Ethiopia needs a peace coalition to underpin its new accord with Tigray People’s Liberation Front

After a devastating two-year civil war, the Ethiopian government and Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) signed a cessation of hostilities agreement on 2 November. The war killed over 500,000 people and displaced millions. 

But the agreement still hasn’t received universal support across the Ethiopian political elite and their constituencies. A commitment to peace among these groups is as important as that of the government and the TPLF. Securing it could ease the implementation of potential sticking points in the peace agreement such as disarmament, demobilisation and reintegration.

Gaining this acceptance isn’t guaranteed though, as both signing parties faced substantial opposition to the peace deal in the country and the diaspora. This is partly because, during the war, the two sides effectively mobilised their internal and external constituencies, turning the mainstream media and social media into communication and propaganda battlefields. 

The federal government framed the war as one waged by disgruntled traitors — “a group that relishes in biting its mother’s breast.” This metaphor was reminiscent of the Derg regime’s narrative in its fight against the TPLF and the Eritrean People’s Liberation Front (EPLF), forces that together toppled the regime in 1991. This language by the government was a coded reference to the Derg’s dubbing of the TPLF and EPLF as ‘secessionists’ and ‘secession enablers’. 

During its rule from 1991 to 2018 — before Abiy Ahmed came to power — the TPLF-led Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front had an abysmal record on human rights and democracy. Coupled with the secessionist narrative the public attached to the TPLF, the federal government’s framing of the war as one of ‘national survival’ against ‘traitors’ mobilised a citizen, media and diaspora war coalition. 

The TPLF also used fiery rhetoric to mobilise Tigrayans in Tigray and the diaspora, and build its own war coalition. It defined the federal government as a ‘neo-Derg-administration’ and the conflict as resistance against ‘a genocidal campaign against Tigrayans.’ Given Tigrayans’ traumatic social memory of the Derg regime, these were powerful messages. 

Both parties framed the war with a narrative of animosity and a determination to defeat the opposition. As the fighting raged on, these discourses effectively transformed the conflict into one of identity. 

The geography of the war accentuated this development. The TPLF’s (counter-)offensive against the federal government was directed south of Tigray — in Amhara and Afar. This reignited old rivalries between communities and added another layer to the complicated identity conflict. By then, the clashes were no longer between the TPLF and the federal government alone; they were perceived and communicated as a horizontal inter-group identity conflict of survival.

The peace agreement came when the ‘enemy discourse’ was rampant, and the ‘war coalition’ of both parties was extremely mobilised. For the deal to succeed and lay the foundation for durable peace, the signing parties should build a broader peace coalition, especially in the Tigray, Amhara and Afar regions. 

Provisions in the agreement for disarmament, demobilisation and reintegration and the resolution of conflicts over territory are two key issues that must be dealt with to begin building a peace coalition. 

A good place to start would be breaking the toxic cycle of ‘security dilemmas’. This refers to the militarisation of conflicted groups who believe their security can only be provided by ‘local forces’. This thinking was induced by mutual fear and suspicion among warring parties in the country's north, and is exacerbated by old territorial claims and border disputes. The militarisation of ‘TPLF combatants’ and the violent territorial clashes in the Tigray and Amhara regions show this dilemma.