July 21, 2026
Mohamud A. Ahmed – Cagaweyne
Somali Region of Ethiopia
Why Ethiopia Must Judge Its National Dialogue by Results Rather Than Assumptions
A constitutional democracy begins with a discipline that politics too often forgets: judgment must follow evidence. Courts do not convict before hearing testimony, nor do they acquit because of hope, loyalty or sentiment. They examine facts, test competing claims, apply the law and only then reach a verdict.
The same discipline should govern Ethiopia’s National Dialogue.
Since the conference opened in Addis Ababa on July 15, the process has been described in sharply conflicting terms. Supporters have presented it as a historic opening. Critics have portrayed it as political theater, a mechanism for constitutional centralization, or a carefully designed effort to weaken multinational federalism. Somali commentators have warned that the federal protections upon which smaller and historically marginalized communities depend could be renegotiated without adequate consent. Oromo critics have argued that equal regional representation dilutes the demographic weight of the country’s largest constituency and risks converting a numerical minority within the conference into a manufactured national consensus.
These concerns should not be dismissed. But neither should they be treated as conclusions already proved.
The National Dialogue deserves neither reverence nor rejection. It deserves constitutional seriousness.
That means recognizing the scale of the national investment already made, examining the process for procedural weaknesses, correcting credible defects and reserving final judgment until its recommendations and implementation mechanisms are known. A country cannot demand dialogue and then condemn every attempt at dialogue before it has been allowed to produce anything. Nor can the government invoke the language of consultation to shield the process from scrutiny.
The proper position lies between blind confidence and institutional nihilism.
According to the National Dialogue Commission, the process followed roughly four years of consultations extending across more than 1,200 villages and culminated in a conference involving more than 4,000 participants. During that period, thousands of communities were visited directly or reached through structured consultations. Elders, religious leaders, women, young people, civic organizations, professionals, academics, regional representatives and ordinary citizens contributed time, testimony and expectations. Substantial public resources were committed by Ethiopian taxpayers.
That level of effort matters.
It does not prove that every participant was fairly selected. It does not establish that every political organization was adequately represented. It does not guarantee that the decision-making framework is constitutionally balanced. But it does establish that the process is a significant national undertaking and should not be discarded casually.
Years of consultation, months of organization and extensive public expenditure deserve more than a verdict based on political instinct. They deserve a serious hearing.
Even a flawed constitutional process may contain knowledge, grievances, proposals and institutional memory that would otherwise remain scattered across the country. If the first effort does not achieve a durable settlement, the lessons it produces can make a second effort more inclusive, more credible and more successful. Constitutional history is rarely a story of perfection on the first attempt. It is usually a story of negotiation, breakdown, revision and return.
Failure, when honestly studied, is not always futility. The deeper question is what the Dialogue is intended to produce. The official agenda reaches far beyond symbolic reconciliation. It addresses national identity, historical narratives, language, culture, federalism, self-determination, fiscal relations, constitutional interpretation, political representation, regional boundaries, federal cities, human rights, judicial independence, displacement, natural resources, land, pastoral development, corruption, peacebuilding and constitutional amendment.
These are not ordinary policy matters. They concern the architecture of the Ethiopian state.
That is why federalism must remain the constitutional compass of the process.
Federalism is not simply administrative decentralization. It is a covenant among constituent political communities that agree to govern together while retaining meaningful authority to govern themselves. Its legitimacy depends upon a careful balance between self-rule and shared rule, equality among regional states, democratic representation of citizens, protection of minorities and faithful implementation of constitutional guarantees.
Ethiopia’s current debate reveals how difficult that balance is.
The Somali critique fears majoritarian domination. In a political system shaped by large demographic constituencies, constitutional protections such as self-determination, regional autonomy and limits on central authority are seen as safeguards against permanent marginalization. From this perspective, a constitutional process that can revise the federal bargain without the meaningful participation of those most dependent upon it is not reconciliation but insecurity.
The Oromo critique identifies the opposite danger. If every region and city administration receives equal voting weight in a decisive assembly, regardless of population, the country’s largest constituency may feel that its democratic weight has been artificially reduced. Critics have cited a reported 211-member regional representatives’ body, in which each region or city administration receives the same number of seats, and a 70 percent approval threshold. Their concern is that a population numbering tens of millions could be unable either to shape or block decisions touching state structure, identity or the status of Addis Ababa.
Both arguments expose real constitutional tensions.
A system based entirely on population could leave smaller nations and regions vulnerable to permanent majoritarian rule. A system based entirely on equal regional voting could understate the democratic weight of larger populations. Neither principle should be absolute.
A credible federal dialogue must protect two forms of equality at the same time: the equality of citizens and the equality of constituent political communities.
This cannot be achieved through slogans. It requires institutional design.
For foundational constitutional questions, Ethiopia should consider a double-majority or concurrent-consent model. Major decisions should require broad national support, a substantial majority of constituent regions and meaningful consent from the populations or regional institutions directly affected. Questions concerning territorial status, regional boundaries, self-government, identity rights or constitutional guarantees should not be imposed merely because a coalition assembled elsewhere has reached a numerical threshold.
But meaningful consent must be a universal principle, not a privilege reserved for one region.
The same rule that protects Oromia’s constitutional interests in Addis Ababa must protect Somali, Oromo and resident interests in Dire Dawa. The same principle that protects smaller regions from demographic dominance must also protect larger populations from procedural erasure. Constitutional morality loses credibility when it demands consent for one community but treats another community’s consent as optional.
Addis Ababa and Dire Dawa therefore require more than historical assertion or administrative convenience. Both involve competing memories, present-day populations, regional interests, federal responsibilities and constitutional ambiguity. Their status should be addressed through law, evidence, negotiation and democratic legitimacy. Historical attachment should not erase the rights of current residents. Current administration should not erase historical claims. Federal functionality should not become a justification for indefinite constitutional uncertainty.
Complex disputes need constitutional answers.
The debate over representation also requires greater transparency. The Commission should publish, in accessible language, the complete decision-making rules: who holds final authority, how representatives were selected, whether delegates may amend proposals, how minority reports will be recorded, what legal status recommendations will possess, and how constitutional changes, if proposed, would proceed through the lawful amendment process.
If critics have misunderstood the framework, transparency will correct the record. If the framework contains genuine imbalances, transparency will allow them to be repaired.
Public confidence cannot be commanded. It must be earned procedurally.
The absence or withdrawal of important political actors must be acknowledged, but responsibility should be assigned honestly. The Commission cannot compel parties to participate after making reasonable efforts to accommodate them, nor should Ethiopia suspend a national constitutional conversation indefinitely because some actors choose to remain outside it. Their participation would unquestionably have strengthened the process, particularly given the absence of Tigrayan representatives and the limited involvement of major opposition organizations in conflict-affected parts of Oromia and Amhara. Yet nonparticipation alone does not invalidate the voices of the thousands who accepted the invitation to engage. Legitimacy depends not only on who is absent, but also on whether the Commission kept the door open, offered credible opportunities for inclusion, and treated participants fairly. Where access was denied or conditions were unreasonable, the Commission should be held accountable. Where genuine invitations were rejected for political strategy, responsibility rests with those who declined. Ethiopia must continue conferring while preserving a clear and honorable path for absent actors to join later.
Yet nonparticipation also carries responsibilities. Opposition movements cannot insist that dialogue is the only viable path while rejecting every imperfect forum without offering a workable mechanism for re-entry. Governments must open the door wider; opposition groups must explain what credible conditions would allow them to walk through it.
National dialogue cannot succeed if participation becomes a test of surrender. Nor can it succeed if refusal becomes a permanent political identity.
Historical truth presents another danger. Every community enters the process carrying memories of conquest, exclusion, displacement, violence, resistance and survival. Those experiences deserve acknowledgement. But no community’s historical narrative should be elevated beyond examination, and no national unity should be built upon enforced amnesia.
Truth is not the enemy of unity. Monopoly over truth is.
The purpose of dialogue is not to decide which nation suffered most or whose historical interpretation must prevail. It is to create a constitutional order in which different memories can coexist without becoming permanent licenses for hostility.
The same seriousness should govern questions of human rights, judicial independence, displacement, land, natural resources and pastoral livelihoods. These are not secondary matters. They are the daily substance of federalism.
A regional state is not meaningfully autonomous if it lacks fiscal capacity, institutional competence or influence over decisions affecting its land and resources. A citizen is not constitutionally protected if courts are weak, displacement is ignored, or public institutions operate through patronage. Pastoral communities are not included simply because they appear in speeches; their mobility, land access, water systems and economic realities must be reflected in development policy and constitutional administration.
The Dialogue will be judged not merely by how it distributes political authority, but by whether it makes that authority accountable, equitable and usable.
The strongest defense of the process is therefore not that it must succeed. No honest observer can promise that. The strongest defense is that Ethiopia requires an institutional alternative to force, paralysis and perpetual constitutional suspicion.
Dialogue is not evidence that the state has failed. It is evidence that the state still believes disagreement can be governed without violence.
But dialogue becomes credible only when those who convene it are willing to correct its weaknesses. Appreciation for the years of work invested in the process must not become immunity from criticism. Equally, criticism must not become a justification for destroying an institution that can still be improved.
The country should ask clear questions.
Was participation genuinely broad? Were key constituencies unfairly excluded? Do the voting rules balance population and regional equality? Are directly affected communities protected from imposed constitutional changes? Are proceedings transparent? Are minority positions preserved? Will recommendations follow lawful constitutional procedures? Are human rights, judicial independence and federal guarantees treated as binding principles rather than negotiable conveniences?
These are the tests by which the process should be judged.
Not the popularity of the Prime Minister.
Not the influence of the ruling party.
Not the suspicions of the opposition.
Not the expectations of one region.
Governments are temporary. Political parties change. Constitutions remain.
The delegates gathered in Addis Ababa are therefore more than participants in a conference. They are temporary custodians of a federal compact whose durability will depend on whether every community believes the rules apply equally to all.
If the National Dialogue strengthens that belief, it will deserve national recognition. If it exposes weaknesses but leaves behind a clearer path toward a second, better process, it will still have contributed something valuable. If it attempts to impose constitutional change without inclusion, consent or lawful procedure, it will deserve rejection.
But that verdict should follow the evidence.
Ethiopia has already invested years of work, enormous public energy and substantial resources in the search for common ground. That investment should be protected by improving the process, not squandered through premature dismissal or institutional arrogance.
The first attempt may not settle every question.
It may, however, teach the country how to conduct the second.
And nations that retain the courage to return to the table are more likely to build durable constitutional orders than those that abandon dialogue and return to force.
Justice requires evidence before judgment. Federalism requires equality without erasure. Democracy requires consent without paralysis. Ethiopia’s future requires all three.
Mohamud A. Ahmed – Cagaweyne is a columnist, political and security analyst, and researcher at Greenlight Advisors Group, Somali Region of Ethiopia. He can be reached at : +251 900 644 648 or +254 759717898
Editor’s Note: Views in the article do not necessarily reflect the views of borkena.com
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