who oppose it may see it as an unacceptable abandonment of historical memory and a potentially dangerous strategic contradiction. These positions reflect profoundly different assessments of political risk and possibility. But neither should be reduced to a slogan.The real test of the alliance is therefore not simply whether its members can unite against Abiy Ahmed. The more fundamental question is whether they can articulate a credible political settlement in which the survival, security, dignity, and political rights of Amharas are protected without requiring the subordination or insecurity of another Ethiopian community. That is a considerably more difficult task than forming an alliance.An alliance can be built around a shared enemy relatively quickly. A durable political order cannot.
The Human Cost of Conflict
Behind these political developments are people whose lives have been profoundly disrupted. Families have lost loved ones, livelihoods have been destroyed, communities have been displaced, and children have experienced prolonged interruptions to their education.
Human Rights Watch has reported on the closure of thousands of schools in Amhara as a consequence of continuing hostilities, as well as the destruction of school infrastructure. These developments illustrate how the consequences of conflict extend far beyond the battlefield and into the everyday lives, opportunities, and futures of children. The prospect of a broader and more destructive conflict raises serious humanitarian and social concerns. The conflict is no longer simply a confrontation between armed actors. Its effects are being absorbed by an entire population already burdened by displacement, insecurity, economic disruption, and damage to essential social infrastructure.For many Amharas, therefore, the word “survival” carries a meaning far broader than physical existence. It can encompass the ability to remain safely in one’s community, preserve one’s livelihood, educate one’s children, participate fully in social and political life, maintain cultural traditions, and have one’s identity, dignity, and historical experiences recognized. These dimensions of survival cannot be separated from broader questions of governance, security, citizenship, equality, and human rights.
When schools are closed, communities are displaced, livelihoods are destroyed, and civilians are repeatedly exposed to violence, survival becomes not merely a question of staying alive. It becomes a question of whether a community can sustain the social, economic, cultural, and political conditions necessary to have a future. This is why the present crisis must be understood in terms broader than the immediate military confrontation. The consequences of continued warfare will be measured not only in casualties, but also in generations of disrupted education, lost livelihoods, displacement, trauma, weakened institutions, and diminished opportunities for children. A people can survive physically while losing much of the social foundation upon which collective life depends.Humanitarian access is also a serious concern. Human Rights Watch has reported significant restrictions and security risks affecting humanitarian operations in Amhara, including kidnappings and attacks involving humanitarian personnel. Such conditions can make it increasingly difficult for assistance to reach vulnerable populations. The human cost of conflict should therefore remain central to any discussion of political strategy.
Identity, Dignity, and Belonging
The language of survival can also be understood in relation to identity and belonging. Amhara history, language, cultural traditions, religious heritage, and social institutions form an important part of Ethiopia’s broader historical and cultural landscape. For many people, protecting these elements is inseparable from protecting their sense of belonging. At the same time, questions of identity can become highly politicized under conditions of conflict. Narratives of collective victimhood, historical grievance, and existential threat can deepen divisions between communities. It is therefore particularly important to distinguish between legitimate concerns about rights, security, and identity and narratives that may contribute to hostility towards other ethnic communities. The protection of Amhara identity and rights does not have to be understood as incompatible with the rights and dignity of other Ethiopian communities. A sustainable future would require a political and social framework in which different communities can maintain their identities while enjoying equal protection, security, and political rights.
Is Survival Attainable?
The answer to this question cannot be determined by military developments alone. If survival is understood as the preservation of human life, dignity, cultural identity, education, economic livelihoods, and political participation, then the challenge is much broader than defeating one armed actor or achieving one military victory. The experience of conflict in Amhara suggests that military approaches alone have not resolved the underlying problems. Continued hostilities have instead generated further civilian suffering and displacement. A sustainable path forward would require meaningful protection of civilians, humanitarian access, accountability for serious abuses, restoration of essential services, opportunities for displaced people to return voluntarily and safely, and a political process capable of addressing legitimate grievances. It would also require space for Amhara communities to articulate their concerns without those concerns automatically being reduced to either support for or opposition to an armed group. The question, therefore, is not simply whether the Amhara struggle can “win.” A more fundamental question is whether Ethiopia can create conditions in which Amhara people—and all other communities—can live without fear, preserve their identities, educate their children, pursue their livelihoods, and participate meaningfully in determining their political future.
A Tragedy That Demands Attention
What is unfolding in Amhara should not become another forgotten humanitarian crisis. The suffering of civilians should not be subordinated to political narratives or military calculations. Nor should the experiences of one community be used to deny the suffering or rights of another. The current situation calls for greater attention to civilian protection, independent documentation of abuses, humanitarian access, and serious efforts towards dialogue and accountability. These are not concessions to one political side; they are principles necessary for protecting human life and creating conditions for a sustainable peace. The tragedy before us is that continued violence risks transforming immediate suffering into a generational crisis. Children who grow up amid insecurity may inherit not only the material consequences of conflict but also its unresolved grievances and memories.The struggle for survival is therefore ultimately a struggle for a future in which survival itself is no longer the central concern. For the Amhara people, as for all communities in Ethiopia, the enduring question is whether a future can be built in which identity does not require insecurity, political participation does not require violence, and the protection of one community’s rights does not come at the expense of another’s. That future remains difficult to achieve. But allowing cycles of violence, displacement, and impunity to continue risks deepening the tragedy that is already unfolding before our eyes. The question is therefore not simply whether Fano can help topple Abiy Ahmed. The deeper question is what political future the Amhara people would be entering into by doing so. That question deserves to be answered before any alliance is presented as a path to survival.
