In the search for national unity, beginning with grievances may have been the fundamental error

By Kebour Ghenna*

ADDIS ABABA, ETHIOPIA — After three years of consultations across Ethiopia and among the diaspora, the National Dialogue has finally reached the stage of discussing the country’s most difficult political questions. The national flag. Its symbols. The future constitutional order. Whether Ethiopia should retain a parliamentary system or adopt a presidential one. Who should exercise authority over Addis Ababa. Federalism. Identity. History. Power.

These are undoubtedly important questions. They are also precisely the questions on which Ethiopians disagree most profoundly. That is why one cannot help wondering whether the Dialogue began with the wrong first question.

Instead of asking, “What future do Ethiopians wish to build together?” the process appears to have begun by asking, “What divides Ethiopians?”

The Philosophy of Disagreement

There is an old observation in political philosophy that nations are not held together by constitutions, flags, or institutions alone. They survive because people continue choosing a common future despite their disagreements. That choice must come before constitutional design—not after it. Unfortunately, the Dialogue appears to have reversed that order.

The philosophy behind the Dialogue seems straightforward: identify every important national dispute, bring representatives together, discuss each issue, and eventually consensus will emerge.

It is an attractive theory. History, however, is less optimistic. People rarely discover unity by beginning with their deepest disagreements. More often, they become better at defending them. A discussion that begins with competing historical narratives usually ends with more refined historical narratives. A discussion that begins with competing constitutional visions usually ends with better-articulated constitutional disagreements. The participants leave having understood one another better—but they do not necessarily trust one another more. Listening is not the same as nation-building.

The Missing Conversation

Perhaps the first phase of the Dialogue should not have collected grievances. Perhaps it should have collected aspirations.

Imagine asking every Ethiopian, regardless of ethnicity, political affiliation, or ideology, only three questions:

1. Why should Ethiopia continue to exist as one country?
2. What future can we build together that none of us can build separately?
3. What am I prepared to sacrifice—not demand—for that common future?

Notice what disappears. The flag disappears. Addis Ababa disappears. Federalism disappears. Not because they are unimportant—but because they become second-order questions. The conversation shifts from ownership to purpose, from rights to responsibilities, from yesterday to tomorrow. Only after establishing a shared destination should a nation begin arguing about the road that leads there.

The Problem of Absence

There is another difficulty. A dialogue derives legitimacy not simply from those who participate but also from those whose participation is indispensable. Many prominent opposition figures remain outside the process. Some are imprisoned. Some are in exile. Others are engaged in armed insurgency. Many influential intellectuals and political actors who advocate fundamentally different visions of Ethiopia’s future do not regard the Dialogue as their own.

Whether one agrees with their positions is almost beside the point. A national dialogue cannot ultimately become national if significant sections of the political nation remain unconvinced by it. Peace is rarely negotiated among those who already agree. It is negotiated among those who fundamentally distrust one another. The harder the conversation, the more important it becomes that every consequential voice sees itself inside the room rather than outside it.

A Nation Is More Than an Agenda

One sometimes has the impression that the Dialogue is attempting to build a nation by assembling an agenda. But nations are not built that way. An agenda is a list of problems. A nation is a shared act of imagination. People do not remain together because every disagreement has been resolved. No nation has ever achieved that. They remain together because they eventually conclude that their common future is more valuable than their separate grievances. That is a political decision before it is a constitutional one.

What History Will Remember

History will not remember how many consultations were conducted, nor how many agenda items were collected, nor how many reports were produced. It will remember only one thing: Did the Dialogue strengthen Ethiopia’s sense of common nationhood? Or did it simply organise Ethiopia’s disagreements more effectively?

There is a profound difference. If Ethiopians leave the Dialogue asking, “Which of our disputes remain unresolved?” the Commission will have organised an impressive national debate. If they leave asking, “What future can we now build together?” it will have done something infinitely more important. It will have begun rebuilding a nation.

That, perhaps, was the question with which the Dialogue should have begun.

“Nations are not held together by constitutions, flags or institutions alone. They survive because people continue choosing a common future despite their disagreements. That choice must come before constitutional design. Not after it.”

*The above feature is based on the reflection of Kebour Ghenna who continued to contribute to Ethiopia’s public discourse.