Reconciliation now

By Shewit Wudassie

The recent piece by Abrar Fitwi in this publication is a welcome addition to the urgent discussion about consensus, dialogue, and reconciliation in Tigray. He correctly points out that internal squabbling has turned into our biggest weakness, undermining the fortitude that once allowed us to overcome insurmountable obstacles. His critique of our proclivity to become mired in the semantic argument between “dialogue” and “reconciliation” is a sound call to action. However, even though I wholeheartedly concur with his diagnosis, I don’t think national reconciliation is a semantically irrelevant outcome to be postponed indefinitely. Instead, it must be integrated as a smooth process for Tigray’s statehood project and future politics.

Reasons for not delaying reconciliation 

In the context of Tigray, reconciliation can be seen as a long-term, inclusive, and participatory process that involves victims, political elites, institutions, and communities affected by war, confronting the legacy of mass violence, admitting wrongdoing, accepting shared responsibility, and creating a shared vision of justice and peaceful coexistence (Boraine, 2006 & Lederach, 1997). Achieving lasting peace requires speaking the truth, taking responsibility for previous faults, mending fences, re-establishing trust, and establishing just institutions that ensure equal rights and security for all Tigrayans. It also entails redefining ties with outside parties, such as Ethiopia and other international stakeholders. This definition places reconciliation in the context of Tigray’s unique post-war needs while drawing on Lederach’s model of reconciliation as a process that connects truth, mercy, justice, and peace.

According to Abrar, the main cause of the factionalism in Tigray is political rather than social. And that is partially true; the greatest divisions exist among the elite, and suffering keeps our citizens united. However, to argue that since “the people are already united in suffering,” reconciliation is not necessary is to minimise the ways in which elite competitions permeate society, erode trust, split communities, and undermine the social compact. Even though it is unfair to describe them as a societal divide – luckily, we are not quite there, yet – it doesn’t mean we are immune from it everlastingly. In today’s Tigray elite competition has “trickled down,” influencing social identities, economic prospects, and community trust, making reconciliation a pressing social necessity rather than merely a political issue.

In a way that cannot be disputed, social resentment is pervasive at the grassroots level, cutting across elite and party lines. To ignore this resentment bubbling under the surface would be a blatant denial and is not helpful for Tigray. Years of oppressive rule and the traumas of war have left communities with unfulfilled expectations for justice, autonomy, and dignity, which is largely the cause of this resentment and sense of being ignored. For instance, the popular demand for true self-administration and liberty from long-standing party control has been methodically weakened or delayed in South and South East Tigray. Rather than addressing these demands openly, the regime has suppressed or appropriated local initiatives through elite negotiations, security pressures, and bureaucratic ploys. Similarly, party survival tactics have taken hostage the issue of Internally Displaced People (IDPs) returning to their ancestral lands, which is one of the most pressing humanitarian and political concerns – although one must note that the Abiy regime is the main obstacle here. Unfortunately, return of IDPs is now used as a negotiating chip to preserve leverage in power struggles between elites, rather than being viewed as an unassailable right. The longer these practices continue, the more they undermine public confidence and increase the sense of betrayal among common Tigrayans, making reconciliation both more important and more challenging. The longer we bury our heads in the sand, the more these issues fester and make reconciliation harder to succeed.

So, we have to attend to these issues as a matter of urgency. We need to confront and settle them. Trying to dismiss the need for reconciliation as less relevant on the ground that there is no “social division” may give the impression that “we should wait for the division to happen”. Should we? 

Of course, we are not now in a situation similar with where South Africa (tumble of apartheid rule) and Rwanda (fall of genocide regime) at the time they employed the national reconciliation tool. However, the question here is do we necessarily need to wait until we experience something as terrible, to try to rectify our communal snaps and mend our unsettled issues? We are not there yet, yes. But we are heading towards that. We are at an early stage of social divide or conflict, that is why we should learn from extreme cases like South Africa and Rwanda ahead and avoid the fate they didn’t manage to avoid in time. The time we find ourselves in a messy situation like that may not be as remote as we think it is. Nelson Mandela in his Long Walk to Freedom warned that “resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies,” underscoring the urgency of early reconciliation before harm intensifies and how small conflicts, left unresolved, can escalate into devastating outcomes. 

We can learn from history that elite consensus alone rarely leads to statehood. History demonstrates time and again that, despite its importance, elite consensus is not enough to create or maintain a functional state. The Yugoslav federations, South Sudan’s post-CPA settlement, Somalia’s post-independence governments, and even Ethiopia’s own 1991–1995 transition show that elite agreements made without significant public participation and reconciliation result in, at best, fragile states and, at worst, failed states. Regarding the Ethiopian 1991-1995 transition effort, Merera Gudina’s (2011) assessment of it should serve as a warning:

The Ethiopian transition from military autocracy to popular democracy was characterized by a top-down approach, where the ruling elite, particularly the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF), dominated the political landscape. This centralization of power marginalized other ethnic groups and political forces, leading to a fragile state structure that lacked broad-based legitimacy. – Merera, 2011 (p.60)

The bottomline here is, institutions based on elite agreements that lack grassroots legitimacy are more likely to fail due to mistrust, exclusion, and conflicting views of justice. This implies that although elite discourse is important, it cannot take the place of a more comprehensive process of societal reconciliation, engagement, and institution-building in Tigray.

When victims feel heard, when historical divisions are publicly addressed, and when ordinary citizens are at peace with their political system, lasting states are maintained. Reconciliation must be the foundation of Tigray’s self-determination movement if it is to be accepted both domestically and internationally. Without it, statehood might simply be an extension of elite conflict rather than a manifestation of popular will.

Using reconciliation as a political tool 

Unlike Abrar, I don’t see social healing as an end in itself. I also see it as a means – a political instrument. I perceive it as a means that can enable us to develop: 

1) Internal cohesion: A unified society is resistant to outside influence. The only way to face external threats effectively is to form steady internal cohesion and mutual trust among the community itself. The best answer to external risk is consolidating internal unity, healing your wounds and mitigating your vulnerabilities. Dealing with your own odds first is very critical to get the self-defense immunity to face the ones outside your fence. That, I believe, requires something beyond dialogue and repair. 

2) Legitimacy: Through widespread agreement, reconciliation validates leadership. It opens a door to the establishment of more acceptable and legitimate governments that can win the people’s trust or consensus better. It gives Tigray people a chance to renew their contract with the government in charge and become enthusiastic to let it lead the transition process into a new reality. I don’t believe we can achieve the same objective with more tinkering at the edges like dialogue and elite bargains commanded by the TPLF, whose legitimacy has been thoroughly undermined. So, reconciliation brings a chance to situate a more legitimate leadership in the drivers’ seat of the transition. Dialogue can not. Neither can elite concession.

3) Resilience: Individuals who accept and change their suffering can band together to achieve common objectives, such as self-reliance and self-defence. Reconciliation enables us as a community to critically look back to our past, self-reflect in our previous deeds, collective decisions, wrongs turns and mistakes, have a clear picture of where we are now, settle with the truth, ensure accountability and justice for wrongs, and close the chapter with forgiveness and mutual respect. Here Antjie Krog (1998), in the Country of My Skull – a poetic, journalistic account of South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, puts it very powerfully: “In the beginning is the wound, in the end is the story.” Reconciliation is a powerful tool to change your wounds into your stories. I strongly believe that true resilience grows on reconciling with your past with no excuse and shame, but mercilessly. That is what we should do. Facing our own demons. Self-reflecting on our past and present very harshly, try to have a parallel image about it and try to use it as a springboard to jump high into our future. 

Resilience builds on truth, memorizing and understanding things rightly. As Miroslav Volf (1996) stated “to remember rightly is to remember in a way that opens up the possibility of reconciliation, not in a way that closes it.” That prepares us better for the next chapter and serves as a glue/cement to reinforce our social bonds. As Desmond Tutu (1999) once said “without forgiveness, there is no future”. And: 

“True reconciliation is never cheap, for it is based on forgiveness that is costly. It makes demands, but it also brings healing and wholeness.”

4) International legitimacy: When asserting the right to self-determination, a Tigray that has been reconciled can do so with moral authority. We all know how the current Tigray regime (TPLF) is characterized in international politics and diplomacy, we know how bad it is for nationalist case, we know it is a deal killer. A Tigray that has experienced true reconciliation speaks with moral authority when he asserts his right to self-determination. International politics, on the other hand, generally view the current TPLF-dominated government as authoritarian, militarised, and self-serving. External actors’ perception of Tigray has been damaged by reports of human rights violations, poor governance, and the exploitation of local grievances for party survival. In other words, this reputation is a “deal killer” for the nationalist cause, making it challenging to form coalitions, acquire recognition, or negotiate advantageous outcomes. In contrast, a united, accountable, and just Tigray would make a strong, morally sound case for self-determination that would be accepted both at home and abroad.

The incumbent regime cannot lead the Tigray nationalism cause. The cause should be embodied with a different, more authentic Tigrayan nationalist force. That can only be born out of a real reconciliation process. And it is a very critical step in taking the Tigrayan statehood project forward. In international politics it is not only the message, but also the messenger that matters. Dialogue cannot deliver you that, neither elite consensus. 

The examples Abrar gives, Tunisia, Kenya, and Northern Ireland, substantively are about more than just concession. They’re more about reconciliation, even if it’s never called that. When citizens reclaim the political process and eroded trust is restored, agreements endure. That is what constitutes national reconciliation. And that is what really has happened in these cases or at least what they tried to achieve. 

Reconciliation as a prerequisite rather than a final goal 

Abrar contends that dialogue’s “outcome” is reconciliation. I argue it is the other way around. Genuine dialogue is predicated on reconciliation. Dialogue will be a short-lived, slick, and powerless tool for elite bargaining if there is no reconciliation. History demonstrates unequivocally that meaningful discourse frequently requires reconciliation as a prerequisite. By emphasising truth-telling and restorative justice, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) in post-apartheid South Africa provided a forum for candid discussions between formerly hostile groups and promoted mutual understanding and healing (Gibson, 2004). The Gacaca courts and community-based programs, among other post-genocide reconciliation initiatives in Rwanda, promoted communication between survivors and offenders, fostering social cohesion and facilitating productive dialogues (Clark, 2010). Protestant and Catholic communities in Northern Ireland worked together to build trust and understanding, which paved the way for the Good Friday Agreement of 1998 and facilitated successful political discourse that followed (Dixon, 2001). Similarly, in Kenya following the post-election violence in 2007–2008, efforts to promote reconciliation that addressed past injustices and ethnic tensions sparked a national conversation that resulted in the establishment of a coalition government and constitutional changes (Mutua, 2010). These instances show how dialogue without reconciliation is frequently flimsy and superficial, while reconciliation offers the social and moral underpinnings necessary for dialogue to be transformative and long-lasting.

Thus, reconciliation for Tigray entails: 1) determining the experiences of war victims and survivors; 2) having elites hold responsible for their errors, miscalculations and poor decisions; 3) developing a common national narrative that goes beyond divisive ones; and 4) establishing national institutions that ensure all Tigrayans have access to justice and equality. This is the foundation for a legitimate national dialogue and, eventually, statehood. Here valid questions arise: how could this happen practically? And what is in it for the the TPLF (more on this later)?

A multifaceted strategy can be used to make reconciliation for Tigray a reality. I am not saying this is the only highway, but providing one alternative way to go about it. First, truth-gathering commissions, community consultations, and easily accessible archives must be used to document the experiences of war victims and survivors. Second, transparent hearings and restorative justice procedures that strike a balance between accountability and conditional amnesty should be used to hold elites responsible for past errors in judgement and detrimental choices. Third, divisive histories can be overcome by a shared national narrative created through inclusive historical commissions, cultural projects, and shared commemorations. Lastly, through judicial reforms, independent human rights commissions, and equitable representation, national institutions must ensure justice and equality for all Tigrayans. This process needs to provide political legitimacy, conditional immunity, meaningful roles in reformed institutions, economic incentives linked to reconstruction, and security guarantees in order to gain the support of the elite, especially the TPLF. Here, it is good to be realistic: The TPLF is running the show now. So, any mechanism should answer the critical question: how can the push for reconciliation get a buy-in from the TPLF, given that it would inevitably mean it would lose its grip on Tigray. Personally, I push for the golden mean; some degree of concession, that helps us to maintain a balance between ensuring peace and accountability. This is where forgiveness becomes very important as one transitional justice instrument. I strongly believe that we need to focus on safe transition, rather than robust retributive justice at least temporarily. Thus, we shall open a window of forgiveness for the mass of the wrongdoings and wrong-turns in the past, except for those selected for hard crimes, grave human rights violations and grand misconduct cases. We can settle wrong political decisions, miscalculations and bad governance actions with self-reflection, truth finding and forgiveness in exchange for a smooth, independent and true national reconciliation process. This will strengthen the nationalist cause and create a framework where reconciliation benefits elites and society alike.

Tigray’s Path to Statehood 

Reconciliation through dialogue, not reconciliation or dialogue itself, is the problem. Only when they are infused with the moral power of reconciliation; the healing of one another that transforms suffering into unity and unity into statehood, will political agreements, compacts, or treaties be successful. Nothing less. 

Reconciliation is the lifeblood of the statehood project in Tigray; it is not a diversion from it. Independence is meaningless without reconciliation, even if we manage to accomplish it. That is the only way to shape a progressive nation. The statehood project has a higher purpose than just having a state. It is more about delivering a political arrangement with a more secure, liberated and prosperous future for the community. Independence is the triumph of a people who have been reconciled in their fight for justice, agency, and dignity. We are not dreaming of only having a state, but of having a better nation of harmony, fairness and liberty. National reconciliation is the right instrument to just do that, I argue. 

Conclusion

Abrar is correct that we cannot be immobilized by words. However, words are important because they express our visualization. To me, reconciliation is a process that Tigray must go through to get ready for the opportunities and challenges that come with becoming a state, not a term. While dialogue can guide us in this direction, reconciliation indicates where it ends. We must first build a reconciled Tigray before we can build a free, sovereign, and honorable Tigray.

Bibliography

• Boraine, A. (2006). “Transitional Justice: A Holistic Interpretation.” Journal of International Affairs, 60(1).
• Clark, P. (2010). The Gacaca Courts, Post-Genocide Justice and Reconciliation in Rwanda: Justice Without Lawyers. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
• Dixon, P. (2001). Northern Ireland: The Politics of Reconciliation. Manchester: Manchester University Press.
• Gibson, J. L. (2004). Overcoming Apartheid: Can Truth Reconcile a Divided Nation? New York: Russell Sage Foundation.
• Krog, A. (1998). Country of my skull: Guilt, sorrow, and the limits of forgiveness in the new South Africa. New York, NY: Three Rivers Press.
• Lederach, J. P. (1997). Building Peace: Sustainable Reconciliation in Divided Societies. Washington, DC: United States Institute of Peace Press.
• Mandela, N. (1994). Long walk to freedom: The autobiography of Nelson Mandela. Boston, MA: Little, Brown.
• Merera Gudina, Ethiopia: From Autocracy to Revolutionary Democracy, 1960s–2011 (Addis Ababa: [s.n.], 2011), p. 60.
• Mutua, M. (2010). Kenya’s Post-Election Violence: Transitional Justice and the Path to National Dialogue. New York: International Center for Transitional Justice (ICTJ).
• Tutu, D. (1999). No future without forgiveness. New York, NY: Doubleday.
• Volf, M. (1996). Exclusion and embrace: A theological exploration of identity, otherness, and reconciliation. Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press.

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Shewit Wudassie is lecturer of human rights at Mekelle University.