Political Power, Like Fire, Must Be Carefully Contained—or It Will Burn Everything Down

By Ephrem B Hidug

In modern Ethiopian politics, few figures present a starker contrast than the former Prime Minister of Ethiopia Hailemariam Dessalegn and the incumbent Abiy Ahmed. One stepped down with humility, honoring the social contract and prioritizing national unity over personal ambition. The other has centralized power, cloaking his rule in divine rhetoric, behaving more like a monarch than a public servant.

Their divergent leadership styles raise a fundamental question: What legitimizes political authority—and can unchecked power ever be moral?

Hailemariam Dessalegn: Humble Leadership and Respect for the Rule of Law

The former Prime Minister of Ethiopia, Hailemariam Dessalegn was no populist showman. Quiet, deliberate, and respectful of constitutional norms, he embodied the Lockean principle that legitimate power derives not from divine right but from the consent of the governed.

When widespread protests erupted in 2018 over political exclusion and governance failures, Hailemariam made a rare and courageous move in African politics: he resigned voluntarily. “If my resignation brings peace and stability to the country, I will step down,” he declared. In doing so, he demonstrated both moral responsibility and political maturity.

His reforms—particularly releasing political prisoners and opening democratic space—were credited not to himself but to his party and the people. During his tenure, he never portra y himself as a king but and servant of the people. In an interview with Conflict Zone, Hailemariam consistently used “my party, we the people” instead of “I the leader,” a subtle but telling sign of his collaborative ethos. Though a strong believer in Protestant Christianity, he governed without mysticism, guided instead by principle and institutional integrity. He set aside his personal religious beliefs to serve as a secular leader of the state.

Having worked closely with him, I witnessed this firsthand. When he became Deputy Prime Minister and Foreign Minister in 2010, he addressed inefficiencies in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs—not by centralizing power, but by empowering an independent committee to audit the system. The committee uncovered opaque hiring practices, politicized decision-making, and arbitrary disciplinary measures. Rather than shielding the institution, he embraced reform, identifying core issues and initiating a critical review of the ministry’s working methods..

During a legal drafting session, we proposed a clause granting him broad override powers. He stopped us:

“What does ‘when necessary’ mean? What does ‘any provision’ cover? These terms are vague—and invite abuse. A law should constrain, not expand, power.”

Then he said something I’ll never forget:

“I want you to limit my power. The law must prevail—and I, too, must be subject to its full authority.”

This rare in my 20+ years of my tenure at the ministry and it was an expression of constitutional humility echoed Montesquieu and Madison’s conviction that even well-intentioned leaders must be bound by law to prevent tyranny.

Hailemariam’s leadership was characterized by consultation and rational deliberation. He advanced peace efforts with Eritrea, spearheaded national projects like the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam, and played a key role in regional diplomacy—working through IGAD on the South Sudan peace process, addressing instability in Somalia, and representing Ethiopia on the international stage with dignity. Ironically, the peace deal with Eritrea—later claimed by Abiy Ahmed—was rooted in groundwork laid during the tenures of Meles Zenawi and Hailemariam. Isaias Afwerki ultimately accepted the proposal, largely due to personal dynamics between the two leaders.

Abiy Ahmed: From Reformist to Ruler

When Abiy Ahmed came to power in 2018, he was welcomed as a reformer. He released few political prisoners, and declared relizing high number by adding those realized and under paper work for release by Hailemariam Dessaleg prior to his coming to power, lifted bans on opposition parties, and made peace with Eritrea—earning a Nobel Peace Prize in the process.

But the honeymoon didn’t last. Abiy’s leadership soon turned toward centralization, repression, and personalization of power. Analysts have compared his rule to Machiavellian realpolitik—where symbolism, control, and divine narratives replace democratic restraint.

Press freedom has sharply declined. According to a PCJ report published on December 9, 2021:

“In sub-Saharan Africa, the biggest setback for media freedom came in Ethiopia. The government of Abiy Ahmed, who took office in 2018 during an unprecedented era of reform, emerged in 2021 as the second-worst jailer of journalists in sub-Saharan Africa—after Eritrea.”

More than 200 journalists have been arrested, and many others have fled into exile. Vague anti-terrorism and hate speech laws are frequently weaponized to silence dissent. Repeated states of emergency have normalized arrests without due process, while the United Nations has reported credible evidence of war crimes and ethnic targeting—particularly in Tigray

The 2023 Human Rights Watch report documented significant democratic backsliding: weakened parliamentary oversight, politicized institutions, and forced evictions disproportionately affecting ethnic minorities. The 2024 Freedom House report revealed a coordinated propaganda network targeting civil society and journalists, fostering fear and self-censorship.

Meanwhile, the 2025 Global Peace Index ranked Ethiopia 138th out of 163 nations—an alarming sign of instability. The World Bank’s latest data show worsening poverty, especially in conflict-affected regions.

Even the state’s own Ethiopian Human Rights Commission has noted widespread violations and the use of emergency powers as de facto governance in many areas. In southern Ethiopia, security crackdowns have been particularly heavy-handed.

Abiy’s recent speeches increasingly invoke religious imagery, implying a divine mission. This blending of theology and politics echoes Hobbesian absolutism, where state power is justified in the name of order—regardless of rights or legality.

Under his watch, democratic institutions have eroded, and Ethiopia’s federal system is visibly strained. Allegations of arming ethnic militias further undermine his administration’s credibility.

Should Abiy Ahmed Resign?                            

In this deteriorating political context, comparisons with former Prime Minister Hailemariam Dessalegn have resurfaced. Hailemariam chose to resign for the greater good—acknowledging widespread public protests, growing fatigue with EPRDF leadership, and demands for more democratic space—in an effort to prevent further bloodshed and instability in the country. Could Abiy Ahmed do the same?

If Abiy truly believes he is innocent of the grave accusations facing his government, stepping down would allow for an impartial judicial process to examine the evidence. Such a move would demonstrate a commitment to transparency, constitutionalism, and accountability—principles he once vowed to uphold. Some argue, however, that he will never resign willingly, fearing accountability for crimes committed under his watch.

Voluntary resignation is not an admission of defeat. On the contrary, it can be an act of courage, signaling that Ethiopia’s future matters more than any single individual’s grip on power. It requires both courage and selflessness. More importantly, it could save the country from total state collapse. Ultimately, it becomes a question of priorities: Abiy versus the state—which is more valuable to preserve?

Yet, few expect him to resign of his own free will.

The Path Not Taken

Hailemariam Dessalegn showed that leadership can be practiced with humility and restraint. He illustrated, as Hannah Arendt suggested, that genuine authority is based on legitimacy rather than coercion or a sense of divine entitlement. Arendt’s thoughts on true democracy are complex and deeply connected to her wider concerns about freedom, citizen participation, and the threats posed by totalitarian regimes. Although she wasn’t a traditional political theorist, her ideas provide valuable perspectives on the core of democratic life.

She observed that when leaders step down voluntarily, it can be a powerful demonstration of responsibility and moral courage—often motivated by a recognition that relinquishing power serves the greater good, whether to promote peace, defend democratic principles, or ensure fair accountability. However, many leaders cling to power out of fear of losing influence or being held accountable. Real leadership sometimes means putting the country’s future ahead of personal ambition.

By contrast, Abiy has taken a different direction—characterized by increasing centralization, religious favoritism, and setbacks to democracy. Similar to the tyrants described in Plato’s Republic, he came to power promising freedom but has instead solidified authoritarian control.

In 2018, Ethiopia faced a pivotal moment: one route offered constitutional rule and power-sharing, while the other led to autocratic rule disguised by messianic aspirations. Although the country appears to have chosen the wrong way, there is still hope for redirecting its path

Conclusion: Power as Responsibility

If Ethiopia truly stands for its people, as enshrined in the 1995 Constitution, it deserves leaders who serve rather than rule. Leaders who derive their authority from the people and the constitution—not from mysticism or fear. Leaders like Hailemariam, who understood that true strength lies in being bound by the law. He stood firmly for the constitution and for the people of Ethiopia.

In a world increasingly defined by ego and spectacle, Hailemariam’s legacy is not just admirable—it is essential. Ethiopia needs less Machiavelli and more moral courage. Because political power, like fire, must be carefully contained—or it will burn everything down.