By BRONWYN BRUTON
Bronwyn Bruton is deputy director of the Africa Center at the Atlantic Council.
John Kerry’s hastily announced trip to Africa last week is something of an occasion: It’s the first time he has set foot in sub-Saharan Africa as secretary of state aside from a brief visit just to Addis Ababa in May 2013.
But the abruptness of the trip—announced barely half a week before Kerry’s departure and conveniently timed to fill a scheduling gap caused by an unmet end-of-April deadline in the Israeli-Palestinian peace talks—is hardly the most troubling part of Kerry’s visit. Far less forgivable is his decision to honor Ethiopia, a country that widely persecutes dissidents, with another visit, and the first on this trip. Kerry’s remarks in Ethiopia included long-overdue public comments on the sorry state of democratic and human rights in the country. But the secretary made clear that the United States is more concerned about strengthening ties with Ethiopia—a repressive regime that Washington nonetheless relies on as its primary strategic partner in the region.
U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry shakes hands with Ethiopian Prime Minister Hailemariam at the beginning of a meeting in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia on May 1, 2014. [State Department photo/ Public Domain]
The State Department announced a confusing range of objectives for Kerry’s visit to Africa: to encourage democratic development; promote respect for human rights; advance peace and security; engage with civil society and young African leaders; and promote trade, investment and development partnerships in Africa. In pursuit of these goals, Kerry spent two days in Ethiopia, convening an African Union summit and meeting several regional heads of state. Before heading to the conflict-ridden Democratic Republic of Congo and southern economic powerhouse Angola, he made a previously unannounced visit on Thursday to South Sudan. His remarks about the possibility of genocide in the country will likely eclipse the rest of his visit to the continent—unsurprisingly, perhaps, as Washington’s desire to resolve the conflicts in South Sudan and Somalia has long overshadowed other interests in Africa, especially human rights and good governance.
American national security interests are not at stake in South Sudan, but reputations are: The nation was created with U.S. assistance in 2011, and until it plunged into violence several months ago, it was one of Washington’s favorite “success” stories. South Sudan’s independence struggle against the genocidal regime in Sudan to the north has been heavily romanticized by American activists, even George Clooney. Having invested so heavily in South Sudan’s creation, Washington now feels responsible for its successes and failures. In Somalia, meanwhile, the United States has been deeply worried by terrorism threats, especially since 2006, and has spent time and treasure launching a new government and a host of African troops to protect it.
Both countries deserve Kerry’s attention and American engagement. But Washington’s apparent eagerness to resolve these two crises—while at the same time cutting costs and shrinking America’s security footprint on the continent, especially in Somalia—has forced the United States to develop an unholy alliance with one of the region’s most authoritarian regimes: Ethiopia.
Ethiopia used to be one of Africa’s stronger democracies, but ever since disputed elections in 2005, the government has cracked down heavily on civil society, the media, the political opposition and even organized religious groups. Protests over the 2005 elections ended when the government arrested thousands of peaceful demonstrators, charging hundreds of opposition leaders and journalists with treason. Since then, the government has implemented laws that criminalize social advocacy by “foreigners” (including Ethiopian charities that receive donations from abroad); imposed draconian restrictions on the press (even copy shops can be fined ruinous amounts for printing articles that criticize the government); and enforced such a broad definition of “terrorism,” under a 2009 proclamation, that the mere act of blocking traffic during a peaceful street protest can be punishable by the death penalty.
That anti-terror proclamation has been used to arrest scores of peaceful Muslim demonstrators. Just two days before Kerry’s arrival in Addis Ababa, nine prominent journalists and bloggers were arrested in Ethiopia, apparently for the crime of collaborating with foreign human rights groups; they are being held incommunicado. An uncounted number of other journalists and political activists are already in jail. In March, seven female marathon runners were arrested simply for shouting their support of those incarcerated by the regime. Not to mention that Ethiopia has also been accused of mass human rights violations in its eastern Ogaden region, of using torture in its prisons and of withholding food and humanitarian relief from opposition supporters. This repression has been extraordinarily effective: During the country’s 2012 elections, the ruling party won 546 out of 547 seats in the federal parliament.
But that same year, Ethiopia was among the top 10 recipients of U.S. foreign aid, receiving $580 million in development, humanitarian relief and health programs. (In 2013, Ethiopia fell off of the top 10 list, thanks to a $200 million cut to AIDS programsand other health funding; Kerry devoted part of his time in Ethiopia to praising what remains of those programs.) Washington’s massive underwriting of the Ethiopian state’s budget has kept the government afloat for years. Foreign donations account for at least 50 to 60 percent of the country’s $8.5 billion budget, with the United States as the second-largest donor after China. Until very recently, only a tiny fraction of that funding has gone directly to the military. But development and humanitarian contributions allow the ruling party to direct the bulk of its discretionary, domestic revenues (money that would otherwise have to be spent on social services like schools and hospitals) to military spending. As a result, Ethiopia has the largest and most sophisticated security apparatus in sub-Saharan Africa, and it maintains one of the largest and best-trained militaries on the continent.
Even as Addis Ababa uses its security apparatus to intimidate its own population, it is pursuing American national security interests in the region. Ethiopia has repeatedly launched its military into Somalia, most recently contributing more than 4,000 troops to the African Union peacekeeping mission there, in addition to deploying peacekeepers to Darfur. Ethiopia’s prime minister has also been the primary host and broker of peace talks between the combatants in South Sudan. But Ethiopian “peacekeeping” efforts have not always been so peaceful: The country’s brutal invasion and occupation of Somalia from December 2006 to January 2009 triggered a violent local backlash that in turn propelled the al Qadea-linked al Shabaab to power in Mogadishu, and there were reports at the time of Ethiopian soldiers systemic raping Somali women, among a host of other human rights abuses.
Still, policymakers in Washington have long leaned on Ethiopia’s military support in the region. When it comes to security in East Africa, Kerry said in Addis Ababa, “Ethiopia plays such an essential role—a key role, a leadership role—and we’re very, very grateful for that.” In a more or less direct quid pro quo, however, Washington has turned a blind eye to Addis Ababa’s human rights abuses. Concerns about the shrinking democratic space in the country or the torture of opposition members have largely been voiced in private, behind closed doors—producing a silence that has cemented a strong regional perception that Washington cares more about counterterrorism than it does about democracy or human rights.
Perhaps the best evidence of this to date is America’s willingness to foot the bill for Ethiopia’s participation in the African Union peacekeeping mission in Somalia, despite Ethiopia’s chilling record of prior human rights abuses in that country. Because Ethiopia just joined the mission this past January, it’s not yet clear how much bilateral aid the United States is giving Ethiopia to support its participation. But if the amount is consistent with the aid packages provided to Kenya, Uganda and Burundi for their troop contributions to the mission, Ethiopia can expect to receive tens of millions of dollars in direct military support from Washington, in the form of weapons, cash and training.
Thankfully, discomfort with the Ethiopian partnership is slowly growing, and Kerry’s visit is evidence of that. In a press conference in Addis Ababa on Thursday, he finally did what human rights activists have been demanding for some time: publically criticizing the human rights record of the regime—even mentioning the incarcerated political blogger Natnail Feleke by name and defending the right of journalists to criticize the regime. Still, most of his comments extolled Ethiopia’s economic growth and its peacemaking efforts in the region. A strong commercial partnership with the United States, Kerry said, “helps to provide the capacity for Ethiopia to be able to lead in some of the other initiatives that are so critical to stability in the region.”
Most important, Kerry actively extended his first press briefing in Addis Ababa for a question that gave him an opening to reinforce his human rights message. “When I stand up in public,” he said, “the fact that I’m doing that is serious.”
He’s right. If Kerry is signaling his intention to be openly critical of the Ethiopian government’s human rights from this stage forward, it marks a significant evolution of U.S. policy. But a handful of sentences in the midst of so much financial and political support for the Ethiopian government still seems very little. It is a step in the right direction, if still painfully small.
Source: POLITICO MAGAZINE
