BY RASHID ABDI | ADDIS STANDARD
Two mass protest movements have, in quick succession, forced regime changes in Sudan and Ethiopia, two of the Horn of Africa’s quintessential “hard” states. A deep-seated disillusion with the security and developmental states drives the new “revolutionary” mood. What is less clear is where all the ferment and the popular demand for a new dispensation will lead.
In Sudan, the ouster of Al-Bashir has been followed by a partial retreat of the security state. In Ethiopia, the election of a reformist PM and a year of sweeping reforms, have extensively eroded the power of the security Deep State.
Yet, neither PM Abiy’s extensive cull nor Sudanese military council’s modest targeted purge constitute a fundamental dismantling of the structures of the security state. More important, the transitions under way in the two countries, were, in the initial phases, at least, top-down attempts by the security state to engineer a soft landing with minimal disruptions.
PM Abiy’s singular act of genius lay in the way he deftly subverted that strategy of piecemeal reform assigned to him by the ruling party and began almost single-handedly to unravel old Ethiopia at break-neck speed.
The retreat of the authoritarian order in both cases opens huge possibilities: a generational opportunity for meaningful and positive change but also great risks.
In Ethiopia, a year of “deep” reforms under the reformist Premier Abiy Ahmed has put the transition on a rocky but relatively steady positive trajectory. Overall prospects for good governance, civil liberties and human rights continue to improve.
In Sudan, the situation is less hopeful and remains, so far, uncertain. The hopes and expectations raised by the resignation of Omar al-Bashir after 30 years in power, now grates against the reality of a potentially messy and protracted transition following a controversial intervention by the army. The Transition Military Council (TMC), made up of Bashir’s allies, is struggling against mounting popular discontent to manage an interregnum.
The Horn is at strategic crossroads. There is immense hope but also great fear. How Ethiopia and Sudan manage their fraught transitions and the prospects for success and reversal remain unknown. What is not in doubt is that a botched transition in both nations will crush the dream of millions and their quest for liberty and better quality of life; embolden autocratic regimes and vindicate their ideology of stability.
The unprecedented upheaval and ferment in the two Horn states provide an extraordinary window into the complex, diverse, and obscure changes and currents shaking up society and traditional politics. These contextual dynamics must not be overlooked in the analyses of Ethiopia and Sudan.
Sudan’s Turbulent Interregnum
Sudan and Ethiopia offer two fraught transition “models”; atypical, unstable and potentially reversible. While dissimilar in some key aspects, both are attempts at a top-down fix, reliant on continued goodwill and support of the military/security services and dominant parties. More important, the two transitions are not outcomes of a political and constitutional settlements and likely to remain contested and unsettled for some time.
Sudan’s transition is in its infancy and dogged by a host of challenges. Of the two, it is the one with the greatest potential for short-term crisis, but, if successful, one that opens enormous possibilities for improved governance and stability.
Formal, direct talks between Sudan’s protest movement and the military began on 27 April but quickly hit a snag, barely two days later. The key sticking points: the length of the transition (military wants 2 years; the protest movement favours 4 years – arguing more time was needed to undo the damage of 30 years of misrule); composition of the proposed Sovereign Transition Council (STC) and who should lead it.
On 30 April, the TMC issued a series of controversial and unilateral decisions that escalated the stalemate into a crisis. The council said the STC would be headed by the military; 7 out 10 posts allocated to the military (contrary to SPA’s demand for a 15-member council the bulk of whose members are civilian). It further called on the SPA to dismantle barricades at the Army Command in Khartoum and get protesters off the streets.
The generals have been angling for a longer pre-transition period from the start. This was largely based on the assumption they stood to gain more from the tactical point of view; the SPA had more to lose. But there are other pressing calculations. First, more time allows the TMC to sort out internal divisions. Second, it gives them the leg room to craft and fine-tune its negotiation strategy. Third, it provides the TMC with the opportunity to drag out the process, wear down the pro-democracy movement – the so-called “attrition option” that has served the military well in the past.
The decision by the AU to extend the TMC’s life by three months, is, therefore, a major victory for the military. It now has up to the end of July 2019 to set up an authority to oversee the transition, agree a roadmap with the opposition.
A viable transition roadmap in Sudan depends on consensus between the five distinct actors/constituencies: the street; the leadership of the protest movement; traditional parties; the TMC and support from regional actors. This will not be easy. It is almost certain divergent aims, interests and calculations could prove a major impediment.
Military Council: A Reluctant Reformer
At the heart of Sudan’s chaotic and bitter transition contest; indeed, the crisis of legitimacy/credibility, is the self-appointed TMC. It is made up of senior generals; all beneficiaries of the army purges in the last one decade by Bashir that elevated loyalists to key posts. They eased Bashir out, made a number of significant concessions. but, controversially, stone-walled when it came to the speedy transfer of power to a civilian administration. Significantly, it has so far resisted popular calls for the dismantling of the so-called Deep State (Dawlah-al-Amiqah) – widely perceived as a covert power centre, whose members included senior generals, securocrats and politicians, and which exercised extra-constitutional influence on the state.
What the TMC’s true aims are; its interests and links with the deep state and foreign powers, are all a matter for debate and conjecture. Far less speculative and hazardous, perhaps, is what it isn’t.
The council is essentially a product of a deep crisis within the state – a hastily created crisis-response tool to reassert military influence and manage a fluid political situation. It pulled back from imposing state of emergency; allowed protests to continue; quickly shed unpopular senior ex-regime figures (such as intelligence chief Salah Gosh); released some, not all, political prisoners and reached out to protest leaders – all positive and encouraging steps that demonstrate it has significant agency, is pragmatic and amenable to a political settlement.
Yet, the clumsy nature of the coup, the confusion in the first 48 hours, as well as incoherent pronouncements and policy flip flops since then, point to deep internal frictions. Tactically, this could be an advantage for the coalition leading the protests, potentially giving them greater room to nudge the TMC towards reform and influence the agenda. It could also pose serious challenges in the coming weeks and months, especially if, as some fear, the council becomes opportunistic and capricious and its cohesions becomes more frayed.
But there must be no mistake about the TMC’s politics. Its primary goal is to maintain national “stability”. It views retention of military power, influence and privilege as necessary to achieve that “noble” goal. There is no evidence it shares the democratic aspirations of the majority of the Sudanese people. It is instinctively suspicious of civilians and resistant to the idea of civilian oversight, and, even much less, civilian rule.
Sudan’s military for three decades waged not just war but also engaged in multiple peace processes and political negotiations at local and national levels, involving armed and non-armed civilian opponents. Under Bashir, talks were conducted in the same manner as war was waged. Invariably, three distinct tactics, with roots in war strategy, were deployed to outflank and eviscerate the civilian opposition: accommodation, co-option and containment.
The official discourse and rhetoric surrounding the series of “national dialogues” in train for nearly two decades offers a fascinating glimpse into the appropriation of martial metaphors – a progressive “militarization” of politics. Domestic politics was officially referred to as “jabhat al-daakhiliyah (internal front); political parties were reminded of the value of national cohesion and called upon to help “unify the ranks” (tawhid al-saf); dissidents were “cat’s paw” (mikhlab qit) of foreign enemies.
Sudan’s protest movement will be negotiating with a military that has set ways of dealing with civilian adversaries. Expectations it is willing to make a strategic and irreversible retreat from politics seems over-optimistic. The TMC’s 30th April pronouncements and the subsequent hardening of language certainly sow doubt about the prospect of that happening any time soon.
The unilateral and escalatory nature of the council’s statement goes against the letter and spirit of the negotiations. It may be a hint of an intense internal power struggle. It could also signal an attempt by hardline factions to assert greater control – a hypothesis lent some credence by the fact it was the TMC’s second in command Gen Muhammad Hamdan Dagalo aka Hemedti who was personally involved.
Hemedti, the commander of the Rapid Support Forces (RSF – Quwaat al-Da’m al-Sari’), has in recent weeks emerged as the real power within the TMC, playing court to visiting dignitaries and diplomats. His swift maneuvers to consolidate power within the military and security services is anything but coincidental. He was for example “elevated” to a “member” of the National Intelligence and Security Service (official SUNA news agency dispatch said he was now “uzw” – a “member” of NISS – a vague term that is both odd and inexplicable) at a low-key event in Khartoum in late April.
The RSF itself is affiliated to the NISS since it was established in 2013 from the rump of the Janjaweed militia and one would assume Hemedti as commander would be a “member” of the intelligence and security service.
The original force, roughly 7,000, was drawn mainly from Hemedti’s own Rizaygat tribe in Darfur (an important factor in itself that partly explains its strong internal cohesion and loyalty to Hemedti). It has a complicated dual command chain; answerable to both the NISS DG and the regular Army General Command. Bashir increasingly relied on the RSF and the Popular Police Forces in recent years to quell social unrest and low-level armed insurrections. The bulk of the RSF is now fighting in Yemen alongside Emirati troops, a decision based on RSF’s perceived counterinsurgency competence/adaptability to the Yemeni battlefield conditions.
Hemedti is young, ambitious and has powerful Gulf friends keen to see him play an influential role in the transition. He has a fearsome reputation, deemed both an able battle field commander and skillful political operator. His rise to prominence since Bashir’s ouster and high visibility within the TMC suggest a resurgence of hardline elements keen not to cede too much ground to the protest movement.
Old Parties, Protest Movement
Sudan’s bewildering array of political parties, weakened and deeply fragmented, and caught off-guard by the protests, seem keen to be included in the transition talks. The TMC initially seemed to prefer a broad-based dialogue, in part, because that could have neutralized the weight of the protest movement. It has since walked back and proposed a format that significantly shortened list of participants, not least, because of the risks of an unwieldy and fractious dialogue process impossible to conclude within the short time-frame it now has (three months).
Sudan’s protest movement and its leadership hold the initiative in the contest to shape the transition. The call for freedom, justice and peace (emblazoned on every placard) gelled a fragmented nation and triggered the Horn’s most powerful and unprecedented mass protest movements. The expectations are high and the road to achieving them daunting.
The risk of fragmentation within the protest movement is high. It is now made up of two distinct groups: Quwaa I’laan al-Huriyyat wal Tagyiir (Declaration of Freedom and Change Forces) and the Sudanese Professionals Association (Tajamm’u al-Mihniyiin al-Sudaniyin). They are now broadly aligned in their demands. TMC co-option strategies and the attrition of protracted negotiation highly likely to sow division.
The SPA and the DFCF have so far done a remarkable job in leading a cohesive, disciplined and non-violent mass protest movement. They must not sell themselves short in the delicate negotiations now under way. They must safeguard their cohesion, eschew personal ambition, remain vigilant against the familiar co-option “traps”, stay resilient and focused in the face of setbacks, and hard-nosed at every phase of the negotiations.
Ethiopia’s Rocky Transition
Ethiopia’s transition is the outcome of two severe crises that shook the regime to the core – over four years of relentless mass protests in Oromiya and Amhara regional states and a sharp economic downturn. The EPRD – the coalition of four ethno-regional parties that dominated politics since the early 90s – played a central role in the transition, engineered Abiy Ahmed’s rise.
It started off well in the early years, combining a reformist zeal with an accommodative approach to politics. Its fortunes for over two decades was tied to that of the charismatic and talented Meles Zenawi. Its owes its structural and organizational resilience; more importantly, its internal consensus-style ethos to him. The aftermath of the controversial elections in 2005 and massive crackdowns on protests ushered in a long period of repression, deflected the party from its democratic goals, and progressively strengthened the hegemony of the TPLF. But even in its weakened state, the EPRD proved its dependability as an instrument of crisis management at critical junctures. It engineered a smooth transition of power after the death of Meles in August 2012, leaned on Hailemariam to resign as PM in February 2018.
Abiy capitalized on the party’s internal institutional strength, exploited the antipathy to the TPLF to build the tactical alliances necessary to seal his victory at the EPRDF Congress in February 2018.
Ironically, Abiy’s radical reforms, in particular, the planned swift transition to a conventional multi-party system, makes the future of the governing coalition perilous and uncertain. While the PM has orchestrated changes within the EPRDF and consolidated his grip over his own Oromo Democratic Party (ODP), many suspect the era of the dominant vanguard party may be coming to a close.
Significantly, the PM has relied on a close-knit circle of politicians and inexperienced advisers to drive his fast-paced reforms, with minimal or no input from the EPRD and other key institutions.
The benefits of a personalized elite-driven reform seem obvious. Abiy, arguably, needed the latitude and flexibility it provides to push through a raft of “deep reforms” and swiftly dismantle key pillars of TPLF power in the military, security services and economy.
The potential drawbacks of a highly personalized leadership style and an elite-driven reform process, lacking sufficient institutional buy-in and support, must be obvious. It is inherently risky, alienates the very agencies indispensable to implementation and long-term sustainability. Understood thus, the risks to reform in Ethiopia seem not so much bureaucratic inertia as bureaucratic recalcitrance. Rumblings of unease within the state and in the parastatals over key aspects of the reforms, from privatization to the future of the ethnic-federalism system, reinforce these fears. The PM, rhetorically, at least, is increasingly aware of this potential problem; stepped up meetings with key departments and pledged to deepen institutional engagement. However, his critics charge the impromptu townhall-style meetings are cosmetic, and do not constitute structured policy dialogue.
Identity politics may act as a catalyst for change, but it’s huge capacity to complicate transitions, foment new unrest must not be ignored. Ethiopia is an egregious example. Aggressive and adversarial strains of ethno-nationalisms, resurgent in recent years, pose grave conflict risks. Many ethnic conflicts are traditionally driven by contested borders and resource competition. Ethno-regionalism/nationalism aggravate these conflicts and make them intractable.
PM Abiy’s stabilization and consolidation efforts have had minimal impact in de-escalating the problem. Balancing multiple and contending ethnic interests proved far trickier than anticipated.
His policy of accommodation to remedy historical injustices, allocate more government posts to marginalized communities and disadvantaged segments of the population, won wider praise but either failed to mollify more militant and younger ethno-nationalist activists clamoring for deeper affirmative action, or reinforced resentment among other ethnicities.
This is particularly the case in Oromiya where factions loyal to the Oromo Liberation Front that view the PM as a “traitor” to the Oromo cause, continue to stoke violence, undermine social cohesion. Several attempts to mediate an end to the ructions in Oromiya and reconcile the rival factions so far have produced shaky truces that failed to hold.
Meanwhile, the PM’s anti-corruption drive and political consolidation strategy, perceived targeted at curbing the influence exerted by the minority Tigrayan ethnic community on the country’s political and economic life, fomented serious backlash. Widely held perception the premier’s new friendship with Eritrean President Isaias Afwerki is partly motivated by a common desire to isolate the TPLF, served to further inflame sentiments in Tigray. The region is now, effectively a mini-state; its relations with Addis Abeba deeply fraught and antagonistic. On-off dialogue between Addis and Mekele and series of high-level meetings in 2018 failed to smooth relations or diminish the potentially dangerous siege mentality developing in Tigray.
The region is where the country’s elite military units are garrisoned and sophisticated heavy military hardware, including air combat assets, kept (a legacy of the border conflict with Eritrea). An armed conflict – highly improbable but impossible to rule out – would be catastrophic.
Economic hardships remain core drivers of social unrest in Sudan and Ethiopia. Conditions for the vast majority of their populations progressively worsened in the last five years. Sudan’s loss of oil revenues in 2012 and subsequent deadlock over oil transshipment fees with South Sudan triggered the country’s severest economic crisis in decades. High inflation, currency turbulence and a series of austerity measures that saw subsidies lifted on bread and other commodities hit the lower classes hard and fomented the mass protests that quickly engulfed the whole country.
In Ethiopia, the crisis was largely induced by the frenetic pace of growth, skewed development, expensive infrastructure mega-projects and dependence on foreign loans (Chinese). Abiy in early 2018 inherited a state that was virtually bankrupt, its foreign exchange reserve depleted and saddled with mounting and unsustainable debt-servicing obligations. An emergency deposit of 1 billion dollars into the treasury by the UAE helped to stabilize the volatile fiscal situation.
The short to medium term prospects look bleak, even though China’s decision to write off some of the debt in late April (figures) and signals of support from multilateral financial institutions, donors promise some relief.
In Sudan, the UAE similarly stepped in to shore up the currency by depositing $500m in the treasury in April 2019. Donors have equally signaled readiness to help.
The gravity of the economic crisis in the two states and the improbability of a quick and dramatic improvement portend huge risks for the transition. Yet, the kind of tangible and irreversible progress in their delicate transitions necessary to unlock donor support and foreign investment hardly exists now and bound to take years, by which time conditions would have deteriorated further.
In Ethiopia, the continued proliferation of ethnic unrest and violence in economically productive regions (that has triggered massive displacement – estimated at 3 million); government inability to get on top of the situation is hugely destabilizing in itself, but also certain to prove a major impediment to new foreign investment.
An emergency financial aid package for Sudan and long-term economic relief and stimulus package for Ethiopia seem the best options for the international community to shore up the transitions.
A Youth Revolt
The uprisings in Ethiopia and Sudan constitute the Horn’s first uniquely large-scale youth revolt; the first political coming-of-age of two youth generations embittered by economic hardship and the inequities of the “hard state”.
Ethiopia, with over 70% of the population (out of a total of 110 million) under 30; and Sudan with 60% of the population (42.5 million) under the age of 25, are examples of states where the demographic shift has been at its most starkest – reflecting both the promise and destabilizing potential of the so-called youth bulge.
Two distinct but complimentary historical trends converged in the Horn protests: a massive demographic shift that progressively moved the youth to the centre of politics; a technological revolution that provided them with the tools to effectively resist and organize.
The sheer demographic weight; the volatility and restless energy unleashed by these changes cannot be ignored. The long-term viability and sustainability of the transitions hinges on how the disruptive impact of the youth bulge is managed.
The recurrent themes of the protests are familiar; revolve around a set of socio-economic grievances that cut across the age-divide: jobs and better wages, economic growth, opportunities and autonomy, better services.
Sudan’s unemployment rate estimated around 21.4% or over two million of the productive labor force (21 million).
Social Media, Diaspora
The protest movements in Ethiopia and Sudan are beneficiaries of the digital revolution, effectively harnessing the power of the smartphone and social media (Facebook, Twitter, WhatsApp) to challenge the regimes in power. These tools allowed them to organize, break state’s monopoly over information, generate their own multimedia content. In the contest for narrative space, the state was severely disadvantaged. Its power of monopoly over communication (and access to sophisticated cyber-spying software) was offset by the technical savvy and ingenuity of the protesters. Frequent communication shutdowns that targeted SMS, Internet access, proved ineffective. Protesters used VPNs, encrypted messaging apps and relied on diaspora supporters to bypass state censorship. Diaspora support in both instances was crucial; and went beyond amplifying social media messages. Activists in North America and Europe mobilized funds, organized pickets and petitions, highlighted rights abuses, raised the profile of these protests at the international stage.
The Oromo diaspora in the US, close-knit and with its own influential media outlets, played a particularly pivotal role – a role recognized by PM Abiy himself when he made a “thanksgiving” tour of the US in 2018. A number of high-profile exiled figures have since been given high-level posts in the Ethiopian government.
Diaspora influence and power has not been without controversy, especially in Ethiopia. There have been claims hardline activists and media disseminated fake news and inflammatory messages to stoke ethnic hostility and division. In Sudan, there is speculation (probably fueled by the military) the diaspora is inciting intransigence and radicalizing the protest movement.
The transition in Ethiopia has brought to the fore the simmering tensions between political classes inside the country and those abroad. Growing intra-Oromo divisions partly reflect both the type of rivalries, political divergence and clash of ambitions that could complicate the transition. A fracturing of the protest movement’s core support base remains a potential risks inherent in a delicate transition such as Ethiopia’s but also that in Sudan. The Sudanese reform movement has, so far, stayed remarkably cohesive. That unity is almost certain to come under great strain, especially in the highly likely scenario of protracted and intensely contested transition. The Transition Military Council favors a fragmented and weak opposition. All the signs indicate that is an outcome it is actively working to achieve.
Sudan and Ethiopia are similar in a variety of ways. They are the Horn’s most diverse states with a combined total of 99 major ethnic groups, and over 200 languages and dialects. They still remain geographically vast and unwieldy, even after secessionist wars and peace settlements led to a partition that diminished their original size. Both share a long history of multiple armed conflicts, vast, ill-governed and severely underdeveloped peripheries – conditions that incubated volatile forms of identity politics, insurrections and social unrest.
Both also experimented with decentralization models designed to foster self-rule, greater autonomy. Neither Ethiopia’s radical ethnic federal system nor Sudan’s conventional one achieved the desired aims. Instead, they replicated the ills of the central state, bred their own inequities, inflamed ethno-regional nationalisms and reinforced core-periphery tensions.
Ethnic identity politics was a potent factor in the Ethiopian mass protests, providing the glue and energy. What is fascinating is not just the complex ways in which group grievances intersect, feed off/bleed into wider discontent, but the subtle, somewhat counter-intuitive ways in which even hitherto antagonistic ethnicities, regions and religious groups managed to cooperate and transcend their differences.
Ethiopia’s mass protests never evolved into a single nationwide movement like Sudan’s. They were almost exclusively confined to Oromiya and Amhara regional states, dominated by two ethnicities divided by a long history of mutual antipathy. Yet, activists in the two regions drew energy, succor from each other’s protests; cross-fertilized and learnt effective protest tactics from one another (for example, Amhara region’s ghost-town tactics that paralyzed cities were replicated in Oromiya). Gradually, a new sense of mutual empathy and solidarity developed between Oromo and Amhara protesters. The seminal moment was when protesters in the two regions chanted “Down Down Woyane”; proof the two distinct ethnic discontents had coalesced into a single national demand.
What tipped the scale was not critical mass (though that was important) but the emergence of a proto-narrative that encapsulated shared national goals.
In Sudan, the protest leadership quickly tapped into and harnessed the vast array of diverse grievances to weave a set of key national objectives. With a comparably freer civic space, well-organized trade union movement and professional associations with a proud tradition of political activism, Sudan’s mass revolt took on a national character much more quickly than in Ethiopia. The rallies in Khartoum reflected the diversity of the nation’s social fabric and remained characterized throughout by a convivial, ecumenical spirit, as remarkable as it is rare.
Identity, Protest And Culture
Sudan achieved in protest what eluded it for decades: a genuine moment of unity in diversity. The protest rallies in Khartoum were a microcosm of the nation – bringing together diverse ethnicities, civic groups drawn from all regions, social strata and professions.
Darfuris, Kordofanis and Nubians, women and other distinct social groups, aggrieved workers and traders – all disenfranchised, rendered powerless and invisible by state policies were catapulted onto the national stage. They all made common cause and rallied around a single political message
But the mass uprisings in Sudan and Ethiopia were more not just animated by political and economic grievances; activists in Sudan actually took slight at media characterization of their protests as “bread riots”. They were also impelled by cultural discontent – a sense of humiliation and anger at the state’s perceived cultural homogenization, discrimination and misogyny.
In Ethiopia, the Oromo unrest was fueled, in part, by long simmering grievances over status of the Oromo language and state interferences in religious affairs; while in Sudan, state-driven Islamization and Arabization remained major sources of social frictions.
The act of protest was in itself psychologically/culturally transformative – providing for opportunity to assert cultural pride and reclaim self-confidence and autonomy.
The Oromo pride movement in Ethiopia and the rise of women in Sudan exemplify the cultural forces shaping the politics of protests and transitions.
PM Abiy’s open embrace, appropriation of Oromo culture and his gender parity campaign are just two examples of the symbolic and practical policy impacts. Hopes are high Sudan’s new breed of assertive female activists could capitalize on the national mood for change, harness their collective picketing power, to influence the transition’s agenda.
No less important, the rallies served as vehicle for collective catharsis and radical empathy; a space to affirm values of mutual interdependence, solidarity, and peaceful co-existence.
The slogan “kuluna Darfur” (we are all Darfur) at the rallies in Khartoum, hopefully, was not just a feel-good empathetic response, but marks a fundamental positive shift in the way communities relate to one another.
Religion as a powerful galvanizer, conduit for protest and repository of moral, ethical values necessary for a just society and government has a long history in the Horn. The protests in Sudan and Ethiopia provide contrasting lessons in the resilience of religion; its potency to inspire and channel protest. But far more interesting, how the debate over relevance of religion in governance continues to evolve.
The Oromo mass insurrection in Ethiopia gestated for many years; fed off diverse, small and localized communal grievances, before it snowballed into a national crisis. The big triggers – high youth unemployment, state-driven land grabs, punitive taxation, repression and violent crackdowns – are well known. Less remarked and examined are the obscure and overlapping cultural and religious roots of the discontent brewing for close to a decade.,
The political rebellion owed much of its resilience and success to the cultural revivalist movement gaining in momentum and influence in recent years. It drew energy, inspiration and self-confidence from the potent message of ethnic pride preached by Oromo elders, Abba Gadda.
Oromo traditional Waqqeffana religion, practiced by a small fraction of the community (roughly less than 5%), played an important complimentary role as a central pillar of cultural expression. Regarded as the indigenous faith of the Oromo nation, its rituals and spiritual teachings deemed ecumenical and non-threatening to believers of other faiths, it progressively galvanized millions. The Irrecha annual festival of harvests, with roots in the Waqqeffana religion, drew tens of thousands, became a visible symbol of political and cultural consciousness; a focal point for the protests.
Series of Muslim unrests in Oromiya in 2012, quickly spread to other regions and continued to simmer for over 18 months. Much of it initially triggered by alleged state interference in Muslim affairs, but quickly aggravated by mass arrests of clerics and community leaders, suspension of Muslim publications (such as Ye’Muslimoch Guday).
The Muslim protests – viewed across Oromiya as evidence of the state’s wider malign intent against the Oromo – thus triggered the first spark that lit the fire of large-scale rebellion in 2014.
Oromo nation’s ability to harness its cultural heritage and multiple faith traditions and foster internal mutual respect and tolerance is unique. So too the tradition of syncretism which indigenized Islam and Christianity and reduced the heat and social frictions generally associated with puritanism and proselytism. This cultural adaptability and inherent resistance to exclusivist manifestations of faith may partly explain why Salafism found Oromiya a less ambient and sympathetic territory to put down roots.
The bid to project this benign and positive face of Oromo culture on the national stage was thwarted by fragmentation and factionalism as well as the political clout exerted by militant factions widely perceived wedded to exclusivist ethnic agenda.
PM Abiy, a practicing Pentecostal with Muslim heritage, represents this hybrid, pluralistic and healthy attitude to religion. While his fervent faith and the occasional unnerving messianic tenor to his speeches raised some concerns, the PM so far has acted with great sensitivity on faith matters. He released detained Muslim leaders; appointed record numbers to key state posts; reached out to the Orthodox Church.
Abiy’s medemer philosophy – based on values of love, compassion and solidarity in the New Testament – does not signal intent to “Christianize”, or change the strong secular character of the state. The primary motive is to create a unifying principle around which the nation can rally.
The rise of evangelical churches and their aggressive proselytization remains a source of anxiety within the influential Orthodox Church. But the greatest threat to religious harmony stems from ethnic conflict. Inter-communal violence in troubled pockets of the country in the last one year exacerbated religious tensions and triggered attacks on mosques and churches.
Sudan: Islam In Transition
A striking feature of Sudan’s protest movement is the near-total absence of Islamist slogans and the emergence of a more assertive youthful female activists; keen to raise their visibility, subvert the strict dress code and claw back the “huquq al-mar’a al-maqsub” (usurped fundamental rights of women). The language and tone of discourse is deliberately non-confessional. These two complimentary dynamics lend a mildly secular character to the uprising. For the first time in three decades, Islam is no longer a contentious subject for its young. But we ought to be careful in not drawing hasty conclusions. More important, we must avoid the binary secular-religious mindset, prism in analyzing events in Sudan.
That the battle over Sudan’s future is being waged over traditional secular issues – liberty, justice and “bread-and-butter” issues – is emblematic, not so much of a society that is becoming secular, but one deeply disillusioned with the brand of Islamization advocated by Hassan al-Turabi and enforced by Bashir for three decades.
Sudan’s young are rejecting the politicized Islam that underpinned Bashir’s quasi-Islamic state and the stifling social conservatism fostered by its intrusive policies.
Put differently, what we are seeing in Sudan is the early sign of a society that is self-correcting – seeking both to restore “health” to Islam and return it to its traditional orbit/sphere.
It is not yet clear who the secularists are in Sudan’s transition. No group has so far articulated what one might call a clear secular agenda. It is conceivable some in the protest movement, traditional Left-leaning parties (that played a big role in the protests) and even elements in the TMC opposed to Islamism may make common cause and lock out Islamists from the transition.
Whether all these diverse anti-Islamist “stakeholders” can agree on a common strategy to address the issue of Islam and state is hard to tell.
An aggressive “enclavement” strategy that criminalizes Islamism, locks Islamists out is certain to prove hugely destabilizing. It risks driving Islamists underground and bound to incubate the same toxic type of militancy and violence familiar in many parts of the Muslim world.
Sudan’s best hope to achieve a viable and sustainable transition lays in a policy of accommodation that is genuinely inclusive. Islamist parties are predominantly moderate and including them in the tent has potential to lock them into the broader reform process, temper their politics and progressively isolate the more militant groups.
The controversial intervention in Sudan’s transition in recent weeks by Gulf actors (principally UAE and KSA), ostensibly, aimed at preventing the Muslim Brotherhood from staging a comeback, is both ill-advised and dangerous.
First, there isn’t the kind of cohesive, highly-organized Islamist opposition able to, single-handedly, gain dominance. Second, the TMC cannot be a guarantor of long-term stability nor can it serve as an effective bulwark against Islamism. Third, and assuming they cared to look deeper at the uprising and the social-political trends, they would have realized the depth of disillusionment with Islamist politics and generally with all traditional politics and parties.
Finally, the Saudi/Emirati axis’s meddling alienates huge segments of society and counter-productive to their twin strategic goals: maintaining Sudanese troops in Yemen and isolating the Muslim Brotherhood.