Meles rules from beyond the grave

By RENÉ LEFORT
The trade-off offered by authoritarianism to its client-constituents is security and high growth rates. After Meles challenges may force change, or build the case domestically for a new strong man.
Meles Zenawi, the former Prime Minister of Ethiopia, has been dead for around three months. But the “Melesmania” personality cult, though discreet in his lifetime, shows no sign of fading. From giant portraits in the streets to stickers on the windscreens of almost any vehicle, a smiling Meles is still everywhere.
The sudden death of Meles shook the whole of Ethiopia. The shock quickly gave way to fear of an unknown and threatening future.
The regime did everything to exploit this fear for its own benefit. It has issued continuous calls for the nation to unite around the memory of the dead leader and, above all, around the project he designed and imposed with an iron hand. The new Prime Minister, Hailemariam Selassie, endlessly repeats that he will pursue “Meles’s legacy without any change”. He has replaced not a single cabinet minister. It could be said that the regime is running on autopilot, with the Meles software driving the leadership computer. Plunged into disarray, the governing team is hanging on to this software like a lifebelt. Why?
The making of Melesmania
Until the crisis of 2001, the handful of leaders of the Tigrayan People’s Liberation Front (TPLF), the dominant force in the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF) in power since 1991,[1] worked in a remarkably collective way.  Within this group Meles was – and not always – the primus inter pares, surrounded by strong, clever and articulate figures united by a radical Marxism. The crisis culminated in the expulsion of most of these figures, in a massive purge and finally in a threefold power shift.
The first shift saw Meles emerge as the unchallenged supremo, moving quickly to clip the wings of the few leaders who seemed to be acquiring a solid political base. He promoted only those whose loyalty he considered unshakeable, whose positions depended entirely on his goodwill, people like Hailemariam Dessalegn. Radiating outwards from a first circle of “advisers”, almost all Tigrayan, all the lines of real power penetrated down to the base of the State apparatus, whether federal or regional,[2] to the Party and to whole sectors of the economy.
Although the government reflected the country’s ethnic diversity, most ministers had authority only in name. Parliament, as it had since 1991, remained a rubberstamp chamber. No institution was able to escape this dominance and achieve autonomy. Moreover, this personal power was also intellectual. The one politically correct doctrine (“revolutionary democracy” and the “developmental state”) was devised and imposed on the country by Meles and Meles alone. This monopoly prevented the emergence of any other body of ideas and, inevitably, of any alternative line of thinking.
The army and security services were represented within this central authority, which held sway over them. Later, although Meles Zenawi maintained a grip on the security forces, the army gradually became “bunkerized”, a sort of state within the State. Meles himself had to acknowledge the autonomy of the military command, by agreeing a kind of pact: I will grant you substantial autonomy, and in particular turn a blind eye to your wheeling and dealing; you support me, especially since if I fall, you fall with me. Hence, no doubt, the remarked upon reticence of the army during the recent period of succession, as if it felt so powerful that its fortress would remain impregnable, away from the turbulent currents within the new governing team. Hence, also, the procedure followed in announcing, on September 12, the appointment of 37 new generals – including at least 23 from Tigray – a reminder that no one, not even Hailamariam Dessalegn, can interfere in the affairs of the military.
The third change concerned the TPLF and, concomitantly, the EPRDF. It was contradictory. On the one hand, the tentacles of the single party penetrate to every level of the administration: it has consumed the State from the inside. Its agenda takes absolute precedence. The TPLF holds the key positions in the nationalised companies and the web of “private” firms that in reality it controls, the so-called “parastatal companies”. Overall, this structure accounts for two thirds of the modern economy, excluding traditional agriculture. With its 5 million members – 300,000 in 2001 – the Party controls and directs the population as never before, right down to the smallest echelon of five or six households. On the other hand, the Party has been marginalised as a political institution and therefore left lifeless, if not brainless. The TPLF, not to mention the three other satellite parties, were reduced to mere instruments for the exercise of Meles’ personal power, an essential institution but nevertheless no more than an instrument.
This extreme concentration of multifarious powers in the hands of Meles Zenawi is one of the darkest aspects of his legacy: his death leaves a profound and multifaceted vacuum. Conversely, however, it also opens up an exceptional opportunity for change. First, politics and power, like nature, abhor a vacuum. Second, the Meles “model” is running out of steam. It will inevitably have to be refashionedhttp://addisvoice.com/2012/11/ethiopia-meles-rules-from-beyond-the-grave/