Research in the face of war in Ethiopia

Mehdi Labzaé, a sociologist, was able to spend time in Ethiopia between October and December 2020 thanks to an Atlas postdoctoral fellowship co-funded by the FMSH and the French Centre for Ethiopian Studies (CFEE) in Addis Ababa. War suddenly broke out in the middle of his stay. Mitiku Gabrehiwot, professor of anthropology at Mekelle University in the Tigray region, saw his institution closed and was gradually forced into exile. He is the first recipient of the Associate Director of Studies (DEA) scholarship in support of impeded research. These two mirrored trajectories illustrate how, in the face of violence, social science research is made and unmade, and the extent to which its development remains delicate and its preservation uncertain.

Testimony of Mehdi Labzaé

« In 2019, at the end of a doctoral research project focusing on land conflicts in western Ethiopia, I began working on a political trend whose success may have come as a surprise in Ethiopia: Amhara nationalism. While most Amhara elites had long been opposed to the politicisation of ethnicity, now whole sections of society were rallying behind the idea of Amhara nationalism. The nationalist militants, now allies of the federal forces, claimed to be the guardians of Ethiopian history and its greatness, linking ‘Amhara’ and ‘Ethiopian’ nationalisms in a highly effective way. I was supported at the time by the French Centre for Ethiopian Studies in Addis Ababa. It was through this centre that I learned about the Atlas field grant, which I applied for in 2020. My project on the social roots of Amhara nationalism was selected, and I was lucky enough to be funded to travel to rural northwest Ethiopia. At the time, I was meeting nationalist militants, more and more of whom were becoming militiamen, who seemed to be waiting for a conflict to break out with the neighbouring region of Tigray.

I was among these groups, on the border between the two regions, when the war broke out on the night of 3 November 2020, and I was subsequently able to follow the nationalist groups as they annexed part of Tigray, which they claimed had been stolen from them in 1991. I hadn't foreseen the war, but, thanks to the Atlas grant, I was able to adapt my survey approach to follow the nationalist respondents and work in the areas conquered and then administered by the nationalists in what had until then been Western Tigray. Because of the persistent sporadic fighting and the heavy-handedness of the state apparatus, it was essential to be highly mobile, which I was able to do by hiring a vehicle. I was thus able to understand how the nationalists administered their conquests: a mixture of highly personalised decision-making and massive enrolment of the male civilian population in the militias, creating a highly authoritarian administration that controlled movement in the area, organised the appropriation of resources, particularly cereals, and implemented political cleansing through the expulsion and murder of the area’s Tigrayan inhabitants »

Testimony of Mitiku Gabrehiwot

« The Tigray region has a very old education system, both traditional and modern. It is the birthplace of the Ethiopian writing and numbering system, Ge‘ez, which is still widely used throughout the country. It is also a haven for the three Abrahamic religions (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam) and for monasteries that have served as archives of knowledge about the region and beyond. Since the 1990s, the country has modernised its education system by opening universities in various regions. The ongoing conflict between Tigray and the federal government has affected university institutions and taken millions of students away from their studies. Educational institutions in Tigray, both religious and secular, have been targeted, and many have been looted, destroyed, and vandalised by Ethiopian federal forces and their allies, Amhara special forces, militias, and their foreign ally, the Eritrean Army. The aim of these attacks was to ‘dry up the sources’ of knowledge embodied in universities, schools, and monasteries. Before the war, Tigray had four major universities: in Mekelle, Adigrat, and Aksum, as well as Raya University in Maychew. With a permanent staff of 3,000 and over 30,000 students, Mekelle University was one of the most renowned universities in Ethiopia. It had the most international collaborations, with hundreds of ongoing research projects.

I myself was employed by Mekelle University as an associate professor of anthropology. I was conducting a research project in northwest Tigray, on a small community straddling the border with Eritrea. For reasons of security and difficulty of access, no major research had been carried out in this region since the end of the nineteenth century, when Italy occupied Eritrea. Since then, this population has been at the heart of major conflicts in the region. For three years from 2016, the Department of Anthropology at Mekelle University set out to document the oral history of these remarkable ethnic groups.

When war broke out on the night of 3 November 2020 between the regional state of Tigray and the Ethiopian federal government, few predicted that it would become one of the most violent in the world. It is regrettable that it has not attracted the attention it deserves. Unfortunately, diplomats and the international community seem to have learned little about its nature and motives. War, which destabilises the structures and functions of the state, continues to be the cause of countless deaths and the destruction of property and sociocultural resources built up over centuries. What needs to be done to preserve what remains of the academic institutions and researchers in Tigray must be closely linked to how we imagine post-war Ethiopia. Given the atrocities committed, we cannot speak enough of the lives lost. However, when the conflict is over and the reconstruction of the country begins, the role of academics and research institutions will be of the utmost importance. It is in this respect that the FMSH’s programme of support for ‘impeded research’ appears to be the best example to replicate. Such support would give rise to a ‘network of researchers in exile.’ The conflict in Tigray, however particular and dehumanising it may be, unfortunately shares features with many others elsewhere in the world. We need to bring to light all that may remain of the scholarly world of this or that endangered population or culture. The only way to rebuild society is to rely on researchers who are able and willing to think about and prepare for the future. This is an undertaking that we cannot afford to ignore »