Let me start with something that should be clear: I am not writing this to defend Abiy Ahmed.

Ethiopia is not doing well. We have been through war, displacement, political repression, ethnic violence, economic hardship and an incredible amount of mistrust. People have every right to be angry with this government. I am angry too.

But I don’t have to choose between Abiy Ahmed and the destruction of Ethiopia.

That is where my problem with Tsimdo begins.

When I look at the groups and interests coming together against Abiy, I see people who may agree about who their enemy is today, but I don’t see agreement about what Ethiopia should look like tomorrow.

And that matters more than defeating Abiy.

Because Abiy will eventually go. Every leader does.

The question is: what will be left after him?

They agree on the enemy. Do they agree on the country?

This is the question I keep coming back to whenever I think about Tsimdo.

Suppose they succeed.

Suppose Abiy is gone and the federal government collapses or becomes too weak to control the country.

Then what?

Who takes Addis Ababa? Who controls the military? Who controls the federal institutions? Who controls the borders?

And more importantly, do the people who cooperated to defeat Abiy even want the same country afterward?

I don’t think we have an answer to that.

Take the Oromo Liberation Army.

The Oromo liberation struggle did not begin with Abiy Ahmed. It didn’t even begin with the EPRDF. Ideas such as Walabummaa Oromiyaa, Oromo self-determination and what many Oromo nationalists call Kaayyoo Ganamaa have a much longer history.

There are disagreements among Oromo nationalists about what self-determination should ultimately mean. It would be unfair to pretend every Oromo nationalist wants an independent Oromia. That isn’t true.

But it would be equally dishonest to pretend the independence question doesn’t exist.

It does.

So if an armed movement coming from that political tradition joins an alliance whose immediate objective is defeating Addis Ababa, I want to know what happens afterward.

Is the objective a democratic Ethiopia?

A different federation?

A confederation?

Or eventually an independent Oromia?

These aren’t small details we can figure out after the war. These are the questions that determine whether there will be another war.

Then there is Tigray.

I think something fundamental changed in Tigray after the 2020–2022 war.

The Pretoria Agreement formally committed the TPLF to Ethiopia’s sovereignty and territorial integrity. So I don’t think it is accurate to simply say, “TPLF has officially decided to create an independent Tigray.” That goes beyond what we can prove.

But anybody following Tigrayan politics can see that the question of Tigray’s future relationship with Ethiopia is much more serious today than it was before the war.

There are Tigrayan political organizations openly advocating independence. There are also Tigrayans who still believe their future is inside Ethiopia.

And there is another argument that I think deserves attention.

When the TPLF-led EPRDF defeated the Derg in 1991, it had the military capacity to stop in Tigray and pursue a separate state. Instead, it marched to Addis Ababa and became the dominant force governing Ethiopia.

After what happened between Tigray and the federal government three decades later, it is not difficult to imagine some Tigrayan nationalists looking backward and asking: Was that the mistake?

Maybe, in their view, Tigray should have taken independence when it had the chance.

I am not saying that this is the official TPLF position. I am saying that the war has made that question politically relevant in a way Ethiopians should not ignore.

And if significant forces in Tigray eventually conclude that an independent Tigray is their safest future, then a strong Ethiopian state and their political objective begin pulling in opposite directions.

This is where the Somaliland comparison becomes tempting.

If Somalia collapses and Somaliland can build a relatively stable state from part of the former country, perhaps someone could imagine Tigray doing something similar.

But there is another side of the Somaliland story that we shouldn’t conveniently forget.

Somalia.

The collapse came first.

Decades of war, militias, competing governments, disputed territories, foreign intervention and millions of ordinary people paying the price came with it.

There is no law saying that when Ethiopia collapses, everybody peacefully walks back to their ethnic region, draws a border, raises a flag and becomes Singapore.

It could be Somaliland.

It could also be Somalia.

And in reality it could be much worse, because Ethiopia’s ethnic populations do not live inside perfectly separated boxes.

Then we have Fano

Fano is different.

I don’t see a serious separatist objective there. In fact, much of Fano’s political language is strongly Ethiopian nationalist.

But that doesn’t automatically solve the problem.

Modern Fano organization existed before the current war with the federal government. The Amhara protest movement and territorial disputes were already developing during the EPRDF period.

Today Fano is a powerful armed movement, but I still struggle to identify one clear, commonly accepted political program telling us what Ethiopia looks like if Fano wins.

Protect Amhara people? Absolutely understandable.

Fight political marginalization? Fine.

Resolve territorial disputes? Then tell us how.

Remove Abiy? Okay.

And then what?

Taking Arat Kilo is not a political philosophy.

You can capture the palace and still have absolutely no idea how to govern the country.

What happens to ethnic federalism? What replaces the current constitution? What happens to regional autonomy? What happens to minorities inside Amhara Region? What happens to Amhara communities outside it? What happens to the territorial dispute with Tigray?

What happens when your temporary Tigrayan allies say Western Tigray belongs to them and your fighters say Welkait belongs to Amhara?

You cannot shoot your way through those questions.

Eventually politics has to answer them.

And this is precisely why I don’t understand the excitement about bringing these forces together without first answering what they are actually coming together for.

We know what they are against.

That isn’t enough.

Eritrea is playing a completely different game

Eritrea is not an Ethiopian opposition movement.

Eritrea is a sovereign country pursuing what it believes to be its own national interest.

And Ethiopia’s renewed discussion about the Red Sea changes the calculation dramatically.

Abiy Ahmed may never be able to acquire Assab. Maybe no Ethiopian government will.

But the issue itself has returned to Ethiopian politics.

And once an issue like that returns, Eritrean leaders cannot simply assume it disappears when Abiy disappears.

The next Ethiopian prime minister may raise it. The president after that may raise it. Ten or twenty years from now, another generation may raise it.

So put yourself, for a moment, in the position of an Eritrean strategist.

Which Ethiopia worries you more?

An Ethiopia constantly fighting internally, economically exhausted and divided among competing armed groups?

Or an Ethiopia of more than 100 million people that becomes politically stable, economically strong and capable of projecting military power?

That doesn’t prove Eritrea has a master plan to destroy Ethiopia. We should be careful about making claims we cannot prove.

But countries don’t make foreign policy based on love.

They make it based on interests.

And Eritrea’s national interest is not automatically Ethiopia’s national interest simply because Eritrea and Ethiopian opposition groups happen to share an enemy today.

We should have learned that lesson already.

And Egypt?

The same basic logic applies.

I don’t need a conspiracy theory about Egypt.

I only need to look at the Nile.

GERD demonstrated something important: Ethiopia has the ability, when it has sufficient political stability and resources, to undertake enormous projects on the Nile.

GERD doesn’t necessarily have to be the last one.

From Ethiopia’s perspective, that is development and the right to use its natural resources.

From Egypt’s perspective, upstream Ethiopian power creates a long-term strategic problem.

So again, ask the uncomfortable question.

Which Ethiopia is easier for Egypt to deal with?

A unified, economically powerful Ethiopia capable of financing additional Nile projects?

Or an Ethiopia permanently consumed by internal conflicts, poverty and political fragmentation?

That doesn’t mean every conflict in Ethiopia was created in Cairo. It doesn’t mean every Ethiopian opposition group is an Egyptian proxy.

That kind of thinking prevents us from understanding our own failures.

But it would also be naive to pretend neighboring and regional powers don’t calculate their interests while Ethiopia is tearing itself apart.

Of course they do.

We would do exactly the same thing if we were sitting in their chairs.

This is why Tsimdo worries me

Maybe Tsimdo can defeat Abiy.

That isn’t the question I am asking.

My question is what happens if it succeeds.

Because I can imagine an alliance surviving while everybody has the same enemy.

What I cannot easily imagine is how that alliance survives the morning after victory.

The Oromo question immediately returns. The Tigray question returns. Welkait returns. The constitutional question returns. The Eritrean question returns. The Nile question remains.

And now thousands of heavily armed people who were temporarily allies have to decide who controls what.

That is not a transition plan.

That is potentially the beginning of the next war.

Maybe several wars.

And there is another assumption in Ethiopian politics that scares me even more: that somehow the country can collapse neatly.

It won’t.

People seem to imagine Ethiopia breaking apart like pieces of Lego.

Oromia goes here. Amhara goes there. Tigray goes there. Somali goes there. Everybody gets a flag and we all go home.

Look at the actual population map. Look at Addis Ababa. Look at the mixed cities. Look at the disputed borders. Look at communities living outside the regions associated with their ethnic identity. Look at transportation corridors, electricity, water infrastructure, federal property, military bases and national debt.

Then tell me where the clean lines are.

There aren’t any.

The breakup of Ethiopia would not simply create several smaller Ethiopias.

It could create several governments fighting over where one country ends and another begins.

That is how one failed state can become multiple failed states.

I refuse the choice between Abiy and Ethiopia

This is ultimately my position.

I am not happy with Abiy Ahmed’s government.

I don’t think Ethiopians should accept repression, war, corruption or bad governance because they are frightened about what might replace him.

But I also refuse the argument that because the current government is bad, anybody fighting it automatically becomes good for Ethiopia.

That logic is dangerous.

Before I support an opposition alliance, I want something more substantial than: “First let’s remove Abiy.”

No. Tell me what happens next.

Tell me what your Ethiopia looks like.

Tell me whether Ethiopia even exists in your plan.

Tell me how you settle the Amhara-Tigray territorial dispute.

Tell me what Oromo self-determination means under your political settlement.

Tell me what constitution replaces the current one.

Tell me how armed groups become political organizations.

Tell me who controls the military.

Tell me how minorities are protected.

Tell me what role Eritrea has in all of this.

Tell me how you prevent yesterday’s allies from becoming tomorrow’s enemies.

Then we can have a serious conversation.

Because Ethiopia has already tried politics based on “we will solve that later.”

Later always comes.

And ordinary people usually pay the bill.

That is why I cannot see Tsimdo, at least in its current form, as the answer to Ethiopia’s crisis.

Maybe it is an effective alliance against Abiy Ahmed.

But being against someone is not a vision for a country.

Ethiopia needs political change. It needs accountability. It needs a serious national conversation about federalism, identity, historical grievances, regional autonomy and the limits of central power.

It may even need fundamental constitutional change.

But destroying the state before agreeing on what replaces it is not reform.

It is gambling with the country.

And the stakes are far bigger than Abiy Ahmed, TPLF, OLA, Fano or any politician alive today.

Governments come and go. Political parties come and go. Leaders come and go.

The country is what our children inherit.

So no, I don’t have to support Abiy Ahmed.

And I don’t have to support Tsimdo either.

There is a third position, and I suspect far more Ethiopians hold it than our political debate allows:

Change the government if the people choose to change it. Reform the system where it has failed. Confront the historical questions we have avoided for generations. But don’t burn down Ethiopia in order to save it.

Before anyone asks Ethiopians to support another armed alliance, I want one simple question answered:

If you win, what country will be left for us to live in?

Sources & Further Reading

This commentary distinguishes documented positions from the author’s analysis of incentives, risks, and possible end states.

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